Stalling

One of the greatest lessons I have learned from motherhood is how to milk the moment. I am doing this right now, even as I write this blog post.  I am milking this moment that both my mobile kids are in separate tubs, de-sanding after the park, completely entertaining themselves, without fighting, without getting into anything, without breaking anything, without rearranging the presents under the tree again. At this very moment no one is crying, no one is asking for anything, no one is tattling. Every thing is right in the world.  

I should be rushing them out of the tub and onto the next activity, or I should be mopping my now sandy floor, or folding the laundry.  But I am stalling. I am milking this moment of peace and quiet.  

Usually these rare moments of quiet mean that something terrible is happening behind a closed door. Like yesterday, when I suddenly realized that it had been quiet for a while, I found that #1 and #2 and taken EVERYTHING out of #2's closet.  In our tiny house every closet is packed like sardines. So you can imagine how much stuff was unfolded, unpacked, and unhung.

I knew it couldn't last long. #2 is yelling for me.  

  

pink and brown, sitting down

#3 sat for a whole minute before toppling over. She is 7 months today.

Santa's helper

So last night at our ward Christmas party #2 was running around with a herd of kids, when he accidentally ran right into Santa who was just entering the stage to make his appearance. Up until this moment I haven't been able to determine just how much #2 understands about Christmas, Santa, the whole bit. The boy doesn't talk so it's really hard to know what he knows. Well, last night when he ran into Santa, he stopped dead in his tracks, dropped his jaw and with ultra wide eyes was only able to mutter, "Christ Mas, Christ Mas!" Yay! He gets it!

Then while #1 and I were waiting in line to see Santa, she asked me if that really was Santa. I quietly told her that no, it wasn't Santa, but a special man who does a special job for Santa.... basically the Santa's helper story. Just then her friend who overheard her ask if it was Santa says to her, Yes, it really is Santa! And #1 says in a super loud, instructive voice, for all ears to hear No, it isn't Santa, just a helper. Ooops! Immediately the surrounding parents, reassure their kids that it is indeed Santa and one parent whispers to #1, "Please, keep that secret quiet."

I thought that was the standard explanation. I didn't know anyone really let their kids think that those kinds of Santas were the real deal. What do you guys think? What do you tell your kids?

I've always operated under the premise that the less you tell, the more mysterious Santa is and that makes it all the more fun for them.

Panda Express

I'm dedicating this post to my beloved spouse who finally found something that I could eat and like at Panda Express.  

For years Panda Express has been off limits because the first time I ate food from their menu I was prego with #1 and it totally grossed me out.  I hate dark meat. HATE HATE HATE!  When the food was served, it didn't look bad and didn't smell too bad.  But when that first bit of meat hit my lips I could tell like a mother knows her child that it was sick, wet, fatty dark meat. And I've never gone back.  

Last night spouse brought home the one and only dish that Panda Express serves that is exclusively WHITE meat, String Bean Chicken.  Not only was it only white meat, it was also fairly delicious.  

There is another mainstream fast food joint that has the dark meat problem, Qdoba.  Can you believe that all of their chicken is THIGH meat?!?!  (gagging noise)

Doesn't every one serve white meat now?  How can we live in the year 2007 and still have restaurants using dark meat? (shivers)

 

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

Where have I been? My email has been flooded with desperate PFP readers, begging for my return, pleading for a new post explaining my absence. Because there is just too much to write about, and because I don't want to totally loose your interest, I'm going to report my recent vacation by photograph.

We went up to Spouse's family cabin the day after Thanksgiving with lots of his family. The kids loved running wild with cousins.

I love this picture because it shows how #1 is so excited by the snow. Little did we know that we'd get three more huge snow storms in the next week and a half. #2 called it SMOW.

Who are these beautiful women? My dear friends from back in the day of flannel shirts and Dr. Martins..... high school. These girls are as good as they get; always inspiring me.

#1 and went to the local production of The Nutcracker with her Grandma and cute cousin. #1 was spellbound by the dancing, costumes and music. However, for a girl who goes to bed at 7:00, that late night got the better of her. During the Pax de Due, she struggled to keep her eyes open and helplessly said, "This music is so beautiful its making me sleepy." Then she passed out in my lap.

Here is a baby who loves babies. Every morning my nephew would greet #3 with a big "Hi baby!"

Here we are at Tempe Square. The kids loved the lights, but got tired and cold quick. We went with our long lost friends the Judds.

McCall, #3 and I. I'm really not taller than her (a former pro-basketball player)... just wearing four inch heels to trduge around in the snow.

My little sister tied the knot November 30. She was a lovely bride. #1 called her "the bride" all day. "Mom, can I go talk to the bride?" My new brother-in-law is really great, but makes me feel old because he's so hip and cool. I have his name for our Christmas exchange. What do you get a cool 22 year old musician?
These are all the men in my life, waiting outside the temple for little sister to emerge all glorious in her dress. My dad, spouse, two brothers and two bros-in-law. Handsome hunks huh? Especially that gentlemen in the shades. Next to him is my totally amazing brother who was on an 18 day leave from his tour of duty in Afghanistan. He is supposed to get home next May, so if you know of any single young women who could handle this honorable, rugged, smart man, point them his way.

Getting this picture was painful. I had big plans. We were all clean, all dressed up for my sister's reception ... perfect opportunity for our family Christmas picture, right? Wrong. This one was by far the best and #1 and #3 aren't smiling or even looking in the right direction. #1 loved the reception. She danced to the band and ran around with her cousins in matching dresses. #2 ate at least 4 pieces of cake. So did I.

Mom, Grandma, three of my sisters, and one sister in law. My dress is totally the wrong color. That's what I get for shopping while on Vicodin.

Now, I'm home trying to settle into reality. I hope that once I get my floor mopped and my Christmas things up I can start to think again and maybe squeeze a few creative drops out for my next post.

Da da-da DA: I'M OLD

I've tried to fight it; I've done my best to avoid it, but today the inevitable has happened. I'm thirty, 30 aka, old. To celebrate this fated day and in an attempt at self confidence, I'm going to divulge 30 facts about myself.

1. Born around 2:00 pm
2. Hate red meat (and ham)
3. Voting for Mitt Romney, not because (4) I'm Mormon but because he's the most qualified.
5. Almost drowned in a lake when I was 5, my dad saw my hair on the top of the water and dove in to save me
6. Love backpacking, hiking and mountains
7. Traveled to Isreal when I was 15
8. First crush was a boy in my 3rd grade class named Matt McKormick
9. Have had many, many roadside emergencies (not the car, me)
10. When I plan a meal, I start with dessert and base everything around that
11. When I'm pregnant I can't drink Diet Coke, it makes me sick
12. Met Adam Duritz, (from Counting Crows)
13. Wish I was an opera singer
14. Usually gain around 55 pounds when I'm pregnant
15. My older sister and I shared the same bed until I was 12
16. Love BYU Cougars!
17. Water skiied in my underwear
18. Married my high school sweet heart
19. Good at driving in the snow
20. Love Shakespeare
21. Been arrested and went to jail
22. Wrecked on a motorcycle (dirt bike)
23. I'm the opposite of a perfectionist, I'm a get-it-done-ist
24. Purposely burned my sister's neck with a hot curling iron (So sorry Jess)
25. Ran a marathon
26. For many years growing up, I used to wake up at 5:00 am to practice the piano.
27. Don't get offended very easily
28. Offend very easily (sorry everyone!)
29. Love a good controversial conversation
30. Don't listen to music anymore, just talk radio

Since it's my birthday (finger snap across my face), I get to ask for unreasonable things, right? So I want you, gentle reader, (that includes you, all you stalkers who never leave comments) to leave me a comment with an interesting or boring fact about yourself. You can be anonymous, I don't mind.

Now I want some cake. Happy Birthday me.

So long, farewell...

Tomorrow I will wake up sweating and running, packing and cleaning.  Then around high noon, the gold jeep, which will be filled with my family will pull out of the driveway and head north on the interstate.  A big turkey and lots of family awaits us in the north country.  That means snow and freezing and such. I shopped my legs off last night trying to outfit my little ones for the harsh weather on a shoestring budget.  Here are ten things I'm looking forward to:

1) Seeing my brother who is on leave from the army where he's been serving in Afghanistan and still has 6 months to go.

2)Waking up at 4:00 am to go shopping the day after Thanksgiving with my mother-in-law.  She is 70, but is the best shopper I know.

3) Pigging out on Thursday.  I was pretty sick last week and lost about 13 pounds..... It'll be nice for once not to feel totally guilty.  

4) Talking politics with my liberal brother and my feisty mother.  

5) Seeing dear friends like these and these.  

6) Spouse not working.

7) Littlest sister getting hitched.  I love weddings.

8) Staying up late talking with my family (or kicking everyone's butts in Cities and Nights)

9) Spending the night at my in-laws beautiful cabin in the canyon.

10) Having the chance to shower EVERYDAY!  YAY!

Faithful blog readers (all three of you), never fear.  I will check in a few times while I'm in the land of perpetual cold.  There is a very important post coming up next week, so be sure to check back.

Tribute to #1, as she turns 5

She's five! My baby, #1 is five! Born on November 10, 2002 at exactly 6:01 pm she weighed a whopping 9 lbs 2 ozs. Five years ago, #1 was in the NICU trying her hardest to breath. I was wiped out by strong pain medicine and hardly aware of the crisis going on upstairs. #1 has always been an ideal child. She was sleeping through the night at 5 weeks, eating 8 ounces of formula every four hours (take that you breast-feeding Nazis!) By two she was singing the ABC's and aiming to please. When #2 was born, she threw herself down our stairs begging for attention. Of course, I am so proud of #1, in every way. Her greatest talent is making friends. Everywhere we go she makes a friend, or two or three. When our neighbors moved in over a year ago, being the Christian people that we are, we never introduced ourselves. They seemed very different, and I totally regret that. We probably would have gone forever without talking to them if it hadn't been for #1. What a precious talent!

Here are some pictures to commemorate #1's 5th birthday

three months old

one year old

Valentine sweetheart, two years old

Disneyland train, 2 1/2 years

on her 3rd birthday

tight jeans update: ITS A MIRACLE!

Either I lost ten pounds in 5 days or the Modbe Naomi jeans really do indeed stretch to fit. I've been wearing them all morning, just feeling good to be alive and finally wearing cute jeans. In fact, I feel so young and hip that instead of playing Disney Sing-Along, right now we're listening to the "mix CD" (is this a real term?) my friend down-loaded for me from the Stephanie Meyers web page. I've got 18 more days of youth and I'm going to live it up! My kids are dancing to My Chemical Romance, instead of dealing with my aging chemical imbalance of hormones.

To celebrate this fine day of youth, hip-ness and tight-jeans-finally-fitting I'll probably visit my daughter's preschool class with birthday cupcakes, then party on down to our local Costco to buy rockin' things like bulk cheese and diaper wipes. When spouse comes home tonight, he'll be so excited by my new-found youth (and tight jeans), he'll probably sweep me off my feet and carry me into...... the family room where we'll cut, build and paint games for #1's birthday party games tomorrow. Definitely a hot night.

Then tomorrow I'll put on my baggy, shapeless, four year old capris and be a mom again.

tight jeans

I'm sitting here hoping to stretch out the new jeans I'm wearing.  They are the Modbe naomi jeans.  The promotional material promised that these jeans were cut to fit the typical 30 year old, three kids later and STILL look hip. We're not talking Mom Jeans here.  It may have been manipulatively flattering to also claim that these jeans run big, so order down a size.  I'm a sucker.  Five months post-natal and I've still got at least 10 pounds to go...... I definitely should not be ordering a size down.  But I did. When the package arrived I excitedly ran to the bathroom to see my out of shape body transform into sleek, hip, expensive jean hott-ness.  NOPE!  It was like putting on panty-hose; coaxing the pant leg up.  I could barely button them. My bum looked like link sausage against my legs.   They were so tight I started to sweat and then I had an even harder time peeling them off.  

I've kept the jeans around for a couple of weeks with the irrational hope of loosing enough weight to fit into them before we head to Utah for my sister's wedding.  Today I emailed the company with my problem and this is what they replied, "The jeans are made with Lycra so they do tend to stretch when you wear them. If you haven't already, I would suggest wearing them around for awhile and see if they stretch out at all."  

This was just enough encouragement to give them one more try. So here I am, watching the clock tick, waiting for the denim death grip around my thighs to loosen.  How much time should I give these babies?  When do I face the music and admit I will never fit into these "size down" jeans. Oh I wish, I wish, I wish these jeans would fit!

To be continued.....

It's November!

In this house we love November. November holds two birthdays, turkey-day and it also means we're that much closer to pulling out our Christmas CDs and putting up the lights. Happy November everyone!

Halloween

Have you ever had a Halloween BBQ? We did. Then we took our kids trick or treating. #2 was so excited by the whole event most of the time he just ran up to the door, said "trrrr treat....ganks!" and ran away without receiving a morsel. #1 was more savvy, she brought home about 55,000 calories.

#2, Peter Pan #1, Tinkerbell

#3, the most amazing baby of the world

According to #1, #3 can do all sorts of amazing things for a 5 month old. For instance, she put these wings on herself:

Allegedly, she has also put on a variety of hats and dress-up accessories by herself. She can also transport herself into other rooms, even though she can't crawl. I don't know why I can never witness these things myself. They usually only happen when I'm in the shower or otherwise indisposed and I come out to find #3 all dressed up, or in another part of the house. When I ask #1 about it, she tells me that #3 has done it herself.

My mom tells me that I used to blame my older sister for wetting my pants. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Making Room

This past week we moved #3 out of the bassinet in the master bedroom and into a crib in a room she now shares with #1. We have a tiny house, so there was a lot more work than you would think. We had to take down #1's double bed and put a twin bed (thanks, mom and dad). And then we had to put up the crib. Spouse had to basically re-build the crib because #2 had literally destroyed it. (Have you ever heard of another baby that won't climb out of the crib, but will BREAK out of the crib?) In the process of totally re-organizing the house to make one tiny crib fit, I found a huge stash of #1's preschool projects and papers. I knew her little heart would break if she ever discovered that I had trashed her precious things, so I decided to let her throw them out. Long story short, after a million tears she decided that there were only about 12 things that she could part with. In order preserve their special memory we took a picture:

She's wearing her "Hawaii-girl dress"

Just like Dad

#2 worships his dad. When dad is around, #2 doesn't know I'm alive. When Dad isn't home, #2 wears Dad's shoes, tries to use Dad's electric razor and finds the screwdriver to "fix" things. This is #2 "working"

Clarification on my last post

Ok, ok, ok EVERYONE! A little clarification on the particulars of the adult-halloween freaks is needed.  

1) It's totally acceptable for an adult to dress up for a Halloween party, or to trick or treat with the kids. My beef is with the grown-ups that dress up in costumes for no particular event, you know, just for work, or to go to the gym or Walmart. Why? Just to pay homage to the holiday? Now, there's an exception to the dressing-up-at-work rule: if your entire office is dressing up, then it is ok to indulge in the costume.

2)I love seeing my friend's tiny babies in their costumes.  And even when they try to not accept candy, I will certainly press it upon them.  What I'm against is total strangers bringing their babies trick or treating to my house, babies who aren't even close to eating solids.  And then its not like "Hey, we're just taking out baby out for everyone to admire." It's more like: no greeting, just out-held trick or treat bag, waiting for candy.  If you think this scenario is unlikely, come to my neighborhood for 2 hours and you'll believe it.

See I'm not a Halloween Scrooge! (Maybe just a bit inhibited) We've got pumpkins carved and lit on the porch as I type. We'll be home tomorrow night with the light on, ready to give out candy, even to the freaky people.  

PS Thanks to everyone for their comments, you know I love a controversy! 

trunk 'r treat*

#3 is dressed up as a baby, I'm dressed as a frumpy mom

Tonight the costumes were donned; #1 and #2 turned into Tinkerbell and Peter Pan and we crashed our ward trunk 'r treat* Halloween party. I say "crashed" because #2 ran around topless for at least half of the activity, and #1 got high from the sugar on the cake-walk cupcakes.

AZ is one of the few places where you find water games at a Halloween Party

Does there come a time when you are too old to trick or treat? I've always thought so. I could never shamelessly approach another adult in earnest and "trick or treat." However, this personal value is NOT universal. First you have your unabashed adult trick or treater, who is genuinely clueless to the fact that he/she should not be begging for candy. The other type of adult trick or treater is one who actually knows he/she is too old, but craves the fun-sized candy-bars so badly that they are willing to pretend that their 3 month old baby cares about getting candy at Halloween. These are the worst offenders.

Almost as bad as the adult trick or treater, is the adult costume dresser. Why, oh why would a grown woman dress up in a Halloween costume for work, or worse to go to the grocery store? It's not cute. IT'S WEIRD! So to all of you freaks out there that are considering crossing the adult appropriateness-for-Halloween line....DON'T DO IT!

*Trunk or Treat is the safe alternative to Trick or Treating. A ton of people back their cars up creating a path, open their trunks, (usually decorated trunk) and kids (and apparently some misfit adults) go from trunk to trunk trick or treating.

Tempe Family Fun Run

This morning #1 ran her first race. It was a one mile fun-run along the pathway next to the Tempe Town Lake. I told her that she could rest and walk as much as she wanted but the desire to win was too great for my four year old. She was so matter-of-fact explaining to me, "If I walk, I won't win." How did she get so competitive? After the race, I discovered that the one mile run wasn't timed or placed, but #1 was so determined to have won that I thought it would be harmless to just placate her and tell that yes, she was winner of the 4 year olds. I hate telling lies to my kids, of any kind. If its a sticky situation, I'll try to answer creatively. Like, "Where does Santa live?" I would say, "People say he lives in the North Pole." I know technically it isn't totally honest because I'm not correcting a false assumption, but I feel a little better than just totally going along with the myth. So my telling #1 today that she won was a difficult decision but I felt like she deserved that satisfaction after trudging a mile.
It didn't take long for me to regret it. Little did I know she was a trash talker. As our family waited at the cross-walk next to another family that had kids who were wearing the racing numbers, #1 said in a really loud voice, "I'm so glad I won that race and beat all the other kids." She totally intended for the other kids to hear it. That wasn't the end of it. She insisted having her picture taken with another little girl, so the other little girl could have a picture with the winner. How many times this morning has #1 mentioned she is the winner? Maybe 43.

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I wanted to post this picture of #3 because I love that her hands are blurry because she was flailing so quickly. Sometimes at night I'll put her in bed with me and until she calms down, my face is beaten by those convulsing limbs.

squishing spiders with his bare hands

My boy, #2, who also happens to be 2 years old, is not afraid of much. He picks up live spiders and squishes them between two fingers. He inserts fingers into the opening of ant hills. He puts his hand into his dirty diapers and grabs a handful of brown stuff to show he is fearless.* All the things I'm afraid of or grossed out by, #2 revels in proving his bravery. Because he such a brute it always pleasantly surprises me when he inadvertently does something not so manly, like trying on my hair-band.

doesn't he look pretty?

* Remember the Life of Pi?

#1 wishes she was me

Tonight while we were walking home from #1's singing group rehearsal, #1 totally ate dirt (granite rock, to be exact) when she tripped over a low bush.  When we got home and examined it in the light we discovered quite a chunk missing from her elbow and a few other fairly deep wounds.  She was dripping blood and was very upset. I cleaned her up and calmed her down, feeling very satisfied in my current role of comforter and healer, one of my favorite but rare roles.

Later while we ate dinner she said to me "Sometimes I wish I were you, Mom."  Considering this a good thing, but only half-heartedly trying to deflect the compliment I said something like, "Why would you want to be me?" I totally expected her to reply with some sweet sentiment regarding my nurturing spirit, or mothering abilities.  Her practical answer was "If I were you, then you'd be me and you would have been the one to fall."  Nice.

the Cha Cha

Ok, so this weekend was the big race, the Cha Cha. There have been a few inquires regarding my performance and some requests for pictures of the day. THERE WILL BE NO PICTURES! (at least of me) and as for my performance only a select few people on this earth will ever know the particulars of that awful, horrible, no good very bad run. My time is inconsequential, however I may be living with the terrible reasons behind that suck-y time for quite a while.

Among the people that beat me: 9 year old Zane Fink, 95 year old D. Dunn, and 8 year old Jazzlyn Beam. However, I'm proud to say that I kicked the trash out of 95 year old John McCowen. LOSER!!

Oktoberfest, way out west

Where can you find all colors of people sporting lederhosen, hundreds of drunk Grandmas, brautworsts for sale next to kettle corn, cheap carni rides, a cowboy cover band and an accordian band called the Dummkopfs? At the Oktoberfest! Way out west in Tempe, Arizona. We might have been the only people not staggering around with beer steins in hand. We were there early in the night, so the drinking people we very friendly and lively. Take for instance this couple who were drunkenly happy to pose with us.

No, I wasn't drinking - not quite sure why I have that wild-stare in my eyes.

Having never been to an Oktoberfest before, I hadn't foreseen the blatant exposure my kids would have to drinking. The Kinderfest activities and rides is what attracted us to the festival in the first place. I guess it gave me a good opportunity to re-enforce to my kids that we don't drink.

Here is a picture of our Oktoberfest gang, watching a performance of an accordian band play the Chicken Dance. Andy, Jane, Spouse with #1 and #2

And here are #1 and #2 whetting their taste for carnival rides - the AZ State Fair begins next week.

Yesterday was picture day at preschool for #1. I found her practicing poses in the bathroom, so I pulled her out and tried to convince her to look natural.

#2 loves hiding places: in his laundry hamper, in between the mattress and his sheets, the kitchen pantry. Yesterday I found him in the cabinet under my bathroom sink. Q-tips were everywhere, as well as unwrapped tampons and sponge curlers. I caught him in the act of stuffing his mouth full of Hall's menthol cough drops (the gross kind). I decided he needed to learn his lesson so I just let him finish stuffing. Unwrapped, they do look like a yummy cherry hard-candy, I didn't blame him for assuming so. A minute later he was gagging and forcefully spitting out the drops. He was so disgusted he tried wiping the flavor off his tongue with the back of his hand. This is a picture of him looking for trouble in my pantry.

mama's takin' us to the zoo

This is the cage I put #2 in when he misbehaves.
Ok, it's really the giraffe look-out at the zoo. We got there at about feeding time, so I fed them my kids. (Still joking here) We did arrive at feeding time so we saw the two ton rhinos munching their breakfast, as well as the two story tall giraffes. The rhinos didn't eat the giraffes for breakfast, the giraffes ate their own breakfast. ( Is thing on?)

The zoo was hot and humid, but a good time. The kids begged for overpriced churros and #2 couldn't keep his hands and mouth off the urine soaked ropes in the monkey habitat. We watched a mother orangutan playfully wrestle her little baby and then stroke the baby's back with her long so-human-like finger. Just think, in a few hundred years her kind will have taken over the earth and they'll be feeding us humans like pets.

In honor of the Biggest Loser (which I totally am, and not in the weight loss way) which I'll be watching tonight alone, I've made a double batch of snickernoodle cookies. Sweet spouse teaches a class at ASU on Tuesday nights so I've made a habit of eating fatty treats while I watch other fatties get fit. It's a double edged sword; I feel 1)totally inspired and motivated by these amazing people to get in better shape myself and 2) like I'm not even close to being that fat so I might as well just keep sitting on my can stuffing cookies down the hatch. You see, I justify my cookie binging as a way to ensure that I'll do an extra long run in the morning.

What is maybe?

#1 is always asking questions. And recently they have gotten pretty deep. "What is maybe?" "What is but?" How do you answer those questions? I have a college degree, (granted-the last five years I've been in a mental coma) but I can't muster up enough words to accurately describe maybe - can you?

This is a picture of my #1 and #2 eating marshmallows off the floor. This is what you have to do when your mother is starving you.

Busted!

#2 got busted today in Nursery at church. Kicked out! For fighting and bullying. There is another boy in his class who is a year older, but much smaller, and pesters #2 relentlessly. #2 is not exactly advanced in the speech department and is unable to intellectually keep up with his classmate's tricky, teasing. So he pushes him over. I'm torn between the sympathy I feel for my speech-delayed two year old, who must feel so frustrated by not being able to say "Give it back" and the fear that #2 will grow up to be a hoodlum, getting kicked out of school, becoming a "bad boy." My mom assures me that this will not happen.

Any advice floating around out there in the blogisphere? How do I teach my good natured, high energy, extremely strong for his age, speech delayed son not to hit?

cupcakes and quiche

#1 made dinner last night. Thank goodness, because I didn't know what I was going to make. But #1 volunteered and she actually did 90% of the work. She chose recipes from her kids-meal-prize cookbook: cupcakes and mini cheese quiches. The recipes were written out in picture form, so she could actually "read" the recipes. It was so cute to watch her cook and feel so responsible. #1 has a very limited pallet and I'm sure if I had made quiche for dinner she would have turned her nose up at it. However, because she was the chef, she ate every bite, even if it was with a bit of disgust. I have to give the girl credit, she didn't complain once. Maybe I should have her cook more often.

millions of peaches, peaches for me

Last night I picked up my order of UTAH peaches, the absolute best in the world. The house is fragrant with the sweet, nectary smell of those fuzzy gems. Today I'll be gorging myself and making peach baby food. I got this idea of homemade baby food from my sister-in-law and the more I read the more I like the idea. It's so nutritious and much cheaper. My freezer is looking pretty with neat little bags (frozen in one ounce ice cube trays) of applesauce and green beans. I'm not a very thrifty person, so this baby food making venture is making me feel very clever.

This morning is glorious. The windows and doors are thrown open wide and the fresh, cool air is reminding me that we finally have 6 months of exceptional weather ahead of us. This is the first morning when I haven't come back from my run totally dripping with sweat. I can tell its going to be a good day.

Jesus is a witch

Don't you think its a little tacky to serve funeral potatoes at a funeral?

(Funeral Potatoes are those bizarrely yummy potato casserole dishes made with tons of fatty stuff like cream of chicken soup, sour cream, butter, cheese.)

A couple of days ago this is what I watched #2 accomplish over and over again during lunch

That THING that is balancing in his nose is part of #1's Pollyworld set. #2 has made it his sword, and I guess nose adornment. He is fascinated with the possibilities of what his nose can hold. Other objects that have been stuffed into that orifice: huge nerfy bits that he chewed out of his football, many flavors of jelly bellies, (the obvious) peas and corn, several Polly Pocket pieces..... And the funny thing is that his nostrils are tiny. So in order to extract whatever lucky object is waiting inside, it is necessary for his nose to practically give birth, stretching to out of normal proportions.

Today #1 asked me if the Tooth Fairy is real. Unwilling to actually lie to her, I asked her what she thought. She first answered No, she can't be real. But then a look of horror flashed and her eyes grew big; she must have just connected the dots. If the Tooth Fairy isn't real, then the Easter Bunny can't be real and then......horror, panic......Santa Claus? She immediately changed her mind, Mom, I decided that the Tooth Fairy is real. This is the girl, who in her 4 year old logic concluded that Jesus is a witch.

No funny stories about #3 today. Just a terrible, mean, horrible little clip (that is also funny in a cruel, cruel way:

Ok, now that you must be thinking how horrible I am, let me please explain. I have just begun introducing rice cereal to #3 and on this day, she was very hungry and the cereal just wasn't going in fast enough. She had just let out a very different, begging sort of cry, one I'd never heard before and I really wanted to capture it. However, she never replicated the sound and after 30 seconds the poor girl had had enough so I turned the camera off. I promise I feed her and that she's happy. She didn't get to be nearly 16 lbs by starving!

One more random thought before I turn in for the night. 10-12 Sour Gummy Lifesaver can really clear up your sinuses. I'm breathing better right now than I have all day.

Five hours of ME!

Today my friend watched baby #1 and baby#2 for me for 5 hours!  It was better than Christmas. In my excitement I woke up early, got us all ready and stalled until it finally turned 9:30 so I could drop them off. Then as I pulled away, with only baby #3,  a giddy feeling of euphoria fell over me.  I could do anything!  Be anything!  For 5 hours, just me! (pretty much - baby #3 is only four months and as easy as pie) So with this precious time just for ME I managed to buy ballet shoes for #1, return a pair of gaucho length pants at ATL (they make my calves look huge - anyone else?), get decorations for the baby shower I'm giving in two days, get #3's pictures taken (despite the devastating puke she spewed all over her new, clean, ironed, cute outfit WITH matching bow) grocery shop for the shower I'm giving in two days, and take MYSELF out to Jason's Deli so I could enjoy a quiet meal by MYSELF.  (Ten years ago I wouldn't ever have eaten out alone.)  Once we all were home I had to pay homage to the clean house that I know is in here somewhere.  Well, enough about me.

1st Prize for JL

I hereby award myself the grand prize for posing.  Two weeks ago the blogging world was revealed to me and I've spent too many hours following links and reading blogs written by perfect strangers.  It's strange that I'm so interested in the lives of entities such as Focus Jennie, Hollywood Flakes and The Haphazard Life.  I guess I'm a voyeur.  Now I'm writing my own blog and that makes me the biggest POSER ever.   I don't have much to write about, nothing interesting to anyone other than me and maybe a few family members.  I'm not particularly talented or accomplished.  To find those things you'll have to visit Oh Happy Day or Design Mom.  But to give myself credit, I'm not the dumbest or the smelliest.  I've got three (yes, three.... I can't believe it myself) little ones and a handsome high-school-sweetheart-now-husband.  We live in an obscure little city in the suburbs of The Valley of the Sun.  

Well, I guess that's it for my blog debut.  I can't tell you how self conscious I feel sending this off into the internet abyss.