Wednesday, November 30, 2011

In no Particular Order....

  •  Word searches are competing with sports and the Wii for the boys' free time lately. Restaurant etiquette is being transferred to our own dining room table...they are wanting to do the word searches while they're waiting on their food and eating. {No kids, you actually have to help set the table and talk to your dang family during the meal...SORRY!}
  • Have you ever read "The Glass Castle"? I bought a rotisserie chicken for dinner last night and once again found myself wishing I had her mad chicken picking skills. I feel like I leave way too much meat on the bird. PS If you haven't read that book, do it. I think you'll like it.
  • So lately we've just been having a raw veggie plate sitting around. You know, for snacks, dinner, just whenever. Now we don't force them on the kids- we just have the plate conveniently present. And guess what? They're eating them. And loving them. And so are we... Shoot. Maybe I am "one of those moms." Whatever that means. {But let's be honest...more veggies=more room for Oreos.}

  • Loved yesterday that Yosh gave into my incessant begging for the past 6 1/2 years and finally called in sick to work to unpack our 7 suitcases and just hang out with his sweet wife all day because he was throwing up. Oh I could get used to having that man around all the time. Even if he's sick. Even if he's not unpacking. Isn't it nice just having another human being around?

  • I am not saying anything. I am not insinuating anything. I am simply stating facts. And in case KARMA is in a bad mood today, I am knocking on wood just in case. Yosh, Dallin, Porter, Deeter, and Kaia have all fallen victim to the stomach bug. I have not.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero. ~Marc Brown

After having two kids, somehow I formed an automated response to the much-asked question..."Are you done?" And the answer was something like this: "If it were just for me, I'd be done. BUT...I feel like there's something siblings have to offer each other that I just can't, so I'm going to keep going." To be honest, I almost looked at it as a gift I was giving them. The opportunity of built-in support, advice, love, and friendship.

Thursday afternoon, Dallin came running to the door- screaming- with blood dripping from his face. His brother was right on his heels. We brought him in and doctored him up. Porter sat quietly by his side the whole while, observing but not willing to leave. After all was said and done and they were both still just sitting, I was looking at this the scene from a different room. In real time- right then and there, not later in reflection- I was in awe of the bond these two boys share. In awe, because although it's something we can encourage, it's not something Yosh and I can give to them or force on them. It is their relationship to decide what to do with. A transparent moment showed thus far they've decided to develop, nurture, and protect it.

Throughout the last few years, my mom has made trips to NM on a more than regular basis to check in on her little sister. The last six weeks, she just stayed. Despite the sadness and heaviness of the situation, there was no other place my mom was willing to be. The young summers of driving a million  miles to visit each other, the thousands of phone calls, the hours of was all coming to an end. AJ's life paused to solidify the depth of this relationship. The uniqueness was reciprocated as Gretchen was surrounded my many who loved and cared for her, but for the more personal care-taking, she was only willing to let my mom be the care-taker. The end truly represented the culmination of what they had become to each other.

My sweet grandma sat at the rosary in Gretchen's honor, graciously accepting the comfort so many were trying to offer. As Uncle Kip would say in the eulogy...."No parent should have to bury their daughter." And she felt the weight of this unfortunate circumstance, even at 90 years old, loathing the loss. In the side door, located right by where she was sitting, her sister unexpectedly came walking in. As Alby caught sight of her, her raw reaction- back all of a sudden straight, dropped jaw, eyes big- confirmed that real comfort had arrived. As she sat down right next to Alby, and their heads naturally tilted in until they touched, and their hands locked, Alby was now truly able to let someone else share her burden.

"Is solace anywhere more comforting than in the arms of a sister?" ~Alice Walker

Those words I've said so many times- how siblings have something only they can offer each other- were spoken with an innocent shallowness. This week has shed some of that innocence and carved depth in that theory.

We need each other. 

Monday, November 28, 2011

Road trippin

Hello 75 degree weather. Yes yes, I missed you too. And thanks for waiting for me. I thought our paths might not cross, but I was pleasantly surprised.

We're home from our whirlwind 6 days away and it was an amazing 6 days. Conventional? By no stretch of the imagination. Amazing? In a lot of ways, it really was. We saw almost all our families and watched life come full circle by attending both a baby blessing and a funeral.

Before I get to the meat of this post, I need to start with a quick aside. Because I thought this only happened in movies. You know where the man leaves on a whim and chases his lover 6 hours by car, stops at a random pay phone an hour outside of town to pinpoint her exact location, finds her, wraps his arms around her and manifests his love, as if his actions hadn't already done just that. But this was my life Friday night.  At 11 pm I got a phone call from someone, answered it and didn't recognize the voice on the other end. Must of just been context. Because it was my husband. I had left at 10 am to drive down to New Mexico. After he got our sick kids settled with his mom, he picked up and got on the road- phoneless. 

Did you know pay phone's still exist? And more so, did you know people still use them? It was romantic.

But let's talk about road trips. Beverages beverages beverages. Drink as much as you want on a road trip. I found the mother of all beverage stations. Let's analyze this picture. Mind you I only took a picture of half the sodie selections. But please draw your attention to the left of the beverage dispenser. We have what I would like to term the "lid release". Each release is clearly labeled by size. You open it up and it nearly hands you ONE lid. Not ten that you have to fumble with and try to pull apart. Just one. Because you only need one. Logical. And to the left of the lid release is the straw slots. Once again, clearly sorted and placed with the correlating cup/lid size. Maverick- I love you. And I need more of you in my life. You made my road trip memorable.

What road trip is complete without getting pulled over at least once? I'm flying through this small town and out loud, I say, "I better slow down. This is the town-" {rudely insert sirens}{insert ticket for going 51 in a 40}{insert mercy- I was going 68 in a 40}"Mom, let me finish my story. I better slow down. This is the town where my MTC roommate lived. She always said, "Wellington, UT- you know, the town everyone gets a ticket in on their way to Lake Powell." Well, I wasn't on my way to Powell, but I KNOW Wellington, UT.

This is where things get AWESOME. Yosh and I drove back to UT in separate cars. At our first pit stop, I was all excited. "Yosh, guess what I've been doing in the car?" He didn't skip a beat..."Talking to yourself." {Which FYI, he would only snap that off so fast because HE always talks to himself.}  "No, Yosh. Even better. Voice memo. I was talking to myself AND recording it." I have found a new BFF. Many chit-chats ahead for us. I need to figure out how to rig this thing to go on runs with me...


Got to love a good road trip. And the thinking that goes on. And I'll have you know I voice memo'd many a thoughts that I'm looking forward to getting down on the bloggy. I can't wait til I have the time to write, write, write this week. Stay tuned.... 

Thursday, November 24, 2011


Spontaneity always seems to be the secret ingredient that elevates normalacy to the higher level. The addition of this guest was definitely a sponataneous decision.
It's been a long time since I've spent Thanksgiving with Grandma Alby. Circumstances were such this year that last minute, she rode up from New Mexico with my mom to pass this Holiday with our family- such a special gift for all her grandchildren. And I don't think she quite realizes that.

Last night as I went to help Alby inside the house, I looked at her face, trying to read her thoughts.  But as I opened her door, she eased any worry with what has become her signature greeting..."Well, gabey, this old gray mare isn't what it used to be." She followed that with her classic head-shaking laugh before she embraced me with a hug. She has just come off a super hard week- maybe one of the most emotionally-draining ones to date- and has been consumed with sadness. Yet once again, my grandma reminded me of an important principle of life- happiness is a choice. Something I've always admired in her as I've watched her face the lemons life has thrown at her. She has chosen happiness.
I want to be like her.
 I'm so thankful for the relationships I have in my life and the examples they serve to me.
Yosh, at some point your boys are going to not only want to be like you, but want to know how to become like you. And your little baby girl- she's going to wonder who this man was as her young dad and want to know why she needed to steal your heart and keep it clutched in the palm of her hand. And I don't want to deprive these kids of those treasures. So today I'm going to write about you. Because recently YOU are who I have really been thankful for.

I've been thankful:
~As you have stopped at the grocery store to pick up 'a few things' because you noticed we were running low.
~As you've pro-actively jumped in to help get the kids ready to go out the door or go down for bed.
~As you've made a concerted effort to tell me how beautiful I am- and then told me again until I listened.
~As you've turned everything with an on/off button to off, to spend time with me- whether playing Boggle {and getting your booty kicked. Well at least sometimes!}, helping on a project, or- probably a personal favorite- just talking. You're showing me I'm more interesting than anything else for a few minutes.
~As you've wrapped your arms around me more and paused- really paused- to give me a genuine kiss. Making me realize that I more often push away than let that little extra love in my life. You're teaching me to slow down for moments that count.

Boys, here's a secret about us's the small things that make us happy. Why? Well, because you can gift us these small things every single day. The big things are great, too. But those only come every now and then. We want to remember to fall in love with you more often than just every now and then. And your dad is giving you more and more of an example of what the small things are.

And baby girl, I owe you a lot. Your dad is without question the main male influence in your life. And not just because he is your dad- it's because you have appointed him as such. Every time he walks in the room, you twist your sweet little head with a smile in place until your eyes connect with his. And if needs be, you scoot your little self over to him until you find his feet and can force that same smile on him. He is your role model because you want him- and no one else- to fill that role. And you know what? Because you have stretched his heart more than he thought possible, he in turn is loving me more, so that you have the example of what it means to really be loved. He loves you that much. And I love being loved!
Thankful for the man in my life.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

another first

view full image
"First time skiers. Good luck, boys. "
Does Porter look happy or what? We're throwing him and Dallin to the dogs. Or just sending them to ski school. Hopefully their warm blood adjusts to cold temps and they get lost in the world of flying down the mountains.

My goal is- in 5 years- to be able to do this as a fam. There's a lot of things that need to come together to make that happen, but.... this is step 1. And until it's my turn, I'll be in this nice, warm house making cookies and sipping on hot chocalate.

Monday, November 21, 2011

more food, less cold

Well somehow posting about returns was all I needed to kick me in gear, make a list and check it off. I got two big boxes out of the house on Friday, one out the door this morning, and am almost on my way to Gap and Nordstrom for the last of them. {Well except one from like 2 months ago...} Done and almost done. Welcome home, clear conscience.

Glad that's off my list because Thanksgiving week has begun. And don't for a second discount how important this Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday are in getting prepared for the big day. It's time to start steadily increasing your food intake, stretching that  tummy little by little so that by Thursday... it is ready to be filled to capacity- a new and improved MAX capacity.

Now as a side note I'd suggest also upping your cardio during these days. If for nothing else, do it to help your bowel system out, making sure it stays nice and regular. There could be nothing worse than a bloated stomach to frustrate your Thanksgiving indulging. A friendly piece of advice. 

This fattening up comes at a perfect time anyway. I'm feeling like I'm going to need a couple extra pounds for winter insulation. Can I confess I'm a bit nervous for our upcoming travels to confront my 5 days of REAL winter for the year? I've called my sister with questions about how to dress a baby in cold weather, I'm stressing out on packing all this winter clothing {the little we have} into suitcases, I'm wondering if I'll venture out of the house at all or simply hibernate. I am a wuss and still haven't detailed my plan of attack about overcoming cold weather. But it will be good times. Family and food always pull through as the compensating factor.

{our last get together. Port Orchard 2010. photo by cassi pope}

Friday, November 18, 2011

It really should be Easy....

 My life coach- aka my friend who can organize my life much better than me- whipped my time effectiveness into shape and forced Amazon on me as a more consistent part of my life. She said I must start ordering diapers, toilet paper, deodorant, gifts, etc...everything I would go to Target for must now come from Amazon. So in addition to my other Amazon staples, I added her must-to's to the list. Throw on top of that our recent home projects, plus the Holidays, plus 4 growing kids and I swear our front room sometimes looks like UPS. As is the case now.

This can clutter things up a bit as somehow the shipping time takes away from the excitement and urgency of these must-have-now items,and I tend to get to opening boxes and putting stuff away much slower than if I had just gone to the store. That being said, I think it's definitely the more efficient choice. At least in theory. But there's one factor that throws the theory for a loop, the thing that drives me absolutely crazy and makes me NEVER want to do online shopping. You guessed it. The returns. I have major major aversion to confronting the return process. Call me lazy, which I won't deny for one second, but I'll tell you what there is some part of my brain that turns off at the mention of "return" and does not know how to function. It seems more than overwhelming to repackage odd-shaped objects into the box that even the professionals barely had fitting in, get the correct return labels, find out which delivery place to get them to, and then somehow trying to balance the big old boxes and the babies as I finally walk into the store. There's got to be an easier way. And I'm sure there is but somehow I'm still trapped in 'filling the ink to use a typewriter instead of using a computer' when it comes to this. So this is where I'm at. I have a pile of returns and- let's be honest- a pile of 'needed-to-be-returned-but-missed-the-deadline'. And it sometimes keeps me up at night. Please don't remind me these are small problems compared to others. I know this, but these are my problems.

My goal this weekend it to attack each and every last one of these boxes, get my piled-up returns out the door {poor Yosh thinks he doesn't have anything going on this weekend...SURPRISE!}, get our Christmas decor up minus the tree and outside lights, get all Christmas shopping for out-of-towners done, and maybe even cook a meal. And drink a lot of Diet Coke. With lime from my very own lime tree. We'll see which one of these things rolls over to next weeks to-do list as it has done week after week after week....   

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Vida, you are my...Vida

The place where my whole paycheck goes every week.......

OH WAIT.....I don't get a paycheck.


Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Gym Woes

I did two things differently at the gym yesterday than i normally do. 1) I ran with music. 2) I wore a t-shirt instead of a tank top. Who knew these two small, insignificant changes to my routine could cause so much inner turmoil.

1) I recently indulged and got an iPhone (just the 4, people. No Siri in my life.) So I'm loving having Pandora at my fingertips and that was reason enough to invite music on my little treadmill run. Believe it or not, I usually run with nothing but my breathing to keep me company. Well, I cued up my Fugee radio station and got to running. And I was loving it. Enough so that I was getting these urges to break out in song and harmonize with my girl, Lauryn Hill. And let's not act like I can sing. Not that it matters- you just can't be doing that at the gym. Leave the grunting, moaning, and singing at home bc no one wants to hear it. And then that one song comes on...."You, you got what I need, but you say he's just a friend, but you say he's just a friend. OH BABY you...." You know the one. And how can you not sing along to this? I'm trying to just mouth the words but every now and then my vocal chords get hold of one those words and lets it escape. Before I know it, I'm exerting as much energy to stifle my singing as I am to running. A lot of work running with music.

2) So I'm a little embarrassed to share this confession but here it goes. So I HATE having my armpits covered when I work out. Drives me crazy. I can FEEL the heat increasing, the sweat gathering, and it's trapped, has no where to go. Which is why I have a strict 'tank-top only' policy for working out. How in the world did I talk myself out of it yesterday? I don't know but I threw on a super light V-neck tee and was out the door. Well I get a mile or so into my run and I'm starting to feel border-line schizophrenic. I'm having the urge to rip my clothing off, only to be compared to the one time I was tricked into natural child birth and had the same urge. I was just a yanking at the hospital garb trying to get NAKED. I was that hot and desperate. You know your mind's not quite in the right place when you reach that level. So that's where I found myself yesterday. Remember last post about not taking a stance? Well I'm about to take a stance- I don't like girls wearing just their sports bra at the gym. I think it's unnecessary. Keep it classy. On with the story. I find myself in a predicament. I'm about to lose my dang mind with this t-shirt yet it goes against "me" to take my shirt off. But I'm desperate and can focus literally on nothing else other than FREEING MY ARMPITS. So the shirt had to go. I at least left it draped around my neck, hanging over my bra and some of the tum-tum. But no doubt I was bare backing it, sides exposed, and let's be honest...a good part of the stomach. I was essentially one of "those" girls for a good 15 minutes. But drastic circumstances call for drastic measures. Do forgive me. I was out of my mind. I am more recommitted than ever to my tank tops.

Lesson learned. I must still be traumatized by the whole situation...couldn't get myself to my favorite class this morning. Think I must still be hiding my face....and my back....and my tummy.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Who are you?

I was out for dinner the other night with my friend and was dying laughing when she described herself in her own words........"Often wrong. Never uncertain." Why is this so funny? Like with most humor, it's derived from truth and this is a girl who sees life in black and white and presents everything she says as FACT. Which is why I'm often hammering her for an opinion fact on any and every subject I have a question on.

Now how would I describe my own self? It would probably go a little something like this, ............"Always uncertain. Next to never wrong. Why? Because I take a stance on....well, almost nothing." Oh yeah and probably finish that up with, "Peace. Love. Do your thing." Coming from a girl who undoubtedly sees the world in ...gray. How did this happen? Aren't you supposed to be more sure of more things the older you get? Well somehow the opposite is happening to me. The older I get the more I think that life is summed up- rather than in right and wrong, black and white- that different decisions yield different outcomes and these outcomes fill different niches in life, ya know? So maybe take a look at the path you're decision making is taking you and decide if you want to continue on that ride or change the route.  That's how I look at things.

How do you view it all? Are you a black and white, all or nothing kind of person? Are you nothing but shades of gray? Is there an exception for everything? How would you describe yourself? Just try, it's kinda fun/funny.

Now the other thing I love about this friend was her follow up comment. She was all, "I'll be the first to say 'scratch that idea I had before. I've changed my mind." Meaning, don't hold her to any of her opinions facts because she is an ever-evolving thinker. And you know what? I think that is what holds me back from taking a side on issues- I feel like I'm making a forever decision that has to hold up...well, for forever. 

You know that saying "YOU HAVE TO STAND FOR SOMETHING OR ELSE YOU'LL FALL FOR ANYTHING"? At this point in my life, consider me on the ground crumbled to next to nothing. BUT in thinking about all of this, I'm considering taking more stands. At the risk of being wrong. Or at the risk of allowing myself just a momentary stance. ALWAYS open to changing my opinion next month, next week, or more likely....tomorrow.  We'll see how it goes. But always keep at the forefront......"PEACE. LOVE. DO YOUR THING." That's me.

Monday, November 14, 2011

DeeDee Lukey

Wow someone hook me up with some professional grade earplugs because Deeter is L.O.U.D. loud. Now I'll admit that there are many times that I find this characteristic charming, endearing, and down-right funny, but 7 am is not one of those times. "Moooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm where did my uh-oh  {binki} go?" "Mooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm I can't find my uh-oh. You come help me?" And put this on repeat until I finally take the pillow off my head, surrender to the yells, and get my big booty out of bed and moving. Gone are the days when he hung out in his crib for a good hour after he woke up, allowing me to get many a things done. No, not just extra sleep. I'm talking dressed, breakfast made, lunches made, and then haul him out of the crib {unless Dallin had already beat me to it}. He has learned that loudness gets results. Which is why he's employed this tactic both in the mornings and after naps.

I must confess this isn't a foreign yell at all. It has an all-too familiar ring to it. I remember laying in my bed at a young 19-years-old just a hollering, "MOOOOOMMMMMMM." When AJ finally responded to my incessant calls, she was usually met with a, "Can you puh-lease bring me a glass of water?" It was endearing, ya'll. Worked like a charm every time as she gave me that smile and the exasperated, "GAbey." But every time she reappeared with some coldy water for me. Now admittedly 19 might be a bit old to be causing that kind of ruckus but I'd argue that 2 years old is too young. 


Saturday, November 12, 2011

Beautiful Veteran's Day

high expectations plans
 being completely unproductive and not even enjoying the laziness til 1 pm
kids napping enslaving us from 10:00 on
not really talking with the kids about what Veteran's Day is

no school
kids entertaining themselves most of the morning
Deeter asking, "Mom, will you be my girlfriend?"
stars aligning to find a last minute baby-sitter
saucy date with dallin b 
playing UNO in La Salsa and getting lost in a 6 yr-old's world
finishing the night off as a fam with In n Out fries dipped in their Chocolate Shake

Today I've drastically lowered the standard and guess what? It's 7:41 am and I'm already exceeding it. It's one of life's great mysteries I tell ya.....

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Walking with Irony

...because it's everywhere. The recognition of it heightens enjoyment, lightens up reality, and deepens sorrows. It plays so many different roles. I remember walking home with the two babies a few months ago and seeing this man smoking in very close proximity of my path and was instantantly thinking, "Are you serious? You know this place is crawling with kids. You're gonna give us all heart failure." His look to me- and my screaming 2 year old- snapped me right back into reality and brought a smile to my face. The truth of the situation was Deeter and his screams were gonna give us all a heart attack way before his cigarettes ever had a chance.

This morning I woke up nauseous. I forced down a yogurt and made my way to my boxing class. I warned them I wasn't up to par. No, I wasn't pregnant, just nauseous. I stood side by side a 53-year-old mom who has a 6 year old. The conversation provoked the question and I didn't restrain. "I have to ask...were you planning that?" She laughed and said no, that in fact she didn't even think it possible.

I got home and walked myself to the shower. I took a LONG probably 20 minute shower letting the hot water do it's magic. And I thought about that mom, and how I think news of a pregnancy at 46, with my other child being 20, would send me right to the insane asylum. And at a young 31, but with 4 other small ones crawling at my side, the news now would probably send me to the same place. But 20 minutes is a long time to think and I shouldn't be surprised that irony made it's way into the monologue. That right now, in a shower probably not very far away, some desperate woman stands in the same comfort of the hot water, hoping it lifts the heaviness of her heart. Begging that God will trust her with one of His little ones. Promising that she'll do everything right, that she'll be the perfect Mom if just given the chance. Dreaming of that day when the doctor places the perfect gift in her hands and says, "Here's your beautiful baby." Fighting the temptation to concede to her fear that it will never happen. 

Irony is everywhere. My pain is someone else's joy. My answer to prayer is another's heartbreak. It's interesting how our lives all work together creating an intricate puzzle- allowing irony life, taking on it's many different roles. And like so, how we are thrown into the irony, demanded to fulfill those different roles at different times, circumstances, and stages of our lives. And somehow it all comes full circle enlarging our compassion a little bit at a time.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Why we need girlfriends

The problem here is pretty obvious.
The remedy was just as obvious. It was just a matter of FORCING it to happen.

Just as Christy had to drag me out of my house 2 days before Kaia was born to get a hair cut, she had to force her hand again. She hadn't seen my hair down in almost 3 months and knew, once again, an intervention was necessary. Which is why she showed up to my house with scissors in hand ready to remedy the problem.

I get the look and respond with, "What? You don't like it?"
"Those leggings....they're a bit much for me but.... if you like them, you rock them."
{Well thanks for the permission bc they were already ready to be rocked.}
I show up to destination Beautiful Baby Lyla's Blessing, where the compliments come unsolicited.

{ignore the picture minus the tights. who knows what I was doing....}

My husband had me walking around thinking I looked like a kook. But my girls had me thinking I looked HOT.

And this right here is why we all need girlfriends in our lives.

Monday, November 7, 2011

The Unveiling

We went ahead and turned this.........

into something of beauty.

This is one of the first times I really really wish I were good at photography because I don't have pics to do it all.

You just don't grasp how our yard all of a sudden seems 3x bigger.
Or how it feels like we found a teeny piece of Hawaii and went ahead and uprooted it right to our backyard.
And I guess on that note we uprooted a teeny piece of BYU also?
Or how the fire pit and built in BBQ completes the Southern Cal feel.

But here's what I do have:

{now I'll have you know that I had to go through some stuff to get even these mediocre shots so when Yosh comes home complaining about "Why is the screen off and how are we gonna get it back on?" please help remind him that he wanted these "better" shots as much as I did. Get er done.}
{also imagine the red striped furniture replaced with these in the pear green come February}

Do note that I finally got my lime tree and palm trees I've been dreamin about. That's all I really asked for. 

{I feel like these next pics are undoubtedly putting me in the 30+ crowd... here's my new front yard garden} 

Melissa, if you're reading this you go on ahead and give your husband a slap on the booty for a job well done. His work even created a jealous lover- I've already gotten the "break-up" letter from our gardner, saying he didn't feel comfortable "maintaining someone else's garden." Interesante.

Let it begin...s'mores, basketball, grilling, fires....that's all you need to turn December into endless summer nights.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

As Is

There is truth in saying life is like a roller coaster. But better said, it's absolute truth that life is a roller coaster ride. I've reached this point in the maturing process where I recognize the existence of ups and downs and I respect that cycle. But I'm finally learning to go all in when life is on the ups and let all guards down. I'm throwing away the mentality of only cautiously enjoying the high in order to better brace myself for the low; the low that I just have to ride out.

I like life.

Just been thinking about how good life has been lately. And finally not worrying about the next dip.

Friday, November 4, 2011

Better Late than Never?

In one instant Deeter proclaims, "My butt hurts." And in the next I'm making a sickening discovery. I walk over to scrape the last bite of yogurt into his spoon. But I stop short as I look at the discolored remains on the bottom with a completely different texture than the yogurt I opened. "You have got to be kidding me." I stared in shock- to think what I have been depriving my kids of all these years. Ok ok, or maybe less dramatically, just all these months. It's like giving them macaroni without the cheese, PB without the J, Oreos without the milk. This Stonyfield Yo Baby brags their own product to be "Love on a Spoon." Well I'll tell you what....there ain't no love if mama ain't stirring and this mama hasn't been stirring. That's right, we're talking about the fruit-on-the-bottom variety. And it's hard to pinpoint the exact moment I lost that specific brain cell responsible for relaying memos of this kind- you know, "stir before eat"- but most likely it took it's death ride out the birthing canal {ironically} right alongside Kaia Marie. And these kids have been suffering ever since.

I pulled myself back into reality, went to fetch the subsequent yogurt Deeter was requesting, peeled back the top and before relinquishing ownership, I took his spoon and gave that yogurt the stir of a lifetime. "Here you go, Mr. Deetz. And stop saying 'butt'. Two-year-olds don't say 'butt'."

Happy Friday ya'll and stay tuned for a "reveal" on Monday {assuming I get the good pics, oh but I will!}....ahhh I've been dying to share!

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Oh just feeling good

1) I would like you to know it is ONLY noon:thirty and I am worked-out AND showered; couple of kids down for a nap and we've consumed breakfast and lunch, both courtesy (Don't you fret Vida, I haven't forgotten about you.)

2) My shirt has a little something to say on my behalf:
and all I have to add to that is...."Baby, baby!" I♥U, LA! And your 75 degree weather.
{Haha so I actually thought my shirt said, "Forever LA". Lovers LA, Forever LA...whatever!}

3) Can I tell you all that you have been making me feel like a million bucks lately? Seriously. Your complimentary comments and emails about this here blog have taken me on a ride straight to Cloud 9. Thank you thank you...and I do say that sincerely!  xoxo gay

Wednesday, November 2, 2011


We were late for school yesterday. More correctly, Porter was late for school; Dallin was on time courtesy of a neighbor. Believe it or not, this is actually a positive thing. Because the alternative might have been an all-out fight at 8 am. This was evidence- and not the first of it- that "plan B" is working. The details are as follows: if Porter is ready for school {which is a list of about 5 things} when it's go-time, he earns a Wii game of 5 on 5 football for the afternoon. And if he's not ready, he doesn't. And apparently the side note to that choice is that we will also be late for school. This is the first time we've been late since the plan was intact. I'm learning what compromise really means. Being on time is important to me. Playing the Wii is important to him. If we work together, we both get what we want. If we struggle, well neither one of us gets what we want. I guess I'm learning that, to me, it's worth it to compromise being on time for no yelling? Hmm, I didn't even know that about myself. Learn something new all the time. And there was no yelling or screaming {from either party} in the morning. And there was no Wii in the afternoon.

Now "plan B" was created after "plan A" had a miserable crash landing, possibly never even made it to take-off. Last week I was praying and strategizing- I needed a new way to handle/discipline/mother this Pistol Pope of mine. Things have been a bit on the rocks, como se dice. And in that prayer, a plan was developed. For three days I was going to remain calm in iffy situations and give Porter more leeway. And hopefully that three days would allow us both the opportunity to push the restart button for how we communicated. I felt like I needed to take more responsibility for my actions and have that be my focus. So with a plan in place, I was ready to go face my day.
Well I'll tell you what it wasn't 30 minutes into "plan A" before I found myself screaming at him {yes, you read correctly} and.......brace yourself.....hitting the bill of his hat. I know, embarrassing. Feel embarrassed for me and look away from the computer screen. I don't know what exactly was faulty in this plan- whether it was the plan itself or my aversion of commitment that took no longer than 30 minutes to kick in and send me flying off the handle in panic mode, claustrophobic by the thought of sticking to something for another full 2 days and 23 1/2 hours . Either way, it was about that long before I was back to square 1, and really less than square 1 if there were such thing cuz it usually takes a lot longer than 30 measly minutes into the day to get me that fired up. Talk about digging a hole....

So plan B was devised on the double and has thus far produced success on the good and not-so-good days. In fact we've actually had a really good week. I'll tell you what, this thing of trying to raise a kid that is JUST LIKE YOU is for the birds. Oh the parody.... how often that the child most like you is the one you have the most clashes with? What is the lesson in that?!! {The things that make you go Hmmmmmm.....} We're gonna make this work, I'm not giving up on you, Porter P!!!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

It's Official

....or at least unofficially official.....I don't think we're dresser-uppers. I mean it's hard to know what to post first....the boys' disappointing costumes or our failed attempts. And which created which? {Please tell me I'm not the cause for spoiling this for the boys......}

So here they are...the rapper and Luke Skywalker. And sorry folks, but uninspired costumes = uninspired photos.  
(They both chose who they would be and what would comprise their costumes. Dallin's best friend showing up as a rapper revealed the inspiration for his choice.)
And photos of the Deets? One word......refused. Not pictures, costumes.

This year I was determined to get in the mode for being the cool parents that dressed up as we've never been the type. We planned on taking baby steps to be ready to go full-fledged in future years. PROBLEMO: Baby steps failed.

Yosh as the....I don't know.....hoosier? White-trash neighbor? In any case, his mustache wouldn't apply and we weren't about to hot glue it on as that seemed about our only remaining option {imagine a permanent Movember-stache. NASTY.} And with the wig alone, his baby girl was up in fits. Didn't want him to hold her, was crying with real tears and utterly scared. Done and done. Costume removed.

I was getting the house ready in the afternoon for a little meal pre-trick-or-treating and up until the minute people came over, I wasn't about to go anywhere near my own costume. Can you imagine someone pulling a 4-ft long black hair from their soup? And with that kind of length it's not like you can discreetly remove it and carry on as if nothing happened. Well, I was not about to put myself in that predicament of being the source of DISGUST. When the last platter was in place I was ready to costume-up. Black wig, huge black hat. Those said black hairs didn't end up in the soup but they did find their way to my mouth. I only had the stamina to battle them for 5 minutes before I couldn't handle it anymore. I yanked that wig off but still felt in costume with the huge hat. With the wig out of the way, I was now more aware of how completely disrupting the hat was. I could barely see, I was running into things with the big ole brim........point being, it wasn't working. See ya. Frisbeed the remaining "piece" to the couch where it hung out for the rest of the night.

I tried. We tried. And while I'm not permanently throwing in the towel, I am decidedly sticking to Oreos for cool points for the next while..... serenity now....