Besties

Stephanie, my friend who took this picture, told them to give each other a "super hug". Thus the captured moment above. After she took it Anabelle yelled, "SUPER KISS!!" and laid one on Clark.

Some recent photos of A-belle and one of her besties. She refers to everyone as, "My friend _______________" so clearly it would not be reasonable to have a picture of all of her friends. Especially when most of them work at Publix or walk at the same park as us. And a vast majority of them are over 40. The other day we were driving and Anabelle asked me if she could go over to her friend Geneille's house and play. Geneille is in her 70's. And yesterday she introduced herself to a woman walking and told her she wished she would come over and eat lunch at our house. When she made that invite she obviously didn't realize that we were having pretzels and chick peas for lunch.

She can be found standing in our living room with her face in the blinds watching teenage thugs walk by using profanity and beg to go out and play with them. Don't worry, I usually say no. The phrase, "she never met a stranger" could not be any more fitting. And it gets worse if a person happens to have a dog with them. Sometimes we look around and find that she has wandered off and see that she has approached someone saying, "do you mind if I pet your puppy? what's his name? HOW CUTE IS HE!! Oh! He's a cutie little theen!!"

It's been convenient that she has NEVER once cried or protested when we've left her with anyone for any amount of time. That does bite us on the flip side when it's time to leave somewhere. We dread having to get her. This week when I went to get her from Nursery was the first time she has ever ran to me and yelled my name, happy to see me. An indescribable feeling of joy filled my soul. I hope when I'm old she thinks of me as one of her besties too. Especially considering the fact that her standards are so low. I also hope she elevates those standards at some point. And may she ease up on the kissing a bit. Sheesh. She got that from her Dad.

PeOpLe ArE pEOpLe No MaTtEr HoW sMaLl

"We must be so careful in speaking to a child. What we say or don't say, how we say it and when is so very, very important in shaping a child's view of herself. But it is even more important in shaping that child's faith in us and their faith in God. Be constructive in your comments to a child- always."
-Jeffrey R. Holland-

The J shaped pancake

Something that's been on my mind lately is my growing awareness of the fact that I am largely unaware. Let me explain.

Recently at girls camp I was one morning infuriated with someone. I gave my classic, "what in the world" face (menacing eyes, hands thrown up in the air, for those not fortunate enough to have received this look from me...it is after Anabelle has received this look that she will say, "am I so busted Mom?"). A dear friend was standing close by cooking breakfast for the camp while I gave this look to another friend. I never said anything to dear friend. I left the room and went about my activities. A few minutes later I got the above pictured pancake from her. She put it on my plate and walked away. I don't think any words were spoken between us. But by doing this, she said everything. It changed my day. It changed me, if ever so slightly.

That experience has brought to memory other recent similar stories. Small acts that have meant everything. Like the week Braden first lost his job and Bethany and Brooks came over for dinner and she brought me a small pot of bright pink flowers. That 5 dollar pot of flowers brought me immense cheer for the next two weeks. It completely lifted me every time I walked by them. Or a few weeks after that when I was living in the hospital with Lila, Lindsey brought me a pair of pink, fuzzy, polk a dot socks because my feet were always cold there. I have a vivid memory of standing outside the NICU door at 3 am RAGGED in every sense of the word. I was waiting for them to open the door as it always took a few minutes. I looked down at my feet and noticed my new socks and in that moment felt renewed strength. My friend couldn't do anything about Lila but she cared that my feet were cold and she did what she could to ease my burden. I hope I take moments of pauses and waiting and notice the big picture, notice my socks.

Another thing that comes to mind is a memory from last year when I went home to my parents house. I was sitting in the back of Relief Society. I watched my seminary teacher who was sitting with several of her many many family members in that ward, get up and leave them and quietly go sit with a new sister who was sitting alone. She left her comfort and literally put her arm around someone feeling vulnerable. In that moment she added authenticity to what she preached to me every morning from the scriptures.

Most of the things that came to mind are from times when I was in distress. I feel sad to realize that it is in these times that I notice more readily the ways in which I am being cared for, protected, and watched after in very tender ways. I have to assume that I am always being cared for in these ways, but that I hardly take notice unless I am compelled to by humbling circumstances.

I used to work at a treatment center for adolescent girls. In the midst of their lives being turned upside down with struggle, the advice from one particular therapist was often, "Just Be". I think of that from time to time. I am usually so caught up in coming, going, doing, that I don't sit still long enough to notice or recognize where He is in all of it.

It has been said that God is in the details, and I am finding that to be true more and more all the time. Yes, He is in the details. Indeed, He is in our pancakes.

Awww shucks

Lila had two tests done at Children's yesterday as a follow up to her UTI in May. After they gave her antibiotics I didn't feel that they were working so they gave her a big strong shot of another kind. But she hasn't been herself since then- yelling and throwing her body about in a crazy violent way. But there were no other symptoms. I kept waiting for a fever to indicate another infection. Monday I decided I had to take her to the pediatrician because her behavior was so unlike her. They checked her ears, teeth, and even cathed her and checked her urine. Everything was fine. Dr. Dennis said she was just being grumpy. That didn't make me happy. Well yesterday she had a renal ultrasound and a VCUG (Voiding CystoUrethroGram- which she sobbed pitifully through). In the ultrasound they discovered that she has a congenital kidney defect-her left kidney is bigger than her right kidney-they called it a duplicated collecting system. She said it is sort of rare to have and seems to be hereditary (all future beldo-gulia anklebiters must get these tests around 2 months of age). So that by itself is not terrible but then in the VCUG they found that she has bilateral reflux of both kidneys. So here's why that combo is no good: she is susceptible or prone to infections, then her body refluxes the infected urine up to her kidneys, which damages the kidneys. At least thats what I understand thus far. So she is now on an antibiotic that she has to take everyday, probably for the next few years at least to try to prevent further kidney damage. We are now being sent to a urologist to determine the "grades" and "phases" that her defects/conditions are in, ie; how severe her specific case is, do we need surgery or can we medicate and see if she will grow out of the reflux. I'm sure everything will be good in the end.

I'm anxious to get to the Urologist and get some more specific information. And I have to admit, I also feel a curiosity about a guy who decided to spend his life working with pee and private parts. I guess somebody has to do it. But I have always wondered how that decision comes about. That and proctology. Like when they are in med school and it comes time to decide on what their specialty will be and they announce to their family around the dinner table that it will be the study of the colon, rectum and anus. Undoubtedly someone asks why, and I would love to be around for the answer. It seems like all the doctors I know get hit up for advice all the time, in all sorts of casual and social settings. Do people do this to urologists and proctologists too? Do they dare? I'm sure all conversations start with, "So I have this friend...." I'm dying to meet this guy. I gotta get to the bottom of this. Bottom- ha ha ha...



This little gem in the Children's Harbor is new since we've been there last. At home we often hear Lila pounding away at the piano, perched on her tippy toes planking at whatever keys she can reach. She was ecstatic at this opportunity to play her heart out at a piano that was just her size. And pink no less. I tried to get her to play with different toys but she would have nothing else. Pink piano or bust. It makes her Daddy proud.

Grumpy? Sheesh, who do you think you are calling this kid grumpy?

Red, white, and blueberries

Berry picking in Chelsea. 8 bucks a gallon. A gallon is a LOT of blueberries. They have a box and you just drop your money in, no one is there tending it. The owner showed up while we were there and told us that he's been doing that for 8 years and has never had a problem with people paying. I love that about Alabama. It restores my belief in the goodness of people.


The week of the 4th brought us a visit from Tim and Katasha. Sort of. They came for treatments from the woman we affectionately and jokingly call our witch doctor. Who knew Birmingham Alabama would become the mecca of health? She has now seen 8 members of my family, each time with positive results. So we didn't actually see too much of them, but we'll take whatever we can get.It was enough time to maintain the Cranium champion title. (Poor boys, losing twice in a row. Such a sad record for guys who talk so big). Anabelle loved every minute cuddling, dancing, reading, and playing with them. In a conversation with Katasha, Abelle asked her, "So, where are you from?" Katasha says, "I'm from Utah. You've been there before." Abelle says that she has not. Katasha says, "Yes you have. That's where you're Uncle Kevin lives and your Uncle Jeff and your Aunt Michelle..." To which Anabelle replies, "I'm not an adult. I don't know where I've been."

Tim took some pictures that may be slightly better quality than mine. Possibly. But the only way we will ever know that is if he decides to give them to me. (Tim that was me daring you to get them to me. Need I throw a double dog out there? Don't make me use a triple dude. Not here. Not now. Not for this.) Several of you have asked me about the pic at the top of the blog- it is from Tim who will be traveling the country for the next year in a bus taking pictures as he goes. Look for him in your city. The website is www.infinity-imagery.com

Late night meditations...

About a week or so ago Braden and I had a weird experience. It came and went and I hadn't really thought on it since. But tonight as I tried to go to sleep, for whatever reason, my mind keeps replaying what happened and I am left with the impression that the experience holds a deeper significance. A metaphor maybe? So here I am in what has become my only source of record keeping trying to write it out so I can get some sleep.

It was late and I was buying something online. I was the only one awake. Right as I was finishing the purchase I was suddenly feeling consumed with worry. I paused a while before finalizing trying to decipher the feeling. Because I couldn't decide if the feeling was related to what I was doing or something else, I didn't continue and instead went to bed.

After a while (I don't think I had even fallen asleep yet) Anabelle came in our room and asked me to snuggle her. I took her into the bed in the spare room and she fell back to sleep. Awhile later, Braden had apparently awoken and came in the room where we were. He asked me to bring Anabelle back to our room where he is. He says he has a worried feeling and feels that we all need to be together. I carry Anabelle back to our room so now our whole family is together. I lay down and after a minute Braden asks me to trade him sides so that he is closer to the door. Then a while later he walks the house, making sure it is secure. Then a while later he got up and shut the door to our room. When he did this I wondered for a minute what a closed door would do in the face of something truly fierce and dangerous. It struck me then that he seemed desperate to protect in any way possible. I even got up and put on clothes in case we needed to leave suddenly. We whispered a prayer together quietly and then we lay there waiting. I don't know for what. It was interesting that we both had the same feeling independent of the other person. When he first asked me to come to our room and expressed his feelings I didn't question him or press him on it because I was feeling the same way.

It was as if he was doing everything he could to put as many barriers between his family and whatever danger existed, real or not. He was terrified. We both felt that our family was in danger and we did everything we could think of to protect ourselves and be ready. We had our phones nearby, Braden had a weapon by his bed, and we lay ready and waiting. Now neither of us feel like this experience was a divine prompting-it came with no instruction, no peace, no clarity. Rather we feel it was an opposite power. It was overwhelmingly terrifying.

So here's the question I'm asking myself: are we, as parents, doing everything we can to create barriers from the world for our family, so that when danger appears suddenly, they are safe. Are we doing the things that create insulation from the darkness of the world, like family prayer, scripture study, Family home evening? Do we listen to songs that are uplifting, do we live in such a way that the Spirit dwells tangibly in our home? The scary thing, is that the answer to those questions is mostly yes. That scares me because as I reflect back on the absolute consuming darkness I felt that night the thought in my mind is, "it's not enough". We can do more. We can do better. We have to. These little girls are counting on us to keep them safe and teach them well. This is no time for casual commandment keeping, especially as it pertains to our children and families.

I have impressed upon my mind the danger we perceived for our family that night. I also have a deep sense that we are to fortify our home with every good thing we can give them, because the world is eager to give them something different. I feel that strongly. I pray Braden and I work together in our lives to figuratively build those barriers and provide that protection.

the strange small people in my house...

This one meticulously bites aquatic life molds out of her breakfast. "Look, Mom" she says, "A seahorse!!"...




...and this one could stroke her hair with her toes if she so desired- while sleeping no less



In answering her questions about seahorses, I did a little research & found out how truly fascinating they are. The males get pregnant and give birth! Maybe I was absent (minded) the day they taught that in third grade. Oh well, I appreciate the full meaning of that a lot more now anyway....check this out

Land That I Love

Online Peer Pressure

Lila sporting the necklace made for her by Anabelle under G-mas's supervision. Each member of our family has one.

Gramma R. came to hold things together while I went on my exotic personal getaway known as girls camp. She showed up with a bag decorated just for Anabelle with her name on it, and inside were presents for her to unwrap and play with for each day. I came home to a table of crafts and toys that had kept them busy. It was marvelous not to have one tiny little concern while I was away about my babes. I knew they were getting hooked up big time- eating like kings and partying in all the party places. I left my house in no fantastic order, at least not what you would want it to look like when your mother-in-law is coming to stay for the week. But I came home to a clean house and a happy family and that was great. She comes, she cleans, she cooks, she plays with the wee ankle biters, she cracks us up and makes us feel like good parents, and she's off. In one word, she's fabulous!

I realize more and more that I lucked out in the in-law department. It seems I am always hearing horror stories of mother-in-laws and all the drama they bring. So I am convinced that she should start a blog called "How Not to Smother in Law". It would have all her rules about being awesome, not annoying. Plus, she could have a sidebar with all her awesome jokes. She walks the perfect balance of being the loving, involved Mom/Grandma without becoming intrusive or overbearing. And, she's a hoot to be around. I fully support and endorse her to lead the campaign against the growing epidemic of mothers who smother. It's a serious problem that effects a majority of the population in one way or another. She could change the world one blog post at a time. There would be merrier Christmases and Happier Thanksgivings. Less trash talking each other's Moms, and more high dollar Mother's day shopping. This could be huge. Kris Reynolds for president! Or wait, maybe I got carried away...I mean Kris Reynolds for Mother-in-law of the year! (although I think she might be an improvement to what we've got... But that's a whole other post).

Yea for her for cleaning my microwave and stove burners!! (I was gonna get to that. Kind of embarrassing but also a little bit awesome)

www.dontbeasmotherinlaw.blogspot.com coming soon! (right Mom?!)

Little Lila K

To Lila on your first birthday:

Your first year was a hard one for our family. In some ways, it was a long year. But in other ways I can't believe your baby days are coming to an end. I didn't get to enjoy all of those days as I wanted to, but we are making up for it now.

You came with a light in your eyes. From day one you have radiated peace and gentleness. Even when I was a few months pregnant with you, I told your Dad that I felt that way since carrying you. Your smile completely takes over your body and warms my soul. You are mild and content and quick to laugh. You love to watch your sister and she can make you laugh doing anything and nothing at all. These days you hide yourself in blankets and clothes constantly, and yell, "TA-DA!!" when you uncover yourself. You clap every time your Dad walks into the room. Or when you hear the word "yea!", or when you hear anyone clapping.

I love the way you put your head on my shoulder when you know I am about to put you in bed. You begin to sing and hum because this is when I always sing you the lullaby song. I rarely sing anymore as we have now switched roles. It is one of my favorite moments each day. Thank you for your calming role in my life. In a time of tension and stress, you were my constant, steady source of joy. You were so low maintenance, requiring so little from me, yet providing so much. I could hold you and feel love and peace and gratitude.

I love it when I'm standing somewhere and suddenly feel tiny fingers filling up the holes in my Crocs. Or when I tickle you and you completely lose control of your body and all your parts are flailing about. I love your growly, grunty little voice and the way you crawl around the house saying, "Mom? Mom?"

Your vocabulary right now includes Mom, Dad, Lila, No no no no no, YUM!, and my very favorite, TA - DA!!!

You've just recently become mobile and that has been fun. You have already eaten all the fake mulch out of my tree. This is always the place I find you when I go looking. You still don't have a single chomper. What's going on there? Just so you know, there is so much more to life beyond applesauce.

You are so playful. You imitate everything we do. You are a very easy crowd. Recently I ran an experiment on you where I contorted my face and moved my body in every way I could think of to see if you would ever stop laughing. But you didn't. I felt so hilarious. It was awesome.

You weigh 23 pounds. 23 pounds of squishy, lovey, smiley, goodness that I adore.

The gift of you has been amazing. You make me happier and better. I'm thankful every day that there is a you and that you are mine.

Happy 1st Birthday Sugar Plum!










Is this not the face of a fun kid?

At Toys R Us picking out a birthday present. Which turned out to be a front facing car seat. It got frustrating to try to explain to a baby that we are out of milk and I need her to suck in while I buckle her straps so we can go to the store. A bit of a lame present, yes. But can you you put a price on safety? I think not. (but if you could it would be somewhere around $67)

A week of prayers

Anabelle will now say her prayers at night all by herself. It has been very sweet to hear her little voice pray and very interesting to hear what she prays for. And sometimes downright funny.


-"Please help me to be......hmmmmmmm........NICE?.....or somethin like that"

-"I'm thankful that I could stand up like this (she stands up), and sit down like this (she sits down), and fold my arms like this (she folds her arms), and lay down like this" (she lays down)... I tell her after a few more bodily demonstrations to say something different so she ends with, "and thankful that I can make Mom's hair a little bit later".

-I must have been very tired and I prompted her when she was stuck to bless President Hinckley. She stopped, opened her eyes and said, "No. I'm not saying that".

-"Thank you for the rain. Thank you for the blessings. Thank you that daddy could work hard for us. Berry, berry hard!!

-"Thank you for this day. HELP ME TO GET BIG AND STRONG"!!!! (said in a deep growly voice)

-"Thankful that we can say prayers"

-AB:"Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this day" (then she whispers to Braden, "Dad! Lila's not drinking her drink! Dad, Lila's not drinking her drink!"
Braden: "Anabelle , say your prayer".
AB: "OK. Dear Heavenly Fath-" (giggles) ...."Oh, I said the wrong thing!" (more giggles)...I was s'pose to say about Jesus"

-"Help Lila that she's not a sickie"

-"Thankful for my toys"

-and the three things that always seem to make it into each prayer are "please bless President Monston, thankful for Jesus, help Grandad to feel better".

The great outdoors

My bed mates sleeping soundly. Lucky ducks. I want to not be a temperature sissy but I can't help it if I need 30 pounds of cotton or animal covering me in order to slumber.

Anabelle was loving that tent. Until she realized she was sleeping alone in there. I was summoned to sleep on the rocks with her and share a sheet-like blanket. A bit of planning won't hurt us next time.

Anabelle throws sticks into the fire. Ninja style.

Last Friday night we were eating dinner outside and I mentioned how perfect the weather was to Braden. He agreed. I said that it was even camping perfect (which in Alabama simply means that it doesn't feel like you are awkwardly sharing a shower with the general public and that bugs aren't presently gnawing your legs to the bone). He said, "We should go camping". I said, "Yes, we should". So we threw some stuff in our car and went camping. Best choice I've made in a while. We forgot stuff, I slept maybe 2 hours of the night because I was freezing and uncomfortable, but something about "living" in nature, if only for a matter of hours is soothing to my soul. Now, after just returning from girls camp as the director, I will say that my family must have played a huge role in the charm I was feeling because at the end of the first day of camp, I willingly crawled in the trunk of my car and remained in fetal position through the rest of the night in order to avoid anymore female banter and chatter and whining and trash talking. I strongly believe that even Anabelle would have been appalled at the whining at girls camp (among leaders!). It's good she wasn't there to see that she isn't even coming close to tapping into full female capacity for annoyingness. I would hate for her to have been inspired. The girls were great for the most part and now that it's over, so am I.

Back to the family camping trip...Anabelle was one happy camper...

For the first time, her passion for stick gathering not only mattered, it was encouraged and rewarded. She ate somewhere around 15 marshmallows for dinner, went to bed very late without taking a bath, and met lots of people and puppies.

For Braden I think it's about any chance he has to get cold.

I didn't have to do dishes, got to snuggle with my family while looking at the stars, and Braden made me laugh my head off. I loved that it was just my family, my favorite people, alone in nature with no distractions. I made immediate mental resolutions to do it more often.

We mocked those who paid for bundles of firewood when they were sitting in a forest. I think our laughing kind of died down with our fire, which lasted only a few minutes because we didn't have enough wood.

Right before bed Anabelle said, "I love it here! It's fun to cook fire".

o-HI-o

Back this morning from another quick weekend road trip. Braden's best friend growing up got married in Cincinnati yesterday. We drove most of the way Friday and stayed the night in Kentucky, then finished the drive on Saturday. I am starting to be a believer of the old school traveling, ie; no movie player. She does great with books and toys and her trusty falsetto singing voice. And her sister's appendages. It was delightful to hear her banter from the backseat. We got to the church a few minutes before it started and ran inside to change in the bathroom. While sprucing up, the majority of the bridesmaids came into the bathrooom at some point. Each time, Anabelle would ask them their name, introduce herself, and introduce "my baby sister, baby Lila". As each person from the wedding party proceeded down the aisle, Anabelle and I would say to each other, "Oh, there's Mia, she looks beautiful", "Oh there's Crissy, she looks beautiful". It dawned on me that my 2 year old had introduced me to the entire female side of the wedding party in the first 15 minutes we arrived. It was by far the fanciest wedding I have ever been to and we were feeling a little out of place. Something about having kids with a flatulence problem in the middle of someones ceremony made it hard to make eye contact with other guests. Definitely should not have carried my diaper bag purse. Note to self if I ever attend another wedding outside of a cultural hall. Anabelle busted out her Elaine-esq dance moves and I totally abused the open bar. 4, maybe 5 diet cokes.

the haps at our house

As previously mentioned, a last minute Reynolds rendezvous happened again. Friday afternoon I told Braden he should call his little brother Cody who is interning in Houston for the summer and get him to come over for the weekend. He chatted with him online. I walked by and read Cody's last message which was "see you in 10 hours". I got the rest of the story when Cody arrived. Apparently Braden promised that we would move to Washington if Cody would come for the weekend. Hmmmm. That's a pretty weird thing to promise without consulting the wife. Cody came bearing a contract to be signed. What is it with these nonsense bets and the notarized contracts that seal them that my dear Braden involves himself in? I used to think our marriage was the only binding document to which he was a party but oh contra ire. But, we got Uncle Cody for the weekend so we'll settle up with that other stuff later. We didn't do anything extravagant. Anabelle just loved playing with "my friend Cody". I went to pick her up from Nursery on Sunday and the teacher said she was already gone. I had passed Braden in the hall and he didn't have her so I had a small feeling of concern. The teacher told me that the door opened, a man came in, and Anabelle yelled that she was going with her friend, and left with him. Well that is pretty much what we fear about her so I was relieved to remember after a few seconds that Cody was there. Nothing too exciting but everything that a long holiday should include: grilling ribs, swimming, family, friends, and a trip to the emergency room. The day ended with a 4 hour trip to the ER for Lila with what turned out to be a UTI.

I returned her to the doctor today (a new stop in our doctor shopping...I think I'll keep this one though) because the antibiotics didn't seem to be helping. The doctor said it must be a very bad infection because this particular medication is supposed to work very well on this kind of infection. Truth be told I now think she's had it for the last few weeks. She has been a teensy bit fussy (fussy=less smiley, a bit less content) but I thought maybe she was finally getting a chomper. But then she had the unmistakable smell in her diaper and high fever which we've learned to recognize because Anabelle had about 5 of them as an infant as well. Apparently it is hereditary. Because it is so rare for infants to have these, she now has to go back to Children's and have an Angiogram and ultrasound to make sure there aren't big problems there. She may already have built up quite a tolerance for antibiotics because she basically lived with an IV of them for the first 5 weeks of life. The nurse today gave her a big shot of a more powerful antibiotic to see if we could break the fever. She said that this was a painful shot and was trying to brace me for it. Lila didn't make a peep. Not even a wince. I don't even know if she noticed. Given, there is a good amount of cushion in those thighs, but still, she is a champion.

We realize that Anabelle has spent way too much time in hospitals and doctors offices. Not that anyone makes her uncomfortable, but she feels the same ease talking with doctors as she does friends on the playground. When the doc walked out of the room at the ER the other night she climbed up on the chair and in a very serious voice looked at Braden and I and said, "Ok, so tell me what's been going on". The time before that she was dancing all around the room and singing loudly and she didn't skip a beat when the doctor walked in. As soon as doc entered the room Anabelle yells an invitation to join her, saying, "Shake your boodie Doctor! Shake your boodie!" And every time a new person comes in Anabelle proudly announces, "Dr, meet my baby Lila!" Then she's been saying, "She's a lil cutie pie. But she's a sickie. She has a fever. She doesn't feel berry good".

Anabelle has been all sorts of helpful this week with Lila. I've found her trying to take her temperature rectally or removing her diaper to check for diahhrea. And yesterday I stepped out of the shower to see that Anabelle had laid Lila down and filled up her belly button with lip gloss. 2 minutes. Is that too much to ask? Can a girl wash her hair for 2 minutes?

Other than that, I have girls camp coming up in a week and I am looking forward to that (being over) so I can have my life and my spare room back. Although Anabelle might be sad it's over because I will return to feeding them healthier meals and less movie time. Unless I don't...


Lila discovers her jolly belly

She seems okay with it


This is the morning I discovered the fever and smell. She looks fussy and miserable right?

You can see why I'm ecstatic when I get to share a bed with Anabelle. Braden had a good point though- if we teach all our kids to sleep this way we can pile them all in this very bed and never have to buy another. We could fit at least 8 or 9 (that is if I get pregnant with sextuplets on my next pregnancy)

Payoff

I'm walking down the hall with Anabelle. She grabs my hand and holds it and says, "I love you so much. And I love family home levening. And I love home."

Mothering

An unexpected Mother's day gift showed up unconventionally around midnight last night when our hallway filled up with water from a broken pipe. Some servicemen were called out to come extract the water. About this same time, two of Braden's brothers showed up to pick him up for their cross country trek to help the Silver Fox move. The cleaners spoke Spanish, as do the three hermanos. I told the guys to ask him what he would charge to clean the carpet in my dining room (either this is my last carpeted dining room, or my kids eat on our doorstep for every meal. Forever. Rain or shine. I mean it). The dude says 30 bucks. I said 15 bucks and a book that is guaranteed to change your life. So Reese paid the guy 30 bucks and my carpets are cleaned.(And it turns out, he is interested in the book). I made Anabelle eat on a towel today. Not sure when or if the kids get to return from their exile to all rooms tiled. Look at me shining on Mother's day. That probably wasn't as sad as when I dumped a pile of Cheerios on the floor for dinner for the girls to eat so I could fall asleep for 10 minutes. (That being said, I must congratulate myself on a huge parenting accomplishment this week in Anabelle's grooming. I successfully cut her fingernails, toenails, and her rat-tail mullet. Some of you know the struggle with the nails. Oh, the struggle. We have tried grandparents, uncles, aunts, friends, shameless bribery, and one morning I wrestled her to the ground and physically restrained her-no small feat. It was not my best idea. Not a glorious memory. But she got her nails painted as a reward and her hair no longer fits with the Alabama general public).

Then someone knocked on the door and it was our friend Jared. He handed me a huge bouquet of beautiful flowers. I wanted to say, "Uh, does Stephanie know you're here"? Turns out Braden took him the flowers before he left so they could be delivered to me today. There's no explaining that to Anabelle though. She keeps saying, "they're not from Daddy, they're from Jared". Good. Hope she spreads that around the ward real quick.

I also got invited into Anabelle's nursery class at church today for a special Mother's day treat. I was bracing myself for the usual nursery setup: all other kids running to their parents anxiously, throwing their arms around them and yelling their names happily. Meanwhile Anabelle either runs the other way, yells "NOOOO, I DONT WANT TO GO HOME!", or my personal favorite where she runs to you making you feel excited only to push you out the door yelling, "GO!". She lives for nursery and cheese. But, she was cuddly and loving with me and very sweet. She gave me a handmade craft to pin on my shirt and I said, "Oh! You made this for me?!" and she casually said, "Nah. Julienne did". At least she's honest.

Mother's Day has become not only a day of appreciation for my own Mom, but an immense gratitude for the blessing of being a mother myself. It has allowed me see my own Mom in a new way. To know something of her sleepless nights, her worry, her tender care, her pleading prayers- gives me a deeper gratitude for her service.

Nothing has changed me more, challenged me, rewarded me, aggravated me, lifted me, made me cry, brought more joy and laughter than has motherhood. When I found out I was pregnant with Anabelle I was preparing for grad school and had loved my post college jobs. I feared that I would feel unfulfilled and that I would miss work. There have maybe been five days where that has been the case. If I had a PhD I wouldn't miss the chance of raising these kids and being their Mom. One day I'll go back to work and start raking in the cash doing social work again. But until then, Anabelle is about all the social work I can handle.

I am thankful everyday that I get to be a Mom. With all that I am, in the deepest most sincere and raw parts of my soul, I love being a Mom.


Aldridge in the Fall

Me looking fabulous (clearly) while doing Buns of Steel with Anabelle- a highlight of my day. I had the camera out because I was trying to capture her working it. That's pretty much my goal for the month of May. I warned you about the lowering standards.

Making Lila laugh. Not hard- she's an easy crowd. If you can't make Lila laugh there is a good chance you are mostly dead.

A letter to...(yawn)....what was I saying?

In my Counseling class in college we learned that sometimes when one feels frustrated or angry at past offenses done to them, a letter written to the culprit could help work past these unwanted feelings to bring peace. Some of those words are a bit strong for me but, here goes...

Sweet Anabelle,

I know that you are still very small. I also know that you recognize and understand what a pattern is, you pick up on them everyday. So I'm hoping you will understand what I mean when I say that for the last few months you have established a pattern of staying awake all night. We hear you singing in your bed in the wee hours of the morning. I get several visits from you many nights of the week, sometimes 4 or 5 per night. The rest of the pattern is that during the day, you generally will not take a nap (unless we have spent the entire morning playing at the park). I have tried everything I can think of to help you remember your old beautiful sleeping schedule. The tragedy is that after you and I have spent a lot of time together in the night, sometimes we are not our best selves the next day. And I don't mean to be rude but, you especially. I am sure that this is just a phase. One day soon your little body will get back on track. But in the meantime, I've decided to stop trying to "fix" it, and as any good mother would do, completely lower my standards. There may be more movie time than I usually allow, I may rethink my definition of a "dirty" sock, it's possible that I will even somehow find a way to justify a fruit roll-up as breakfast (it wouldn't be that hard- I mean look at the name). And I know there's been recent debate about this, but I may even cast my vote on the side of 'yes, putting your hair in a ponytail is the same thing as taking a shower'. Please do not take advantage of this, as I'm only doing it out of necessity to preserve my sanity. Please know that I very much look forward to spending lots of time with you again. The real you, the one that is hilarious and sweet and a great sidekick. I love you completely and absolutely with my whole heart always and forever.

xoxo,

Mom

Things get ugly around 4. Doing a craft to try to make it through the day. I gave you the spaghetti you tossed last night as a snack....
...But again it didn't seem to work out. If you hate spaghetti that much just say so. Sheesh, you could just ask for a sandwich you know.

Dear, dear daughter of mine

A rough sketch of your life on May 5, 2009...

12:30- visit Mom at her bedside and stare creepily at her until she senses me
2am- visit Mom at her bedside to tell her that I am thirsty
3am- visit Mom at her bedside to tell her I want to snuggle her
3am-5am- snuggle mom in my bed. "snuggle" should be interpreted as playing with hair, petting her face, singing in my best falsetto songs that I make up as I go.
7am- awake and notice that mom has snuk back to her bed. Run to her room to see if baby Lila can be climbed on and squished yet.
10am- tell mom that you are too tired to go to Publix. Go to your room and instead of napping, dump every item out of every container, take all 200 books off the shelf, and run around like a monkey.
11am- play with Lila on the floor until she falls asleep. put her bottle on the counter and go to your room to find a new adventure.
1pm- see how far you can spread lunch around without actually consuming a single crumb of food.
4pm- become very whiny and emotional because you are exhausted. watch your mom take several deep, cleansing breaths.
6pm- throw your plate of spaghetti and your fork. Get put in the time out closet. Promptly pee on mom's freshly washed blankets. Go right to sleep.

xoxo,

your loving, tired Mother




Seriously? Did your father not whittle you beds with his bare hands?