New Blog

Well, I must say, I am nervous to do this but...

I've moved!

Come on over to my new site!

http://mommiverse.blogsome.com

Change your links and let me know what you think!

Photo Show

Got some pictures of the kids taken yesterday. Noticed they looked oddly like last year's shots:

Smiles

A few things that make me smile:

1. Spider gave me her first social smiles this morning. The joy! She's like a real person now!

2. Spider's increasingly more awake, big, blue eyes.

3. A fresh box of Crayola Crayons. Does anyone else just love new crayons? Whenever they are on sale, say five for a buck, I buy a bunch of them. I don't give them to my kids (they might get one), no they are for me. For me to look at and maybe color with. Is that weird?

4. Creative Memories is launching digital storybooks. I went to training last night and holy cow, I am excited. Anyone who does digital pictures and doesn't like to scrapbook (and even those who do) is going to want one of these. (I sent mine in for printing yesterday) The software is incredibly simple to use-- you just drop and drag your pics into templates of your choice, add your journaling, and send it in. They send you back a beautiful book. And they ARE beautiful. If anyone is interested let me know... the software should be available for free download in October...

5. I just got my proofs for Spider's baby announcements and they are AMAZING!
And last, but not least...

6. My lightning fast internet connection. Life is good.

Tears are Flowing

A Haiku
by Me

The Tears are Flowing
High Speed Internet is here
A Beautiful Thing

Trust

What is trust?

The Merriam Webster Online Dictionary indicates that trust is to place confidence or rely on. So when you trust a person, essentially you place confidence in them or you rely on them. But it still has many different implications.

You can trust a person, for instance, not to totally destroy your laptop when they take it to the library to use wireless internet. (Apparently, Charming does not trust me in this matter.) Or, for example, you can trust a person not to hurt your feelings. You trust people not to steal from you or lie to you. You trust people with your children. Your trust people with your secrets and your vulnerabilities. You trust the valet when you leave him with your expensive car, (though maybe you shouldn't, lest you have a Ferris Bueller like experience).

My point is, there are so many facets of trust. We use the word in so many different ways that mean so much more than just "place confidence." What does it really mean when you tell someone, "I trust you."

I trust Charming, for example, to provide for our family. I trust that he will do what he can to protect my body and soul from harm. I trust him to love me and not hurt me. I cannot trust him, however, to clean the house while I am gone, or do chores unless I ask him, or be on time, necessarily-- based mostly on past experiences.

I trust my mother to be supportive of me, but I can't always trust that she will not get her feelings hurt by something that I do. I can trust her with my feelings, but not necessarily my secrets.

I trust my father to assist me should I call on him for help, but I cannot necessarily trust him with my feelings. I trust him to love me, but don't trust that when we're together we won't argue.

And the thing about trusting another person, is there are so few we can trust completely for everything. Really the only person we can trust in with our whole souls is God. And though I didn't intend for this to be a religiousy post, who else is there? I don't even trust myself entirely. And yet I can trust that the Lord is perfect and makes no mistakes. I can trust that if something bad goes on in my life, that He will be there for me, without condemning me or making me feel dumb.

Isn't that a good feeling?

Any thoughts on trust that you'd like to share?

Jealousy

Alright, I am going to let you in on a little secret... Shhh...Are you ready? Okay. Here goes.

We use the word “boobs” at my house.

Now you know. Not the most conservative, toddler appropriate term to use, and yet easy to say and less crass than many other synonyms.

I make this confession to you, so that I may tell my story.

Now, it's not a secret that I am breastfeeding Spider. We do call it “nursing” around here (not boob-feeding, like you might be inclined to believe) and it is a source of much jealousy for my two older children. Reenie is jealous because it takes Mommy's time and attention. E is jealous because he too would like to be able to breastfeed Spider.

I kid you not.

The other day E and Spider were laying on the floor together when E begins to lift up his shirt and ask the baby if she would like to nurse. He and I then had the following, emotional conversation.

Me: E, you can't nurse because you don't have boobs.
E: Yes, I do.
Me: NO you don't.
E: (Getting tearful and lifting his shirt) Yes I do, they are right here.
Me: Okay.
E: (Whining) I have little boobs.
Me: Okay.
E: (Still whining) You have big boobs.

And then I could not argue. He is a very perceptive child.

Spit-up

Okay, so I have a confession... I like the smell of baby spit-up. No, no I love how it smells.

Good thing, since I have a newborn, eh?

No, seriously. I love how the scent of spitup. My fragrance of choice? Eau de bebe puke.

Need convincing? Okay, well a couple of months ago a friend brought her baby over with her on a visit. The baby was about 3 months old and she spit up on me. My friend kept apologizing and I kept reassuring her that I didn't mind. (Hey, I'd been spit up on before!) Anyway, so after she left, I totally could have changed my shirt, but I did not. I just kept smelling myself all day and smiling.

So that's all. I am loving the smell of Spider and Me. And loving that I just got one more pair of pants to fit.

P.S. The posting has been sporadic lately for two reasons. 1. Spider. 2. Slow Lame-ola Dial Up Internet, aka $10 a month spent so I can spend 20 minutes trying to get to my inbox.

What I Grew on my Summer Vacation

Happiness is cheap groceries and a new baby

So I actually dared to take my THREE children to the grocery store Monday. We had to use the car cart, of course. E rode in the front, Spider was in her car seat which I (gasp) snapped into the child seat part (thus making loading groceries into the cart rather interesting), while Reenie insisted on walking and "helping" me by pushing the cart and picking out groceries to put in it.

And let me just tell you, I flipping ROCKED the Albertson's Store Monday. I spent $56 and saved... $89 . Yes, you read that right friends. But wait- there's more. I still haven't sent in my $10 rebate which means, I essentially spent $46 and saved $99. Who rocks? Yeah, that'd be me.

Grocery savings powers aside, I would like to post about how happy I am right now. I fell like I have the opposite of postpartum depression. Call it postpartum elation, even. Having a third child has been VOLUMES easier than I thought it would be. Of course, it helps that Spider is an awesome baby as far as sleeping goes, and we are only a week and a half into this parenting three kids thing. But seriously, I am adjusting incredibly well.

I feel so blessed to have this new baby. My family just feels more complete now, though we might not be done, I feel as if we were we'd be okay. I love having a baby again. I love the little noises she makes, I love smelling her and holding her, I even love changing her little tiny diapers. I am so in love with this itty bitty miracle.

I could not have asked for a better labor either. It was of course, labor, and therefore had the accompanying pains, but it was the first labor that I actually had time to mentally get in the game. My first labor was induced with pitocin and was 3 hours and 45 minutes of hard and fast contractions while I was stuck in a bed with no pain medication. The second labor was 75 minutes and was filled with the panic of "are we even going to get there in time?" This time my water was broken by my midwife and six hours later Spider was here. Still short. The labor itself was only about 2 or 3 hours, but the contractions came on slower and the hard part of labor--transition-- had a lot less mental anxiety for me, and I am sure this is because of my many prayers said before and during the event. (I of course offered many prayers of thanks afterwards as well.) I got one stitch and my body is loving being un-pregnant.

And to top it off, I have felt so much love and support from my church family. I just can't believe how many people visited me in the hospital and who have called and offered to do things since I've been home. And of course all the food that has been brought to us. It has all been so wonderful and I feel so happy and content.

Seriously, does life get any better than this?

She's HERE!

Baby Spider has arrived!

6lbs 2 oz, 17 1/2 inches long. Tiny, tiny, tiny.

But doing well. Best labor yet-- all natural.

And I am loving having a wee one again.

The Big Day Comes Soon

Monday.

Monday is the day that my nurse-midwife will break my water, because I have fast labor and want to make sure I am actually at the hopital for the birth. (Reenie's labor was 75 minutes, please don't be jealous).

Monday is the day that we will wait for Baby Spider to come.

Monday.

The Big Day.

I have more anxiety than I thought humanly possible.

Because I know what is coming. Excited as I am to meet this baby, I don't really want to experience the process. And it is scheduled. Which means that I know when it is going to happen and I am going voluntarily.

Is it too late to back out of this?

You'd Think I was a Robin or something...

The nesting has gotten seriously out of control....

How many crazy things have I done to my house in my very pregnant state? Let's Review:

In the past month and a half I:

*painted thewalls in the "eating nook"

*painted and stenciled the family room walls

*went crazy hanging up photos and mirrors that had been lying around for months

*did some creative work in the baby's room including painting a picture frame with a picture of a little girl praying in it and putting up vinyl lettering

*completed numerous baby preparation shopping tasks

In the past couple of weeks I:

*wiped down all the lightswitch plates to get the fingerprints off

*wiped down the walls for the same reason

*cleaned toilets when I thought I might be in labor (four hours of contractions 5 minutes apart)

2 days ago I:

*organized my closets

*went through all of Reenie and E's old clothes and separated and labeled them by size

*sewed burp cloths that I intended to make when E was a baby

*sewed a bib for Reenie out of tablecloth type vinyl that I intended to make for E when he was her age

Yesterday I:

*sewed more kites for E and Reenie's room

*had Charming help me rearrange our family room furniture (I LOVE it)

*decluttered my entire main floor

*vacuumed

*cleaned my bedroom

*wiped down my cabinets

*got on my hands and knees and cleaned under the cabinet in the place where the garbage can usually is

*wiped down the front of my fridge

*wiped out a drawer in my bathroom that's been bugging me for awhile

That's It.

4 days until the big event. What else needs to get done?

Young= Bad?

Not to unnecessarily revisit this topic, but today there were 3, yes 3, cups in the cubby when I went to put mine in. Gross-osity.

Okay, on to today's topic.

Does it bother anyone else when older celebrity moms talk about how they're SOOO much better of a parent now than they would have been if they'd had kids in their 20's?

It sort of offends me.

Not because I have a problem with older moms... I just happen to be a mom in her 20's who doesn't think that I am a crappy mom because I am in my 20's.

Fair enough?

The thing is, how do they really know that about themselves? How can they really say they are a better parent now than they would have been then? Less selfish now? More mature now? I don't know. Personally, I feel like at whatever age you are, having a baby changes you. Becoming a parent forces you to be less selfish, forces you to grow up because all of a sudden your life isn't just about you anymore. Someone very small depends on you entirely, for everything, and that really makes you have to step up and be an adult.

And you can make comments like, "what about Britney Spears?" and that kind of thing, but really, do we think she would be that much more mature in 20 years? I think for the most part the non-mature parents are the people lacking education, who quite frankly would probably be the same type of parent at 20, 30, 40 or 50. And all parents do make mistakes, even Britney.

Am I way off?

I hope I haven't started any controversy here, but I just don't like being made to feel bad about being a young mom.

Monday Morning Confessions: Things I have gotten used to, but will not miss when they are gone

Another pregnancy post. (Stick with me, I've only got a week left!)

1. The drool

I have grown accustomed to this little "habit" of mine that occurs everytime I sleep. I will not miss my wet pillow when this pregnancy is over.

2. The neck sweat

I don't know what it is, but whenever I sleep, I sweat profusely between my chin and neck.

3. The pains

Not really used to them yet. Yesterday I had sharp pains in my left leg and ahem... buttocks every time I walked around. Won't miss them.

4. Waking up multiple times a night

Oh wait, this one isn't going to go away. At least it won't be because I have to pee. At least there will be an actual little person who will be happy to see me, instead of just cold, heartless porcelain.

Your turn. Any unpleasantries in your life, that you've gotten used to that could go away and you'd be glad to see them go? Fill me in.

Burning Question

Does anyone else have one random light in the house that is always on? For no logical reason? Mine is the laundry room light. Why it's on, no one knows.

And, FYI- the last few weeks of pregnancy are torture.

The Urine Sample

Yeah, I am not going to be pregnant for much longer, so I figure I better talk about all the pregnancy topics before it's too late...

But before, I get going on this one, many of you commented on the last post about loving the increased bust size during pregnancy. I wanted to mention that I liked this as well, but did not care for the stretch marks on the associated appendages. In other words, as exotic as it sounds, "Tiger Boobs" are not that great.

Okay, so the urine sample. At my current nurse-midwive's office, you pee in the cup and put it in that cubby thing in the wall. Am I the only one that secretly fears that just as I am putting the cup up there, that the nurse will open the other side at the same time? Not that it's that big of a deal, I mean whoopdy-doo, she saw me and identified me with my own pee, but still. That'd be a little weird.

And is anyone else grossed out, when they put their own cup up there and someone else's cup is there too? Last week, I faced near crisis when there was not only one cup up there, but two. Two cups of other people's pee, and to make matters worse, they were placed in such a manner that in order for me to put my cup up there I would have to move one of them. In other words, I would have to touch the cup of someone else's pee. I think I finally just used my cup to kind of shunt the other one over, praying that no spillage would ensue.

Of course, the pee sample at the doctor's office is not near as bad as the dreaded 24 HOUR URINE SAMPLE. If you have never had to do this, pray you never will. I had to with my first pregnancy because I had pre-eclampsia. Oh my word. Every time you pee, you must collect it, and pour it into a big orange jug. This big orange jug must be kept... dunh, dunh, dunh... in your refrigerator! Aahhhhh! So gross. I remember being so relieved after I had done it, glad I would never have to do it again. Yeah, I think I did about 3 more of those that pregnancy. Sick.

So yeah, any thoughts? Yes, I know I have just asked you to comment about pee. But c'mon, we've all had to do it at one point, pregnancy related or not.

Monday Morning Confessions: Pregnancy

Well, I am 37 weeks this week. Some things I love about being pregnant, and some things I don't:

1. My body

I love it, love it, love it. I love being so curvy and voluptuous and having a good reason for it. (And I love not feeling guilty about brownies and ice cream). Charming likes my body too, and that's a plus. Of course there is one exception to my body self-love:

2. My butt

Yeah, I am not so big in the belly this pregnancy, but I noticed the other day that my butt is. In fact, I would go so far to say that my rear end is bigger than my belly. Not good. Not good at all.

3. The constant need to pee

Is it some kind of punishment? I mean, seriously. Is it very important that I need to use the toilet every 15 minutes, and sometimes just to dribble out almost nothing? At my baby shower during my last pregnancy, my friends had to guess my least favorite thing about pregnancy, and most said bedrest, since I had been on it for 9 weeks between the two pregnancies. But they were wrong. Need to pee. Hate it.

4. Feeling Baby Move

Unless I am trying to sleep and the child is keeping me awake, this is pretty much my favorite thing. Not to be cheesy, but it's pretty magical. It's the one thing that I miss once they're on the outside. Special. Really Special

5. The Braxton-Hicks Contractions

Really, I like to call these "fakey" contractions, since whoever Braxton-Hicks was, they certainly didn't invent the darn things, though it was nice of them to take the credit for them. Let me tell you that I love and hate these suckers. I like them because I feel like my body is doing something, and every one of them makes me that much closer to the big day. I don't like them because they are starting to be painful and because every one of them makes me think I am that much closer to the big day. And because I have so many, it is hard for me to know when I am really in labor (hence why Reenie was born 10 minutes after we got to the birth center.)

6. My wardrobe

Again, mixed feelings. I have some really cute stuff that I can only wear during pregnancy, but 9 months of the same stuff is a bit long... Especially towards the end when I only have one outfit that fits. And after the birth? No good at all, even though they are usually all that fits.

Your turn. If you've been pregnant, what did you like? What did you hate? If you haven't been pregnant but you've had a friend or relative who has, what did you like or hate about them during their pregnancy? (Be as nice as you can). Tell me, I want to know.

The Long Awaited

This post is about two long awaited things: 1. My first pedicure in over five years, and 2. the pictures of my pink walls.

So the pdicure... I have had plantar warts on my feet since I was pregnant with E, thus preventing me from getting a professional pedicure. After much effort, they are finally (mostly) gone. So, since I can't reach my feet myself, I set out for a pedicure.

Funny thing happened in the comfy, vibrating spa chair in a room full of strong and foreign smells- I started to feel lightheaded, like I was about to pass out. It will go away, I told myself. Then I prayed it would go away. But no. Progressively worse, friends. It got to the point where I almost couldn't hear anything. So I told the lady I didn't feel well, she saw my lack of pigment and took me over to the couch to lie down. She then gave me some menthol stuff that she uses (as she herself passes out quite frequently) and tried to take care of me with water, Dr. Pepper and Asian Shrimp Crackers.

I can't remember when I have been taken care of so well. And I love my new beautiful feet.

Now, before I post the pics of my family room, let me make the following disclaimer: I love interior design, I watch HGTV when I can, I have a subscription to Better Homes and Gardens, and yet, I am no interior decorator. I can't quite get it right. So forgive me. Hopefully with time I will have my mother's skills of turning trash into home decor treasure. Until then...

This is my kids room, that my sis and I painted a few months ago. I am supposed to make more kites, but hey, it took me months to sit down and do the three you see here.



These are some scrapbook style works I did for the wall going up the stairs. The frames are mirrors from the dollar store.



This is a picture I got for Baby Spider's room. I bought the pic and the frame separately at a thrift store. The picture was actually bigger with a rip in the corner and the frame was all white. I chopped the pic a little, painted the frame and voila! Less than 2 bucks.



Here it is, the family room. Note the contrasting stencil work... And I need something for that right corner space. A picture or a huge plant or something.



The couch needs a throw or a quilt or something. And pretty pillows to tie the colors together better.



In my dining room.



It is a shame that this picture did not turn out better, as it is my favorite of the pink walls.



Well, at least they like my decorating...



And that's that. Let me know what you think.

Also, please note that if you spend almost an hour trying to make a post like this using dial-up internet, your two year old will take a pen and create tiger stripes running the entire length of her legs.

Slacker

I am a blog slacker, it is true. BUT...

The pictures of the pink living room are coming... I don't have a digital camera, so I do things the old fashioned way. With a film camera and a scanner. Expect them Friday... They are coming.

And I have funny kids.

Tonight Reenie had one of those glowstick bracelets. She was putting the plastic connector in her mouth and then pulling it off the stick with her teeth. It made a sound and she then informed me, "I made it fart." Yeah, she's not quite 2 yet.

Then later she was telling us that we were all robots. E comes in and says, "Don't be so DAFT. We're not robots we're boys and girls." Daft? Don't know where that came from. Funny though. Charming asked him who was a boy, and he said, "E." Then Charming asked him who was a girl. Reenie. "And who else is a girl?" he asked, to which E replied, "Who's a lady? Mommy."

The pictures are coming soon, and hopefully a better post.

Mom-ness

So I am sitting here in front of the computer with a teletubbie in my shirt between my bosoms and two kids on my lap.

Just thought you should know.

People are Weird

Okay, so I haven't posted in awhile but I have been thinking about the blog...

You know you've been thinking about the blog too much when you have a dream and in the dream you think, I am going to blog about this dream, and how weird it is and you then work out your exact post in the dream. Yep. Happened last night, only the dream isn't so very funny to blog about. I mean it sort of is/was. If I have any requests for it, I'll post about it.

Anyway, people are weird.

So I go to the El Cheapo Gas Station today, and of course there is a line, since it is El Cheapo Gas. The person I choose to be behind in line is (no offense) an overweight man in a shirt that says "Scotsman for hire." Well, 'Ol Scotty is pumping his gas and cleaning his already clean looking back window. When his gas is finished, he hangs up the nozzle and proceeds to squeegee ALL the windows. Then a woman gets out of the car, looks at the pump number and goes in to pay? I don't know, but he just kept cleaning the windows even though I was clearly waiting, his windows were already clean, his gas was done pumping... and hello, I was waiting! In a minivan! Not some little car that he couldn't see... (I've heard that one before when a car backed into my OLDSMOBILE)

Another car had come up, pumped her gas and left during the time I was waiting for the Scotsman. In fact, I drove around used her pump, and Scotty drove off shortly before I did.

People are weird.

And then I had a playdate set up for today. Apparently the other mom's daughter fell asleep and would possibly not be up before our 3:00 playdate time. She said on her phone message she could come later but not too much later than that. So I am thinking like no later than 3:45 or even 3:30. When I talked to her on the phone she said if it's even 3:15 she won't make it because she has a lot to do. This to me seemed weird. If 3:15 is too late, then isn't 3 too late as well? Why did we set it up for that time if it ultimately was too late? Was she only planning on playing f0r 30 minutes? And she does live just down a couple streets. A 5 minute walk.

People are weird.

What do you think?

Nesting part deux

So, I realized something about my nesting... nothing I am doing has anything to do with the baby. It's all just random stuff I have wanted to do for awhile. I'm not painting the nursery or sorting through baby clothes, I am just decorating my house. Any ideas on why this is?

I feel blessed to be pregnant. I am excited for our new arrival and just glad that I have never struggled with fertility issues. And yet... I am miserable. I just am not loving being pregnant right now. I am tired, I have a bazillion contractions a day, the extra weight is taking its toll, I can't eat anything without some kind of stomach incident... ick-a-roo. I am literally counting the days... and struggling through every one. And to make things worse, Charming's place of employment has just decreed that they own him for the next week or more and that he can never come home again. Okay, not those words exactly, but might as well have been.

Uggh. So much to do. So no help from an absent hubby. But the family room is looking fabulous. I've been stenciling.

Nesting

Sorry no post for awhile. It's been a little bit crazy around here...

I've been nesting.

This is my third pregnancy. I have never successfully made it to 34 weeks without going on bedrest (I am 34 weeks on Tuesday, cross your fingers) and I have consequently never had the true "nesting" urge.

Until now.

I was on vacation in Idaho for a week and while there I got decorating fever. Perhaps it was the plethora of home and garden type magazines that were available at the cabin or maybe all the HGTV I watched. I don't know. But something happened and when I came home, life took a turn.

Charming did an amazing job getting the house all clean for our return. And yet over the next few days I found myself obsessively cleaning, making plans, and making sure all the art and decor I have had lying around for months got hung up on the walls.

And on Monday I bought paint. A sophisticated rose color called "cheeky", but let's not be fooling ourselves here, it's pink. And I had to paint the walls IMMEDIATELY. Not the nursery folks, the dining room. The room where all genders convene for meals. Risky? I don't know, but I LOVE IT. It looks SO good.

Needless to say, I probably overdid it a little on that day. The Fourth found me more than a little exhausted and I consumed a bit too much medium rare beef that night as at 2 am I was in the hospital. I had woken up around 1 am with some serious contractions. I get them all the time, but this time they were a little too close, and a little too uncomfortable in between. I threw up. I didn't feel better. I pooed. I didn't feel better. So after a prayer and a call to the neighbor, we were off.

The sort of funny thing is that on the drive there I made Charming pull over so I could puke some more. A car drove by, and I thought to myself, "It's fourth of July eve, they probably think I am drunk." Ironic, since I don't drink. Anyway.

So we went to the labor and delivery. They gave me a bag of fluid and a shot of morphine in the bum and I was ever so sleepy for the next 24 hours or more. I literally slept all day Wednesday, put the kids to bed early since Charming was working late, and went to bed at 9:30 and woke up Thursday morning at 8:30. Can you see why I didn't blog?

And then on Thursday, Charming and I took a few days to go to a hotel and enjoy the local sights without the kids.

So nice. And now I am back. Not on bedrest, and ready to paint the family room.

Well not sure if I should post again, since I just posted yesterday, but... I feel I must give some serious props to my friend Heather who took these fabulous family and maternity pictures for me a couple weeks ago.

Here they are:



I'd put more, but since I have such a slow internet connection, I better leave it at these and go pay attention to my family!

Home Again

Well, I am back.

Great trip. I am a very sentimental person, and for some reason I am emotionally attached to various places.

My family has a cabin on a lake in Idaho. We went there first for a few days, just me and the kids since Charming can't take time off in the summer. Loved it. The kids spent so much time in the water playing with the sand and the neighbor's dog. Even with the sunscreen, their skin got some healthy color and their hair got all bleached out. So wonderful and relaxing. And not too hot.

Then we stayed at my mom's house. Not the house I grew up in or anything, but there is just something about mom's house that just makes it home.

But the best part of the trip was Grandma's house. Grandma lives on a farm-- not an animal farm, but a farm out in the middle of nowhere with gorgeous wheat fields surrounding it for as far as the eye can see. She lives in a circa 1900 or 1910 white farm house complete with wrap around porch. The thing I love the most about grandma's house is simply the feeling I have when I am there.

Growing up, my parents were divorced and we never lived in one place for too long. Grandma and Grandpa's house was one of the only constants in my life. We spent many vacations there, waking up in the morning to egg pancakes (some might say crepes) and games of rummy with Grandma and Grandpa. In the summers we would pick peaches and help Grandma can them. In the fall (or late summer) we sometimes went out with Grandpa in the combine or the wheat truck for the harvest. In the winter we would go sledding on old fashioned sleds down the big hill, and we could always expect to hear Santa's sleigh bells (that Grandpa shook) on Christmas Eve. Grandma and Grandma's house was a safe place. It was a constant.

When Grandpa died, Grandma did some furniture rearranging to get her through the grieving. It almost pained me to see the family room turned into a dining room, and Grandpa's tv chair, where he was so often snoring the night away, missing. It was like something sacred had been desecrated. I know I wasn't the only grandchild to be upset over it, but I can see why Gram did what she did. But the spirit of their home was still there, and I eventually was able to move past it.

We had a great time, me and the kids. We set up their kiddie pool and they played with my aunt and her and Grandma's dogs. It just felt so good to be there, that I did not want to leave. I wanted to spend another week, so I could sleep upstairs in the bed I had often shared with my sister in a room filled with toys, dust and old books. I felt at peace there. I can't explain it, I think her house is probably my favorite place. I hadn't been to her house for nearly two years, and I am so glad I was able to go visit Grandma at the farm for even just a few hours.

Wonderful.

Totally worth the trip.

Tell me about your special places. What are your "Grandma Houses"?

TTFN

Well, I am going on a little vacation to a land without the internet.

See ya in about a week!

My son, the sailor

When I was in junior high, my favorite anime show was Sailor Moon. My husband, knowing this, has in the past purchased Sailor Moon videos for me that are now in our collection that we let our kids watch.

E has recently developed a love of Sailor Moon. More specifically, he seems to really like Sailor Venus (seen at right). He often puts a yellow blanket on his head, like it is hair, and calls himself Sailor "Pena." He means Venus, but either he can't say the V or he doesn't hear/comprehend it on the t.v. show.

And so the following humorous dialogue that occured as we were getting ready for bed:

E: (wearing his hair) Look at me, I'm Sailor Pena!
Charming: I hope this doesn't affect him later on in life. That show has enough gender confusion as it is. (Mock femmy-man voice) Hi, I'm Sailor Venus...
E: (jumping on the bed) I'm Sailor Peni---s!
Charming: Oh, blog.
E: I'm Sailor Peni---s!
Charming: That's be a different kind of sailor. No worries.

Yeah, that's him. My son the sailor. Mmm-hmmm. My son, the Sailor Man-part.

Mortified

This is going to go down as my second most embarassing moment. (Followed only by my having to read aloud all about erections in my 6th grade $ex ed class).

So I was at the Smith Meyer's today with my kids in their double wide stroller. I needed to buy a white sheet so I headed back to where the sheets were. In order to get to the linens, I had to pass through a bunch of tables with clearance stuff on them. As I passed by one of the tables, the stroller wheel tapped some kind of bucket that was next to the table and the opposite end of the table collapsed. All kinds of dishes and glassware slid to the floor and broke. In slow motion.

I was mortified.

MORTIFIED.

But the worst part is this: there was an employee lady doing some kind of inventory and when it happened she just looked at me. She gave me the dirtiest look I've seen in a long time, and did NOT SAY A SINGLE WORD TO ME.

Nothing.

What was I supposed to do? I just stood there. I really couldn't offer to pay for the stuff, since if the table's had been properly locked, it wouldn't have fallen down. I wasn't going to help pick it up since I am pregnant and had my kids with me. Another lady who had been looking at the dishes when the event happened, but made no attempt to save the table (since she was near that end) disappeared almost immediately after it happened, and I just stood there not knowing what to do.

And then I walked away.

This was a difficult decision, but I didn't know what else to say. Grinch lady didn't say anything to me, didn't indicate that I was to help, didn't smile and tell me not to worry about it, she just scowled at me like I was flipping pond scum.

iWait, t gets better.

I still needed to get the sheets, so I went to where they were. Another employee had come to help the crabby one and a man walked by and commented about the mess. The second employee lady said, "Well, the legs lock in place."

To which the man replied, "I guess they must not have been, if the table fell down."

And she commented back, "I don't know," in a sort of I-am-sure-they-were-secure-and-if stupid-customers-would-be-more-careful-I-wouldn't-be-on-the-floor-picking-up-broken-glass sort of voice.

Apparently Smith Meyer Witches One and Two were not having a good day.

So, anyway, I walked away. I felt bad about it, not bad about it, and kept looking over my shoulder the rest of the time I was in the store to see if I would be apprehended by some employee saying I needed to pay for the broken stuff.

What would you have done? I don't know if I did the right thing or not. It probably wasn't the right thing, but I really didn't know what else to do. I didn't feel like it was entirely my fault, and I certainly wasn't going to take more dirty looks from an employee who's only annoyance in my mistake was that she was going to have to clean it up, and not because she would be losing revenue. So really, what would you have done? Make me feel better here.

Spam and Extremes

So what is up with the email spammers? Are they just hoping they'll find someone who fits the demographic they are trying to target? Are they just dumb? I just have to wonder why they send me e-mails for certain male body part enhancements, or the most recent one containing (I assume, based on the title) pictures of black singles. This last one made me laugh as a.) I am not black and b.) I am not single.

Anyway. I wanted to share a bit that I found in the paper this morning. It was a teeny tiny article entitled "Breast called best infant food source." I thought the title was funny since this fact, I think, has been pretty well established already. And being a big proponet of breastfeeding, I read it, and was quite frankly, upset. It started out like this:

"Warning: Public health officials have determined that not breastfeeding may be hazardous to your baby's health."

WHAT? Hazardous? Shoot, I was bottle fed, and I seem to be doing fine...

It concluded with the following:

"A two-year national breast feeding awareness campaign that culminated this spring ran television announcements showing a pregnant woman thrown off a mechanical bull during ladies' night at a bar-- and compared her behavior to failing to breastfeed."

WHAT? Feeding your baby formula is like drunken bar antics?

Ridiculous. Who are these people?

Breastfeeding is a good thing, and I have nursed both my babies. I think it's great and I think more women should do it. But this is bad advertising. What about the women who want to, but for some reason can't breastfeed? Or the other mommies who simply choose not to? Can we alienate them any more please? Are we trying to damage women here, or are we trying to promote breastfeeding? This kind of advertising is not responsible at all, it is simply hurtful. How many mothers are going to be made to feel guilty about their choices or their inabilities from these kind of promos?

Why does out society have to take everything to the extreme?

There are many mothers out there, all of whom make different choices and have different parenting styles, but the common thread among us is that we are women and mothers trying to do the very best we can. This kind of media only serves to pit us against each other, kind of like the whole working mom versus stay at home mom debate.

It makes me sick. What do you think?

I killed a pregnant fly today...

... and I do not feel good about it.

I squished it and when I lifted up my implement of death (paper towel) there were squirmy maggoty things coming from its abdomen.

SO DISGUSTING.

I sort of felt bad, even though if one of her "children" had been an adult, I would have killed it without any remorse. And I am somewhat glad I did because I would not have wanted all those flies in my house...

And how was I supposed to know?

Weird Guy and a Meme

So, I was at the local McD's having an ice cream with E, and I realized there are a lot of strange people that take their kids to the playplace. There was the couple with all the tatoos, the woman picking her nose, and then someone really disturbing. He was probably in his late 30's early 40's and he was sitting with his daughters. Totally ignoring them. Why? probably because he was too busy listening to his Ipod and reading about Ashlee Simpson in his US Weekly magazine. I kid you not. He was reading US Weekly, and specifically an article about Ashlee Simpson. And he had a HUGE stack of papers in front of him, the top sheet reading: "Things to Do." Apparently pay attention to his daughters was not on that list. Would you think that was creepy and weird? I did.

And now a meme which I am stealing from the daring one.

Two for Togetherness
Two things you compliment your husband on while in his presence:
1. His handsomeness.
2. His good daddy qualities.

Two compliments you make about your spouse to your friends:
1. He is a great dad.
2. He is incredibly motivated and ambitious.

Two traits you married him/her for:
1. His sense of humor
2. His love and respect for me

Two days you cherished the most with your husband being together:
1. Our wedding day; we got married, we went to Universal Studios and umm... other stuff
2. The day E was born

Two material things you could give your husband if you just inherited a fortune:
1. A Mac
2. A Nintendo Wii
3. A big house in the rainy place (or would that be more for me...)

Two things you would miss the most if she/he left for two weeks:
1. His company
2. His hugs

Two thoughts that crossed your mind when you first met/saw your spouse:
1. Oh, this must be one of my roommates weird friends
2. He's pretty funny

Two favorite dates:
1. Our 3 year anniversary dinner to a nice Restaurant on Lake Washington, two days before Reenie was born
2. Probably our first non-date date when we hung out together all day just doing random stuff and getting to know each other

Two funny odd things you love:
1. How he gets so focused when he talks that he doesn't notice anything else
2. The creepy face he makes when I ask him to

Two places you have lived with your spouse:
1. Provo, UT
2.Redmond, WA

Two favorite vacations:
1. The first Christmas we spent with his family in New Jersey
2. Our "honeymoon" to Steamboat Springs, CO

In the News

Note: This was YESTERDAY's post, but blogger was being, umm, less than helpful...

So, I have decided that for at least the next 5 posts or so, that I will NOT be talking about my children. I love them, and they are darlings, BUT, I am going to use a different part of my brain on this blog for the next week or more.

So today, I will share some of what I read in the paper. First there was a classified ad for kittens which read: "Kittens- 8 mixed breed, 6-8 weeks old, male and female. $3 or best offer." The part that sruck me as funny was the "or best offer." If you are only asking 3 bucks, are you really thinking someone is going to try and haggle you down to a lower price? "Hmm, 3 is a bit steep how about $2.50?" Or maybe they were just hoping that someone would walk in and say, "Nope, this kitten is worth at least a hundred dollars. I won't buy her for anything less." I think they could have saved themselves on the ad price and left that bit off...

And then there were a couple articles about the "day of the devil" which apparently was yesterday, 6/6/06. Some 700 people on BetUS.com wagered $2 that the world would end, and a spokesman for the site stated, "come rain sleet or snow or apocalypse, our clients will recieve their winnings." But probably not if the world ended, right? They should have just bought a couple of candy bars instead of placing their bets, I think.

A movie about the devil's child came out yesterday too, and some expectant mothers fought tooth and nail to keep their own babies from being born on the day of the beast. One woman went into labor Monday and by Tuesday still had not given birth. She had this to say, "We were going to try to get it out before midnight or I was going to keep my legs closed. I don't want her to have that stigma for the rest of her life. When she gets older, her friends would say that anything bad would be because of her birthdate." Who thinks like this? Give me a break. Since I and many other people were blissfully unaware of Satan's day yesterday, I really don't think her friends would say stuff like that. If they were good friends anyway.

I just don't get into speculation and superstition. It's a waste of time.

Although I will say, when I was 19 I was a little nervous on New Year's Eve of 1999. I was at a party and shortly after midnight the power went out. Of course it was rigged by the kids that lived there. Good for a laugh, and then guess what? The world didn't end and all fall apart.

So while I am not too worried about end of the world, I think I may be placing an offer on some $3 kittens. Think they'd take $1.50?

Princess Reenie

Today I want to write about the cutest girl in world, my mini twin, my Reenie Bean.

She is so similar to me in so many ways that it just blows my mind. Take sleep for example. I LOVE my sleep. I love naps, I love going to bed, sleep is my good friend. I have a hard time falling asleep at night however, despite my love for sleep. When Reenie was days old, she too had difficulty falling asleep, often staying up until 1 am. And she still struggles with falling asleep at night, and like me, she wakes up a bazillion times.

But she clearly likes to sleep, and she loves her naps. Today she was watching Bob the Builder with E and I told her in a few minutes we were going to read stories and have our naps. I walked out of the room and the next thing I knew, Reenie was in her bed, tucked in with the door closed. Not asleep yet, but still in bed, ready for a nap. (Which usually last for two to three hours) Who is this person? She is AMAZING! Of course, one difference in our sleep patterns is that I take awhile to wake up in the morning, whereas she pops up ready to immediately go sproinging off the walls.

And it isn't just sleep. The kid is persistent like me, she's emotional like me, and when she thinks you aren't understanding her she gets frustrated like me. And yet, she is so different than me. She is so much more adventurous than I am. She likes Daddy to swing her upside down, she tries to jump off the back of our couch, she does somersaults in church... She's much funnier than I am too. And she always has a smile for everyone, whereas I think I am a little more umm... not having a smile for everyone (though I do try...)

She is just an awesome kid. A handful of energy, and yet helpful, cute and funny as all get out. She loves her big brother and all his big boy toys, and still loves girly things too. Like wearing her "pitty" dresses and carrying her baby named "Lady." She knows where mommy's baby is and likes to blow on my big pregnant belly and laugh at the flatulant-like noises. She loves to sing (like me) and will climb up onto the piano bench and demand that I "sit down" next to her so we can tickle the ivories together. She loves playing outside, she'll swing for hours and she loves her "Elmo" shoes.

That's her. My Reenie. My Bean. She's going to be two soon, and I am so glad she's a part of our family. I don't know how we ever lived without her.

What Have I DONE?

I CUT OFF REENIE'S CURLS!!!!

I was just thinking she was getting a little shaggy and that maybe she needed a little trim. I thought I would still leave some curl, but apparently I did not.

I mean she still looks cute, but when I went to stroke her sleeping little head, there were no sweet curls!

I hope they grow back...

Because it Tastes Good

E was picking his nose the other night and eating the boogies. I asked him how it tasted, he said "tastes good" and laughed.

A couple nights later, Reenie was putting her feet in her mouth. I asked her why she was doing it, she replied, "tastes good."

Then today when I offered E some water instead of juice, he informed me, "no, I don't want any water. Water is yucky. It tastes gross. We don't drink water."

Well, at least they know what they like.

Meme This!

Well, Emily at the Sassy Lime has tagged me for a meme. Here it is.

What is your favorite word ?
Mommy

What is your least favorite word ?
I don't know that there's a word. But I certainly don't like to hear the phrase, "One of the kids just vomited."

What turns you on spiritually, creatively, emotionally ?
Music for sure, on all accounts. Quiet time, reverent time for reflection. People thinking of me.

What turns you off?
Profanity. Lack of respect for others.

What's your favorite curse word?
umm, don't (typically) curse, So I don't have one. When it very rarely pops out it usually rhymes with SPAM.

What sound or noise do you love to hear?
Rain. My kids giggling. My kids calling me mommy or really anything they say.

What sound or noise do you hate?
My kids fighting. Too much going on at once.

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Hair stylist.

What profession would you not like to do?
Poopsmith

What would you like to hear God say at the pearly gates?
Welcome home, my good and faithful servant. Glad you could make it, you did a great job. The teriyaki and chocolate cake bar is over there. All you can eat. No, we don't have calories here.

And I tag:
anyone who wants to play.

Monday (not so much) Morning Confessions: Things I am in Love with

1. My husband.

Duh. I don't know why I even mentioned this one. SOOoooo obvious. But still, it should be on the top of the list...

2. The Hardware Store

I don't know what it is about this place. I just get high (not literally, ya sickos) off of all the stuff you could use for "home improvements." The smell of it, the paint colors, the garden department. Mmmmm.... Love...

3. Popsicles

Maybe it's just the summer, but these babies are my favorite food right now. As I was eating one the other night I told Charming, "Popsicles are the best food."
"Are they your favorite food?" he asked.
My reply?
"They are at this very moment."

4. People thinking I am younger than I am

Okay, NOT. I actually hate this. Twice on Saturday, twice, I was referred to as Reenie's "big sister." Maybe it was because I was actually wearing makeup, something that moms obviously do not do. But here's the question, how many 21 month old children have "big sisters" who are 6 months pregnant? I wasn't wearing that disguising of an ensemble.

5. My New Body Pillow

To quote my lovely friend Heather: "No pregnant woman should be without one." Why, oh, why has it taken this long for me to be in possession of one of these wonders? I love it, love it, love it! Oh how sleep has taken on new and miraculous levels of joy! I hope my friend will never, ever leave me. Aaaahhh. I can't wait for my nap...

I'm normal, the Mom's club might work out, and my Avon Lady is DEFINITELY a man

Well the tests came back disappointingly normal. Guess I'll be going to bed earlier for the rest of my LIFE.

Also, a while ago I posted about my experience with a certain mom's group. The ladies were not, umm very social or welcoming, so I promptly quit subjecting myself to THAT. Anyway, I got a call earlier this week from a lady from the same mom's group. She basically said that the group was going through some changes. IE the old board members were leaving the group and the numbers were starting to dwindle and would I be interested in possibly being on the board. Hmmm....

So I called her back and told her why I had not come in the past. Uninviting experience, mom's not my age, left feeling worse than when I came, etc. Apparently I had not been the only one with these complaints... Anyway, she invited me to a playgroup yesterday and you know what? It was fun. Some new, nice and social girls and around my approximate same age. Yay! It might work out this time.

And my Avon Lady is a man. I am sure of it. The one time I called to speak with "her" it was a lady's voice mail and I left a message. The call was returned by a man (her "husband") and the product was delivered by a man in a Budweiser shirt. I recently placed another order via email. Guess who delivered my stuff? The same man, wearing a different, but nevertheless Budweiser shirt.

Now Charming says the guy said he was just doing deliveries for his "wife." I say if he really has a wife who sells Avon, she is either a white type personality, so passive and people shy that he does her business for her, or she is a red and just really wears the pants.

But I am pretty sure there's no wife. And my Avon Lady is actually Budweiser Man.

My kids offcially stink at hide and seek

Last night found me curled in a ball of laughter.

Charming and the kids were playing hide-and-seek for the first time ever.

Charming would hide in very easy to find him places. The kids would sit on the stairs and make loud sounds (I guess they thought it was part of the game) and then come out to find Daddy. They would get so close to where he was and then turn around and not see him. It was awesome.

Later we played it in their room. Charming hid behind the train table and you could see his back arching over the top of it. Reenie walks in, doesn't see him and walks out. E then finds him. They play again. Reenie leaves and E stays in the room with his eyes closed and counts to ten. Charming hides behind the chair and E is baffled when he opens his eyes. He disappeared. He looks around and then leaves the room.

E eventually came back and did find Daddy when Charming made the chair rock, but the best part was yet to come-- E's turn to hide. He hides in Daddy's original hiding spot behind the train table. Charming comes in after counting to ten and E waits about .5 seconds then jumps up saying, "You found me!" So he hides again. Same place. Same outcome. Only this time Charming pretends he can't see E and keeps looking in different places. E continues to jump up and down saying, "I'm here! You FOUND me!" Oh so funny.

And oh so few skills at the hide-and-seek.

Weeds and Fatigue

We have weeds. Not just weeds, but I would say WEEDS. Possibly even weeds from the gates of Hell. Not the weeds from Hell, because our next door neighbor has those. These are maybe their spawn. Not really sure.

Needless to say, the weeds are stressing me out. They are taking over our backyard, we have sprayed them twice, and while some are dead, many more are being "born" every day. I need to give these weeds the zero population talk see if they can keep themselves a little more chaste. They are taking a few too many liberties. It's not landscaped back there either. I called a lawn care guy today who said he had a great spray that would even keep seeds from germinating, but that it didn't kill grass. Not even wild grass, like some that we have back there. Problem is when I called the "weed control" services they said they only did commercial property and that their spray would kill everything for two years. Not what I need exactly.

So I am at square one. Tight budget, no tolerance for weeds, and much more to do in the yard beyond their removal.

And I am oh so very tired. The kind of tired that I am, I have decided goes beyond the normal pregnancy tired. I woke up this morning fatigued. I took a three hour nap from 1 to 4. I feel okay now, but how fair is it that I feel normal for only a few hours a day? I am going in to see my midwife today to have a blood draw so they can check a few things.

Hopefully they find something treatable.

If they don't, I think I need to start going to bed at 7 p.m. Because if I am going to feel like this everyday for the next 14 weeks, life is heading towards the the land of suckdom.

Any advice about the weeds?

My Apologies to the Ladies

Well, we went on our little blogging ladies weekend. Lots and lots of fun. And no one turned out to be an old man, so that was good.

After the dinner Saturday, we had our group picture taken by some folks in the parking lot. One "photographer" was quite funny. He kept saying things like, "Okay, now you're angry!"

Then, for me, as a pregnant lady (the other pregnant blogger having departed) who had gotten little sleep the night before and hadn't had a nap in two days, things began to fall apart.

The girls decided on a shopping trip to the dollar store and/or Wally-World to get matching, cheap-o mementos. Fine, no problem. But things started to get a little silly, and I started to want only a bed. Only a bed and not prolonged and drawn out giddiness at the Wal-Mart.

I am not always a party pooper.

So, I must give my apologies to the ladies. I hope that y'all will forgive my grumpy face and manners and understand that it was only my hormones and not because I didn't like any of you. You were all delightful, and I am only sorry I could not join you in your late night glee.

It already died, might as well eat it

I like meat. It's no secret. Go ahead and call me a big Meat Eater.

I also like animals. A lot. Not enough to keep unruly dogs in my household, but I nonetheless love critters.

That said, meat that looks like an animal is difficult for me. Now I am not talking about a steak cut into the shape of a cow or anything, I am talking about meat that looks like it's original self. I just cringe when I see its animal-ness and think that it was once alive and walking around, and then it died, and now I am going to eat it.

Why mention this? Because I did my first turkey yesterday. (I know, it's May. It's hot out. Why turkey? Because I bought one in November, didn't have Thanksgiving at home, and well... you get it.)

The instructions said "remove neck and giblets." Eeeeewww. That was one long neck folks. Why do they even leave it in there? Does anyone actually eat it? I just got so irked that I was pulling out this turkey's neck. His neck. The part that connects his mean, little head to his big, turkey body. Strange experience. Too much like animal, not enough like meat. Yeah, and I never found the giblets. (Though Charming did later, when he was carving it....)

So yes. Turkey trauma. But let me tell you, that bird tasted dang good. And as I said to Charming at the dinner table, apparently I can cook a turkey.

Things that Grow... and then Talk Smack

I am always amazed when things grow. I am mostly talking about my garden here, but yes I am still amazed that a baby can grow inside my body and then continue to grow once it's on the outside.

I recently planted some bulbs in my front yard, some strawberry plants in my square foot garden and some zucchini seeds in our hostile back yard. They are all coming up. I am amazed. I am feeling giddy about these things. The fact that the zucchini managed to pop up out of our harder than a rock dirt impresses me the most. I am second most impressed by the bulbs coming up, as I wasn't even sure I was planting them right.

But I just am so happy that my plants are growing. It is miraculous to me, to think of all that they had to push through to get to the surface. That water got down to them and stirred up life, I can hardly fathom. One of my strawberry plants that I was sure was dead, has started to sprout green leaves and I can hardly contain my joy.

This morning Reenie and I were in our yard, enjoying the in-my-opinion-entirely-too-warm morning, and I was thinking on these things. She was sitting on the two person swing when I decided to join her on the other end. She seemed irritated. She was quick to inform me (I kid you not) that I was "too heavy." She said clear as day, "you're too heavy."

Yeah, she's not even 2. I don't know where she learned the word heavy.

So, yes. The miracle of life. Growing things. Growing bigger, growing taller, growing the ability to insult people.

This is my life.

Mother's Day

It's a great day to be a mom. Reenie was very entertaining today during our church sacrament meeting, doing somersaults in front of our pew and the like. She has also discovered the art of "other uses for the sacrament cup."

E was the first to discover this art. He would take the tiny, clear, plastic cup and suck his lips into it so he looked like Sebastian when he was telling the little mermaid to "pucker up like this."



Sometimes he would get the cup to suck onto his chin so he looked like King Tut.

Reenie decided today that she should chew on a Finding Nemo sticker and then spit it back into the cup with glops of saliva. After this game was worn out, she put the cup in her mouth with the opening of the cup pulling back her lips and exposing her teeth and gums. Somewhat reminiscent of this:



or maybe this:



or even this:



Oh man, the things these kids do to make me laugh. I almost couldn't breathe as I was relating to Charming the manner in which E was picking his nose. Straight faced, staring off into the distance, the boy, in slow motion nonetheless, picked his nose, examined it, transferred fingers and very delicately brought it to his tongue. I wish I could do a video post. It was hilarious.

Happy Mother's Day.

Potential Book Titles

I don't have much to say, but sometimes things happen in my life that make me think, if I ever write a book about motherhood, I am going to use that for a title. So here are a few of them:

Saving Scrapbook Pages from Poopy Fingers: Tales from a Mother with Toddlers

There are Better Things to do with Quarters than Shoving Them in Your Diaper

Don't Use that Fork for Eating, I Saw Where You Just Put It: Strange Things You Say When You Become a Mom

Would it be Possible for You to Pee on the Floor Again Today? (A book about potty training, I think)

When I asked You to Clean up the Mess You Made, I didn't Mean that you had to Eat it

If I have to Vacuum up Another Box of Cereal, I Think I'll Go Insane

I Should Have Bought Stock in Fruit Snacks: Things I Wish I'd Known Before Becoming a Mother

Okay, that's it. Can you add any?

Got Friends?

“Raise your hand if you don't need or want any more friends,” said the Relief Society teacher one Sunday. One woman actually had the audacity to raise her hand and say she didn't think she could handle having any more. Hard for me to picture it coming from her, as she had always seemed unfriendly and intimidating. I couldn't see how she could have more than a couple of comrades.

But no one else did. In a room of twenty or so women, all living in the same neighborhood, only one dared to say she didn't need any more friends. And though my heart reached out to these sisters, I was nonetheless perplexed, for I had found difficulty in making friends with this same group of women. Were they just too scared to raise their hands? Or had no one ever taught them how to make friends?

It's interesting, I think, how we go about making friends. How we bring people into our circle. The circumstances under which we begin sharing our lives with others. When we are small, like my children, we become friends with whoever mom invites over for playdates or the neighborhood kids that we see when we go outside. Our friendships are based on proximity. And yet, even in my small children, I can see that they have preferences. Some children, for whatever reason, they do not get along with at all.

So sometimes, our friends are the people we see everyday, like in high school or in the workplace. Other times, we make friends with someone just because we like them. Their personality clicks with ours, or we are otherwise drawn to them. And if they like us too, this is great. We call each other to hang out and talk and it is enjoyable for everyone.

But what I want to talk about is becoming friends with someone out of need. Sometimes it is just the mutual need for friendship, but often it is because we need them or they need us for some other reason. When I moved back to Utah over a year ago, I needed friends. I needed support, I needed a whole lot of help because I was struggling with a deep and desperate depression. A neighbor, Aussie, filled that need for me. We became friends. Later, when I was doing much better, I struggled because I could not help Aussie in the ways she had helped me. It wasn't until she allowed me to serve her, that I felt true friendship grow between us.

I don't like the feeling of one-sided friendship. Mostly, I don't like it when I am not needed by my friends. It is hard to constantly give and never recieve (something I have experienced only once) but I would still rather be on the end that gives more than on the end that cannot give at all. And yet, if I do not allow others to give to me, then where is the mutuality of the friendship?

I think this is where my sisters in Relief Society are falling short. They are willing to give, but they are less willing to be given to. In our church we have a program called Visiting Teaching. Two women are paired together in a companionship and they are assigned two or more other sisters for whom they are to watch over, to visit, and to befriend. It is a wonderful program that I deeply love. The problem I have found is this: at the end of each visit the visiting teaching companionship asks the sister they visit if she needs anything. She very, very often says no. What does this say to that companionship? It says, to me at least, I don't need you and I don't need friends. It makes it hard for the relationship to be anything but superficial. Even if all she said was, "I need you to keep visiting me," a stronger bond would develop.

This all goes back to Kathryn's post about being real. For example, there is a girl that I visit teach, K, and she is a lovely girl with two small children, just younger than mine, and her husband works long hours, and she is far from her family. This to me screams need. At first, I thought this would be a great opportunity for friendship, and we are friends to a certain extent, but she always tells us when we visit that she has no needs. She is striving so hard for independence and trying to fight the fight alone, that is hard for us to become truly close.

And yet I have become really good friends with Cate, another girl I visit. She is so open about her needs, even though she doesn't necessarily ask for assistance. She is real, and fun to be with. We have become good friends because we could both fill needs for each other. She is ready and willing to serve me, and I do the same for her. She has family close by, like so many in our neighborhood, but yet she needs and wants friends, and so here we are.

There is so much more I want to say, but this has become a long post as it is. But to conclude, I say this, life is hard and it is too short to try and go it alone. If you come across as having no needs, you will be passed over and seen as someone who is "covered," as in, taken care of, no effort needed here. If you need friends, be a friend, but let others be a friend to you as well. Be who you are, you don't need to over-reveal, but you don't need to conceal either. Allowing others to see our life's imperfections creates connections.

Kids at the Albertsons

Well, sorry it's been awhile. I have been watching a couple of my friend's kids and it has been CRAZY. In fact, on Monday I decided to take my 20 month old, my 3 year old and her 6 and 3 year olds to the Albertson's store.

Yes that's right, 4 kids and one in the tummy.

Now, they really were reasonably well behaved. I don't have as much to blog about this event as would make this a truly interesting post, but I will say this, E was the best behaved, followed by Reenie. The 6 year old was walking and he kept dashing off, and the other three year old kept trying to get out of the cart.

But picture this: I am 25 years old. I am fair skinned and blonde and look young for my age. Here I am at the Albertson's store with four blonde headed kids and a pregnant belly. No possible way that all these kids could be mine, and me expecting another one. And yet, at the check out line, the cashier hands my preferred card to the six year old and says,

"Will you give this to your mom?"

To which he replies, "Oh, she's not my mom."

The cashier gives me a smile like, he's so funny and aren't you lucky. To which I say,

"He's really not."

She keeps smiling. I don't know why.

And I am pleased to report that I didn't lose anyone, none were injured, all enjoyed their cookie. I spent $56 and I saved $56. A great shopping day, all things considered.

Don't I Need a License for this?

So I got to thinking last night, thinking about my age and about how I am about to have a third kid, and I thought to myself, when did I grow up? How did I qualify for this job?

And I got to thinking about licenses. In this world, a license is required for many things. Sometimes we take a test, and sometimes we just shell out the dough. So now some lists.

Things we need a license for:

Fishing (no test)
Hunting (not sure about the test)
Driving (test)
Marriage (no test)
Flying (test)
Teaching school (test)
A pet (no test)
Cutting Hair (test)
Taking care of other people's children at a daycare (test?)

Things we do not need a license for:

Mowing the Lawn
$ex (not trying to be crass here)
Having and raising children
Grocery shopping
Tying shoes
Many other things....

Does anyone else find this odd? We need a license to get married, which is major, but we don't need to take any sort of test. We need a license to take care of other people's children, but no license is necessary for having our own children or the act that causes it.

I know this is not a new concept. It may not even be that interesting. But just something I thought I would throw out there. I think I do a pretty good job being a parent, but I think we might live in a nicer world if some parents had to take a test and get a license.

And does anyone else get annoyed with the turnover rate of Hollywood marriages?

Reenie Strikes Again

As I was going to bed last night, I grabbed one of my pillows only to find several pantiliners stuck to it. I had a chuckle and went to sleep.

This morning, Reenie found some additional mischief. She found my heated eyelash curler and shoved it curler part first into a tub of vaseline. It was pretty far in there, folks and I have not even attempted to take it out and clean it. When I found her, she had vaseline all over her adorable, smiling face.

So we came to check some e-mail. Apparently, while I deleted my fan mail from Pottery Barn, Reenie was decorating herself with black pen. I looked down to see her shoving it in her diaper and then drawing all over her legs. Funny thing is, rather than snatching the pen right away, I just sat and watched her, thinking how I probably should stop the nonsense. I took the pen. She got it back without me noticing. And then as she was toddling out of the room I observed something quirky about her stride. The pen was sticking out of the back of her diaper, and she was trying to keep it from falling out.

Crazy kid.

At bedtime we sing songs to our kids, usually whatever they request. Tonight's bedtime routine went like this:

Reenie: Song...
Me: What song?
Reenie: Up above... so High (translation, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star)
(I then sing her request)
Reenie: Song..
Me: What song?
Reenie: Up above... so High.
(I sing it again)
Reenie: Song..
Me: What song?
Reenie: Up above... so High.
Me: Umm, how about a different song. What do you want E?
E: I am going to pick a different one.
Me: Okay, which one?
E: Twinkle, Twinkle.

I sang it again and left them to their sweet dreams. What a life we lead... Have a good weekend!

The Great Mustache Contest

A little while ago, I mentioned that Charming was participating in a mustache contest at work. The rules were simple: Grow out all your facial hair for a month or so, and then shave it down to the mustache. They would then be judged on whose mustache looked the best. Here is Charming pre-shave down:



I don't have any pics of him, after the beard came off, but I can say, he looked a little something like this:



And so, we were not so surprised when Charming won the award for "Worst Looking Mustache."

And now he is back to looking like this: (he's on the right, thank you.)



I started calling him Baby Face, because he looked so young after the shave, but I really do prefer him this way. All though, now he is talking about how much he misses the beard, and I am thinking, it wasn't awful, but it wasn't great either. So tell me what you think? I really don't want the beard back...

It's 9:22 am, what else can she make a mess with today?

Reenie, it seems, is on a mishievously destructive path this morning.

First she ripped about ten keys of the computer keyboard, and about sent Daddy through the roof.

Then, she did something quite funny, which is actually why I am posting. I wish, oh I wish I could have posted a picture about this one. I thought she was downstairs with big brother, so imagine my surprise when I found her sitting in my room with a box of... pantiliners.

Yep, big white stickers, apparently. She had peeled the backs off of almost all the pantiliners, and was, get this, sticking them all over a ball. I just had to laugh, and then she peeled the clump of pantiliners and handed them to me. A gift. How lovely.

I hope this makes you laugh as much as I did. Little 19 month old girl with a box of pantiliners, a small purple ball, and a smile on her face. So innocently making a mess.

It's so early still, I wonder what else this day might hold. Any guesses as to what she might get into next?

Editor's Note: E later found said pantiliners and was sticking them to the bottom of his feet and calling them shoes. They were just the right size.

Monday Morning Confessions: Tasks I Do NOT Enjoy

I was going to title this post "Kid Tasks I Don't Like" but I didn't want to portray parenthood too negatively. Plus in all honesty, I really couldn't come up with many! Except for...

1. Blowing Bubbles for the Kids.
Yeah, don't like it. I love seeing their delight, but I hate the stickies on my fingers and the way they always want to do it themselves, so... Enter the My First Bubble Blower!

They just pull the handle and bubbles shoot out the top, I do nothing, they get bubbles and I don'thave to clean anything afterwards! (Amazon sells it for $12, we got ours on sale at the Tar-jhay for $10 on sale.)

2. Mopping the Floors
Not so much the task, but the preparation. The sweeping, the furniture moving, the buckets... Ugh.

3. Taking Showers
Before I go on, I do shower on a regular basis, and I consider myself quite clean. I do enjoy being in the shower, but getting out (cold!), drying off, and having to do my hair are mega-MEGA unfun.

4. Bra Shopping
Haven't done it lately, but it needs to be done. I just hate going and trying them on and seeing how every single brazier fits me in some uniquely strange way. I mean, the bra sizing is not quite accurate is it? They should sell sizes like 34 A perky, or 44 D hangs low, or for me 36 C has nursed two babies and is currently pregnant. Wouldn't that make it easier? Ooh! Or some kind of Jetson's style machine where you just walk in and walk out with a perfectly fitting bra. Yeah. Sounds good.

5. Being Sick
Not exactly a "task" per se, but I am sick today. Sore throat, lack of voice, head bursting, phlegm. Not fun. At least it's snowing outside, so I have double excuses to have a lazy movie watching day with the kiddies.

All right, I know you don't love doing everything. So I turn it over to you for your own confessions...

Unrealistic

So, I was doing a little online window browsing for maternity clothes this morning and I came across this image:


Anyone else believing this? This is supposed to be a pregnant woman in a swimsuit bottom. I take issue with this image for the following reasons:

1. This woman if pregnant at all, is not very far along. She will not look like this for her entire pregnancy. She will be much, much bigger.

2. Sure, I'd wear a bikini if my tummy was all shiny and flawless and airbrushed!

3. What is up with the media? It's bad enough that they make women feel the need to be perfect looking when NOT pregnant, but come on! Cut us some slack when we're eating for two!

Having said number three, I really enjoy my pregnant body. I love being curvy for a legitimate reason (and not because I ate too many bon bons) and I can't get enough of the big belly. That said, if anyone else were to see me in the buff, they might not agree with my positive body self image.

I think we can all relate here, don't you?

A Tale of Two Warts

As you may recall, I went in about a month ago to see the doctor concerning some warts of mine on the soles of my feet. I have decided that wart removal is a little bit like cosmetic surgery. Lemme Esplain:

1. It's painful. The procedure itself is bad, but the recovery pain is worse. I felt like the biggest dork limping around for three or four days-- not because I was injured, but because of a voluntary procedure I had undergone.

2. It 'aint pretty. I have seen the pictures of those recovering from going under the knife. They don't look good. At first my warts turned black, then they peeled off taking some outer skin leaving me with a peeled back blister revealing tender pink skin. Grossedy-ossey-gross.

3. You must go through the ugly stage to reach the swan stage. I know that once it is all over I should have my beautiful smooth foot skin once again. A couple weeks ago, I looked at Reenie's cute little toddler feet and was very envious. Soon, I told myself, soon.

4. Sometimes you have to do it again. Yep, I am going to have to go in again for "the big one." She is still around, though not as massive. I shudder. I do not want to go again...

Well, that's it in my world. What's going on with you? I hope none of you have to deal with warts.

What not to do

Here is what I do not suggest. Never, ever, EVER adopt a dog when you have an 19 month old, a 3 1/2 year old and are 5 months pregnant. It may sound like a good idea at the time, but let me tell you, it oh so very is not.

Yeah, we adopted a German Short Hair Pointer today at shortly before 1 pm. Shortly after 5 pm, we returned her to the rescue group.

I feel like a dork. I feel stupid. I feel inadequate. And I feel oh so incredibly relieved that the dog is out of my house.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love dogs. And this dog was great with my kids and they LOVED her. They were draping themselves over her, pulling on her tail and hitting her and she could have cared less. What I could have cared less for was the multiple times she peed (and pooped) on my carpet, her indifference to me, and the way she escaped causing us to drive around the neighborhood before we could leash her and force her into the car.

I feel like I haven't had a break all day.

It was like having my post-partum depression all over again. I cried all day and was exhausted and I spent so much time tending to the dog, that I ignored my kids. (More than I usually do anyway. :))

Well, it's over. The kids didn't seem to care that I took her back, since they didn't know we could potentially have her forever anyway. The shelter refunded my adoption fee and I am only out about $50 which I spent on dog food and stuff, but that I donated to the rescue group. At least they got something out of it.

So what have I learned? Dogs are a lot of work, they are like having another child, and shelter dogs are like step-children since you still have all the responsibility and they don't have any loyalty to you. And don't get a dog unless you have a fence. I just couldn't take trying to keep the dog and the kids from escaping our backyard.

And I have learned that other peoples dogs are great for my kids. Just fine.

Should we let him open his own bank account?

So E knows what money is. He recognizes coins as money, and dollar bills as money. (As a side note, he once slipped me a fifty while I was taking a nap.) Anyway. I don't know if he knows what money is for, but as it turns out this kid may be more observant than I thought. Yesterday he brought me my American Express card and said, "Here's your money, Mom."

Wow.

Since we've never called credit cards money, I was impressed.

Not bad for a three year old, eh?