Twelve Posts Crammed Into One

I'm. so. behind.

Behind in blogging, behind in reading with my kids, behind, behind, behind. Will I ever complete this race to catch up?

I'm exhausted.

I've missed so much in my absence from posting, and it's weird to me. Weird how my perspective on blogging has changed from merely being a fun outlet for mama to becoming a full fledged family journal. When I don't take the time to put pen to page (or finger to keyboard in this case) I feel a sense of urgency like I'm so worried about journaling what's going on that I'm often forgetting to enjoy what's going on.

Another nail in the busy mama's coffin.

I told myself in my negotiations at the start of the year that I would work on posting more regularly so that if, and when, this little bloggy becomes a Blurb for my kids, there will be a nice amount of fluidity and consistency to it. Unlike their scrapbooks which are in complete disarray and cover the first year of their life and then abruptly stop, this blog was for all intents and purposes supposed to be a daily look at the workings of family life here in P-town. For all intents and purposes. Somewhere along the way, between cleaning out the pantry and making my 27th trip up the stairs, my all intents and purposes went flying out my not-so-clean windows.

To make myself feel better, here's a recap of what we've been up to:

::The little babe that could became a 7-month-old love bug. I don't know how it happened, but he has morphed into a wittle man (as the kids call him) that is the center of our universe. He is smiley and rolley and chubby and dreamy. We are all completely taken by him. He has started to giggle and tonight, for the very first time, real tears rolled down his cheeks as I was delayed in getting him his dinner. He is following in the footsteps of, well, the entire family with his voracious appetite. He is 20 lbs of perfection and I can't believe his birthday is right around the corner. Kind of.



::Spence participated in his first pine wood derby and loved. every. second. Thanks to the stickler for details that his his dad, his car weighed in perfectly since daddy had brought home a chemistry scale from school to make sure they were spot on. He was so proud of his car, proud that he won 5 different races, proud that he paid homage to his favorite team, and proud that he is still skinny enough to pull his pants up to his nipples. Seriously. What is it with that boy? Belt cinched as tight as it will go, pants serving as a boy-bra, ankles clearly showing. He may struggle as a fashion plate but that kid still has a heart of gold. And the dimples? Seriously.



::Hannah is thriving! After many a battle about, well, her personality in general, I am happy to report that my oldest daughter is making huge strides in becoming likable! She has learned some tough lessons in the past few months but the results are amazing and I am so proud of her. She has matured and grown in leaps and bounds and our time together is a lot more fun. She has finally figured out how to share her adorable heart with everyone and not just a select few and it makes me so happy to see. She has been asked to join an invitation-only gymnastics team which is so exciting for her. My dreams of her becoming a ballet dancer have officially been sidelined as her hind quarters dominate the gymnastics mat. Baby. Got. Back. But it's working for her and she's loving every second of it.


::Sienna is following in Hannah's footsteps which is both good and bad. Good because she is learning her life lessons a bit quicker than Hannah but bad because she seems determined to make me work for it just as hard. She has found her voice and independence and likes to use both in complete contradiction to whatever I'm saying/doing/asking. At the same time, she continues to be the best big sister to Austin and still loves me most of all which warms my heart. She is lovable and sweet and is such a beautiful girl.

::The Rizz is the same as always. Best husband, best father, completely chill, lovin' life.

::As for me, I am pooped. I'm making a serious effort to slow down and enjoy the life we've created but I admit it's hard. My determination to have things in complete control at all times has often forced me to loose control of what's most important and I'm desperately trying to change that. I'm spending more time in the moment and less time getting to the next moment and I think everyone has noticed. I'm still being compulsively anal about random things but luckily, the kids don't know any different. My latest kick has been complete cleaning and organization of all closets and under-sink areas and I often open them up just because it makes me feel so good. The pantry is in tip top shape after today and I'm officially giving myself the weekend off. People, remember? Not things.

(Photo courtesy of Squish)

Here's to February. Here's to slowing down, posting more, and feeling the pressure less. Can't wait.

Friday Morning With Squish

Big kids at school.

Littlest kid sleeping.

The one in the middle?

Busy being silly with mom.





I need to start every morning this way.

Feeling The Love

Ladies and gents in the big blogosphere, you officially rock the house. Thanks for all the phenomenal comments. I'm thinking of having a crisis every week just so you can all build me back up again...

Onward and upward, right?

I know I shouldn't be so greedy when you all just helped so much, but here's the thing: I need your help again.

I know, sorry.

I'm teaching my little bloggy class at the end of this week and I wanted to briefly mention the path my little blog takes as it navigates the world. Whoever you are and wherever you live, would you please pop in with a comment and let me know where I'm reaching you? Whether it's a g'day mate! or a Cherri-O! or maybe even an Hola! or two, say hi, tell me a little about yourself (nothing too revealing as I'd hate for you to be blog stalked on my account) and I'll share the results with my class. (Again, nothing personal, but the jist of the blogging community at large.)

I promise this will be the last thing I ask you to do, for awhile anyway.

Happy commenting!

Fake It Till You Make It

Since this little bloggy came to be two and a half years ago, the one complaint I've heard time and time again is that blogging is fake. Fake, fake, fake with each author painting their own rosy picture of how they want others to view their life. I get that. It's true, to an extent. Each bloggy mama gets to weed through the stuff of her life and put out there what she wants to. Do I mention when my toy room is overrun with unfolded laundry? Or that it took every ounce of strength I have not to scream "BECAUSE! BECAUSE! BECAUSE!" at the top of my lungs to Sienna when she has asked me the 9 trillionth question of the day? Maybe, maybe not. It's all up to me and I love that. Me, me, me.

I've tried to be as authentic as possible in updating this lovely little essay on my life. If you peruse the archives, you'll find everything from stories of my uterus to love letters to my children to the gushiest posts about the Rizz. You'll find things that make me laugh and cry, stories that make me mad, and examples of my love of life and pure, pure joy. You'll even find of tale or two about that which makes me sad and scared, content and complete. Nothing is off limits, nothing is promised and nothing is perfect. But it's my life. The good, the bad and the very, very ugly.

Over the past few weeks, I've found myself doing some unnecessary editing. Something will happen and I find myself thinking "is this entertaining enough?" "Will people think this?" Or that? And do I care?

For example, the other day I was going to race home after visiting the Mariner caravan to say that my children won TWO of the FIVE raffles and came away with $200 worth of Mariner merch, which pretty much made my son's entire life, and then I thought "is that amazing enough? Does it separate my life from any other mommy blogger? And does that even matter?" I don't know. But it's so cool for an 8-year-old who IDOLIZES the Mariners that in it goes. Welcome to my life.

And then I wanted to mention how at the school board meeting, my husband was praised up one side and down the other by everyone at the district office, from the superintendent to the janitor and my eyes got all weepy because I was so happy that others view him as I do but I wavered for a second, thinking "does it sound like I'm bragging? Am I being too prideful?"

And then the words of the great Tina Fey came to me. In response to those who seemed determined to think ill of her, she said the following...

Suck it. Suck it. Suck it.

And my ah-ha moment began. The thing is, people are going to think whatever they want to think about me regardless of what I do. I can continue to try to be all things to all people or I can relish the skin I'm in and say in my loud booming voice THIS IS ME. TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT. I know full well what I write here, in my own personal forum, where I get to be authentically me and say whatever I please is not for everyone. And I'm okay with that. The question is, are you?

My character has recently been called into question and I've found myself juggling a million different emotions. I have laughed and cried, gotten angry and then felt sad but most importantly, I took a minute to examine who I am and you know what I found out?

I like her.

Are there things to work on? You better believe it. Do I have a lot to learn? Um, yeah. But am I doing my best and taking everything I can from the journey I've had so far? You betcha.

There are some blogs that I read regularly and I note that they have a very concrete feel to them. The stories may be different each day but the message is the same and the feeling I get from them constant. I love that. They are safe little places I can go to learn something new and yet feel completely at ease because it's all so familiar. My blog? I don't think so. I think most people turn up to see what in the world I'll say today. Will I mention my wombats? Will I praise my husband? Will I ache for my kids as they hold my entire heart in their tiny little hands? The emotions run high here and chaos is a common theme, but you are welcome to come see the goings on. Come to laugh, come to feel validated, come to see the parallels to your own life. This story is mine and I plan to continue to write it.

I guess what it comes down to is this: I am better at being me than anyone else. Nobody does me like I do and that's the best part. The learning, the growing, the figuring it all out. It's a journey and one that I am loving every second of. I have much to learn, of that I am sure, but please let me learn it.

As I have felt the emotions that come with being under attack, I have concluded one very important thing: as long as the man beside me and the kids below me are proud to stand at my side, I can handle anything. If lightning doesn't strike and I'm given another day to learn more, I will be grateful for the opportunity and continue on my merry way.

And it is merry, this life of mine. It is noisy and loud and chaotic and challenging and exhausting and joyful and full of love and perfect because it is mine. Thank goodness it's mine.

Sweet Dreams

Ever since Santa gifted me with a memory foam topper for my bed and matching pillows, sleep has been a whole new ballgame for me. The wombats are finally resting comfortably and I am getting ache-free sleep. It is glorious. It has also taken my dreams to the next step and the things my little brain is coming up with while I slumber are full on biz.arre.

*First there was the dream where I was visiting a dear friend and it was time to hop in the shower. In my wacky little brain, showers were housed in refrigerators and I was used to climbing into a side-by-side to clean all the nooks and crannies. But this fridge was one of those newfangled ones with the freezer on the bottom and I was so distraught at trying to squeeze my body onto the shelves. I had to empty the fridge out completely and then arrange my tookus in a manner that would actually allow me to get clean. And sitting down? On glass shelves? Neked? So disturbing.

*A few nights later I dreamed that Dandee and I were having a Wii tournament and we got into a huge row because we were fighting over the Jack Nicholson Mii because he did this fancy high kick after every turn. Um, yeah. Okay.

*Last night, after turning off our lights at 8:42 pm (which is another story in itself) I fell into a dream that consisted largely of a girlfriend's family, a unicorn, egg salad sandwiches and Meatloaf (the singer, not the food.) Nuff said.

On New Year's Eve we played a game and one of the questions was "would you rather go without dreams completely or suffer the occasional terrifying nightmare?" Because I'm a total ninny, I chose to go without dreams because nightmares freak me out but with all the fun I'm having with my crazy brain, I'd like to revise my answer.

How Sweet It Is

It's 1:49 in the afternoon.

Babe is sleeping.

Girls are on a playdate.

My house is quiet.

Should I

clean toilets?

Fold laundry?

prep dinner?

Yes.

But

instead I'll take a bath.



Tee-hee!

Are You There IUD? It's Me, Karen

This morning I had an appointment with the good doctor to get things, ahem, reproductively PUT ON HOLD. These pipes are officially closed for business and I've been oh so anxious to have things permanently taken care of. (See: my husband's delay in getting a vasectomy equals me making other plans) I've recently been sung the praises of the IUD and decided that she and I needed to be better acquainted.

Dr. T was in the hallway as I rounded the corner and our relationship picked up where we last left off.

"Watch out for that one," he called to his nurse, "she's feisty."

I had sweet Austin with me (see: horrible, stupid, ridiculous idea) and was trying to balance him and all his stuff as I got down the reason for my appointment.

"I thought Brad was going in for a vasectomy?" the good doctor asked.

"You know how boys are about their junk" I replied.

"You know what I would love?" the good doctor said in between his laughter. "I would love a little miniature Karen doll that I could just pull a string on and one of your crazy comments would come out of it's mouth. I think it'd be a huge hit with my patients."

"I'll look into that for you" I said.

I read through the paperwork, stiffened at some of the side effects (severe cramping for up to 6 months? migraine headaches? unprovoked hormonal swings? Sounds peachy.) and signed the appropriate paperwork. I had hoped that Austin would be sound asleep by now but he was not. He had pooped, again, and I was without a diaper so he sang and squawked and sang some more.

And you know how fun it is to sit in a cold room with a napkin over your lap trying to hide your unmentionables? Well, it's even more fun sitting in a cold room with a napkin over your lap trying to hide your unmentionables AND wrestling a 6-month-old who currently outweighs Gary Coleman.

By the time we finally got started, I was drenched in sweat and cursing the vasectomy god's. Holding your baby while your feet are in the stirrups does not make for good times. Thankfully, the good doctor was swift and me and Mr. Coleman were out of there.

As soon as I reached the car I called my dear friend and begged her to come and babysit me since the cramping! oh the cramping! is unbearable. She offered to come to my rescue with Dr. Pepper and Salt & Vinegar chips in hand. Such a good, good friend.

I just may survive after all.

Lfest 2008

I was all set to sit down and write a post chronicling our pre-Christmas activities, including the raucous gathering of the Lfester's and their families (6 extra adults, 4 extra kids) and tell tales of harrowing car rides, men playing XBox and Settler's round the clock, cookie decorating with 8 kids 8 and under and a ton of yummy food and laughter but my husband just informed me that he accidentally deleted all the pictures off our camera and off the hardrive and now I'm heartbroken and don't really want to. (This also includes all picutres snapped from December 19th through yesterday but I'm trying not to think about it.) I so carefully documented our good times, thinking of the posting I would do, making sure to get people from their best angles and only be in pictures that were shot from the neck up, all to have them disappear into the cyber netherworlds. So, so sad. Lfester's (that's my new name for you three BTW) please email me pictures so that my posterity will know that once again we lived like queens and partied like rock stars. Rock stars with saggy parts and bags under their eyes, by rock stars nonetheless.

I miss the noise already and can't wait to see you all on my doorstep again. Loves to you. Oh, and Edward saves Bella so put the books down already...

Losing The Rizz To A Vampire

In the car today on the way home from running errands...

"Call Tharker and see if we can come get book 3 from her" my husband says.

"Seriously?" I say.

"If she doesn't have it, we'll have to stop and buy it."

"Seriously?" I say.

That would be book 3 in the TWILIGHT series people, a series written for 12-old-girls and not 34-year-old men. A series that I haven't even finished yet, because, well, I haven't. A series that has also captivated two of my very best, very non-Mormon friends, one of whom teaches English lit and has read everything under the sun.

Tharker didn't have the book because she appropriately loaned it out to some 12-year-old girl and we didn't stop at the store even though Brad said "we should really just buy the whole series."

Seriously.

So, if anyone has a copy of the book that they can lend to my pre-pubescent husband, that would be great. I will happily send him over on his 10-speed to pick it up after chores.

Welcome 2009

This year I plan to:

:make more time for myself
:continue my commitment to health
:enjoy every second of Austin's life as the final babe in our home
:spend more time nurturing Hannah instead of correcting her
:date my husband much more frequently
:mold Spence into a young man of character
:record the stories of Sienna
:love the skin I'm in and all it does for me
:be a more polished version of myself

Can't wait to see what the year brings...