Mother's Day in all its Glory

This year mother's day was simply beautiful. 

Filled with BBQ, picnics, babies & grandmas.

Josh teases Johnny with a strawberry. Then lets him eat it. Against Dr.'s orders. [shrugs, whatever. it's cool.]

My mom and John Boy having a "bull fight".

Josh's Grandma B. John was distracted by Grandma Reilley. 

Not to mention good gifts. 

Tommy made this in nursery.

With this adorable poem. I may or may not have teared up.

My new running shoes! I'm in love.

 I'm glad to be a mom.

boys love bugs

When we found out Tommy was going to be a boy I was a little nervous. Because I know that I don't know anything about boys.

Plus I knew he'd pee on me. And who knows where else.


But I was also secretly relieved because as little as I know about boys I know even less about girls. Barbies? Kill me now.


The truth is that every kid is hard boys and girls. Right?

But I don't think a girl would have brought me a creepy beetle today while we were supposed to be coloring with sidewalk chalk.

And I don't think I would have screamed in her face and smacked her hand to rid it of the creepy beetle so close to my nose.

And that means she wouldn't have been traumatized for life thinking that both she and beetles are terrifying.

And maybe (but not likely) that would mean that Josh wouldn't consider it his most important mission in life to help our child play with bugs.

Of course, if I had girls instead of boys, they probably wouldn't allow their father to dress them because when dad is in charge babies look like this.

So I suppose it's all good that we have boys and all of those bug things did happen.

Mother's Day Honesty

I could write a post of 1,000 reasons I love being a mom. I could tell a million stories which melted my heart. I could brag about my extraordinary children and the exquisite joy I feel when I'm with them. And every word of it would be true.

I could also tell horror stories that make your toes curl. I could tell you how what I want more than anything else is a nap. Or a good night's sleep. Or a long shower. I could write about how there are moments (and days) when it sounds like a really great idea to bang my head against a wall. Because that would be less painful and more productive. And every word  of it would be true.

And that's the beauty of motherhood.

So instead I'm giving you 2 lists. Because I like lists and I like it when things are even.

Things I hate about being a mom:

1. Monotony. "Are you having a good Mother's Day?" a thousand people asked. "Sure" I answered with a shrug of the shoulders. "The kids woke up, wanted food and still needed to get dressed and ready, just like every other day."
2. Juicy. I used to hate lip kisses, but those boys who live here have swayed me and today I kissed a pair of cookie-chocolate-drooly lips. On purpose. I gross me out.
3. Army Guys. I hate them. They don't do anything, and according to Josh playing with them does not involve and kind of conversation or planning for future lunch dates. What kind of pointless toy is that? 

Things I love about being a mom:

1. Forgiving clients. Yesterday I totally lost it at Tommy. Totally. Lost. It. This morning he crawled into bed with me, gently pushed my nose (the power button on all humans in his world) and whispered (juicily) in my ear "a'morneeen mom. 'ake up!" Then (with a little prompting from Josh) told me Happy Mother's Day. The interaction was so sweet, even I almost forgot that I yelled at him.
2. Relentless Cheerleaders. Since we cheer when "John-B"* rolls over, we also cheer when mommy does it. Since we cheer when Tommy puts a toy away, or draws unrecognizable picture, or even thinks about peeing in the potty, we also cheer when mommy does any (or all!) of those things. Forget about a Triathalon.
3. Stories. I love them. I love that my boys love them. I love it when Tommy loves a book enough to have memorized it. I love it when he has never read a book but wants to show me EVERY thing on EVERY page anyway. I especially love it when both boys snuggle in with a huge stack of books to read on one side and a growing stack of books we've read on the other side. 

So yeah, that's the point. Being a mom is amazing. Having a mom is amazing. Knowing a mom is amazing. So here-here to mother's day. (says while raising a glass of ice water and chomping on a carrot because I suspect that will cancel out the chocolates, jelly beans and raspberry sticks I've been consuming...)

*Josh and I have started calling John "John Boy" (why? Nobody knows...it just came out. and stuck. Babies are sticky.) but it sounds really hard for Tommy to say, so it comes out "John-B" which I find equally adorable. 

One Time I Did A Triathalon

I'm quick to say "But just a sissy one" but if I'm being 100% completely honest, that wasn't sissy. And I'm 100% convinced that I'm hardcore.

Unless you did the longer one, in which case I fully recognize that mine was just for sissies. But secretly I'm proud of me anyway.


I participated in the Novice tri. It means that I swam 150 yards (meters?), biked 2.5 miles, then ran 1.5 miles.

Some of the people I was with did the Sprint distance. They swam 350 yards, biked 12 miles, then ran 3.2 miles.

Other people I was with did a relay Sprint. So one person swam, one person biked, and a different person ran.


The most stressful part of this triathalon for me was the transitions. Because while I'm OK with jumping in the pool and swimming until they say stop, I am NOT OK with jumping out of the pool and running in a swimsuit all drippy and gross to the transition area. I was fairly confident I would screw it all up (which I did) and worried an inordinate amount about how I would set up my transition area and what I was forgetting.

All my transition stuff. I finally decided on this stuff and it was good.

 As I've mentioned before, my signing up for this thing was pure peer pressure. I've been swimming with some people in my ward, and when Tracy started coming with us she pretty much immediately signed up for the tri. Then continued to remind me how cool it was. So I did too.

But this picture adequately illustrates the difference between Tracy & Me. She is cool and hardcore and tough and "gonna kill it!" and I am "....ner......" And not tough. And only sometimes cool. And rather than murder it, I simply survived.  

The race info sheet said that transition setup and body marking would be from 6 - 7:30. Body. Marking. The pictures in my head looked something like these.

 

But when I got there it was just a dude & a lady each wielding sharpies standing in the corner of the gym. I think they probably had special training not to make fun of my farmer's tan. 

They did all the hard-core tri people first. And because it was an indoor swim they staggered start time 8-10 seconds per person. 370 People starting in 8-10 second increments = 40 minutes of sitting around waiting for their people to finish starting before we started starting. Tracy & I sat in the bleachers and watched the sprint starters, there were some who were serious swimmers who knew exactly what they were doing and how long it would take them, and some who doggy paddled the whole way. It was a bit stressful to watch.

After the swim in the transition area I went to backtrack a bit and slipped turning my ankle. It wasn't SUPER bad, but it did hurt and by the time I finished the bike I was tired and hurting so I walked a good deal of the run.

Fortunately this photographer caught me while I was at least pretending to jog (and adjusting my earphones). I know I look like a dork, but I like this picture because I do not look like I'm dying (which I was).

The run was long and lonely, and my music wasn't loud enough. I rediscovered that only the embarrassment of asking someone else to stop, is motivating enough to keep me running the whole way.

One cool thing about triathalons is that they give you a medal just for existing at the end. You don't even have to be fast or awesome or ANYthing. They just give it to you because you aren't dead. Isn't that nice of them? Also does this medal make you think of the 80s? I didn't really live in the 80's (born in '85) so I can't really say that, but it's just so.... I don't know..... anybody else?

The Survivor Medal

Of course after the medal, I made Josh take roughly 9,000 pictures of me because there's no telling if I will ever do something this cool ever again.

I made Josh take an unreasonable number of pictures. And almost all of them look at least this dumb. 

But then Josh told me to take off my hat. So I made fun of him, and  his shutter finger was quicker than my "put it back on!" reflex. There is a good reason they tell you to wear a hat for triathalons. Swim cap + bike helmet + run DOES NOT = cute.

Hatless Amy Post Race

Josh made it there early enough to see me come in on the bike and head out for the run. I don't think there are words that can adequately express to me how encouraging it was to see my boys (all 3 of them) cheering me on and being proud of me. I'm a lucky girl.

Tommy and Mommy. He didn't want me to hold him because I was still wet (and cold), but he  did want to be held because I'm mom. It was a hard time. Poor boy.

On one hand I'm really ridiculously unreasonably proud of myself. 

On the other hand it was a bit of a letdown. The staggered start times mean that nobody finishes or starts together, and for most of the race I was on my own. That is a lonely way to go and for me the beauty of a race is the energy of EVERYBODY else playing. 

Still.....

They gave me a medal!

So.....

Big Shoes To Fill

Write your own meaningful line about the father/son relationship......

Brothers

Life without a brother is a little boring and a little sad.

But don't worry, all that can be changed pretty much instantly.

Handsomest boy in the West

This boy just gets handsomer and handsomer every dang day.

Boy Genius

There is a jar of treats on the shelf above the toilet in the boys' bathroom. Tommy knows (very well) that if he goes "potty in a toilet" he gets a treat.

Every night as he gets out of the bath he asks for a treat and we tell him that they are "only if you go potty in the toilet" and he goes "oooooh. potty a twailet?" and we giggle because we love it when he goes "ooooohhhhh".

The jar has started accumulating dust.

Today he barged in on me in his bathroom, he was pointing like a maniac at his treat jar.

"Mommy potty in a twailet! Mommy a tweeet! Tommy a tweet too! Mommy share!"

His brain was going a million miles a minute because he had clearly discovered a loophole and his mouth really couldn't keep up.

Death of a Cool Mom

I have an end table sitting to the side of my desk so Tommy can sit on top of it and color on the empty end of my desk. It's sweet really.

Which is why it got boring after about 3 minutes.

Which is why he started crawling under the table to hang out.

Which naturally led to him taking crayons under there.

I should probably preface this story by telling you how much Josh hates coloring. Specifically 2 year olds coloring. He hates crayons, markers and pencils.
He hates pictures.
He hates art.
He hates creativity and brain development.

OK I might be exaggerating. But he has honestly told me more than once that he thinks we should be a crayon-free house. And he wasn't kidding.


So when Tommy goes crawling around the house with crayons I get nervous. Because if Josh were going to go all crazy and leave me, it would be over crayons on the wall.

But I'm torn because I really REALLY wanna be a cool mom. And cool moms let their kids make messes. I saw it on the internet so I know it's true. Thank you Pinterest.

So I taped a page (or 2) of the coloring book on the under side of the table so he could go under there and color legally. Keeping daddy living in our house and mommy being cool. Which is, of course, the ultimate goal.

All of the real moms (cool and still married alike) out there know the end of this story because it is the exact reason that NOBODY lets their kid color on the furniture. Even if it is covered in paper.

The High Dive (and other awesome peer pressure)

So remember how I'm a hard core swimmer?

It's awesome to be a hardcore swimmer because you get to go to the pool with your friends. And suddenly you get talked in to doing things you wouldn't otherwise do.

Like going down the waterslide with 3 other grown women and no children.
Or swimming "just a couple more laps so we're on an even number".
Or buying a swim cap.
Or jumping off the high dive for the first time in my life (at 27 years old.....terrifying! and fun)

But the biggest baddest coolest peer pressure thing is that I signed up to do a triathalon. It's just the novice (meaning the distances are significantly shorter) but I'm gonna drag every ounce of this body through the pool, on the bike, and run it across the finish line.

It didn't occur to me to be nervous about it until yesterday. And suddenly I'm realizing that I might wish I was dead by the time I finish. I have to get in and out of the pool, and show up early for "body marking". I have to work out all of the logistics (get the bike up there, set up my transition area, get dressed when I'm all drippy from the swim...) and make sure my equipment is ready. I am going to be "racing" along with other people who are significantly faster than I am. I'm terrified. To my very core.

I think having totally awesome friends is good for me.

So I Heard He Got Pinned

When Josh told me he had a "Pinning Ceremony" as a part of graduation, I immediately starting singing this song and haven't stopped since.

Fortunately Pinning was yesterday and I can now move on with my life.

Josh's sister was kind enough to watch out boys so I didn't have to wrestle them through the ceremony.

So we dropped off the boys and headed to the school for the happiest school-day EVER. We were early enough to sit in the car for a little while before the ceremony. I don't remember the last time we just sat in the car talking - definitely a pre-kid thing. Maybe even a pre-marriage thing....except we weren't kissing, we were talking. Maybe we've never done that? Hmmm....

There ceremony was a lot like a graduation ceremony. A dark crowded hot room filled with people who were still a little sleep-deprived and hung over from finals week.

And a lot of people told a lot of jokes about how they were nervous or excited or something - only they used the technical diagnosis showing off their new nursing knowledge. It was wildly funny the first few times, but I felt bad for the last speaker because by the time it was her turn the jokes were a bit stale. 

After a bunch of talks and a bunch of inside jokes that not even Josh got, they read the names and gave them their stuff. 

The ceremony was lovely and nice and boring and I was even more grateful for my ceremony-hating penny-pinching husband who opted not to walk in a cap and gown in an even longer ceremony earlier in the week.

Of course when you go to a pinning ceremony you expect to get a pin, but Josh didn't want to pay for a pin he didn't care about, so instead of a fancy-pants cool-kid pin, he got this.

I can't count the dollars this man has spent on his education. But it's all worth it now that he got this awesome penny pin. 

In real life I'm terribly proud of Josh. These two years have been tough in more ways than I can count. And he has somehow managed to do it all. Plus all the things he did in preparation for this program and while he was waiting for it to begin.

The "it's over!" aspect hasn't really set in yet since he still has to pass the NCLEX which is the biggest baddest horriblest test of his education so far. Which means he's still spending all of his time studying and worrying. But at least clinic and class and careplans are over. That's a HUGE step int he right direction.

Whapah

I don't know which of these boys loves the other more. 

But I do know they share the same ridiculously uncontrolled giggle.

Can you hear it?

A Snooze

It's not often, but when I get to snuggle this child to sleep, I document it.

Busy Bag Swap

One thing I love about living in my neighborhood is my totally awesome neighbors. And Tommy's super cool friends. 

Our neighborhood probably sets the record for most babies born in a short period of time ever in the history of the universe.

The year Tommy was born he was one of 11 or 12 within a month. His friends with the biggest age difference were born just 2 or 3 months away from him.

So when I put it out on facebook that I wanted to do a "busy bag swap" I immediately had 14 other women who wanted to do it too.

We each picked a Busy Bag idea and made 14 of them. Then today we did all the swapping so we'd have 14 things.

Here's what we wound up with.

Pipe Cleaners & Pony Beads
Make patterns, match colors, bend twist and lace, whatever.

Counting Number Cards
Someone with cute handwriting wrote and drew circles on these number cards. Tommy's into colors right now, so that was his goal with every game. 

Color Shade Matching with paint Samples
Clothes Pins with paint sample pieces make for a nice challenge for  Tommy. 

Memory
Glued simple pictures onto foam. Tommy would play this all day long. 

Color Sorting
1 blue and 2 red, or all the red in one cup, or mix em all up. Tommy is definitely a fan of color sorting.

  

Colored Noodles
Dye noodles, the possibilities are endless. Sort by color, sort by shape, thread them on a string with a washer on one end and a piece of pipe cleaner on the other end.

Puzzles
Laminated pieces that fit on the background picture.  Not a  great picture to demonstrate what it is....

Felt Board
there are face pieces, and house pieces and they stick because they're felt.

  

Push the Ball Through the Hole
There is also a spoon to put them in without the lid, and color matching on the map of the world. But Tommy was fascinated with putting the things in the holes and mostly focused on that.

Number Wheel
If Tommy learns nothing but how to open a clothes pin from this, it will be worth it.  He just wanted to  put these on and take them off again all day long.

Felt Pizza
"One pineapple for Mommy. One for Tommy. No olives for mommy!" This boy knows (and loves) his mother.

Lacing Cards
Punch holes in a foam shape and add a shoelace.  Ta-da!

Marble Maze
You just have a marble sewn inside and push it around. This pattern  looks almost boring it's so easy, but  it's surprisingly challenging for my kid anyway....

Popsicle Stick Puzzles
I was surprised at how quickly Tommy caught on to this one.

And just liek that Tommy has a buncha new games to play and he loves EVERY single one of them. Best swap party ever.

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.

Johnny: 6 Months

What should you know about John?

He's adorable.

Lovely in fact.

He's sweet.

And when my baby giggles, satan dies a little inside because he can't stand the heavenly sound.

He's curious. He doesn't like to be left out of anything going on, so I carry him all the live long day. He does not approve of the exersaucer for more than 5 minutes because he knows he's missing SOMEthing.

He did not inherit his mother's personal space issues like his older brother did. As shown.

Hey man! Whatcha lookin at?

Don't touch Johnny! Toucha shoulder!!!!

He's as bald as a cue ball. Yes? Somebody in the family needs to have less hair than Grandpa....

He eats pretty much anything we put in his mouth. And he wants to do that every day. All day. 

He sleeps beautifully through the night, but still fights his naps often. Probably in part because his mother expects him to nap in less-than-ideal conditions. 

He rolls and rolls and rolls and scoots around and sits up (through a whole photo shoot!) but does not crawl. He really likes to be on a his tummy, and he likes to move, so maybe he'll be mobile soon. Dang! I just realized we're gonna have to put the gate up at the stairs again....

He loves to read books, built towers, and watch anything his big brother is doing. He also likes to suck on anything he can get his hands on, which is a long and slightly embarrassing list. 

I love him for a million reasons - one is that he made my little man a big (and sweet!) brother. And while "Tommy" is awesome, "Tommy as a big brother" is awesome-ER!

Next week we'll have some stats on this one. I'm betting he'll be light and long. We'll see.

Prayer = Success

My resolution for April was to spend 10 minutes in prayer daily.

It's sortof embarrassing to tell you how hard that was for me, but it was hard. And totally amazing.

I did it every day, some days waking up at 5am and other days starting my 10 minutes with my eyes half shut at 11:49pm. I set a timer, and knelt by my bed (most often, other times I sat on my couch or even on my bath mat) and prayed.

I learned that I need longer than the 30 seconds I usually give myself to go through my list of people I love who need my prayers. And when I'm finally through my list (I genuinely care about a lot of people!) I still have things I worry about. Things I need help with. When I feel like I have a long time they all go in my prayers - not just the noisiest ones. I am more grateful and concerned about doing the right thing. I work harder on my calling and I think of more kind things to do.

As I wrap up this month of prayer I feel that inspiration comes easier and that my temper is slower. In general I am more satisfied with life and the way I am living. Because I'm living differently or because I'm feeling more loved? I don't know....

I quickly began to crave this time in my day. But after 3 weeks I had a hard time committing to it every night and was glad the obligation would be over soon. I wanted to spend a longer time more meaningfully in prayer - but I didn't want to set a timer anymore. So I don't think this will be a permanent part of my daily routine, but I do hope that I will spend at least 10 minutes praying on a regular basis, instead of so rarely that I don't even know if it's possible.

The best part of this resolution was feeling loved by my Heavenly Father. I felt closer to him than I have in a long time, and this came at a really good time for me.

I needed that.

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