A Shameless Plug for My Amazingly Talented Friend

This girl is simply amazing!  I finally figured out how to post her button (it was easy-peasy, I was just being a dork about it), so you HAVE to check out her work (Fauset Photography).  Not only do I love her as a person, but I love being uplifted by her talent.  It is truly inspiring.  I am always edified whenever she posts her latest work.  It is truly a highlight of my day.

In February, she did a little photo shoot of the three of us (I'm 24 weeks in these pictures).  I seriously could have posted all of the pictures - I love them all.  But, to stay somewhat humble, I think these are my favorites.  I always feel a little funny being the only person in a photo (it isn't like I have photos of just myself plastered around my house - I much prefer to look at my offspring), and I have never considered myself photogenic or even somewhat beautiful - I consider myself as "average."  But, whenever Jen takes my picture, I seriously feel like a Supermodel (just a very short one).  She knows just how to pose people and get the most out of the light!  Have I mentioned that she is amazing!  She makes me feel stunning - large belly and all!

Another thing that struck me is how much bigger I am in just six short weeks!  Even Greg looked at the pictures and said, "Wow!  You've changed a bit."  I am bigger than I've ever been at delivery with any of my other children, and I can tell a big difference in just the past couple of weeks in the limited amount of space my little boys are experiencing.  I still feel them moving all the time, but no more of those huge/stretching/rolling around movements.  I think they are pretty squished.  

Overall, I am having a good period where I feel like if I have the right attitude, I can totally do this and enjoy it along the way.  (Don't worry.  We still have a couple of months.  I'm sure there is plenty of time for a couple more panic attacks.)  But right now...Sunday night...I feel good and excited and blessed and at peace.

I am learning pregnancy etiquette for the first time.  I've never gotten "huge" with my pregnancies, so people always referred to my stomach as a "cute, little belly."  This time is obviously different.  Last week, a woman said to me, "Every time I see you, you triple in size."  Now, I see this woman about every week (she is a mom at my son's school).  Even if that is true, how is it helpful/kind/polite to say out loud?!?  I am actually aware of this giant growth in my mid-section.  I don't need mere acquaintances pointing it out.   

I guess on a more important note, Greg did glance at this while I was writing and said, "You are posting your sexy pictures?!?"  How sweet is he!  He thinks my pregnant body is hot.  He is actually always coming up to me, rubbing my belly, and commenting on how much he loves it and how sad it will be when it's gone.  That is way more important than some insensitive woman and her thoughtless comments!  

Thanks again, Jen!  Now, all of you go directly to her website or blog.  You won't regret it!

This is how we got into this whole mess in the first place:

The Reality of Motherhood

The reality of motherhood is that my world revolves around what goes in and what comes out of my children.

Today's conversation with Macy:

• Macy is sitting on the toilet, yelling from the bathroom so I can hear her.
  
• I am attempting to eat my breakfast (an omelet that is already cold) while talking to my mom on the phone and filling my little bird's mouth (Paige) as she stands next to me begging for some of my breakfast (never-mind that she's already eaten her own).
  
• WARNING: You should stop reading now if you can't handle a detailed potty discussion.

Macy:  Mom!  Is Dad home?

Me:  No.

Macy:  Well you should call him and tell him that I pooped.

Me: Okay.  (Not intending at all to call him because I'm sure he couldn't stand the thrill of that announcement.  Way too much excitement for one man to handle.)

Macy: Mom, will you come wipe me?

Me: You can wipe yourself.  (I've said that sentence about 100 times.)

Macy: But I just caaaaan't!  I need you to do it.

Me: Macy, you are now five years old.  If you want to go to Kindergarten next year, you need to wipe yourself.  (Again, this is at least the 100th time I've said this.)

Macy: Well, will you at least come in here and see how much I pooped so I know how much I need to wipe?

Me: Macy, take some toilet paper, wipe your bum, then look at the toilet paper.  If there is still some poop on the toilet paper, you will need to wipe again.  Just keep wiping until there isn't any poop left on the toilet paper.  (My mom is laughing on the other end of the phone, and I can't believe that I actually just gave in-depth instructions on how to wipe a bum.)

Macy: Mom!  I wiped and there is still some poop.

Me: Then you will need to wipe again.

Macy:  (With a high-class whine) But I'll be wiping forever!

Me: 

Macy: (After a minute or two) Mom!  I wiped and there isn't any poop.  

Me:  Great!  Then, I guess you are done.  

Macy: (Walking out of the bathroom and shutting the door.) Do NOT go in there!  (This is what my adorable husband says when he defiles a bathroom.) 

Honestly!   I love these kids to pieces, but did I really have this discussion?!?  Please tell me that all of you mothers out there have equally strange moments where the true glamour of motherhood is just so glaringly apparent!  

Later on in the day, we were in the car and passed a park.  She said with a sigh, "It's a lovely day to be on a swing."  There is never a dull moment with that girl around!

An Unrelated Apology:

By the way, I'm sorry if I offended any of you that love Facebook in my last post.  I wasn't trying to criticize it.  I think it is a great way to get quick info out to everyone, and I know a lot of people that love it.  I'm just no good at it.  I've actually never written on it, never commented on anything, never looked for anyone, and I rarely answer any requests.  It seems dumb for me to be afraid of Facebook, but I am totally intimidated by it.  I still visit and read; I just don't participate.  I never intended to be judgmental of people who love it.  Sorry!

IKEA and Facebook

The first time I walked into IKEA, we were looking for a dresser for Austin's room.  We walked in, grabbed a cart, and started on the little walkway on the second floor.  At first, it was fascinating to see all the adorable, staged rooms, and I caught myself pondering what it would be like to live in a 340 square foot apartment in the middle of Manhattan.  Ten years ago, before my husband and bazillion children, I could picture myself being so IKEA chic.  However, as we walked deeper into the store, I felt like I was getting swallowed in the abyss.  I became so overwhelmed that I couldn't even think straight.  Even when we got to the "Dresser Section," there were so many options that I became incapable of answering simple yes and no questions.  I'm not much of a shopper anyway (I do it out of obligation - not enjoyment), so we left without purchasing anything and I felt like I was in a haze.

Sometimes I get like this with certain restaurant menus.  If there are too many selections, it's as if my mind forgot how to read.  I can't seem to zero in on one section and calmly maneuver my way through the options.

This is how Facebook is for me.  I set up an account a while ago because people wanted me to be their friend.  How flattering!  My friends (that I speak to and interact in real life) also want to be my friends (so we can speak and interact in cyberspace as well).  It was so much pressure to be popular.  So, I reluctantly set up an account, and for some reason my birthday is stuck at January 1, 1936 - which isn't entirely accurate - and my Profile Picture is still a light blue silhouette of a young man.  After the flattery wore off (and I realized that I only have about 20 cyberfriends and some people have hundreds - a reality check on my lack of popularity), those overwhelming feelings set in again.  

Now when I open my Facebook page, I feel like I'm 30 minutes into my initial IKEA experience.  All of a sudden, there are friend requests and several people commenting on different aspects of their day with several other people commenting on their comments.  I feel as if I'm at a very crowded party and I can't seem to join just one conversation because there are about 12 of them going on around me.  There are obligatory quiz's to take, Top 5 Movies, Top 5 Restaurants, Top 5 Science Museums.  Then, the endless tags.  People tagging pictures, tagging comments, tagging ex-boyfriends.  It's much too much for me.  Information overload.

And you can just forget about twittering.  We don't even have texting on our cell phones.  We still get charged 20 cents for every text.  We are so two years ago!

Moral of the Story: I am a terrible Facebook Friend, but if you want to get together for lunch and some real conversation and laughter - I'm your girl.  Let's just not meet at IKEA.  

The Obsession Begins Early Folks!

So, every time I go in for an ultrasound, the technician checks for what the doctor has requested first (I'll spare you endless photos of bladders and amniotic fluid and membranes, etc.), and then she takes a few minutes to print off a few pictures just for us.  They always get the face shot, and they go on and on about how adorable it is.  One time, there was a technician in the room that was training and I seriously thought she was going to start crying.  She was cooing and screeching about how cute they are and she could hardly stand still.  She kept moving her hand to her mouth and shaking her head.  Now, I'm the mother, so naturally I should think that they are the most adorable fetus's (or feti) on the planet, right?!?  Let's just be brutally honest here, don't the ultrasound face shots just look like freaky little skeleton heads?

Personally, I prefer the profile shots.  I just love the little outline of their noses and lips and long forehead.  Here is a perfect little profile of Baby A:

Baby B was a bit more allusive last time we went in.  Based on movement and the contour of my belly, I think that Baby B is a little bit "behind" Baby A.  Baby A seems to be out in the forefront and a little more accessible.  The technician was trying really hard, but just couldn't get Baby B to move his head so we could get a profile.  After a couple of minutes, she finally got it.  She was thrilled.  After a few tries, I think she saw it as a personal challenge.  So, she froze the frame and snapped the picture.  Then, she sort of gasped.  Now, it is not uncommon to see an arm or a leg of the other twin floating behind the baby, but do you see what that little stinker Baby A did just in time?  That's right!  With no other body part apparent in the picture, Baby A just couldn't let his brother's profile outshine him.  He just had to stick his "you-know-what" in the frame.  I just started laughing.  I guess pride for their anatomy begins in the womb.  No wonder that we, as mothers, end up losing the battle once they are born.   Honestly, how many times already have I uttered the phrase, "Take your hands out of your pants."  

Feeling sorry for Baby B, the technician snapped a second, "G-rated" profile.  It will be so interesting to see if their personalities outside the womb match their personalities inside the womb.  Baby A is definitely the mover and the shaker, and apparently quite the jokester.  Baby B seems a bit more on the mellow side, and he always has both of his arms up around his head.  Hmmm....I can't wait to find out.  

Fetishes

I think I've mentioned it before, but Macy is my child with several fetishes.  We were just thinking about some of them the other day, so I thought I would document them all in one place.

• "Number" Fetish:  When Macy was a toddler, she needed a "Number" in order to go to bed.  You know those ABC/123 magnets that go on the refrigerator.  Well, she would get in bed and cry, "I need my number."  Then, Greg and I would go on a mad rampage to search the house for the perfect one.  It had to be something with a circle in it (8, 3, P, R, etc.) because she would suck her thumb and slide the number onto her pinkie finger of the thumb-sucking hand.  Then, her eyes would roll back into her head and she would doze off to sleep.  We eventually lost all of the numbers, so that fetish gradually died off.
• "Spoon" Fetish: We have these plastic toddler spoons that I just LOVE, but I haven't been able to find anymore.  They have a little bit bigger circle on them so the kids can actually fit some food on them, but they still cling to the food so they don't make such a huge mess.  Apparently, Macy loves them too, but for a different reason.  She used to suck her thumb with her left hand and hold the spoon under her chin with her right hand (with the circular part of the spoon cradling her chin).  We have lost all but one of these spoons.
• "Ear" Fetish:  This is her latest and greatest.  She now sucks her thumb with her left hand and puts her finder behind the earlobe of someone she's cuddling with.  I frequently wake up in the middle of the night with her finger behind my ear to discover that she's snuck into bed.  I can see that the root of her fetishes has to do with thumb sucking, but I don't know how to break that habit.

A couple of recent conversations with Macy:

On Death:

Macy: Mom, is it comfy underground?

Me: What?

Macy: Is it comfy underground?

Me: (I thought I knew what she was talking about at this point, but I wasn't 100% positive.)  Do you mean, is it comfortable to lie on the ground?

Macy: No, the people that die, are they comfy under the ground?

Me: (She was talking about what I thought - yet another discussion on death.)  At this point, I explained to her that when people die, we don't just put their bodies in the ground and cover them up with dirt.  Instead, we put the bodies in a pretty box that has a lot of beautiful blankets and pillows.  We dress their bodies in nice clothes and then close the box so that dirt doesn't get on top of them.

Macy: So...They just lay there and wait for Jesus to recognize them?

Me: I explained, yet again, how our spirits and our bodies work.  When we are born, out spirits and our bodies come together.  When we die, our spirits leave our bodies and go to live in Heaven and our bodies stay on the earth.  When Jesus resurrects us, our spirits and our bodies will come together again.

Macy: When do our spirits know that it is time to leave?

Me: (Stumped)

On Sneezing: 

Macy has been sick (well, everybody has been sick), and she sneezed at dinner the other night.  

Macy: Do I have to have to have this plate forever because I "Bless You'd" on it?

Greg and I: (laughing) No, we'll put it in the dishwasher and it will clean off all the germs.  

Macy: Okay, because some little boogers flew out of my mouth when I sneezed.

On Blinking:

Macy: Mom, what if we never blinked?

Me: Then our eyes would dry up and we couldn't see.

Macy: What?!?

Me: We have water in our eyes and every time we blink, it moistens our eyes and helps us see better.  It just happens really, really fast so we don't notice.

Macy: How come our eyelashes don't get wet?

Me: Do you know what eyelashes are for?  Well, there are little, tiny pieces of dirt and dust in the air that we can't see, and if they get inside our eyes, they can ruin them.  Our eyelashes help catch that dirt and dust to protect our eyes.  If anything does get inside, when we blink, the water cleans it out.  Aren't our bodies amazing!

Macy: (Looking out the window and pondering.)  You should tell Dad about that.

I love her...fetishes and all!  In fact, right now, she is sitting on my lap (what's left of it), wearing a wedding dress and Tasmanian Devil slippers while sucking her thumb and holding her finger behind my ear.  What's not to adore?!?

Apparently my last post was too emotional for comments (don't blame you - I did cry at the beginning of Disney's "Tarzan" today when the baby gorilla gets eaten by the leopard and the mother gorilla is so sad - those pregnancy hormones are out of control).  Or, like Lindsay, I've lost all my blogging friends to Facebook (which I neither understand nor have time/patience to figure out).  So, if you are still with me, what are some of your fetishes (or your children's)?

What is Normal?

The following was written on Friday night: 

I am 32 and having my fourth and fifth child.  I was 24 when I had my first.  In Utah, people wonder what took me so long.  Outside of Utah, I'm an anomaly...a phenomenon...and obviously mis-informed on how to actually use birth control.  I blame the latter on my parents who never had "the talk" with me.  

On my trip to Texas, I had several people ask me about my bulging belly.  I actually had a very thoughtful airline worker move me to an aisle seat instead of a middle seat when she saw my tummy.  I was extremely grateful!  Everybody was very nice, but the questions started with the first plane ride and ended with our arrival in Salt Lake.  The conversation always went like this:

Them: "How far along are you?" 

Me (calculating in my head): "Six months."

Them: "Oh, is this your first?"

Me: "No...It is actually my fourth and fifth."

Them: Speechless.  

I realize that I look younger than my age.  This is a gift bestowed to me by my mother which was given to her by her mother.  I hated this gift when I was a teenager, but I quickly embraced it around "28."  Even my doctor said that I only looked "22" and way too young to have five children.  I nearly kissed him on the lips right in front of my own husband.  I don't think I look quite a decade younger, but I do know that I look younger (my shortness helps in that assumption - as if I haven't had my "growth spurt" yet).  

Quite frankly, I don't blame people for their reactions.  I'm speechless when I think about it.  I don't have a clue how I am going to do this.  When I came home from Texas, I really did miss my kids terribly.  I was rejuvenated and so patient and loving last week.  I just relished my time with them, and I was able to have sincere empathy for them when they struggled.  It was extremely short lived.  The last few nights, I haven't been sleeping very well, and I have been ultra-irritable and completely without compassion toward my kids during the day.  I wake up in the night with hot flashes and horrible dreams.  I have been exhausted, weepy, and overwhelmed.  Just the simple task of shopping for two car seats was more than I could bear.  

One of my problems is anticipation.  Whenever my kids act out, I fast forward a few months to the chaos of having two new babies in the home, and I panic.  My heart literally starts pounding harder, and I immediately become depressed, anxious, and scared to death.  Macy's brattiness and selfishness are only going to increase when I can't give her my undivided attention.  Paige's tantrums are only going to get worse.  She deliberately disobeys us now, just imagine the destruction she can cause when I am preoccupied with two babies!  So, the problems of today become the imaginary problems of tomorrow which makes today's problems completely overwhelming and impossible to deal with in a calm, rational manner.  

Another problem is the belief that I have in agency, and yet, I have a love/hate relationship with agency.  I get (what seems like) weekly phone calls from Austin's school about different problems.  Last week, he learned that girls fight with their fingernails, and has a large gash in his neck to prove it.  This week...well, it's still quite fresh and I haven't stopped fuming about it.  Plus, it is just too mortifying and embarrassing to even mention.  Even the secretary, when she called me, was completely fed up with his behavior.  She wanted to schedule (another) conference with us, Austin, the principal, and the janitor.  I told her that I could not do it...not today...and I would call on Monday.  I sent Austin to his room and told him that I was too angry with him, so it was best that I not even speak to him.  I would let him know when I was calm enough for him to be in my presence.  

Austin should learn from his mistakes - or downright idiotic behavior (Agency), but it isn't like we allow that type of behavior in our home.  Greg and I are teaching him manners and acceptable behavior, but he gets out of our sight and it is like he becomes a different person.  Every time the school calls, I feel like I am getting in trouble...like I am being reprimanded and judged for bringing up such a horrible kid.  These are the moments when I despise agency.  These are the moments when I want to force him to behave so I don't have to be embarrassed anymore.  When people ask me whose mom I am, I don't want to look at the ground, shuffle my feet, and mumble my son's name because I know there are already negative, preconceived notions about who he is.  I want to believe that he's a good kid, but on days like today, I wonder if he is just a little creep who sneaks and lies and does rotten things.  Today, I had him in Juvenile Detention by age 13.  

My third problem is hormones and the entire third trimester.  Enough said.

My question to you is: What is normal?  I had a good friend call me today needing to vent a little about her day/week.  She asked, "Do you think I need professional help?"  I may have been too quick in answering her question.  But, it really is serious.  I want to believe that my kids are "normal," but judging from other people's reactions to them, I wonder if something is wrong with them...or me.  What do you do when you are completely out of ideas?  What do you do when it seems like you've done everything possible as a parent, but nothing is working?  What do you do when you need help?  

President Hinckley said: "My brothers and sisters, we must work at our responsibility as parents as if everything in life counted on it, because in fact everything in life does count on it.  If we fail in our homes, we fail in our lives.  No man is truly successful who has failed in his home.  Pray for guidance, for help, for direction, and then follow the whisperings of the Spirit to guide you in the most serious of all responsibilities, for the consequences of your leadership in your home will be eternal and everlasting."

I feel like I'm failing in my home and in my life.  

Post-Edit: Sunday Night

I'm feeling much better after a few days to clear my head.  I wasn't even going to post this, but I wanted to follow up a bit.  I have such a problem: I completely shut down when Austin is struggling - and I mean completely.  I become irrational, I can't sleep, my head starts aching, and I cry...A LOT.  After the despair, the guilt sets in.  After all, there are thousands of people that would love to trade trials with me.  Are my problems really problems, and why can't I deal with them?  There are so many people struggling with things so much bigger and more important, and I can't even handle these small, day-to-day occurrences.  I feel so ungrateful and weak.  

I am grateful for my good husband who silently, patiently, and lovingly picked up the pieces when I fell apart for a solid 24 hours.  Then, he forgave me when I entered back into the "Land of the Rational."  He is a good man who loves me in spite of these obvious weaknesses.

We had a really good Sacrament Meeting today, and even though Paige acted like I was her personal jungle gym, I was able to hear most of the talks.  I started crying when President Kerr told a story about an experience that he had with faith.  I realized that I did not have enough faith: I lack faith in myself to really be able to teach and love all of these children that I've been given; I lack faith in my children and the fact that they come to me with full-grown, mature spirits that are most likely more valiant than myself; I lack faith in the wisdom of my Heavenly Father for sending me all of these children; I lack faith in Christ that He can help me through whatever trial may come my way.  It was incredibly humbling.

Then, came the closing song.  We sang Hymn #45 "Lead Me Into Life Eternal."  

Lead me into life eternal

By the gospel's holy call.

Let they promise rest upon me; 

Grant me ready strength for all.

Father, all my heart I give thee;

All my service shall be thine.

Guide me as I search in weakness;

Let they loving light be mine.

Hear me as I pray in meekness;

Let my strength be as they day.

Give me faith, the greater knowledge;

Father, bless me as I pray.

The tears started at the end of the first verse and continued to the end of the song.  It is my greatest desire to give the Lord my heart, and yet I am incredibly weak.  I do pray in meekness and in anger and in sorrow and in complete humility.  I try to be very honest in my prayers, and I need faith and knowledge to get me through this life.   Now, I need to get to work to acquire these two things so I can better serve my family.

After church, and after all of Greg's meetings, I called Jen and asked if I could come over and play with Chase.  All of my feelings of dread and panic that I've been feeling about having twins went away when I held that beautiful 4-day-old baby.  I remembered and felt what a strong, sweet, healing, and peaceful spirit babies bring with them when they enter this world, and I drank it up as if I were spiritually dehydrated.  We are going to be okay, and I really am anxious to have the spirits of these two little boys fill our home and our lives.   

Sorry for the length of this post (if you actually stuck it out and read every word).  This is one of the reasons why blogging is so therapeutic for me.  I'd still like to know what you find normal, and are there situations that occur that cause you to "shut down"?  If so, how do you deal with that and come out of it?

Smokin' Hot

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March Madness

No, I am not referring to college basketball.  I am referring to the fact that apparently I am quite fertile in June because we celebrate Macy and Paige's birthdays just five days apart in March.  We start with Miss Paige.  She turned two last Saturday, and she totally did not "get it."  We were actually quite busy on her birthday, so we celebrated on Sunday with family.  Austin was quite concerned about this and really, really wanted her to open presents on her actual birthday.  We ended up going to the Utah basketball game, and she had a great time.  She jumped every time the buzzer went off or the band started playing, but then she danced and clapped along.  And she was completely mesmerized by Swoop (the Ute's mascot).  She kept asking me: "Mommy, where the birdie go?"  

On Sunday, my mom and I made homemade pizza - one of Paige's favorites!  She is constantly asking: "Mommy, I eat pizza?"  It tasted so good!  Then, in the madness, we attempted to have Winnie The Pooh cake and ice cream.  All the kids "helped" her open her presents.  Overall, I think she went to bed with a fully tummy and quite confused, but happy.

   

One of her crowning achievements of "2" (yes, I've officially turned into a Mommy Blogger that has a naked picture of her child on the potty).  She's actually not 100% yet.  We haven't had a #2 accident in a couple of months, but she still has a hard time telling us when she needs to go #1.  Sometimes, she walks up to us with wet pants and says, "I need to go potty."  But, we are making significant progress!  Yea Paige!  

(My absolute favorite part of this picture is the little doggy sitting on the toilet.  She is in love with little, plastic figurines.  She carries them around constantly, and right before she sat down, she held the doggy over the potty so he could have his turn.  In this photo, the doggy is watching her.  Hilarious!)

Last Thursday, we switched gears for Macy's birthday.  She totally "gets it."  She has been counting down for weeks now!  The night before, she informed me that I would need to get up "really early in the morning."  When I asked why, she said, "so you can get my birthday ready."  I decorated her room with balloons while she slept, so she woke up in a forest of latex and her happy day began.  Paige and I went to her school to spotlight her, which she thoroughly enjoyed, and we spent the afternoon making Strawberry Shortcake cupcakes.  

It was my intention to have a low-key little get-together after dinner.  I was sorely mistaken.  Note to self (and any other mother who might think that a pinata might actually be a fun idea): Whenever a pinata is involved, it is NEVER low-key!  It seriously took five adults (all of which had extremely high blood pressure by the end of the festivities) to prevent a child from getting whacked in the head - or worse!  Macy had a meltdown in the middle of it, and I was entirely out of patience for her selfishness and self-pity.  I learned at that moment that it was also NOT a good idea to attempt a party (or get-together) of any sort right before bedtime.  In spite of all my lessons, the kids seemed to have a fun time.  We went through all of the kids twice, and they ended up with a bag full of candy and goodies in the end.  

I know that there are a ton of pictures, but the best part are the reactions of the people in the background (I especially like the ones of Cherise spreading her arms to protect the children).  So funny!

And then, Uncle Matt took over and finished the job (notice Maddie - pink shirt - in the background):

It was a little hectic, but here is an attempt to organize a picture before cake and ice cream.

After all the friends had gone home, I attempted to get my sugar-filled kids ready for bed.  Halfway through the job, I obviously got distracted.  After a few minutes, I got back on task.  With Dora jammies in hand, I found Paige playing with Macy's new toys.  This is what my girls look like all day long (usually, with shirts on):

Happy Birthday my sweet girlies!  I sure do love having you two around!  You provide endless entertainment and bring so much joy to our family!  Love you to pieces!

A Trip to Texas

Last week, I had the chance to go to Houston to visit my very good friend, Elizabeth (and her husband, Steve - although I didn't take a picture of him - SORRY).  Honestly, I'm not quite sure when I'm going to be able to leave on my own again (maybe when the twins are five or six???), so I decided to head down for my last little get away.  We had such a great time!  Liz said that she didn't want me to lift a finger the entire time, and I didn't - truly!  She completely spoiled me.  I slept in, ate her yummy cooking, let her husband do the dishes, went out to eat some "real" Mexican food, watched good movies, and spent hours talking and laughing.  It was better than going to a spa for a week.  I feel completely rejuvenated, and have been unbelievably patient with my kids since I got home.  Thank you so much Liz!  I miss you and can't wait to see you again.

She got a new haircut while I was there, and I took a few pictures.  She was very self conscious, but really wanted a new picture for Facebook.  She may hate me for posting these, but I'm taking a chance.  I think they turned out beautifully!  Maybe she'll even call me and chastise me!  That would be so fun because then I would get to talk to her again.  Come on - Doesn't she look great!

It was kind of strange to be away from my family.  When I go away with Greg, it doesn't seem like I'm leaving everything behind, but this was quite different.  I did miss my kids terribly, and my heart nearly burst out of my chest when Paige called me with lots of love and singing her ABCD's (as she calls them) and telling me all about Austin and Macy.  I couldn't go to bed at night without calling Greg and chatting for at least a half hour.  I don't even know what we talked about - I just couldn't sleep without hearing him.  But, I did have Liz's two absolutely adorable kids to keep me company.  Brooke became my good friend.  She sat on my lap and ate ice out of my cup, shared my breakfast cereal, and cuddled up while we watched Elmo.  Except for the fact that her mouth isn't jabbering every waking minute, it was exactly like having Paige with me (they are only three weeks apart).  And Tyler...That kid is so stinkin' cute!  He is right in between Austin and Macy in age, and is a brilliant crack up.  He watches WWII documentaries narrated by Walter Cronkite for kicks, and knows Star Wars inside and out.  I don't know if I've ever met a kid who loves to laugh as much as Tyler, and Liz is an expert at making him laugh even if he is determined to stay grumpy.  She is such an amazing, patient, loving, fun mother.  I learned a TON from just watching her. 

 

So, one night, I got to stay home with the kids while Liz and Steve ran on a visit.  Brooke went down at 6:30 (oh yes, that is another significant different between Brooke and Miss Paige: Brooke actually loves to sleep), so Tyler and I watched "Kung Foo Panda."  It ended at 7:57.  I suggested that it was time for bed.  He said, "Um...I think my bedtime is actually 8:30."  (I told you he was smart!  But, I'm no dummy myself.  I had been there for several nights, and I knew it bedtime was eight o'clock.)  Instead of argue, I simply said, "I bet you can't get your pajamas on before I'm done using the bathroom."  Then, I ran to the bathroom as fast as I could.  He fell for it!  I love it!  Macy is so onto me.  Whenever I try this trick, she just stands there with her hand on her him and insists, "It isn't a race!"  It was so refreshing to have my "tricks" actually work again.

After jammies, I told Tyler that if he brushed his teeth, I would read him a story.  I met him in his room.  He was sitting on his bed with one of those "I Spy" books.  (Another point for Tyler.  Brilliant!  Select the longest possible book on the shelf.)  I looked at it and said, "You are going to have to help me with that one."  Dead serious and in a state of shock, he looked right at me and said: "You don't know how to read?"  I started laughing and explained that he will have to help me search for all the objects.  On the first page, we dutifully looked for every single object.  We were down to our last object and we were stumped, so I suggested that we quit and go on to the next page.  Without blinking an eye, Tyler said, "I'm not a quitter" and kept searching.  After that, my Mommy brain kicked in and I only started reading about three objects per page.  It still took us about 20 minutes to get through the book, but it was good because it reminded me of my kids and how much I really do enjoy reading to them at night and tucking them in bed.  

I owe the entire trip to Mr. Wonderful.  He took care of the kids all week and didn't even complain.  They didn't eat out once (much to my children's dismay - I tell them that I am allergic to McDonald's, so that is kind of a special "Daddy Thing").  Instead, they ate frozen meals that I had prepared earlier and he even "cooked" for them.  They were on time for church, and the house was spotless every night.  Honestly, it made me feel a little pathetic knowing that he does such a better job.  It was like they don't even need me.  But, without realizing it, he made me feel loved and needed these past few days.  He keeps walking around the house saying, "I'm just so glad that you are home!"  He even called me several times from work on Wednesday to tell me just that.  He's right.  It is good to get away, relax, and find some perspective.  But, there is nothing like having every member of your family nice and safe under the same roof!

Smiling, Happy People

Both of these babies are five days old!

Maybe this is exactly what God is handing out these days - happy, content little boys.  Perfect!  I'll take two!