Family Christmas Letter

I have not posted anything for a few weeks due to an increasingly busy schedule.  My life now consists of working from 4 am to 7:30 am and then again from 11:30 am to 3:00 pm five days a week.  Needless to say, I am very tired!  I apologize for not keeping up on my blogging responsibilities!  With that said,  please read on for the Christmas letter I would have sent out if I were the type of person to send Christmas letters out...

Our Dearest Family and Friends,

This year has been quite an interesting, educational, and humbling year for us.  The boys are getting so old and are learning new skills such as different ways to express their utter disgust at the uncoolness of their parents, such as several styles of eye rolling, pouting, yelling, and verbal expressions.  It has been fun to see the creativity of each of our children from Olie down to Fuss. They have each grown so deeply in this area throughout the year, which truly makes parenting a joy.  

Olie is still into computers, reading, and anything educational (except homework). He is in the 6th grade and loving riding the bus every morning.  He has recently started his own website with help from D and has set up the entire family on it so that we can instant message with him while he is at his mom's house.  He is getting smarter every day!

Skater is more and more interested in skateboarding, his ripstick, and scaring me to death with his tricks.  He loves snowboarding and is very excited for this winter season.  He is in 4th grade, but thinks he should be in high school.  His best friends here at our house are in Jr. High, so that only adds to his teenage attitude, which we are learning to appreciate as much as we despise it.

Moo is in 2nd grade and feeling left behind.  He wants to be as old as his brothers and feels left out when they do things he is not quite old enough for.  He was very excited that he was able to ride all the rides at Lagoon this summer, even if it was only because we had him wear really tall shoes.  He is looking forward to being baptized this coming year.  He loves sleeping in, singing in the bathtub, and ham, cheese, and mustard sandwiches.

Fuss has been the greatest challenge for me this year.  He is now 19-months old, but thinks he is much older too.  This year he has learned to walk, run, and climb.  He has learned to talk and express himself through gestures and facial expressions that he has learned from observing his brothers.  He is into everything and thinks that he rules the roost.  He has an adventurous personality, but approaches things with caution.  He is full of life and energy and determination and stubbornness and perseverance.  

D is still loving his job as a network engineer.  He misses the boys and loves his time with Fuss, who has become his little shadow.  He stresses about everything, but is still willing to offer a helping hand wherever he sees a need.  He is the first to be willing to offer his knowledge or skills to our family, friends, and neighbors.  He is a wonderful father, supportive husband, and a great example to our children.  I learn more each day how much I appreciate and lean on him.  I feel very fortunate to have such a wonderful man in my life.  He is also pretty good at laundry, getting better at vacuuming, and this coming year we will be working on dishes and cooking!

As for me, this has been quite a year of learning and growth.  I was let go from my job in April and discovered that putting off the medical transcription course I had purchased a year and a half earlier was not the best decision that I had ever made.  As soon as I was jobless, I worked on the course diligently and am now working as a medical transcriptionist for a company in Arkansas.  It is great because it allows me to work from home and still be the primary care giver for Fuss.  I have loved being with my little man all day every day and have learned so much about curiosity, patience, and love from being with him.  I have also learned how much I cherish adult conversation.  I too miss the older boys when they are not with us, but sometimes miss the peace and quiet when they are here.  I hope for the day that they will live with us full time and that missing out on each day of their lives will be a thing of the past.  

This year we have learned that we can try to live off half of our previous income, but don't do very well at it.  We appreciate unemployment programs more than we had thought possible.  We have also learned that Clomid may work for 90% of couples struggling to have babies, but that we are in the 10% in doesn't work for.  I have learned that wishing to be thin does not make you thin and that the work must be more than just the thought of it.  This year has actually brought more trials than any year in our marriage (all 3 1/2 of them), and through it all we have learned that the Lord is by our side.  He has seen us through each and every trial we have faced this year and opened new doors of opportunity, love, support, and friendship.  Each time that I have felt like we have hit the bottom, we have been lifted up in miraculous ways.  

This Christmas season, as we celebrate the birth of our beloved Savior, our family will truly celebrate His love for each of us.  We have felt it so strongly this year and know that He is always by our side.  He is with us each step of the way and holds us up when we feel we are falling.  I pray for the peace and happiness of each of our friends and family members this year.  We are truly blessed through each of you.  You have also sustained us throughout this and previous years.  We are blessed by the even the limited contact we have with so many of you.  My life may not be what I thought it would be, but I am not giving up hope yet...or probably ever!  

Love and Peace to All,

D, Annie, Olie, Skater, Moo, and Fuss

Walking contradiction...

I am turning 33 this week (Thursday to be exact), and in considering the fact that I am getting older, I decided to reflect a bit. As I have reflected, I have seen myself as a walking contradiction. I know that it sounds a bit crazy, but when I explain I think you may agree with me. For starters, I have an honest and true desire to get back to my pre-wedding weight. Yet, I don't have the desire to work out for hours each day like I did when I was at my pre-wedding weight. When I get upset, I have a horrible tendency to eat. Yet, after I have eaten away my depression I feel even more upset. I love having a clean house, but I don't love cleaning it. Actually, I don't mind straightening, but I absolutely hate doing the details, like washing the walls and baseboards, mopping the tile, cleaning the toilets and tubs and shower, vacuuming, folding the laundry...the details. 

The thing that really got me thinking about this was last Friday. Fuss had been eating some mini Oreos that I had purchased for him in one of those little "to go" containers (like a normal package can't "go" with you anywhere), and I decided that I wished I had some Oreos too. So, later that afternoon when we went to the store, I bought some Double Stuffs (because if you are going to have Oreos there is no point in eating the single stuffed cookies). Once we returned home, I started cooking dinner. And as our frozen pizza was warming up in the oven, I opened my Double Stuffs as an appetizer, poured myself a glass of milk, and started to enjoy....and think. I wondered if it was an oxymoron for me to be dunking my beautifully delicious Double Stuff Oreo cookies into skim milk? On Sunday, as I was making dessert for my family, I pulled out a can of sweet and condensed milk to make some hot fudge (the best hot fudge you'll ever have)! As I poured the chocolate into the hot fudge, I wondered how many calories I was actually saving them by using light margarine and fat free sweet and condensed milk. I figured that it was worth the effort, but then I used a spoon to eat some of the extra hot fudge by itself later...not really saving the calories then. 

So, I have decided that my desires don't outweigh my actions. My mind contradicts my body. And I am in the middle of a two-way battle with myself, that either way I will lose...

Oh, the drama...

I thought that with having all boys I may be free from some of the drama that girls bring with them. I thought wrong. With the constant mishaps from the older boys, like Skater trying to climb out of the window during church last Sunday, my house is basically a broadway drama. I am just waiting to see who gets the Emmy. I am thinking it may be Moo with his dramatic way of throwing himself into a pouting fit and yelling things like, "You guys are horrible parents!" I think that if our 7-year-old thinks that we are "horrible parents" that we must be doing something right. It gets better though, after this particular scream I asked Moo what it was that made D and I such "horrible parents." He told me that he didn't know, but that his brothers are always mean to him. Then came my favorite (least favorite) dramatic monologue, "When we are at my mom's house, they tell me _____" (fill in the blank with whatever dramatic thought or action you can think of because it is different every time he is upset. I then have to break into my spill about how I have absolutely no control over what goes on at his mom's house, but that he knows that that behavior (or speaking) is not allowed at our house. And then continue with how we have to treat each other with respect. Sunday, after a particularly dramatic day, when Moo told me how "horrible" I was, instead of trying to find out the root of the problem, I just turned to him and said, "Really, cause you are absolutely wonderful right now!" in my most sarcastic voice. Sometimes you just have to be honest (honestly sarcastic). 

Sadly, the drama has not skipped Fuss. Last week D was chasing Fuss around, catching him, then tickling him. Fuss was laughing hysterically throughout the house. I was calmly taking a break from being mommy when Fuss ran into my room with his arms outstretched screaming, "MOM! Say me" (which is "save me" in Fussinese). He ran to my arms and laughed as I wrapped my daddy protecting arms around him. I loved that I was his protector, until the next day. Fuss brought me a barrette that he wanted me to put in his hair. I attempted to explain to him that his hair was too short and that barrettes are for girls. He got upset and started to throw a tantrum. I picked him up and started to get him dressed for the day (bad idea in the midst of a tantrum).  As he wiggled away from me, he grabbed my phone. He slid the phone open, pushed a few buttons, and put it up to his ear. He paused for just a moment then started a pretend conversation, "Gama! HEPPP!" (translation: Grandma! Helpppp!).  

Bathroom humor is not funny...

Fuss' fascination with the bathroom makes me suspect that he may be ready to start potty training. I am not sure why the interest in the toilet comes and goes every couple of months, but i am sad to announce that after a short absence of toilet bowl playing the interest is back. Just yesterday I was in my room and Fuss was playing in my closet when I had a feeling that I should to see what he was up to. I quickly turned around to see Fuss leaning over the toilet with the lid and seat lifted in one hand and his head and other hand well into the bowl. I screamed (and I do mean screamed) at him to get up. As he lifted his head I was overcome with relief that it was not wet--not even a drop! In my "I am upset" voice I asked him, "Just what do you think you are doing?!" His expression turned to one of intrigue as he lifted his hand out of the toilet with his wet binki in it and said, "Uh oh." Uh oh is right!! I have considered getting some of those safety locks for the toilet so that Fuss can't open it, but I am afraid that I will have some sort of emergency and not be able to open the toilet in time for myself. I mean, I do drink a lot of water and I no longer have a gallbladder (for those of you that don't have a gallbladder you know what I mean, and for those of you that still have yours be grateful and hope you never have to find out what I mean)...

Today, Fuss' potty playtime continued. However, he was more fascinated with flushing the toilet than actually putting things (like his head) inside of it. I would much rather he play with the flushing handle than any other part of the throne. The only problem is that the plunger is sitting in the corner behind the toilet (for easy emergency access) and the cleaning brush is hanging from the tank on the same side. These items seem to be too hard to resist for little hands, and I am frequently washing Fuss' hands after I pull them off the plunger. I keep thinking that I should just Lysol the plunger, but who Lysols their plunger so that their kid can play with it??

I did have one more bathroom episode this morning regarding my little man that is totally appropriate to share considering the topic of this post... I was sitting in my recliner, checking my email, totally minding my own business when Fuss ran up to me to be picked up to my lap, which of course I happily did. During the lifting process, my nose got a little too close to his bottom and I knew that he had created a mess for me to clean up. I told him, "You stink! We need to change your bum and get you a new diaper." I didn't know that my almost 18-month old was going to take me literally and take it upon himself to do the job. He climbed off the chair, and I really didn't think much about it because he rarely sits still for long anyway. The next thing I knew (and it is kind of a blur because of my franticness) I heard the sound of velcro diaper tabs being pulled from their secure spot on my sons abdomen. I turned around just in time to see the dirty diaper drop to the floor. In one swift movement I put my laptop down and was out of the chair and running toward the bathroom (at least it was on the tile) in a motion so fast I don't really remember the individual movements. As I was rushing to the bathroom, Fuss' little poop covered bum was running away from me. He giggled as if this were a really fun game for both of us. He stopped at the toilet, but by this point the toilet was truly pointless. I grabbed the wipes, cleaned him up, and told him that I don't know why he was running away. In this circumstance it wasn't like I was about to spank him by any means! 

I'm so popular...

I totally got tagged again. (Sorry Missy I know it was a couple of weeks ago, but I kinda got behind on my reading). Anyway, I am supposed to list 6 quirky things about myself....only six!

1. I am a little obsessive compulsive about a few things: Making sure that the doors are locked and tightly shut all the time. Making sure our alarm is set all the time. Checking on Fuss while he is sleeping. D giving me a kiss when he leaves in the morning, comes home at night, and before we go to bed. Laundry being put in the hamper when it is dirty. Washing hands constantly and consistently throughout the day--and making sure that the boys do too. Straightening the knick knacks and picture frames in my house. Just to name a couple...

2. When D and I have differing opinions and I really feel strongly about wanting mine to be the one we follow, I pout to get my own way. I know I sound like a 2 year old, but he knows that it is not real and still gives into me...can that really be called my fault? It works, and Fuss knows it so I am reaping the consequences of it. I still plan on using it though. 

3. Like Missy, If I am eating candy that has some sort of variety to the mix, I separate it by color or flavor. I then eat the random extras so that all the piles are the same size. Then I eat them one by one in a circle starting with my least favorite working my way up to my very favorite. If it is something like Skittles, I eat my favorite flavor (lemon) last, but if it is something like M&Ms, I eat my favorite color (green) last. I even do this with the little mini Hershey's bars. Plain Hersheys, Special Dark, Krackle, and then Mr. Goodbar. It is a sad reality, but you have to save the best for last.

4. I have to know what everyone else at the table is ordering in a restaurant before I can decide what I am getting. I especially have to know what D is getting, and I never get the same thing as him. If he wants what I want I either change my mind or talk him into something else, because that way we can share and try two different things. It is so bad that one time I ordered an entree that had mushrooms in it (which I love), and D turned to me and said, "You know I don't like mushrooms." 

5.  After I shower, I have to put my terry cloth robe on and I leave it on until I am done with my makeup and my hair is dry. I can't stand putting clothes on if I am even slightly damp. I have to be entirely dry...entirely! I have to put deodorant on as soon as I take my robe off, but before I put anything else on. 

6. I am a competitive person except about things that I should be competitive with. When I play games, whether it be card games, board games, or kickball, I prefer to lose instead of win. I mean, I do love winning, but if I lose it is not a big deal to me at all. I feel like there is way less pressure to do good or "hold on to the title" if you lose than if you win. When it comes to something intellectual though, or something that I think I should be really good at, which are usually things that you never know how you rank, I like to be the best. I actually get a bit of anxiety about it when I don't know how I rank. 

So, there you go...I am OCD, 2 years old, a save the best for last, more OCD, loser...and I am happy with no plans on changing. If D can live with my quirks then so can the rest of you!

Now, I tag Theresa, KD, Rebecca, Eskimo Bob, Julie, and Kimberli.

They're listening...

I know Fuss listens to me, because as I have mentioned he copies me and makes me all too aware of what I say and do. I also know that he is not the only child that does this to his parents. Children grow up way too fast and start to say things that make you have to take a double take to make sure it is still a toddler that you are talking to. 

For instance, in an attempt to teach Fuss what different objects in the world are, I often tell him things like, "That is a door. Can you shut the door?" to over emphasize what "the door" is. He is totally catching on, and let's face it he would have to be a pretty deaf little boy to not catch on to what I tell him over and over and over again. I love it when I get the chance to enjoy hearing his understanding. Like last week when he was playing in his room. I was in my room making the bed when I heard Fuss' bedroom door slam shut. 

Since shutting doors is the recent favorite activity in our house lately, I knew that Fuss was now trapped in his room. He can reach the doorknobs now, but he isn't quite tall enough to turn them. A few seconds later I heard Fuss yelling from his room...

"Moooooom"

"What, Fussy?"

"Da door!"

"Ok, I'm coming." When I got to his door, I decided to knock on it because Fuss also enjoys knocking on people's doors when we visit. 

He immediately responded with, "Is it?" I can totally understand this question considering he was trapped in his room and he wouldn't have known if someone else besides he and I were here. 

As I was telling this story to my I cousin who has two children, ages 4 and almost 2, we were discussing how fun it isn't that our children imitating us. During this conversation she was explaining that she was concerned that her 4 year old had recently began worrying about his weight declaring that he was "getting fat." As she expressed her concern to her husband, he expressed his thought that their son had gotten that habit from copying his mom. Shananigan immediately contradicted her husband with, "I don't say that I am getting fat! I say that I am already fat! There is a difference!" I agree with Shananigan, we mothers can't be held responsible for everything our children say, sometimes they must hear it somewhere else!

Happy helper...

Fuss is to that age where he wants to not only say everything I do, but he wants to do everything I do too. I have actually encouraged this behavior with compliments like, "What a bigger helper you are! You are such a good boy!" This is said in my high pitched mommy voice. He usually smiles his proudest smile and claps his hands in excitement. It really didn't take long for him to catch on to liking compliments. Now, he helps me in whatever I do. My suggestion for those parent's whose toddlers are not "big helpers" is don't worry about it. Be grateful that they don't have the desire to "help" you with every task you have throughout the day.

Yesterday, Fuss dropped his freshly poured sippy of Sunny-D on the tile floor of the kitchen.  At the moment that bright orange fluid was creating a small reservoir on my tile, I was wishing that I hadn't filled the cup so full. I thought that if I filled the cup to capacity, I would have a longer break from getting drinks than if I were to give him just a small cup or not filled the larger one. Either way, there was a huge mess that was getting bigger by the second. I immediately grabbed 2 dishcloths out of the drawer and began mopping it up. It was a 2 towel job! As I was doing this, Fuss grabbed himself 2 dishcloths out of the drawer and decided to help me mop. He threw them on the ground and stepped on them and dragged the cloths over the mess with his foot. Yes, I am lazy enough to mop up the drink with a towel and my foot, and I am teaching my son to be too. Then he used his hands to finish up the job until everything was nice and dry. Actually, I had dried the floor, he just made sure it was truly dry. Not a big deal that I now had to wash 4 dishcloths instead of just 2 more, until later last night. As I was cooking dinner I turned around to find Fuss kneeling on the floor wiping up messes with a dishcloth in each hand. There was also a pile of previously used towels that he had also used to "mop" my kitchen floor. So, now instead of only 4 dishcloths, I have a whole basket full to wash! At least I have a full load to do so they won't be sitting in the basket for too long!

Fuss also likes to "help" me pick up his books, toys, snacks, sippy cups, etc. He picks things up and throws them in the bathtub. Everything goes in the bathtub at our house. If ever there is something that I can't find where it belongs, I go to the tub (or the side of D's bed now that I know that one). 

The latest of Fuss' helping moments that I find oh so helpful came this morning. I was minding my own business and using the restroom. Fuss had been happily playing until he saw me on the pot. He came running towards me just as I was finishing up. I leaned down and grabbed my underwear from my ankles and pulled it up. Fuss immediately leaned over and grabbed the top of my sweats and started to yank them up. I took the waistband thinking he would let me finish the job, but he didn't let go until they were snugly sitting on my hips. I started laughing at this attempt to help me do everything, and I really do think that pulling up my pants for me completes the list of everything. Fuss looked up at me with his proudest grin and said, "Doo boy!" Then clapped his hands in satisfaction. How can I refuse help like that?

The sacrifice we make...

Here I sit at 20 minutes to 7 am typing in the dark. D and Fuss are sleeping in my room, and I am sure that the older boys are just waking up at their mom's house for school. I have been awake for the last 2 hours and 42 minutes. Why? Because as a mother, I am willing to sacrifice my sleep to be able to stay home and be the one that gets to raise my son. Due to circumstances beyond our control (child support payments), I don't have the choice to be a non-working mother unless I want D to work multiple jobs, which I don't. I am very blessed though to have been able to find a career that I enjoy that enables me to work from home. I am a medical transcriptionist, and although the starting pay isn't all that great, it is a sacrifice I am happily making to be with my baby. And the faster and better I get at it, the higher the pay will be. Luckily, I am a quick learner! My day now starts at 4:00 am, my work day that is. To start at 4:00 am requires me to wake up at 3:45 am, which requires that I go to bed by 9:00 pm--talk about sacrifice. I have to read the evening news the next morning on the internet. Then I have to tell D everything I read because he now goes to bed with me. I thought that this new arrangement would be so easy for D. Go to bed early, sleep until the normal time he wakes up (7:15 am), and then go through his normal day. So far, it hasn't worked out that way at all. 

This morning Fuss woke up at 4:45. I sat in my office wondering if D was going to hear him, or if Fuss would just fall back asleep. Neither of those things happened. So, I stopped working, poured Fuss a sippy full of milk, found a binki (knowing that the one he went to bed with could be anywhere in his room), and went to Fuss' room, picked him up, and took him in to D. All the while I was thinking that Fuss would lay down, cuddle up to his dad, and go back to sleep. Instead, he coughed so hard from the stupid cold he is getting that he threw up on my side of the bed, on the sheets that I just washed yesterday! He needed his diaper changed, and he wanted to play. He cried for his mommy a bit, which broke my heart as I sat in my office with the door closed, knowing that if he saw the light he would come to find me. The sacrifice that I gave up this morning was to cuddle my child when he wanted me. I could do it because I knew his dad was there, and that I would get to spend the rest of my day with him. Fuss was finally starting to go back to sleep when I hit a button on the computer that messed up what I was typing. After several attempts to fix it myself, I had to go get my computer genius husband to fix it for me. Of course, Fuss wasn't going to let daddy go to mommy's office without coming himself! After fixing my faux pas, D turned to me and said, "I may as well have woken up at 4:00 myself!" All I can say is, " Touche, my love! Touche! We all have to make sacrifices for me to work from home..."

My little copycat...

Everything I do is imitated by a 1 year old. I think that it is just the curse of being a parent, but it is almost like having a little parrot following behind you all day every day. For example, Fuss picked up one of his many baseball caps today and placed it on his head. I said, "You got your hat?" (I know, great English right!) He replied with a nod of his head and said, "Hat." Then he continued to repeat the word over and over and over and over until he found a new object to be obsessed with. It is so fun to have my baby talking and being able to understand more of what he is saying. He has been blabbering on like we know what he is talking about for months, so to actually be able to understand a few words is incredibly exciting. (I know again, my life is so mundane that this really is the most exciting thing in it!) 

Anyway, I started to notice more of his repeating what he sees and hears last week while he was in the bathtub. As I have mentioned before, Fuss is a climber. When I see him on a counter or table that he shouldn't be on, instead of scolding him so that he stops, I play a game with him which I am sure just encourages him to climb even more. I really need to think about things before I do them. Regardless, when I find Fuss on top of something he shouldn't be on, I stick my arms out in front of me and say, "1, 2, 3, Jump!" and he falls into my arms. So, the other day Fuss was sitting in the bathtub and I was standing by the counter watching him. He placed his rubber duck on the edge of the tub, then said (for the first time ever) "1, 2, 3, Jump!" at which time he pushed the duck from the edge of the tub into the water and shouted, "Yeah!" It honestly was one of the funniest things to see. And I am sure something that everyone reading this is thinking, "So what" about, but most of you are mothers, aunts, or big sisters so you can understand. The greatest part is that now I can tell everyone that my 1 year old can count to 3! Who cares if it is always followed by the word "jump?" Jump could be a number in some language somewhere, I guess...

The other newest trick of my little Fuss that I am sure he had to have learned by mimicking someone else, is whispering. I have no idea how or when he learned this, but he totally has the concept down! It was about 4 a.m. on Sunday morning. Fuss had been crying in his crib and refused to settle down and go back to sleep. So, I had picked him up and brought him in to lay with D and I in our bed. He had been there just a few minutes when he cuddled up to me and in his normal volumed voice said, "Mom." I immediately put my arms around him and said, "Shhh, Daddy is sleeping." To which he responded by whispering, "Mom." I was so caught off guard by his response that I started laughing, which only brought on another half hour of my name being whispered over and over again. 

The scary thing is that I am so seeing myself and my actions in him. Even when he throws a fit, he reminds me of me when I am angry...not a great thing to have to recognize. There is some good coming from his repetition of others though. When someone is crying, he immediately wants to hug them. When we pray he folds his arms and bows his head. When it is time for bed he has to hug and kiss everyone before he goes to sleep. When people are leaving he has to hug them and stand on the porch and wave (or on the couch and wave through the window on cold mornings when Daddy is leaving for work). And when we read stories that have touch and feel pages, he grabs my hand and makes me feel everything on each page just like I used to do to him before he got the concept. I am thinking that tomorrow I will see if he can copy me in taking out the trash. It really would be nice for that to be his job!

That's where they go...

My mom once read an article about how people perceive if your house is clean upon entering it. Then she told me about it...I am not sure how I should take that piece of friendly advice...Anyway, the list (as close as I can remember) goes something like this.

People perceive your home to be clean if the following items are followed: 

1. There is no mail piled on the counter. There is a very good reason that I pile all the mail in the office and then shut the door....just don't ask to see my office.

2. The beds are made. I pretty much make my bed every day during the week. The weekends not so much. However, the only reason my bed usually gets made is because as I go through the house looking for Fuss' binki, at some point I have to tear my bed apart to see if it is hiding in the mess of sheets and blankets. While I am doing this it just seems easier to make the bed since I am already pulling at the sheets anyway.

3. I think this one was something like if there are no dishes in the sink. Anyone who has come into my house knows that this is a rarity. Every time I get the sink completely dish free, either someone wants a drink, or I find a random dish in a room other that shouldn't have been there in the first place. 

4. I think this one was something like: The house smells fresh and clean. There is no disturbing odor. All I can say with 5 men/boys living in this house, THANK GOODNESS for Glade candles and Febreeze spray!

5. I really don't remember the last one either, but if I were to make it up it would be: There are not random items shoved in random places that don't even make sense. This stems from the fact that while cleaning my house on Saturday in an attempt to make it presentable for Skater's birthday party on Sunday, I came upon a pile of laundry shoved between the night stand and the hamper in mine and D's room. When I asked D why the pile of laundry was sitting next to the hamper his response was, "Those are things that I am going to use again." Really? So, the concept that he is presenting to me is that if we are going to use an item again then we should pile it in a small and conspicuous place in the house. When I brought to D's attention that we rarely use things in our home only once, and that if we followed this rule with everything, he would not be able to get in to bed because the floor on his side of the bed would be overrun with things we were going to use again...aka everything, he just shrugged his shoulders to let me know he didn't really follow my logic. 

All I can say is it is a good thing I am a stay at home mom instead of D being a stay at home dad...otherwise my home might never be clean!

Battle wounds...

I think that Fuss is at that point in his young life that he will always have some sort of bump or bruise. Yesterday he refused to walk on his foot and any time he would put any weight on it he would whimper and cry. Now, my child bumps and falls and scratches and all sorts of things all the time without crying. The only time he really cries is when he is really hurting. So, of course I was worried. I called Angel to see if she could come watch him limp around to see what her opinion was. I needed a second opinion on whether or not his unseen injury was doctor worthy. I had pushed and squeezed and poked his entire foot and leg. Instead of whimpering in pain when I hit the spot that was hurting him, he laughed the entire time. Unfortunately, Angel wasn't home, but suggested that I walk next door to her house to see if he would run around like he was in charge of the place like he does every time we go over there. As soon as her daughter opened the door, I tried to set Fuss on the floor. He cried and lifted his feet and refused to be put down. Angels daughter asked immediately if there was something wrong with his foot and if I was taking him to the doctor. If a 12 year old notices, then it is probably doctor worthy. Since I knew he wasn't faking it, because how would a 1-year-old know how to fake limp, I decided the doctor was the only choice. So, our monthly visit to the after hours Kids Care began. Fuss immediately began hobbling around the waiting room, the consultation desk, the exam room, the x-ray room, and then the exam room again. Following the x-rays the doctor told us that there was swelling around his ankle and that he had a sprained ankle. Great! How does a 1-year-old sprain his ankle? I have no idea! How does a mom not know that her 1-year-old has sprained his ankle? For the rest of the night and all day today, Fuss has hobbled around walking only on the toes of his right foot with the tiniest Ace bandage I have ever seen wrapped around his little foot. He whimpers when he slides down the bed and lands on it, but other than that it hasn't slowed him down one bit! 

Tonight, D and I went out to dinner. When we returned to D's parents' house to pick up Fuss, he was crying. He had fallen off one of the kitchen chairs and hit his head, but no one knew where. As apologies were flying towards me and Fuss, I had to point out the big bruise in the middle of his forehead from falling Halloween morning, the red mark next to it from hitting his head on the corner of my laptop screen today, the purple toe nail from dropping a can of hairspray on it last week, his purple fingernail from slamming his finger in a drawer last month, the scratch on his chin from falling on our neighbors porch Halloween night, the scratch down his arm from me picking him up with a broken fingernail that I was unaware of, the 2 scabs on the other elbow from mosquito bites, the red mark on his cheek that I think maybe a zit, but I don't know, and the sprained ankle...all of which happened while he was in my care. I can't really be judgmental about a fall from a chair. One thing is for sure...Fuss inherited my lack of coordination! 

A few bumps in the road...

Today has been an interesting day in the life of a 1 year old, which has been an roller coaster of emotions to watch. I look at my little Fuss and I have to think...it must be hard to be that age! The morning started with Fuss' first gesture of helpfulness, which I found to be amusing. D was getting ready for work, and as he got dressed Fuss ran into the living room to get D's shoes. At first I was thinking that this is a pretty smart kid on my hand to know when his daddy needs his shoes, and to remember where they are. D was very appreciative of this gesture. Seconds after putting his shoes on, D was walking out the door. Fuss and I stand on the porch when it is warm enough to wave goodbye as D leaves, otherwise Fuss cries when daddy goes to work which makes a mom feel so good! Anyway, as D is walking down the front steps he says, "It feels like there is something in my shoes." I am totally thinking a rock or something that could have gotten in there anytime, maybe even the sole was coming up. As Fuss and I were standing on the porch, D opened the door to his car and took off his shoes to which he declared, "LEGOS! There are legos in my shoes!" Oh, how I loved my little Fuss and his love for putting things in random places at that moment. It was a great way to start my day!

Then came the down of the day...I was leaving on some errands and knew Fuss would come running if he heard me turn off the alarm and open the door, and he did. When he was almost to me he realized that he had forgotten something very important and ran back for it. I honestly thought he would be back with his blanket, binki, or sippy cup, but instead he came running down the hallway as fast as his chubby little legs could carry him with a bottle of my perfume in his hand. Maybe he thought that I was stinky...I don't know. But as he got to the place where the tile and the carpet meet, he tripped and went crashing head first into the tile. The problem was that the lid to the perfume flew off as he flew and his head landed right on it squishing the lid between his head and the tile, and leaving a bumpy bruise that looks like a third eye in the middle of his forehead! Oh, the tears that were cried. The only way I could get him to stop was to promise him I would get him some Cheetos when we got to the store. That cheered him up!  

The rest of the day seemed to go ok, other than the 2 phone calls to fake numbers, 2 phone calls to D, and the call to 411 Fuss made while playing with my cell phone. Even when we went on a walk to get the mail and he hugged the light post in front of our neighbors house for ten minutes and declared, "ligh" whenever I told him it was time to go. After that I was ready for a little relaxing time. We came inside. I turned on the TV and my computer and Fuss sat on the floor with his book. A few minutes later Fuss got up, walked over to the TV, and turned it off. I immediately told him, "Please turn the TV back on." He pushed every button on the front of the TV except the power button. I was sitting 5 feet away in my chair telling my 1 year old, "Not that button. It is the one on the end. No, the other end. Push the one on the end." Just as I was thinking, "this is ridiculous!" Fuss walked over to the little table at the side of my chair and grabbed the remote that was sitting right next to me the whole time, until now...Now I really don't know how the TV will get turned back on.

It was a trick...

As an update to my previous post regarding the extreme numbers at the zoo trick-or-treat occasion...I KNEW there were more people there than had ever been there before, and now I have proof. I received the following email from the zoo today!

I hate to say it, but I cannot ever share this information with my husband...he might not forgive me for making him go!

I'm it again...

I got tagged again...I told you I was popular! This tag was a journey of self discovery. Oh, how I wished that I didn't follow the true instructions, but I did! The rules are: You have to take pictures of the following things immediately! There can be no cleaning, straightening, or wiping your child's nose! 

Here goes a peek into my life...hold on!!

1. The kitchen sink...complete with dishes that you would assume were from last night's dinner, but we didn't eat dinner at our house yesterday.  Angel and Mike had us over for dinner--Mike

 cooked!! We had Taco Bell the night before, and dinner at D's sister's house on Sunday. So, it can be easily concluded that these dishes have been here for a while...

2. The laundry room...we believe in piling things on top of the dryer. Hey, it is the only place in my tiny laundry room that there is room to put something. Well, there is the washer, but then I couldn't open it to do the laundry I obviously don't do. (Notice the basket FULL of towels on the side).

3. The fridge...well decorated with pictures, bulletins, and other random items. This one could have been much worse if I would have taken a picture of the inside!

4. Bathroom...I chose the kids bathroom. Notice the cute decorations in the mirror, but please ignore the water spots on the bottom of the mirror. If the cupboards would have been seen, you would have seen the toothpaste marks on the cupboards below the sink.

5. Closet...I chose mine and D's closet. I really don't know why. I know...we need to de-junk! 

6. Favorite room...I chose the living room, because it is really the only one that is slightly presentable right now! Of course there is the mini volleyball in front of the fireplace. Fuss likes to stand at the top of the stairs across from the living room and throw balls down to watch them bounce into my living room.

7. Favorite shoes...I would wear flip flops year round if my feet didn't get too cold! Do you like the spot on the floor next to them though? I found my shoes right where they belonged...in the kitchen. Someone needs to mop around here!

8.  Self portrait...if this doesn't inspire me to get ready before the middle of the afternoon, nothing will! Seriously! No makeup, hair not done...so scary!!! I am wearing an old "design team" t-shirt from cosmetology school, and if you could see my pants you would see they are plaid pajama pants--pink, green, and white---I so don't match or look good in any sense of the word!

9. Children...the older boys are at Luci's, or more likely school! While I was running around taking pictures of my house and sadly me, Fuss decided to climb onto the counter in the master bathroom, which is his favorite spot recently! Earlier I found filling the sink. He thinks he is so funny. I can hear him on top of my kitchen table as I type this...ugh!

10. Dream vacation...Luckily I have a picture from Paris in my living room. I want to go to France more than anything! D is fluent in French, which is really just a bonus in case we ever make it there!

Now I get to tag...I choose Brianna, Carly, Julie, Kacy, Lisa, and Rachele! Have fun! Hopefully you will be better prepared than I was!

Trick more than treat...

Yesterday I had a brilliant idea! We (I) decided that we should take our boys trick-or-treating at the zoo. This year we joined the zoo as a family membership. I didn't even know that you could join the zoo. I had hoped that there would be a habitat for us with comfy beds and food served regularly...there wasn't. It just means we can go to the zoo as often as we want for a year without paying anything more. D and I have never had the opportunity to take our kids trick-or-treating. The way the custody agreement works out, Luci has had the boys on Halloween every year since holidays have been split. So, I decided that it would be fun to take our kids trick-or-treating, and since you can't really knock on your neighbors' doors 6 days early, so going to the scheduled trick-or-treat at the zoo seemed like the best idea. The problem is that we weren't the only ones who had this fantastic idea...half the people in the state did too! I guarantee that there has never been that many people at the zoo at one time ever before. I think that 90% of the people that have ever been to the zoo were there yesterday.

Our day began at 7:00 am because I was sure if we were there near 9:00 when the zoo opened that the crowd would be significantly less than in the warmer afternoon. Whether I was right or wrong really doesn't matter, because if there was more people there in the afternoon they would have had to put a sign up that read: "Full to Occupancy--Every Square Inch Occupied!" Let's face it, my plan was the greatest one that I have ever come up with. It was so full of flaws right from the beginning. Since we don't ever have the kids on Halloween, we don't have costumes. So, I bought some face paints, but Olie and Moo didn't want their faces painted. So, our make shift costumes were as follows: Olie wore jeans and a T-shirt and left his hair messy. When I asked him what he was he said, "a boy who just woke up." Skater wore jeans and a T-shirt and painted his face like a bloody, dead zombie. He said he was a "Skater zombie." Moo wore jeans and a T-shirt with a plaid flannel shirt over it and a straw cowboy hat. He was a cowboy, but didn't have any boots or really look like a cowboy. Fuss had a costume. He was a dragon, and a cute one at that! 

When we first arrived at the zoo, people were parking blocks away and walking. D asked if we should find a parking place. I assured him that we shouldn't park miles away. As we got closer we discovered that the entire parking lot was full, the 2 parking lots across the street were full, and there wasn't a spot on the street as far as the eye could see. The line of people waiting to get in was the entire length of the parking lot and back around the first line of cars. D is not a patient man when it comes to crowds, so I assured him of a secret parking lot with its own entrance. Luckily, we were one of the first to find it and were able to get in with just a short wait in line. However, that was the only short line we stood in for the next hour and a half! By the time we left, our secret parking had been discovered and over taken by countless cars. The insanity continued!! 

We got to trick-or-treat at a couple of booths without waiting 10 minutes just to get to the booth, then we hit the main part of the zoo! All I can say is "HOLY CRAP!" There were so many people lining up just to get a piece of hard candy, or some tootsie rolls, that you might think that all the stores ran out of candy and this was the last chance anyone had to get any. An hour and half after we arrived D asked if we had been there long enough for the kids to experience the "Boo at the Zoo" and for us to have experienced taking our kids trick-or-treating. We had only visited 10 booths at the most! He promised that if we left we could stop at the store and buy the kids candy, but we didn't. Regardless, the kids had a fun time. I am still wondering what possessed me to experience this once in a lifetime adventure (because we are never doing it again!), and D is learning more patience in crowds. There really is nothing like filling a large area like a zoo to its brink and sticking my honey in the middle of it! Most of all, Fuss learned that if he dresses in a cute costume and holds a bucket that people put candy in it. This fascinated and delighted him for the rest of the night! Oh, the joy of what the real Halloween will really be for my 1 year old!

Tagged again...

I was tagged again...I must be pretty popular! Anyway, for this tag you are supposed to go to your photos on your computer and find the fourth file then pick the fourth photo. We actually have 2 files of photos, one under my profile and one under D's. I liked the picture under D's better, so it wins! This is a picture of Fuss and his favorite nanny, Didda, on New Year's Day 2008. We went sledding as a family. Since Fuss was only 7 months old, it was obviously his first time, but not his last! We love the outdoors, and D's Grandpa has the perfect sledding hill at his house in Idaho, so we will be going again when the snow starts falling!! Anyway, when we got to the sledding area, the largest hill was facing the sun and mostly melted. At first we were a little disappointed that there was such a small hill to sled down, but the kids had a blast! I actually love the expression on Fuss' face in this picture because it shows just how much he loved it! He didn't know what to expect and this may very well have been his first time down the hill! As a parent it is hard to trust other people with your child, but with Didda I never had to worry for even a second! She was the best nanny a child or parent could ask for! Obviously I trusted her...I let her take my 7 month old son on a piece of foam board down an icy and snowy hill with no protective gear!

So, I guess I am now supposed to tag 4 people...hmmmm...I choose Kati, Rebecca, Elizabeth, and Monica! Get those photos ready!

I am expanding my horizons...

I have a lot of time on my hands. I am only a wife, a mother, a step-mother, a medical transcriptionist, a web content writer, and I have church responsibilities...so not a lot at all! And because I have SO much free time, and I am so good at keeping up on this blog, I have decided to create a second blog. This second blog is not a reading blog, that would require way too much thinking on my part. It is a photography blog, so to speak anyway.

I would like to reassure my friends that have photography blogs (many of whom I worked with as a professional photographer), my blog is in no way competition for your blog. See I used to be a photographer in a studio. I was pretty good if I do say so myself. I had many customers request my skills for taking their children's pictures. When you view my skills on my second blog, you will undoubtly ask yourself, "WHY???"

Here is the thing...In the studio things were set up for me: the camera was in position, lighting was set, backgrounds were in place, props were available, and all I had to do was get children to smile from the side of the camera. Behind the camera I am horrible snapshot, point and shoot photographer. My husband bought me a very nice camera that after 2 and 1/2 years, I still don't know how to use! So in my angst, I have decided that it is time to share my photos with the world. I mean with as many skills as I don't have, what is the point in hiding them? So, please feel free to visit the second stop in my insane reality. Enjoy, comment, and return here for more enlightening opinions and observations of life...

www.hownottotakepictures.blogspot.com

He just doesn't get it...

The other day D and I were watching "Two and a Half Men" on TV. Charlie was teaching his nephew, Jake, stupid jokes that all kids learn sometime in their lives. For example, Jake's dad, Alan, was sneezing and Charlie said, "You'd think it was a cold, but it-s-not." I couldn't help but to think back to Sunday. We were at a church and the boys were eating from their mini baggies filled with goldfish crackers. I know, why do our kids have snacks at church when they should be old enough to survive without them? It is for my sanity. Our church is from 11 am to 2 pm, which means that it is right in the time frame that I would be making them lunch if we were at home. It is because after several weeks of complaining about how hungry they were and could we please just go home, I decided that I would let them take a small bag of crackers to ease their "starvingness" and complaints. Anyway, they were eating their crackers. Olie was sitting next to me, and although Fuss had his own plethora of treats and snacks, he insisted on eating Olie's with him. Once Olie's were gone, Skater decided it would be funny to tease him. Skater leaned over and asked Olie if he "liked seafood," to which Skater promptly showed him the chewed up crackers in his mouth. I am quite familiar with this prank since my brothers and sisters and I showed each other what we were eating in the same manner when we were kids. I am sure all of you probably did too. Anyway, as the boys were giggling (quietly), Moo decided he wanted to play along. He turned to me and said, "Annie, do you like fish?" When I said, "Yes, Moo, I like fish." He moaned in realization that he had no where to go with it...if only he had asked if I liked see food. 

So, you admit it...

Every day I hear the words, "I didn't do it!" by one of the boys. Whether it be a question of leaving the bathroom door open so that Fuss could get in and climb on the counter or play in the toilet, or if it is who was hitting and kicking who, no one admits to whatever it is they are doing (or not doing). A brief synopsis of my day would be:

"Who left the milk out?" "Not me!" (up to 3 times)
"Who left the fridge door open?" "I didn't!" (up to 3 times)
"Who left their snack (or wrappers) on the family room floor?" "It wasn't me!"
"Who kicked who first?" "He did!"

I would give anything for a peaceful moment of honesty in my house. When the kids aren't not admitting anything that they have done, I have the great pleasure of being ignored. I call the boys to dinner 3 times, then I am done and they go without. Yesterday morning, I was fixing Fuss a bowl of cereal. Olie was still sleeping, and D had gone to work. Skater and Moo were upstairs in the family room. I called up to them to ask if they too would like a bowl of cereal. The second, more stern yell received a positive response from both of them. I told them to come down to the kitchen and I would fix a bowl of cereal for them. Skater came right away and was happily eating while I was still waiting for Moo. Wondering if the TV was too loud, or if he was just choosing to ignore me, I asked, "Are you ignorning me?" Imagine my surprise when I received a matter-of-fact "Yes!" from upstairs. At least he admitted it. I guess you've got to start somewhere.

He's on the move...

From the minute Fuss showed even the slightest promise of crawling on his own, I anxiously awaited the minute that he would actually crawl. I was so afraid that he would crawl for the first time while I was working and that I would miss it. The day after Christmas we were sitting around upstairs, and Fuss crawled for the first time! I saw him! I was so excited that my little guy was self-mobile. D and I would laugh at how fast he could go on all fours. He was like a little speed-demon crawling through the house. It was only a couple of days, maybe a week, before he was pulling himself up to everything. Within a few more days, he was walking around the furniture he was pulling himself up to, and my anticipation of missing his first steps while I was at work began. I should have known I didn't have to worry. He is my child, which means he is a little on the wussy side. He could have let go and taken off, but he was too afraid to do it. Finally, he did take his first steps a couple of months later, and again I saw it! It was just a couple of weeks before his first birthday. 

Now at 16 months, my child has become a climber. Today I was in my office, typing at the computer. Fuss had been behind my chair playing. Suddenly I heard a cry that sounded like he would have been calling for help if he knew that word coming from the kitchen. I have a desk that is next to a wall that is about 5 feet tall. The older boys Nintendo DS's were on top of that shorter wall. Fuss had climbed on the chair that is up to the desk, climbed on the desk, and was reaching for the DS. He couldn't quite reach the DS, but he couldn't get down either. I immediately put him on the floor and told him, "We don't climb on the desk!" We both went into the office. A few minutes later I heard Fuss giggle from the kitchen. I went in to find him sitting on the counter. He had climbed up the barstool and onto the counter top. I picked him up and put him on the ground and told him, "We don't climb on the counters!" We both went into the office. A few minutes later I heard Fuss talking to himself from the kitchen. I went in to find him sitting on the table. He had climbed up the chair and onto the table. I picked him up and put him on the ground and told him, "We don't climb! We stay on the floor!" I gave up on finishing up my work in the office.

I went into the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day. Fuss followed me. As I was putting on my makeup, Fuss climbed into the basket with my toiletry magazines in it, onto the toilet seat lid, onto the toilet tank, and onto the bathroom counter. I picked him up and put him on the ground and told him, "Why do you keep climbing on everything? We don't climb on counters!" He held his hands out to his sides with his palms up, shrugged his shoulders, and said, "Mmmm" in a high pitched voice, which is Fuss' version of "I don't know," which I have found to be a typical answer from any child for any situation. 

I don't do windows...

While cleaning my house on Saturday for my family to come over to celebrate my mom's birthday, I decided to dust the window sills in my kitchen. It was at that point that I stopped to think..."When was the last time I washed the windows in my house?" I thought and thought about it for a bit, then I realized...I have only washed the windows in my house 1 time (we have been in our house for 2 years and 4 months)! And that was only the insides. I have only washed the outside of my living room windows, because I am afraid of heights and the living room windows are the only ones that I can reach without a ladder. However, I have no excuse for the inside windows, except the one above front door because our front door is 8 feet tall. 

The thing is, I never open my blinds. In the summer, it makes the house too hot and the air conditioner has a harder time keeping my house at a nice cool temperature. This is the first winter that I won't be leaving before the sun comes up and getting home after it goes down. There has never really been anyone here during the winter to open the blinds to see what the sun could do for us then. So, since I never look out my windows, I don't have to clean them. I have also decided that I really need a maid who does windows... Besides, if I don't clean my windows, who is going to notice? The peeping Tom that I don't want looking in them anyway? 

I'm not the first...

Here is the thing about being the second wife of your first husband, you will make sacrifices that you never thought about previously. I want to preface this with, I love D and I would not change him or our marriage for anything else or anyone else! When D and I got married, I was 29 years old. We were set up on a blind date, and the only thing I knew about him was that he had 3 kids from a previous marriage. He was so romantic when we were dating. He was so thoughtful and affectionate. He was everything that I had dreamed the man of my dreams would be--tall, dark, and handsome included. 

So, when we got married, I expected the romance to continue and fulfill my fantasy of the honeymoon phase of my life. Here is what no one tells you when you marry a divorced dude, he starts the next marriage pretty much where he left on the first one. There is no rewind on a guy. So, D started our marriage on year 8 and I started it on year zero. The honeymoon phase did not exist. Really, I don't know if it does in real life for anyone, but I hope that it does. All the things that you hope to experience with the man of your dreams, he already has experienced. The wedding night, your first home, your first pregnancy, your first child, your first anything...all ready done... 

During one of my specifically emotional times (remember, I am on hormones in an attempt to get pregnant so it is not my fault I cry a lot), I was complaining about how much I have missed because he is now on year 11 of our marriage and I am still wishing for the first year of bliss to happen. In an effort to keep me happy, my husband seems to have found his rewind button, and he is making an effort to be more attentive and romantic, like we were dating again, but without the dates. I love that my husband is making the effort. Even if we have already purchased our first home together, made it through the first pregnancy, and are surviving our first child together, we could have been married yesterday! Lucky, lucky me!

She's 29...

Today is my mom's birthday. According to her Facebook page, she turned 29 today. Yes, you read that right, my mom is on Facebook, and she listed the year she was born as 1979 on her Facebook page "so that no one would know how old she really is." Because evidently my mom has a lot of Facebook friends that don't know her personally? Who is she trying to fool, her family or her friends from high school or her kids friends that want to be her friend too. I am pretty sure that all of those people know that she was not born in 1979, especially her dad (yes, my grandpa has a Facebook page too)! That is one of the reasons why I love my mom, because she is one of those people who can do her own thing and not worry about what others think. We have often said that my mom is slightly insane (really, who isn't) but trying to convince everyone that she was born after she had graduated from high school, got married, and had 3 of her children is kind of pushing it, especially since the fourth child was born 5 months after she was.

My mom is a trooper. As someone who has a medical history the size of China, she really is an inspiration of a positive outlook. Many times doctors couldn't believe she was conscious, let alone attemptting to vacuum her house (she always likes to vacuum when she is feeling her worst). She recently (a few months ago) had surgery on her foot, and since she is crutches deficient (meaning horrible at using them, which is funny for us to watch) she has been confined to hopping (equally as funny to watch) or using a wheelchair. And since her house is not really wheelchair accessible, especially during the remodel of her kitchen, she has mostly been confined to her bedroom, and her bed. A great example of my mom's positive outlook can be shown in her response to one of my favorite emails, a "getting to know you one." The question was: How do you relax? My mom's answer was: "It is hard to relax from resting. I usually just fluff my pillows, prop myself up, and pour a fresh Pepsi."

My mom is a wonderful woman who taught us how to laugh through basically everything, good and bad. If you can't find the joy in life, what is the purpose. Therefore, I believe she deserves to be 29 for as long as she wants! We love you, Mom! Happy Birthday!!

Just a size...

D and I have been invited to a masquerade party in a few weeks. As such, we recently purchased costumes online. On the website that I ordered the costumes from there is a warning, "Costume sizes run small, please check the measurements to ensure accuracy in fit." What I would like to know is how does a size "run small?" Why isn't a 10 a 10? Why is a 10 an 8 in some stores and a 12 in another? WHY? It is very difficult to have to try on every single item that you would like to purchase just because you can't determine whether you will even fit in the item based on the size. When my sisters and I discuss pant sizes we always differentiate where that size is from, such as, "These new jeans are a size 12 from the Gap, which means a Wal-Mart 10!" When I went to get my wedding dress the sales lady asked me what pants size I wore and then got me dresses a size bigger because wedding dresses "run small." If items "run small" and the designers know that they "run small" why don't they put a tag in the item with a smaller number on it? I mean really, why simplify things for people, or make people feel good about the size they are wearing. Life is much better when people think they are larger than they really are. It really makes people want to shop more. 

Yesterday, our costumes arrived on our front porch step, which is another whole story as to why the UPS man rings the doorbell and then bangs on the door like the boogie man is chasing him only to leave the package on my porch without even waiting the 10 seconds for me to answer the door. Anyway, our costumes arrived. The costume that I ordered for myself says that it should fit a woman from size 16 to 24. Well, since I am closer to the bottom of that, I figured there would be no issues. Let's just say that if a woman that normally wears a size 24 tries to fit into my dress, it will no longer be a dress because I, at an 18, barely fit into it! BARELY! It is just a size? Yeah right, how good do I feel now?

I told D that size shouldn't matter, it is just numbers. When I met D and we got married, I wore between a size 8 and 10 depending on where I purchased my clothing of course. Now after having a baby and gaining a lot of weight (sadly), I wear an 8 plus a 10, but they are the same numbers and sizes are just numbers. So, it shouldn't really matter right. One size fits most...yeah right!

Our joy in the journey...

Yesterday while listening to the advice of our beloved prophet, Thomas S. Monson, during General Conference, I had to take a moment to determine if our family really takes "joy in the journey." I don't want to have the hopes of tomorrow be shadowed by the emptiness of yesterday. Really, I don't. I had made our family watch conference in mine and D's bedroom because it is more comfortable to me than our family room couches. So, as I sat in my recliner, completely comfortable, I looked over to my bed where D, Olie, Skater, and Moo were lying side by side. Fuss was sleeping in his room, which really made things more joyful overall for everyone at that moment. I thought about how our boys who like to eat nonstop had eaten dinner with their mom on Thursday night and then stopped for a hamburger with their dad on the way to our house. That is joyful for them, not so much for me since I had dinner waiting at home. Friday night the older boys had slept over at D's parents' house, which was joyful for all of us. Saturday we had gone to lunch with my family to celebrate my graduation from the medical transcription program. That was joyful as well. As "joyful" as our journey has been, we could put a lot more effort into it.

We did let the kids basically eat whatever they wanted for dinner on Saturday. D took the kids to the store and let them choose what to eat while watched a movie together. My boys came back with dinner, which I think for kids is very joyful. We had Laffy Taffy, Gummy Worms, Smarties, Lemonheads, and Carrots with light ranch dip (that one was my choice). We are totally winning the "fun parents of the year" award. As conference ended, and Fuss woke up, I realized that the peacefulness that had just filled my home would soon be over. Fights would begin again. There would surely be complaining of some sort. I was now standing in the doorway of my bedroom. D was in the recliner with Fuss on his lap. Olie was sitting on the floor leaning up against the recliner. Skater was on my bed. Moo had disappeared. So, I picked up a pillow and started smacking the boys. As the boys smacked me back with other pillows from my bed, the giggling began. D and Fuss just sat there and watched as Moo appeared and joined forces with his brothers. Sadly, my joy lasted longer than my energy and I threw myself on the bed, and continued to get pummeled by the pillows. Then D and I traded off. I took Fuss, who was laughing hysterically, and D took the pillow from me. I knew that had created joy when even though D had Skater pinned on the bed under one arm and Olie under the other, all 3 of the boys continued to attempt beating him with the pillows.

And I made an executive decision (as an executive in our home) that we definitely need to have more pillow fights in our house!

It happened to me...

Well, it has happened. I have read it on other blogs, but never have had it happen to me before. I have been tagged. I am a player so I will play along...

7 Things I LOVE:

1. I love sweats. I love the comfy warmth of thick cotton on my legs. I love that they are not too tight. I love that they have an elastic in the waist, but it is supposed to be there so no one thinks that I am just too large for non-elastic sweats or too old like if I wore Jeans with elastic waists. I love that I can wear them all day and then to bed if I want to. I love that I can wear them when I take Fuss on walks and no one thinks I am weird. They just think I am attempting to exercise. Oh, the deceit of sweats!

2. I love TIVO. I love that I can record what I want, when I want to, and not have to watch it on somebody else's schedule. I love the total and complete control of only watching the commercials if I want to. I can even pick and choose which commercials I watch. 

3. I love having milk delivered to my front porch. I love milk alone, but having it delivered in any quantity I want each and every week just makes my life so much simpler.

4. I love ceiling fans. I love that if I am a little too hot, I can flip a switch and a nice breeze fills the room. I love the purr of the ceiling fan that lulls me to sleep every night. I love that the ceiling fans are high enough that although I know there is dust on the blades, I can't see it. Therefore, I don't have to do anything about it. 

5. I love pictures. I love to take pictures. I love to look at pictures. I just don't like to be in pictures, which is the main reason that I love to take them!

6. I love my recliner. I love that it was purchased with the money that I received after my grandma passed away. I love it because it was purchased because Fuss was on the way. I love it because we call it the "Grandma Rocker" and it reminds me of the way she used to sit in her rocker and visit or read with us when we went to her house. I love it because it makes me think of my grandma every time I rock my own baby and read to him.

7. I love breakfast. Breakfast really is the most important meal of the day. I love breakfast foods, sausage, bacon, eggs, french toast...mmmm! I love having breakfast for dinner. I love that as much as I love breakfast, I usually just eat cold cereal for breakfast. That makes "real breakfast foods" a treat when we have them!

7 things I HATE:

1. I hate cherry flavored ice cream, or ice cream with cherries in it. I love ice cream, and hate cherries so the cherries just ruin a beautiful thing, and I hate it when beauty is ruined!

2. I hate weeds. I hate that they make it known to everyone that drives past my house that I don't do yard work. I hate that they are much more prominent than the plants that I don't really like either.

3. I hate dust. I don't mind doing the dusting, I just wish it would stay that way a little longer. It seems that as soon as I am done dusting, the dust is creeping back onto the surfaces that I just dusted. 

4. I hate laundry. I hate that it is such a time consuming process and requires so much remembering. It would be much easier if the washer and dryer were just one machine that would wash and then automatically dry. I hate that I have to remember when I put a load in the washer and how long it has been there to know if it is still able to be dried, or if I need to waste more time and money re-washing the load I forgot about. I hate that when the clothes are dried, if I don't take them out and immediately hang them up, I will be stuck ironing (or wearing wrinkled clothes, which is more likely). I hate that I have to fight the hangers on the bar in the closet trying to gather enough to hang up the load that I just threw on my bed.

5. I hate scary movies. I would rather watch the news where I get just as frightened.

6. I hate living far away from my family. I realize that it is only an hour away, but with the price of gas I might as well move back to Florida since I saw them about the same from there. Except I hated living in Florida. 

7. I hate my storage room. I hate that in all actuality we have no idea what is down there. I hate that there is just a plethora of boxes filled with items from mine and D's lives before we even knew each other, but that neither of us has the desire to go through to see if we can get rid of it. I hate that it is looming over me and that I know that one day I will break down and go through it....maybe it will just loom until I die!

Now for the rules: You can't use your husband or kids as things you love (or hate depending on your mood) that would be too easy. 

Tags: You have to make your own list...maw ha ha ha (in case you watch Hannah Montana like we do!)  Tagged: Angie, Theresa, Stephanie, Melissa, Erica, Sheryl, Missy. And I do LOVE my friends...all of them!

I said, "I love you..."

I think that it is very important to tell your children that you love them frequently. The problem that I have realized recently is that although I do tell my children that I love them frequently, it is usually followed by a request. Such as, "I love you too much to allow you to act this way!" "I love you and that is why I won't let you do something stupid." or "I love you, now be quiet!" I am not sure that this is the best way to express my love for my children to them, but when it is a non-stop day of noise...that is the best way to describe it...it is hard to stop and sincerely tell the noise makers how you really feel about them without trying to establish some sort of sanity first. It stems from adult interaction that this is the way I deal with my kids. Whenever someone in my family says something that they know is going to get under someone else's skin, they follow it by a somewhat sarcastic, "love you." D does it too. He teases me, then he tells me that he loves me and grins in a hope that I will not be mad at him. I usually follow it up with, "No, you don't." It is hard for me to point a finger when I do the same thing to him too.

When kids tell you they love you, it is because they do. Kids have yet to learn the manipulation the words "I love you" can hold. Recently, I had a conversation with my nephew Buddy, who is 3, and he loves me. I know he does because he told me in a way that made me know that he did. It was the day I found out that I had passed my final, Buddy called to congratulate me. Our conversation went like this:

Buddy: Dood (good) dob (job), Annie. Dood dob on you test.

Me: Thanks, Buddy! I love you!

Buddy: I love you too. I don't hate you.

That is true love!

To accomplish something...

Throughout life we are put through a series of disappointments and failures, but there is no reason to be upset about it. Everyone goes through the downs in life, and sometimes the ups. I recently completed the medical transcriptioning course that I have been taking. This coarse is designed to be done at your own pace but within a year. It is a good thing that you can purchase time extensions when needed, because I needed 4 of them. The reason I needed 4 of them is because I was working outside of our home when I started the coarse, and I was pregnant. So, my ambition towards this extra work was not really all that high. I thought that I would have more energy to work on it after Fuss was born. I was wrong. I had less energy and less ambition. It wasn't until I became unemployed that I realized where my ambition had been hiding. I realized that this coarse was the ticket to me being able to stay home with my Fuss all the time. I started working on it, and I finished in 5 1/2 months! Oh, why I could have done with that before Fuss was born...I wouldn't have missed out on the first 10 months of his life! I realized just how much I was missing when his nanny had to tell me what his favorite kind of juice was. I should have known that!

Anyway, I have now passsed and I am graduating from the program with honors. You are allowed to take the final up to 3 times, but I only had to take it once! I called my mom and told her how excited I was to have finally accomplished something. She asked me what in the world I was talking about. So, I explained: I finished high school and graduated with high honors, then I finished a 2 year college, got my Associates degree, went to 1 more year of college and dropped out. I went to cosmetology school, finished, graduated, and never got my license. I have a habit of not finishing what I started. Until now!

It is amazing how one little accomplishment can change your whole perspective on things. I have put my family first. I will be working from home while my son is sleeping, not missing a moment of his awake life. I did it, and I feel great about it. Suddenly, I feel like I can accomplish anything! I may even be able to lose a couple of pounds now! We'll see!

No cavities...

So, yesterday I had my biannual visit to the dentist. Although I have a wonderful dentist, the best I have ever had in my life actually, I still get anxiety before I go for this visit. The morning of a dental visit I always use my Sonicare toothbrush to make sure that my teeth are as clean and shiny as possible. You would also think that I would floss, but I don't. I really like my dentist's office because everyone is so nice. You walk in and they greet you by name and with a smile. How they remember everyone's name, I don't know, but for the most part they do. There is no receptionist desk. There is no counter with a bell. There is just friendly people all dressed alike, smiling and telling me how nice it is to see me. If I was greeted like this at more places, I might leave the house a little more often.

Anyway, it is inevitable that every time I sit in the dentist's chair, someone is going to ask me how the flossing is going. I would like to tell them it is going just wonderfully, but I can't lie. It is like when the eye doctor asks me if I ever sleep in my contacts. I told her that I could say I didn't, but that she and I would both know I was lying. That story holds true for flossing as well. So, yesterday when the wonderfully nice hygenist, who can carry on a conversation with anyone who can't talk because they have dental tools and the hygenist's hands in their mouth better than you would imagine, asked me "how the flossing is going," I answered honestly, "Well, you should know since you were the last one to floss my teeth, which was about 6 months ago." I can't lie to her, which I kind of wish I could. So, I again promised to try to focus on flossing more. She even gave me 6 spools of floss to encourage me, but I can't promise that I will get it done. I just don't enjoy forcing a string in between my teeth and moving it back and forth to remove the gunk that I didn't know about, and really didn't want to know about. I prefer to think that brushing alone does a good enough job. I haven't had a cavity for years, and I hope I am not jinxing myself by saying that. (I am knocking on wood as I type this).

I realize that dental health is important, and a great smile is important too, but I promise no one is looking in between my teeth when I smile. Most of the time they are probably thinking, "Wow, you have a huge mouth!" Because I do. My family is known for their large heads. Fuss' pediatrician comments on Fuss' noggin every visit...because he is in a higher percentile for head size by about 20 points over height and weight. My nephew's head was so large that we used to laugh that the reason he fell over so much when trying to walk was because he was so top heavy. My dad can't wear normal hats, and I fall into the large noggin catagory too. My mouth is so wide that my large-headed nephew once tried to see if his head could fit inside of it. It didn't, but let's just say my smile is in proportion to my head size. I am probably the only one that dental people have to tell, "don't open quite so wide." I can fit my fist in my mouth, which means that the dental hygenist can easily fit both her hands in my mouth for easy accessibility for cleaning.

As I type this, I realize that I real have no excuse for not flossing daily, but most likely the hygenist will be the next person to floss my teeth...maybe.

Sing it, baby...

My sister once said that she wished that life was a musical. She thought it would be so fun if the whole world could spontaneously break out in a song and dance that everybody knew. I agree, the world would be a much happier place if the world would sing together more. I am not a singer so much. D and I had been married only a week when the truth of his feelings toward my singing came out. We were sitting in church, singing a hymn, and D turned to me and said, "You don't sing very good do you?" No, evidently I don't. I have actually been told that I don't sing well throughout my entire life, even when I was forced to publicly sing while working at a karaoke restaurant. The words "tone deaf" have been used more than once.

Even so, I sing at home all the time. I sing whenever I have the radio on. I dance too, but that inability is a whole different story. I sing to the kids while making them meals or treats. Sometimes, I sing just to annoy them. I can't help it. I think it is funny! Usually the songs I sing are songs that are either completely made up by me, or they are real songs that I have changed the words to. I like to include the kids names in them when possible. That is why I make them up. Sometimes the songs that I make up are completely based on the feelings that I am having at the time or the activity that we are performing.  For example, I sing the following made up songs to Fuss almost daily.

Bathtime Song:

We wash your face, and wash your belly.

Wash your arms and legs.

We wash your toes and wash your fingers.

And wash your little dinger.

We wash your back and wash your bum.

We'll wash your hair, and then we're done.

Bedtime song when a fight is given:

Rock-a-bye, close your eyes.

Go to sleep 'til morning.

Rock-a-bye, don't you cry,

Because this is your last warning.

While my children think I am weird, I think I am fun! Really it is my opinion that matters...at least that is what I have decided.

Getting to know me...

In the last week alone, I have had probably 5 or 6 emails asking me questions to "get to know me." While I find them fun to read from my friends, I don't really know how many people really want to get to know me, especially since they are usually sent by people who already do. However, I feel like there is this pressure that you feel if you don't forward emails to other people, or respond to the one that sent it to you, like they aren't important or something. I really don't like the ones that say, "if you don't forward this..." these are the consequences. Really, because when I broke my foot we didn't even have the internet, so I don't think my bad luck comes from the lack of forwarding emails. I don't really think that not forwarding emails is effecting my life that deeply overall. I also dislike the "getting to know you emails that ask, "Who do you think will reply to this email?" There are enough unavoidable pressures in life that this question is really just unfair. Sometimes when I am reading someone else's answers, I chant the phrase, "please don't be me, please don't be me!" over and over and over again, and then I scroll down to see the answer. Usually, it is me. I think it is because I have no other life but to send and respond to emails, so I do it. When I send these emails, I put the least likely person to responds name, followed by something like, "She never replies." Ok, I have only really done that once, but it totally worked and I got a response from that person (Lois).

Well, I got another one today, and I decided that I am just going to give the whole world (or at least the few of you that read this) my answers, and don't worry I cut down this 55 question email--no one needs to know that much about me!

1. What time did you get up this morning? 4:34 when I had to use the bathroom, 6:03 to 6:32 when Fuss thought it was time to get up until I convinced him to go back to sleep, and 6:54 when Fuss woke up and wouldn't go back to sleep.

2. Diamonds or pearls? Both...why can't I have both? Don't I deserve nice things for all occasions? While diamonds are always gorgeous, pearls have their place. I would like both of them to be real also.

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? "Iron Man" I have 4 boys, and when my husband took me on a date, we saw "Iron Man." (I did like it though)

4. What food do you dislike? Foods that have no calories, like onions and asparagus.

5. What kind of car do you drive? I have a 2001 Chevy Malibu, sauteed mushroom color, that has a dented hood from when I ran into the back of another car, a big scrape down the side from when I ran into the side of my garage while pregnant and backing out, no hubcaps since my husband said I either had to buy new ones or take off the 2 1/2 that were on it, and that has 185,000 miles on the odometer! I also drive a white Eddie Bauer Edition Ford Expedition XL, but only once a year since we can't afford the gas to take it further than the grocery store...ok, really we drive it when the older boys are here, but it has less than 8,000 miles on it and it is 1 1/2 years old. Obviously, I drive the mushroom mobile more.

6. What characteristic do you despise? Dishonesty.  I would rather someone be honest to a fault rather than dishonest...don't lie to me!

7. Favorite item of clothing? Anything that is large enough to not accentuate the midsection rolls.

8. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? Disneyland or Washington DC. I wouldn't be expected to wear a swimsuit, and both require a lot of walking...exercise and fun!

9. Favorite brand of clothing? Anything with a plus size that doesn't make me look like I am wearing my grandmother's kitchen curtains. I would also like brands that have sizes that run big (as if that ever happened).

10. What was your most recent memorable birthday? When I was 10, I didn't get a cake...my dad was working out of town and my mom said that we would have one when he got back, but we didn't. When I was 21, my mom made me 2 birthday cakes to make up for it, but you can't make up 11 years with a cake...more ice cream would have been better!

11. Are you a morning or night person? Neither! I am a middle-of-the-day person. My good hours are 11:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.

12. What is your shoe size? 9 1/2 wide and without any arch support for my flat feet.

13. Pets? Unfortunately...

14. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with us? Yesterday, we had no junk mail and no bills in the mail! Only the insurance cards for the truck! That is new and exciting for us!

15. What did you want to be when you were little? Erma Bombeck (the writer)

16. How are you today? Showered with makeup...totally presentable for public!

17. What is your favorite flower? Fake ones...I kill them if they are real, and I don't even mean too. If you don't believe me, you should see my front yard.

18. What was the last thing you ate? None of your business...dang it, I wish I would have read this question before I just scarfed a mini Take 5 bar.

19. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Yellow-green, because what do you use yell0w-green to color, dying grass?

20. Favorite soft drink? Pepsi, sweet Pepsi...don't be mad at me because I gave you up. I have not replaced you with any other soft drink, only water.

21. Favorite Restaurant? Italian and Mexican ones because I love cheesy foods...again, why can't I lose weight?

22. Real hair color? When I was in cosmetology school, one of our instructors held up a hair color swatch and declared, "This is the ugliest color. No one will ever want this color.  The only purpose for this color is to create other colors." That color was an exact match of my real color...6A (very ashy brown).

23. Chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate poured over vanilla ice cream!

24. What is under your bed? I don't want to know!

25. Salty or sweet? Salty followed by sweet....

26. How many years at your current job? Motherhood...almost 1.5. Wife....just over 3. Collecting unemployment...about 5 months.

27. How many towns have you lived in? A better question for me is, How many times did you move OUT of your parent's house? 9 

28. How many people will you send this to? I hope a lot!

Girl hair...

I have girl hair. I know I do because a few years ago my niece told me that I did. We were sitting at the computer, me and Lou, playing a game that had colored blocks. When a purple block appeared on the screen, Lou, who was 3 years old at the time, declared that purple was her favorite color. Then an orange block appeared, and Lou told me that that was Oni's (her younger brother) favorite color. So when a green block appeared, I told her that green was my favorite color. Lou got a puzzled look on her face, then furrowed her brow and studied me for a little bit before she matter-of-factly stated, "That can't be your favorite color, because green is a boy color and you have girl hair." That was a big relief, but I still like green.

It has recently come to my attention that Lou is not the only child who uses hair to help her determine gender. During the great weight debacle of 2008, my sister and I have joined forces to help encourage and berate each other when necessary. During one of our conversations about how well she is doing and how well I am not, she mentioned that she had lost 8 pounds in 1 week since starting a new dance class. I was very excited for her, but I was not the only one. Her 5-year-old son also noticed her weightloss, and told her that she is "looking better, and when you lose all the fat on your tummy, you will look like my daddy. Except that you will still have long hair." Oh, what we all wouldn't give to look like our husbands with long hair. If I am going to look like D, I will have get some testosterone shots to improve my mustache and goatee...

Here is the thing, with my football player shoulders, and my thunderous thighs, I already look like a boy. I have a picture that D took of me riding behind Fuss on a carousel at the zoo. After seeing it, I was beyond extatic that I decided to get off of the zebra and stand to the side for the rest of the picture taking opportunities. I look like a middle-linebacker with girl hair. It almost made me want to grow my hair even longer, to feminise my box-shaped body. Then I saw our family picture from when I did have longer hair, and the flatness on the top of my head only accentuated the roundness of my second chin. Therefore, it has been decided that it is a good thing that I have short girl hair, and no facial hair...otherwise children all over the city might think Fuss has 2 daddys...