Your husband loves you more than my husband loves me

It's been a while since my last blog post.  That's because I have been trying to get over my broken heart.  Time and time again something like this happens.  I always try to convince people that my husband loves me more than any other husband loves their wife.  But the truth of the matter is, it's just not true.  I guess I've just been trying to convince myself of it to make myself feel better.

Let me start from the beginning.

I started realizing that perhaps my husband didn't love me as much as other husbands love their wives several years ago.  It happened one night when I was out late with friends.  Everyone's husbands were checking on them.  Everyone but my husband.  I arrived home at an unreasonably late hour only to find my husband fast asleep.  When I questioned him about not being worried about me he said "I knew you'd call if something was wrong."  My response?  "But your phone was downstairs in the kitchen!!"  Even if something was wrong, and I or someone else tried to call him to alert him, he'd have been peacefully sleeping upstairs, none the wiser that disaster had struck his poor wife!!

But people, it get's worse!  I know what your thinking...how could it possibly get worse?  I assure you, it can.  And this, my friends, is the proof that your husband loves you more than my husband loves me.

On the night of November 6, 2013, I went out with some friends and dined at a fine eating establishment.  We talked, we ate, we talked, we ate some more.  Then we talked more, and more, and more.  Next thing we knew, it was late.  I checked my phone regularly to make sure all was well at home.  Not one single call or text from my husband came asking about my current state of safety.  Not one single ounce of concern was being shown.  Meanwhile, as we've decided the hour was late and we should be getting home, a husband called to check on his wife to make sure all was well.  That husband was not mine!

I arrived home at 11 p.m.  I proceeded to obtain entrance into my home through the garage after being dropped off by a friend.  I keyed in the code to the garage, at which time my friend left because it would only be safe to assume that I'd be fine continuing my entrance into the house at this point.  I arrived at the door from the garage leading into the kitchen only to find it locked!  Was it possible that my husband locked me out of the house THEN went to bed?

I knocked.
No one came.
I called his cell phone.
Then listened to it ringing inside the home while no one answered.

I then exited the garage and made my way to the rear door of the house.  I found the rear door in the same locked state.
I knocked loudly, hoping that my husband, presumably sound asleep right above me would hear his poor, dear wife and come to her rescue.
My loud knocking was done in vain.

Thankfully, I had previously witnessed my husband breaking into our home several months prior when he inadvertently locked us out of the house.  With crossed fingers, I hoped that my felony skills were as good as his.  Luckily they were (I should look into a career change) and I was able to gain entrance into our home...finally...without any help from him.

Upon further inspection of the home, I found my husbands cell phone, sitting all by itself on the kitchen counter.  I then found my husband, sound asleep in our bed, completely oblivious to where I was and the potential trouble I was in.

It was in that moment, right then and there, that I realized that your husband loves you more than my husband loves me.  And it was in that moment, that my poor little heart broke into a million tiny pieces.

I mean sure, my husband loves me enough to do the dishes multiple times a week.  And sure my husband loves me enough to work hard for our family so that we can enjoy all the comforts of life. And OK, he loves me enough to support me in a lot of my crazy ideas that other people judge me for. And it's true, he loves me enough to make me hot chocolate when I'm craving it but all he wants to do is sit on the couch and rest.  And it's true, he does love me enough to take our child to the bus stop on cold mornings so that I can stay in our warm house with the other kids.   And yes, my husband loves me enough to buy me things that I probably don't need, but really want.  And yes, my husband loves me enough to watch the kids while I have girls nights.

But still!!

It was in that moment that I knew that the only way my heart could be put back together and become whole again would be if my husband would bring me a slice of Hershey's Sundae Pie everyday for the next 5 years.

Fall Rambling

I love Halloween and fall.

Perhaps it's because fall means pumpkin and I love pumpkin.  Pumpkin patches, pumpkins on the porch, pumpkin in every bit of food I eat.

Perhaps it's because fall means brightly colored leaves on trees and I want to take a picture of every tree I see.

Perhaps it was because it was a Halloween barn dance that juC and I shared our first dance together.

Perhaps it's because it was in the midst of Halloween and fall that Jud and I had our first date.

And having children has only intensified my love of fall and Halloween.  I love having photo shoots with my kids in their costumes. I have looked at the above picture about 1,293 times since Halloween because I feel like it's the perfect depiction of everything I love about Halloween.  My kids in their costumes.  Each holding their buckets for collecting candy.  Holding hands (even if it was only for 5 seconds) as they walked down the beautiful fall tree lined street.  It's another one of those images I wanted seared into my memory.

I have this terrible...habit. (Is it a habit?  A curse?  A blessing?  To be honest, I don't know what it is.  And I don't know if it's me, or something more powerful than me that causes it)  There are certain times that triggers something in my head where I have visions into the future.

I'll give you an example.

A few weeks ago luC went upstairs to get something while I stood at the bottom of the stairs and waited for her.  Because she is still so tiny, walking down the stairs takes her a great deal of effort.  Add the that the fact that she was carrying something down with her, she had to walk down slowly, carefully, and resting her hand on the wall as she walked down.  As she was walking down in that particular way, an image flashed in my head of her 15 years from now, walking down the stairs ever so carefully in a prom dress as I waited at the bottom of the stairs for her.

The picture above causes me to have the same kind of flash into the future of my children.  When I look at that picture I see jC and luC several years from now, walking together, talking each others ears off, and being great friends.  But I picture them being too cool to dress up for Halloween.  I picture them at a time in their lives when they no longer let me pick out their costumes and are too old to let me have photo shoots with them.  Ok, so a part of me pictures them being bratty teenagers who want nothing to do with me more often than not.

I don't know if those visions will come true, but  for that reason I love fall and Halloween even more right now.  I love taking them to the pumpkin patch and watching them pick out their pumpkins.  I love that they let me pick out their costumes and are excited to dress up.  I love seeing the excitement on their face when they realize how much candy they are getting from neighbors.  I love the joy they get each time they eat more of their treasured candy.  I love it, I love it, I love it.  And I will forever be grateful for this time of year and for these memories.  And I will hold on to these memories like my life depends on it.

All about ME!

I feel like I am surrounded by talented people.  So many of my family and friends are so talented.  And it's like they are all greedy with their talents because it's not just a couple of things that they are really good at, but a whole slew of things.  It hardly seems fair.  And it makes me feel inadequate.  So many things other people are good at that I'm not.  Then I thought "Hey, instead of focusing on that, I should focus on the things I am good at!" And then I decided I might as well make a list.  Because there were so many talents I do have once I really thought about it, I didn't have anymore room on the mental list I was using.  So here is a hard copy of my talent list.  (I thought I'd share it with everyone in case you, too, were thinking I didn't have any talents and want to know what things I'm actually good at.)

--I'm super talented at putting my foot in my mouth.  In fact, I'm so good at it that I don't usually notice it's in there until half of my leg has worked it's way in there, too.

--When it comes to laundry my talents are varied!  1.  I'm good at waiting until the last possible day to get laundry done.  2.  I'm awesome at putting clothes in the dryer then forgetting to start the dryer.  3.  I'm amazing at putting clean clothes in a laundry basket and never putting them away.  AND 4.  I'm great at not ironing wrinkly clothes.

--I'm a talented driver...back seat driver.  Just ask juC.

--I am so, so, so, so, sososososo talented at eating.  I mean really.  I can eat anywhere, anytime, anyhow.  I can eat fast.  I can eat slow.  I can eat cold things or hot things.  Sweet things or savory things.  You show me some food, and I will show you the best way to eat it.

--Some talents took becoming a mother to develop.  Like being mean to kids was a talent I never had until my children came along.  I'm still perfecting this talent, but my kids think I'm a master at it.

--I have a great talent in avoiding people.

--I am amazingly talented at sitting on the couch doing nothing when the house needs to be cleaned without feeling an inch of guilt about it.  It's one of my favorite talents.

--juC probably wouldn't want me to admit this, but I am so dang good at making him feel guilty.  It's a talent I've really tried to perfect over the years.  I'm not sure if I've mastered it yet, I'll have to ask him.

--You know how there are some talents that you try to hide because if people knew you had them, they'd always be asking you questions about it?  This is one of them.  I have an inhuman ability to wear nothing but pajamas and stay in my house for DAYS.  I've considered trying to set a world record for most consecutive days wearing pajamas while remaining inside, but jC starting school really threw me off my game.

--I have a very special talent in hearing what people say and twisting it into what I want to hear.  This talent can be used for both good and evil.

--I am top notch when it comes to not making goals.

I could go on, but I have a messy kitchen and a couch I need to go sit on while I look at the messy kitchen.  I highly suggest if you are feeling overwhelmed by your supposed lack of talent compared to everyone else's plethora of talent, to sit down and make a list of your own.

Memories

Last week, after jC got home from school, he and luC sat down to watch a show.  Baby cC came up and started pulling on luC's feet and she called out to me that he was getting her.  jC sweetly said "you can put them on me so he can't get you."

Since jC started kindergarten, they pretty much fight nonstop after he gets home from school.  (Particularly about luC sitting too close in proximity to him while they watch a show) So when this scene went down, there was a glimmer of hope that they won't be mortal enemies forever.

There are a whole slew of occurrences like this that I'm so scared I'm going to forget but want to always remember.  I have been absolutely horrible at keeping a journal, which makes me so sad.

Like a few weeks ago when jC and luC were going up the stairs and jC said "I'm going to win!" (because he always has to win) and luC sweetly and innocently said "I'm going to lose." (because for the most part, what does she care?)

Or last week when luC found one of those neck support things for when people travel and thought it was a boppy.  She put it around her and said she was going to feed cC.  Then proceeded to pull up her shirt as he sat in the exersaucer and he tried to grab her.

Then there was about a month ago when I was on a walk with luC and cC.  It's funny because luC has no interest in cars.  Because...she's a 2 year old girl and all.  But she is always noticing jeeps.  (Yeah!)  So there was a jeep that she saw out on our walk that prompted a conversation about her wanting a jeep and that's what she's going to drive when she's a big girl.  Something about having that conversation with a 2 year old was funny and made me proud.

And one of my favorites is when I'm in another room doing something and cC starts crying and jC says "cC is crying and luC didn't do anything!"  Because we all know if cC is crying, it's probably because luC is torturing him!

And last week I got jC his pouch apple sauce to put into his lunch box.  I showed him that these ones had new helicopter looking tops to make for easier opening for younger kids.  He was asking all about it and said "Who came to put the new tops on?"  I love the way their little minds work.

Or the way luC calls high chairs "hiding chairs".
Or the way jC calls Chuck-e-Cheese "Chuck-e-cheezits" and McDonald's "Old McDonald's".
Or the way jC and luC both say "smarshmellows".

Seriously, I don't want to forget ANYTHING!  Ok, maybe I do want to forget some of it.  But for the love of Pete, I really need to do better about documenting!!  It already makes me sad to think about all of the little things I'm going to forget

But going back to my first story and mentioning my kids constant fighting about sitting too close to each other.  What is with that?!  We seriously have a very large couch that could seat 7 people comfortably, but my 2 small children can't make it work?  And we have a very large floor area, and my kids both want to sit in the same spot on the floor and have a huge fight about it?  I swear, it's a conspiracy!

Esther 12:27

One of the biggest sources The biggest source of guilt that I feel in my every day life is in my lack of abilities as a mother.  Specifically my biggest weakness...my lack of patience which usually quickly escalates to a raised voice or yelling.  Every time I yell at one of my children I immediately feel guilty.  Every time I read things from other people who talk about their imperfections as a parent, but then say things like "But at least I don't yell at my kids", I feel guilty.  I read those things, or read uplifting posts from other moms who have "figured it out" and I vow to myself to do better.

But the reality is, the next day luC stands by the toilet and pees on the floor.  And then she body slams cC because he has a toy she wants.  And jC freaks out because he can't have what he wants right when he wants it.  And he hits luC for the pure joy of it.  The new day and new start I was looking forward to is just a brand new day of the reality that I am impatient and my kids are kids.

Yesterday, as I sat on the couch and juC was down in the basement with the kids, little jC came upstairs.  He was smiling and happy and he kept hugging me and giving me kisses.  He grabbed on to my hand, and gently shaking his head with exclamation, he whispered "I really love you."  My heart melted and broke at the precise moment he said it.

Then later in the day, luC came and sat on me while I was watching General Conference.  Similar to my experience with jC in the morning, she repeatedly hugged me and kissed me, and kept sweetly saying "I love you."  Similarly, my heart melted and broke at the same time.

My kids are kids.  They are pure.  They are sweet.  They are easy to forgive and usually easy to forget.  But I know it won't always be that way.  As they showed so much natural affection to me it made me thankful that apparently I'm doing at least part of my job right.  It made me glad that in spite of my failings, they can still find it in their heart to love me and appreciate me.  But it made my heart break because I know that in the not distant future, they will grow up.  And when they grow up, they won't so easily forgive my shortcomings.  They won't so easily look past my lack of patience.  They won't be so willing to show me love when I'm so willing to show them anger.

With all of my heart I want to do better.  I want to be the mom they deserve and need.  I'm trying with all of my might to be patient and loving even when they push me to my absolute limit.  I don't know if I will ever perfect my impatience.  But I hope with everything in me that I can overcome what I consider to be a huge trial before they are old enough to lose their patience with me and realize that maybe I don't deserve their unconditional love.  I will strive each day to do a little bit better than I did the day before in the hopes that one day I will get it right.  And I will find a little bit of comfort in the fact that even though I may not be doing it right, I am at least trying.

What's with us women?

Every once in a while, I post something serious. This is one of those times.  I actually originally started writing this post well over a year ago, but recent thoughts and such have finally prompted me to actually finish and post it.

About 2 years ago I was at stake conference, and it was the one where they do a broadcast. I wish I could remember which General Authority it was that spoke, but I can't remember for the life of me. Which is horrible, because it was an amazing talk.

As he was speaking, it's like he was speaking directly to me and what I needed to hear.  Then he said something that made me immediately take out a pen and paper to write what he said, which is so very rare for me!  Of course by the time I got the pen and paper, I was just hoping that what I actually remembered to write down was anything near what he actually said. What I wrote down was (Satan is) "Trying to divert from womanly/motherly duties by having us focus on our physical attributes."

This (probably very abbreviated) statement really hit me. Everywhere I look, I feel like we are focusing on the physical. Whether it is trying to get in perfect shape after having a baby, or trying to look physically attractive with the clothes we wear. I constantly see pins on Pinterest for "losing 5 lbs quickly", "get flat abs in 5 weeks" or pins for what clothes are most in style. I constantly find myself wanting to make sure I look a certain way hoping that people will accept or like me more. Of course there is nothing wrong with wanting to look presentable, but I can't help but feel like it's something that we've let consume us at times.

To hear that it is Satan's way of trying to divert me from my womanly/motherly duties really struck me. Of all the ways I thought of him trying to divert me from those things, I never considered that as one of them.  And I see now that it's not just wanting to be in shape and wear perfectly styled clothes, but the time I take to figure out what those things are. How much time am I spending online looking for the perfect clothes to wear? How much time do I spend online trying to find the perfect hairstyle? How much time do I spend online seeing what exercises I should be doing to flatten my motherly stomach? I don't know the exact answer, but I know that whatever time that is, it was time spent away from my husband and my children.

Why have we as women become so critical of ourselves?  Why do we think we are ugly or unattractive because our stomachs aren't what they used to be before we had kids?  Why do we not see how badly we are making other women/mothers feel when we constantly criticize our physical appearance when they look like us, too?  Why have we put so much unneeded pressure on ourselves and others to have the "perfect" body?  Why do we start freaking out about our size 2 weeks after having a baby??  Why do we allow celebrities to set the bar for unrealistic expectations of what we should look like?  Why can't our focus be on being healthy and not on being thin??  Why can we not see what thoughts and expectations we are putting into our kids heads when we do all of these things??  And why...WHY do we let these things keep us from being the women and mothers we should be??

I cannot deny the fact that I have feelings of anger (yes, anger) with how much focus is put on our physical appearance these days.  No matter where I go I see people posting and talking about losing weight, wanting to get rid of their "baby pooch", feeling down because they don't look like they used to, being jealous of so and so because they look so much better, and on and on and on.  I'm so done with it.  And while I'm at it, I'm done with people making underhanded compliments about MY physical appearance.

So how about this...
How about we all stop obsessing (Yes, I do believe it has become an obsession) over our physical attributes?  How about we all focus on being healthy?  How about we all just accept ourselves and everyone else for who they are?  How much better would we be as women and mothers if we put half the effort into our children/families/friends as we did into researching and trying to attain the perfect body?

No, none of us come out and say to someone (or at least I hope we don't)  "Gee, your body looks disgusting."  But basically, that's what we are saying by what we say about ourselves, and by other actions.  So can we all just agree to stop?  Please?

Is your daddy a baker?

No, but my grandpa was.

That's juC's favorite pickup line on me.  And it's true, my grandfather was a baker.  And although I would never consider myself even close to being a baker, I do have a love for baking.  Because who doesn't love to eat fresh baked goods?!  Ok, it's more than just that.  I really do enjoy baking.  And it can be very therapeutic.

Up until last year, I'd never ventured into bread baking.  But then I came across a recipe for hot bread that looked so simple, I figured even I could do it.  If there's anything about me you should know, it's that I only do things that are simple and doable, so if I could do it, you could do it.

I was nervous, but I tried it, and it was so tasty.  Fresh out of the oven with some honey on it...oh my word, people!  And the fact that the process is easy and not time consuming is a huge bonus.

Make dough and let it rest for a few.

 Let it rise for an hour, or until it reaches the top of the pan,

 Bake 20 minutes to perfection.

 I kid you not, this picture was taken 10 minutes after the bread was taken out of the oven.

 Because, I kid you not, putting some good honey on it is oh so heavenly.

Thank goodness I have this oven because on this particular day I made 3 full loaves and 4 mini loaves and it took no time at all.

Here is the story behind the recipe shared on the blog post I found and the recipe:

Kimmons, who grew up in West Virginia, learned to make bread by watching her grandmother and neighbor.

"Making homemade bread is more about experience than technique", Kimmons said.

“The people who taught me how to bake bread didn’t check the temperature of the water with a thermometer,” she said. If the water is warm on the wrist, it’s the right temperature for proofing the yeast, and that’s something you don’t learn from a book.

“They just knew what bread felt like,” Kimmons said.

“I just love to bake bread. It relaxes me. It reminds me of growing up, and the smell of hot bread smells like home, a cozy home,” she said.

Kimmons’ recipe is simply called “hot bread” and it has only six ingredients and a few lines of instructions.


Hot Bread
Recipe from the Providence Journal – Carla Kimmons.
2 ¼ cups all-purpose flour (plus extra for kneading)
1 cup warm water
1 package dry yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons melted margarine
1 teaspoon salt

Oven to 375. Grease a loaf pan. 

Combine all the ingredients in a large bowl and mix well. (juC about freaked out when he was watching me make it and I didn't let the yeast rise in water first, but that's not necessary for this!)

Turn the mixture out onto a floured surface. It will be sticky. Knead extra flour into the dough until it is no longer sticky. Form into a ball and let rest 10 minutes. Place the dough in the pan. Let sit in a warm place for 1 hour, or until it rises to the top of the pan. Bake for 20 minutes, or until the top is nicely browned.

Try it people.  

Parents: Those Whose Purpose In Life Is To Torture Children

I remember when I was young thinking that my parents must truly enjoy torturing me since they seemed to do it so often.  Then I grew a little older and thought that I surely must have been wrong.  Parents must love their children too much to torture them.  And then I had children of my own and quickly learned that parents, indeed, have one purpose only--to torture their children.

I have countless examples of how my husband and I personally torture our own children.  This might be good for parents looking for some variety for their own children.

--First we trick our children into saying we are going somewhere fun.  Then we throw some torture in.  "Get your shoes."  Oh, the torture!!  The great part is, it never fails.  No matter how many times you go somewhere, and how many times they have to get their shoes on, it never fails to torture them.

--Going along with the first example, you say you are going somewhere fun.  Then you do the unthinkable.  "Go potty before we go."  WHAT!!??  How dare we make such a request.  Pure torture!

--Also along those same lines.  Once again, going somewhere fun.  Then that part comes where you have to get in the car...and the car seat.  YES!!  I said it!  You HAVE to get in YOUR CAR SEAT!!  Haha!  Tortured again!!

--And then comes the whole reason why you took them to somewhere fun.  "Yes, I took you to Chik-fil-A.  Yes, I got you a meal.  Then a cookie.  THEN I had the audacity to let you play in the playground, all for the soul purpose to fulfill my evil plan to MAKE YOU LEAVE!"  I find this form of torture to be among my favorites.

--There's always going to bed.  This one works better on some kids than others.  But I love the way it takes some by surprise every night.  The look of "You expect me to go to sleep AGAIN!?  How dare you?!"  Well, we know the reason...to torture them!

--Another one that works on some better than others.  The dreaded bath.  Nothing screams torture louder than requesting your child to get clean at any regular interval.  Tortured again!

--I'm not sure about your kids, but one way that I torture them once a week is by clipping their fingernails.  I look forward to that day each week with giddy anticipation.  The look of horror on their faces when I announce that today is the day nails need to be trimmed is well worth being a parent!

--One that stands the test of time is one that gives me pleasure in spite of having to spend money to inflict the torture.  Family picture time!!  The screams and cries of torture are music to our ears.

--When winter rolls around, one of the best forms of torture is to ask your child to wear a coat to keep warm outside.  It screams to your child "I'm so desperate to torture you that I want you to put on yet ANOTHER piece of clothing!"

--I really get the warm fuzzies when I torture my kids by actually wanting to comb their hair.  Torture, torture, torture.

--"What's this meal you call dinner that you expect me to sit and eat every night?"  That's basically how it goes every night for dinner.  The fact that I expect them to eat a meal?  Pure, crazy, torture!

--One of the BEST parts about taking kids to the store is the joy I find in saying "no" when they ask for every toy they see or every treat they see.  I love their cries and fits of rage from that one little word.

--And my absolute favorite form of torturing my kids?  Cleaning!!  "You mean you actually want me to PICK up and PUT AWAY the toys I took out and have been playing with all day!  You're CRAZY!!"  That one just never gets old.

I cannot wait until my kids are older and my ability to torture them widens!

I Had a Birthday, Shout Hooray!

The day before my birthday, I took little jC to a dentist appointment.  The dental assistant said "You look 15.  I thought you were his sister."  She was only 16 years off.  It had been a while since I'd heard a comment like that, so I thought I'd grown out of it.  But it appears that I will forever be looked at as a teenager.  I won't complain about that!

My birthday started out with a birthday greeting and being crowned as the birthday princess.

Then my birthday card.

I couldn't figure out how he managed to find a card specifically for someone turning 31.  Then I realized how sneaky he was.


 I was also left 4 small gifts I was instructed to start opening at 10.  One every 2 hours.
A small key chain flash light...because I light up juC's life.
A pack of ponytail elastics...because he likes when I put my hair up.
A "magic towel"...because I stink and need to take a bath.
And a crystal growing kit...so I can grow my own bling.

The kids were their usual selves.  So it was just a day, except now it was a day as a 31 year old.  Little jC loves birthdays though, so there were happy birthday wishes sprinkled throughout my day.

When juC arrived home from work, he brought my two of my favorites.  Georgetown cupcakes AND a peanut butter cream pie from Wegman's.  (All of which were consumed by yesterday)

 Then it was time for dinner.  Very sadly, one of my favorite places to eat was closed for 2 weeks which meant juC couldn't go pick up some carry out for us.  So I thought it would be a good idea to have some birthday torture by taking the kids to a sit down restaurant for some hibachi.  The super good food totally outweighed the bad of Lula deciding she didn't want to sit by the time it was time for us to eat our dinner.  It was a perfectly delicious birthday dinner.

After dinner, back home we went for my last birthday gift.  I got a new digital camera, bringing my camera total to 4.  I am very happy to finally have a new small camera that actually takes good pictures, and that the battery doesn't pop out of.  

Yay for birthdays!  juC did good.  I tried to convince him that since my birthday was on a Friday, we should celebrate it the whole weekend, but that didn't go over too well.  Maybe next year.

Numbers, Numbers, Numbers

Little jC is a numbers man.  Some people say that all kids his age are interested in numbers, but homeboy is obsessed.  Numbers on calendars, a clock, addresses, ages, phone numbers, speed limits.  If there is a number involved, he wants to know about it.  And having numbers for street names in Utah instead of word names was the most amazing thing.  My favorite question of our trip out there was when we were on the interstate and he asked "What does "9,000 so" mean?"  (9000 South)

So yesterday when he was sitting at the table saying he was working, it wasn't too big of a shock to find out he was making his own calendar.

But there is a strong possibility that I had one of those proud mommy moments that you sometimes get.

He also likes words.  After he learned the alphabet he became obsessed with what sounds each letter made.  And he always wanted to know what letter words started with.  It was great but could be tricky to have a conversation when he kept stopping to say "What letter does table start with?"  But then again, it was fine, since most of our conversations consisted of questions like "What sound does 'n' make?"  I have to admit I'm glad he's well past that phase, and now it's fun to see him writing things.  When he was working yesterday he kept saying something about "jud dot com".  It wasn't until I was checking out his calendar that I found this.

Realizing that he thinks it's "duc com" makes me giggle.

My hope with his number and letter writing skills is that he will soon be able to work out a budget for us and help us stick to it.

Goal Setting.

It appears that at the young ages they are, my kids understand the importance of goals.  (Something that I still don't quite get the importance of at my age.)

They all have some goals they are trying to achieve, but it seems that they are all contradictory to the goals I have.

luC
luC's goal--To see how much food she can shove into her mouth at one time.
my goal--To keep luC from gagging and choking every time she eats.

luC's goal--To take off her diaper every single time she goes down for a nap or bedtime.
my goal--To not have to wash sheets every day.

luC's goal--To see how hard she can squeeze cC.
my goal--To keep cC in one piece.

luC's goal--To see if she can set the world record for loudest scream.
my goal--To keep my hearing until I'm in my 90s.

jC
jC's goal--To stay awake, all the time.
my goal--To have a well rested child.

jC's goal--To put up a fight about everything, even if it's something he actually wants to do.
my goal--To do fun things with my kids even if they aren't cooperating.

jC's goal--To make luC miserable.
my goal--To keep each of my children happy.

cC
cC's goal--(just like his older brother) To stay awake, all the time.
my goal--To have a well rested baby so as to have a well rested me.

cC's goal--To crawl around the kitchen floor getting his footed sleepers dirty, proving that the floor isn't as clean as I thought it was.
my goal--To keep cC out of footed sleepers when he's crawling around so that I don't see how dirty my kitchen floor actually is.

cC's goal--To get into everything he can possibly get to.
my goal--To try to keep up with keeping the house baby proofed.

My husband doesn't like to be left out of anything.  So he has taken it upon himself to also set some goals that are contradictory to mine.

juC
juC's goal--To never replace the toilet paper on the holder.
my goal--To not be the only one replacing the toilet paper on the holder.

juC's goal--To avoid doing the dishes at all costs.
my goal--To avoid doing the dishes at all costs.

juC's goal--To see if he is capable of completely tuning out a crying baby 24 hours a day.
my goal--To be sane.

The Ugly Truth

 This has become our kitchen more often than not.  Why is it so impossible to keep the kitchen clean?  It gets to the point that it is so much that I don't even want to deal with it.  So I don't.  That's kind of the way the rest of our house has gotten as well.  It's too overwhelming so I do nothing.  The last couple of months of my pregnancy with cC, I somehow found an enormous amount of energy to get some major cleaning and organizing done in our house.  So maybe the answer to this problem is to have another baby already?

hahahahaaaahahaaahaha.


Today I needed to go to Target for diapers.  What I got was yet another dose of reality that jC would be starting kindergarten soon and that it depresses me immensely.  He saw the backpacks and lunch boxes and wanted to pick his out.  He was excited, I was holding back tears.

I know a lot of people think that all day kindergarten is better than anything, EVER.  I am not one of those people.  jC has school from 8:20 to 3:35.  (That's not including travel time if he takes the bus)  Am I really one of the few people in this world that feel like my 5 year old being away from home almost as long as my 35 year old husband during the day is not even close to normal??  The thought alone makes me want to puke.  Don't get me wrong, I think school will be great for him, and I look forward to slightly more peace for a portion of the day.  But 4 hours or so would be plenty!  School starts September 4, and in my personal opinion, that day is coming way too soon.

hahahahahahaaahahaa.
(Sorry, still laughing about the having another baby now comment.)

Penny For Your Thoughts?

luC is the worst, THE WORST, about putting everything in her mouth.  It drives me absolutely crazy.  And it caught me off guard, because aside from the typical baby phase jC went through doing it, it was something he never did.  After I realized luC wasn't growing out of that phase, I came to appreciate jC's desire not to do that even more.

That's why a couple of weeks ago when I noticed jC had found some change and taken it into his room for quiet time I didn't think I needed to worry.  I did have a brief moment of "Not a chance you're playing with that in your room behind a closed door." but then I thought "Give the boy some freedom.  He doesn't put things in his mouth and he likes to count it."

So there I was, enjoying the peace and quiet rarely found in our house on a Sunday afternoon.  (Shout out to quiet/nap time.)  Then I heard jC's door open and him frantically call, "Mooom?"  The poor boy looked scared out of his mind and he told me...a penny went down his throat!  I hate the feeling of panic I get in moments like this.  He seemed ok, but was saying his throat hurt, which made me worry it was stuck in there.  In an effort to lighten the mood, I briefly explained to him how the penny would eventually escape.  Nothing lightens a possible medical emergency like poop talk.

After fetching juC from his nap, and further examination (and a google search from juC about kids swallowing pennies), it appeared the penny had found a temporary resting place in jC's stomach.

Shortly after, jC and I were resting on the couch while he enjoyed his favorite activity of watching me play Candy Crush.  He informed me that after I was finished with the game, he'd go to the bathroom, but he sounded concerned.

"Will the money be in my pee?"

I'm just going to keep trying to find the humor in that question, instead of thinking about what could have happened if it had gotten lodged in his throat and he couldn't breath while I thought he was quietly playing in his room.
Being a mom is too scary!

Allow Me To Reintroduce Ourselves

You may have noticed the effort I have made the last few weeks to actually blog.

I thought this would be a good time to reintroduce ourselves.

First, there is my husband, juC.  He is half way through his 30s (poor thing) and works at a job as an employee doing work.  In his free time, he enjoys reading really long books about secret spies in the government, stalking people on facebook (I'm going to get in trouble for that one, but how can you be mad at someone for telling the truth??), and driving me crazy.  He is really good at making breakfast for dinner, grocery shopping, and taking the kids off my hands so I can take naps.

 Then comes our first dear child, little jC.  He will be 5 in September and starting kindergarten.  It makes me want to cry.  He is all about cars, blocks, and numbers.  He loves little cC with all his heart and loves to torture liitle luC with all his heart. He loves going on adventures, which means he hates when it's time to leave adventures.  He also loves to dance.  And when I say loves, I mean LOVES.  jC is proof that the last 5 years of my life have gone by insanely fast.

 Next up is our little luC.  And when I say little, I mean little.  (She is 2.5 years old and is in the 5th percentile for her weight, so that gives you an idea of just how little I mean.)  But don't let her littleness fool you.  She has a massive personality.  She is sweet, compassionate, and full of love.  She is also ornery, sassy, and impatient.  She cannot be convinced to do anything she doesn't want to do.  Unless you cry, thenn you can sucker her in.  (Something jC learned all too well!)  She gives the best hugs.  In-the-entire-world!!  She loves to play with dolls and read books.  And knock cC over.

Which brings us to our newest addition.  Little cC.  And by little, I mean the youngest in the family, not little like luC little.  In fact, he's only a couple pounds lighter than her!  cC is a big old ball of happiness.  Except when he's teething, then he's a big old ball of crankiness.  He really has the best smile that quickly turns my frowns upside down.  His favorite thing to do (aside from sleeping when I want him to be awake, or being awake when I want him to be asleep) is to crawl around the house looking for things to stick in his mouth.  Which means I often find him chewing on someones shoes.  He's a sweet boy!

And last of all, it's me, aniC.  A nearly 31 year old stay at home mom, that feels like a 14 year old that got stuck playing a game of house 5 years ago that won't stop.  Seriously, my life does not feel like my life, but like I'm just going along pretending.  I keep waiting for someone to say "Ok, you can stop now." but apparently this is the real deal.  I also feel like I'm stuck between wanting a million and one babies and feeling like I'm going to lose what's left of my sanity at any minute.  So I'm just plugging along.  Doing my best to be a mediocre wife and a competent mother.  (I've found it's easier to succeed if you set your standards low.)

So, that's us.

--And if any of my loyal readers that always looked forward to "kitty Thursday" are wondering about sweet little, izC, I have bad news for you, good news for her.  izC has a new home.  One with no kids to torture her.  I miss her tremendously, but I don't miss constantly harassing my kids for constantly harassing her.

The Important Questions

It's funny how when you are dating someone, you ask questions that you THINK are important to know if you are compatible with the person and if marriage would work out.  Too bad all of the answers to those questions end up changing through time and experience.
How many kids do you want?
Where do you want to live?
What baby names do you like?
All questions I learned had very changeable answers, depending on the year.  And they really just aren't all that important.

Now that I have kids, I realize what questions I should have asked.  The ones that are actually important. And some other questions that have nothing to do with kids, but I really wish I would have known.
(Please note that it doesn't necessarily mean that it would have changed my mind about marrying my dear, sweet, amazing, loving juC. It just would have been nice to prepare myself mentally. Nor does it mean that these questions would have had negative answers.  But let's just say with most of them, I wouldn't be thinking I should have asked them if it hadn't manifested itself somehow in our dear, sweet, amazing, loving children.)

-How bad is your eyesight?  At what age did you need glasses?
-Did you often get in trouble at school?
-Do you set your alarm unreasonably early and not get up when it goes off, and use the snooze button often? (I knocked out his snooze button usage right away!!)
-Were you a bed wetter as a child?
-Were you a good sleeper as a baby and child?
-Did it take hours for your mom to get you to sleep?
-Were you a picky eater?
-Are you or any of your blood relatives psycho?  (Just to clarify, none of his are, but I should have thought to ask.  He should have thought to ask, too.  Because just because none of his are doesn't mean none of mine are.)(If you are part of my family and reading this, I'm totally not referring to you.)
-How is your snoring?
-Were you a big baby at birth?  (Thankfully, he wasn't.  He was actually quite small.  But it's not something I thought to ask until I was pregnant, and came to terms with the fact that the baby had to come out.)
-How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?
-Is your family known for making cute babies?  (I actually didn't need to ask that question.  His nieces and nephews were the perfect evidence.)

Just a few questions I'd never thought about.  So perhaps if you have any single friends or family that are looking for "the one" you should share this list with them so they know what they should really be asking.
But, it really doesn't matter, I suppose.   I chose unbelievably well, even if I wasn't presented with all of the facts.