Church These Days

After church yesterday Josh and I were reviewing our (insane!) upcoming week.

Josh: Oh and I just learned I have a meeting for church next Sunday night.
Me: OK I'll put it on the calendar.
Josh: *snicker*snicker* ok. It's at 6:30.
Me: *typing* "meeting for church" aka Ice cream Party
Josh: What?! You're not in Primary, how did you know?
Me: I'm a mom. I know everything.

What he doesn't know is that I am also a hall-dweller, I haven't heard a lesson in church since Josh got his calling.

But I do talk with other hall-dwellers for about 2 hours every week. I know who else has babies pre-nursery  post-reverence and I know how many weeks they have left. I know when the teachers didn't show up to teach primary and the presidency is looking to recruit hall-dwellers to teach. And my sources almost always tell me about events involving ice cream. Because they love me.


The thing about taking kids to church is that it mostly feels like a waste of time.
Josh is playing the piano in Primary (which isn't a waste of time),
Tommy is in nursery learning how to be reverent "cooo-eye-it feet mom! fode-a-arms mom!" (not a waste of time) but
John and I walk the halls for 2 straight hours while he fights sleep and I distract people from going to class. (A gigantic waste of time - mine, John's, the people I'm distracting.)

I fully intend to continue going to church each week because I believe it is a good habit and it's definitely NOT a waste of time for exactly 50% of my family, and while it will get worse before it gets better, I know it will get better. In 9 months to be exact. That sounds familiar. Because in just 9 more months this tiny baby

will be walking on his own into Nursery without me.

And the truth is I'll likely miss our hall-walking days.

Routine

It's not often that I really get ready for the day because I'm too lazy to wake up before my kids and my kids whine and cry at (or on) my feet the whole time I do it. And frankly it's too hot for a blow drier and I'll likely jump in the pool before the day is through anyway.

But every now and then I plop John B in the sink so I can get ready.

And since getting ready is boring John B finds a rag plays peek a boo with himself in the mirror.

This boy steals my heart on a daily basis. 

Vacation by the numbers

3: number of new careers we discovered for Josh. You know, just in case he wants to go back to school anytime soon. he doesn't.

5: number of $1 toys we bought at Target to keep the children entertained for the drive.

Unknown: the number of $1 toys from Target it would take to keep the children entertained for the drive.

14: the number of times John smacked his head on the metal bars of the crappy hotel crib every night before falling down and either falling asleep or passing out. I'm not sure which....

4: number of  sunburned part lines in my hair. I was trying to move my part regularly so I wouldn't get sunburned.

8: number of incredibly talented dolphins performing at Sea World.

1: number of rest stops we used to get out and stretch our legs. It was 1 too many.

2: number of pictures we took with Tommy and Mr. T. in Vegas. Poor Tommy was traumatized but too tired to know it.

3/4: number of hamburgers eaten straight off Tommy's plate by a seagull.

0: number of tide pools we saw. Wrong time of year I guess.

3: number of "real life" errands we ran on vacation.

7: number of waves crashing over Tommy's head before he stopped thinking it was fun.

69: dollars spent on salads.

15: hotel waffles baked and consumed.

TP & PT

My grandma always said that by the time you get to the 9th month of pregnancy the baby is fully developed and the point is for you to be so miserable that you're willing to do anything (labor) to get that baby out of you.

I thought it was funny until I was 9 months pregnant. Then I knew it was true.

Now I'm ready to add to my grandmother's wisdom with a bit of my own.

You have to have a child old enough to remove his own poopy diaper and who is willing to prove it before you're willing to go through anything (potty training) to teach him how to properly use a toilet.

Awards Ceremony San Diego

The awards for:

Best New Common Candy: Raspberry M&M's.

Important Life Lesson Learned: peeing on it doesn't help a jelly fish sting.*

Cutest Freaking Baby on the Planet: John Boy. People from Salt Lake to San Diego and everywhere in between (Vegas!) agree. This kid charmed everyone he came in contact with.

Longest Drive Ever: Vegas to Civilization in California. Long. And hot. And decidedly not pretty.

Secret Talent: Non-Splashing. We sat and front and center in the very middle of the soak zone of every show and never did get wet. Tommy and I even walked down to the space in front of the front row during the splash song and didn't get wet. We thought it was just a fluke until we sat in the splash zone in every other show and still didn't get wet. Now we know it's a secret talent.

Favorite New Genre of Food: Hippie. Trader Joe's, Chipotle, Tender Greens. We like hippie food.

Best Smelling Public Restroom Between Here and the Ocean: Maritime Museum on board the ship. Not even kidding. That bathroom smelled like roses (not literally - but figuratively) and probably had a rainbow coming out of the windows.

Most Emotional Person in Sea World: Me. Shamu made me cry. And then the dolphins made me cry. And then the dude wearing a wet suit doing flips into the pool made me cry. And then the lady tied to the roof wearing wings made me cry. Then not eating lunch where I wanted to made me cry. So..... there's that.

*Just kidding. I didn't try that.

It was a lovely day

6 years ago

July 20th, it was a beautiful day. 

Here's to 6 more years. 

We plan to keep getting better with age.

Some of Each Please

Fact: Josh and I are so painfully indecisive that we nearly didn't go on vacation because couldn't decide where we wanted to be.

Fact: I become the anti-Amy when it comes to vacation. I don't want to plan or write down anything beforehand. I don't want to make a schedule or know what we're doing or when. I just want to show up with no expectations and enjoy whatever happens.

So we had a wide-open day today. But people had suggested some things so they were on our list. Mormon Battalion place, La Jolla, Tide Pools, San Diego Temple, places to eat, etc.

So we got up this morning and got in the car while I googled some of those to pick where we went first.

We read somewhere that low tide would be in the morning so we headed off to find tide pools first, then La Jolla for the seals and an impromptu dip in the ocean. apparently Josh is physically incapable of getting that close to the water and not getting in. also incapable of watching the road if the ocean is in view. dangerous.

We went to the temple, and to best buy to exchange our broken DVD player for one that works (we hope!) because the thought of driving home terrifies us all. We got some lunch at this totally awesome mexican restaurante that gives out bull horns instead of burger king crowns. We went to the beach again because it had been nearly 3 hours since we were there last - unacceptable! - and we headed to the Mormon Battalion place. I was really surprised how cool that was. I don't know why I'm always surprised to like mormon stuff, but I am. Tommy panned for gold until the missionary left, then realized that he was standing in front of rocks and water and immediately started in on his favorite hobby. duh

Then we went - surprise! - back to the beach this time in beachwear ready to swim in the ocean. We built a sandcastle, burried Tommy (because we had no beach towells and the poor boy was teeth-chattering cold) and I got stung by a jelly fish. I wildly successful trial run at the beach day we have "planned" for tomorrow.

But the highlight of the trip for Josh is still the free hotel breakfast waffles.

Sea World

We planned to spend an entire day at Sea World because Tommy (aka the boss of this and every vacation from now until eternity) loves sea creatures and we were pretty confident he'd walk around with a look of awe and amazement on his face.

But the night before we went I said something about it on facebook and the responders (who I totally trust) were preparing me to not be blown away. So I started to panic and worry about what else we'd do instead.

As is usually the case when I panic it was entirely unnecessary. A bunch of other people told us they (and their kids) had loved Sea World and Tommy was over the moon. And so was Josh. And John just wanted a bottle so we keeping him happy was easy. It was beautiful.

Somehow we accidentally showed up at the park exactly 30 seconds after they opened. (If we had planned that we might have arrived by noon.) You could see our parking spot from the front gate and we were on the first rounds of all of the Sesame Street rides. Which is exactly where we started.  Tommy loved the rides and thought it was hilarious to make the Elmo car fly high up in the air exactly the way I remember doing to my mom on Dumbo. I have been to Disneyland once in my life and honestly I was too young to remember most of it, but I swear I can still hear my mom's voice going "oh no! higher? and higher? oh no! we're too high!" because I was so much braver than she was. We probably could have stayed on sesame street all day long. We rode the rides there, then swore we'd come back before too long and set off to see the penguins and Shamu.

The whale show was surprisingly amazing to me. The animals are HUGE and beautiful and so incredibly smart. I couldn't believe what they were capable of and I couldn't believe how ridiculously emotional it made me. I may or may not have teared up. #whatasissy

From the whale show we headed straight for the Dolphin show.

*side story: one time josh and i went to sea world with some friends while on a cruise. we only had a few hours there and the friend reading the schedule thought the Xs in the box meant "no show at this time" instead of "show at this time" and we missed EVERY show except the dog show. we went to sea world and watched a dog show and nothing else. that's why the shows mattered to us this time.

The Dolphin show was so extraordinarily cheesy that I still can't figure out why I was so impressed. the dolphins did cool tricks, the divers did cool tricks, the cheesy girl stood and waved her arms around to show how happy she was. It was all very nice. But impressive? Hardly. So why did I leave and immediately look at the schedule to see when the next show was so we could see it again? I don't know.

After seeing more animals and exhibits we accidentally walked past Shamu again just as it was starting. So we went to watch a few minutes of it one more time.

Side Note: I wish I had known that you don't have to wait in line for these shows. The stadiums are HUGE HUGE HUGE and you are going to get in even if you walk in 5 minutes after the show starts. Don't waste your time waiting in line.

More animals. More food. More sunscreen. And we were off to see the seals, feed the flamingos and watch a 4D elmo show. And that's when we learned that Tommy hates glasses and that he will gladly sit through a blurry movie if Elmo is in it and water squirts out of the seats in front of you.

After the seal show we realized we probably wouldn't make it back to re-do anything and made our first efficient plan of the day. A path to see all the remaining exhibits on the way out.

We were finally over tired and way too sunburned to stay out any longer and decided to come home and order pizza before falling asleep.

We would go back again and again if it wasn't so crazy expensive.

I've never been so glad for my dear friends to be wrong.*

*They weren't wrong, they were simply warning that they weren't so impressed and hoping that we weren't disappointed. I have good friends all around.

So many stories so little time

There I was whining on facebook about how my husband would rather stay home and potty train Thomas than go on vacation with his week off work (over our anniversary!) and with the support of 300 of my closest friends I planned a vacation anyway. That was 3 weeks ago.

That's why we are in San Diego right now. Thank goodness for facebook!

Unless you're a stalker a creepo or a robber, then we are already home from San Diego. Or we haven't left yet. And we have a pit bull. Besides, based on the amount of stuff we have with us we there's nothing in our house anyway.

But the thing about going on vacation is that before we even got here there were at least 29 stories so funny they couldn't be left off the blog.

Like the one where we told Tommy we were going on vacation and he saw me packing his swimsuit so he started begging to go to the "ay-cay-shun-poo!" (vacation pool) and I promised him we would. And the look the face of the people in the Fillmore Carl's Jr. when he asked if we were at the ay-cay-shun-poo now.

Or the one where one or more adults in the vehicle had a tiny meltdown about a Jim Gill song wherein everybody "yodles".

Or the one where we told Tommy that we really were going on vacation but we had to go to Stinky Vegas first and he and Johnny got in a hysterical laughing fit about "Stinky Vegas" repeating it at least as many times as we listened to Jim Gill try to yodle.

Or the one where we got lost in Vegas and walked around for what felt like 10 hours in what felt like 900 degree temperatures at bedtime only to learn that M&M World was 7 miles away and our hotel was on top of some kind of awesome twilight zone where Mr. T. and Mario/Luigi are across the street neighbors and only one of them charges you to take their picture.

Or the one where Tommy (who we often call Mr. T. you know....T for Tommy. Pitty the fool. It's clever.) and I got a picture with Mr. T. in Vegas.

Or the one where we stopped at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere to change a diaper and there were no changing stations so we changed all the diapers straight on my lap (naked bums on my lap. ew.) and an old lady with a dog made Johnny cry.

Or the one where we set "nakie TOMMY!" (he's apparently a superhero whose super power is posing like Buzz Lightyear before taking off running into busy streets.) loose at the St. George splash pad because it was too hot to keep driving.

Or the one where we FINALLY landed in our Vegas hotel room (dingiest yuckiest dirtiest place on the planet. I still do not heart Vegas.) and Tommy immediately ran to the bed, put on Josh's sunglasses and jumped up and down like a maniac chanting "Vegas! Vegas! Vegas!"

Or the one where the hotel (which I chose partly because they said they had a crib) didn't have a crib available for John so I went shopping all by myself in the middle (ok early part) of the night in a strange city where the (male) cashier's nails were long and pointy and he spoke with a creepy vampire lisp and asked if I wanted him to paint my fingernails because "that's such a pretty color". #iambrave #iambrave #iambrave

Or the one where we found the perfect place for dinner and a walk along some kind of marina and a park with the ocean and Tommy chased the birds and threw the rocks and everybody came home smelling like ocean. (Except for Tommy because he rode home in his bare nakeds which was only the 2nd funniest thing ever because he had just finished throwing rocks in the OOOOOOO-SHIN MOM.)

See? So many stories. So very very little time. Probably at some point there will be a ridiculous number of photos about this trip on the blog.

In the meantime instragram is proving to be quite lovely for my obsessive photo documentation needs.

Perspective

Yesterday I "ran" for 57 minutes. I was amazed that I was feeling so great and breathing so easily and at one point I think I literally patted myself on the back. I was doing a new (to me) route in reverse and I got lost and then I got found and then I figured I would just keep going. And I was so proud of me for running that entire time! It is (by far) a record for me.

BUT (a big but) I only ran 4.2 miles. In 57 minutes. And now you know why "ran" is in quotation marks. I have never run so slowly in my entire life. No wonder I was breathing easily.

But considering I always stop at a 5k, this was still a big deal. And running for a whole hour is a big deal. I tried to opt for "proud of me" instead of dwelling on the fact that most people walk faster than that.....but.....

Then today Tommy and I went for a walk. When I asked Tommy if he wanted to ride in the stroller or walk he emphatically said "WALK! WALK MOMMY! I PUSHA STROLLER! POOOOOSH A JOHN B!"

So I brought the single stroller and John got the seat.

1 hour later we had walked a mile. So technically yesterday I ran 4 times faster than Tommy - and anytime I'm going 4 times faster than anything I celebrate that.

It's all about perspective.

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Tomorrow morning we're leaving to drive to California. We'll stop in Vegas on the way out and St. George on the way back. That makes 4 days in the car with the sweetest little boys on the planet.

But they'll be strapped in. And Tommy is currently in a fight with his car seat so he's probably not going to be happy. "Momma, I'm stuck in this car seat again!"

And when Tommy ain't happy ain't nobody happy.

But we're going to California so I am over-the moon excited about getting in that car tomorrow morning.

It's all about perspective.

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Now that John learned to pull himself up on things he refuses to be set down. As soon as I set him down he races to the nearest vertical surface to pull himself up. Then he gets himself vertical and immediately falls flat on his back. So I carry him, feed him or sleep him 24 hours a day.

I can only assume that's because the view down there sucks.

It's all about perspective.

Soggy McSoggerson

Tommy is so lucky that sometimes he gets to play with friends!
Ones with backyards!
Ones whose mothers let them play in those backyards!
Backyards with little pools!
And slides!
And buckets!
And water!
And "Mom, dirt EVERYWHERE!" (which is funny since the only dirt to be seen was in the potted plants on top of the pavers in the backyard.)
OK really just one of those friends. But we're REALLY glad he has that friend.

Since it was just a backyard splash pool and they might be coming in and out of the house I thought it would be better to leave him in a regular diaper instead of the useless swim diapers.

2 hours (and heaven only knows how much water) later that diaper had proven the extent of the absorbent abilities and I am well beyond impressed.


That diaper was so full that I could barely get his swim suit off over it - it was swollen bigger than the swimsuit. 

When I started laughing he started laughing, then he (accidentally) figured out that he could make the diaper swing like a pendulum and the laughing tripled.

We are lucky to have such great friends or we may never know how much our Target diapers could really hold.

Faster

I swear John is aging 10 times faster than Tommy did. When Tommy was this age I spent every waking moment (his waking, not mine) with him. Learning and playing and crawling around on the floor.

John spends every waking moment with Tommy, and occasionally when Tommy goes to play with Grandma John plays with me. But I feel like I'm missing most of what he's doing.

One day I noticed that he was rolling all around, but I didn't anticipate and wait for it like I did with Tommy.

The next day (or so it seems) he was crawling and I noticed, but I didn't wait for it and watch him rock back and forth for hours before the real crawling started.

Last week I held his hands above his head to see if he'd take a (very well supported) step for the first time. This was the first time I'd ever done that. I swear with Tommy we did that as soon as he could hold his body up. I remember wrapping my hands around his middle and turning him side to side pretending he was walking. He couldn't have been more than 3 months old. When I did it with John last week, he got up on his tippie toes in a way most ballerinas train for years to do. Then he took the teeniest tiniest steps forward nearly landing the stepping foot on top of the standing foot.

It's amazing to me how much faster it seems to be going this time around and how much more I'm missing.

When Tommy was born Josh and I just kept doing everything together with him. We crowded around the bathtub so we could both give him a bath.
One of us would hold the camera while the other fed the baby because neither one of us could stand to miss even one single thing.

But now that there are two of them, we've learned to divide and conquer. My friend Jill explains it perfectly here. Our "us" is wildly different than it was. Instead of doing everything together we divide and conquer in almost every piece of the day.

Even Tommy helps with the dividing, spending loads of time entertaining (and chasing) John B. (Do you think we should legally change his name so John B makes sense? Sometimes I wonder...Part of me thinks that a person's name should be the same thing people call them...) But I feel like I'm missing it. John spends very little time away from me, but I feel like I spend very little time WITH him.

The worst part about it is that I suspect life will only get crazier and faster as it goes on.

So every now and then when I have a chance to take John (and only John) on a diaper date, I wouldn't miss it for the world.

He could take it or leave it - but I'm confident he'll learn the beauty of the soft pretzels and icees before long.

I love this boy with all my heart and resolve on a regular basis to stop missing his life. Someone please help me with that!

And then my life was over

John has been trying to pull himself up on things for at least 48 hours now.

And today I caught him in the act. He is far from stable, but there he is, on his own tippie toes trying to reach Tommy where clearly all the fun is.

Happy Boy

I often feel like Josh's family thinks Tommy is high maintenance. He often gets scared and nervous and weepy around them and I think they're generally annoyed by his lack of excitement. They totally love him and think he's adorable and shower him with kindness and love - but the crying gets old.

He genuinely loves them all. He begs to go to Grandma's house and "see bubbles!" and all the other fun things they do there. He hates to leave their house and always wants to play "Just OOOOOONE more minute." Grandma and Grandpa Reilley are always doing something fun and asking to take him along. He loves it.

But he always take a few minutes to warm up to the atmosphere. It's almost always a lot of people, all of whom want to touch and hold and tickle him. And I think that freaks him out - until he's been there for 5 minutes, then he chases them around giggling and laughing. But because of his hesitation to warm up he has a reputation for being a mama's boy (he is) and high maintenance. 

Enter family pictures. 

Throw the child in the car and drive him up the canyon in the heat and let him get out 4 times just to buckle him back in within 10 minutes and you have one weepy overheated ultra-shy baby. Stick that kid in front of a camera and tell him to smile and sit a certain way and you wind up with pictures like this.

But as soon as he didn't have to pose or smile or be on display; he, Grandpa and Cayson headed for the river to enjoy the fun part of the mountains. And you wind up with pictures like this. 

This is the boy I know and love. This is the kid I hang out with all day long and I love him dearly.

I feel like I've learned how to deal with Tommy and talk him into most things, but it requires a lot of heads up and a lot of coaxing to make it a good experience. And when you don't have time for such nonsense, the 2 year old rules the roost. 

Lucky for us our babies are cute even after tiny meltdowns. 

I really love this family. They are funny and fun and there is always someone ready to have any conversation you're looking for. 

Not a bad lookin' bunch are we? 

Plus every now and then someone mixes up who belongs with who and I wind up in an alternate universe posing with Tayler instead of my own significant other.

I heart family pictures. Fortunately for us we're doing them with my side of the family in just a couple of weeks. Maybe that time we can get all of Tommy's weepy whininess out beforehand. *sigh*

Empty

Our house is full. Very very full. 

I don't even mind cleaning the baseboards because there are really only a few inches of baseboard visible since furniture lines every wall of every room in the house. 

So when I told Josh we were having the carpets cleaned, he got all sorts of excited and moved all the furniture down to the garage.

As it turns out my boys don't need furniture to be happy. They were thrilled with one GIANT ROOM with no furniture to avoid while they ran around and wrestled like crazy people. 

Lucky for the boys we scheduled the carpet for July 5th, which means we spent the 4th of July moving the furniture. 2 whole days of an empty living room. 

Then the truck blew up while they were cleaning the carpet and we had to wait 1 more full day before getting the carpets cleaned. Which meant one more full day without furniture and free deodorizer for me. 

Lucky boys. Lucky me.

Atonement = pass, barely

June was supposed to be a month spent studying the atonement.

What I meant when I wrote this was to be deeply engrossed in the subject. To have it fill my mind constantly. Listening to talks and reading books by geniuses. Devouring everything I could find about it.

Somehow life got away from me (again? still?) and I that didn't even come close to happening.

But I did study the topic while at the temple.

And I lazily glanced through a book or two about it.

And every day I saw the reminder on my calendar to "study the atonement" so I felt a lot of guilt about how non-engrossed I was. (Does guilt count? I hope so. Maybe if I studied the atonement better I would know how much guilt would be worth on judgement day.)

So I'm giving myself a barely passing grade.

"C's get degrees!" has been the mantra in this house for the last two years....so while the goal in my head was an A+++, I'm settling for a C and hoping to do better next year.

To hold me accountable for all the months so far......click here.

Go America!

Josh really loves fireworks, so the 4th of July is a favorite holiday for him.

It might be because Josh loves it so much, or it might be because we had no more milk for our cereal, but to celebrate we started our morning with festive breakfast.

Last year we accidentally stumbled upon Sandy City's giant all day celebration and it instantly became a tradition.

So this year we loaded the kids (and ridiculous amount of stuff) in the car and headed for the party early.

Let me tell you one thing about parades in the evening. There is a good reason only one city in the whole state does an evening parade. And that reason is the sunshine. And the sweat. And the 98-thousand-degrees-and-no-rain-in-37-days aspect of July in Utah.

But we're hardcore and got there early enough for a spot on the right side of the street. Which makes for crappy pictures, but a fun parade experience. And as I have  to remind myself daily, it's fun even if we have crappy pictures.

Tommy was a big fan of the parade and especially of the flag guy who came and gave EVERYONE "even John B!" a flag.

John lazily whacked the pin wheel for the first 15 minutes, then demanded food because it was bedtime. 

But he was pretty mad when he realized the regular bedtime noise (Tommy, come get in the tub! Tommy, stop splashing. That's one.....that's two..... Which jammies do you want? Tommy, Tommy. Cinder-TOOOOMMMMMY!) was going to be replaced with sirens and cheering and hooting and hollering.

But when Dad gave him a graham cracker and let him sit up, he was suddenly happy again.

Josh is infinitely better at calming babies this age than I am. I am infinitely better at calming Tommy's age (and personality) than he is. So we divided and conquered.

See? Conquered.

The parade was awesome, great bands, more bagpipes than I can count and hats and sheriff stickers for everyone!

We had awesome parade neighbors who were happy to share their candy and cheered loud enough with us to get plenty for all of us. They were kind and cooperative and didn't mind our crying baby and we didn't mind their 11 year old ball thief who got every single cool thing they gave out. 

After the parade was the concert and sitting around part of the night. That is my favorite part. But with 2 kids and 2 adults I'm afraid there was more dividing and conquering. I'd run to the car while Josh watched the kids, I'd watch the kids while he found a bathroom, he'd watch the kids while I got food & water. It was painfully typical of our lives. 

But while we were together we had a grand time. Except that our Parade Neighbors were not our Lawn Neighbors and the LNs should have taken a lesson from the PNs. The LNs reserved roughly 2 square feet for all 4 of the 17 year-old lanky man-children. The teenage boys (naturally) wanted to wrestle and wound up doing so on our blanket, which was both annoying and dangerous for the infant among us. Josh and I passive-agressively stretched out as big as we could during fireworks so our feet with right next to their heads (on our blanket). See? Now aren't you glad you didn't pick a fight with us? We're so mean.

Somehow John stayed awake this entire time. I suppose it's not really surprising considering the excitement (noise) level of those around us, but considering he normally wakes up at 4pm and goes to bed at 6:30pm the fact that he was still awake at 8 was surprising to me. 

And when he ditched the pants at 9 I was confident he'd crash and burn soon.

But he was still awake when I decided to make us take a family picture 15 minutes later. 

And at 10:15 when my camera battery died trying to take a fireworks picture.

And clear until 10:45 when we put him in the car to go home. At which point he zonked out and slept through the most frustrating escape from gridlock we've ever been in. The frustration was likely exaggerated by the driver's full bladder (I wonder how many accidents per year are caused by full bladders?). Although we've exited many crowded parking lots we've never seen the crazy shenanigans we saw last night.

It's still a bit crazy to me that cities did fireworks this year since parking your car on grass is OBVIOUSLY too dangerous, but we watched them soak the field around the launch zone for a solid 45 minutes before beginning the show. And clearly nobody was opposed to the celebration. So......whatevs, it's cool. [shrugs]

We came home with pockets full of candy, heads full of memories and a camera full of pictures to prove it. 

Happy Birthday America.

Mirrors

Do you ever forget what you look like? I think I often do. I like to think my personality does not (currently) match my body and face, but the matching is neither here nor there. The thing is I am so out of touch that I forget what I look like.

Until I'm taking a yoga class and we turn to face the mirrors. And there I am completely unforgiven and accurately reflected NOT doing that pose.

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Fast forward a few weeks, we have family pictures and I opt to shop alone for my "something blue" to wear so at least I match my boys.

Upon my return from the local department store, I got ready for my fashion show with Josh showing off my favorite of my newfound treasures.

"Before you say anything you should know that this is my favorite one.....okay?" I yelled through our closed bedroom door.
"Babe, I'm sure you're beautiful" he started and then I came out strutting my stuff. 
"I like it." He said with that look on his face that I knew he'd have before I even bought the shirt. 
He got 3 points for saying something nice anyway. But there were like 25 points available....so.....
"OK fine. You think I look like an old lady?" I demanded in the tone of voice every man (rightfully) fears.
"YOU don't look like an old lady, but that shirt looks like something one of our moms would wear." He slowly thought about each word before letting it escape his lips.
"You're no fashion expert, I'm texting Ash. This is the style." I turned on my heel and stormed into the bedroom to take a picture of myself.

I texted Ash. She wasn't a fan either and the shirt is currently in my "to return" pile.

I suspect I'm an old lady on the inside. I like old lady clothes (minus velcro shoes) and I want to do water aerobics instead of Zumba and I count how much fiber I eat and I wish I owned one of those ridiculously floppy gardening hats and I want to go to bed at 9:30.

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Although the entire state is on fire, everybody's still celebrating America by blowing stuff up. (Go America! Don't let a pesky little wildfire, or 15 or a mere 18 gazillion acres burned scare you away.)

So last night when the fireworks started down the street at the end of a very long night and the unreasonable hour of 9:30pm, I walked out on the balcony in my pajamas to see the hooligans and perhaps give them a nasty stare. While secretly enjoying the show I was too responsible chicken to put on myself.

Imagine my surprise when directly across the street a crotchety old man in his pajamas and bathrobe was doing the same thing? We've lived here 6 years and I didn't even know that guy lived there...he's THAT crotchety. I suddenly saw myself as the crotchety old man across the street.

There you have it. Irrefutable evidence that I am in fact 83 on the inside and only 27 on the outside.

A cryin' shame isn't it?

John: 8 Months

Were you wondering if John had survived all 8 of his months? He has. It's true. 

In just 8 months he has learned: 

to feed himself (survival of the fittest)

to move himself (survival of the fittest)

to giggle uncontrollably (survival of the fittest)

to steal his older brother's toys (a little risk since he has all of these survival skills)

and to clap (just because he was bored)

He naps 2 times every day. Usually with his feet up. Because he loves me. 

He loves to swing and to jump. Push play to hear the giggling in quick 10 second videos. 

This boy is just "as sweet as pie" as I remind him on a daily basis and he's too smart for his britches. (Thus the many pictures with no pants on. Pants are for the birds.)

He's one of my 3 favorite boys. He really is an angel baby and I love him more than anything. I'm so, so glad he's mine. Even though he requires food 29 times/day. *sigh*