Pajama Day

Since today was supposed to be Pajama Day at preschool, it seems only fitting that both of my little girls each wore no less than three separate pair of pajamas throughout the day. Although, poor Annie didn't even get to attend Pajama Day due to being a gross ever-flowing faucet of snot.

Yesterday morning Annie woke up around 7:30, found me in my room folding clothes, and curled up on my lap and conked out again until 9:30AM (I had laid her back down at some point). This is so far from normal sleeping behavior from my child that I wasn't too surprised when I felt her forehead that morning and found her burning up. But, of course, once she got up and going, she was fine and I was the bad guy all day for not letting her go to a friend's house. Fortunately though, her and Ellie both seemed relatively fine all day, except for some gross gunky noses. Then this morning when Annie woke up, she was still oozing green snot, and I informed her she was too sick to attend her preschool's Pajama Day. She seemed cool with that, changing into her 'favorite' pair anyway, and telling me we would "just have preschool at home today." Ellie, on the other hand, seemed to have taken a bit of a turn for the worst, as her nose was running more profusely than the day before, she seemed more tired, and her eyes were watering and red. After breakfast (where she'd slimed her pajamas with snot and applesauce) I ended up just changing her into another pair of pajamas. Which she later threw up in and was changed yet again. Into a third pair of pajamas. I had a meeting tonight, and my wonderful husband got the girls down for bed solo tonight; but after I got home, as I stared at the pizza covered pajamas both girls had been wearing when I left that were tossed on top of a pile of dirty clothes, I was hit with the thought, "So this is why I do so much laundry . . . "
(And that was before I even remembered the sheets, blankets, doll and pillow that had to be washed on 'Sanitize' mode after Ellie threw up on them during her nap.)

(Oh, and Kirstin, props to you for remembering the zoo's old 'wax figure generating machines'! I had totally forgotten about those! It's now bringing a flood of zoo memories to me . . . specifically that whole 'things that have been pulled out of the hippo's water' display that had one of those wax camels in it!)

Saturday at the Zoo

We're quickly closing in on the expiration of our annual zoo pass. We'll get another one sooner or later, but we tend to take a few months off before we renew, just to take a break. But, for now, we're trying to squeeze a few more zoo trips in before the end of October. Most recently, we headed out on Saturday afternoon. We dragged along Aunt Talina and Uncle David again, and we were all excited to see all the baby animals and to enjoy the unbelievably perfect weather.

The girls were enthralled by the baby giraffe and the teeny tiny elephant (admittedly, we were all fairly smitten by the adorable antics of the youngest zoo animals . . . there was a giant crowd-wide sigh of, "Awwwww," when the little elephant rolled over on the ball and landed flat on the ground. I took like a minute of video of the baby trying to get back on its feet . . . which goes to show you the power and draw of 'adorable baby animal', as I am someone who typically does not take pictures or video of scenery, the sights or of objects unless one of my kids in planted firmly in front of such a thing.)

Elllie loved the elephant and the giraffe, but I still think meerkats rank as her favorite. Or that little 'arabian wild cat' that was pacing back and forth along the glass of it's cage, as Ellie followed it, either with her eyes or sometimes her whole body. The whole reptile/small mammal house is by far the feature attraction of the zoo for our one year old. I had a whole slew of 'Ellie with her face smashed up against the glass' pictures . . . she would kneel, bend, reach, get up on her tip toes, just about anything to get the view she wanted. . . here are a few of the shots . . .Annie pretty excited about a pair of small tortoises.

Ellie trying to get her Dad's attention on something that is actually important, and not on the camera.

Greg, Ellie and me.
I noticed in this picture how Ellie's eyes seem to be pretty much a perfect mix of mine and Greg's eye colors . . . not as light as Greg's, but not as dark as mine. We still have not been able to determine what 'color' they actually are though . . . we're kinda sticking with 'hazel' for now, since it best encompasses Ellie's "what would you call that color?!" color.

My sister Talina and me. (I also refer to her as my mini-me . . . she's my clone, but like 30% smaller . . . she's shorter, thinner and her head is much tinier than mine. She's like a perfect replica, just in miniature.)

Uncle David and Annie (in her cute Halloween shirt).

Aunt Talina and disinterested Ellie.

Mommy and Ellie.

Ellie just standing around. In Dad's hands.

Ellie very excited at the zoo. "You mean they have wood chips here too?!"

My children measuring up to orangutans.

We were about to pass this on our way out of the zoo, when Annie suddenly stopped and shouted, "Mom! We need our pictures taken here too!" She cried on our way out that we hadn't stopped by the lion's head drinking fountain to get a drink and pictures there too. She's well trained.

Loserish Update

So, a few of you possibly noticed (and mentioned) that I made no mention of last week's "Biggest Loser Family Edition" results. Um, yeah.

I may or may not have weighed in at exactly what I started this contest at last month. This may or may not have had anything to do with a steady diet of M&Ms. My sister Lacy may be rubbing in her nearly 10 lb. weight loss with reckless abandon, and threatening to eat off of no fewer than 3 plates at Thanksgiving.

Let's never speak of this again.
(Unless I do better this week, of course!)

Another Milestone

Annie loves preschool. Everything about it. And then to go and top it off, preschool has field trips. The only thing cooler than going to preschool, is apparently going with your preschool teacher and class to a pumpkin patch, complete with a corn maze, barn animals and inflatables. And your very own pumpkin to take home. I'm a huge fan of the whole idea of a preschool field trip too, 'cause Greg and I got to be chaperones, and therefore got in free, and Ellie only cost a dollar with the preschool discount. It was like the cheapest afternoon out I could've imagined, and so much fun. Top it off, several of Annie's (and my) best friends were there too!

So, of course we brought along the camera, to document Annie's (and Ellie's, I guess) first ever field trip.

Here are my girls together in one of those 'holes cut out to stick your head through for a photo op' things. Um, what are those called?

Off topic, but have I mentioned how incredibly chummy they've become. They are like the best of friends and laugh and giggle and hug and roll around and race and play and chase and tickle each other for huge portion of the day, and nothing I have ever seen in my life brings a smile to my face any faster. It is wonderful. Especially since it means they're fighting a lot less (and Annie's getting remarkably skilled at deflecting Ellie's tantrums . . . she distracts or talks down her irate little sister most of the time without any intervention on my part . . . it's amazing), and playing pretty independently for hours a day. I have felt like I've had more time to myself and less stress and it's been wonderful. I've had no less than five or six random comments from strangers in the past four days about how adorable they are together, and what an amazing big sister Annie is. And they hug each other constantly. Melts my heart.
Let's hope it's not just a phase.
Although, my parenting philosophy basically states: Everything is a phase. Good or bad, it's a phase.
Darn it.

Annie with one of her closest little friends, Sarajayne (and her sister Kate). Something about little kids holding hands is inherently adorable.

Sarajayne, Annie and Kian. All three of these kids live with in easy walking distance of one another, go to the same preschool, same Church nursery and have Mom's that are friends and get together regularly. These kids are like permanent fixtures in our home, and we wouldn't have it any other way!

Sarajayne and Annie.

Ellie helping Daddy navigate the corn maze.

Ellie and Annie, the Friendly Ghosts.

Ellie and her new best friend, the goat. She stood there talking to him for awhile. Which mildly freaked me out, as I'm convinced goats are evil (have you seen there spooky eyes?! Gives me the chills just thinkin' about them!), and I'm just hoping Ellie doesn't actually know how to communicate with such creatures.

Ellie in the tunnel. That she seconds later freaked out in, refused to leave on her own, and Greg had to go in after her. This is why I want to bring my husband on every field trip.

Sarajayne & Annie in the Pumpkin house. They had a lot of fun playing in all the cute buildings that were set up.

Annie in another of the tunnels.

Annie and some of her friends on the inflatable slide. Which was the worst slide in human history, as the kids basically had to 'scoot' down it, since it was so underinflated that they couldn't get any speed up going down it. Oh well, nobody gets hurt that way!

Anyway, point of the whole story: field trips are awesome, and we are looking forward to many more in the future!

Farewell

Grandpa Ken was laid to rest yesterday, after a wonderful funeral that made me tear up, laugh out loud and feel like I got to learn a few new things about Greg's sweet Grandfather. What a wonderful man. He was loved by his family, friends and community. He was honored and revered by veterans and colleagues and associates. He was truly admirable in every sense of the word. We have been so lucky to have him in our lives.

We will miss him, but again, we are so happy for him to no longer be in pain. To not be weak and blind and without his most cherished sweetheart. We are overjoyed that he has been reunited with his parents, especially his dear Mother he had waited his entire life to get to know, as well as siblings, friends, a grandson and great granddaughter who I'm sure were there to greet him. Annie has been so interesting to watch go through this. She had talked a lot this week about Heaven. How babies who haven't been born yet, and people who got old and aren't alive anymore are all there together. And they're happy. On our way to the funeral yesterday morning, Ellie was back in her carseat when she suddenly just started to say, "Grandpa, Grandpa, Grandpa," over and over again. Annie, in her sweet 'teacher' voice, told her sister, "No Ellie. Grandpa won't be there anymore. He's up in heaven with Jesus. [pause] Oh, unless you're talking about one of our other Grandpas, they might be there!" It made Greg and I both laugh out loud.

There has been peace, and in some small way, even joy at Grandpa's passing onto something better. But. There is definitely a feeling of loss. He's not here with us anymore. We'll miss him. We know he's better off, but at the same time, from a truly selfish standpoint, it's hard not to think of what we're missing out on by him not being here to tell stories, to get to know our children, to be the head of the household at the annual Christmas Party. It has been a long, emotionally draining week. Especially for my dear husband, who looks up to and admires his grandfather so greatly and has a life time of memories with him. His mourning obviously took more of a toll on him than on me. After the funeral, graveside dedication and luncheon, we came home and were all just wiped out. We were basically physically and emotionally exhausted. Greg took a nap on the drive home, then came in the door and crashed on the front couch for another couple hours. (My physical exhaustion came mainly from trying to keep an active and overly tired one year old quiet and calm when we were seated front and center at the funeral services. Literally, front row, dead center of a filled chapel. And Ellie was wired. It made for an interesting experience.) My Mom stopped by, right after Greg had woken up. Upon seeing him, she commented, "You look really tired Greg."
Annie, hearing this, whispered to my Mom, "No Grandma. I think he just misses his Grandpa."

The experience of coming altogether during a time of mourning is so obviously beneficial. Greg, especially, seemed to benefit so much from being surrounded by people who loved and remembered and felt the same way he did. And, although it might sound odd, the day of the viewing and the funeral were, well, fun. We all really enjoyed visiting and laughing with friends and family we don't see as often as we'd like to. Greg's younger brother, Chris, was even able to fly in for the family events. Seeing Greg standing in a circle at the viewing, just talking and laughing with all three of his siblings, was about the greatest thing I could have asked for for him during this time. Annie and Ellie played and squealed with second cousins and Uncles all throughout the luncheon after the funeral.

I only had my camera out sporadically, so my 'coverage' of all the family events is a little sparse. There were several other cameras going though, most much better than mine, so I'm excited for when those CDs get passed around the family. I did not get any pictures of the amazingly moving military salute. Hearing "Taps" played off in the distance by an amazing trumpeter was by far one of the most emotional moments of the day. Seeing the military personnel honor Grandpa and his service, and then his family, was touching in a way few things can be.

I didn't catch everything I wanted to on camera, what with a wild one year old trying to hop from headstone to headstone, all the while trying to pick flowers out of the graveside vases, but here's a sampling of what I did get:

Here's Ellie before the graveside service began, in front of Grandpa's beautifully covered coffin.

Greg's father being presented that same flag after the military salute. Honestly, my eyes just teared up looking at this picture again.

Annie at the graveside.

Greg's mother, and brother Chris. And no, that's not like a trick of perspective or anything. Chris just really is that much taller than everyone else.

Greg's father, Uncle and Andrea (Greg's sister) talking about the flag.

One of Ellie's graveside meltdowns. Did I mention at this point we were about 2 hours past nap time? And that she wouldn't actually get a nap for another two hours after this?
Oh, and the front of her dress is covered in Nila Wafers . . . it's the only thing that kept her quiet during the funeral. But Greg's suit now needs to be cleaned again.

Me trying to calm Ellie down. Still not overly happy.

Chris at the graveside.

Afterwards, we headed to the luncheon. Here's Ellie trying to feed herself jello. This only added to the mess that was the front of her dress.

Annie cuddling with her Daddy. She was also 'hiding' from Uncle James, who'd been chasing and tickling her. She'd run around squealing for awhile, then dive back into Daddy's arms anytime James got too close.

Uncle James with Ellie.

Annie had the time of her life running from Uncle James, squealing for her to Dad to, "Rescue to the rescue!" during a large portion of the luncheon.

Goodbye Grandpa. We love you.

You have quite the family here. I'm lucky to have been able to join it.

Grandpa

I recently wrote about Greg's Grandpa.

He peacefully passed away this morning, just shy of his 92nd birthday.

I will miss him and I know his family will have a hole in their hearts and lives because of his absence.

But. I am happy for him. His body was weak and he was imprisoned in a body and a mind that were fading. He had a wife who died over ten years ago that he missed immensely. He has talked to me on several occasions about how excited he was to see her again one day. He had never known his mother, as she died when he was young. He once told me he could not wait to meet her.

I feel our loss, but I imagine the reunions that took place this morning as he left this life. He is in the arms of his sweetheart, his mother and his family that went before him. He is happy. He is whole; thoughts, memories and facts no longer eluding him. He can see. Oh, how wonderful it must be to have your vision open to you again, after years of blindness. He is where he's wanted to be for so long. He is where he is supposed to be.

I wrote in an email to a family member this morning that sums up how I feel about Grandpa's passing:

I hope and pray that when it's our time, we will all be as ready to move on as Grandpa was . . . being able to look back on a life well lived, a family well loved, and a faith in all the wonders that lie ahead of us.

We will miss you Grandpa.

(My sister in law Liz wrote a wonderful tribute to him as well. Us granddaughter-in-laws were quite smitten with him.)


The video from Fox 13, less than two weeks ago:

Water Baby

Both of my girls love the water -- as long as it doesn't threaten their hair, face or ears.
Ellie had the best time in the tub this morning, and was laughing so hard I had to get the camera out. Which, of course, meant she stopped her over-the-top-I'm-so-excited-I'm-squealing-in-a-high-pitched-manner faces and just smiled normally for the photos. Y'all should've seen her crazed giddiness though, it was awesome.

These pictures, at least, show she was happy . . .

Sleep Nazi

It's past bedtime. Annie's supposed to be sleeping. Yet, I hear the following called out loudly from the other room, as Annie 'talks to herself', "I sure hope Mom will be happy to see me when I come in her room to tell her about Ariel's sisters and how their names all start with A's. [pause] I hope my Mommy will be happy to see me and hear about Ariel . . ." I can hear her approaching my room slowly. I call out in response to 'overhearing' her not-so-internal monologue, "Annie, don't even try it. You are in bed for the night, you can tell me in the morning."

Sobs, wailing, tears. "My Mommy doesn't love me and doesn't want to hear about Ariel or even see me!" But I do not bend. I never falter. It's bedtime, so I callously call out responses to all her various complaints, "You already had dinner, you can eat in the morning," or "Dad already tucked you in with all your blankets . . . if they came off, you put them back on," or "You don't really have to go potty, you just went," and "If you have a snotty nose, go blow it and get right back into bed." (This last one is tricky -- she's trying to lure you into her room . . . which is a greater 'prize' then getting to leave it for a minute by herself. Usually when I tell her to go ahead and get a tissue, she doesn't even attempt leaving her room, as her real motive was to drag us back in there . . . )

Even now I can still hear her in her room, "I'm still really sad because my Mom doesn't want to see me, and my Belle needs her blankie and my Mom won't wrap it around her, and I need a tissue. [Sobs. Pauses. Starts sobbing again.] I'm still sad, because my Princess blankie isn't on! And I don't think my Mom even wants me to tell her about Ariel!"

I'm telling you, I'm heartless and hardcore. Once bedtime has come and we've brushed teeth, read books, said prayers, wiped noses, gone potty, gotten drinks and all that . . . I'm done. I seldom 'break'. No matter the amount of crying and whining, I ignore it, or casually call out something cruel like, "You've already brushed your teeth Annie, I don't want to hear about how they feel dirty . . ." Which causes banshee-like shrieking on her part.

Greg though . . . he's much more of a push over. :-) He falls for all of it way more often then I do. (My weakness: illnesses. I'm a sucker for letting my kids get away with anything if they're sick. But normal bedtimes, I'm as cruel as they get. Just ask Annie. She's in her room talking about her 'mean Mom' as I type this.)

I Get by With a Little Help From my Friends

Ellie wouldn't let me take her out of her bed after her nap without her pillow, blanket, Rar and Moose. No man left behind.

Death to Naps

Annie gets a lot of press here on this blog about her complete dislike and distrust of all things 'sleep'. But, it would be unfortunate to forget that her little sister apparently inherited the same 'sleep = death' gene . . .

I put Ellie down for her nap today. She fought it, of course. She's fighting all her naps now. We've even had a few days lately where she blew off her nap entirely, choosing to spend the time in her crib just chattering and fussing for nearly two hours. Today, after about 40 minutes, it was finally quiet in her room, so I peeked in. To find her fast asleep . . . pantless, and propped up on a pile of blankets she'd apparently finally conked out on. She was sitting up, and had taken off her own pants.

Now there's a kid who was trying very hard not to fall asleep. Fortunately, she's only 17 months old, so sometimes sleep wins these battles.

I fear for when she's two though . . . that's when Annie learned she could resist sleep by taking off her diaper and pooping in her crib . . .

(Look at all her hair! It's really started to thicken up! Yesterday someone mistook her for a whole 10 months old . . that's progress!)

Attack of the Killer Bee

I've been trying to explain 'dreams' to Annie for the last week or so. She typically looks at me, a mix of mild confusion and incredulousness, and then changes the subject.
Last night she joined Greg and I in bed around 4:30 in the morning, mildly freaked out. When she woke up, perfectly bubbly and happy, she started to recount a story, "So, Daddy came into my room, and there was a bee!" Apparently, this bee had a grudge (only against Greg though) and was after her poor Daddy. We tried explaining this was all a dream, and there was no bee in her room, and Daddy was safe. She seemed uncertain though. As Greg left the room to go downstairs to make Saturday morning waffles (see why I love him so much?!), Annie called after him, "Daddy! If any bees come to get you, come back and get me!" She's got his back.

Even after further explanation, she doesn't quite buy this whole 'dream' explanation though.


Completely unrelated, but does anyone else wanna slap Joe DuBois on Medium from time to time? I don't watch the show often, but it seems like he constantly finds his wife's latest vision absolutely unbelievable and starts coming up with a dozen reasons this vision could be wrong. Um, she's like always right. After how many years do you just break down and buy it already?!
OK, rant over.

Happy Halloween

I know, I know, it's cheesy . . . but Annie has watched it about 7 billion times, and would love to share it with all the world . . .

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

(And yes, Annie is in there twice . . . I think that's her favorite part!)

I think the only thing Annie loved more than watching her own "Monster Mash" video was watching her cousin Connor's video!

Then we did my siblings:

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This is VERY addicting!

Biggest Loser Update

So, week two of our family Biggest Loser Competition has (thankfully) come to an end.

Um, yeah . . . it didn't go so well. I'm up. But just a little teeny bit, and still under where I started the competition. I'm blaming the fact my kitchen is torn apart and I avoid the construction areas of the home at all costs, so we've been seeing a little too much of our good friend Little Caesar this week. And it doesn't help that, as previously mentioned, my main stress coping techniques basically consist of eating M&Ms.

I'm starting to get the feeling that I may not be the one lounging and mocking during the dishwashing after Thanksgiving dinner. But, none of my siblings should get too overconfident yet, as I'm not out of the running . . . and since I have not yet received a single gloating text or phone call, and not even an update, I'm thinking nobody is too 'on fire'.

This competition isn't over yet . . . I went to the store tonight and just totally restocked my produce drawer with a ton of fresh veggies and fruits (um, and bought some mini M&Ms, crap! It's an addiction.)


Oh, and unrelated to my horribly poor showing at the contest, Fox 13 finally broadcast that story about Greg's Grandpa. That's my cute little family there in the beginning . . .

http://www.fox13now.com/videobeta/watch/?watch=93e18a3a-9bd4-4575-9f1a-f8c82a83879f

My Mother's Granddaughter

I know this'll come as no shock to anyone who has kids (or has ever met any kids) . . . but they can act awfully different around others than they do around their parents. Greg and I will actually be making plans for later in the evening than the girls usually stay up, and when one of us voices concerns about the sheer craziness and off the charts grumpiness that hits after 7PM, the other will remind, "It won't be a problem, other people will be around." And true to form, our daughters hold it together an hour or two later than they'd ever dream of being civil for at home.

The biggest discrepency I see is Annie around me (and only me) vs. Annie around my Mom. It's like two completely different children. One easily set off and quick to snap, the other a picture of perfect preschooler intent on learning new stuff and saying adorable things.

My daughter: Basically now refuses to acknowledge that there is a set standard how the rest of the English speaking world forms their letters . . . and definitely will not actually attempt to write any such letters.
My mother's grandchild: Comes home with worksheets filled with practiced letter formation. She proudly shows off her page of F's to anyone who'll give her a second glance.

My daughter: We'll be reading a book, and if I dare stop on a simple word and ask her what the first sound is, she'll dramatically throw the book down and storm off while yelling, "I don't want to sound stuff!"
My mother's grandchild: Grandma will proudly look up from a book they're looking at together and exclaim, "That's like the twentieth word she's sounded out all by herself . . . she's reading these so well we're going to move on to sight words next week!"

My daugther: Turns her nose up at new foods, and even some old reliables . . .
My mother's grandchild: Comes home practically dyed pink from eating numerous raw tomatoes out of Grandma's garden all afternoon. Apparently eating them just like they were apples. And for lunch had a giant serving of brocolli with her noodles.

My daughter: Gets so grumpy in the afternoon (although refuses to nap, no matter what we've tried) that we're all either walking on eggshells or pulling out our hair in frustration with her sheer unreasonableness.
My mother's grandchild: "She was perfect! Everyone thought she was so charming!"

My daughter: Yells at her sister, "Ellie, STOP looking at me! Be nice! I'm not going to play with you NEVER again!"
My mother's grandchid: "Oh, my little dear, are you okay? Oh, come here my sweet little dear . . ." as Grandma coos, "Oh, she is so sweet with her little sister . . ."

My daughter: "Annie, how did preschool go?" "Fine." "What did you do?" "Nothing." "Did you have fun?" "Yeah."
My mother's grandchild, "Hey Grandma! I went to preschool today and we learned about apples, and the letter A, and the color red, and I learned a new song . . . do you want to hear it?"

Moral to the story: I'm sending Annie to live with my parents when she's a preteen.

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?

Biggest Loser Update

Weigh-in isn't until Wednesday, but I'm already dreading it.

Until this weekend, I was feeling pretty good about things. I was even down almost another pound in only three days. Then it was Conference weekend. Which in my awesome families means lots of good food. Including, but not limited to, amazing garlic bread from Costco, root beer floats, birthday cake, absolutely horrifyingly-bad-for-you-but-so-tasty breakfasts, and more ice cream later on that day accompanying late night card games.

Add to that Ellie is still in a phase we have aptly named: Crazy. (Mixed with a side of Refusing to Sleep). Annie is three, therefore being obstinate. And a wrecking crew came today and poked holes in my ceilings, ripped out carpet pad and demolished my kitchen floor. And I now feel like I'm living inside a hurricane, what with all the fans and dehumidifiers running loudly throughout my house. I have to keep reminding myself not to shout into the phone when I'm having conversations with people not actually inside the wind tunnel. I'm trying to keep my children confined to parts of the house that are not being sucked and blown dry by large expensive equipment, or where floors are not torn up and exposing tack strips and bare, wet wood. They're getting a bit pissed about this. And bored. Did I mention our playroom is one of the rooms most affected?

I'm a tad stressed (although still focusing on the new kitchen floor I'll get out of this whole deal . . . and not the $500 deductible I'm trying hard to forget writing the check for earlier today). And I self medicate with M&Ms. This will not be a good weigh-in this week.

Construction Zone

So, my flood zone of a house is starting the long road to recovery. My kitchen floor is half ripped up, carpets pads ripped out downstairs, and high powered fans going blasting my house.

This is gonna be a pain in the butt to get back together, isn't it? On the plus side, I get to pick out new kitchen flooring! (Although, I liked my kitchen floor, and it was only a few years old, so it was one of the last places I would have redone in our house. But I'm trying to find the bright side here.)

The hardest part: the bored kiddos. They can't play downstairs in the playroom, and I have to keep an eye out everywhere else they normally play 'cause there is expensive humidity control equipment and fans going throughout our house. And I can't seem to talk them into just hanging out in my room all day.

Shrimpy McBaby & The (Unrelated) Bad Day

So, our day was a lot of fun. We always spend General Conference Sunday morning at Greg's parents house where an amazing breakfast is prepared and enjoyed, then we watch the first session of the day together. The kids are more entertained than they are at our own home, what with Grandparents and a variety of not-our-everyday toys. So, I actually get to listen to the speakers more than when we're home by ourselves with the crazy kids for Saturday's sessions.

Then we head to my Aunt Judy & Uncle Jerry's house, where we have a BBQ followed by a birthday celebration for my cousin Makayla. (Happy 21st Birthday Kayla!) Then we (attempt) to watch the second session as a large extended family (while eating cake), but usually end up needing to rewatch it on DVR later that evening.

These are tried and true family traditions, and I love them. I'm lucky to have so much family so close by to go and visit.

That was all great. But then we got home.

Only to find that several of our basement walls are seeping water, and the whole place smells like mildew, the carpets are drenched in two rooms, and we don't know when the leaking even started (we have since found the culprit though -- stupid ice maker hose sprang a leak, apparently sometime this week, and has been shooting water down through the wall into our basement ever since.) With our busy weekend, we haven't been downstairs in days, so didn't notice the problem 'til it had become a bit out of hand. We now have ceilings in two rooms, walls, molding, as well as a door frame, that need to be repaired (have I ever told y'all how much I hate painting. Sigh.) And we don't know what the damage is to the floor. My Dad and Greg took the wet vacs to it, then ripped it up and got fans on it, but we won't know what the full extent is 'til the insurance company comes and takes a look. When we get to find out how much this'll cost us, and debate amongst ourselves whether it's worth it to file a claim. And start figuring out where we want to pull money from. As Greg put it, "This is definitely the downside of homeownership."

I was so frustrated, and so upset by our torn apart basement that I was near tears and, honestly, starting to feel a little too much self-pity. I started to think about what a crappy month I'd had all the while trying to calculate the cost of sheetrock, and I have to admit, I was feeling a little sorry for myself. Earlier fun, enlightening, amusing, profound and touching moments from the day were weighed down by the dripping, stinky carpets pads in the basement. My basement is ripped apart and unusable for the kids. And my whole house kinda reeks now that we've put all the fans my parents own on full blast in our basement, circulating the rank air. I also had two fussy kids, apparently very miffed by their parents ignoring them while we hurridely tried to move everything out of the spare bedroom in the basement to the corner where it wouldn't get ruined. Meaning they were getting pissed and loudly letting us know. I was getting really emotionaly worked up.

Then, I decided to snap out of it. Seriously. It's just some water. Right now some smelly, costly water, but just water nonetheless. Nobody was hurt, not that much damage had been done, and our lives haven't really been affected. It's all repairable. The rest of our house, the parts we use the most, are perfectly livable.

So what, it was a bad day. But really, only the last couple hours of it. I'd had a great time for the majority of the day, and that should count for something. And most importantly, my family is healthy, happy and together. And at least we have a home. A mildly stinky one right now, but a home nonetheless. Sure, this'll be an unexpected and unwanted additional expense, but we are blessed with the means to scrap together the money and take care of it without it being a major financial disaster in our lives.

On the bright side, this is totally gonna force me to clean out that basement spare bedroom. And our carpets will get cleaned. Hey, we may even get new carpet out of this. While quickly chucking boxes into the corner of the room, away from the spreading wet puddle, I found a case of wipes down there! That's worth like fifteen bucks!

See, things aren't really that bad. :-)

And this all reminded me (in a roundabout way), that Ellie is freakishly teeny tiny. See, the spare bedroom houses all the totes full of 'clothing my children don't currently wear'. Which, is something I've been meaning to get downstairs and check out (would've been nice if I'd done this a few days ago when I'd been thinking about it, I may have caught the leak before it had done so much damage. Procrastination - 1, Hilary - 0.) Anyway, we don't have much that fits Ellie and is appropriate for the sudden and freakish cold weather. So today I dragged out some warmer clothes and sweaters that'll fit her from our flooded room. From the SIX TO NINE MONTH tote I put away LAST YEAR. That's right, my nearly 17 month old is wearing the same winter clothes she wore last year. The same stuff she started wearing at six months old. Most of them fit her really well, which isn't too surprising, as she is barely tipping the scales at 19 lbs, and most 6-9 month stuff is for up to 20 or 21 pounds. (She wore a 3-6 month dress to Church last Sunday . . . it still fits her so cute!) This shouldn't be too odd to me, as Annie totally wore the same stuff for a whole year at this age too, but it's still just weird to get out baby clothes I packed away last year for the same baby!

Later, right before bed, both kids decided to be freakishly cute. As if just willing me to forget all my troubles and just bask in the adorableness of my children. Not too much in life can't be wrong when you have a one year old propelling herself around the room on a tricycle way too big for her, all while wearing no pants:



Annie showing off her mad scootering skills:


She's such a little scooter dare devil :-)

Ellie riding the tricycle, Annie cheesing it up in the background trying to get into the picture. I have no idea where this kid gets that from :-)

My girls dancing and singing together:

First Thing Tomorrow

I need to get to the store.

I learned this weekend I was (tragically) out of Listerine. Forcing me to use a much gentler Crest Pro Health mouthwash.

It just isn't the same.

How do you know it's working if it doesn't taste like burning? I need me a little sting and horrific medicinal taste to convince me my mouth is really clean, and anything nasty is dead. My mouth feels dirty.

A Letter to My Sister Star

Dear Star,

You know I love you like a sister.

But lately, you have been slacking. I don't want to say you've let me down . . . but, dude, you've let me down. Case in point: my eyebrows have grown quite unruly. I believe everyone in the family acknowledges your role as our personal eyebrow groomer. Only you are patient enough to do the job right, what with your meticulousness and sadistic streak. A certain amount of responsibility comes with that, Star. You can't just let your sisters walk around looking so unkempt.

There is still time to set things right. My eyebrows have not yet actually grown together into an unholy unibrow.

I know you'll do the right thing.

Love,
Your (unruly) Sister,
Hilary