One Thing I Love About Spring in December

One thing I love about spring in December (aka 2011) is that Tommy can do his favorite thing (throwing rocks in the water) even though it's December.

Also doing yoga on the back porch of Grandma Huggie's cabin. (no photo - you're welcome)

55 degrees, clear skies and I still ran inside

For the first time in my time in my life I hate that it gets dark at 4:30 in the afternoon because it drives me to the gym instead of the trail.

I hate it.

But even though I whine about it, I secretly love that Josh really won't let me run alone after dark. It's stupid, but it makes me feel tiny. Like Josh doesn't think it's unreasonable that some big bad guy is gonna throw me over his shoulder and steal me. The truth is, it's entirely unreasonable. But I love that Josh thinks it's possible.


Tonight I ran in the gym again. Because I couldn't get my butt out the door during the 8 short hours of daylight. I was trying to rush home to help with bedtime, so I only ran a mile. But I ran the whole dang thing.

And I only felt a little stupid when the lady who was well into her workout when I got there was still going strong when I left. (I am such a sissy.)

Also I fit through the hole in the fence again. Just sayin'.

Go Utes!

Josh and I might be the most apathetic people on the planet when it comes to sports. But when it comes time to choose between the U and BYU, we always pick Utes - mostly to make my mom mad. (And it works every time.)

But Great Grandma B (Josh's mom's mom) really wanted pictures of the boys in U clothes. So we did a tiny photoshoot.

Tommy was so cute with John. He used his highest pitched voice "Hi John!" he squeaked "John awake. John? John. Ball John. John. Tommy. A match?" He hardly stopped talking to John the whole time.

John shows off his dimples

Tommy steals the ball

And my favorite picture of all - eat your heart out mom, John LOVES the U. ;)

The Truth About Turning 26

Here's the thing about turning 26.

Not only did my brain finish forming, but apparently my driver's license expired.

Turns out my license expired back in April, and the only one who cares is Walmart. And they only care because I didn't have a receipt for the unopened package of newborn diapers which John grew out of.

So they're holding my $6 hostage until I get my license renewed.

Which is I why I got on the DMV's website this morning to learn that "there is no grace period" (say this in Jafar's evil voice from Alladin like when he's throwing him back into the cave of wonders and says "I'll give you your reward.... your eternal reward.....") and I have to retake both the written and road tests in order to get my license.

Are you wondering how long it's been since I took a written test of any kind? 6 years. That's right. Six. Years.

Did you wonder when this stressed out maxed out mother of two was going to drive (on her expired license) out to the DMV and wait in line to take a test to prove that she's a mediocre driver so she can return her diapers to Walmart?

Me too.

*sigh*

3 Babies

Tommy arrived in this world with a whole load of friends.

He was 1 of 10 babies born in 6 weeks in our ward.

He has a cousin on Josh's side just 6 weeks younger than him.

And in my family he's one of The "3 babies". I love it when all of the "3 babies" are together - which doesn't happen often. 

Last summer they all shared a stroller as we wheeled them around Thanksgiving Point.

On Christmas Eve this year I loved watching them run around enjoying each other's personalities.

And I really loved it when they all got in their new jammies.

Tommy is so lucky to have kids his age everywhere he goes - and I'm lucky to have their moms.

First Smiles

Merry Christmas to me!

This smile is so beautiful that I don't even care it was for Daddy and not for me.

And I hardly care that it took him 8 solid weeks to find it.

Christmas Morning

Merry Christmas from a very distracted family.

Carrot Nose

When we can't think of anything fun to do or anything good to eat and there's a holiday within 30 days, my default is pizza.

Always.

That's because in February it can be heart-shaped and festive.

In March it can look (sortof) like a clover.

In July you can leave some sauce showing for the stripes on the flag.

And when you're desperately wishing it was snowing so that Tommy could put an actual carrot nose on something, it can be a snowman pizza.

I know it looks gross, but it tasted delicious and Tommy loved the "carrot nose!" (which was actually made of a tomato.

This boy of mine, he loves the carrot nose.

And in case you don't think it's adorable how he says "carrot nose" here's a video so you can see what you're missing.

He loves the snowman ("tall tall tall!") but he really really loves the carrot nose.

A Moment of Silence

This may be the last year I can get away with such a lazy Christmas.

I bought everything from Santa right in front of Tommy.

Then he helped me carry it up the stairs.

Then he watched me wrap it and "hide" it in my closet.

He's been good about not opening presents, but every now and then he's fascinated with one and really wants to open it.

Until last night.

He ran into my bathroom (and subsequently the closet - the "hiding" place of Santa's presents) and slammed the door so I couldn't follow him.

Upon hearing the door slam, I went to see what naughty thing he was doing. I opened the door and he slammed it shut in my face again.

I pushed my way in, and a deliriously happy Tommy tried his best not to let me.

But I caught a glimpse of what he was hiding.

That is Santa's (not so) secret stash of presents.

I suppose it's time we step it up around here and put some effort into promoting the magic part of Christmas.

Sad John

Little John is now going by "Sad John" because about 10,000 times every day Tommy comes to tell me "Mommy. Sad John!" and point at the bedroom.

Poor John, he just can't seem to get comfortable and happy. And since he screams when I hold him, rock him, bounce him, and swaddle him, I choose laying him down instead.

Poor Sad John.

I hope he can be Little John again soon....

Gingerbread

This year a new Reilley family tradition was born.

Gingerbread houses!

I asked Tommy if he wanted to make a house or a train. He picked train. 

Unfortunately he did not pick "wait for the frosting to dry" so our train turned into a tee-pee train. A poorly constructed tee-pee train at that. And our boy did not turn into a builder. But he was one happy camper since he got to call all the shots. "right there!" and "ish one." (this one) were his favorite phrases.

He's never seen so much candy in one place before.

Ignore his chocolate-y covered face, and my well-rounded one and focus on the smiles.

"seventeen, fer-teen, niiiine" he counted while he put up the "baby tree" (in a high squeaky voice)

If only real trains ran on candy-coated tracks........

I can't wait to do this again next year.

Growth spurt

For a few weeks Tommy wasn't really eating much (if anything) and I started to worry....but then I got distracted from the worrying and did something else instead.

Then I got used to him having just a bite here and there.

And now I'm positively floored by this kid's ability to pack it away.

So far this morning he's had 3 bowls of cereal, 1 bowl of oatmeal, a banana muffin, & 2 glasses of milk. It's not even 10 yet......

Yesterday he had eaten 2 days worth of food by lunchtime.

He's constantly hungry and he's always constantly finding snacks for me to open for him.

Here's hoping it's just a growth spurt and not the new normal.

The Very Best Part

There are a million things I really truly love about Christmas. The music, the lights, the people, the cold, the parties, the cards, the shopping and gift finding, the concerts, the wrapping paper, the decorations, the food (oh! the food!), the family, the list goes on (and on and on...)

But the very best part of Christmas this year is Josh coming home every night and being home.

While I made dinner, Tommy, Dad, and John snuggled and talked about Christmas.

And (right now) that's the very best part.

Noises Which Are Not Crying

John finally made some.

And it was music to my ears.

return to running

Yesterday I ran for the first time since I called in sick 3 days in a row to Jess and had to tell her I was probably gonna be sick for at least 9 more months....

I know - I'm pretty impressive, but try to hold your applause while I brag.

I ran that treadmill straight into the ground. For exactly .75 miles at which point I pushed the "down speed" button as fast as humanly possible and sucked air while I walked it off. While walking the last .25 mile I pretended I was the on The Biggest Loser and Jillian was yelling at me about how I was gonna die tomorrow unless I ran again.

It turns out that I would suck at being on The Biggest Loser because I didn't run more than that. I just finished my mile and got the bike instead because I remembered that running is hard and I'm lazy and biking is fun.

Tonight I went back for more. I chanted the entire time "anyone can run a mile, anyone can run a mile". And I ran a mile. Then did weights because running on a treadmill is lame and I still hate it. I listened to music AND watched a show and I still wasn't distracted enough to forget how much I hate it.

Lest you think I'm a sissy, I'll be running outside when the air quality has finally allowed me to see the sun again. Because if I can't even see the sun at noon I refuse to breath outside. It's not the cold driving me indoors - it's the air.

Anyway, I know a mile is pathetic - particularly to those of you who hit your 1,000 goal before December even started, but for me I'm satisfied. Besides, I can bench press 30 pounds - ugh! (Somewhere out there Nick Jacobs is mocking me and setting the machine to 230 pounds just to show off and/or psych me out..... miss you Nick.)

I Wasn't Looking

I looked down, and suddenly John is no longer a baby. He's not teeny tiny, he doesn't make people involuntarily go "awww....." and he holds his own head up.

Plus this morning he looked me straight in the eye and smiled. I swear he did.

I love this boy. He cries an awful lot, creates more laundry than the other 3 members of our house combined  and refuses to sleep at night; but good grief, what's not to love?

My mom was right (again) it just goes faster and faster with each kid.

Garbage Truck (and friends)

On Friday when we walked past Ollie's house Tommy begged to play with Ollie (rhymes with Molly). 

On Saturday when he woke up and I said "guess who's here!" he said guessed Ollie.

On Sunday I asked Ollie's mom if he could please come over for a play date because clearly Tommy wasn't going to forget about it. 

Luckily Ollie's social calendar was clear for the morning and Tommy got his Christmas wish. 

These boys were adorable together, they chased each other around the house giggling and knocking each other over. 

They properly appreciated the Christmas decorations. ("Carrot nose!")

 They build a "train" out of half the toys in Tommy's toybox. "Chugga chugga!" They explained when I asked what they were doing.

And then the best part of the morning came. 

Tommy heard the garbage truck, grabbed Ollie's hand and went running for the window. 

It's the little things folks.

Glory

Tommy was having a meltdown during a particularly long drive a week or so ago. I could only sing "Up On the Housetop" one more time before going insane, so I my mind started racing through other things to occupy Tommy's mind.

My dad had just reminded me of how we (mostly my siblings) had memorized Luke 2 when we were young, so I started thinking of Christmas scriptures I knew so I could teach him while we drove. 

Now one of his favorites is "Gol-ry".

Today while waiting for the main event on the potty, we practiced scriptures and read stories. And since Tommy was conveniently trapped...I had time to grab my camera. Just for you.

Luke 2:14

Tummy Time = rolling

John & I were just sitting around enjoying tummy time, when all of a sudden.....

.....we stopped enjoying tummy time and enjoyed back time instead.

(For the record, this was the day he turned 6 weeks and he rolled front to back 5 or 6 times in a row before he got tired of the game and I quit putting him on his tummy.)

Baby It's Cold Outside

Temple square has a special place in my heart, and with the lights and the bustling people, it's probably the most romantic winter date I know of.

So for some reason I thought it'd be fun to take a 2 year old and an infant there too.

A 2-year-old who hates to have things on his head and hands....

Those fingers were red by the time we made it to the Visitors Center where Daddy convinced him that hats were "cool dooode" and warmed up the fingers with fire breath and gloves.

Little did he know he would be the handsomest bundled boy there ever was.

Since then he has thought hats and hoods are awesome and is boycotting all non-hooded coats and jackets. Awesome.

The lights were incredible this year. Well, what we saw of the lights anyway....

We spent most of the time chasing Boy Wonder (who thinks he owns the place and whose mother has taught him that playing in the water at Temple Square is perfectly acceptable behavior) and swinging the carseat of his tiny sidekick The Screamer.

Although we started the evening with most of my family we lost them after Tommy found the first fountain and our walk was brought to a screeching halt. 

So we ended the evening on our own.

Our own frozen family of four. 

Blessing Day: Johnathan William

I'm pretty sure that I would have died the morning we blessed John if Josh was still working Sundays. 

Really.

Died. 

But as it is, he wasn't working and instead he helped me clean the house, get the boys dressed and keep John from crying (sometimes). 

That's why we had time to snap a few pictures before church.

I particularly love Tommy's face in this picture. Sometimes he's doesn't sound/look/act like himself when we're around other people, but this smiling face is the one that I know and love.  Plus did you notice he's a handsome little boy? As in, NOT baby? True story.

 

I was so excited that we got to use this blanket again. My dear friend from work (Hi Karleen!) made it when Tommy was born and I immediately dubbed it The Blessing Blanket.

John is named for my dad and grandpa so I was glad they came to my house before the blessing so I could take a 3-John picture. So when Tommy looks at this picture he goes "John. John. John. A match!" and then giggles "silly grandpa....."

After church we had treats at our house for the people brave enough to stay for all 3 hours of church. Turns out that was just the right size crowd. My preparation for the event was minimal, my mom brought dilly rolls and lunch meat/cheese tray. Josh's mom brought cinnamon rolls (which I've eaten for breakfast every day since then) and others brought various cookies and goodies. I opened a veggie tray which I bought at Costco. It was lovely.

A Blur

6 weeks ago John was born. 

It's been a hard 6 weeks, but I'm hoping that 6 weeks is the magic amount of time so this child miraculously starts sleeping through the night, and my insane hormones get back to normal so I can deal with my life again. 

Because right now I feel like it's all a big blur. 

There are bits of adorability (adorabl-ness? nah, I like adorability better) in there, but mostly it's an overwhelming-hurts-to-look-at-it blur.

Missing

Since John was born there have been a lot of things gone missing in my life.

A lot.

It started when I left a house key for my mom and somewhere during her trip from the front door and the bathroom it vanished. My house ate it.

I suspect it's making out with my gym/pool key somewhere because the two of them have been missing for a suspiciously long time. Maybe they'll make awesome combo-key-babies.

Maybe they're next to my good sunglasses - which is a shame now that it's "sun bouncing off the snow and blinding you" season.

Or perhaps they're keeping company with all of the single socks and nursing pads which have apparently made their way out of my life.

But most likely they're all in this together. Hoarding all of the Christmas Spirit, Family Bonding and Positive Attitude. Because heaven only knows there's none of that to be found around here lately.

Dreaming

I am dreaming of a white Christmas.

Figuratively of course since I haven't slept long enough to literally dream since Little John was born.

But that's not all I'm (figuratively) dreaming of....

I'm dreaming of an end table that doesn't house a bottle or a diaper or wet wipes or a used burp cloth.

I'm dreaming of a day when I shower before noon.

I'm dreaming of a shopping trip that doesn't end in a mad dash home to feed the babe and stop the screaming.

I'm dreaming of a full night's sleep.

I'm dreaming of a Christmas shopping list with everything checked off. Everything.


I'm dreaming of Bob Harper. Biggest Loser on Netflix has gotten me through midnight feedings and I just have to know - does anyone NOT love Bob?

I'm dreaming of my skinny clothes. This time last year I was wearing an entirely different wardrobe.

I'm dreaming of packing up the bottles. My cupboards were so delightfully clear.

I'm dreaming of a quiet night at home, watching my boys, the Christmas tree, and sipping hot cocoa.

What are you dreaming of?

Progress Part II

Technically this happened on Thanksgiving, so it's really part 1, but it's coming 2nd in the blog so I'm calling it part 2.

Tommy's holding John!

John: 1 Month

John has me completely whooped after just a month of him in my life. He is a sweet sweet baby.

He's sleeping sometimes. But is on no real schedule yet. Part of this is because I can't bear to wake him up even if I should. I can't do it because there's no guarantee he'll go back down and when he's asleep I am either playing with Tommy or working.  During the day he usually eats every 3 or 4 hours, and if I get him to really fall asleep he'll sleep for 3 hours. At night it takes at least an hour to feed him then he goes back down for sometimes 2 hours and sometimes 5 hours. There's just no telling. This is the hardest part for me because I'm a bit psychotic and I NEEEEED a schedule.  And besides, I know he needs to sleep.

Being a mother of 2 is kicking my butt. I feel like I can barely keep my head above water and I'm just praying that we don't have a bad day because I won't be able to deal with it. I am constantly choosing which of my adorable children to take care of, and I really hate that. However, now that Tommy doesn't always hate John, I love to see the two of them be brothers. And I really love it when Tommy is "so soft!" with John.

Breastfeeding is hard. Pumping is hard. Formula is hard. They are also all beautiful glorious things. I'm doing all 3.
I love breastfeeding him when it's easy. I love it when Tommy is asleep and I can just sit on the couch and watch my beautiful child move. I love to cuddle him and snuggle and kiss his soft head. I love that part - it just seems like that rarely happens.
Pumping is awesome when I get something and I look at a couple of ounces of my milk in a bottle and feel all accomplished and amazing.
Formula is still smelly and sticky and gross and filled with guilt and pain. I hate it. But how nice is it to take an empty bottle and a formula dispenser to the grocery store and know that if John starts to cry I can just feed him while we walk around and he'll be fine? So SO nice.

Nobody is sleeping and everybody is ornery. (Mostly me.) But I really shouldn't complain when it's this sweet face keeping me up.

John sometimes stops eating just to smile at me and I swear my heart melts so fast I could sell that smile as a "quick boil" feature on a kitchen appliance.

I still think John is a carbon copy of Tommy at this age. One of the following pictures is Tommy and one is John. Can you tell which is which?

I've had a ridiculous amount of help this time around. If I paid my mom by the hour (or even reimbursed her for gas) she'd be a millionaire. I just feel like I can't pull it all together this time around. We have good days when we get out of the house or do productive things, but I still feel like I can't get on top of everything. I feel like I'm letting far too many things go and I don't really see that ending soon. I'm sure that eventually we'll fall into a rhythm, but right now everything is so chaotic that I don't understand how any human being has more than two kids. 

The bottom line is that this is exhausting and hard and incredibly rewarding. Because in what other job do you get to take a million pictures of two boys "bumping it" over their joint favorite panda bear?