They Grow Up So Fast . . .

I know this is technically just another 'First Day of Kindergarten' type of post . . . but I was looking at the pictures of Annie & Sarajayne on their first day of Preschool two years ago vs. them last week getting ready to catch the bus to go to school . . . time flies!

And just an FYI, but Greg, Isaac and I (and our trusty babysitter Aunt Lacy) will all be waking up freakishly early in the morning to get Isaac to the hospital by 6:15AM so we can get tubes in this kid's ears already and hopefully magically turn him back into a cheerful kid, and not the super grumpy clogged-ears baby that's been screaming at all hours at our house over the last several weeks (er, months!)  Wish us luck!

Dramatic Much, Part 2

So, my last post was about Ellie's dramatic use of the word forever or ever (or 'ev-ah' in Ellie speak).

I got another example!  Today, her best little friend was over in the morning, riding bikes and playing in the sandbox and all that, but apparently, they had a falling out.  I didn't even catch what it was about.  But, on the drive to Target that afternoon, Ellie informed me, "Kate was not nice to me, we are NOT friends any more.  Not eva!  Not eva, eva, eva, EVA!  You not be mean to friends, so we not friends eva more!  Not eva, eva, EVA, EVA, EVA!  She say mean things to me, so not eva, eva, eva friends again!"  (Seriously, this starts at TWO?!) I tried to calm her down a bit, talking about how sometimes friends just get upset at each other and once we apologize (and Annie added, "and forgive each other!") we go right back to being good friends again.  (It should be stated here, that Ellie is no angel -- her and her cute little best friend Kate butt heads regularly, and from what I've seen, it's at least 50/50 of who's behind the drama, if not a bit 'Ellie leaning' if you're looking for fault.) 

Ellie thinks about this for a second, then sighs and says more calmly, "OK Mom, if Kate says sorry, then we be friends again," then adding emphatically, "But if NOT, then we NEVA, EVA, EVA, EVA friends again FOREVA!"  Dramatic much, my little munchkin?  Dang, girls are crazy.  (They then played the entire afternoon, totally best friends again and it was all forgotten . . . until they got into a fight again before it was time for Kate and her sister to go home . . . sigh . . . I can't let Ellie be around friends unsupervised if she's hungry or tired, she gets all sensitive and moody!)

Have I mentioned how excited I am for them to be teenagers one day?  Where these 'we'll never, ever, ever, ever, EVER be friends again' fights will happen on whatever-the-facebook-equivilent-will-be-in-12-years-or-so.  Relatedly, I was thinking of my own Junior High drama, and was thanking my lucky stars there was no real social media at the time.  That would've been brutal!  Poor kids these days!

Busy Day

Today was a lot of fun -- my wonderful neighbors threw me a baby shower and I had so much fun visiting and laughing with everyone, not to mention feeling spoiled with all the great little boy clothes, blankets and gadgets we got! (I'll have more of the shower, with pictures, a little later.)

Then I came home and mowed the front lawn. I think Greg was a bit annoyed with me when I told him what I was doing over the phone. He said to wait 'til he got off work and he'd do it when he got home. I told him he was just nervous about getting crap from the neighbors about his 39+ week pregnant wife mowing the lawn. :-) I finished all the laundry, vacuumed, got caught up on all the dishes, and even scrubbed out every square inch of the refrigerator. And yet, the baby did not get the message, and seems to be comfortably settling in for a long night of no labor. :-)

"Let Me Help You With That"

Annie and I were watching something on TLC or the Discovery channel or something similar, that was profiling preemies. We discussed that our baby wouldn't be that small and wouldn't need any of the tubes or the incubator if he's born when he's supposed to be born, and not early like the babies on TV. Annie was concerned about the babies she was seeing, and asked if they would be OK. We talked about how the doctors are usually able to help babies who are born really early and that start out so small. Annie still seemed a bit distressed, so I explained that her own best friend, Sarajayne, had been born a whole nine weeks early, and had been really teeny tiny, but how she's perfectly fine and just like Annie and any other three and a half year old now. Annie was finally OK with it, seemed to no longer be as concerned about the babies on the television, and I thought we'd reached the end of subject on this one . . .

Until the next day, when Sarajayne was over playing with Annie on the swings, and I suddenly hear Annie say, in her sweetest maternal voice, "Oh Sarajayne, since you were really tiny and almost died as a baby, I'll come push you on the swing!"

New rule for Annie: No more telling your friends they nearly died. It could make for awkward phone calls I'll have to have with their Mom's later on, when they go home and tell their Mom that you informed them they almost died.

(I preemptively told Sarajayne's Mom about the conversation -- just in case her three year old came home distraught upon finding out she'd nearly died and had never known it. Fortunately Sarajayne seemed fairly unaffected by the news.)

iPod & Village Inn & I've Annoyed Off the IRS

iPod:
Only a decade or so behind the curve, I am now the proud owner of an iPod . . . with music, videos and pictures all loaded, favorite radio stations tagged, and I'm becoming a near expert on holding the tiny Nano while filming video of my kids. I feel so 'with it'.

But, I'm coming to you for some advice. Since pretty much everyone (Annie included) knows more about iPods than me . . .

Do I need a cover/case? If so, what kind is best?
What accessories are worth it? What are a waste of time and money?
Is there any chance I'll start using the Nike Pedometer feature to walk myself to better health? (Um, no, probably not.)


Village Inn:
Nothing beats going to Village Inn, eating pie, and staying and talking with an old friend until they start turning out the lights. Except maybe when they give you that pie for free (with any other purchase). That just tops off the whole evening. My friend Jessi and I had debated eating at 'classier' joints, but where else can you go and sit and take up a table for hours and hours without feeling guilty? So, we met up around 7PM, and talked and laughed and enjoyed triple berry pie up until we noticed the rest of the place was pretty much empty, I'd finished my third glass of water an hour ago, and they'd just turned off the lights in the front half of the restaurant. We made our way outside, and if it weren't for the bitter cold, I may not have made it home before midnight. As it was, we both froze our butts off within just a couple minutes and finally managed to part ways. The funny thing is I could've talked for hours more, and never have run out of things to talk about. I came home so wired from having had such great girl talk time, that I started recounting topics of conversation to Greg until he finally started reading scriptures aloud over my chatter, in an attempt to move me a little closer to letting him go to bed. It kinda worked.
It was the third night in a row I've ditched Greg to get the kids to bed on his own (thanks!), and not gotten to sleep 'til after 1AM, but it was well worth it. Oooh, and Jessi picked up the bill. I'm beyond spoiled. :-)

Jessi - we should set up a monthly 'appointment' for such activities! Like every 2nd Wednesday or something cheesy like that. I never remember just how worthwhile making time for these kinds of things is until I actually do it. If anyone else wants to meet up, just let us know!


IRS:
So, the government and TurboTax got my hopes up with a whole "You should expect your tax return on Friday, Feb 12th." That's when my sister was expecting hers, and she got hers several days early. My sister-in-law was likewise promised money by that Friday, and it showed up in time. Me? I anxiously waited. Repeatedly checking my checking account, as well as setting up new e-alerts on it so I'd be texted AND emailed when the money showed up. And I waited some more. And it wasn't there on Friday. Or the next Monday. I checked the "Where's My Refund?" IRS site, and was informed I could expect my deposit on February 23rd. That's like a week and a half later! I was very disappointed, and kept up my diligent stalking of my checking account, as well as the "Where's My Refund?" page, hoping for some good news about my date being bumped up. (Oddly, I haven't figured out why this means anything to me -- the money is earmarked for a new shed and sandbox -- so it's not like we're gonna even touch it for months, and yet I've developed a slight obsession with the dates the money is supposed to be deposited.) Anyway, for days it mocked me with it's 'next Tuesday' date. Until a few days ago when it suddenly changed to a significantly longer message:

Your tax refund is scheduled to be direct deposited on February 19, 2010. If your refund is not credited to your account by February 24, 2010, check with your bank to find out if it has been received. Please wait until February 24, 2010 before you contact us again because we are unable to take any action until then.

I should be happy it's supposed to arrive tomorrow. But instead I feel like the IRS just told me to back off and stop being such an obsessive freak. :-)

Dynamic Duo

All morning (and I do mean all morning, now that we're on the much dreaded 1:00PM Church schedule) Annie kept asking, "Is Sarajayne going to be there? Is Sarajayne gonna be there? Will Sarajayne be there?" and so on and so forth. I couldn't make any promises, as Sarajayne misses Church from time to time with colds and such, just like every other preschool aged child, but I reassured her I was 'pretty sureSarajayne would be there.' As we were pulling out of our driveway I pointed out excitedly to Annie, "LOOK! Sarajayne's garage door is opening! They must be on their way to Church!" All through Sacrament, Annie kept turning around trying to spotSarajayne's family in the congregation. She was starting to get worried, but became one very happy little girl when we spotted their family as we were leaving Sacrament meeting. Annie rushed up to her best friend, and they were soon met up with by another neighbor around their age, Lily, and the trio so adorably looked like a pint sized version of gabbing women catching up between their Church meetings. :-)

Today was a big day at Church for Annie, as it is the week she would officially graduate from nursery (which kids attend from 18 months old through the end of the year in which they turned three), to Primary (and specifically, their "Sunbeams" class, which they start the year they will turn four years old.) I knew we had a lot of kids that age, but I was surprised to see the Sunbeams list with 19 names on it! Because putting any one or two adults in a class with 19 three yearolds in it would be cruel and all, they split the group into two separate classes. My worst fear was on one of the lists that was printed up -- with Annie in one class andSarajayne in another. Annie would be heartbroken, this was her best little friend, and every day of preschool and Church was prefaced with the questions of, "WillSarajayne be there?" How could I tell Annie that Sarajayne would never be in her class at Church? But, there was a second list printed right next to the first, with Sarajayne's name listed in the same class as Annie. I was confused, but hopeful that the list they were going off of would have the two girls in the same class for the year. As soon as Church was over, I rushed to pick up Annie from her class, and was excited to hear about her first day in 'real' Primary. I got there after most of the other parents had picked up their children. I couldn't wait to hear about Annie's first Sunbeam experiences, but the first question I asked the teacher (who had also been Annie's nursery teacher, who 'moved up' with them) was, "IsSarajayne in your class too?" I was overjoyed to hear that the two best buddies were in the same class again this year. I told her how I'd been so worried about them being separated when I'd seen the two different class lists, and she told me, "Oh, originally they were put in different classes, but my husband told the Primary that these two girls couldn't be separated!"
I'm glad I'm not the only one who sees how adorably inseparable these two friends are!

Here's some pictures from October of the two of them . . .

(Um, yeah . . . I think Annie's understanding of 'personal bubble' is possibly still a bit immature -- she's constantly grabbing Sarajayne's hand, throwing her arm around her, hugging her enthusiastically). :-)

How Happy are You?

I read a post on Blog Segullah this morning, and have been thinking about it ever since.
The article is about a recent study that states that women of today are less happy than in generations past, and men are happier. Then the author talks about the reasons she feels that is true.

I've thought about this a lot, as it seems that myself and many of my peers just seem to 'struggle' more than a lot of our mothers did in our roles and our attitudes and feelings towards being a Mom. Maybe our Moms just aren't remembering things the way they really were, or maybe they didn't feel the same conflict in roles and responsibilities that we do now. Maybe they didn't feel only the pull of a myriad of responsibilities, but more so, maybe they didn't have to deal with the same plethora of opportunities.

For what it's worth, I am much happier than I was at 20. More stressed at times, more frustrated, and I spend more time at the 'end of my rope'. But definitely happier. Life has more purpose, and I'm surrounded by people who love me absolutely.
I often wonder if I'd grown up in another time, raised my children in another era, how that would affect my frustration level. If I'd started having kids at 20, never having had a career of my own for nearly a decade, how would my satisfaction level as a mother be different? How would that affect how I rate 'fulfillment' in my role?
Being a Mom is the greatest thing I've ever experienced. I don't handle it perfectly, I make a lot of mistakes, but I've also never done something that I've felt as 'made' for . . . I look at my girls and realize on a deep, profound level, that nobody on earth could love these two people the way I do. I have a firm belief that I was created to be able to mother. I remind myself of that when there are times I feel like things are getting out of control, out of hand. But how is my experience as a mother different than my own Mom's, or Grandma's?

The post talked about several things I've given lots of thought to and how they affect me and those I care about:
• "We live in a very “me-focused” society . . . Self is pre-eminent in this day and age."
• "We live in a very “therapeutic society” . . . constantly lying down on our virtual couches, taking our own temperatures, assessing our state of happiness/unhappiness in a way that other people didn’t in the past."
• "Those who study human life cycle development will tell you there has been a marked prolonging of adolescence and a delayed assumption of adult roles."
• "You don’t have to fill all your own needs in order to really be happy and help others, in fact we’re told in service and losing ourselves, we find ourselves."
• "The interesting part of this study too is that men are getting happier (while they attribute it to decreased pressure to be the sole breadwinner), I find it interesting that men, as compared with previous generations, have become more involved in housework and the care of their children."
• "Our culture teaches us that freedom and leisure = happiness. Face it, kids and domestic life are the opposite of leisure and freedom."


The following is probably the quote that stuck out the most to me:

"If you see happiness pleasure, a mere emotion, something you can’t control, then having children probably will make you less happy. Yet if you view happiness a choice, something we assign to our lives when we are doing something we feel is important and has purpose, despite our momentary emotions - you probably won’t feel the same way."

Are women really less happy than they were in generations past? Now that we have microwaves, minivans and don't have to wash clothes out on a line? And if so, why? I don't feel unhappy, but I know a lot of Moms who struggle with this . . . and many of us seem to find this whole motherhood gig tougher than we ever thought it'd be. I love blogging (obviously) . . . but what, if any, affect has it had on maternal satisfaction levels? My Mom is constantly 'shocked' by how many young mothers social needs are met online and through blogging, rather than face to face play dates and girls nights out. Are we pulling too far away from face to face socializing? How does that affect our thoughts on, and ability to cope with, motherhood? But, at the same time, doesn't blogging bring the whole world of human (and mother) experience right to our homes, where we can always find someone who's gone through what we are currently dealing with? I know finding others that understood extreme colic to be helpful, as I didn't feel as much like the only Mom in the world who's baby was possessed. But again, was too much time spent trying to find and read and analyze the problems we were having, rather just dealing with it and living through it and getting past it? (I'm totally just stream of conscience babbling here, I haven't actually decided how I feel about any of this.) Now that I'm out of the work force, I know I miss daily interaction and face to face time with other adults . . . do I rely too much on the internet, phone and email to connect me with others now, all the while conveniently getting my dishes done or letting the baby nap? How would my life be different, how would my experience as a Mother be different, if I got more face to face time with other adults, specifically Moms. (I actually do get together with other women at least a few times a week, while the girls are playing with their kids. And much like how once Annie got a taste for friends, she now asks me everyday when a friend is coming over to play, now that I am more used to different women coming over and just hanging out and talking, I feel a loss when that doesn't happen enough.) How would things for me be different if that time was doubled, and I took all strangers blogs out of my google reader? (I don't know where I'd start.) But again, blogging is something that I've enjoyed immensely. It has connected me with new friends, and definitely brought old friends back into my life in a way they wouldn't have been. So a blend of 'real life' and 'virtual life' is not only possible, but has broadened my social circle in a very positive way.
OK, I'm totally just randomly typing here, I've even complete focus and direction, but those are some of the thoughts shooting around in my head. That I'm now sharing with the internets! What are your guys' thoughts?

Protecting One's Heart

Sometimes I imagine what it will be like when Annie's a teenager. (Probably because the passage of time seems to be speeding up beyond my control and it'll be here before I know it!) I have this fear. I picture a time where Annie and my relationship will be volatile and downright nasty at times. (Karma has already kicked my butt with colic, severe toddler independence, a complete aversion to naps and sleeping . . . why wouldn't my own teenage horribleness not come back to bite me in the butt as well).

I mean, sure, I hope that for the most part we can be close, communicate openly, be supportive and loving and all that . . . but I know there'll be times I'll wanna strangle her angsty teen self. I know some night I'll be up late, possibly most of the night, maybe hurriedly putting the finishing touches on a prom dress or something (OK, that example is almost laughable, since I will never be a part of sewing a single thing for my children, but it was the example that popped into my head), and in the morning she'll be 'eternally' grateful, gushing about the amazingness that is her Mom. And I'll glow. Then, she'll stay out an hour or two past our predetermined curfew that night, and in the morning will be sat down by disappointed (and sleep deprived) parents and given some form of consequence for her disobedience. Then it'll start. Suddenly, I'll be the 'mean' Mom. Who's trying to control her, who isn't treating her like an 'adult', who won't let her make her own decisions. Then she'll start telling her friends, our neighbors, her Young Women leaders, all about how mean and cruel her Mom is. How controlling and practically abusive. Every last nice thing I've ever done, any loyalty I should have earned from her, will have suddenly disappeared, and all anyone will hear is about how mean I am.

Should it bother me? Probably not. Who really cares if her friends think I'm a 'cool' Mom or not. As for the adults she'll talk to, they'll recognize at least a portion of her rhetoric as being highly influenced by teenage drama and hormones. And yet, I find it all very terrifying. The idea of someone I have never done anything but give everything I could to make happy, suddenly 'hating' me, even if just for awhile, is horrendous. The idea of my 'cruel' actions being broadcast to the masses is just as horrifying. Should it really matter? Probably not, I would hope by the time I'm 40 years old I'd have a little more control of my emotions, and be able to simply look at the situation and think to myself, "I'm not going to let the silly gossip of a teenage girl hurt my feelings." But, right now, I can't imagine it not hurting. I may be years from Annie talking trash about me with her friends (or much, much closer than I realize), but similiar situations in my life already break my heart. What will it be like when it's my own daughter? I haven't posted anything really but pictures and videos for most of this week, and that's mainly because my heart has been breaking. I have a hard time writing when I'm hurting. And I've definitely been hurting. I try and be a good friend. I don't always suceed, but I think most of my friends recognize (and even appreciate) that I try. Some friendships are easy. Like, I can go a month or two without actually even talking to Jessi on the phone, and we can one day decide to meet up somewhere, and we'll happily talk for hours, like time hasn't even passed. I talked on the phone yesterday with a friend, Mindi, who I haven't seen since right after her two year old was born (see, I was being honest when I said I'm not always the best friend), and we easily fell into a comfortable conversation and promised to meet up next week at the Dinosaur museum. Some friendships require more than others. Some give back more than others. But it's the variety of friends and relationships that make up the whole of who we are, and who we have. It works for me that I have some friends I only see every few years, and still count them among my closest friends. But some friendships require more to stay strong though. One particular relationship I have is a pretty constant relationship. We tend to see a lot of each other. It's also a friendship that I give a lot to. In a lot of ways, it's a big priority in my life. It comes before a lot of things. Although I would like to think I would drop anything to help out any of my friends, this relationship is one where I actually am frequently required to drop everything, and fairly often. I really have put a lot of effort into being there for this friendship. I have honestly given a lot of myself. Which I think is when we are the most vunerable. 'Cause currently, this friend is mad at me. And I can see why, I'm not a perfect person, I make mistakes, and I know I inadvertently hurt her. This is someone who quite frequently gets mad at me, so I can handle that pretty easily. She's in a rough spot right now, and if I occassionally become the punching bag to her raw emotions, I'm both OK with it and used to it. It's part of our friendship, and always has been. And I've always been able to handle the situations that come up with a quick cry to my Mom, my husband or my sisters, then with a little time I'm over it. Usually. Sometimes I write long, rambly letters about how hurt I am, then after reading it a few dozen times, I delete the file and get over it. But now, like I picture my own daughter's teenage angst, the pain is spreading rapidly as I'm finding out what is being said about me to others. About how horrible I am, how I'm barely a friend at all, how I 'interferred' and 'made things up'. I can't quite tell what hurts most, that people are hearing all manner of untrue things that I've supposedly said or done, or that someone who knows me actually feels justified in saying them. Actually, I do know what hurts the most. It hurt the most when I tried to contact her. Tell her I was sorry that I'd hurt her, that I hadn't meant to, that it'd all been an attempt to help her gone awry. How my heart was breaking that she was really saying and thinking these things about me. How, even if I did do something wrong, I have only ever tried to be there. To be a good friend. To be what she's needed from me. And I really feel that should earn me some small benefit of the doubt, a belief that there's even a small chance that I'm not as bad of a friend as I'm being painted. That it should be enough that even if she's mad at me, and her other friends are mad at me, it should have earned me enough loyalty for her to say, "Yeah, I'm mad, but I know she's not a bad person, we'll get over this like we do everything else. We're just mad at each other, don't you be mad at her too," to those who suddenly think I'm the worst person/friend ever. (Trust me, I know . . . I have the emails to prove what they think of me.) The fact that the situation has been 'spun' to garner more sympathy for her, but making me out to be this bad person, is so intensely painful. I cried as I left the message. I hadn't meant to. I was going to be 'strong'. But I couldn't help it, I cried. And I never got a response. Well, not true. I got a text message that said, "I'm at work, so I can't be on the phone." That was two days ago. Since then, nothing. That's probably what hurt the most. (And just an FYI, this post isn't meant to serve as any kind of 'message' to her or anything. She never reads my blog, only rarely even getting on the internet. I don't know if she's ever even seen the blog. None of her friends see it either. Our friendship is quite unique, there's something that despite us having nothing in common, keeps us together. We have very few common friends, and hang out in completely different circles. This is just me writing through my pain.)

Then today I came across this quote:

"The one thing you can’t take away from me is the way I choose to respond to what you do to me. The last of one’s freedoms is to choose ones attitude in any given circumstance.”

- Victor Frankl

I think that's absolutely inspiring. And yet, easier said than done. I want to choose to thave a better attitude. To not be offended, or even worried about it. To let time just take away this pain and this situation, and not worry about it anymore. And that power to chooose is all mine, nobody gives it to me, it's mine to grab ahold of and run with. But, how do you do it? How do you protect your heart? How do you tell yourself, "I know I'm not a mean/horrible/unfair/uncaring/cruel person/Mom/friend/sister, so I'm not going to let what's being said about me bother me?" How do you let it just not bother you? 'Cause I try . . . and I can pull it off for awhile, but then it seeps in, starts to corrode the shell I built up around the pain, and I end up a sobbing ball in Greg's lap after the girls are asleep. No matter how many times I tell myself if doesn't matter what people I hardly know (and even some I love fiercely) are saying about me, that I know I'm a good friend and my intentions were good, I can't seem to actually make that noble thought penetrate deep enough to really make the difference I need it to. I do know from experience that time will heal all wounds, no matter how raw and horrible they feel right now. And in this particular case, a month from now, we will both ignore such hurt feelings even passed between us, and things will be back to 'normal' again. Even when normal seems to hurt me so often. Can one change normal in a relationship that has lasted nearly a decade? Can you break it down and build it up as something new? Or is it doomed to continue on like this forever, or until a friendship just drifts apart, either naturally or because of a willful decision to make it happen? Or can one affect real change on the status quo? And is it possible if only one of the participants in the relationship seem to think there is a problem or a need for change? If the other person is perfectly content with how things are, then is change even possible?

And seriously, the first time Annie tells all her friends about her 'horribly mean' Mom, I think I'm going to cry.

And I now feel a need to apologize to my own Mom. Sorry, I know I was a rotten, ungrateful brat of a teenager sometimes (a lot of the time), and if it's any consolation, I now realize and recognize that I was blessed with two of the most amazing, supportive, capable, loving parents one could ever hope for. Also, for anyone who I was friends with during my teenage years, please note that whatever I said about my Mom was most likely completely biased by teenage angst, flavored by righteous indignation, and just all around blown out of proportion and wrong. She's amazing. End of story.

Many, Many Years Ago

In July 1988, our best friends from Barstow, CA came out to visit us in Utah. My Mom took my two best friends Bobbi and Marlie, my sisters Star and Talina and their best friends Beth and Tricia, and me, all to the Salt Lake Temple grounds to go walk around.

My poor Mom was getting a LOT of stares, with 7 girls in tow . . . and to top it off, she was 8 months pregnant.

She finally had someone walk up to her and say, "I bet you get down on your knees every night and pray that this next baby is a boy!" My Mom explained that four of the girls were visiting friends, and that she was in fact pregnant with another girl, Lacy. :-)




Then, last week, Bobbi came into town with her own kids and we had the chance to get together and all go to the Oquirrh Temple together. So here we are, 21 years later (that makes me feel old!) with our six kids in tow.
It was so great to catch up and see each other . . . and to see Bobbi as a Mom, to four adorably cute children (including a set of twin boys!) It was amazing to me that it had really been so long since we'd seen each other last (probably not a full 21 years, but it's been a LONG time), and yet it felt like time had hardly moved at all. If there wasn't evidence of children/husbands in the mix, I'd hardly believe we were two 30 year old grownups! :-)

Time flies!

And now for some more recent 'then and now' photos . . . here's my girls every 4th of July since they were born . . . Annie is wearing the same outfit this year as she was last, and Ellie is wearing the same outfit at one years old as Annie did at this age. I'm cheap like that. :-)

Liz -- The Trailblazer (and Birthday Girl!)

I've mentioned before that I won the marriage lottery. Well, not only did I marry my perfect partner, but I married into a wonderful family who has been supportive and loving since day one.
It's a weird experience 'becoming' part of a family. I had it easy though. Greg's family was accepting, excited (I think) and wonderful about me suddenly being a daughter and sister. I feel it was made especially easy, because Liz came first. Liz and Greg's brother Chris, were married almost two years before Greg and I. Liz is so loved by, and so natural and comfortable in, this family, that you would never be able to guess that she hadn't spent her whole life with them. It meant the world to me, to watch Liz interact with my new family, and seem so at ease. It made me confident that this new family of mine would be just as much my family as the one I was born into.
There were times, early on, during dinners where people were laughing and talking and telling stories, and all I could think of is, "I have NO idea who they are talking about or what they are talking about." And, I have to admit, I felt like a bit of an outsider. I remember telling Greg once, "I'm excited for when Andrea gets married, so I won't be the 'newbie' anymore. I'll actually know more than someone else!"
But Liz was always there for me . . . I could ask her later, or email her about it, and just be like, "OK, what's up with that story?!" or "Who were they talking about?!" Sure, I could've asked Greg, but have you ever tried to get background information a guy. It's like when your husband finds out about friend's new baby before you do. "Oh, that's great! How'd delivery go?" "I don't know." "But, Mom and baby are OK?" "I don't know, probably." "Well, was it a boy or a girl?" "I don't remember." "How big?" "I don't know." "Are they home from the hospital?" "Ummmm . . . ?" So on, and so forth. And for a girl like me, who grew up in a family of sisters, it was wonderful to have Liz, and Greg's sister Andrea, who knew 'girl' information, and could fill in the vast amounts of missing information one encounters when they enter a new family with nothing but a husband to guide them. (I can't imagine how lost I would've been if Greg hadn't had at least one little sister and one married brother to bring another girl into the family. Growing up in my family, I'm not that used to all that testerone and less-than-delving conversation.)
Liz and I could also figure things out together. Put together whatever little information we could get from our husbands, and be able to collaborate and be like, "OH! That's what they were referring to!" or "Oh, THAT relative! I get who we're talking about now." And I swear she did a better job than Greg in letting me know who everyone was at family parties. Greg was more like, "Oh, they have TWO kids? Huh, I didn't know that." Liz knew actual names, and approximate birthdates! (Trust me, Greg knows a lot more about the going ons of his extended family now that I'm in the picture than he ever did before I was around.) Liz was just as adored, and a part of, Greg's extended family as she was his immediate. She was my guide a lot of the time. She taught me how to be a part of the family. To just go with it. Get into it. Go ahead and don't bite your tongue when you have the perfect comeback. They'll respect you more. :-)
I think one thing that has meant the most to me though, has been the opportunity to share pregnancies and new motherhood with Liz. Liz and I are both oldest children (another thing that bonds us), and none of our other siblings were married for awhile after us. I always pictured my kids having lots of cousins, but as it turns out, there won't be many their ages. But, Chris and Liz have two little boys, born the same years as our two girls. (Sure, they dragged them off to Indiana so Chris could a world class education and provide well for his family and all that, but my girls love their cousins, love to watch videos and look at pictures. Annie often tells me her imaginary friends have gone to Notre Dame for a visit. She even told me once that Doh doo was from Indiana!) But, when Liz and I were pregnant with our first children (and before that, getting ready to get pregnant) we would email back and forth, almost every single day, about the whole experience. Just everything we were going through, thinking, dreading, anticipating. And we were doing it together. And I can't imagine this journey into motherhood without Liz. Since none of my own sisters have had children, it has been an incredible blessing to have Liz to go through it with. Not everyone understands what it's like to be living life with a baby and a two year old, and yet here I have Liz, who is doing it too. I have her to assure me I'm not as crazy as I feel, if I totally lost all my cool with a two year old who threw her plate of veggies across the kitchen. Or, at least that I'm not alone in the craziness. We talk often, sometimes for hours, about motherhoods ups and downs, challenges and amazing rewards. We marvel together at all our children are doing and learning (Connor, for example, is months younger than Annie, but can name all 50 states, and spell ambulance and bridge to name a few of the words off his amazing spelling list. I have genius nephews!)
Liz is a smart, well spoken, supportive, opinionated, passionate, giving, amazing woman, and I love talking with her. We don't always agree on everything 100%, but we share so many core values and there is a definite respect there, and there are few people who's opinions I value more. She is well read, well traveled, well versed . . . just well rounded, I guess. She is loving and accepting of people of all backgrounds, firm in her faith and beliefs, passionate about her causes and a wonderful wife and mother to her family. The women of Greg's family (Liz, his sister Andrea, his Mom, several of his cousins) have been wonderful examples to me. They are passionate about a huge diversity of interests and ideas, and I have learned so much from them. Being a part of another family has opened up eyes and doors for me.
And today is Liz's birthday (which means she's also a Gemini! Another great quality to add to her list of virtues!) Happy Birthday Liz. Thanks for coming in and blazing the trail for me . . . you are a wonderful example. You are loved and adored by your husband, your children, your family, and your sister in laws! (I'm gonna go out on a limb, and assume that Andrea will agree with me on this one!) :-) I can't imagine my life without the sisters I gained through marrying Greg. You really would've thought four sisters was already enough, but apparently you can never have too many!

Happy Birthday Liz!
Happy Birthday to a great exmaple. A supportive, loving wife. An amazing Mom. Far better than she even realizes. A true friend, amazing sister, aunt and daughter to those who are fortunate enough to count her as such.

Liz with my very squishable nephew Nathan. Don't you just want to 'pillsbury doughboy' that belly!?

Liz and my other nephew Connor.

Here's Liz and I with our first babies . . . this was right before Chris & Liz left for Notre Dame (at a going away party at Murray Park).

Liz and Connor at Murray Park.The trailblazing begins . . .

(James, Andrea, Chris, Liz, Ruth, K.C. and Greg)

Happy Birthday Jessi!

One of my best friends, Jessi, is turning 30 today!
It's amazing to me that I'm lucky enough to have friends like this that I can say I've know for half my life. Jessi and I met, and bonded, in High School. Being so likeminded and all. Here we were, two freakishly talented women and writers who understood on a very fundamental level how important it was to celebrate your birthday for an entire month (week, minimum) before the actual day. (Note to Jessi: If you go and have not one, but TWO, kids in the week or two before your birthday, it really quashes your birthday celebrating opportunities. Worth it, of course, but be forewarned.) It's no wonder we became such fast friends (that and we were the only two sophomores on the High School newspaper). By our Senior year we had something like 6 of our 8 classes together, plus we were often staying after school (around deadline time) working on the newspaper for hours (sometimes until the janitor kicked us out.) I think there are few people on this earth I have laughed so much with, or have so many quirky shared stories (near death Zuka juice trips, the closet of fame, the Evil Morgano, getting in a car accident (miles from school) during 7th period and having to call our teacher to come pick up the newspaper (and us)). Jessi was called along as reconissance as soon as I realized there might be something with this Greg boy (she came to my Single's Ward Skate Night activity just to scout him out . . . how's that for friendship?!) Even years from then, we can talk for hours. When I worked, I used to send her long, rambly emails about all the various drama going on in my life. She'd assure me that everyone else was crazy, I was perfectly reasonable, and that I should start a blog. Jessi just got married at the end of last year, to a wonderful husband. And between them and their adorable dog Piper, she's given my family a whole 'nother family to love and be a part of.
Happy Birthday, to another great Gemini!
(P.S., there were so many cute pictures from Jessi's wedding (unfortunately I didn't have anything more recent), but I think Jessi looked the most gorgeous in this one. It's definitely not my best photograph. But really, what better defines friendship then picking the better picture of the other and posting a crappy picture of myself on my own blog. I just love her that much.) :-)


Unrelated . . . Sorry Jessi, I made your birthday post share with my kids . . .

Why Do I Even Buy Toys?

It seems my girls' favorite things didn't come from the toy section of the store.

Ellie, for example, will happily watch the washing machine for awhile. She also loves hangers. And headbands. Pill bottles. And her Dad's watch. The other day she grabbed a hairbrush and found the dryer door open. This lent itself well for her banging the brush into the sides of the dryer, or throwing the brush loudly into the dryer's drum. Only to have to half crawl in to get it back out. The kid was having the time of her life. She was laughing so hard, and loving it so much, I had to go grab the camera.

Both of my girls love spending time in the bathroom. Often together. Just laughing. I'm not actually sure what it is that's so hilarious in there, except that Annie will get into the bathtub and with Ellie trapped outside of it, the two will play peekaboo for quite awhile. (Like long enough for me to do my makeup!)

Annie's favorite 'toy' by far though is any of our cameras. She would take pictures all day if I let her. This is probably the most expensive thing she plays with, and it stresses me out (I give her our older Canon PowerShot to use, rationalizing that we're not really out anything if she ruins it), but she will happily shoot picture after picture. I have to watch these closely when I'm loading them onto my computer, as she is pretty stealthy, and has gotten some awfully embarrassing photos of various members of our family. Here is one she took of herself the other day.
Ellie's favorite thing of all right now has to be her big sister. She will laugh and giggle and squeal and mimic and do everything she can to get Annie's attention. Sure, Annie just yells, "Stop doing that!" to her in response like 70% of the time, but Ellie is a die hard fan. Annie started laughing in the car about something, and Ellie mimicked the laugh perfectly. So Annie laughed again, and Ellie tried out that laugh too. I couldn't stop laughing, it was so cute to watch Ellie try and be just like her big sister. Of course, all things with two little kids end with at least one in tears, so pretty soon Annie was sick of this game, and yelling at her sister to be quiet and "Stop making those noises Ellie!" But Ellie was still smitten with her and cooed and 'talked' to her big sister the rest of the drive home (while her sister pouted because mean Mom had taken away her toy for the rest of the drive due to her excessive scolding of her nothing-but-happy little sister.

Learning a Lesson

A few months ago I became very angry with a friend. Even to the point of wondering "Is this friendship even worth it anymore?" I was quick to judge that because of past interactions, that this latest encounter had to be all drama, no substance, and I felt like I was done dealing with it.

I thankfully didn't sever all ties, (I did write a long, rambly letter I never mailed though, thank goodness), we just didn't talk for several weeks. Then we picked things up where we left off. Our first few interactions were superficial, then slowly we warmed back into our friendship. Then the bomb dropped. My friend's life was falling apart. She was hurting in ways I couldn't even comprehend, even in a worse case scenario kind of way. And I hadn't been there for her. I assumed the worst, I acted accordingly, and I let her down when she needed me most. I, at least, have the chance to be there for her now. No more presumptions. No more blame. Just being there. Like she always needed. It was a painful lesson that I hope I never need to relearn, because someone I care about could be left hurting in the wings while I'm refusing to swallow my pride.