Gingerbread Houses Galore!

On the agenda for today; Gingerbread houses, hot chocolate with marshmallows*, and lots of tickling!

Things that will be avoided at ALL costs; Getting dressed.

* Did you know the word "marshmallow" is spelled with an "A" and not with an "E" in the end part of the word? WEIRD! You learn something new everyday, I guess...

Charlie Brown called, he wants his Christmas tree back.

This past weekend marked the fifth annual S family Christmas tree gathering. This year we were fortunate enough not to have to spend any money on it. Pete's granny owns some property up in the mountains and she graciously let us cut down one of her many. Fun was had by all. I forgot how nice it could be to hike around in the woods with my family. It took us a while to find our tree. But find her we did. I couldn't help but think that "natural" trees weren't as perfect as Christmas tree lot trees. They're sparce, they have big holes in the sides and sometimes they're lopsided. However, they also aren't half dead either. I guess you take the good with the bad.
My Charlie Brown tree is sitting behind me, hideously decorated just the way I like it. Every bare inch covered in SOMETHING.

This is by far my favorite time of the year. I get giddy when I think about Christmas trees, sweaters, Santa, peppermint mochas, peppermint ice cream, peppermint in general...and all of our special traditions that are specific to my family. I've had Christmas music playing continuously around the clock, much to the annoyance of my husband. Deep down I think he loves it! Having kids makes it even sweeter. I can't explain the joy I feel when I see the delight on their faces when they see the pile of gifts under the tree. I can't help but laugh when they see the tree for the first time and THEY laugh. It's something everybody should experience.

These are the happy thoughts that I force myself to think of at the end of each day. A day that has required constant vigilance due to my one year old's determination to pull the tree down on himself or choke himself to death on an ornament. A day that was filled with my three year old asking again and again if he could have just one more chocolate from the advent calender. And me having to say, "no" again and again. A day filled with long lines at the store, impossibly big piles of presents to wrap, and no time for a nap. And you know what? Thinking about the above truly works in lifting my spirits. When I have so much to be thankful for it's simply too much effort to be angry. For the first time in my life I could get nothing on Christmas morning and still feel so incredibly blessed, because honestly, I totally am.

Burrrr, it's cold in here!

Do you know what I did yesterday morning? I walked my son to pre-school wearing a coat, hat, and scarf! The best part about it was that I didn't even look like an asshole! Because it was cold! And foggy! California got the memo! Finally! I love the holidays, they make me happy. As evidenced by all of the extra exclamation points! And for all you perverts out there, I wasn't ONLY wearing a coat. I also had on pants, a shirt, and all the proper under-garments. I'm no exhibitionist.

Yes, folks is that time of year again. Pete and I have been having nightly wrestling matches over my frosty toes. He absolutely refuses to let my feet get anywhere near his. And I absolutely refuse to put my feet anywhere else. It's my own fault, I guess. I should have included, "I promise to let you warm the ice cubes you call your toes on my deliciously warm feet ALL winter long" in our(his) wedding vows. Sigh, hindsight's a wench, ain't she? All is not lost however. I've been going to sleep after Pete which means that I can slyly sneak my feet over to his side of the bed. He puts up MUCH less of a fight after he's already asleep. Who would have thought?

I'm in the mood for Seasons

Um, I don't think California got the memo. Somebody needs to tell California that it's late October and it's probably time to start getting, you know, COLD? Yesterday, the high was 92. Ninety-freakin-two, people. Is it me or does that seem completely wrong to you? Sigh...I think it's time to move, I'm in the mood for seasons.

A little random to go with your coffee

Can you picture my prophesy? I don't know what's worse, the fact that I opened this blog with a 2pac quote or the fact that I actually quote 2pac. Am I even cool enough to quote rappers? On one hand I'm still pretty young, only 25 and I'm sure that at some point, someone must have thought me cool. Admittedly they probably didn't know me very well. On the other hand, I'm a mother of two who drives a station wagon, mini-van, SUV thing. Technically, it's an SUV-station wagon "crossover". But in reality, it's just a nerdy car trying to be cool. In this way we are perfectly matched, unfortunately.

So, here's my question. At what point do us moms give up trying to be cool and just give into our "momness"? I've known a few woman who never stop trying to be cool and I guess the question for them is this; At what point does this become pathetic? My guess would be when you start quoting rappers.

In other non-random news, we're all doing incredibly well. We're all incredibly boring. Which is okay, boring is good. Boring is NOT chaos. Kyle is almost walking. IN fact, he's doing a creepy run on his hands and feet thing. When I first saw him do this I thought, "ooohhh, I'm not sure if that's cute or not..." He looks like an alien spider something or other when he does it. I don't know...

Caden has started pre-school. He seems to be enjoying it. When I ask him if he had fun all I can get out of him is "yesss, I shared cars!" So, your guess it as good as mine! We're minimizing the melt-downs which is good for me and my recent twitch.

Oh, I didn't tell you? My kids have literally given me an eye twitch! After having it for two weeks I broke down and called my doctor. She informed me that they do nothing for twitches and it's almost always caused by stress and lack of sleep. I was kind of clued into the stress aspect of it when I noticed that it would get worse when Caden was acting up.

"Caden(twitch) stop body slamming(twitch twitch) your brother!!! Twitch twitch twitch." Awww, the joys of parenting.

If only for a little while, please stop.

I've been a mess lately. Crying randomly and uncontrollably, lashing out at my husband and kids, and falling into endless funks. The reason seems silly to me, but no matter how silly I tell myself it is, I can't escape it. I feel like lately, time has been throwing itself in my face. Laughing at me as it flies past. Continuely whispering in my ear, "look how fast I can go..." and no matter how hard I try to shut it out, it's always in front of my eyes.

Time is everywhere. It's in the changing leaves outside and the forecast on TV. It's in the box of baby clothes I gave away, and the baby I gave the clothes to. It's in my nana's face and my sons unstable walk. It's in the catalogs that came today, and the catalogs that'll come tomorrow.

Time is cruel.

We very recently put an offer on a house and to put it mildly, I'm ecstatic. I can not, CAN NOT wait to get out of this apartment. We're crammed in here like sardines and it does nothing for my mood. I'm sharing a room with Kyle and Caden is sharing a room with all of our storage. Toys are littering our living room and laundry is littering the bathroom. Our closets are overflowing and to be blunt, so are we. But here's the thing, however miserable we are now, I know I'll miss this. One day, very soon(or so it seems) I'll be cooking dinner in my big kitchen in my big roomy house. Caden will be away at school and Kyle will be locked in his room, moodily listening to music. Or maybe, he'll be gone too. I'll remember this apartment, and I'll ache for it. I'll ache for the times when Kyle is crying because Caden pushed him, and Caden is yelling at Kyle because he's crying. And I'M crying because I have nowhere to hide. I'll ache for the times we all cram into one bed for naps, and the times we squeeze ten plus people into the living room for Christmas dinner. I'll ache for the times that have long since turned into memories.

How do we slow this down? How do I get time to stop and let me have my fill of babies, and toddlers, and hot husbands? To give me so much of this that I have to say, "okay, enough. I'm ready to move on now. I'm ready for whatever is next." How can I ensure that twenty years from now when I'm cooking dinner in an empty house, I feel contentment instead of longing? Because if there's one thing I know, it's this; I sure as hell do not want to miss this apartment.

Happy Fall, Ya'll!

Today I was almost trampled by a herd of stampeding children. I wish I could say I was kidding, but I can't. Due to my stellar balance(okay, more like luck. Balance and I have never gotten along) I was able to remain upright and ride it out. It was close though. Who would have thought that the hay pyramid at the pumpkin patch could be so dangerous?

Rabid children aside, it was an awesome day. For the first time ever I felt comfortable just letting Caden run amok and trusting that he wouldn't wander off so far that we couldn't find him. And guess what? He didn't! He picked out a cute little pumpkin, played nicely, oohhhed and aaahhhed at the tractors and(IF you can believe this) came quietly when we said it was time to go. Kyle was content to sit in my arms, play in the hay and he tolerated the adorable puppy hat I made him wear. I know, I know, sounds a little "out there" but I swear it's all true! Ask my husband! He'll back me up! Because it's trruuueee! I'm flying here, folks.

After we came home I found a recipe (that turned out to be awesome) for pumpkin black bean soup. Like I said before, it was awesome. It was the perfect way to ring in autumn! I can't imagine anything better than sitting at my pumpkin adorned table(because I got a few, too) eating hot soup, and listening to the wind howl. Bliss.

To sleep or...?

When I first started this blog I had every intention of blogging at least five times a week. I wanted one post a day, Monday through Friday, and then on the weekend I would rest. Unfortunately, I didn't factor in my children. See, the only time I have to myself is late at night, after my kids have gone to bed. And every night I ask myself this question, "To sleep, or not to sleep...?" I think every parent knows that THAT is the question. Shakespeare didn't know what he was talking about, clearly. So, I end up reading, or watching TV, or on the rare occasion, going to bed early. I don't know about you, but I do my best writing late at night. Some of my best blogs have been written while laying in bed only to be forgotten by morning. It's almost a tragedy. So what do I do? I think I need to be content with posting when I have the energy and only then. Because let's face it, blogging is pretty low on my list of priorities. So, to make a long story a little less long, I'm sorry for the half assed blog. Goodnight.

Happy Sunday All!

May your day be filled with brunches, naps, and uninterrupted newspaper reading time! May you get to spend some real quality time with my main squeeze of main squeezes(I have a few) Jesus.

I plan to have a big breakfast, visit the REAL happiest place on earth, Costco, nap, and have a nice dinner out with my husband and rug-rats.

Happy Sunday to all and to all a Happy Sunday!

How did I end up Here?

Occasionally I look around and I ask myself, how did I end up here? How did I end up so far away from where I wanted to be? When the baby is crying, and Caden is spazzing out. When Pete is late getting home, when dinner goes horribly wrong. When I hear about my friends graduating and partying all the time, I always think, how?

I always imagined my life so different from how it actually turned out. I was going to move to a big city, live in a fabulous apartment, eat out all the time, read whenever I wanted...the list goes on and on and yet here I am. Here I am with two kids, a husband, bills, ONE friend in town and a lot of neighbors who are TOO damn close!

Last night my kids took a bath together for the first time. As I sat and watched them laugh and splash I was filled with true joy. I laughed with them. And not for the first time it hit me. I love my life. It is perfect for me. Nothing, absolutely nothing makes me happier than watching my kids have fun, together. Nothing makes me happier than hearing the screen door open and knowing that my husband is home. And even when dinner does go wrong, there's a certain satisfaction in knowing that I'm taking care of my family.

I oftentimes forget that when I was in college I had no idea what I wanted to do. The painful knowledge that I was wasting a lot of time, and a lot of money. One week I thought I'd like to be a journalist, the next a nurse. But when I had Caden God showed me that what I was meant to be was a mom. In the face of all the chaos this knowledge is easily forgotten. Easily replaced with the misconception of how great I had it in college.

It's a good thing I have bath time to remind me just how lucky I really am.

Apples and Oranges

Like apples and oranges, black and white, cheese and noodles, puking and pooping just go together, and if you're my children they go together explosively. We have had no shortage of either in my house this week. And do you know what I need right about now? After a week of changing 8-10 dirty diapers a day, oftentimes accompanied with having to clean the carpet because said diapers failed to do their jobs? After having to change and wash my sons crib sheets no less than three times? Do you know what I could use? That's right, a break.

So, tonight when my husband gets home I will point to the fridge and say, "Help yourself to some delicious left-overs honey!" And I will promptly walk out the door, get into my car and drive. Drive across town to Burger King so I can sit in the relatively empty parking lot of Target(so as to be free of people staring at me and thinking about the poor, pathetic, wild eyed and bushey-haired woman eating alone in her car. And you thought insecurity disappeared with the ending of highschool. ha.) and eat my dinner. Eat my deliciously disgusting fat soaked burger and fries in silence. Sounds blissful, doesn't it? No? Well, yeah, but I take what I can get. Forgot the Pill, THIS is birth control.

Happy 4th of July!

I guess I can't really call this a "parenting blog" until I've had a true blue puking post. I'm going to tell you ahead of time that it probably won't be funny, and if it is, it was completely unintentional and only funny to you, the reader. This whole puking episode is just too fresh in my mind, not enough time has passed for me to be able to "look back and laugh". I'm sure you understand.

The trouble started around nine on Wednesday night. Pete was getting ready to leave for some guy time and I was looking forward to having some alone time as well. Kyle had woken up on the wrong side of the crib and wanted some attention. Not a whole minute had passed before he threw up all over me, my hair, and the kitchen floor. When I started calling for Pete Caden came running into the kitchen, and right into the puke. He was freaking out because he heard the panic in my voice. The panic that was there not because my child had just thrown up, but because my child had just thrown up all over me. I gave Kyle to Pete,cleaned up the mess, hopped in the shower and came out to try to feed Kyle while Pete continued to get ready. Up to this point I was sure that he had thrown up because I had given him some actual food and failed to burp him. I was quickly proven wrong when after nursing, Kyle threw up all over me, my hair, and the couch. After Kyle had thrown up a few more times I loaded both the boys up in the car and headed to the ER, sans Pete. Pete had gone out with the guys, remember? He eventually met me at the ER, listened to my panicky complaints, and whisked Caden off to bed time.

To make a long story short, we got home from the ER around 2:30 after which the doctor told me that he was sure that it was something he had eaten and Kyle would be brand new in the morning. Except he wasn't. Well, he was until about three in the afternoon when he started to thrown up again(yeah, thanks Doc!) Thankfully we had been sent home with some awesome medicine and we quickly shoved that down Kyle's throat. Disaster averted. Oh, I'm sorry, let me finish that last sentence. Disaster averted until Caden started throwing up a couple of hours later. Are you jealous, yet? No, well let me add that all of this took place over the holiday weekend.

We all ended up getting sick and I truly believe that I not only survived the flu, but Hell as well. Needless to say, we didn't do much all weekend except think about how I really needed to clean the toilet more often, although that could have just been me, and stared mindlessly at the TV.

Yeah, Happy 4th Of July to you, too.

Are you kidding me, Google?

Google informed me that Napa was foggy. Google was wrong. Are you kidding me, Google? Would it kill you to open up a newspaper, Google? Would it kill you to climb out from under the rock you've been under, or fly down from Mars for a visit, Google? Because if you did, you might realize that Napa isn't, in fact, foggy. Napa and all of northern California is on fire, you see. So common sense, Google, would say that Napa is smoky. But you wouldn't know that, Google because you are sadly misinformed. You apparently can't bother yourself with accurate reporting, can you Google? The air here has been categorized as "extremely unhealthy." Can you imagine keeping your kids inside for a WEEK, Google? No, I'm sure you can't. I'm sure you have no idea what it's like having a toddler bouncing(literally) off the walls. I'm sure you've never heard your three old come to you and say in a pathetic voice, "Can't go outside today, it's too smoky." You're very insensitive, Google. Next time, I think it would be wise to do your homework, Google. Next time, I won't be so kind.

Update: Napa is now smoke free, thank goodness. This blog should have actually been written last week, but I didn't have the time what with a manic toddler running around the house. Oh well, what can you do?

Delight

From dictionary. com Delight;a high degree of pleasure or enjoyment; joy; rapture

A devotional in my bible asks this question, "What do you delight in?" I read this two days ago and was completely dismayed because honestly, I had no idea. What did I find extreme pleasure in? All I could come up with was reading, and to be honest, that seemed pretty weak. However, in two days, God has given me two different answers. Two answers which I am delighted to have discovered.

I grew up in a neighborhood with four other girls whom lived near by. We did everything together; sleep overs, swimming lessons, bike riding, soccer, school...you name it, we did it. Did our families take annual trips to the beach together? Why yes, yes they did. Did we have weekly barbeque's on Sunday nights? My goodness, how did you know? Did we all have the same clothes? You bet. Did we fight and get into trouble, as well? Of course, we're girls, remember? There was the time when A* and I snuck into our neighbors yard, pushed over their Christmas deer(which looked like more a giraffe, truth be told) and posted a note on their front door reading, "Nice Christmas giraffe." See? The wonderful thing about this story is that the most wholesome of our little five some, AP, was the one blamed. And as far as I know, they still think it was her today. Another time, we TP'ed the (different) neighbors house. Which wouldn't be so bad, except we did it in the rain. This story actually holds bitter undertones because again, an innocent party(okay, the MOST innocent party)was blamed. Only this time it wasn't so funny because I was the innocent party.

With Whitney leaving, who was one of the five, I've started to think a lot about growing up with these girls and it's astonishing to me that so much time has passed. One of us is a teacher, two of us are going to school, one of us is heading off to Jordan for two years, and one of us is married with two little rug-rats, er. I mean children.

Here's the thing, as we got older, we all tended to drift apart. Sort of. A and I were always close as were Whitney and S*.Whitney and AP are close because their sisters,as are S and A. Got that? But no matter how long it's been since we've spoken or seen each other, we can all come together and return to our natural flow. Which is what happened last night while Whitney, S, and I were hanging out in Barnes n Nobles. It was fun. We laughed, we gossiped, and we tried(unsuccessfully) to get Whitney to go talk to the cute soldier. It was when we were semi-stalking the soldier that I realized that hanging out with my oldest friends was bringing me a type of joy I haven't felt in a long while.

I was delighted.

*Names have been changed because I'm not sure if any of them would kick my ass for including their real names in a public blog. Except Whitney of course, but she'll never know, she's leaving the country.

Whi Whi

I have a friend. Wow, congratulations you're probably thinking. HAHA, very funny! Actually, I have a lot of friends but for the sake of this post, I'm only going to talk about one of them. My friend, she's wonderful. She's not only smart(because anybody can be smart) she's also informed. She's a little bit conservative, a little bit liberal and very good at being both. She not only sees both sides but can emphasize with both. She's strong, funny, and resilient. She's had her heart broken a few times but still, she doesn't run from love. She welcomes it. I wouldn't know from personal expierience, but something tells me she's incredibly loyal as well. Do you know what else she is? She's brave. She wants to save the world. She wants to see peace.

On Friday morning Whitney is leaving for Jordan for two years with the peace core. Now do you see what I mean about being brave? I love her and I'm so proud of her! I just ask that you pray for her, nobody deserves it more.

Excuse me, did you say something?

This conversation took place around the dinner table tonight. Pete and Caden had just bumped their bread together.

Pete: We breaded each other!

Holly: You toasted each other!!(haha)

Pete:...You didn't get that the first time?

H: The...first time?

P: Yeah, I just said that.

H: No, you just said, "we breaded each other!"

P: Yeah, but before that I said, "We toasted each other!" You looked me in the eye and smiled...?

H: I did? Wow...I didn't hear you at all.

P: What were you thinking about?

H:...

H: Hey! That's a good sign, we're starting to think alike!

P: Yeah, if you ignore the really BAD sign.

Obviously Pete is the pessimist.

Translation

My in-laws house is three stories tall. Translation: I'm going to have GREAT legs by the time I leave ;-)

P.S. We made the twelve hour drive in one day and we're ALL still alive, I call that a success!

The(fill in the blank) part.

Ah, stress. Nothing quite like it, eh? Tonight we leave for Oregon, and true to form I've left everything until the last minute. I haven't packed, cleaned, nor mentally prepared myself for a week and half with the in-laws. Oh, don't get me wrong, I love my in-laws. I hit the in-law lottery if you'd like to know the truth. They're great. It's the week and a half away from home with two kids under four part that I don't like. The running around frantically packing, cleaning, and just running around frantically part that I don't like. It's the moment when you're finally able to sit down, only to realize that you've forgotten something that must be done NOW part. It's the worrying about whether or not you've packed enough, or too much, or packed the wrong things altogether part! Or, this might just be the worst part. The walking out the door, getting in your car, driving an hour, then realizing you've forgotten either your purse, blankie, medicine, and/or fill in the blank part. And you know what? No matter how many lists I make or times I remind myself, I always forget something.

Here's the thing. I think I need to concentrate on a week with my husband part. Or the week away from my regular routine part. OR the completely unexpected and welcome week away from the blinding heat, part!

Wish me Luck. Have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend.

Crushed Chilis

I grew up with two older brothers. Jason was six years older than me and Jonas was three. Jason and I were far enough apart in age that he mostly left me alone. Oh, we had a couple of spats, but nothing too serious. Jonas, on the other hand was another story. We use to drive each other crazy, and he could truly be mean. In time I've come to accept that big brothers are just hardwired to annoy and torture their younger siblings. Unfortunately for me, I was the youngest.

When I was about eight years old, my brothers and I were sitting around the kitchen table doing who knows what. I imagine we were probably playing a board game of some sort. Jonas eventually started talking about how good crushed chili's were. "Almost like candy," he said. "Why don't you try them, Holly?" Being young and naive,(and just a little bit stupid, I think) I had no reason to disbelieve him. Looking back, I probably had millions of reasons. He even went so far as to lovingly pour me a handful.

I don't know if you've ever eaten a handful of crushed chili's, my guess is no. They most certainly do not taste like candy. I imagine they probably taste a little bit like fire. Eventually my mom found me crying under the bar rubbing my tongue. I felt like a fool for believing him, and even at eight, I was ashamed. It didn't help that I had to lick milk off of a napkin because I wouldn't, and still won't, drink the stuff. She demanded to know what had happened and it wasn't as satisfying as it should have been to hear her yell, "Jonas, get in here, NOW!" after I told her what he had done.

It was a while before I would believe anything he said, and truthfully sometimes I still don't. It was then that I realized that I had better learn how to fight back or risk being humiliated in this way for a long time to come. I never learned to fight at his level, but I did learn something useful. My mom always believed me when I told her that he had hit me, whether he had or not.

I never said I fought fair.

The Strong Silent Type

When Caden was a baby he was amazing. He only cried when he was hungry, he slept through the night at a week old, and he had a very sweet disposition. He was very much like Pete. We thought that without a doubt he would grow up to be the "strong, silent type". Very calm and mellow. We congratulated ourselves. Gave ourselves many pats on the back. Raising babies? Easy shmeazy. You say it's hard? You must be weak!

Anyway, to make a long story short. We. Were. Wrong. Caden is LOUD. Caden likes to (literally) bounce off of walls. Caden likes to yell! In the library? Sure! Church? Wonderful! Restaurants? Even better! However, there are a few wonderful things I can attribute to him getting my personality. He's alive. He laughs, he's bubbly, and he is a lover. It isn't abnormal for him to crawl into my lap, take my face in his hands and say, "I love you so much!" He's also very compassionate. He's been known to rub my back and ask if I'm okay if I seem to be crying. Sometimes I have to remind myself of these things when he's screaming in the middle of a parking lot. Or when he won't go to bed even though I've asked, I've pleaded and I've threatened all night.

Kyle? Kyle only cries when he's hungry. He's been sleeping through the night for a while now, and he has a very sweet disposition. We are certain that he will grow up to be the "strong silent" type.

Pop Quiz

Pop Quiz time! Put your books away and please take out your pencils.

1. Last night, while Holly was falling into a peaceful slumber her last coherent thought was this;

A. What a wonderful stress free day!

B. Please, please dear, Lord let them both sleep through the night.

C. Gee, I hope my neighbors don't think I beat my children.

If you've picked "A" you are either delusional and/or don't have children. Because I don't believe anybody can be that naive, I'm going to go with the former. If you've picked "B" you must have this same thought time to time, I'm sorry. You are not alone. If you've picked "C" you are the winner! Congratulations, you! The prize? If you are so inclined, you may have my children. Kidding! Kidding, of course. Seriously? I'd be willing to part with them for a day or two ;-)

When things get stressful in my house, which they often are, I tend to talk in elevated tones, or yell, if you'd like to be a jerk about it. At first I worried about this. A lot. What kind of mother yells are her precious babies? Loses her patience every couple of hours or so? I'll tell you what kind, the very normal kind, much to my relief. I'm still figuring out how to be a mother of two, you see. Sometimes I'll be chugging right along feeling pretty good about my life and my mothering skills. Easy, I think to myself. No problemo. Until (and there is ALWAYS an "until") I hear the inevitable crash, or scream or wildly out of control laughter(which is ALWAYS just as bad as the scream) and I know. My three year old has done something that he knows he's not suppose to do but does anyway because he likes to test mommy! Because it's en vogue for toddlers to say, "No!" or sweetly say, "Yes, mommy" and turn around and do the opposite. Fun stuff. I only hope that my neighbors have had children of this age and that instead of thinking, "Good grief, what goes on in that house" they're ACTUALLY thinking, "That poor woman, I should bake her a cheesecake."

These are a Few Of My Favorite Things

I've always wanted to do this, and then I saw one of my favorite bloggers had done it(www.the3facesofeve.blogspot.com) and I thought, "what the hell?" so, here are some of my favorite things. ;-)Please sing to the tune from the sound of music.

Santa at Christmas and shopping with buddies
Hot apple cider and "A's" without studies
Orange jack-o-lanterns and huge diamond rings
These are a few of my favorite things!

Beemers and gossip and cute little poodles.
Snowballs and cheese balls and tuna with noodles
Money in cards that the mail brings
These are a few of my favorite things!

Bright early mornings with hot air balloons
Naps under blankets on cold afternoons
Singing in autos and kind human beings
These are a few of my favorite things!

When the wind blows
When the cake burns
When I'm feeling sad.
I just think of my favorite things, then I don't feel so baaad!

Perfect for me.

You are my love above the rest. You make me see stars everywhere. Even when it's light, I see them, in your eyes, and buzzing around my head. My world is one big blur of sparkley yellow diamonds exploding into the depths of everything while I stand in the glitter that rains down, staring at only you. Mine is a perfect existence of your beautiful essence and the glowing smile of our precious son.

That folks, is how I can sum up my life. I wrote this when P and I were first married, so to be completely accurate we would need to add an "S" to sons. I now have two kids under the age of three, both boys. Are you calling my bluff yet on my introduction? No? Well you should be, shame on you! I love my life, but no longer is it the peaceful world of "baby makes three". My life is hectic and chaotic and when I don't have an infant attached to my boob, I have a toddler on my leg. We are not a perfect family, my sons are not the cutest, smartest, sweetest, babies alive(although, I think they are) and my husband is not a knight in shining armor(although I think he is) but you know what? I love my life this way! After all, chaos is NEVER boring.