Snowball the First

In fall of 2005 Josh and I started dating. But more importantly we started the epic battle of "who threw it first: the first snowball of the year" he wins WAY more often than I do. Mostly because he has better aim and the ability to dodge when we're both playing and he makes me feel guilty when I sneak attack him in bed. But when I win? It is with grace and beauty and exceptional planning and sneakiness. 

And since I know you're Team Amy (or you're a traitor!) I know you'll be thrilled to know that even in my "too pregnant and sick to cook or clean or shop or stay our of the ER" I THREW IT FIRST THIS YEAR!!! In my bathrobe. While Josh sat on the sofa staring out the window at the beauty of freshly fallen snow - like a chump. I threw the most perfectly packed snowball across the house up the stairs and pegged him right in the chest.

Then I threw my hands up in the air and did a little victory dance (waddle) and whisper-shouted "2015 is MINE baby!" and Josh laughed the "I can't believe I'm married to the coolest person on the planet" laugh and we all lived happily ever after. (And the effort of it all didn't even send me into labor.) 

Last year I couldn't find the score and was too embarrassed to look hard for it. I'm pretty sure that this year, on the 10th anniversary of the Greatest Snowball Fight Ever, the score is 

Amy: 4 

Josh: 7. 

(Unless I get double points for the first ever EVER from 2005. Or triple points for "pregnant while balling". Both of which I think are totally legit bonus points. And would make it a tie this year.) 

Tom Hanks doesn’t know anything….

In general I think I’m a pretty good mom. I have consciously chosen some of the most important things I want my kids to know and I focus clearly on doing all I can to make sure that those are things they come away with. Primarily I want my kids to know that I love them. All the time. No matter what. More than anything. Because I firmly believe that a child filled with love can do anything else they want. So I tell them about a million times a day. And sometimes when I say it to Tommy he rolls his eyes and says “I KNOOOOOW mom.” And I say “oh good! I want you to KNOOOOOW.” And I ask him how come he knows. And he uses his most exasperated voice to say “You tell me EverySingleDay. Mom.”  And I sit back satisfied that I’m teaching him The Most Important Thing everysingleday.

But there are other things I want him to learn too. We value lots of other things in our home. Truth telling, teamwork, service, cleaning up after yourself, kindness, hard work, trying again, forgiveness, but most importantly love.

So when we signed Tommy up for baseball I had big dreams of him learning about doing hard things, stick-to-it-iveness, teamwork, winning and losing, practice, and maybe even how to hit a baseball – though that never climbed higher than 29^th on the list. He didn’t really like it, but he got a cool hat and a “just for baseball” shirt. So he’d go out and play anyway. Then he’d come back exhausted and overheated swearing that his legs would fall off from “toooooo much running!”

During last week’s game he got out after hitting the ball and his little soul was positively crushed. We talked a lot about how even the really good players sometimes get out, it’s just part of the game, not giving up, practicing makes us better, and The Most Important Thing. After sitting out the rest of the game, Tommy was glad to play with dad in our own front yard when we got home, and I thought we were going to have a great baseball experience. Because Josh and I taught him ALL the things! Boom! Character traits acquired! Next?

But this week Tommy didn’t want to play when we got to the game. He hates baseball and he hates me and he's scared of getting hurt or getting out or or or or... and he was too shy to tell any of the million grownups who asked him if he was going to play that he didn’t want to. I reminded him of all the things we knew. He reminded me that he already knew that. He had given me the "right" answers on the way there, “If I get out, I’ll just keep thinkin’ about the next time. And the more I play the more I get way better.” Then he reminded me that he hates baseball. I told him that the people who play baseball games get treats at the end. Every time the team moved from outfield to get ready to bat I asked if he felt ready to play yet. He never ever did. 8 chances he had to join his team and he firmly said no 8 times. Sometimes with tears in his eyes snuggling into my lap looking for love. Sometimes while throwing his shoes. Sometimes while running away. With every inning the warm wash of shame closed in a little tighter on me and I was a total wreck.

It took 2 or 3 innings for me to remember The Most Important Thing. I told Tommy I was afraid that he might have forgotten The Most Important Thing too so I whispered it in his ear I love you more than anything in the whole wide world. And way WAY more than baseball. He looked up at me from my lap and told me that he hated me. I reminded him about treats. He didn’t care. He hated baseball. When we left – defeated – not even one second of participation, I cried. Because there’s totally crying in baseball, and Tom Hanks doesn’t know anything about 5 year olds or coach pitch or rec ball. Nothing at all. Lousy good-for-nothing celebrity spreading lies. Tom Hanks is now a cuss word at my house. There is crying in baseball. And definitely crying on the sidelines of baseball.

When we came home Tommy finished his school work, then went out to play with his friends. Because Hunter Blesshisheart came and knocked on the door to see if Tommy wanted to play. Hunter and his brother are on Tommy’s team. And in all of their childlike goodness they didn’t care at all if Tommy played or sat on the side lines. They just wanted their friend to come and play when we got home. So they invited him. And yes he did want to play. So he went outside and played with his friends on a lovely summer night. They drew with sidewalk chalk and rode bikes and played with squirt guns and ran around and played on the playground and acted like kids. They were kind and loving and welcoming and fun.  And nobody cared one bit about baseball. Thank goodness for good friends. Because I swear it healed my heart a little to see him outside playing with his friends.

I wish I was more like Hunter Blesshisheart. I wish I could go to someone who bailed on my team with my eyes wide open, full of love and hopeful that they’ll join me now. Or anytime really. 

I wish I was more like Tommy, leaving the hour of shame on the field and ready to pick up and face the shame people 10 minutes later. 

But at least I remembered The Most Important Thing. 

Baseball

About 6 weeks ago Josh and I were feeling ambitious and we wanted to sign Tommy up for SOMEthing (note to future self: Don’t sign up for things. You’re not ambitious. If you start to feel like you're ambitious, take a deep breath, and a long nap. Before long that feeling will pass.)

We talked about some ideas, and looked at our options (i.e. what had we not already missed the signups for) and decided that it would be adorable and fun and good for Tommy to try Coach Pitch - which some of the neighbors were also planning to play. So yay!

So Josh took the boys to the rec center to sign them up, and he took them to the sports store and blew a bunch of money on baseball junk. Then I came home and we played baseball out in the front yard one time. And then we took naps. (Because I’m currently preoccupied with naps.) Josh was all kinds of excited about playing baseball with his boys, and doing a dad thing. 

Then we got Tommy’s game schedule. Games are on Thursday, while Josh is at work.

Then we got Tommy’s practice schedule. Practice is on Wednesday, while Josh is at work.

So that’s why I’ll be relocating my naptime to the local park for the next 8 weeks. And why you’ll be able to hear Tommy shouting “NO!!!! I don’t WANT to!!!” every Wednesday afternoon and Thursday evening. Because Tommy is smarter than me and he almost never forgets that he doesn't like to do things. Wish me luck! And wish him luck! And pray for our baseball hating souls.

Parenting Tip: Don’t do things. Don’t sign up to do things. Even if you think it’s a good idea and it sounds fun. It won’t be. Things aren’t fun. Napping is fun. Only napping is fun. And Arby’s. Arby's is also fun.

Which is, of course, an announcement that I’m pregnant.

Snowball Score

I hardly want to tell this story because now it's just embarrassing.

I had been planning the trip up the canyon for weeks. And in my early e-mails to Aundrea I even mentioned specifically how I would use this trip to even the score for the epic first snowball of the season battle.

I thought about it all morning.

I thought about if I should get the kids out of the car first so I could use them as sheilds, or if I should play offensive and just go for the kill as soon as the car slowed to an almost stop. I was glad he was driving because obviously that would give me the advantage. And as we drove up the canyon I made sure to discuss the beautiful snow just the right amount. Cooly and nonchallantly so he wouldn't know I was avoiding it, but also wouldn't have his attention drawn to it so much that he remembered. Because clearly I was the only one who could remember something like this. 

So you see, this is a cautionary tale of pride.

Because sometime after entering the parking lot and Josh stopping the car I totally forgot about the snow, the snowballs, the contest, the strategy, the planning and all of the other things.

And that's why I was still sitting the car, like a sucker, seat belted and everything when he pegged me with the first snowball of the year.

But the worst part is, when I got him back (within 2 minutes, because of my exceptional speed and excessive skill) John was standing right under him and the breakaway snow from my perfectly formed ball showered John all the way down and he cried and now he hates me.

I think Josh won this year. Again. I wish I could post the score (no I don't) but I can't seem to find last year's post, which I probably skipped, because now this is just plain embarrassing.

The Things I Do For My Kids: A morning at the dentist

Before we moved Josh and I saw his Aunt for dental cleanings. So when Tommy finally had teeth, he just came with us to the dentist and Aunt Lisa smiled at him and he opened his mouth to have his teeth counted and we called that a visit.

But then (a year ago) we moved here and didn't want to drive to Salt Lake for a dentist, so we have been "going to get a new dentist" for 13 months.

Finally I made an appointment for both boys and worried about how well they'd do all week before we went.

But as it turns out, pediatric dentists are awesome. And Tommy is brave. And John likes enormous stuffed animals.

It all went surprisingly well. But you know that feeling when you leave the dentist like you're going to throw up? Now Tommy knows it too.

That's why if you drove past our dentist's office on Monday morning around 10, you saw me crouched down  (no coat, yes flip flops, yes 12 degrees outside) by Tommy clearing a space in the snow on the grass outside with my bare hands . Because he really didn't want to barf on the snow.

Poor boy.

Memories: Primary Program

As a child, the Primary Program was a big deal to me. A chance to show off and be praised.

I'd memorize my part no matter how long it was and be unreasonably proud when people were (properly) impressed by my mad skills.

One year I did that embarrassing thing where you talk too loud into a mic and everybody laughs, which makes you feel stupid, so then you're all stupid and jittery. At 9 years old I was properly embarrassed to speak in public.

But mostly I just remember my parents being proud of me when I was done. Such a lovely feeling. I'm sure I milked it for all it was worth. And maybe a little more.

***************************************************
The week they handed out parts for the primary program we were on vacation in St. George. So the next week when Tommy got his part, I was worried a week wasn't long enough to learn it.

When you think of others before yourself, you make a forever family.

But then I remembered how Tommy has a freaky awesome memory and it would be easy.

We said it together a few times on Sunday afternoon and by Monday he had it down. But he got bored of saying it right and thought it would be better if it had potty words in it.

When you think of tooting before your toot, you make a forever bum toilet. 

Aww young humor.

So we made up a song so he'd stop with the potty words. Which miraculously worked. Most of the time. I was still a little concerned that he'd bust out the toilet line while on the stand, but I think he was just the right amount of terrified.

Grandma Fugal came and sat with me and Little John during the program which makes this officially the easiest sacrament meeting I have attended in 4 years.

The put the sunbeams on the ground level just in front of the rostrum, which I'm sure was a wise choice given the ants which clearly occupied their pants. But I was bummed not to be able to see Tommy most of the time. His class of sunbeams has like 15 little boys in it. And as far as I know zero girls. They have 4 teachers, 2 sets of 2 which alternate teaching weeks. And all 4 teachers were there to help with the program.
One stood at the microphone feeding them lines and boosting them up.
One stood on the left side of the stand to wave them up in a line.
One stood on the right side of the stand to wave them from the mic back down to their seats.
And one stayed at their seats to welcome them and get them to fold their arms again.

When it was Tommy's turn, he did great. No toilet. No toots. No potty jokes. And especially no shouting. Just his "mediumest" voice saying the assigned words. I've never been so relieved in my life. Except that one time when after he didn't exist in the ultrasound we made a deal and he properly posed for the camera and we knew he was a real baby with a beating heart in there.

I was so proud, it was all I could do to stay in my seat and not run over to him to tell him how proud I was of him for being so brave. Which I knew I'd do immediately after the meeting. But then those 4 awesome sunbeam teachers took him straight to class and I didn't even get to see him for 2 more hours!

Anyway, the point is that Tommy is amazing. And brave. And kind and smart and important. And I love him. Because really, what's not to love?

Babysitters

Last week I found and hired a babysitter for the first time in my life.

Because my sister watches the boys when I work, and my mom fills in sometimes when Katy isn't available, I pretty much always feel tapped out when it comes to babysitters.

I have a few mom friends in the ward that I could call in a pinch, but in the evening at bedtime? I decided to bite the bullet and hire a real live babysitter.

I picked up Heidi and she was sweet and kind and awesome. The boys liked her and Josh said that everything was great when he got home. She told me she really likes babysitting (but does that mean it's true?) and she was excited I called.

But I gotta know - how much do you pay a babysitter in 2013? She didn't know (I wouldn't have given a price at 15 years old either) and just said "whatever people pay". So I'm curious - what's normal? I have a 3 year old and a 1 year old. Who never do anything wrong. (Except when Tommy pooped on the bathroom scale because it was the middle of the night and he was still half asleep and he thought he just had to pee - so he was standing. Also except when Little John climbs into the full-of-water bathtub fully clothed. Also except when they both want the same toy.... Whatever, they're perfect and wonderful and they both love Blue's Clues. Babysitter's dream.)

I'm calling the whole thing wildly successful - and hoping we get to do it again for something more fun than just an hour and a half between when my meeting starts and Josh get home from work.

Currently accepting really great ideas. Except sky diving. That will not be considered on account of I'm a chicken.

So You Wanna Pay A Babysitter

It's been a long time since I babysat.

Long enough that I don't remember what I was paid - and I certainly don't think it's relevant anymore.

Tommy is three-and-a-half years old and we've never paid a babysitter. Is this because we're cheapskates? Probably. But also because we have a lot of family. And it never occurred to us that they might like to be compensated for watching the boys.

But this week we had a real live babysitter.

So we paid her at the end of the night.

And as I'm hugging my boys hello and having them gather their shoes and things, I look up and there's Josh pulling money out of his wallet to hand to a responsible young lady and I realize.....

We're old.

Like hiring babysitters old.

Maybe next time we'll even be old enough to arrange for the babysitter ourselves instead of mooching off our friends.

Spontaneous

By nature spontaneous is not a word anyone would ever us to describe me.

That's because I'm tightly wound.
And high maintenance.
And paranoid.
And I like to be prepared.

But some days it sounds like fun to be someone other than me. So I like to fake like it's fun to do things spur of the moment regardless of other responsibilities.

So on Wednesday when Josh said he needed to run a resume somewhere, and I said I needed to run to the grocery store, we decided we'd just all go everywhere together. We like to pretend these things are fun even though they're not.

But there we were on 800 N in Orem and the canyon called to us (or we missed our turn...whatever) and sucked us in.

So we thought we'd head to Bridal Veil Falls. But the trail was blocked off - because get this...SNOW!!!!!

Despite the giant sign warning us of avalanches and rock slides and imminent death, we figured we'd run around the park area.

First order of business was to go down to the water.

But it was in the shade, and by the water, and we were terribly unprepared (lousy good for nothing spontaneity) so we didn't last long there before we headed for the beautiful open field and made foot prints.

It occurs to me now that these were probably John's first steps outside. It was pretty slick (something about snow and ice.....) but he did take a few steps on his own. 

Josh started playing run-around-and-chase-each-other-with-no-real-goal-in-mind with the boys because it's their current favorite game as taught to them by their Uncle Caleb. Meanwhile I played stand-there-and-watch-my-boys-be-crazy-because-I'm-cool-with-being-spontaneous. 

When they ran into a giant rock I stopped being cool. Snapped a quick picture then demanded that Josh get them down from there because I'm afraid of heights.

After a brief lesson in tree peeing (spontaneous trips do not allow for potties!) we headed back for the van. Josh saw no problem with walking right past the closed gates with the giant sign telling them not to. He rarely has problems disobeying inanimate objects. 

My (2nd) favorite part of the trip was when I got to say "I told you so!" to Josh because our van was stuck in the snow. I told him it looked like a scary place to park and he laughed at me and told me to chill out. Which I did. Then I sat in the van while he tried to dig us out until some dudes came and helped me push us out.

My 1st favorite part of the day out was when we decided on our way home to head just down the road a little more and go get donuts at Krispie Kreme.

John didn't want to wear his hat - so Josh picked up the slack.

yes, we got a dozen. And we each ate a bite of each kind and polished them off the next day.

Turns out donuts, snow days, and mountains can turn an otherwise dull day into a party all the time.

So, in case you were wondering, that's why people are spontaneous.

Because it's fun.

Crawling

When I wrote about John at 7 months I knew it wouldn't belong before he started off on his own, but I thought I'd have longer than 12 hours. 

But that's about how long it was before Josh texted me to let me know that John got on his knees and did some crawling.

And just like that my world is over.

Summer + Toddler =

Summertime with that 2 year old of mine is mostly a beautiful thing.

We explore sidewalk cracks and go for long (in time, not distance) walks through the swamp. We play at the park and soak in the sun. We blow bubbles and color "right on the ground!!!". It's all very magical.

Until someone gets hurt.

Poor boy fell one day and got a tiny bit of road rash. Then he fell again the next day and opened it up like this. Then it started to scab - and he fell again at church. It's just now starting to heal, but that itches and he likes to show me at least 10 times a day.

I gave him some "medicine" (a fruit snack) and sprayed some magic on it (water) and gave him a cool washcloth. But oddly enough it still hurt. I hate it that he's old enough to be real-hurt.

Rolling

It's been about a week now. And Johnny just won't stop rolling.

I put him down, and turn to walk out of the room, and he's already flopped over on his tummy whining.

With Tommy we waited and waited and watched for this milestone. We cheered him on and encouraged him. We did a happy dance (and a blog post) as soon as he did it.

Sometime last week I set John down and went downstairs to answer the door. Josh was putting away laundry in the boys' room. I came back upstairs to find John on his tummy.

"Babe? Did you roll John over?" I called out to Josh from the top of the stairs.
"nope. I'm in here." he answered
"I think he's finally rolling for real now."
"dangit."

I'd been watching him thinking he must be close for a couple of weeks, but given his rare opportunities to simply lay on the floor I figured we'd be waiting for a while.

We had a tiny "baby is a genius!" party, and Tommy got down on the floor to join in the roll-fest. My two (littlest) boys rolled around on the floor for nearly 7 minutes, completely entertained. Meanwhile I got dinner ready and listened to the giggles without looking.

Listen, we love John. But baby #2 is a whole different game from Baby #1.

John Eats

Now that John's all old and junk, we thought we'd try to feed him. 

And he tried to hug it, like this.

And then he showed us how much he liked it. THISSSSS much!

OK that's not true. He sortof gagged on it. 

Then barfed. 

Then somebody overreacted and it startled him. And that's why he looks like he's trying to take off. 

This is a much more accurate representation.

I Bought A Hat

On the third straight day of undone hair, I caved and bought a hat.

This is a lifetime first for me.

Once when Josh and I were dating I wore a beanie to the grocery store. He inadvertently told me that I look like a man when I wear a hat. In his defense I was probably wearing sweat pants and a hoodie, I'm fairly certain my hair was pulled back and there was little to signify that I was a woman.

I've avoided hats like the plague since then.

But I figured if my sisters can pull off hats, I can too.

Verdict's still out on the man-look....but that hasn't stopped me from wearing my new hat. 

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.

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.)

Bowling

Over the weekend we decided it was high time we went out to do something fun. And Josh had a slow afternoon at work, so we "hurried to beat the crowd" and 1.5 hours later we were exactly 10 minutes from our house at the bowling alley!

Tommy thought it was awesome. He pushed the ball down the thing and excitedly shouted "Yes!!!!" as soon as he was done every time.

We shared a seating area with one of the office people from Dr. Man's office while we were there, and she was kind enough to take a picture of "all" of us. I'm only now realizing that John (who slept in the carseat the entire time) was over by our seats making this not exactly a picture of "all" of us. Bad mom!

Tommy's shoes were at least 3 sizes too big, but he proudly wore them anyway. Cutest thing I've ever seen.

Tommy was surprisingly good at pushing the hot pink ball down the ramp.

So good that he nearly beat me! 

Tommy loved it, Daddy loved it, Mommy loved it, Little John napped through it, so we're calling it a smashing success!

Bowling is definitely a family outing we'll do again soon.

First Bath

When Tommy's cord-stump finally fell off (10 days. It was the longest 10 days of my life.) We waited nearly an hour before giving him his first bath.

Things like baths are so exciting when there are 2 adults with 2 available arms each and just one sleepy baby to care for.

Johnny's cord finally fell off a few days ago.

Wait, I just checked, it was a week and a half ago (after jut a week. Fastest week of my life.) and that is the difference between the first and second child.

Anyway, a few days later we gave him a bath, and once dad left him alone and just let him sit there he relaxed and took a little nap.

It was lovely. And I was jealous. So. So. Jealous.

an eventful day

This morning I shared my concern about Little John's lack of poop with my mom. (2 days with no poop?!) She was equally concerned. Which is why we both nearly did backflips when he pooped this morning. Then we giggled like school girls when Josh started changing his diaper and he pooped again. And again.

The bonus pooping led to another sponge bath for Little John. Which bath is clearly the reason his cord stump fell off a few hours later - now he needed another bath.Thanks Murph.  The real kind this time just because now we can. I hate hate hate the stump and was extraordinarily relieved.

The feeling of relief must have motivated Tommy to learn to open doors and come out of his room a handful of times before falling asleep tonight. A mom of two boys is only allowed to feel relief for a few minutes you know. And a mom whose boy has just discovered the ability to escape from any room feels decidedly un-relieved.

snowball battle

Cheap shot.

That's how the annual First Snowball of the Year Battle ended this year.

We're counting it only because, as we determined last year, it's impossible for me to win without the benefit of a cheap shot.

Remember how I just had a baby and my sense of modesty is long long gone?

Well, there I was using the restroom, which is now a 10 minute process, when Josh barged back into the house after rushing out the door to his racquetball class clearly having forgotten something important.

Something important = literally catching me with my pants down and throwing a snowball at me. TMI? Sorry.

In his defense, he didn't do it 4 days ago when it really was the first snow of the year and I wasn't even 24 hours into my maternity leave. Probably because he was scared of all the nurses.....but maybe because he didn't wanna hear about the Cheapest of all Shots for the rest of his life.

2011 score:
Josh: 4 Amy: 3