Surprise

When I was growing up, I hated not knowing what my Christmas presents were. 

I searched every where for where my mom had hidden them.  Felt every corner.  Shook every box. 

**Cade & Jackson, don't read this part

(even carefully opened up one corner of the present, peeked, and then pushed the tape back down)

These past couple of Christmases, I have known what every single one of my presents would be. 

And it hasn't been that fun.

I was really looking forward to being surprised this year. 

Went to the post office today.

Aaron's gift to me was sitting there.  Not in an inconspicuous brown box.  But the box that it comes in. 

I know what I'm getting now.

Drats. 

Another Cade saying

Cade came up to me today and went, "Mommy," (sigh) "Really tired." 

I'm thinking, okay, score, this is where he tells me he wants to take a nap.

Cade: "Need fruit snacks."

**on another note.  We live right next door to where Aaron works.  I got out of the shower to find out that Cade had scaled our gate that is supposed to keep him downstairs, opened the door, and ran out to go to Dad's work.  Lovely.  I wouldn't mind so much if we didn't live in such a heavy car traffic area.  There's trucks, delivery guys, and garbage trucks driving through all the time.  I'm just not sure how to keep him in.

**except maybe stop showering. 

Fiber does what?

My mom buys some gummy fiber supplements.  The kids love them.  Every time we go to Grandma's house, they run straight for where she keeps the fiber and ask for one. 

A couple of days ago, Cade got his usual fiber and then asked for another one.

Aaron told him no.

Cade looks at him, and says very seriously, "Make poo poo come out, REALLY fast!"

Sick Sick Sick

I do not feel well today.

Bleh.

I haven't felt well since Monday, took it easy that day, and woke up on Tuesday feeling okay.  I did all my normal stuff and my body now hates me today.

**Cade is sleeping in his "big boy" bed.  I woke up at 1:30 am to the sound of little feet, the words "Pee pee" and "Uh oh."  You can fill in the rest (but in case you can't, he had peed all over the floor) 

**I am one of those people who has the annoying habit of not being able to shut off my brain.  I was up for 2 more hours after cleaning that up.  Not what your body needs when you're trying to get better.

I woke up today, Aaron looked at me and said, "You feel like crap don't you?"

Then, without me having to even ask, he called in at work and told them that he wouldn't be coming today.  He's had the boys ever since.

Bless him.

That one little gesture let me know that he puts me in front of work.  That's a big deposit in my book. 

Relationships are like that.  Just like a checking account.  There are deposits and withdrawals.  As long as the deposits are greater than the withdrawals, the relationship stays in the black. 

**the tricky part is figuring out what are deposits for that person and what are withdrawals.  I'm not a very touchy person, but give Aaron a good back scratch, and he loves you for days. 

**giveaway ends tonight.  If you haven't entered, do it. 

That's What It's For

If you haven't entered my giveaway, do so here.  Ends November 15 at midnight ET.


Aaron and I were talking about Cade and our success that we've had with potty-training so far.

**please don't jinx me Cade

I told him I think it's time to get a stool so we can teach the boy to stand up to go

**TMI?  I'm not sure.  It wouldn't be for me. 

**Jackson is fascinated by this concept of going pee in the potty.  He will go to the potty, lift up his shirt, pat his tummy and say, "Poo poo."  He's a little mixed up.

I then said, the only hard thing about a stool would be Cade trying to get on it with his pants down around his ankles. 

Aaron then informed me that that's what the hole in the underwear is for.  So the bare butt isn't showing.  Then he says, "At least I think that's what its for.  I didn't figure it out until I was about 14.  And I'm not going to ask someone.  Maybe I've been doing it wrong my whole life."

Maybe he has. 

We got our family pictures taken in September by my talented in-laws

Here are some of my favorites.

They might just like each other someday.

Love Jackson's face in this one.  

The Future is Bright

Are these perilous times?
They are.
But there is no need to fear.
We can have peace in our
hearts and peace in our
homes.
We can be an influence
for good in this world.
Every one of us.

~Gordon B. Hinckley

I remind myself of this every day.   

We were driving home from Vegas today, and I saw a billboard.  It was advertising a strip club.  Totally nude.  What was sad, was that the woman's face was not even on the billboard.  It was just her body.

Because apparently that's all that's important.

I thought about my sons.  How I hope that they value a woman not for her body or her looks (although, I will admit, there is a place for that), but for her mind and her company.  For the pleasure of simply being around her.  Taking care of her.  Respecting her.

I hope I can teach it.  

It seems like everything is just spiraling downward.  But I can have peace and safety in my home, if I'll let it be there, and do what I have to, to keep it there.

"The future is as bright as your faith."

And the oldie but goody,

"God is in his heaven.  All is right in the world."

Book Review

**I'm probably the last person in the world to read this book.  But, by some strange chance, you've never heard of this book, correct that fault, and read it.  ASAP.

Go here.

I am a biology/human body major.  I loved this book.


Don't let that nerdy statement scare you off.  It's not like any book you ever had to read for science class. 



Also, don't forget about my giveaway.  It ends November 15.  Enter here

Halloween

Jackson did not let go of that bucket all night.  Let's just say, getting him into the carseat involved much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Cade loved "Annie No's" (Auntie Mo's) house.  She'd had uno trick or treater that night, and had bought two Costco sized bags of candy.

You do the math.

Shamelessly Promote

I'm allowed to.

It's my blog.

I just started up an etsy business, and I would like more traffic.  So...

I'm doing a giveaway.

The prize.  A pair of crocheted boot cuffs (your choice of color) or a $25.00 credit to my store.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

 
 I'm currently working on some burlap stockings.  They'll look something like this. 

The nice thing about having a shop, is I make things that I like.  Then if they don't sell, I get to keep them.  If they do, I still know how to make them. 

I'm Going to Die

I did another slot canyon this Saturday.

We started out hiking in this lovely wash.  Nice and flat.  Soft sand.  Pretty autumn leaves.  I was thinking, "This is great!"

And then we went up.

Up a mountain.

A steep one.

**I am one of those people who pretends that I'm brave, but really, I'm a big fat chicken.

I was dying. 

Not of pain or exhaustion, but I really thought I was going to die at one point.  I was stretched as far out against the rock face as I could, trying to find a foothold while keeping my hands clenched against the rock.  I could feel myself slipping.  Oh man, it was bad.

And then we had to go down.

Down is even worse. 

You see how far you could fall the ENTIRE time.  Not just if you turn around and look down. 

I don't think I'm going to go canyoneering again in the fall.  Rappelling into a chest high section of water that was freezing cold is not my idea of a swell time.

**we also ran into this lovely group of men from CA there for a bachelor party.  Their favorite topic?  Rape.   And how funny it is.  Oh and let's not forget the f-bomb.   Because conversations are always so intellectually stimulating when that one is thrown in there.   I was definitely getting the "creeper" vibe.  We let them go in front of us. 

So I don't sound like a Debbie Downer, I did enjoy myself for part of the time.  And I do feel a sense of pride at tackling 190 foot rappels and big huge mountains.   But I don't think adrenaline rush sports will ever be my cup of tea.  I'd rather crochet.  (Grandma alert!)

We made it out of the canyon at 6:00, just when it was starting to get dark, (we started at 8:00 am).  Glade had locked his keys in our car, which was at the top of the canyon.  Glade's car was at the bottom and we were supposed to get a ride in it back to our car.  Guess who we flagged down to give us a ride?  Bachelor party guys.  We made Aaron ride with them.

Goat Hijacking

**this post is a crazy as the title sounds.  Hopefully I can tell it as well as it happened.

I helped coach a Parks & Rec 4/5th grade girls soccer team this fall.   Today was our team party.  As luck would have it, our star player got hurt playing tag.  No injuries during the entire season, and at our pizza party she's out with a bum knee. 

I had told her mom I would take her home.  As we were driving up to her house she was pointing out the goats to Cade and Jackson. 

I helped her up to her house

**first I had to ask her if her dog would bite me.  Apparently its something he likes to do.  She looked around, saw that he wasn't there, and told me I would probably be okay.  Probably.

and helped her hobble inside.  I turned around and saw

a goat. 


Two goats.


On the roof of my car.


My minivan. 


My first thought was that they had leaped from the ground to the top of the roof.  How in the heck did they get up there?

My second was, "Crap.  I'm kind of afraid of goats.  And there's two on my roof.  And three around my car.  How am I going to get in?"


**I almost went back in to ask her how you get goats off a car.


I could see my kids freaking out through the windshield.  Mama bear instincts kicked in and scary goat or no scary goat I ran as quick as I could to the side with the least amount of goats and hurried inside.

The goats started walking down the windshield.  I thought, "Oh.  That's how they got up.  Makes much more sense that being able to jump 6 feet in the air.  I don't know why I thought that."  I did what any sensible person trying to get goats off their car would do and honked the horn.  That just scared them and they ran back up. 

**I now know what Santa's reindeer sound like when they land on a roof.

The only thing left to do was back out.  Slowly.  I didn't want to hit the other goats around.  The other two ran down the windshield and we were home free.




I wonder if Progressive's comprehensive car insurance covers goat damage?  Hopefully.

Red

If any of you have ever taken the color code personality test, then me telling you that I am a red will make sense.

I'm bossy.

I like to have things "my way" or its "the highway"

I get things done.  And fast too.

I HATE feeling slowed down.  Aaron is not allowed to touch me while I'm doing things, especially when I'm cooking. 

I'm pragmatic.

And a teensy little bit stubborn.





Cade is my mini me.

Heaven help us.


side note: Today he insisted that Jackson wear Cade's red shirt.  When I put it on, he clapped his hands and said in a really high voice, "OH!  Really cute!"

 

Cade flying a Blackhawk.  We start 'em young here.  

He works hard too

I get stuck in this mentality of thinking:

"I have the worst job in the world.  I wish I got to leave and go to work and then come home and only have the kids for a couple of hours with a helper around before they went to bed."

Aaron went on a trip to Washington state last week.  He was gone Sunday through Thursday.  I spent the whole time thinking, "He owes me big."

We got into a fight on Saturday.  It was a "I do more than you, therefore I deserve to be treated better.  You have no idea what I go through."

You know those types of fights.  The selfish ones.  Where no one wins.

This week I'm trying harder to understand that Aaron's job is hard too.  That I get a two hour break in my day when the kids take a nap.  That I don't have to get up at 5:30 in the morning to drive to Vegas for some accounting classes and not get home til 6:00.  That I can work out whenever I want because I don't have any place to be, rather than giving up my "me time" in the evening to do it. 

I get to sit outside in lovely 80 degree weather (can I just say that we can finally sleep with the windows open because it gets down to 50?) and read a book on my kindle while my kids throw pomegranates in the air or push each other in the stroller.  He's sitting on his bum all day, staring at a computer screen.  I'm playing volleyball or coaching soccer.

Hopefully I remember that the next time I'm thinking that he needs to do more.  Because its probably more likely that I need to do more and be less selfish.

Email

So this is what Cade's been doing when he tells me:

"I'm just going to check my email really fast"

I have no idea how he found that background.

Probably from Tim Burton's dream or something.

Life After High School

Last weekend was MVHS's homecoming. 

We played our "arch-rivals" Virgin Valley and easily handled them. 

**except I must give them props for an especially creative sign I saw which was, "The best of blue and gold is green." 

My sister Danielle is a senior, and was voted as one of the Homecoming queen candidates. 

It brought me back. 

Back to my senior year.

**no, I wasn't homecoming queen.

I thought I would be.

Everyone that I knew came up to me saying, "I voted for you!"

**usually, when you can get at least 6 people to vote for you including yourself, you're golden.  Especially as a senior, when you have 6 chances to be homecoming royalty. 

I expected it.  Was expecting to hear my name announced. 

I didn't.

I heard my sister's instead.

**we are 18 months apart, and very similar in looks, personality, and abilities.  I always felt that as the older of the two, I needed to be better.  In everything.  Except cheerleading.  She could have that all to herself. 

I had never been homecoming royalty.  And I was okay with it, as long as my sister wasn't either.  This year, was her first year on the float. 

I was crushed.

All my insecurities about not being enough.  Pretty enough.  Popular enough.  Nice enough.  Just enough...seemed magnified.

To make it even worse, the crowning of the royalty happened on my 18th birthday. 

I got to sit in the crowd, playing my trumpet in the band (hello, again, magnifying my loserness) while my sister walked out in a pretty dress announcing to all the world how wonderful and how much better she was than me.

**I know she never thought that.  I, in my own mind with my own fears, put that image on her.

The very next year, she was homecoming queen. 

I was still so angry and bitter about it. 

Fast forward 6 years, and my little sister is again a homecoming queen candidate. 

Nothing.  No insecurities, no worries, nothing.  Just genuine happiness that she wouldn't have to feel the same feelings of doubt about her worth as I did.

**but she still did.  I guess there was a campaign going to have all 3 Danielles as homecoming queen candidates.  She felt the only reason she was picked was because of her name.  Grass is always greener.

The wake up call for me was the high school ends.  And (hopefully) insecurities and fears and feelings of inadequacy associated with high school end too.  (new ones take their place but...c'est la vie) at least we don't crown homecoming moms.  Gah.  Can you even imagine?

Anti Skinny Dipping

Jackson really really really wanted to take a bath.  I walked into the bathroom to check on Cade and this is what I found. 

Apple Picking

I was doing so good writing in this blog...for about a month, and then my gung-ho-ness fizzled.

Back on the wagon.

We went and picked apples in the middle of September.  I spent the next week canning applesauce and pie filling.  I'm slightly proud of all the jars, but also feel like the amount of time I spent, I should have gotten millions of quarts, instead of only 21. 

 Don't let Jack Jack's clean face fool you.  He was all over this picking apples and playing in the dirt thing.  Except he thought they were balls...and tried to put rotten ones in our bucket. 

Cade loved the paddle boat they had. 

Fear

When I was in high school, I loved to read the news.  I would pick up the paper, grab a snack, and devour it (snack & paper). 

Yesterday, I was reading about the economy, what happened with the American ambassador, the Chicago teachers strike...and it was really scary.

In high school, I wasn't scared.  Life was grand.  Because all I had to worry about was myself, and even then, not even that.  My parents always had money, ergo, I was fine.  Nothing was going to happen to me.

Now I read about how if our current spending continues, in 2020, we will be at 200% of debt ratio to GDP (just for comparison, Greece is at 150% and has declared bankruptcy).  My head knows this can't keep happening.  And 2020 is only 8 years away.  That's not far enough for me to be sure that I and my children's children will be dead and so I won't have to worry.  I'll only be 32.

I wish the teachers striking in Chicago could step back and look at themselves.  They're protesting that their average $74,000 salary can't stand to handle not having guaranteed 4% payraises, even though there is no money for those pay raises.  And heaven forbid that it actually be possible to fire teachers and grade them based on student performances.  How many of you have ever heard of a teacher being fired?  (besides for having sex with a student).  Shouldn't they be?  Any other profession will fire you if you are incompetent.


**I do not mean this as a rant against the teaching profession.  I know that teachers have a hard job.  I know.  But that still doesn't change the fact that teacher's unions are keeping students out of school for 2 weeks now while they protest that raises should be guaranteed when there is no income to fund the raises.  It's ridiculous. 

I start to go a little into panic mode at this point.  And I have to remind myself.  I am promised, that if I am doing everything right, living right, striving to become better, that I will be okay.  Now, I don't know what okay means.  My definition of okay is different that God's I'm sure.  But, I will still be okay.  And I have never looked back and wished for something different than for what I've been given.

When Aaron lost his job in Arizona, I was freaking out.  Applying for jobs.  Crying.  Wondering how I was going to feed my kids.  Where we were going to live.  What we were going to do.  The day after he lost his job, I was driving home from grocery shopping and a song came on:

"God said it, I believe it.  Tis all that faith demands.  Though heav'n and earth shall pass away his word will stand."

I thought, "Aaron followed a prompting.  He did what he was asked.  We're doing what we're supposed to.  Everything is going to be okay."

So while my news reading has definitely decreased, when I feel the urge to freak out and feel like the sky is falling, I remind myself that I and my family will be okay....eventually.  And it will all work out.  And I won't regret a thing. 

A Choice

 **I hope the way I've written this makes sense.  Its hard sometimes to write things down, because they sound so much better in your head and on paper it all comes out kind of "blah" and confusing.

Our other family picture from Tahoe. 

Long road trips make for interesting conversations.

On our trip up to Reno, Aaron asked me, "Rachelle?  Do you feel like you love Cade more than Jackson?  Because I sometimes do."

**Jackson, when/if you read this, I promise.  Your dad loves you just as much as Cade.  Always has.  He would die to save you and he would die to save Cade.  Keep reading.

I then told him that he'd been loving Cade longer than Jackson and spent more time with Cade, so it was easy to feel like he probably didn't love Jackson when he really did.

And then I wondered?  Do I really love my children equally? 

**I really worry about this.  The complexes my children could have because I favor one.  Or even appear to favor one.  I just have to remind myself that the Atonement can fix everything.  Even if I do my best, I will still screw my kids up.  Someone will have issues because of something I did.  I'm grateful that the Savior can fix them.

That night, I had a dream. 

**that sounds really Book of Mormony...

I was driving in our van, and Aaron was in front of me, in the 1995 Blue Dodge Caravan that I used to drive.  Yes, laugh now.  The minivan I drove in high school was a preview of my life to come.  At least I never started out cool. 

Aaron was with the kids and was going around a corner.  The car didn't quite make it.  I see the car, with my entire family in it, drive over the edge.  The front window was open and Cade goes flying out, into the water.  Jackson is strapped in his carseat as the van starts to sink.

I'm watching all of this.

And I'm frozen. 

Who do I save? 

Which one?

And then panic.  I can't pick!  Don't make me choose!  Tears.  Screaming.

**I made myself wake up before the dream continued.  I didn't want to know what would happen.

I was afraid to go to bed for the rest of the night.  I even prayed that I wouldn't have that dream again because it was so awful.  Gut-wrenching. 

A couple of days later I was telling Aaron about the dream and realized that, as scary as the dream had been, it was a tender mercy.  I had been wondering if I loved Cade more than Jackson or Jackson more than Cade.  That dream showed me that I didn't.  I couldn't even move while watching all of this unfold, even though my brain was already making plans for saving them.  To save Jackson I would have to hurry and get in the car before it fills with water and roll down a window before the force of the water is too great.  I just have to remember not to panic and breathe in water.  With Cade, I just have to dive in and find him.  Hopefully he remembers what I've tried to teach him and blows bubbles and tries to float on his back.  I've got at least 3 minutes, which is plenty of time if I don't panic.  I know CPR.  I can do this.  Even while I made plans, I knew I didn't have time to save both, and so my body didn't do anything.   I couldn't choose which child to save. 

Writing this down reminded me that I know I love a person when I imagine them dying and leaving me.  Whenever my parents left on dates and were even a couple minutes later than they told me they would be I knew they were dead.  That I was going to get a call and have to take care of my sisters and brother and bury my parents.  And then I would start to cry.  Same thing when Aaron's later than he tells me.  He's dead.  I know it. 

**Good thing his commute to work is 5 seconds. 

Witch-i-Witch-i-pah

I am finally home.  Just in time to head right back up to the Salt Lake area for another family get-together.

August has been nuts.

We've had the Olympics, then Reno (Hot August nights included), and a family reunion in Greer, Arizona.

Oh, and a visit to Tonopah.  Cade's favorite place.

**let me tell you something about Tonopah.  It has a place called the Crazy Clown motel.  With a clown out front. 

No joke.  He asks to go to Tonopah every day.  When we tell him not today, he says, "Tonopah!  Tomorrow!"

Except, he says it like this, "Witch-i-witch-i-pah.  Mahrrow!"

I die.

And when he says gummy bears, which is "Gully beer"

The best picture I have ever taken in my life. 

Tahoe is beautiful.  That is all.

Oh Jack Jack.  You had sand in places I didn't even know you had

 Thanks to Uncle Dale and Aunt Liane, nearly the whole McCombs family was able to get together at their pool.  We BBQed, swam, and had relay races.  I think the Olympics inspired all of us.  The only people we were missing were Jen & Cody and their baby girl Amelia (and we ran into them at a gas station in Tonopah), Lizz & Nick, and Tyler. 

Cade jumped off that diving board 100 times at least.  He LOVED it.

We love our Puddle Jumpers!

 Aaron's favorite part of Hot August nights was racing the Corvette.  Chevy & Ford brought down some Mustangs, Corvettes, Camaros, and Ford's new Focus.

**which was pretty impressive for a Focus.  Aaron's car that we just sold was a focus, and we didn't name it Patsy for nothing.

If you wanted, you could drive the Corvette or Camaro down the track and then ride with a professional driver.  I didn't feel very confident that I wouldn't wreck the $100,000 car, so I just opted to let someone else drive me instead.  And I got a free shirt. 

We saw some drag racing and watched other cars parade around.  I took pictures of the paint jobs that I thought were the coolest.  I did get yelled at by an old man for touching the paint job on his car.  I couldn't help it.  It looked so silky. 

Messy Messy

This is what happens when Daddy lets Jack Jack eat yogurt all by himself.

**and he let Mommy clean up the mess.  Something about having to go to work.

Finding Nemo

This is how my life feels now.

"It's like he's trying to speak to me I know it!"

Cade will talk and talk and talk.  I only understand about half of what he's saying.

My problem is, he talks and talks and talks and expects me to repeat back the thing that he's saying.

**when I babysat, I could get away with "Oh!  Really? Uh huh."

Not with this child.

Too bad he didn't come with a translator, because "Mommy!!  Moke ear!!" really means "Mommy!  There was smoke in the air from the fire!" 

I just took me all day to figure it out.

Broccoli

Yesterday we had broccoli

**now, broccoli is not my favorite thing.  It's easy to over cook or under cook and hard to get it just right.  When it's overcooked, it smells just like an old shoe and then it's mush.  Yuck.

Cade immediately started eating it.  Almost scarfing it.

My jaw dropped.

He finishes his last bite and goes, "Mommy!  Ice Cream!"

WittleBee

Living far away from stores makes me do most of my shopping online

**this is kind of a bad thing.  Online shopping.  I can do it at all times of the day, rather than just when I can get to the store.

Anyhoo

A friend got some clothes from WittleBee and loved them.  I've always shopped at the Osh Kosh outlet in St. George because they let me combine coupons

**they do things like purchase a certain amount, get $10 off a $10 purchase.  My grandma and mom shop there too and always give me their $10 off coupons.  I used to be able to combine those along with a 25% off coupon, shop the clearance rack, and get steals.  I'm talking, brand new shirts for $1.00.   Pants for $3.00.  And they're not from Wal Mart.

Well, they've stopped doing that.  Bummer.  Big bummer, because kids clothes are expensive. 

I've tried going the second hand, but because I have two boys so close together (and let's face it, Jackson is almost as big as Cade) I need to have them start out new so that they'll last.  I've been impressed with the Osh Kosh quality too. 

But, I got sucked in.  WittleBee offered me 50% off my first box, making it only $20.  Plus, free shipping. 

Sorry Osh Kosh.  It's been nice knowing you.  Let me combine coupons again and I'll come back because I really do love your overalls.  Especially these ones.

Apparently I'm More Judgmental

With all 3 males in my family eating at least one thing of yogurt a day, we go through them pretty quickly.

Cade was so sad this morning when he opened up the fridge and there was no more yogurt.  He had to make do with peaches and granola.  Poor kid.  I did feel sorry for him until he stole all of my granola.  Then, we were at war.

A trip to the grocery store was in order. 

**we're also teaching Jack Jack how to feed himself.  Yogurt is the perfect vessel.  It sticks to the spoon so he learns how to guide the spoon to his mouth without having to worry yet about the food falling off.

A trip to the grocery store to just get yogurt shouldn't be painful.  But it was.

Cade threw the mother of all tantrums.  I think he won an Oscar for it.  It was that good.

**I don't even know what the tantrum was about.  Usually I have some clue.

Now, because this tantrum was so big, I was in sort of a conundrum.  I can't put him in the cart in the seat, because Jackson is there.  And I have no hope of having Jackson walk calmly and quietly by me.  I can't put him in the basket, because there's yogurt in there.

**I've cleaned yogurt off of floors enough times to know that when yogurt is thrown, it shatters.

My only option was to hold/drag Cade while pushing the cart. 

I'm thinking to myself, "People are probably wondering why I'm just letting this kid scream and I'm not trying to stop it.  They're thinking I'm the most uncaring mother ever.  How could I just let my child cry like that?  Shouldn't I know better to not take them out in public when they're like that.  Why hasn't she taught him not to scream?"

All three checkout aisles were commenting on Cade's screaming.  All the cashiers and all the customers.  And then, one of them said, "I'm amazed how well you're handling this.  I'm proud of you for just ignoring him."

Jaw drop.

And then, everyone else started telling me what a good job I was doing in ignoring him and not responding, telling me that this is the only way he has to express himself, but if he doesn't get what he wants...yada yada yada.

**this was just a different reaction than I had imagined.  I guess that's why I was so surprised.

I guess its true that most of the times, what you're imagining other people are thinking, is really not what they're thinking.

**except when you meet old men at Wal-Mart.  They tell you exactly what they're thinking.

Hearts

I slept in this morning.

**for our family reunion, we've been challenged to a 5K by my uncle who has gout.  I must beat him.  I must.

I justified it by telling myself that I would play volleyball today for 2 hours instead.  That would be my workout.

**I got more of a workout just swimming Cade back from the diving board.  Keeping someone else's head about the water along with yours with only one arm is hard work.

Now I'm listening to Cade learn about hearts and the sounds they make.  He lays his head against Aaron's chest going "Ba bump!  Ba bump!  Ba bump!"

**learning about hearts should be second nature to him.  I was pregnant with Cade during one of my anatomy and physiology classes.  I still remember having to wear this H.U.G.E. leather apron during the anatomy lab (with the cadavers) because my pregnant belly would stick out while I was trying to look at muscles and bones and get all wet...with...well...juices.

This article made me just "slightly" proud.   I can't wait for football season.  My dad always gets amazing tickets, and there's always one game he never goes to.  I'm totally calling them.  They put ice cream under your seat.  BYU Creamery ice cream.  Not to mention, the tent.  It's full of glorious things.  Chocolate fondue.  Fruit bars.  Popcorn.  Prime rib.  Yummo. 

Reminded

I was reminded yesterday that not everyone has the same blessings that I do.

And that I need to be more grateful for them.

And appreciate what I have.

Rather than wishing for what I don't.

Because, sometimes, someone else wants to be just like me. 

Have what I have.

And they can't imagine what I could have to complain about, because I have:

A family.

A husband.

Children.

**Cade told me today, "I love Mommy!"  Made my heart melt a little inside.  And then he said it again and again and again.  I appreciate moments like that.  They make me feel like I'm doing okay at this whole parenting thing.  

A place to live.

A job.

Food in the fridge.

A working A/C**

**we don't right now.  Waiting until tomorrow so it can get fixed.  At least its only 90 out.

Faith.

Love.

So tonight, I am grateful.  Rather than wishing to be someone/something else.  Tonight I am happy that I am me.  That I am where I am.  That I am what I am, working on trying to be better, but still happy with who I am and what I'm becoming.

**sometimes, in an effort to share more feelings and thoughts, I tend to get a little negative.  But if my blog does get read by my children, I want them to also know how much I enjoyed and loved them as well. 

Aaron, Jackson, and I at Morgan's wedding, August 2011, Jackson still has all those delicious arm-rolls.

Horrible

Our car is a Ford.  This means, it has a keypad on the outside that lets us type in a code and the doors either lock or unlock for us without keys.

**the brilliant thing about this is that I can leave the car running with my kids in it, but its still locked and I can get back in while I run to go check the mail.

**or so I thought.

Yesterday, I got a knock on the door.  It was a police officer.

He asked me if I'd been to the grocery store today.

**this is the same officer who found my wallet after I left it on top of my car at the gas station and drove off.  I thought the same thing had happened.

I told him yes.

He then asked me if I left my little boy in the car. 

Sick, horrible, feeling.

He then proceeds to tell me that I'm not allowed to do that and that's he's going to give me a citation and I'll have to go to court.

Cue more sick, horrible, feelings.  That terrible drop in the pit of your stomach.

I proceeded to tell him that I had left the car running and the doors were locked because of my wonderful keypad.  I didn't think that was the problem.  I thought the problem was parents leaving their kids in the car without it running.

**I feel sick and tears coming on just writing this.  Yuck.  Yuck.  Yuck.

He asked me for my drivers' license and then if I've ever been arrested.  I tell him no, and then he tells me he's going to go into his vehicle for a little while.  I just sat outside and sobbed. 

**my neighbor came out and asked me what was wrong.  I felt like such a dork.  I hate crying in front of people.  It's hard for me.  I'm not a crier by nature.

It felt like forever, but he finally came back, handed me back my license, and told me he wasn't going to give me a citation, that he thought I'd "learned my lesson".

**I think he felt bad, because the rest of the time he spent reassuring me that I was a good mom.  Hahahaha.  That was kind of awkward.

Canvas and a Scare

Remember my $5.00 16 by 20 canvases?

I saw this tutorial floating around the blog world and tried it.  They turned out pretty good, but I don't recommend putting your wet canvas on top of wax paper.  The wax paper leaves weird indentations in the Mod Podge and they never really go away.

I didn't use scrapbook paper on the sides though, like the tutorial I used.  I painted the sides with the same paint I used to cover up any parts of the canvas the picture didn't cover.  I'm glad I decided to use charcoal gray paint instead of black.  It was one of those "brilliant moments" and I didn't even know it was brilliant until after I did it. 

**black & white is actually a misnomer in a way.  More technical would be shades of gray

They're now hanging up above our bed.  The reason you aren't seeing them there?  The walls in our bedroom are planked.  As in bad 70's basement planked.  Aaron told me, "If our walls weren't wood planks, I would like the pictures more I think."

 **I just realized that the couch they're on though is bad 70's floral couch.  Oh well.  I can't win.

**I had a tender mercy yesterday.  I went to the thrift store last Wednesday with my grandma and came home with a really cool old window (only 2 dolla) that I was going to re do and use.  Yesterday I got it out to take out some screws and left it kind of leaning on the table against the wall while I went up to switch the laundry.

I heard a giant CRASH and then screams.  My first reaction was panic.  I could picture the blood.  Everywhere.  Children gouged by giant pieces of glass.

Jackson was only 3 inches from the biggest piece.  Somehow, every single piece missed him and Cade.  Nothing.  No scratches, cuts, or anything.

I realized later that I had had a gentle nudging in my head when I went upstairs, "That window really isn't very sturdy.  I hope it doesn't fall."  I realize now that it was the Holy Ghost telling me my plan was stupid and to move the window.  I thought I was being smart by putting it up high out of children's way.  I'm grateful that they didn't have to pay for my lack of attentiveness.

Cade has been re-enacting the scene.  He'll point to the table, then to the floor, yell, "BOOM!!" and fall to the ground.

I still have plans for the window.  It's just not going to have glass anymore.

Fulfilling

I talked about how motherhood was still is a hard role for me here

I think its hard to believe you're a good mother/person when you know exactly what you yourself are thinking.  To others, who only see the outward reflection of you, you may seem like the perfect person.  But when you know what you're thinking...

It's a struggle for me.  It's hard to wake up in the morning to a baby banging and rattling his crib (thanks Jackson) when I feel like I just laid down.  It's hard to think of breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, and to add on top of that I have to make sure they're healthy.  Its hard to play the same games over and over and over, or read the same stories over and over and over when I can think of much more enjoyable ways for me to waste my time. 

And I KNOW that I struggle with it.  When Cade was born and I was experiencing the weirdness that happens when your hormones are settling (at least I hope that's what it was, because I've never had thoughts like that before) I would tell myself that if I loved my baby, or if I was a good mother, I wouldn't feel a certain way.  I wouldn't want him to go back inside or I wouldn't want to have my old life back.  I would be shouting from the rooftops that I love being a mother and its the best job ever and that's the way that I should feel inside if I was a good mother.  Because I didn't, I wasn't.  Other people could see me and saw the outward appearances, and to all outward appearances I was being unselfish, giving, and attentive.  But the inside part of me was rebelling and didn't want to be that way.  I knew that. 

When Cade was about 3 weeks old, a girl in our ward stopped by my apartment.  She had just had a baby two months ago and saw me walking with Cade in our stroller.  She asked how I was doing and I gave all the right answers.  Fine.  I love being a mom.  Greatest thing ever. 

She was inspired and saw right through that.

**what was weird is that I had never considered us especially close or even really talked to her (being in Primary kind of isolates you)

She came over with her baby and just started talking.  With her being over there I felt a little bit more comfortable to tell her exactly how I was feeling.

You could have picked my jaw off the floor when she said that she had felt/still feels the same things.

**my friend Annie said that she doesn't think any of us ever have one original thought.  I personally think the only ones who do are millionaires.

The relief I felt was amazing.  I know that other people felt the same way I did.  I was okay.  I was doing okay.  Even with the insight though, it was still hard.  But I was less hard on myself.  And that made all the difference.

Yesterday, I took Cade and Jackson to the pool.  We were swimming around and Jackson was floating on his back going "Ahhh....."  Cade swam up to me and grabbed my arm and started making "Ahhh" sounds along with Jackson.  And I felt it.  Fulfillment.  Joy that these children were mine.  Love for them.  Happiness.  Gratitude. 

And then someone splashed water in someone's face and the good feeling was gone.

My little "babushka".  Blackmail pictures.

"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he has been robbed. The fact is that most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to be just people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, and most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. Life is just like an old time rail journey . . . delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride." [Jenkins Lloyd Jones]

For Your Healthy Eating Pleasure

Crunchy Asian Salad

Not my salad.  I can't photograph something so pretty, but kind of similar in appearance

**I do not like cabbage.  I L.O.V.E.D. this salad.  It was divine. 

now, onto the ingredients

24 wonton wrappers
1/2 c rice vinegar
3 T peanut butter, of the creamy variety
3 T soy sauce
2 T oil
2 t sesame oil
2 T sugar
2 t fresh ginger, grated
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 t pepper
3 c each Napa Cabbage, Red Cabbage, and Romaine Lettuce
4 green onions
mandarin oranges

Cut the wonton wrappers into thin slices.  Spritz with cooking spray and bake at 400 degrees for 10-14 minutes until golden brown and crispy.  Combine remaining ingredients (except for the cabbages, lettuce, green onions, and mandarin oranges) and whisk until smooth.  Add dressing to cabbages and lettuce.  Toss well.  Top with crunchy wonton strips, green onions, and mandarin oranges. 

**You could add chicken marinated in teryaki or something and make this a meal.  Yummo.

Sidenote:  I took Jackson to the pediatrician yesterday for his well-baby check up.  Apparently, his head circumference is off the charts.  As in, so big that there's not even a percentile for him anymore. 

Victim Syndrome

Aaron is reading this book

Step 1 or Habit 1, is what started our conversation on the way back from Hairspray

**it was 11:00 pm, way past my bedtime.  I'm surprised that a coherent conversation was still possible, let alone a "heartfelt conversation".

Step 1 is to be proactive.  To realize that we are a product of our choices, not a product of our circumstances.  Victor Frankl in his book, "Man's Search for Meaning" talks about learning that in the concentration camp during WWII.  His attitude toward his circumstances determined how he felt and reacted to them.

That was all nice and good until we started delving.

I know that so many times I blame how I feel based on someone else or something else.  I have issues with my body because my dad offered me money to lose weight, because my mom told me I shouldn't/couldn't eat something, because I never got asked on dates when I was fat, and because the media tells me that I should look a certain way.

But really, playing the victim, all it does is take the responsibility for change away from me, and put in right on someone else's shoulders.

**this is one of those things that is easy to realize, but hard to implement.  Maybe if I write it often enough, I'll actually want to change it.

**and then I struggle with not being sure if I really want to change it.  I guess I'm afraid that if I think I look good, I'll let myself go.  Like the negative attitude about myself is what keeps me from becoming what I'm afraid to become.

Then if I'm the victim, its no longer my fault that I am the way that I am.  Its A, B, C, D, all the way to Z.  And until A, B, C, D, etc change, then I don't have to do anything.  I can stay the way I am.

So when Aaron bothers me, or I lose my patience with Cade or Jackson, or when I'm angry or feeling fat, Stephen R. Covey and Victor Frankl and other smart people say that its because I'm choosing to be.

Dang it.



**I'm missing volleyball today to take Jackson in for his doctor's appointment.  I tried to reschedule, but the next available spot was in September.  People really need to stop seeing the same doctors that I do.
**Michaels had 2 16x20 canvases on sale for $5.00.  Score.

Hairspray

My brother-in-law Gary won 4 tickets to Hairspray at Tuacahn on a radio show.  He and Kim invited Aaron and I to tag along.

**the funny thing is, to win the tickets you had to provide the correct word for the definition.  Gary called in 3 times, was put on the air 3 times, and finally guessed the right answer on the third try.

**the seats were amazing.  Middle row, right in the front.  Not bad for free.  Also, it didn't rain (like it was supposed to) and the temperature was fabulous (79). 

My review on the musical?  I liked it.  Tuacahn always does a good job on their musicals and anytime I watch one I always want to get up there and sing and dance too.  Hairspray isn't one of my favorites.  I saw the movie (with John Travolta) and it was okay.  I like the older musicals better, like Sound of Music, Camelot, Les Miserables, and West Side Story.  The newer ones feel too screechy and loud to me if that makes any sense. 

It was nice to get out and Aaron and I were able to talk on the way up and back.  I love talking in the car.  They can't escape from you, and it shuts out other distractions.  It seems to just open up the air for conversation. 

One day I will learn how to pose correctly.  I always make myself look wider.  The denim shirt isn't helping either.

This isn't the best picture of me, but I wanted you to see the yellow pants.  I made them.  Well, dyed them.  In the washing machine.  It was so easy. 

The Wild Outdoors

The one weekend we decide to go camping is the weekend it rains.

Hard.

**when you're a kid, there's kind of an aura or a bubble around camping.  You go, have a great time, come home, shower, and sleep.  As a parent, you realize all the work that is involved in camping.  You must prepare for any contingency (and hopefully not forget jackets for yourself.  But its really hard to think you'll need jackets when its been over 115 at home), pack all your food, gear, clothes, toiletries, diapers, extra underwear...  And then coming home.  Oh the fun has just begun!  Especially when you're cleaning up after it rained.  Mud, mud, mud, and more mud. 

**I told Aaron I'm okay if the rest of the camping experiences our children have come from Scout Camp.  One's where I don't have to do anything.

Oh Jackson.  Its a good thing I love you.  Especially when you eat dirt.

Cade LOVED the fire.  (I totally claim the pyro side of his personality)  He was grabbing things out of the garbage to throw into the fire.

The way up the mountain, Cade would yell, "Ohhhhhh Die! Die! Die! Die!"  Then as we reached the top, he looks at me and yells, "Made it!"  Our next ascent began the same thing over again.  "Die!  Die! Die!" 

**My camera had been taking really fuzzy pictures lately, almost like a glowing sensation or halo effect.  I chalked it up to the fact that I was messing around with the buttons.  Yesterday, I asked Aaron to fix it.  He found a sticky fingerprint on the lens. 

Irony

I was 15 and a half when my youngest sister Emilie was born.  My one and only brother Mitchell was 18 months older than her. 

I got asked all the time if they were mine. 

**this was traumatic for me as a 16-year-old

**it was even more traumatic for my mom.  That made her grandma.

In the past three weeks I have had several people tell me that I am too young to have children or ask if Cade & Jackson are mine.  When I tell them yes, I am their mother, and that I'm almost 25, their mouths drop.

"You can't be older than 16."


One old man who asked me if Cade was mine offered to give me his juice that he had just bought.  Slightly weirded out, I said no.


**Maybe writing this post was good for me.  I woke up this morning and ran 2 miles.  At 5:30 in the am.  And it was still.hot.  As in 90's hot.  Bleh.  I also made a green smoothie.  Baby steps. 

Scared To Change

Have any of you ever experienced this?  Where you know you should change something about yourself?  But you're afraid.  Afraid of what you'll have to give up.  What you'll miss.  What you'll become?

Lately, this struggle has been about my diet.

I took lots of nutrition, physiology, and anatomy classes at BYU (my major was exercise science).  I KNOW what the people are saying about eating more fruits, vegetables, and whole grains is right, and that processed foods do little or nothing for you.  I also know that God has been saying the same thing for nearly 200 years.

But I'm afraid.

I'm afraid to clean out the pantry.  Toss the junk.

I like A, B, C, and D.  I don't want to have to not eat them again.  I don't want my kids to be the weirdos at school.  I don't want to be considered weird.

But I also don't want to have heart disease.  Cancer.  Poor bone strength.  I really believe that the increase in autism isn't from vaccinations, but from the chemicals in the food we eat.  Same with ADD, ADHD, and dyslexia.

**I am not saying that all of these disease are caused directly or because of food.  I understand that disease happens.  It will always happen.  But we can do more to prevent it.  Not just treat it.


It's funny.  I watch documentaries, get all gung-ho and then stop.  I don't do it.  I don't clean out my pantry and toss everything.  I don't buy more fruits and veggies.  I just sit there and wish I could do it.  I've built up in my mind how hard its going to be.  What a sacrifice.  Then I start to justify.  It's okay.  The FDA wouldn't approve it if it wasn't safe.  Thousands of people eat this and don't die.  I'm not sick. 

GAH!

**I came back and started writing more after a few hours, and already my desire to change has fizzled.  I've rationalized it away. 

Pools Rats Never Grow Up

I was a lifeguard for 5 years. 

During that time, you get to know lots of small children.  Lots.

**When I was little and swimming at the pool, I would NEVER talk to the lifeguards.  Ever.  I was scared of them.  These kids.  No fear.  "Hey lifeguard!  Will you fix my goggles?  Hey lifeguard!  Tell him/her to stop splashing me.  Hey lifeguard!  Has anyone ever pulled a "Sandlot" on you?

My favorite pool rat was a girl named Brooklyn.  She called me black girl.  And my little sister Grandma.  Once, she tried to kidnap her (my little sister, Kim) by picking her up (she's tiny, like 100 lbs wet) and putting her in the basket in front of her bike.  But I was always grossed out when she would stick her feet up on the table and say, "LOOOOOK!  Fungus!"

Because its so hot here, swimming is about the only thing we can do outside.  I bought a pool pass for me and the kids and I head up to the pool almost every day.

**I need to get pictures of Cade & Jackson's tan lines.  Jackson has tan lines where his fat rolls are.  His arms are so squishy and chubby that there's white lines where his rolls are/

The same kids who used to come every.single.day when I was a lifeguard 4 years ago, are still there.  Just bigger.  But their moms aren't there anymore to complain that the high chlorine levels (which I could do nothing about) were giving their boys rashes...down there. 

 But now they play with my kids.  And tell me that they're so cute.  And ask them if they want to be airplanes.  And I kind of like them now. 

**Cade loves to float on his back.  Today he said, "Mommy!  Dee (that's how he says Cade) night-night!"

No Fashion Sense

Today while I was getting Jackson dressed, I thought I'd try the new fashion craze...mixing patterns.

He wore red plaid shorts with a turquoise and white striped shirt.  We were mixing patterns, but keeping a common color scheme.  The red shorts also had turquoise.

**I play volleyball every Tuesdays and Fridays for 2 hours.  It keeps me sane.

First thing when we get there, two people ask me if Jackson picked out his clothes today.



Fail.



**I let them think he had.

When It Just Gets Too Hard

My grandma, aunt, and I like to go to yard sales.  More often than not, it's just junk, but sometimes you find a treasure. 

We were supposed to go just this last Friday at 7:00 in the am.  I went to pick up my grandma and she was almost in tears.  Her water heater had broke last night and flooded their bedroom.  She told me that she wouldn't be able to come.

**my grandpa has Alzheimer's. 

I stayed and helped her clean up the water off the carpet.  She showered and my dad came and put in a new water heater. 

**we were able to go to the yard sale.  I found a really cool bird cage, but it wasn't $45 cool. 

Then she started talking about life.  How its hard.  How its hard to live with the man that you married and have him not be the same person.  And how its hard for him.  Because he knows that he's hard to take care of, and feels bad.

I could tell she just needed to vent.  Unload.  Get it off her chest.  To someone outside of the situation. 

I let her.

I think trials like that are difficult.  I know when I went through something similar (where someone I loved was sick and I couldn't fix it).  I needed to talk to someone.  But not the person who was sick.  How could I let them know that sometimes I wasn't strong enough for them?  Because of them?  No, I poured out my heart to my mom.  She listened.  Then I could go back and be there for that person.  Support.  Love.  Sympathize.  And when the emotions that I was feeling got to be too much for me, I unloaded again to close friends, my mother-in-law, or my mom. 

I'm grateful for friends.  For those who can be there to support when life gets hard.  Because sometimes you need someone to just listen.  Who can listen to what you say and not have it add to their burdens, but relieve yours.