Today I registered Tommy for kindergarten.
Remember not so long ago when you all rejoiced with me because I was finally pregnant? Remember how then you cried with me because his heart wasn't beating in there and Dr. Man thought maybe there was no baby at all (but I made a deal with T-man and Dr. Man was wrong)? Remember when my ankles were bigger than your waist? When I barfed in all the public restrooms in the state of Utah? When my belly got all abusive at church and started smackin' people? When I thought I peed my pants, but really my water broke? And when he was born and we all fell in love with his beautiful beautiful self?
Well that baby is so big now that the people want to teach him things, so in the fall he'll start kindergarten.
He's so big that when we walked into the Dr.'s office to pick up his immunization records he didn't even cry.
He's so big that he likes to read some words to me when we have snuggles and stories. But mostly he doesn't like taking tests - which is clearly what reading words is all about...
He's so big that his feelings are hurt by his friends, his body no longer heals at the freakish wolverine rate of a newborn and he can tell when he has hurt someone else.
He's so big that prefers showers over baths and draws smiley faces on the fogged up glass when I ask him if he's ok in there.
And oddly he's still so small. So small that he still loves that "lovey bear" someone gave us when he was born.
He's so small that he still snuggles when we read stories.
He's so small that his backpack is bigger than he is.
He's so small that I really can't imagine sending him off into that big bad school all by himself.
He's so small that when I pick him up, he still snuggles into my lap and giggles when I tell him that he used to be so small that he didn't even have to bend his knees to snuggle on my lap.
Friday, February 27, 2015
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Being Who I Want to Be
I know a lot of really cool people, which means that I sometimes set unreasonable "goals" compare myself to them.
"I wish I could make every food delicious and beautiful like Wendy."
"I wish I took beautiful photos like Tracy."
"I wish I could be thoughtful and considerate like Sarah."
"I wish I had even half the energy Kate has."
intelligent like Mom
disciplined like Em
wise like Jo
compassionate like Hilary
welcoming like Jacy
Lest you think this is a story about letting go of comparison and embracing my own gifts or some other such emotionally healthy nonsense; let me assure you, this is not that moment.
I'm internet friends with Ariel, and a long long time ago when her oldest babe and mine were far tinier than they are now, we both participated in a conversation about non-baby-lullaby songs to sing to your baby. She has a beautiful voice and rattled off 5 or 10 "cool kid" songs that she sings as lullabies to her babies. (What I wouldn't give to be on the other side of that baby monitor...unless that's creepy, then nevermind.) Some were classic, some kid songs, and more than one currently popular song. I want(ed) so desperately to be cool enough to sing cool kid music to my kids at night.
So I tried memorizing lyrics to songs I thought I knew but really didn't. I reached back to my childhood to learn the real lyrics (and not the mmms and oombas) to the songs my mom still sings around the campfire with a guitar. They were cool once. I learned a few lines to a few songs and mmmmd and ooombad my way through the rest. Then I quit trying to memorize things because something about giving birth eternally ruins your brain. That's why they tell you to finish school first.
But last night I found myself singing "Pompeii" to get Little John to sleep. I think it's an entirely appropriate lullaby because the phrase "close your eyes" is used over and over and over. Little John thinks it's an appropriate lullaby because he chose it for the family album this year, which obviously means he OWNS it. The whole song. And all rights to it. "Is MY song mom! Own-ee you sing it to ME! Not mine bwuduh."
After 4 rounds of the whole song his eyelids gave up and he was out. After my victory lap down the hallway, I realized my victory lap could celebrate more than simply getting that child to sleep! I also unwittingly became what I wanted to be! A cool kid lullabyer!!!
So the moral of the story is this: try real hard and maybe someday you can be as cool as some of the people around you.
But you won't notice it. Because by the time it actually happens you'll be so tired that all you'll care about is that the baby's eyelid muscles(1) were finally exhausted.
1. Were you wondering what that muscle is called? Me too. Levator Palpebrae Superioris. You're welcome.
"I wish I could make every food delicious and beautiful like Wendy."
"I wish I took beautiful photos like Tracy."
"I wish I could be thoughtful and considerate like Sarah."
"I wish I had even half the energy Kate has."
intelligent like Mom
disciplined like Em
wise like Jo
compassionate like Hilary
welcoming like Jacy
Lest you think this is a story about letting go of comparison and embracing my own gifts or some other such emotionally healthy nonsense; let me assure you, this is not that moment.
I'm internet friends with Ariel, and a long long time ago when her oldest babe and mine were far tinier than they are now, we both participated in a conversation about non-baby-lullaby songs to sing to your baby. She has a beautiful voice and rattled off 5 or 10 "cool kid" songs that she sings as lullabies to her babies. (What I wouldn't give to be on the other side of that baby monitor...unless that's creepy, then nevermind.) Some were classic, some kid songs, and more than one currently popular song. I want(ed) so desperately to be cool enough to sing cool kid music to my kids at night.
So I tried memorizing lyrics to songs I thought I knew but really didn't. I reached back to my childhood to learn the real lyrics (and not the mmms and oombas) to the songs my mom still sings around the campfire with a guitar. They were cool once. I learned a few lines to a few songs and mmmmd and ooombad my way through the rest. Then I quit trying to memorize things because something about giving birth eternally ruins your brain. That's why they tell you to finish school first.
But last night I found myself singing "Pompeii" to get Little John to sleep. I think it's an entirely appropriate lullaby because the phrase "close your eyes" is used over and over and over. Little John thinks it's an appropriate lullaby because he chose it for the family album this year, which obviously means he OWNS it. The whole song. And all rights to it. "Is MY song mom! Own-ee you sing it to ME! Not mine bwuduh."
After 4 rounds of the whole song his eyelids gave up and he was out. After my victory lap down the hallway, I realized my victory lap could celebrate more than simply getting that child to sleep! I also unwittingly became what I wanted to be! A cool kid lullabyer!!!
So the moral of the story is this: try real hard and maybe someday you can be as cool as some of the people around you.
But you won't notice it. Because by the time it actually happens you'll be so tired that all you'll care about is that the baby's eyelid muscles(1) were finally exhausted.
1. Were you wondering what that muscle is called? Me too. Levator Palpebrae Superioris. You're welcome.
Monday, February 16, 2015
School
Somehow 3 years have passed since Little John was born and he should be going to preschool in the fall!
With no other babies on the horizon, and Tommy in Kindergarten and John in preschool my mind is exploding a little bit.
My work is a bit up in the air which makes planning hard, but I think we've found a place for John to go to preschool, and Tommy will either get in with a charter school nearby *fingers crossed* or just go to the public school in the neighborhood.
Either way it's time to get them all registered and make commitments about where they'll spend a significant portion of their time in the fall! It's crazy to me to think that we're at the phase of life where we've left behind all the poop buckets, and our kids are in school! Both of them!
Seriously! School! For all the babies.
With no other babies on the horizon, and Tommy in Kindergarten and John in preschool my mind is exploding a little bit.
My work is a bit up in the air which makes planning hard, but I think we've found a place for John to go to preschool, and Tommy will either get in with a charter school nearby *fingers crossed* or just go to the public school in the neighborhood.
Either way it's time to get them all registered and make commitments about where they'll spend a significant portion of their time in the fall! It's crazy to me to think that we're at the phase of life where we've left behind all the poop buckets, and our kids are in school! Both of them!
Seriously! School! For all the babies.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Been Thinking
When I graduated from LDS Business College it was with "just an associates" and I knew it wasn't as far as I wanted to take my college education. I knew I wanted to get at least a bachelor's degree, but I had no idea in what.
Well, sortof. I had some ideas.
Like maybe I wanted an accounting degree. I could be a CPA. (insert hysterical laughter here, I honestly thought that might be an acceptable career path for me! Let 2015 Amy tell 2005 Amy, it isn't.)
Or probably something in business. But not really marketing or entrepreneurship (requires too much creativity and risk). But something about running a business is good. I just didn't know what. And I had a job I loved. So I simply put it off.
[insert really fabulous graduation picture here - hey mom, do you have any pictures of my graduation? cuz I don't!]
Then I went around getting married all the time. Because Josh.
But now I think I know what I want to do. Because my friend Aundrea got her MBA and I was jealous of that piece of paper. And I started working for my friend Jacy who founded The Togetherness Project (a non-profit) and I love doing that. And my boss started a non-profit for business incubators. And sometime last fall I realized that what I really really want to do is get an MBA and be the queen of a non-profit business that I really really believe in.
Well, sortof. I had some ideas.
Like maybe I wanted an accounting degree. I could be a CPA. (insert hysterical laughter here, I honestly thought that might be an acceptable career path for me! Let 2015 Amy tell 2005 Amy, it isn't.)
Or probably something in business. But not really marketing or entrepreneurship (requires too much creativity and risk). But something about running a business is good. I just didn't know what. And I had a job I loved. So I simply put it off.
[insert really fabulous graduation picture here - hey mom, do you have any pictures of my graduation? cuz I don't!]
Then I went around getting married all the time. Because Josh.
Then Josh finished his pre-reqs for nursing.
And I still didn't know what I wanted to do and I had a job I loved.
Then Josh graduated from the cool school. (Institute of Healing Arts)
And I still didn't know what I wanted to do and I had a job I loved.
Then Josh did the massage therapy thing.
And I still didn't know what I wanted to do (except have babies of course...) and I had a job I loved.
Then Josh's waiting period was up and he got his RN.
And I had babies and had a job that let me stay home and we didn't have time or money for things like school - and though I didn't know it, I still didn't know what I wanted to do.
Then we moved a buncha times and I mostly felt unsettled and stressed out and overwhelmed. And I still didn't know what I wanted to do.
But now I think I know what I want to do. Because my friend Aundrea got her MBA and I was jealous of that piece of paper. And I started working for my friend Jacy who founded The Togetherness Project (a non-profit) and I love doing that. And my boss started a non-profit for business incubators. And sometime last fall I realized that what I really really want to do is get an MBA and be the queen of a non-profit business that I really really believe in.
So I made an appointment to talk to an academic advisor at UVU because my assumption is that it will be the least expensive option to get a bachelor's in business management. I'm planning to go REALLY slowly, very part time, because I still need to work in order to get into most MBA programs - and something about paying our bills..... I don't have a ton of spare time right now anyway. So, slow is good for me right now, and if it takes 10 years, then the party at the end of it will be 10 years big. :)
Anyway, I went to UVU to see about some options. And I hope that I just started my "back to school" journey. There are about a million issues to work out, but I have high hopes that working toward this degree can start soon. Because look at these possibilities!
Monday, February 9, 2015
On the Library
My mom is a children's librarian. Well, THE children's librarian as far as my kids are concerned. Not that we don't like other librarians - we do. It's just that they pale in comparison to THE librarian.
Also they think she OWNS the library. "Yay! We can go to GRAMMA'S library!!!" they shout when we go to grandma's library. Which isn't often, cuz you know, it's nearly ten whole minutes away.
What I'm trying to show you here is that my kids are library spoiled.
They get special treatment, many of the other librarians know them, they are sometimes allowed behind the counter, and they almost always leave Grandma's library with a treat. Plus they've spent enough time there that they are unreasonably comfortable with the whole place. Even the creepy stairwell to get downstairs. They just really love Grandma's library.
Plus Grandma is always telling us about the cool programs they're doing. Like 1,000 books before kindergarten.
I signed the boys up in January, and last week we finally turned in the first chart of 100 books.
The each read (listened to me read) 100 books and colored in their chart and got these awesome library bags as a prize. We already had a million books checked out from our library, which cooperates with my mom's library and when the boys got their new bags, they couldn't figure out why we'd leave the library without filling them up with a million more books. The good news is that even though the libraries cooperate and allow you to check out from either one with either card, they don't tell on you for already having a million books already checked out.
Which is why we currently have TWO million library books at our house. Suckers. We really took them didn't we?
Also they think she OWNS the library. "Yay! We can go to GRAMMA'S library!!!" they shout when we go to grandma's library. Which isn't often, cuz you know, it's nearly ten whole minutes away.
What I'm trying to show you here is that my kids are library spoiled.
They get special treatment, many of the other librarians know them, they are sometimes allowed behind the counter, and they almost always leave Grandma's library with a treat. Plus they've spent enough time there that they are unreasonably comfortable with the whole place. Even the creepy stairwell to get downstairs. They just really love Grandma's library.
Plus Grandma is always telling us about the cool programs they're doing. Like 1,000 books before kindergarten.
I signed the boys up in January, and last week we finally turned in the first chart of 100 books.
The each read (listened to me read) 100 books and colored in their chart and got these awesome library bags as a prize. We already had a million books checked out from our library, which cooperates with my mom's library and when the boys got their new bags, they couldn't figure out why we'd leave the library without filling them up with a million more books. The good news is that even though the libraries cooperate and allow you to check out from either one with either card, they don't tell on you for already having a million books already checked out.
Which is why we currently have TWO million library books at our house. Suckers. We really took them didn't we?
(heaven help me if I lose even one of them...)
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Farewell to the poop bucket
When Tommy was little we had these friends who had stinky neighbors. They were so concerned by the neighbors' foul odor that they labeled their outside garbage bins. (Because when you live in townhouses your garbage can is right next to your neighbors'.) Because they didn't want smelly neighbor people stinking up their garbage.
That's right. Stinking up their garbage.
You know how sometimes you are talking to someone and they mention an annoying habit and you realize that you've never ever ever been bothered by that particular habit? And slowly the realization hits you that you've never been bothered by it probably because you're the botherer? That's what happened.
At first we teased them, because seriously, whose garbage smells good? Then we realized that as the neighbors with babies, we are literally throwing away bags of crap on a weekly basis. And we felt a little bad, but the alternative was keeping the bags of crap in our house and that was way worse than being the neighbors with smelly garbage. So we kept throwing out our bags of crap, which is gross. And smelly.
This continued for 5.27 years.
But as of January 11th, we are no longer the smelly garbage neighbors!
Wait, yes we are. Because we still throw out rotten food and grass clippings and well...garbage. But we no longer put human waste in a bin in the middle of the road for the garbage man to pick up! We have graduated to a new kind of sophistication and the poop bucket has been banished to the garage with all the other useless stinky things we own.
Yay for Little John and his adorably under-ed bum!
That's right. Stinking up their garbage.
You know how sometimes you are talking to someone and they mention an annoying habit and you realize that you've never ever ever been bothered by that particular habit? And slowly the realization hits you that you've never been bothered by it probably because you're the botherer? That's what happened.
At first we teased them, because seriously, whose garbage smells good? Then we realized that as the neighbors with babies, we are literally throwing away bags of crap on a weekly basis. And we felt a little bad, but the alternative was keeping the bags of crap in our house and that was way worse than being the neighbors with smelly garbage. So we kept throwing out our bags of crap, which is gross. And smelly.
This continued for 5.27 years.
But as of January 11th, we are no longer the smelly garbage neighbors!
Wait, yes we are. Because we still throw out rotten food and grass clippings and well...garbage. But we no longer put human waste in a bin in the middle of the road for the garbage man to pick up! We have graduated to a new kind of sophistication and the poop bucket has been banished to the garage with all the other useless stinky things we own.
Yay for Little John and his adorably under-ed bum!
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