Hansen Family

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2012-01-06T13:18:00.001-08:00

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2012-01-05T17:51:00.001-08:00

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2012-01-03T09:38:00.001-08:00

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2012-01-02T10:05:00.001-08:00

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2011-12-29T08:13:00.001-08:00

Just posted at: agirlnamedgay.blogspot.com

New Address

2011-12-28T10:48:00.000-08:00

Hi all. I'm going to start posting on a new site:

agirlnamedgay.blogspot.com

Once I figure it out, I'm going to have this site feed directly into the other one, but I'm struggling with the tech side of it. Shocker. So if you want, just set your reader to that page.

xoxo gay

Dec 26

2011-12-26T19:45:00.000-08:00

.......no more counting down. Unless we start all the way at 365.....

As expected:

Dallin and Porter loved Christmas. (skateboard, shoes, jacket, umbrella)
Deeter took one look at the present Santa left him (a train track already set up) and never looked back, not even to come open more presents.
Kaia slept through it all. (cabbage patch doll)

Not expected:

I learned this year to throw perceived notions out the window: I'll take sunny and 75 over a white Christmas. Every year.

I conceded to go to church on Christmas- should be an obvious, unfortunately it wasn't. Guess what? Loved it. Wish every Christmas would fall on Sunday. Felt good to eat my words.

Santa pulled through and brought magic.... magic eight balls. Magic worked in my favor. Dallin ended Christmas night very tired and......in tears. He had asked for an Ipod and headphones (???) and didn't get any. We sat cuddled on the couch and I was just letting him cry it out. He suddenly popped up. He grabbed his magic. "I'm going to ask my eight ball if I can have an Ipod and headphones." I let out a long breath, feeling pretty defeated, preparing for the next round of sobs. He gave a shake shake as he asked the question. An answer popped up: outlook is not good. "Well...I'm asking again. " So....he gave a shake shake as he asked the question. And an answer popped up: Definitely not. We both sat there bewildered, Dallin tensing up, me slowly relaxing. "I'm asking ONE MORE TIME." Shake shake. Question. Reply: I doubt it.
And just like that the problem was resolved. Without me saying A SINGLE WORD.

And now.....the real vacation begins. No obligations, no mile-long to-do list, no school. Fingers crossed for no rain, no snotty attitudes, no sickness, and no whining. Oh yeah, and lots of eating out, and going out with friends, and laughing, and........stairs.

Strong Arm

2011-12-23T15:53:00.000-08:00

I hear all kinds of unfair bargaining going on in my house. Most of the time I bite my tongue and let them develop their negotiating skills without any tutorial. But sometimes I just can't help myself. And this usually occurs by butting in and helping Porter 'know his rights' against the power of his older brother.

I don't know whose been mentoring Porter, nor do I know if he knows he walked away with a killer deal but today I became aware of one of the most recent barters. Porter walked into my room wearing Dallin's shorts, asking me to help him. I said, "Oooohhh, did you ask Dallin if you could wear those?" Yes, boys have this issue as a point of conflict also believe it or not, and recently it's been more present in our home. It seems, though, the boys have next to squash it already. "Oh yea, we made a deal," Porter said. "I get to wear any of his clothes I want whenever I want. Except for his Colorado jersey {which conveniently Porter has a twinner one} and his Colorado bracelets. And he gets to play my guitar everyday." Ummmmm, yes. The guitar he received when he was ONE year old. And in the past year has only been of interest to him for ONE day. Must have been the same ONE day Dallin took interest in it as well. And in exchange, Porter got a new wardrobe. It looks like we have a negotiator on our hands- he knows the secret....timing, timing, timing.

We're getting excited for this weekend...ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I put it in the predictions folder last Friday {thanks for the concept, Jono} that I think Yosh has done well this year. He's real hit and miss. One year an all-edge brownie pan, the next year a trip to Paris. So you never know. Now I wish I could remember exactly what happened for me to add this note to the folder, but I can't remember anything specific. That might be for the better. Because then based on whether or not I'm right, I would be looking for clues next year to make a judgment call, but Yosh would know what I was or wasn't looking for, and then try to act or not act accordingly. Which would totally throw off the authenticity of my judgment. You get what I'm saying, right?

The kids are going to be in Christmas heaven {and completely self-entertained for hours, inducing mama heaven!} and I'm so ready to see their cute faces with looks of glee glued on!

Merry Christmas!

Where's the Magic?

2011-12-22T11:12:00.000-08:00

Does the magic of Christmas really lie in your heart or lie to your heart?

If the magic of Christmas lies in your heart, then "The List" I received:

Christmas List

the Force

magic

crystals

(Which I of course instantly translated to read:)

Christmas List

skateboard

shoes

jacket

......then the list I received will be accepted with absolutely no question. I am sure there is some connection between list 1 and 2 and since I believe, the kids will, too. And we'll all be happy and satisfied. They won't pout like spoiled children because the requested list wasn't fulfilled to the tee. And I won't have to tell them that no there's really NO SUCH THING as the Force, magic, OR crystals (the magic kind at least.) And- heaven forbid- I have to tell them there's no such thing as....that one guy.

But if the magic of Christmas lies to the heart, well then by golly, we are in full Christmas spirit over here at my house. Because it has turned me into a lying machine and I AM NOT A LIAR {except when door-to-door salesmen stop by, then one or two might slip out.} I have a real problem with this. I hate feeling like I'm feeding my kids a load of crap every time anything on the subject comes up. I'm avoiding eye contact, mumbling off unfinished sentences and doing everything short of running out of the house- screaming- with my arms raised in surrender. If they had just an ounce of innate lie detection, I would of been a goner a long time ago. Now don't go "Bah hum-buggin" me for all this. I have NOT let the cat out of the bag and I don't intend to. I'm all about the real meaning of Christmas, the idea of increased giving but my gosh there's gotta be some way to remedy my poor conscience and let her enjoy the Holiday too instead of being trodden down with guilt. In an attempt to relieve pressure, I've already reduced Santa down to the man who brings ONE gift. Shoot, I can't remember if he fills the stockings or not. I have about 3 days to figure out if that's him or us........ ONE gift from Santa. The rest from mom and dad.

And that doesn't take away from the magic of Christmas at all. When else in the year do you have brownies and cookies and treats every time you turn around? And twinkling lights dancing to your Christmas playlist as you drive around the town admiring the adorably decorated houses? And gifts LOADED under the tree just for you? There's no way to disguise the magic of Christmas season. And just in case Santa is the underlying thread that ties all this together for the kids, I'm gonna keep my lips zipped, deal with a guilty conscience, and just dream of singing "The Magic of Christmas......lies in MOM and DAD."

If you're feeling chubby right now.....

2011-12-20T07:42:00.000-08:00

....raise your hand. I know, me too.

When was the last time you tried a new food- when visiting the Indian restaurant down the street, or the Thai one next door; it could be when traveling to a different country, continent, or whatever. Shoot, you don't even have to go to a different country. Travel down to the south and your body'll think it's somewhere out of this world. So will your ears. But the point is...the food. When was the last time you tried a new food... and the introduction didn't go off seamlessly? It left your stomach feeling a little torn up and probably even landed you in the bathroom with a 'come back for free all day' pass.

Well that's about how my poor body was feeling yesterday. And the foreign cuisine was..........apples, oranges, broccoli, grilled chicken....all kinds of crazy food.

I should've done this post a week ago for my own sake, because that's when the food comatose started. Because of the poor food choices. And the lack of self-control. And abundant sweets every time I turned around. And a strong commitment to never say ~~never~~ no.

So in no particular order, I'm reminding myself of a few of my secrets on how to feel good, look good, and still partake in everything edible....especially during the Holidays.

A good friend introduced this book to me and it has become my only go-to health book. If you've ever had more than one conversation with me, chances are I've referred to this book. It preaches the principles of listening to your body and loving yourself and creating a healthy (not guilty) relationship between you and food. Take a glimpse at what's inside here if you want.
{I secretly wish I had a stack of this luscious read sitting around so I could gift it every chance I got.}

DON'T SKIP MEALS- ESP BREAKFAST
We know all meals are necessary and it's basically been drilled into our little minds from a young age how important breakfast is. Quite a few days during the last couple weeks, we've had a reoccurring scene. I don't eat breakfast- bc my stomach is hurting from the night before's poor choices. Somewhere between 11 and 12, I'm famished. Anything in my reach is inhaled with no thought for what, how much, etc. I need food and I need it now. And a lot of it. And then at 4:00....repeat. If our bodies know they can count on all meals at more or less the same time of day, they are content, calm, secure, FUELED machines. We need to give our them a little bit of routine and dependability to work with so they don't FREAK OUT!

As my everyday mentality, I take the approach of concentrating on what to eat, instead of what not to eat. I eat veggies all day long. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks...veggies. I'm kinda exaggerating but only kind of. If I have the option of veggies, I take it every time. And I add in other fresh foods- chicken, almonds, yogurt, and sometimes even fruit (not my strong point). I focus on getting those things in my body and whatever hunger remains, I fill it with WHATEVER I WANT. Oreos, frozen yogurt, cookies, Root Beer floats...whatever sounds good at the time. S'mores with Reeses. I'm not lying. I eat it all. {Revert back to Intuitive Eating book. This will teach you to listen to your body and OBEY when it says STOP- YOU'RE FULL.}
I've never been good with commitment- such as committing to eat NONE of something or only 1 sweet/day- so this approach works great for me. Shoot, have your cake and eat it too!

GET YOUR WORK-OUT ON!
Exercise is good for the mind, body, and soul. Most people know that but if you don't, I'm not lying. "Exercise" is an open definition that can be custom to each individual. But do something that makes you feel good about yourself and feel strong and gets that heart a-pumping. SPOILER ALERT: Everytime you finish a good workout- whether 10 minutes or 2 hours- you walk away feeling empowered...like you-can-conquer-the-world empowered. Go move your body!
{I've been dying to do a post targeted towards beginners. I need to get it done!}

So here's to getting back on track... Treating our bodies good so that they can actually enjoy the {smaller amounts of?!!} CRAP that we're putting into them!

If you're not wanting food to be your demise,
Fingers are crossed to maintain a similar size,
These are the tips that I strongly advise,
That'll make you happy, healthy, and wise!
~a girl named Gay

8 years ago today, I married.......

2011-12-19T09:48:00.000-08:00

..........a stranger. I remember calling my older brother to tell him I was getting married and his exasperated response was, "To who? Cesar?" {the guy I was dating before}. It'll remain a mystery if he really didn't know who my current boyfriend was or if he was making a point. But after 3 1/2 months of dating, 2 months of engagement...he was all mine. Thank goodness that the both of us apparently have a knack for picking strangers.... who would end up being an impeccable companion? I'll take it.

I was thinking back to "the beginning" and felt myself getting a little embarrassed at the immaturity of the relationship, our shallow understanding of the inclusive definition of marriage at the time. I recognized the progress we've made since then. I think in doing that, it sparked an 'ah-ha!' moment...it wasn't immaturity per se all those years ago, it was simply the starting line. If I looked back and didn't feel a comparative sense of immaturity and shallowness, THAT would be a problem. Because it would hint at a lack of growth. And that's really my goal in all of this...growth, slowly pressing forward toward a better me, a better us. So there's absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about! It's not so important our current stationary point on the graph, but rather the direction we're headed. I think the path we're on has us moving upward and- with no comparison necessary- that leaves me satisfied. That, and the fact...that he's definitely no longer a stranger.

{PS Doesn't it kinda look like Yosh is coming at me with a windpipe or something?!!}

{PSS You're not getting sick of this sweater yet, are you?}

FORWARD MOVEMENT, PEOPLE...THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT!
Of course we'll be celebrating. At home. With 4 kids. And cereal and milk. Unless one of us has a baby-sitter and surprise up their sleeve. I don't. But Yosh, you still got time...!
OH YEAH, AND HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO US!

I'm no Fashionista....

2011-12-17T10:03:00.000-08:00

...and I'm sure not a model. But a girl's got to get dressed and might as well enjoy doing it.

Christmas season = parties = getting out of a t-shirt and jeans.
Ok, busted. Maybe not the jeans part but I ditched the t-shirt and tried cleaning up the look to more than everyday casual. Wanna know another one of my unique talents? I can casualize anything. An outfit, an event, a situation. You name it, I'll casualize it. Look that word up. You'll find it's not there. Created, incorporated, and coined...by a girl named Gay.

On to the parties. Numero uno. A church dinner party.

Perhaps the animal print scarf makes it look somewhat sophisticated? {and hides the jeggings?}

Party numero dos. Work party at the bowling alley.

Well let me tell you something....if I was feeling good wearing it Wednesday night, there's no reason to not wear it Thursday night also. With different accessories of course. Whole different outfit if you ask me {and hopefully anyone who saw me both nights would completely agree...}

And can we not forget to comment on the cheerleader-like smile? You all, I never made it to that place in high school and perhaps a little glimpse of living that out comes from time to time through the smile.

Party numero tres. The after party.

A friend's 40th birthday celebration. I figured it was a little more dressy so I got out of my jeans and into my workout leggings. Are you sensing a pattern here? Must wear one piece that's already been worn at a previous party.

And after the party it's the hotel lobby....

Just kidding just kidding. A little R Kelley from back in the days just took over for a small second.

But we're back.

Hope everyone's enjoying their parties, finding something fun to wear, and feeling H-O-T in whatever it is you choose. And just remember...casual can be hot too!

Post-edit note: I've added a little box in the sidebar to ease my conscience about "not finishing conversations"! Ashley, there's the answer to where I got the stockings.

Santa Monica 4th st stairs

2011-12-15T10:49:00.000-08:00

I've only been hearing about them for next to forever.

I pulled up to the spot all fresh and peppy. I found myself in the midst of other pansies all huffing and puffing, drenched in sweat. Have these people never worked out before? We're just running a few stairs here. So, I took my place in line-
Wait wait wait. Stop right there. In line? Really? To climb stairs? For fun? This doesn't make sense.
Anyway, there I was ready to make my debut on the infamous Santa Monica 4th st stairs. And I take off, conquering those stairs one at a time. Only slowing to wait for a gap to pass the slow pokes and wishing I had some type of a horn to warn them out of my way. I went for the pass and made sure they knew they were getting passed- wishing I had a way to advertise the fact that I'm also a first timer none-the-less. I felt like yelling, "All night long baby...all night long" just to rub it in even deeper. Instead I just breathed steady and swung my arms like a sprinter. Which was probably defeating the desire to have them know I was a first-timer. Because I'm sure I looked real professional.
I made it to the top, winded but proud. Whoa whoa whoa....this wasn't the top? Follow the curve, Gay Gay. There's another set. But I'm young and fresh and peppy. Another set can't defeat me. So I regrouped as I walked to the first step and took off, admittedly as a slower pace. I reach in my bag of tricks for a survival tactic. And start counting the stairs, "1.2.3.4......" This would usually be distracting...but I reach somewhere in the 30's,- panting like a dog in heat- look up to find the finish line. Which proved to be a huge mistake. I was met with a view of stairs....that had no ending. So I slow even more but am holding on to that inkling of determination. And to the fact that I'm a first-timer. "I mean, how was I to know? This is only my first time. This is pretty good for a beginner, right?"
I shouldn't have wasted an ounce of energy hoping people knew I was a first-timer- that cocky sprint up the first half-set had first-timer written all over it.
By the time I reached the real top, jello thighs had already been achieved. Which proved to be a bit of a hiccup on getting this body back down the stairs. Walking down a steep set of stairs with NUMB legs feels anything but natural. Ripped that security blanket right out of my hands.
And to think that I had committed to doing this 3x. I'm sure it comes as no surprise to hear that by round #3 I was strategically taking my place behind the 65-year-old with heavy metal blaring from his head phones, praying I'd be able to keep up. And then if these legs gave out on me- as was a real possibility- and I fell face first that I puh-lease wouldn't bring him down with me. Prayers were answered and we all survived.

{On the way home I for real felt like I was going to throw up. I don't remember ever feeling like that after working out. Combine it with the crazy, turn-y canyon roads I was passenger on for a whole 2 minutes, and I was done in. This is us pulled over, jacket stripped bc I'm hot as a meno-pausing mama, and needing nothing less than fresh air. I heard Christy shuffling around as I was hanging my head out the window. I assumed she was checking her emails or maybe freeing her hands to kindly hold my hair back when the vomiting started. Huh uh. Shout out to a girl always looking for the next story. She thought I was getting ready to puke and ....pulled out the camera to document. Sorry to disappoint...we evaded the vomiting. And she didn't catch me w my head out the window}

The Santa Monica 4th St stairs. I finally did them.

Truth be told, they did me. And did me in.

Tell me you've found yourself in a similar predicament before........
That I'm not the only one whose blood is drenched with pride and ignorance running through the same vein...

Puppy Love

2011-12-14T12:55:00.000-08:00

Yosh: "Oh I love this girl."

Me: "A lot or a little?"

Yosh: "A lot," all sultry like.

Me: "More or less than Kaia?"

Yosh: ..................................

...........................................

...............*silence*................

I'm in a losing battle, folks.

Does the puppy love ever wear off or is it here to stay?

Tis the Season...

2011-12-13T09:00:00.000-08:00

...to start receiving the old owner's Christmas cards. Year number 3. We still have some stragglers that refuse to accept the fact that they moved. Thankfully only less than a mile away. So maybe we'll spread the Christmas spirit and once again deliver the cards to them instead of the trash. Don't judge me for being honest.

So guess what baby #4 brought? Permission to get personalized stockings to keep for the rest of our lives. For whatever reason, I wouldn't even consider getting matching monogrammed anything til the fam was complete. Please be complete. And if it's not, baby #5 don't hate me for having a mismatched stocking.

Don't you love coming up with fun little gifts for Xmas? When an idea naturally comes to me, I love it. If one doesn't... well then no one gets a fun little gift. We're hit and miss in this house. That's one thing you can depend on us for.

This year I did s'more kits. Obviously inspired by the addition of our fire pit out back. Is that a little weird? We get a fire pit, I buy you gear. Any get-togethers will come with the reminder "BYOS...bring your own s'mores stuff." {Yosh I know what you were just thinking right there...no cussin on my blog!}

And ps....If you don't get a Christmas card from us, it's probably cuz we sent it to your old address. Hope your new residents are as nice as us!

tid-bits

2011-12-12T10:55:00.000-08:00

Does 10 1/2 months qualify for 12ish months? Because I'm sure I read something very professional that said "Babies should start drinking cow's milk at 12ish months". I know, very loose language. But I went with it and am hoping I'm not jumping the gun. I wish you could have seen Kaia with her first bottle of whole milk. She took a few swigs, pulled the bottle out of her mouth, looked at it, and..... literally giggled. Capture that on film and you have a commercial that sells itself. But...I think it gave her the Diarrhea word so we're gonna hold off a bit longer.

Why is Deeter's talking so much fun right now? Well he's a great talker with a great vocabulary but....he's only 2 1/2. Which means context is usually off...which means we do a lot of laughing at/with him. Love that lately when I say, "deeeeter, I love you," he says, "Yea you do."

Porter's teacher told me that the other day he was drawing a stick figure on their discussion board. Porter got all excited and said, "I know what that is. That's a missionary......" No one knew what he was talking about...except the teacher. So he went ahead and drew on a name tag and let that little stick figure be a missionary.

So, I don't know if it is just me, but I am getting the hugest kick out of Dallin's upcoming winter performance. Take a sneak peek:

A proud day in the life of Adam Sandler. I can't imagine that when he was recording his spoof that he thought it would find it's way into mainstream public school music performances. But here it is- 2011- being sung by the masses {ok, well at least in my little town}, representing the Jewish nation. I would of never guessed that in a million years! So tell me I'm not alone....this is hi-larious, right?!!

why i blog

2011-12-09T12:14:00.000-08:00

It's a relevant question being as I've decided to move it up on the totem pole of priorities. As I read my list, I wonder why it wasn't at the top sooner.....

1)Truth be told, every since I started blogging........I subconsciously think in blog posts. Weirdest thing ever.

2) It's cheap therapy. These last couple months of consistent blogging have rid me of weight I didn't know I carried around everyday and has also infused happiness into my veins.

3) I remember a couple years ago realizing this was what I had to offer my kids and family. I don't scrapbook, I don't do great with taking candid pictures, I barely decorate for the Holidays, etc. There's a lot of things I'm not good at it. But through these notes, they'll know and understand their Mom's life better, which will in turn help them to know their childhood. Because right now, they ARE my life. Recording life is what I can offer them.

4) This is my medium for touching life; life that is all-consuming and constant and passionate and enveloping. So much so that I have trouble taking it in. And appreciating it. And remembering why it is so amazing. But I want to remember it and appreciate it and soak it up....so I write. It's the tool that allows me to reach out and touch moments... and thoughts... and insights that are whizzing past me in the blink of an eye. It provides the clarity for me to search out these moments that capture the life I'm trying to create- to hold my focus on what I choose to. To remember those brewing thoughts in this mind of mine. To make sense of problems I'm trying to solve. Writing becomes my net, to catch the beauty of life in my hand and admire it for as long as I want. And then go back a week later, a month later....and admire it again. It gifts me this time and time again.

5) I didn't get the draw for my number 1 pick... to come to Earth as a hip-hop dancer. Fortunately, choice #2 is working out alright....a writing Mom.

DO WHAT YOU LOVE. LOVE WHAT YOU DO.

APRON UP

2011-12-07T22:48:00.000-08:00

Can I just tell you it is a frozen food kind of week. I say that as if the rest of my weeks aren't like this, but truth be told, we're probably not far off from par. Maybe the difference is by Monday I already had thrown in the towel. Now don't you for one second think frozen dinner sacrifices deliciousness. Huh uh. Not necessary. I take any of these frozen dinners, add a fresh something or the other to it, and you would have thought Applebee's just delivered to your house.

First up, we got TJ's (Trader Joe's) gnocchi. They also have a cheese variety that we prefer. These things are SO good. I'm talking so good that one night when we had people over for dinner, I had made these for the kids instead of our "adult" food. Well, before the night was over all the parents were oooohhhing and aaahhhhing about how amazing these gnocchi were. Now I don't know if that has more to say about the quality {or lack of!} of the adult food or the quality of this frozen dinner...but it's a keeper. For sure.

Not to be outdone by TJ's gourmet flatbread pizza. Wild mushroom & truffle? No, I am not kidding. Luxury at your table in 6-8 minutes.

Every time alcohol starts calling my name, I reach for Jack Daniel's beef brisket, generously distributed by Costco. Microwave this for 5 minutes, throw it on a fresh hamburger bun or eat it as an open-faced sandwich on a piece of toast....either way you won't be disappointed.

Some other must-haves I'm discovering for the house. So I'll have you know that I always thought I wasn't a fan of Ranch dressing. GASP. I finally found the nerve to mention this to my avid Ranch-loving friend a couple years ago and she handled the situation very maturely. Instead of cutting off our friendship right then and there, she breathed deeply and calmly informed me that I wasn't a fan of store-bought Ranch, but that I did like restaurant Ranch. Well by golly, she was right. Don't know how she knew that about me. But in the last couple months I stumbled on a Ranch that has passed the test and become a house staple. The same friend was at my house partaking of my veggie tray and stopped dead in her tracks to get more info on this Ranch. She approved. And yes, it was store bought. And side bonus- super low calories and fat. Yea baby, drench those veggies!

This next item will become a staple....these pistachio nutmeats {really? do we have to call them nutmeats? a little unappetizing...}. Turn a salad from mediocre to out-of-this-world with just a shakey-shake from this bag. Amazing. I kid you not.

Now you would think with eating out of my freezer all week that my grocery bill was next to nothing. Incorrect. This bag FULL of chocolate did not pay for itself. And you're just looking at the top layer. Take your pick of this goodness....and BAKE. You all, I don't know what has happened to me but I feel like Betty Crocker herself has come back from the dead {is she dead?} and taken residence in MY BODY. I am doing nothing but baking this week. By choice. Which is probably why we need to eat all these frozen dinners. No time to cook, I'm baking like a mad woman.

You need 10 dozen cookies? I'm your girl. A thousand pretzel hugs? Done and done. Brownies? Reeses? More cookies? Move over and let me get my apron on. I got work to do.

{all my frozen cookie dough balls waiting to get thrown in the oven on Saturday}

Wow, all this talking about food and baking got me a little too excited. I'm going to go on ahead and calm myself down. But if you're looking for more baking and less cooking, take some of these suggestions and you'll be happy as a clam that barely cooked at all.

Birthday BUST

2011-12-07T11:15:00.000-08:00

How would I describe myself in most situations? Calm, cool, collected. One place I am NEVER those three things...the Sprint store. What is it about dealing with cell phone companies that comPLEtely sends me over the edge. Every. Single. Time. It's embarrassing. And hopeless. Please tell me you kind of feel the same?

Yesterday, I threw Yosh's iphone 4S at him. "Happy Birthday. You better like it." Why the lack of enthusiasm? Oh don't worry, Sprint had already told him what he was getting for his birthday... 5 days early. Totally busted the surprise. And all my hard work. I wasn't shocked at how it ended after everything I've been through with them these past couple weeks. Including the day before erasing a message off Yosh's voice-mail that would have ruined the surprise 6 days early instead of 5.

I racked my brain and came up with a great gift for Yosh's birthday- trade in his crappy barely working Blackberry for the Iphone. I called Sprint to see if he was eligible for an upgrade- which I knew he wasn't- but hey, it never hurts to check. Somewhere in that conversation, the lady tells me he's eligible for $150 off. Oh really? Great. I double check, and triple check, and ask her if it's noted so that when I go into the store they'll know. She says it's all in the account. See, it never hurts to ask. {Thank you, AJ, for that life lesson.}

A week and a half later I go to the store. With two babies in tow. But I've already done all the footwork so this is going to be a piece of cake. Right? A salesperson helps me right away, we go through the story, and.......he says he sees nothing like that in the account. That I will have to call. So I sit myself on the ground- still calm, with a smile on my face- go into mom mode, entertaining 2 kids while making a 20 minute phone call. In the Sprint store. To Sprint. We go through, once again, the same conversation. The guy does in fact see in the notes where the lady told me we had $150 towards a phone. Which is weird because that policy is gone but of course they will honor what she said. My sales guy is listening to this conversation. He hears what they've told me. My sales guy just needs to call account services from the store finish things off.
My guy calls and.........tells me there's nothing he can do. No, in store he cannot get me that $150 off. Can I tell you I was about to blow a gasket? Like, that quick. Cool, calm, collected to ready to EXPLODE in 2 seconds flat. What kind of a hold does Sprint have on me? OH it's going to make me CRAZY.

He literally will do nothing to remedy the situation. Doesn't even try. Doesn't suggest another avenue to make things right. He won't even look me in the eye. Just stares off and kinda says sorry. So I leave FIRED UP. And I'm kinda shocked. I thought I had taken all the necessary steps to avoid this disaster. {Yes it was a disaster and don't try to tell me otherwise even tho we're only talking about a phone}. Pretty quick, I'm on the phone with customer service demanding a manager. And that's when Brad enters my life. Sweet Brad who knows how to calm a completely erratic, enraged, WRONGED woman. We went through the same conversation AGAIN, he asked a couple more questions and before I knew it, this sanity-saver was telling me for $45 I could buy out the rest of my contract and get my upgrade. Bottom line, my $650 iphone was now only going to cost me $250. What would you do to save $400? Apparently, a near-heart attack is valued at a low $400 to me. PULL IT TOGETHER, GAY. Although I really want to say PULL IT TOGETHER, SPRINT. And maybe I did tell them they needed to do that....more than once...

Welcome back, Saturdays

2011-12-06T14:38:00.001-08:00

For fear of messing with any Elf voodoo, this is where Henry spent the rest of his day. The boys found him this morning on our doorknob, which I thought was absolutely brilliant. Apparently, his gymnastic skills weren't quite up to par and pretty fast he found himself face first on the ground. Man up, Henry....we need a STRONG elf in our house!

Great news...starting this week we have our Saturdays back! And Thursday nights! And Friday nights!!! Yes, football and basketball season have come to an end.

It was sweet- the coaches handed out the trophies individually and said something about that player.

Basketball:

Porter- to our strong player who was making shots from way back out by the end of the season.

Dallin- to our player who did it all- dribbled, shot, rebounded.

Football:

Porter- this young man was not even on the team at the start of the year. He started coming to practice, even if his brother couldn't make it, and turned into a good player and someone that was important to the team.

Dallin- this was someone that I've been with for three seasons {right then Dallin stood up to take the stage!}. He's always been a critical player and someone I've been able to depend on to get plays done for me.

One thing about getting older...I love seeing and really grasping the details and sacrifice and recognizing all the little work that goes into making this world go around. Love these adults that take a few hours out of their week to make my kids feel like a million bucks. They've been right all along...it really takes a village.

Before our school gets fired!

2011-12-05T12:34:00.000-08:00

So this here incident... I want to give more details of what happened, what I did, and why.

Kindergarten dismisses the students to go to their after-school STAR class and they literally walk 20 ft to some tables where a STAR teacher is waiting. Simultaneously, parents are picking up their kindergartners and walking out a gate. Porter got dismissed to his class. He did STAR all last trimester, so he knows the drill. It was the first day of the new trimester for his skateboarding class. He saw that most all the other kids had skateboards and he didn't. He was embarrassed, and rather than talk to a teacher, he hit the road to avoid the confrontation.

After he came home and the shock wore off and the actuality of the situation sunk in, I asked more questions to make sure I was prepped with the full story. Due to the nature of it all, for better or worse his one-sided story was going to be the bulk of information. So after that, I came up with my plan.

Which obviously started at home. This was a huge indication of Porter's lack of confidence, which I've always been worried about, but this solidified that I had reason to worry. Imagine never having walked home alone and knowing that you shouldn't but still choosing to do that rather than talking to an adult because you feel out of place. That's a problem. And that's the main problem. He consciously made a decision to go against the rules and I really feel like the fault fell on him. He didn't 'get in trouble', but we helped him understand why he shouldn't do that and what he can do in the future. We're going to take a more pro-active approach is giving him opportunities to gain confidence and use his bravery to do HARD CRAZY things for good. Instead of just for running away. We made sure he knew our phone numbers and obviously he already knew our address and how to get home!

I called and talked to the STAR director who was obviously mortified. They had him marked absent and didn't follow up on absences that day which is protocol. I then talked to Porter's teacher. Before telling him what Porter had done, I asked him about the previous day's dismissal. He said he released him to STAR and even specified the class, which meant- according to my detective skills- he clearly remembered. I then told the teacher what happened and he about passed out as he saw his family, his living, and welfare flash before him. At that point, the STAR director joined me and I addressed my issues with the hole in the transition process. I talked strongly and confidently {without addressing Porter's responsibility} but without completely blaming them for the situation. I didn't 'let them have it' or fly off the handle.

So why did I take this approach? A couple of key reasons. While the school does not hold the kids' hands every step of the way, they had a program that was functioning rather well. All the years in operation, I'm guessing this is the first run-away case. Porter is in kindergarten, not pre-school. I think expectations along with shown actions indicate most Kindergartners are capable of navigating that 20 feet alone. And if they don't have the ability {which is different from choosing not to}, then I personally don't think they're ready for Kinder. Secondly, I was not going to wring the school's neck in front of my child for HIS poor decision. I think that sends a terrible message. Like I said, I firmly made them aware of their fault in the system but I'm a big believer in ownership and responsibility. I think it would have been a horrible precedence to show Porter that he can make decisions on his own but his parents will act as a buffer and blame someone else when it turns out to be a poor decision. The flip side of both points- expecting the school to hold my child's hand every step of the way and blaming the school for Porter not doing something that he's proven capable of doing the previous 3 months- are evidence of a growing problem...youth gaining independence. I have a saying in regards to this issue- "The older they are, the harder they fall." I'm hoping to help my kids avoid some of those bigger pitfalls by learning at a young age to be independent and responsible and take ownership for THEIR actions. I will help them along the way and provide them with all the love and support in the world but I have no intention of carrying them when they can walk on their own and acting as a crutch. This was as good as time as any to teach that lesson.

The school also needed to take responsibility for THEIR part. Within 2 days an email was sent out remedying the problem. It was taken care of that quickly and efficiently without making a huge deal of it.

And, just on an ending note, after all was said and done, I was super proud that little Porter Pistol Pope knew how to navigate his way home. These past three years of stopping at the same driveways, having the kids look both ways, pushing the buttons, learning to follow the traffic signals....it all paid off. I didn't think he was capable to be honest. I would have never administered the test this early and this doesn't grant him permission to EVER do this again in the near future but in case of an emergency, he's equipped and that makes me confident and proud. And as parents, isn't our ultimate goal to prepare them for productive, positive, independent adulthood? That's definitely my goal and shows we're making forward progress in that area.

Ok, I'm stepping down from my soap box. But I would genuinely love your opinion/perspective on all this!

And so it begins

2011-12-04T20:20:00.000-08:00

We officially rang in the Holidays this weekend. For year #1 of treat deliveries, we took a careful two-part strategy:

1) Preemptive delivery. We got round 1 of the goodies out while palettes were fresh, before people were inundated with Christmas treats and ready to throw-up rather than happily ingest. Hopefully round 2 follows suit.

2) 'Mini' means more. When was the last time you ate a King size Snickers by yourself? When was the last time you ate 5....6.....7....mini Snickers in one sitting? Case and point.

Our plate contained some of our favorites to make combined with favorites we've received:

*Homemade Reese's

*Rolo brownies

*Andes mint brownies

*Cake batter cookies with Holiday chip frosting

*Pretzel Hugs

The Christmas lights are hung with a new addition this year. The new addition reminds me of the first person I spooned with in the Hansen family. This is the same person I texted about Dr. Pepper 10 only to learn that she, too, was drinking one in that very moment. {Yes, we actually text about beverages from time to time. Nerdy but oh so true.} But what takes the cake that we were meant to be happened a few years back. Our little fam was visiting in Utah. It was late at night and we were on the phone. She was driving down I-15, I was in the Heber Canyon. We both abruptly stopped our conversation with an outburst...."I JUST SAW A SHOOTING STAR!" We were too stunned to even jinx each other. On two different sides of the mountain, during one small conversation, we shared the same shooting star that sealed the deal.

This one's for you, Miss Chelsi J. Love ya!

Summation

2011-12-02T06:55:00.000-08:00

Oh I think I survived. You know, sometimes nothing feels as good as alone. And tonight's one of those nights. We've been very much hour by hour here at the Hansen home today. Which implies that things could be a lot worse. So I'm not complaining. But I would like to thank Pandora's Christmas station and some beautifully decorated Christmas homes for giving us a peaceful and muy memorable 25 minutes. Deeter's commentaries added to the night, "Oh MOM, this is an adorable Christmas house." "Oh MOM, I lub the red balls." Thankfully Yosh already got ours up this year and they look awesome as pictured below.

Totally kidding. We're still holding on to our one strand of pumpkin and ghost lights that never got plugged in and look absolutely ridiculous. But I would love if our house looked like this.

Dallin B was saying his prayers tonight and was going on and on about our friend- whose name I didn't catch- who came to visit and we're so happy bc we haven't seen him in so long and we've missed him etc etc. I finally had to stop him mid-prayer and ask him who the heck he was talking about. "Henry." Oh yea, by some miracle our elf on the shelf arrived this morning at 6:45 just as I heard the kids stretching. Yes, Henry we have missed you. In that same prayer, Dallin prayed that "mom can have help dealing with the kids". That he knows it's hard even though he's not a mom. And he prayed about Dad being strict. Even though moments before him and Porter both said they love me but they love daddy more. And then somehow came back with the consensus that they loved us the same. The charity tie didn't do much for me. But it's kind of funny being a mom and how protective we are of others' relationships- I was almost relieved to hear them say they loved their daddy more. Part of me hopes that's true. Is it because I have no control over that relationship? I don't know.

Anyways, my final thoughts on the funeral that I wanted to get down. At the beginning of last week, as it became apparent my aunt was in her final days and her family was literally gathered around her 24:7 waiting for the final good-bye, my mind kept drifting to a poem that I fell in love with as a young freshman at Ricks College. For the first time though, I felt the words of this poem as I was doing my normal day-to-day chores- making breakfast, shipping kids to school, giving baths, laughing with my husband, etc- and my close family was experiencing heartbreak and anguish deeper than they ever had before. I'm intrigued with the way life jigsaws together.

I was also aware of the heightened feelings of love and togetherness and closeness at the funeral. How those things that mattered most in life were at the forefront. I was thinking how these were feelings that already existed; they weren't newly created because of the situation. How would it be if we could keep those feelings and thoughts and priorities at the top of the pile instead of letting them sit at the bottom of the stack collecting dust, being expedited to the front only in extreme situations? We'd probably all tweak quite a few decisions and be happier people.

Gretchen was never part of a one-time-world-changing event. So it was very satisfying to look at her life as a whole and see what 59 years of slow, steady, quiet work had produced. And very inspiring. I summed up the overriding message that I walked away with because of her example: DO GOOD. BE GOOD. INFUSE GOOD.

Have a fabulous weekend...I'm sure we all need it!

{Kaia Marie and her namesake. Taken 5/6/11 at Brandon and Kristen's wedding dinner.}

Holy Heart Attack

2011-12-01T09:36:00.000-08:00

Imagine my shock yesterday when Porter came walking through the front door at 2:00 in the afternoon....ALONE.
All I could do was look at him. And look at him again to make sure it was REALLY him. "Porter," I said, almost questioningly.
He kinda did a giggle and said, "What?" with his cute little smile. Crystal clear...he was nervous.
"How did you get home?"
"I walked."
"You WHAT? With who? Why?" I was confused, shocked, and about every other discombobulated emotion. This wasn't making sense at all.
Come to find out, Porter had left after school, before his enrichment class and WALKED HOME ALONE. Which means crossing a major major street. ALONE. We're talking about the boy that when we say, "Porter, look for cars," he looks at the brick wall and declares, "Nope, none are coming." This is the child that gets lost when he's standing right next to me. And somehow this same child managed to get himself home, and home safely. Thank goodness.

Scary day for me. I think some angels were walking him home. Or he's more mature than I give him credit for. Either way, you can imagine that many chit-chats ensued. And many hugs and kisses.

In no Particular Order....

2011-11-30T12:39:00.000-08:00

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.

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

2011-11-29T10:58:00.000-08:00

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 chit-chatting....it 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.

Road trippin

2011-11-28T17:59:00.000-08:00

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....

Remembering

2011-11-24T15:36:00.000-08:00

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 ladies...it'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.

another first

2011-11-23T10:32:00.001-08:00

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.

more food, less cold

2011-11-21T13:00:00.000-08:00

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}

It really should be Easy....

2011-11-18T12:16:00.000-08:00

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....

Vida, you are my...Vida

2011-11-17T12:47:00.000-08:00

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

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

SORRY, YOSH!

Gym Woes

2011-11-16T10:09:00.000-08:00

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.

Who are you?

2011-11-15T10:56:00.000-08:00

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.

DeeDee Lukey

2011-11-14T13:07:00.000-08:00

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.

SIMMER DOWN, DEETZ. POR FAVOR. YOU HAVE THE REST OF YOUR LIFE TO BOSS ME AROUND.

2011-11-12T07:51:00.000-08:00

Beautiful Veteran's Day

LOWLIGHTS

high expectations and.....no 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

HIGHLIGHTS

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.....

Walking with Irony

2011-11-10T13:21:00.000-08:00

...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.

Why we need girlfriends

2011-11-08T09:22:00.000-08:00

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.

The Unveiling

2011-11-07T15:57:00.000-08:00

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 justice....at 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.

As Is

2011-11-05T21:55:00.000-07:00

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.

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

Better Late than Never?

2011-11-04T11:12:00.000-07:00

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!

Oh just feeling good

2011-11-03T12:53:00.000-07:00

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 of....me. (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

Hmmmmm.....

2011-11-02T11:45:00.000-07:00

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!!!

It's Official

2011-11-01T11:36:00.000-07:00

....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....

Challenge of the Day

2011-10-31T11:12:00.000-07:00

Porter from a young age {ie: the first time he went trick-or-treating} exhibited this really interesting, way-too-mature-for-his-young-self characteristic.....he's a candy snob. We're talking walk up to the door, look around in the bowl, and would rather walk away empty-handed than with a handful of sub-par candy. Now I'll have you know that for a child this is not a learned skill....either you got it or you don't. And Porter's still got it.

With this being said a new Halloween challenge has arisen...have your bowl be such that NO child walks away empty-handed.

No crap candy.......BRING ON THE GOODS!

In case you need a laugh....

2011-10-28T11:55:00.000-07:00

......take your pick.

-I bent down to pick up Kaia's car seat, threw my arm under the bar, went to stand up........but somehow just got dropped. And went down. On my bum. And then kinda rolled back. All in slow motion. Oh why yes, thanks for asking.... of course I was in public.

-I took the kids for frozen yogurt. They yogurted and topped and we went to pay and I pulled my ~~$20~~ $2 out of my pocket..........awkward. I mean are they really going to throw away the yogurt that only we can consume? We had an uncomfortable 2 seconds of eye contact as we looked for the next step. {I don't know how that $3 hid itself in my stroller but thank you.}

-There's this crazy lady that walks around our town with a baby in a Bjorn, one in a stroller, and usually a couple more walking alongside. She gets quite a few "looks". Well, yesterday the smallest boy took off across the street at a semi-busy 4 way stop with no adult in tow. A policeman came out of the woodwork and swooped him up before a car could run him over.............. You already know where this is going. Imagine the death looks I was getting now that they thought the crazy lady couldn't even take care of all her dang kids. As if I wasn't already humiliated....

-Dallin came home from his friend's house telling me about a little tiff- how he got an interception, and how "Harrison was complaining like hell." I had Dallin B on the phone with his dad in about 2.2. "No no no, Dallin...verBAtim. You tell your Daddy VERBATIM how the story goes." {"Mom, Dad won't stop laughing...."}

And that's a wrap. Happy Friday!

♥ to ♥

2011-10-26T17:42:00.000-07:00

I was thinking this week about being a mom and three specific incidents came to my mind.

I remember being in my last semester of college when I heard about "Teach For America", a program designed to offer the teacher a way to get credentialed while being paid. The assigned classroom was usually in the inner-city somewhere like a reservation. I had opted out of a teaching degree because I wanted to graduate at the same time as Yosh and as soon as I gained a focused career path, it always involved working with at-risk youth. So my heart spiked at this opportunity. I gathered a little information and started the initial application process before it all came to a halt. I was very pregnant. As appealing as this job was, we had decided I would stay at home with the baby. And as much as I tried to talk myself into it, I knew I didn't have the personality to fully commit myself to both, nor did I truly want to. I remember being in the bathroom at the JKHB, and, alongside a little disappointment, I felt with surety that it was my calling to be at home.

Fast forward a couple babies later, might as well have been a lifetime later. The kids were at home with a baby-sitter and I was out running errands. I walked into Staples, checked off my list, and went to pay. As I stood in line, I looked admiringly at the cashier. "I bet......she looooves her job," I thought. I imagined her getting in her car everyday, the music blaring, sun pouring in through the sunroof, probably sipping on a sodie, driving to work to hang out with her co-workers/friends. "Yep, she must. This would be sooo fun." I tried bringing myself back to really, "Come on, Gay, this is Staples. She can't possibly love her job." {Not knocking STAPLES, you get the point though.} I tried my hardest to infuse reality and talk myself out of this conclusion but I just wasn't buying it. Point-blank...she must love her job and I was jealous. I wanted to be a Staples cashier.

This third incident occurred while I was driving in my car, once again with two kids at home, and I was feeling pretty miserable. If I remember correctly, Yosh got a phone call that went something like this, in a whisper, "I hate my job.....I wanna quit." I don't remember how the rest of the phone call went, but I drove around for awhile because I didn't want to go home to reality. I needed a brief run-away. And somewhere in that drive, a seed was planted that has overtime blossomed. The thought that has become my roots and anchor is this.... I chose to be a stay-at-home mom. I'm not one because I have to be, or because my religion suggests that as an ideal route, or because my husband wants me to be. I chose it. And I continue to choose it every time I'm tempted to be something other than that. In all honesty, it seems very sexy to be a little something professional, have a career of my own and succeed at it {which- quick news flash- I would never succeed at. That'll be a great post someday...my job history and so-called work ethic...}. And sometimes I've even tried to ignore what I know to be right for me and chase sexy but no matter how I try to tip-toe around it, I know what I want and I know what is right for me. "The grass is greener on the other side" sometimes sends me for a walk, but I always get pulled right back to my side of the fence, which is why I'm currently trying to refund my way out of a business venture I invested in. I have found not only freedom in knowing the choice was mine to choose, but also empowerment, and this derived strength has pulled me out of many a black corners and served as an anchor during the storms.

Now although I love being a stay-at-home mom, I'm not necessarily advocating for stay-at-home moms; I'm advocating for being pro-active in making a decision and then owning it. The shared experience happened to be my vehicle for learning this principle. This lesson has enabled me to apply the same principle to many other facets of my life. So just my thoughts for the day...wherever you are in life, no matter how different your path may be from mine, a common factor across the board is that the path is sometimes hard and dissatisfying. A small key for navigating the turbulence is owning your position. Once you come to terms with that, you can choose to continue in the same route or make changes. You can taste the liberation and often times that feeling of freedom gives you all the power you need to push through.

Suerte, my friends!

Just three things.......

2011-10-25T13:30:00.000-07:00

1) This is what Tuesday mornings at our house look like:

2) What is proper communication etiquette for blogging? Do I answer in my comment section? In theirs? Personal email? Do I not answer? I'm all about wanting to continue the conversation but don't know how.

3)The letter verification deals. Seriously? Can we make them any harder to read? To buy concert tickets, I need to solve an unreadable puzzle. To post a listing on craigslist, it's as if they're taunting me..."type this if you can." I mean, it's ridiculous the jumble they want me to turn into coherent letters. Killing me, killing me.

Mama got Brave

2011-10-24T12:56:00.000-07:00

...and walked my booty into a craft store. I kinda felt like a stranger in my own world but I quickly adapted. I focused, remembered why I was there- there was some vision in my head that could only be recreated by my hands. Hence the walk into foreign territory.

My mission was to do away with this look we've been sporting the last 3 years:

I needed color. I needed pattern. I wanted my sunshines pictured right along the words that described them.

And this is what we came up with:

(excuse the loft- at some point it will get completed. actually it probably won't but maybe. and if you're wondering if i like Subway art or whatever it's called....well, I think you have your answer.)

And all this only cost me 2 holes in the wall. Talk about making a husband happy. (Truth be told, don't know if I've let him in on that secret yet. Maybe I'll wait til I can use it to my advantage....) Now because of using those damage free hanging deals, I feel like it was a bit tricky to get the symmetry perfect so I've been trying to look at it through semi-blind eyes but have mainly been failing in that attempt. Holes or perfection? Delicate balance.

In other news, I didn't kill myself hanging the top right yellow frame even though I considered that a very real possibility as I balanced myself on a 3 ft high laundry basket that slightly hung over the allotted stair and would have needed nothing more that a bit extra weight shifted left or right to send me flying down the stairs. And as my mind envisioned it, I would be landing on my tailbone with my legs somehow over my head in an inverted somersault when this all went down. But yet, I still decided I must do this NOW. I was not willing to wait for a taller human being to help me out. And the risk paid off as I am here to tell the story- with an increased distrust in my decision making skillies.

Now I'll have you know that I've found myself in that same JoAnn's a few more times since. And to top that? I even busted out the iron {that my sister didn't think I owned} to do this project. Not a chance there will be wrinkled frames hanging on my wall except for one straggler, find it if you can! Tell you what, I'm a new woman with these synced up nap times 2x a week while the big kids are at school!

Just a few Randoms....

2011-10-23T17:37:00.000-07:00

~What is it about being a girl- actually a lady now- and that time of the month and headaches? Let's not remind me of the 5 pm headache for the last 8 days.

~I was feeling all mature when last Sunday after church I walked my tooshie right up to Yosh and told him I needed a couple of hours to myself, that I would be leaving. I didn't pout, I didn't act all mad and storm out, I just used my big girl words. It went over well.

~And while on the subject, did patience always plummet once a month? I'll be thinking my day is going well and all of a sudden I find myself ready to blow a gasket. I guess I'd forgotten.

~But I forget many things. I have no memory. I used to always laugh when my mom would exasperatedly tell me, "Gabey, I've got Alzheimers." I would remind her she was only 50 and that was impossible. Now I find myself calling her asking for tips...."Mom, how in the world did you make it to 50 before the big A word kicked in? I don't think I can last that long...." It's hopeless.

~I played some school yard game called "Cheeseball" with the boys for a good 15 minutes yesterday. I was no closer to understanding the game at the end of the 15 minutes than I was at the beginning.

~Other signs of aging: Yosh got very excited today when he saw me wearing lace....on my socks.

~I got very excited this weekend when 2 out of the 3 boys opted out of dressing up for the first Halloween party of the season. Next weekend I will find the energy, my friends. Do not fret, we will celebrate Halloween in style.

The Princess is always ready for a party.

~Yosh called me out for too many sugar cereals in the house. And not enough fresh produce. You know things are needing reeled in when Yosh feels the need to step in. (I think I was hovered in a corner with my bowl of Reeses Puffs as I received my scolding.)

Can I confess something? I like the texture these randoms add to life. This is what keeps the boring away. And I've never fared very well with boring.

How to Cuss like a First Grader

2011-10-21T09:31:00.000-07:00

One of the perks of having a first grader is you always stay up to date on the lingo. The other day Dallin came out in a new basketball outfit and Porter told him he looked hot. Dallin proceeded to inform him, "Porter, you don't say hot for a boy. You say 'sick'. K, you look sick." Porter lapped up the lesson like the hungry little brother he is.

The other day I learned of a new naughty word on the market. Once again, courtesy of our first grader.
DB: "Mom, did you know peanut butter is a bad word?"
Me: "It is?"
DB: "Yea, it is. Okay cuz 'pee'- you know, like you gotta take a pee. Then 'nuts'. You know what those are, right Mom? You know, your privates. Ok, and 'butt'. Then, -er. See, it's a bad word."

And all I could think about... "my son is talking to me openly about n-u-t-s? He still doesn't know that could be a little bit weird? This is good. I don't think I gave the secret away. Keep a straight face. Hopefully we can keep this open communication going a few more years...."

(PS I'm supposed to be at the gym right now. Instead I'm at the computer in defeat, I have a half-dressed 2 yr old recooping in front of a show after way too much crying and it's only 9:30 am, and a beautifully dressed pumpkin princess rolling around on the ground waiting patiently for her big brother to pull it together. Where's my Diet Coke?........)

Heart to Heart

2011-10-19T12:14:00.000-07:00

While walking through school the other day (may I take a moment to bask and add...hand in hand):

Porter's gym coach in passing: "Poooorrrrrrrrrrter, what's up?"
Porter: Weirdish smile, kinda looks away.
Me, whispering: "Porter, don't you wanna say hi to him?"
Porter: "Uh, hi."
(Gym coach has now passed.)
Me: "Porter, why does it make you shy when he says hi to you?"
Porter: "I just don't know what "What's up" means."

This is the sweet boy we're talking about. Our Porter Pistol Pope Hansen. We really struggled with the decision of what to do with Porter this year, school-wise. He's a late birthday which meant he could do another year of pre-school or start Kindergarten. I lost many a nights sleep over this decision starting April '10. I made decisions. I went back on decisions. I lost money because of going back on those decisions. I was sure. Then I wasn't sure. Many times I tried to convince myself I was at peace. But I wasn't. I followed my heart and kept trying until it led me to the path that just felt right. (wait, was that path suggested by my husband?.....es posible.)

He's enrolled in Kindy and we couldn't have a better match of a teacher. As evidenced by one of his morning greetings:

That's right....a surf report. Just in case you missed the morning news.

He's a rebel in the most awesomely, school way. He starts the day in Converse and changes to flip flops at the first given chance. He only returns to his Converse for any needed trip to the office. And he gives surf reports. He is an obvious endorser of individuality and we were concerned about our individual child. Enough said.

What's the lesson learned from all this? Patience. Learning what it feels like to make the right decision. While in the process, I always question it. I always want to give in and compromise peace for "now" and doubt that the perfect solution will present itself. I think, "Will there ever come a point where my mind and heart will sync up?" Often times it feels like that won't happen, that I've exhausted all my options and still there's no peace to be found. But if I don't give in, they- the mind and the heart- almost always catch up to each other. Sometimes a unique option arises; sometimes it just requires time to mold me a new set of eyes for one of the original choices. Just as was the case with the Pistol.

And what amazes me is it's the same process whether picking a school for your child or furniture for your backyard. In the last month, I've almost bought many sub-desired pieces to have the decision done with and out of the way. But had I given in to mediocrity, I would have missed out on these beauties:

And I do NOT like missing out. I'm in looooooooooove!

Which is why I hope to remember this lesson~

Be patient.

Have faith.

You've been here before.

Your mind won't fail you.

But neither will your heart.

Wait til they find each other.

Then revel in the peace.

You'll never regret the wait.

If a Picture is Worth a Thousand Words....

2011-10-18T12:16:00.000-07:00

then this is a long ole novel I'm never gonna get through.

Aaahhhhh so many pictures....where to begin and then what do I do with them?!!!

For now, I'll just focus on a couple.

{For the love of TOMS}

How come there seems to be a dominating face here? Hmmmmmm.

Family pics. Take your best shot. To capture the story of us. Right here.
Right now.

Mama got brave today

2011-10-17T10:21:00.000-07:00

..........I laced up four times last week

........... and worked out {0 times}.

In all this getting dressed in exercise clothes, I went ahead and continued the trend on Friday night.

You would of never guessed, huh?

Only one question begs to be answered with the multi-use of the leggings....

The under-roos. Not a chance they're getting invited on my 5-mile run.

But what about a Friday night out? It's debatable.....

Same leggings, completely different rules.

Steve Madden, you had me at orange stitch.

I'm fallen.

(Yosh, sorry you look drunk in above pic, but it was a one shot deal.)

We had a hot Friday night out watching Jack and White perform. Love that girl and admire her work ethic. It was fun to see her new partner in crime. Must say, they seemed like a good fit- I think she's found her niche. I loved kicking back and listening to the music but....CONFESSION.... I couldn't help but think, "Wow, us white folk are boring." It was some sweet music that made you just want to groove. Yet, I looked around and all I saw was gentle head bobs and a little tappin of the foot. Now don't you for one second think I was doing anything more than that myself, sitting with my legs crossed all nice and proper. But in my head, I was dreaming of lettin loose.

Hope yours was an enjoyable weekend with more letting loose than me.
Cha cha now ya'll!

it's a Secret.....

2011-10-16T16:54:00.000-07:00

....that I'm hesitant to share with you. It has to do with baking. I'm a good baker, not great. This one simple addition to my standard chocolate chip cookie recipe elevates them- hence, me- from goodness to greatness. And just for one small minute I would like to revel in the fact that I'm a better baker than you. Which is why I hesitate to share.

But obviously I'm going to since I reeled you in this far...no turning back.

The secret comes from three small words.....

Fleur de Sel

My recipe of choice for Fleur de Sel Chocolate Chip Cookies:

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened (*I used butter flavored crisco)

3/4 cup granulated sugar

3/4 cup packed brown sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 large eggs

2 cups (12-oz. pkg.) NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® Milk Chocolate Morsels

PREHEAT oven to 375° F.

COMBINE flour, baking soda and salt in small bowl. Beat butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar and vanilla extract in large mixer bowl until creamy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in morsels and nuts. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto ungreased baking sheets.

(I roll into a ball and then gently pat the dough down, forming a flat surface)

*****sprinkle Fluer de Sel on dropped cookie dough*****

BAKE for 9 to 11 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on baking sheets for 2 minutes; remove to wire racks to cool completely.

(it's the Original Nestle Tollhouse Chocolate Chip Cookies with the couple changes I made)

But it comes with a warning....bake at your own risk. Haters will ensue after you knock them off their baking pedestal.

I must go now. A fresh batch just got out of the oven.

Back on the wagon.....

2011-10-14T11:13:00.000-07:00

....(is that how the saying goes?)

It's been a long time, but I finally participated in a DIY project...

How to Make it:

1)Buy a $45 necklace two years in advance.

2)Like the concept but don't really like the necklace but wear it every now and then out of guilt for your more-than-you-would-normally-spend-on-a-necklace purchase.

3)Two years later buy a delicate gold chain with a key-lock charm and wear it almost every day.

4)Have your stomach drop to the ground as you watch your charm fall down the drain.

5)Feel sorry for yourself for a few weeks.

6)Bust out the pliers and finally get the nerve to cut other chain, which is the only way to remove the peace charms.

7)Put charms onto chain. When they won't shimmy their way through, find some dental floss. Thread the chain and use that to pull the charms through. (Can you tell I'm super proud of that step? Had to get all MacGyver-esque.)

Finished product created. One DIY project and $85 later, you have a one-a-kind necklace.

I think I'm going to save myself some money and just go shopping this weekend.......

Heart to Heart

2011-10-12T18:29:00.000-07:00

Within 15 seconds of dropping the big, heavy umbrella base on my toes, I already was 1)nauseous bc of the blood I saw, 2)mad I wouldn't be able to wear my new boots that night, and 3)devastated that I wouldn't be able to run 8 days later in the Manhattan Beach 10k, the only 10k I'm absolutely committed to running in for the rest of my life. I let the injury run it's course and endured the pain (yes, it was painful even if it only was a toe or two) but couldn't squash the desire to run that dang 10k.

After reaching out for some tips to FB- which produced no sympathy-, I got the buoying up I needed to commit to the run. So Saturday morning I got up bright and early, loaded up on the IB, wrapped those toesie wosies, and headed out to run for the first time in almost two weeks. The toes were numb enough when the race started and really only caused minimal discomfort. Turns out, they were the least of my concerns. My movement was all stiff from lack of activity. I kinda felt like a running mummy. My body was out of sorts- I kept breaking out in cold sweats, wondering, "Hmmm...am I going to pass out?" So I walked. And then I ran again wondering, "Hmmm....am I going to throw up?" My thought was right in sync with the man behind me bc in that instant he started barfing....right in stride with his running. Didn't even slow down, never missed a beat. I was shocked that people really do that. I've heard of people doing it and once a trainer even suggested that I run until I throw up. Uhhh....PASS. But never did I know people really did this. I learned that they do. Must be a special breed because I don't like pain or discomfort. Which is why you found me rolling around on the ground, writhing in pain for one FULL hour after breaking my toe. My husband was no where to be found, my personal nurse/Kady did the best she could over the phone after I literally crawled upstairs to call her, and my lifeline/Christy finally bailed me and the babies out 45 into the trauma. So no, I would not be passing out or throwing up to make it through this run even if I wanted to.

It never got that extreme and I finished, giving it my all. I crossed the finish line where Kady was waiting for me and all I could do was fall to the side and say, "I just wanna cry." Because I was physically wasted and to be honest, I was disappointed in my time. It was a respectable time. 54:37. But all that effort and pain and it produced what I considered to be only a decent time. Only decent because it wasn't my best ever time? Or because it wasn't the time I wouldn't have gotten if I hadn't been hurt? I don't know but it stung.

Now as much as I'm sure you all just loved hearing my sob story, I come with a point. That I'm a grown adult with 31 years under my belt and I struggled with accepting that my best isn't always the best. My self-confidence, self-worth, self-esteem, self-{fill in the blank} took a temporary blow. And I didn't even have anything riding on that run. In fact, I really didn't even think I was going to be able to run it.

The couple days following this little incident, I got to thinking. Because I'm a thinker and a self-conversator. And I mulled around these happenings in my head trying to pinpoint what was really bothering me. And all this thinking brought me to kids, to youth, to those formative years. And I felt my little heart having small pangs of momentary break as I realized the gravity of what we as parents, teachers, and mentors ask of them- the same thing that I had momentarily failed at.

The pressure they face, both external and internal, is present even at the tender age of 5 and 6. Life gives us only a small grace period from feeling those pressures and theirs has already expired. They're now onto character building reality. Hence the inundation of hammering into them to do their best and be proud of it. We're pushing the building of character versus social acceptance. We're doing our absolute best to ingrain in them a love for self and a confidence that comes within. And that realization is what really tugged on my heart strings...that we're asking them to love themselves.

It's something I've spent a lot of time reflecting on lately- my own personal journey in this area of coming to love myself, especially the growth that has taken place these last couple of years. I couple that with the aspirations I have for my kids' journey and it brings mixed emotion.

Because I know the reality of that journey, and believe me, a journey it is. Getting a glimpse of what it feels like to love myself more completely has left me with a desire that is alive and wild to give that self-love to my children. But the only way I can give it to them.... is by allowing them a lot of heartache and allowing them to take their own many falls, and in so doing gaining the tools to love themselves in the face of so-called failure, hurt and defeat. This produces something they will have earned and can call their own and become the possessor of this confidence and self-worth.

While I believe 100% in the process, it's a tough one and takes a lot of courage to stand by and allow our young ones to start on the path at such an early age.

My own personal fall didn't last long. I'm the bounce back girl and within 24 hours my ego was all mended, my pride was stuffed down deep into my back pocket again, and I recognized triumph. I fought against instinctual human nature and took out the "buts" and "should of's"- and was ready to genuinely be proud.

In my personal opinion, indisputable self-confidence is one of the major keys to success and happiness. Yet, it's one I've struggled with. But I so desperately want to help my kids instill this deep inside their souls. So, spill the beans. What's the secrets, how's it done? It really does take a village.....

Picture me Rollin...

2011-10-11T10:05:00.000-07:00

Remember when I was wah-wahing about getting this new ride? Well friends, lay your worries to rest because I've adjusted well. And it has nothing to do with the salesperson telling me it looked just like the Mercedes SUV. I would've thought it was a sales tactic....until my sis piped in with the same observation. So truth be told.....I bought a knock-off Mercedes. Anything to boost my ego. But my questions regarding "the" Mercedes:

-Can you smash a Razor in your trunk with only the push of a button?
-Can you cut back on quality family time by playing the Wii in the Mercedes?
-Can you smash your fingers in the door with the push of a button?
-Can your kids leave the doors open time and time again because they only have to push a button?
-Can you almost lose your whole head while loading groceries with only the push of a button, meanwhile turn around to see your cart on a full sprint through the parking lot?

I don't think so.

There is just one area of adjustment I'm working on....I feel weird rolling around blaring my 93.5 in the Odyssey. But when a little Snoop Dogg or Too Short or B.I.G. comes on, there is no choice but to blare. Zip your lips with the scolding por favor....it's my guilty indulgence. I should be a 17-year-old in the LBC sometime circa 1980. Instead you got a 30-something in the Palisades in 2011. Some how this might feel more appropriate in ......anything but a white minivan.

Mama got Brave

2011-10-10T07:06:00.000-07:00

Last week was so fun I'm doing it agaaaaaaaiiiiiinnnnn!

Vertical+Horizontal?............. Who knows but I liked it! I held my head higher all day long, feeling all Blind Side-esque. And I would expect to feel no different considering this is the only blazer I own and it was purchased after I watched that movie and decided I was gonna be getting all sophisticated like Ms Sandra Bullock herself. And for someone a bit ghetto like myself, this blazer spills over with sophistication.

That determination was obviously short-lived as- in true Gay style {unable to complete anything including an outfit}- I paired it with the in-congruent flip flops.

PS Go blonde or go home. The next time I say I'm going "more natural", do me the favor of stopping me dead in my tracks. Muchas Gracias!

What's a girl to do?

2011-10-06T16:16:00.000-07:00

This baby lady of ours is just a growing up. I can hardly stand it. Except that each new stage has us just as enamored as the one before. I mean how can you resist a "clicking" baby? Ohhhh she'll be clickin. When she's happy, here comes the clicks. When she has something to say, it begins. If her clicking is at all representative of her talking....we'll have a chit-chatter on our hands... I can't wait!! And I love when she's tired and I lay her down how she starts thumping her leg like a little rabbit . And how with the least bit of attention she turns on a smile that lights up all of L.A. I love her. And how she reaches for everything foot first and can stretch those legs of her out to make perfect 90 degree angles. It's amazing. (Don't worry, give me about 2 or 3 months and she'll hit the stage that starts driving me crazy and the gushing will finally stop. But until then, indulge me.)

The only thing leaving me dissatisfied with the whole baby thing right now is the fact that she's 100% on the bottle and my seasonal lady friends have deserted me, once again leaving me with a chest that resembles that of a 12-year old boy. I mean seriously...isn't that the least of keepsakes I could have after all the pregnancies and nursing I've been through? Huh uh. Apparently too much to ask. Word on the street is they're being held ransom until I decide whether or not I'm willing to buy them back..... What's a girl to do?

Mama, No Stress Deeter out

2011-10-05T11:16:00.000-07:00

I swear, he really said that to me. Like August 7, 2011 or something.

But I've been thinking about stress lately. And anxiety. And ya'll I've had a few light bulb moments.

I admit... I was emotionally dumping on a friend. She told me what she perceived the source of my anxiety to be: kids, a lot on my plate, and not having all the schedules jig-sawed together quite yet. I took that thought home, sat on it, analyzed it, re-analyzed it, and then just for good measure, re-re-analyzed it. After realizing that was a cause of stress but not anxiety- and for the first time being able to separate the two- I was able to troubleshoot my two main anxiety* sources:
(*my definition of anxiety goes something like this: those conversations you have in your head that make you feel like you're on a merry-go-round, often times creating more confusion as the ride continues and result in no solutions.)

1)finances
2)marriage

Serious? This was actually good news...I thought my whole life was in distress, but I only have two areas. What a relief!
Now don't get nervous (or excited depending on your personality type!), I'm not airing any dirty laundry here. Neither one of these areas is in crisis. Which made me ask myself what I was doing differently in these areas of my life versus those that I wasn't feeling anxious in. (ie: being a mom which would seem to be a natural cause of anxiety.)

We've gotten in a good rhythm where our normal spending habits are within our means. I can take care of all our families' needs and lots of mama's wants without breaking the bank account. So why in the world is this a source of anxiety?

My marriage seems to fit inside very comfortable parameters as well. We still like each other, we still get good laughs out of each other, our kids are a top priority, we don't fight much, etc. I feel respected and valued and really think I got a good one when it comes to husbands. So, same question...why is there anxiety here?

I found the answer....I'm living without focus and a plan in these aspects of life.

When we first moved to CA, we were so excited to make money and live on a budget (we genuinely were excited to live on a budget cuz we're nerdy like that.) Yosh set me up with an excel sheet and throughout the month I entered our expenses and the spreadsheet automatically did the calculations telling me how much money we had left in each category to last us until the end of the month. I always knew exactly where we stood and how much money was left to spend. Can I tell you how liberated I felt when we started doing this? I would've thought the contrary, that a budget would imprison me, that it would be that voice you couldn't shut up yelling, "Nooooooo don't buy that." But it had quite the opposite effect. Every purchase I made was deliberate and guilt free. I loved it and swore I would always keep the habit up regardless of our circumstances. Well we've (ok, actually just me. Yosh uses Mint.com to track everything but I've got nothing!) since got away from that practice and the anxiety has crept back in. I don't have a plan for spending and that leaves me feeling: a)like I'm bleeding money, b)irresponsible and c)indulgent. Because I haven't taken the time to make most of these choices ONE time at the beginning of the month, I'm having to confront them multiple times a week, on the spot, without a reference point. Hence the anxiety. Get back on a budget, Gay, and you'll be free!

Now onto marriage. I've never done this whole married thing before. I've never been in a committed relationship for the long haul, and then on top of that taken on a joint venture as huge as a family before. And in the same breath I would say navigating my way through marriage hasn't been as innate as other roles I've taken on (ie: once again, being a mom.) Because of this, I find myself having the same monologue, "Should he be doing that or should I be doing that? Should I tell him we're doing this or wait and see if he knows? I don't want him to get mad. But I do want this to get done. Am I being too demanding? Am I not asking enough of him? Do other couples have this problem? Are we normal? Is it just me? I probably need to change. But maybe he should change." And all of this takes place in a matter of 15 seconds. Believe me, I get just as nauseous in the moment as you just did from reading that. But here's the thing...we're novices in the marriage department! We're definitely doing ok at it and have our heads above water but I don't want an "ok" marriage, I want an AWESOME one, not kidding. I have to think there's a more efficient way to achieve this than him and I kind of guessing our way along the journey. So while I don't think I should have it all figured out, I do think a plan would line out some expectations for each of us, give us the tools to deal with whatever issues arise, and therefore lessen the anxiety. I've been telling myself to just buck up and get a few tips by going to a couple of counseling sessions or read a marriage book. Now I just need to do it!

My overall conclusion is that when I don't have a point of reference, I stumble. My personality needs it. Apparently, that's my security blanket. That reference point is what makes me feel successful in certain areas of my life and the absence of it leaves me feeling anxious. Also, pinpointing the causes stopped the leaking over into other areas of my life. My overall life already feels more in control. I feel more reassurance after figuring these two things out and I haven't even implemented my plans of attack!

Alrighty now, what is it that's stressing you out or making you anxious? Think about it, be honest with yourself and put it out there. Because on the other side of those issues is happiness, freedom, and calmness. We can figure this thing called life out, I promise you!!! Let's do it!

Mama got brave today

2011-10-03T20:38:00.000-07:00

I wore mustard pants! And that made me feel brave. And awesome. Because I bought these pants a couple weeks back, hoping I'd have the nerve to rock them. I always kinda get a swift rush of reassurance when I get the ok from Cami's blog. So here they are in all their glory and I must say...even mustard-colored pants have my number this season!

(shirt: Madewell, pants: Nordstroms BP, shoes: Nordstrom Rack)

Lost in Translation- sometimes it's better

2011-10-02T15:58:00.000-07:00

Oh the Brazilians came. And they are just as exotic as "Brazilian" sounds. Beautiful people who "adoro" everything. (No.....Les adoro a Uds.) I haven't seen my husband this happy in.......wait....ever? Whoa that's a little bit weird. Anyways I'm rarely on the other end of the language barrier issue and I'll tell you what, it was definitely a blast from the past to those first weeks as a missionary in Uruguay. The three of them talked a million miles a minute in Portuguese but when I was around they were ever so polite and we did the best we could without a common language. We fumbled around in a Portuguese/English/Spanish rotation and laughed when there was no sense that was going to be made of whatever was just said that we didn't understand. Comprende?

But sometimes we did make sense of what we just misunderstood...and that was funny. Like when we were kicked back after eating way too much meat at the Churascaria. I asked Rafa if they do exercise at home cuz it only seemed appropriate to talk about how in the world we were gonna get off the extra 10 lbs we just put on. Rafa flashed me that beautiful Brazilian smile, politely said, "Yes," and in less than a millisecond was already staring her husband dead in the eye, begging for support. I quickly turned to mine as well. "She thinks I said something embarrassing," I whispered wide-eyed. Support she got as Fogo offered an answer without skipping a beat, "Yes we make sex at home......and we make sex in your house!" Seal that in with a laugh and a wink and ain't nothing more to be said. Oh yes, the Brazilians came!

2011-09-28T22:07:00.000-07:00

I was driving past the hospital today when an unexpected lump arose in my throat. Nostalgia sank in so much deeper than I would have expected. I was driving my "for sale" Honda Pilot- our stepping stone from 1 to 2 kids. It took my breath away as we used a big chunk of our savings as a down payment- a huge leap of faith for me-but then breathed life right back into me as it was the SUV I just had to have. It is the car that drove me to the hospital to have two of my babies. And it was the car that we brought three babies home in. The Pilot will soon be gone. And the hospital I passed most likely won't host anymore birth-giving parties. And to me there is no day more special than birth-giving day. Anticipating it is like the night before Christmas as a little kid. Except that each night of the last two weeks have been like the night before Christmas. So imagine the accumulative effect. The adrenaline, excitement, and jitters are at an all time high. I thank my lucky stars that all four births have been healthy ones and relatively normal in spite of a couple hiccups. So when that baby comes out and accepts life, and the bond is for the first time physical, time literally stands still. There's this small window- when you've unloaded the burden of being pregnant but have yet to take on the reality of a newborn- where everything is perfect. Ignorance is uninhibited and love encounters no walls. Life freezes- just for you- and allows you to drink it up, to have your cake and eat it too as the saying goes. I would trade in Christmas every year in exchange for a birth-giving day once a year. To taste that euphoria if only for a few hours. But since Christmas is set in stone and I can't handle the exponential stress that each baby brings, it'll all remain a memory that each day falls more into the distance. Although reaching for those days, those 4 special days, will leave me with only thin air and empty hands, today I have all my growing babies to love on and hold close.

(an inspiration from 71toes.blog- write down what mom is thinking in the pictures. some day both the kids and i will want to know about mom. Tonight (which is when this pic was taken) I was thinking how sometimes it's great when daddy's out of town because cereal for dinner at 7:00 or whenever is great. i was thinking "how is it possible that baby girl loses a spoonful of baby food in her knee rolls?" i was wondering how not having school the next day eases all the stress even though the night routine doesn't change much. I was thinking how much i love my kids and how awesome it is to be their mom. Ok, no I wasn't but it sounds good, right!)

2011-09-27T14:30:00.000-07:00

Wow, life is busy. Have you ever heard me say I'm not a huge fan of busy? Because I'm not. But slowly I'm accepting the reality of parenthood/adulthood. This time around- mainly referring to the start of a new school year- I'm a little bit better about coaching myself through the rough patches, pepping myself up with the you-can-do-it talks, and breathing when I get the chance. But how come I can't tell my inner subconscious that this isn't a good time to get a decorating itch? Oh it's what I think about most days- fixing up certain neglected spaces in the house- but have no time/energy to really execute. Shoot I don't even have the mental energy to develop the ideas let alone execute them. And I know, I know....a time and a season for all things. Soon enough the kids will all be in school and blah blah blah. But like I said, it's the subconscious. I can't stop it.

So start of the school year...3 weeks deep if my math is correct. And.........we've already skipped a day. What?

Disneyland Sept 20, 2011. Highlight: getting to buy a toy. Of course they picked a Star Wars something or the other. Porter was ready to go home at noon so he could open his other presents. Yea, that didn't happen.

And then it was 3 days until the much anticipated birthday party. Or maybe the much anticipated acquisition of more new toys. I don't know, still trying to figure that one out.

So this was the first pinata we've done at a party. As I was looking through the pictures of me and the pinata......

....it was apparent I didn't hide my fear/anxiety at all. That was the most stressful ~~hour~~ 5 minutes of the night.

Happy Birthday to the Pistol. He's a good lad and we're lucky to have landed him!

2011-09-17T15:23:00.000-07:00

I was looking through my pictures last night and started laughing when I saw these two. Because I remembered why I took them. See that Deeter Lucas looking thug in his little outfit? Well we bought those socks when Porter was a toddler- a toddler in a "stage", if you will. And this stage was a short-wearing-only stage. So the purchase of these awesome socks (not pictured is the big pirate on the front of each one...) came with a condition....he could only wear them with pants. Because our child wasn't going to be looking all crazy walking around with shorts and pirate socks pulled up to his knees, surely paired with some DCs. As you can imagine, that rule was quickly broken by Porter. And Yosh and I quietly admitted that they looked absolutely adorable worn his way. And so it has continued down to little brother, this awesome style. Kids feeling confident is their own look is so much more important than me feeling confident in how I perceive other's look at them. I hope I remember that learned lesson because I'm sure it's going to be put to the test time and time again in these next 15 years....

Glad I captured the moment....

2011-09-16T09:19:00.000-07:00

What's on my mind

2011-09-13T16:26:00.000-07:00

1) If I would only throw those shoulders back and stand up straight it would appear that I lost those last 10 lbs I'm trying to shake.

{I should have a million pictures to insert and display my terrible posture that grows my stomach to about double it's actual size but I can't find any but I've had this issue forever. Working on it starting right now.}

2) Small changes produce grand results- mundane is lost when errands are done on a beach cruiser.

(My new mode of transportation for around town when no kids are in tow.)

3) Your day really frees up when you have a 1st grader and a Kindergartner.

4) I finally understand the sayings, "I've never seen a smile that wasn't beautiful" and "You're never fully dressed without a smile." My daughter has taught me about the beauty of smiling.

5) I think these boys realize they are lucky to have each other.

6) It's much easier traveling with 2 kids rather than 4.

(Jodi and Travin's wedding Sept 3, 2011. Aztec, NM)

7) I should be helping with homework and working on dinner. On the menu tonight:

BLTAs

Watermelon

Peach milkshakes

(I refuse to accept summer is over...)

some kind of LOVE

2011-08-26T14:18:00.000-07:00

i kind of felt like i was on a first date again. even though the number of "first dates" i've had probably wouldn't even fill one hand. but this date was important. i yearned to hold his hand but didn't know if it was appropriate or not. so i waited. and when he made the first move i couldn't have been more relieved.

because these days are numbered. and there was proof of that thought on every side of me as kids only a year older than my Dallin B kept good distance between them and their mama. the concert exalted to awesome as my little boy watched it from my lap. Taylor Swift stated what she thought to be the two most intense feelings- finding love and losing love. i couldn't agree more. and although i found myself in neither predicament, i felt more depth in my love at the very moment because i was appreciative. through him i had found love.

and as a test- as if that wasn't love enough- an impostor came along.......

forgive the crappy picture but i'll take what i can get. this little surprise made his way onto the stage and some force unknown to me threw me out of my chair and had me screaming like a 13-year old girl. screaming is kinda the word, but more correct would be something like "shrilling." and i wasn't alone. imagine the Staples Center filled to the max when justin bieber made his appearance....high decibels. Dallin, of course, hates JB....but his eyes were peeled and his giddy smile was present. but "i hate him and didn't even look at him".

i live for these kind of moments. and to share them with the ones i love the most....well i guess that's why i live for them.

2 seconds matter

2011-08-09T21:16:00.000-07:00

And those 2 seconds have kept me up at night on more than one occasion. They have left me laying in bed, doing a play-by-play of the day's event, willing a change to the ending. It has yet to happen and my conscience has yet to cut me a break. They have spurred me to write hate texts, but left me unable to hit the send button. 2 seconds can drive you crazy. It all happened the first weekend of last October-although that's not where it all started. It started 16 weeks previous to that as a group of friends discussed the Manhattan Beach 10k over dinner at Stanley's. The conversation turned from casual and inclusive when Laura singled me out and declared her personal goal......"Well I just want to beat Gay." An uninvited challenge thrown directly at me, no way to divert it. The directiveness caught me off guard but inside I allowed myself a good chuckle, thinking if she didn't beat me she would be feeling pretty stupid. That thought was never uttered aloud. I'd let it be my own opinion.

Well game day arrived. I had put in my time and hard work to prepare- running the hills, putting in a few runs each week. To be honest, I was surprised at how strong I was feeling. Maybe the joke would be on me.....maybe, just maybe, I would cross the finish line before Laura. My aversion to competition outside of myself led me to get lost in the crowd of 3000, camouflaging Laura in with the rest of my competitors. This would be the only way to let me run easy the next 6.2. And that is just what I did after the blow horn sounded. She was lost from my sight and mind, allowing me a solid- although very challenging- run. But it would have been too kind of her to allow me that serenity the whole 6.2. Instead she gave me 6.1. And then out of no where, she came into my peripheral. I was shocked. Where in the world did she come from and how come I'm seeing her pass at a full sprint? But I felt a surge of hope. I summoned my sprinting muscles and called them to duty. And they did their job. For about 20 seconds. And then the real me shined through- I saw there was no way to cross the line before her and chalked it up as good effort and finished the last little bit at a comfortable pace. I mean, 16 weeks ago my mind didn't even let me entertain the possibility of finishing in the same league as her with my 23-week-pregnant self. I forced comfort, insisting that I should just be proud that I finished, and even more so that I gave her the competition that I thought would be impossible. You win some, you lose some, right? And all these condolences were working....until later that day when the "real time" results were posted. That's right.....real time vs the standard race clock time. How could the staggered start detail flee my mind in my time of need? Where was that reminder? My official time started after Laura's, allowing me a few grace seconds. And what did I do with the grace time? Loafed them away. Causing this, the final standing- Laura Anderson 52:44, Gabrielle Hansen 52:46. It doesn't matter that I never thought this time possible 16 weeks ago. Or that I was 23 weeks pregnant. Or that I'm not competitive. Or that Laura didn't completely rub the win in my face. Or that Laura deserved the W. All that matters is that it's a lost 2 seconds I surrendered to mediocrity.

I'm sure I must have returned the challenge to Laura for Manhattan Beach 10k 2011, but I think she was a little nervous of this and went ahead and made sure she'd be 38 weeks pregnant for the event. Bad news, Laura.....a forfeit still equals a win for me.....it's 1-1. Can't wait for the rubber match..........

To be Con't.................................

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

2011-08-07T21:36:00.001-07:00

Trying to figure out how to use Blogpress. Maybe this will help me be a better blogger? Vamos a ver. For the next 13 days I'm going to be swimming everyday and roasting all varieties of s'mores and need to be documenting these important happenings. Maybe tomorrow I'll learn how to use my camera adaptor....

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Love Birds love birds

2011-08-01T17:55:00.000-07:00

So often times I ask Yosh if I drive him crazy. Because let's be honest, I drive myself crazy. And then I wonder what it would be like to live with me....if I wasn't me. You get what I'm saying right?

Top on list of annoyances (please note- these are simply annoyances, not the real "drive-me-crazy" things...):

1) I leave my chewed gum in random places, like everywhere BUT the trash cans. (Yes, I even found ABC gum in the shower the other day....gross.....)
2) I leave bobby pins everywhere.
3) I chew my tongue. Which Yosh says makes me look like a cow chewing cud. Who wants to be married to anything resembling a cow?

Now let's not act like the list ends here, I'm simply indulging you with a few. Can't give away all my secrets or else it would be impossible to maintain my totally-distorted-blog-image! {Insert literal LOL! cuz I literally LOLed.}

Just been thinking about marriages, how hard they are and how lucky I feel to be married to the person I'm married to. I swear, the longer I'm married the more I think, "Wow, I could only be married to Yosh. Don't think I'd make it with [anyone else]." Very grateful for young, guppy love and acting on it and jumping in head first to marriage without giving it too much (in retrospect....) thought!

Flashbacks

2011-07-22T23:44:00.000-07:00

I like days like today. Where I had a lot of flash-forwards of the flashbacks I will one day have. As I sat reading Deeter his truck book for the tenth time today while he ate his lunch, I saw myself in 20 years looking back to this exact memory and smiling as I remembered it. As I remembered the sweet 2 year old that knew how to finish a lot of my sentences. "The truck is....." ........."stuck," always shouted. I nostalgically remembered the innocence, the light that was hitting us just right. Even though it was happening right now. I remembered that is was just him and I. I felt the same way as I fed Kaia her rice cereal. As she was smiling up at me, I briefly had a memory. That when I was a little girl, I dreamed of feeding babies baby food, and after I put the food in their mouth, of wiping the excess with the spoon. Because for some reason, that was the most inviting part of the whole process to me. Today I thought how I don't get to do that much longer. And it made me sad. And then I saw myself in 20 years, reflecting back on this very moment as my sweet daughter gave me nothing short of huge smiles as I filled her tummy. I would remember these as the good ole days. Before she ever talked back to me, before we ever fought, before she ever told me she hated me. Because those days are bound to come. And that too makes me sad. These everyday things of feedings, changing diapers- while they may appear mundane- are what I know. They are my comfort zone. And while it's tempting to wish them away, I want to remember- right here, right now- to slow down. Because while they may not be the most pleasant things, I know how to do them. I know how to almost always get the babies to laugh while they're getting their booties changed, I know how to talk to them while I'm feeding them. And there are so many things that I don't know how to do. I don't know how to tell my kids that they are still loved and priceless when they're getting picked on at school. I don't know how to help my kids make good decisions when their peers aren't. I don't know how to teach my kids that it's cool to not be cool. But to laugh and joke and take care of and feed- I can do that. I want to hold onto this golden stage of life for as long as I can. Or at least soak it up while it's here.

I love these glimpses into the future that quickly take me back to today. They are little reminders to enjoy right now. They are gifts to remind me to slow down and don't fret the small stuff. Amazing reality check...flash-forwards of flashbacks of today.

Because who doesn't want to be the Cool Mom

2011-07-18T20:47:00.000-07:00

There are some highly-sought after titles out there to be obtained. Some are completely out of my grasp, others out of my interest, but there remain a select few that are both desireable and obtainable. And guess what? Sometimes I want to be the cool mom. The good news? I know how. The answer comes in one word. Really that simple. So simple that I think it's the first word Dallin ever spelled.

There is nothing more satisfying than the boys hanging out with their friends and hearing one (it's always the same friend!) of them say, "Dallin, should we ask your mom for some Oreos?" I always get a coy little smile before the question shyly escapes. And there is never hesitation...the answer is always yes. Even if we just got done with 10 other treats. Because no friend will ever be denied Oreos at my house. And for those of you that have ever caught me at the grocery store with a basket full of Oreos, you know that I'm not messing around. That's one of very few items I'll pay full price for if I'm desperate enough. And when I get lucky and find them on sale....watch out. The other day, I kid you not, they were 99 cents. Look, I couldn't even find a cents sign on the computer because sales like that are unheard of anymore. But that was the going price. The catch: limit 2. I'm not even going to divulge how many times I visited Ralph's during that little sale period. And I may or may not have had Dallin in line behind me with his $2.09 in hand to get us an extra 2 packs. But I refuse to be caught off guard. All it takes is hearing the kids reaction one time when you say "yes" and you'll be sold. Not only will you be sold....you'll feel pretty cool. Unfortunately that's about the only tip I have thus far on being a cool mom.

Always in a pickle

2011-07-12T21:56:00.000-07:00

You know I think I finally pinpointed what is possibly the most frustrating thing about parenting for me. This came to me as I had just finished a 2 hour bout of repeatedly putting Deeter back in his pack n play after he climbed out time and time again...times how ever many times you can do that in two hours. Because that's what I saw Super Nanny or Nanny 911 do once on a show that I probably caught a bit of some 5 years ago. And that's what I had to go on. No other tools in the shed you know. And after this incident, that is when I put my finger on the overwhelming frustration of parenting....and that is that you never really know that you're doing what's right. Or what's best. Or that you're for surely going to get the outcome you're seeking. I'm probably not alone in that I push ahead with my fingers crossed....but I really don't know. As I "parent", I'm simultaneously doing the nervous foot twitch because I simply am going off my best guess. And who wants to be putting all this time, effort, energy, and emotion into something that is nothing more than a "best guess"? It's quite a pickle. I'm coming to learn that when you decide to become a parent, you decide- most likely unconciously- to put yourself in many a pickles. Because so often we find ourselves stuck in the middle with no sure way to run.

A couple of months ago, I had a short interval with the two little kids before I had to run off with the two big kids and I wanted to make the best of it. With Kaia in arms, I asked Deeter if he wanted to go for a walk. By "walk", I meant to the end of the street and back. We reached the end of the street and Deeter was ready to turn the corner. I, on the other hand, was not ready to turn the corner. I tried the lawyer solution by explaining my definition of walk, but that little not-even-2-year-old wasn't buying it. And we were turning the corner. And the next corner. And the next one. Now surely the question in your head right now is...."Did you keep turning right?" Because by this point we would have been right back where we started if that were the case. Unfortunately the answer is NO. We were getting further and further away from home. Deeter did not have shoes on. I did not have a stroller for either baby. And Deeter does weigh somewhere in the neighborhood of 100 pounds. And with each step we took, I KNEW I was getting myself in a pickle. But I kept praying I'd be able to outrun the defense. But Deeter's a hard-baller and finally three blocks away, I knew I was stuck. We/I made the turn around and not a chance I was looking back. Because eye contact ruins everything. I was just praying that he was following. "Come on, Deeter, just this one time and I promise I'll never ask another thing of you." You know those desperate pleas you throw out from time to time that make absolutely no sense and have no chance of ever being adhered to. Well, that's the kind of dialogue I had running through my head. The one last plea. And it worked. For about 6 steps. And then there was no option, I was hauling his large self in one arm and that tiny little Kaia girl in the other. And we rounded a corner and before my arm fell off and he went down with it, I surrendered. He was going to have to walk. I kept up my pace and stopped to look back at the next corner and there he was face down on the tummy, arms a flailing, demonstrating your stereotypical tantrum. And I was out of pleas. I had spent my last one. And to think it only bought me 6 steps. And you know things are bad when some guy is on the street with his car door open, standing there changing clothes for all the world to see and looking at you like, "You should be pretty embarrassed right now." But I just stood and watched. Not the clothes-changing session, the tantrum. Because that's all I could do. It was another one of those parenting moments where you have absolutely no idea if you're doing the right thing, the best thing, or the thing that is going to work but you've picked it and are sticking with it. And I waited until that little Deeter popped up a couple minutes later with some casual comment like, "Oh....Hi, Mom." And if he was going to keep it casual, then I was going to keep it casual. So I kept walking, and miraculously so did he until he couldn't, and then I carried him until I couldn't and then I put him down and.......repeat previous tantrum minus the naked-starer. And eventually we made it home. Lesson learned. Better yet- reiterated. Because I knew better in the first place. But all in all, pickle was over. Until the next one came around. Because like I said, there is no escaping pickles as a parent. Get used to being in a pickle.

Biggest yet best pickle of all....you love your kids way too much to run away for good!

I thought it was a moment.....

2011-06-30T21:23:00.000-07:00

Tonight we were having a moment. It was just the boys, the baby, and I. We've been with family all week and were in a rare moment where it was just the five of us. We were all in a good mood, enjoying the outdoors. I was watching those little boys at the park, amazed at how they've developed from being a little baby like the one I held in my arms to these independant individuals. And I was feeling especially awestruck to be part of their journey. To be the one who gets to see a side of them that no one else is priviliged to know. To be able to love these specific kids the way only a mother can. We were having a moment. And I wanted to help them recognize this moment. "Boys, I'm feeling something super special right now." "What, Mom?" "I'm feeling so lucky to be your Mom, that you guys are the greatest-" "Mom, can you just come help me?" Let me rephrase that- I was having a moment. There was no "we" in this special moment. "But boys I'm bearing my soul...."

Because that's what I'll be having to tell Yosh after a heart-felt confession of one sort or the other. A heart-felt confession that is answered in one of two ways: a) silence or b) [insert some comment about the Cougars] "But Yosh, I just bore you my soul...." "Oh babe, I'm sorry, what?" Rule #1 in soul-bearing.... it's a one shot deal. No repeat available.

(you know I got nothing but love for you babe!)

Which is why I'm lucky to have this little lady in my life.

Although it's just a feeling, I think I'll be enjoying many a heart-to-hearts with her. Not just heart-to-sweetboysclosedearswhoreallycarebutjustcan'tfocus. Love my boys- all of them, love my girl.

ANNIE

2011-06-08T21:07:00.000-07:00

Here are my stars of the show...Daddy Warbucks and Rooster.

These boys were in "Annie" last weekend and what kind of a mother would I be if I didn't think they stole the show? So that is what I think. This was Dallin B's third time performing on stage and he did it like the seasoned pro that he is. It was Porter's first time on stage and, well, he too filled that role just perfectly!

I'll tell you what, the predicaments you're put in as a parent can sometimes be a little unnerving. Porter was up on stage acting like he belonged there but some of the words coming out of his mouth sure didn't belong there. The nerves were manifesting themselves through statements such as, "I already said that." And, "This is stupid." And, "This is Deeter's favorite part. Deeter is two." And I'll have you know the nerves were running just as high in seat 6D as I had to sit and watch this scene play out. In my head I'm thinking, "Does everyone know he's just nervous- that this is his way of showing it?" I'm also thinking, "Come on, Porter, you're killing me." I'm trying to send out vibes of, "He's really a sweet boy who has worked hard on his lines- please tell me you're grasping that!" So I sit there smiling strong, proud of my boy. And the last thing I'm sitting there thinking is, "You've got to be kidding me...he is exactly like his mother." Because when I get a strong case of nerves, I say inappropriate things. I lose the ability to think, but unfortunately not the ability to talk. And definitely don't lose the ability to giggle (like when I was getting married, or in front of the judge when I was 17) nor the ability to swing hap-hazardly at the individual making me nervous (like when I was proposed to) but these are all stories for a different time.

And we all survived without getting kicked off stage or passing out. And not a single person commented on the few parts that made my booty pucker. Only rave reviews. Especially of Dallin making his grand entrance. Imagine the curtains opening to him standing there like a Greek God. And holding the pose. And then holding it a little longer. And maybe even a little longer....until the grandeur of his entrance would be appreciated! Phew!!! Because I was beginning to think he might just decide to stand there basking in the spotlight until someone pushed him out to his spot!

Why is it that when I take pictures with the boys it turns out looking like this awkward, holding them up or down kinda pose? But with Papi- everything looks smooth. Maybe Cami will do a post about how to me more photogenic and natural! (Just a suggestion, Cam!)

Anyways, a big Bravo for these up and comers!

Potty Talk

2011-06-04T08:04:00.000-07:00

To the Man who RULES our House

Without a doubt, this is our captain. And I'll have to say his birthday was a success. I felt like it was a bit of a gamble taking the kids to the zoo but things went rather well. And looking back- my 18 hours of retrospect- it's no mystery why. As most other days, this little Sir was in charge. The difference yesterday...no rebels were in tow (namely: ME.) He had his ducks in a row and we followed him around like the leader he is and there were no meltdowns, no power struggles, just good times. At two years old, I always wonder if they really catch on to the birthday. And while I still don't know that, I think he knew it was a special day for him. By yesterday he finally stopped screaming, "Noooooooooooooo" when we said, "Who's having a birthday?" or "Who's turning 2?" or "Who's the Birthday Boy?" It was a gnarly week of prep but I'm thinking it paid off because a time or two, I heard him offer up on his own, "Dodo 2." Interpreted Deeter 2. And maybe a time or two even sang Happy Birthday to Dodo instead of interjecting the name Harrison as he's been doing all week. Oh he's a cute boy and glad to have him entertaining us.

Now yesterday, he wasn't our only entertainer. And in the moment I wouldn't have even considered this entertainment, but it only took an hour for me to have the first random chuckle at this incident and they've continued since. We were on our way home from Santa Barbara and had thus far had an excellent day. No melt downs (the boys.) No temper tantrums (me.) But I was a tired mama. Like stop and grab a Mountain Dew for the hour and a half drive home cuz otherwise I might fall asleep tired. And we had made it. We were there. We were home. I could almost taste it. Two miles to go. Three sleeping children. One barely having woken up. When a second one starts to wake. And he always wakes up like a bear, growling. So when this process began, I wasn't alarmed but knew to let him do his thing. He got out of his seat belt and I didn't say a word. I'm thinking, "Let the boy stretch out and maybe we'll avoid 5 minutes of growling/screaming." Dallin questions this and I tell him to relax. But then Dallin says, "Mom, why is he pulling down his underwear?" I whip around as fast as my little neck would allow to see this child, pants down, standing in pee-ing position. I can't quite wrap my head around what is happening. At a red light 2 measly miles from home, my mind will not accept that Porter is about to pee all over the back seat of the van. There has got to be some other explanation....but THERE'S NOT. I go into emergency mode ready to divert the disaster. "Porter, DO YOU HAVE TO PEE?" Who knows what he says but the answer to the question is more than obvious. So I hand him an empty water bottle and say, "Ok, well just pee into this." And we've done this a number of times. Without incident. No dirty hands, no splashage, not even necessary to touch the boy parts- it's the best port-a-potty ever invented. And he knows how to do this. So he takes the bottle. I'm desperately going in intervals of looking for my green light and hurriedly returning my eyes to the unfolding drama in the back seat. And he starts to pee....all over the back seat. And the floor. And my heart DROPS. And he keeps peeing. Images of the bottle of water he's been drinking. And the whole bottle of Vitamin Water. I'm watching it all come out. And I'm just huffing and puffing and pouting, speechless. That sickening feeling takes over me. Like when you're on a road trip and find out you've been going the wrong way for an hour and a half and the only way to get back on track is to take the same road back for an hour and a half. Because I was that tired. And that's how badly I didn't want to be cleaning up a mess of these sorts. But the potty kept coming. And the smell started traversing. And he pulled his wet pants up and sat down like, "WHAT?" Not a word to be said. I drove that long two miles home- defeated. And he rode those two miles home- satisfied.

I think my boy was still more than half-way asleep during this incident, bless his heart. We got home, I ate some brownies, put on my big girl pants, and got the mess cleaned up. Turns out his aim wasn't half-bad as he really didn't hit any material. He stuck to the removable mat and areas that a little 409 and towel took care of in no time at all. And like I said, in the short time that has passed, I've already had many a laughs. Thank you, Porter.

(you didn't think these were going to be pics of Porter doing his business, did ya?!)

Happy Birthday, Deeter!

Dreamin....

2011-05-29T18:25:00.000-07:00

Forget smaller feet and bigger boobs. Now at the top of my wish list.....energy!