So I DO Get a Vacation After All!

And I don't mean hanging out with the family at the cabin. Today I am getting a FANTASTIC vacation of which you are going to be completely and utterly jealous.

My vacation? I am home.

We were supposed to leave for the vast wilderness today. I was SO not looking forward to going. We just got home! And I have been so busy this week that I haven't had time to take a breath at all. I whined and complained and Greg came up with a solution. I stayed home.

Not for the whole week, just for a day. Greg left with the kids this morning, (YAY!) and I got to spend all day at home, sludging around and causing all sorts of trouble. I will go to my sister-in-law's house tonight and crash in her extra room so since we are driving to the cabin tomorrow morning at an extremely grotesque hour.

It has been a good day. I peed with no interruptions. No one pounding on the door yelling, "MOOOO-OOOM!". No fingers wriggling underneath the door either. That was really, really nice.

I watched daytime tv. There was nothing on at all worth watching, but that isn't the point now, is it. I turned on the tv and didn't hear, "DORA!!! Dora, Mom! PLEASE???" then tears of sadness because I refuse to change the channel. That was nice too.

I realized a few things today. Numero Uno: It is really quiet without my kids here. Creepily quiet. I have had to turn on the radio or the tv for background noise. I am not used to silence. I don't like it at all. Numero Dos: I act like I am in panic mode all the time. I hurried when I ate, I hurried when I cleaned (yes, I cleaned. I know. But it was so much nicer to clean without a "helper".) I hurried when I peed. I had to remind myself that there was no reason for me to hurry. No one was waiting for me. A good feeling to have for a day or so.

So I'm just here hanging out, thinking about watching a chick flick or something equally as entertaining. It's been a good day. Hopefully I'm thinking it is still a good day tomorrow morning when I wake up and my boobs realize that they aren't going to be getting any relief. We're down to one nursing session a day. Maybe today's was the last!

Have a fantastic holiday weekend! I'll be back next week with all sorts of naturific tales.

Our Trip of Wonder and Amazement.

Well, we are back home after an extremely long and exhausting week. The kids were both giddy when they saw Greg for the first time in a week. I was happy too, but not giddy. I was too darn tired to be giddy. You could have handed me a large sack of money and instead of spending it I probably would have just used it as a pillow. Yup. Tired.

So the trip to Utah with just me and the kids. It was good. So much happened that I can't tell you all without absolutely boring you to tears so I will stick to the highlights and lowlights. You can be the judge of which was which.

The trip down went better than I ever thought it would. All that worrying for nothing! Mini-Man fell asleep JUST outside of town, but woke up when he heard the Dora the Explorer theme song. The kid was absolutely exhausted but kept his eyes peeled for another 1 1/2 hours. Heaven forbid he miss a few episodes of Dora.

We stopped at a McDonald's for Happy Meals and to stretch our legs. I hate McDonald's food and apparently so do my kids. That didn't stop us from going there 4 times this week since the Happy Meal toys are from Cars, but whatever. I was judged harshly at that McDonald's and here is why:

Me: A-Boy, do not stand up on the bench. You are going to fall and hurt yourself.

A-Boy: HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!

Me: Sit down right now, please.

A-Boy: HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!! HAHA---SPLAT!......WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!

He fell off the bench. Two concerned parents (of well behaved children who were NOT using the eating area as their own personal jungle gym) ran over to see if he was okay.

Concerned Parents: Are you okay? Is he okay?

They look at me, probably wondering why I didn't rush right over too.

Me: I don't feel sorry for him. I TOLD him not to climb on the bench.

I am not sure I have EVER received such horrid looks in my life. And yes, after that I DID go pick the kid up off the floor. I admit that I didn't really want to though.

Despite a little road construction the rest of the trip down went pretty seamlessly.

Friday we went to the zoo for my niece AK's first birthday. We saw the rhinos. A-Boy said they were dinosaurs. They kinda look like dinosaurs. A-Boy was afraid to use the drinking fountain because he didn't want to be eaten by the lion. Uncle Jeff and Uncle Dave held his mouth open for him though. They are such tough guys.

We took ten million pictures of my mom with her grandkids. The kids did not hold still.

I have to admit something to you though. I lied in my earlier post. I DID cry during our trip, I didn't even make it a day! I think it warranted crying though. I lost my wallet at the zoo! I was in line getting ready to order lunch when I realized that I couldn't find it. I searched and searched and it was nowhere to be found. I got all panicky when I realized that I was in Utah for a week! How was I going to pay for stuff? I started freaking out and my extremely intelligent mother told me to go to lost and found. So I did, crying all the way there. They had my wallet. I was disappointed to see that there was no money in it though. There was no money in it BEFORE but I was kinda hoping that the finder of the wallet would add an extra fiver or something. You know, give a kid a break. Ha, Ha. Glad I found it though!

To celebrate I bought a double cheeseburger, french fries, nachos, a hot dog kids meal and a Diet Coke. And I pretty much ate them all myself, even the hot dog. I'm not lying. Ask my sister. I could see the sickened look in her eyes as I chowed. Ah, medicating myself with food.

That night we had a birthday party for AK. She is cute, eh?

My kids held a screamfest during dinner in honor of AK's special day. It was so wonderfully special. Apparently when they are hungry they want to eat NOW, not after the 39 seconds it takes their mother to retrieve a yogurt and a spoon. I didn't want the mess, so I spoon fed them both. And yes they are on the floor. All the chairs were being inhabited by big people. (I hesitate to call them adults though since when my family is around each other we automatically revert back to being five years old)

My nephew J, also referred to as the Carrier Monkey, infected my boys with runny noses and coughs when we got there. This is a long standing tradition he has. If he hears we are coming he spends extra time licking the toys at the church nursery and sucking on shopping cart handles so that he is SURE that he will be sick when he sees us. I think dripping snot is the way he shows his love. He loves us a lot.

The boys all had a great time together, besides the whole sickness thing.

They hid in the family room curtains.

They hung out in Uncle Jeff's truck.

They took turns pulling all the wipes out of the container. They were even polite about it. "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you...." A-boy taught J how to jump on the couch and the beds. His aunt and uncle were extremely happy about that.

Mini-Man learned to do this while we were gone.

He hasn't stopped moving since then. It makes me tired just to watch him.

We took the boys to the petting zoo where A-Boy screamed like a wee girl every time any kind of animal would look in his direction. I made him touch a goat. He wailed and begged to go home. I was so disgusted at his lack of enthusiasm that I didn't take any pictures of him. I wish I would have though. Good blackmail for later in life. The upside is that he will probably never ask to have a pet. I pray that I am that lucky.

Mini-Man on the other hand had a ball. In the middle of dealing with A-Boy's meltdown I turned to see him sitting in his stroller surrounded by goats. They were licking his hands and toes and he was giggling. A little disgusting, but still cute. HE will probably be the one that wants a pet and if things continue in the same direction he will torture his brother with it.

The best part of the trip (besides spending time with family that I dearly love, of course) was the Kenny Chesney concert. I won't bore you with details, but I'll just say we had ROCKIN' seats and had the time of our lives. Seriously it was the best concert I have ever been to. He is a GREAT performer. I laughed, I cried, I screamed so loud I lost my voice. It was worth the no-sleep-for-a-week for that concert. It was rockin' cool. And I sound like a teenager.

When we got home real life hit again. I have two major projects going on right now that need to be completed by Wednesday night. We are leaving again Thursday for another week, this time to spend time with Greg's side of the family in the cool mountain air. I am told there are lots of mosquitoes. I am not excited about that part but I will deal. Hopefully I will get a chance to blog one more time before we go. I gotta get it in you know. We are going to be roughing it in the mountains. I hear that where we are going they only have dial-up.

Seriously Now.

I would like nothing more than to sit down and write a nice pretty little blog for ya'll. I've got so much going on right now that I want to cry so it's not going to happen for a couple more days.

Boo!! Hiss!

I promise that as soon as I have a free moment I will do it. For now, go read through some archived stuff. You will find out interesting things about me, like the reason I don't like minivans. (the HORROR!)

A Tiny Morsel of My "Vacation" With the Kids

Chain Reactions. They lived it, they loved it. An example from 2:53 am on Friday:


A-Boy (still asleep): Cough, cough.

Mini-Man: WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!

A-Boy: Who, What, HUH?

Mini-Man: WAAAAAHHHH!!!!

A-Boy: WAAAAAAHHH!!!!!

Mommy: Shhhh. Go back to sleep!

They do not go back to sleep. I go to Mini-Man's crib to comfort him. He is inconsolable and I am EXHAUSTED so I bring him to bed with me. I kick something warm and squishy as I am crawling back into bed. A-Boy pops up and smiles at me.

A-Boy (who has NO clue how to whisper, especially at 2 am): HI MOMMA!!!

Mommy: Shhhh. Go back to sleep!

From the next room: WAAAAHH!!!!!!

A-Boy: BABY J! BABY J!

Mommy: Yes, you woke him up. Shhh. Go back to sleep!

I lay down with Mini-Man and attempt to get him to sleep so that I can sleep too. I have a boy on each side of me. A-Boy pops his little head up over my shoulder.

A-Boy: HI BABY!!

Mini-Man: Goo Goo. Giggle Giggle.

Mommy: Shhh. Go back to sleep!

They both lay back down. Mini-Man pops his head up over my shoulder.

Mini-Man: Giggle Giggle. Babble Babble.

He attempts to crawl over me in an effort to poke his older brother.

A-Boy: HA, HA. HA, HA! MOMMA! BABY CUTE!

Mommy: No, he is NOT cute. Mini-Man, NO. Shhh. Go back to sleep!

They both lay down. Less than a minute later:

From the next room: WAAAAH!!!!

A-Boy: TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR! WAA WA WA WA WA WA WA.

Mommy: A-Boy, NO!!!! Shhh. Go back to sleep!

It is silent. Ahh. Finally. I can sleep.

Two minutes later:

Mini-Man: WAAAAAHH!!!

A-Boy: LENNY, TUCK AND MING-MING TOO! WHAT'S GONNA WORK? TEEEEEWORK!

From the next room: WAAAAAHHH!!!!

A-Boy: BABY J! BABY J!!!

Mommy (teeth clenched at this point): SHHH! GO TO SLEEP!!!

This goes on for about 2 1/2 hours. I'm thinking that they'll at least sleep in, right? WRONG. At 5:51 am:

A-Boy (two inches away from my face): MOMMA!!!!!! MILK, PLEASE! MOMMA!

Mommy: Shhh. Go to sleep.

Mini-Man: WAAAAAAAHHH!

From the next room: WAAAAAHH!!

A-Boy: BABY J! BABY J! MILK, PLEASE MOMMA?

Mini-Man: Giggle Giggle. Babble Babble.

A-Boy: MINI-MAN! YAY! HI MINI-MAN! BABY J! BABY J! MILK, MOM! PLEASE?

Repeat this nearly 6 consecutive nights, throw in a couple snotty noses and some necessary middle-of-the-night DVD viewings by my 11 month old and you will have pretty much summed up my slumberless nights. Other than being tired we have had a fantabulous time! We are ready to get home though. We are heading back tomorrow, which is a good thing since tomorrow is the day I run out of undies.

Did I mention I handled things just fine? No crying or nothin'. I didn't even have the urge. Take THAT, rude person who said I couldn't handle it.

See Ya Later, Alligator!

Well, as of Thursday I am going to be staying with my brother in Utah doing the whole Visit The Family thing. Well, that and I am going to the Kenny Chesney concert. Wahoo! I'm pretty excited about the trip, but nervous too since I am taking both boys BY MYSELF for an ENTIRE WEEK with no husband. That might not seem that much to you, but to me? HUGE. It's huge!

Greg helps a lot around here. I haven't given them a bath in....I don't even know how long. I am not even sure where to begin! And don't even get me started on how nervous I am for the whole bedtime routine since we are all three going to be in the same room. I have no idea how to keep them quiet so that the other one doesn't wake up. Duct tape? Threats? Somehow I don't think that will stop either of them. They like to prey on the weak (me). They smell fear.

It isn't just that I am doing it alone though. It's hard to be away from home with kids, period. It is exhausting. It makes me tired just thinking about it. If they throw their noodles on the floor at home I don't feel ONE twinge of guilt if I leave it on the floor for a half hour before attempting to remove it. But at someone else's house? No way. Especially at my pregnant and very sanitary sister-in-law's house. I love her. I don't want her to judge me and think I am a lazy bum who doesn't know how to clean. I DO know, I just don't care sometimes.

So here are my somewhat lofty goals for the week ahead:

--I will not get overwhelmed when both kids are wailing while I am trying to make lunch, change multiple diapers and shower at the same time.

--I will take things one at a time as to avoid the above-mentioned scene. But if I have to multitask, which duh, I will, I will do so with gusto.

--I will take deep breaths when I notice I am getting frustrated. This should assist in curbing any desire to Royally Freak Out on my dear, sweet and innocent children.

--I will not try to do everything. I will accept help from others and not pretend I am Superwoman with magical powers. Even Superwoman knows when she needs a break, methinks.

--There will be no weeping. This one is big for me. I always end up crying when I am away from Greg for long periods of time. I am a huge, huge baby in this department. This is why I didn't marry someone in the military like my sister. I am WAY too stingy to let my husband serve our country. I whine when he has to go on overnight camping trips with the scouts. I hate when he has to go to work at 8:00 am. I just like him around. Not only is he great with the kids, he is nice. Plus he is hot. And he helps out. And he is smart. And funny. *sigh* I miss him already.

I am pretty nervous about this whole thing, if you can't tell. Ten to twelve hours in the car with two kids, one of which is gonna have to crane his neck to see the dvd player in the car and will therefore be unhappy. (Rear facing carseat..oh the things we do to keep our children safe) I bought all sorts of snacks for the road, I am planning to bring an umbrella stroller that the non-walker can lounge in while I pee at a random truck stop along the way. Hopefully I've got the car covered.

The rest of the trip should be okay if I can figure out the logistics of the nap and nightime routines. Hopefully the kids will be so exhausted from playing with their little cousins all day that they will just crash at night. Could I be that lucky? PRAY that I get that lucky.

Have a good time while I am gone, be good and try not to miss me. I won't be blogging for about a week so you'll have to find something else to obsess over, Jamie and Alicia. Ha ha.

Have a fantastic week!

Emlouisa

Do You Wanna Come Over and Play Barbies?

First off, I apologize for the weirdly-sized pics. I am in a love/hate relationship with Blogger and lately the hate part of it seems to be taking over. Could it BE any more annoying and slow? Seriously Blogger People, this is absolutely ridiculous.

Anyway, I'm a day late here. You still love me, right?

This MLM we are talking about our favorite childhood toys. I had three things to choose from: Barbies, Babysitter's Club Books or my Cabbage Patch Kids. I chose Barbie, of course. She always HAS been Miss Popularity.

Ah, Barbie. How I loved her with her poseable arms and legs and her Triple D Cups. We spent HOURS together. We loved together, we laughed together, we cried together.

My very first Barbie was Malibu Barbie, pictured to the left. Not the essence of coolness in the eyes of a 4 or 5 year old since Malibu Barbie only came with an ugly swimming suit. Since to "play Barbies" we spent the majority of our time deciding what our Barbie should wear, the swimming suit just didn't work.

My sisters and I had a TON of Barbie clothes. The envy of the neighborhood, even. We would seperate all our Barbie clothes into different categories (eveningwear, beachwear, sleepwear, play clothes, etc), then take turns choosing which ones would be added to our Barbie's wardrobe. We would name them things like "Jessica", "Claudia", "Amanda" or "Tiffany". My Grandma made big poofy dresses (like the one Malibu is wearing) for our Barbies to wear to prom and other black tie events (or pink and purple tie events, since Ken's tuxes were too cool for black ties). These were always the first things to go in the wardrobe shopping.

These little Nod-to-the-Eighties Outfits were usually my first choice. And you can't see in this picture, but Ken has a hole in his left earlobe. I poked a straight pin into it so that he had an earring. I'm sure my mom was excited about that.

Speaking of Ken, I once had a Ken with black hair. Yeah. I know. COOL. NO one had a black-haired Ken. Then one day my friend Stacy was trying to pull him out of the pink Barbie convertible and POP! His head popped right off. I was LIVID. Friendship-ending livid. I chased her out of the house and told her never to come back. HOW could she ever break my black-haired Ken? Did she not care about me at ALL? And I could just hear my mom when she found out, "This is why we don't have nice things!" I cried for DAYS. My mom finally talked me into accepting her apology but I'm not sure I ever let her touch my Barbies again.

This beat-up looking Barbie was the second one I ever owned. She has a short neck because her head was torn off as well, but since I was the one that did it I couldn't be too upset about the whole thing. She was the "pretty" Barbie before the beheading. Afterwards, the dorky Barbie. The one that always got the "ugly stepsister" rolls. Poor, poor Neckless Barbie. She is wearing of my favorite dresses that my grandma made. I picked it out myself and I thought it was BEAUTIFUL.

We had Barbie Cars, Barbie Furniture, even a big ole Barbie House. We played with Barbies every single day and loved it. Barbie was glamourous. After spending a while looking through all my old Barbies I realized something. There is a REASON we spent all our "playing Barbies" time trying to figure out what they were going to wear. It's because it takes HOURS to actually dress them! Maybe it is easier with small, nimble fingers but I doubt it. So if I learned anything from Barbie besides a skewed view of what a woman should look like: Hand-eye coordination, baby. At least that is something.

Five Things I Have Learned This Week.

---I am not cool with stepping on cold, wet noodles when I have bare feet. Really people. It's disgusting. And I know you know what I am talking about. You are busy in the kitchen and all the sudden, Ew. There is something slimey on your foot. What the heck is it????? You freak out, thinking that maybe it's a worm or some other type of creepy crawly thing. You realize that it is just a noodle but it is still gross. Ew! Since Mini-Man is in the "Throw Everything Off Of My Tray" eating stage the stepping on food thing is happening with regularity. I hate it. I hate cleaning the floor fifty times a day, I hate when I DON'T clean it because it looks awful and I step on stuff. And really, is there a good way to clean wet noodles off the floor? Sweeping them is impossible because they stick. They leave streaks-o-noodle across the floor. Today I resorted to picking them up one by one. A good solution, but only when I have 3 hours and 25 minutes to pick up noodles. My kid throws a lot of noodles. When is this stage over again???

---Never trim a bush alone. Or at least take a step back while trimming, maybe even a deep breath every now and then. Our flowering cherry bush needed trimming. It was HUGE and I was afraid we were going to have an Audrey II on our hands. No one likes an Audrey II.
I went a little overboard. My poor, poor seven-foot-tall bush is now about two feet tall and consists of branches. No leaves, just branches. I am told by someone wise that it will grow back. I'm praying it will because not only am I feeling guilty, I'm feeling stupid. Even too embarrassed to post a picture. Poor, poor bush.

---It is time for a new look. Not only on my blog, but on ME. Tuesday I went in for a haircut. I told my hairstylist I was tired of my hair, I have too much of it and I need something new. I told her I didn't care what she did, just make it look good. "Do you trust me?" she said. GULP. "Yes," I replied. "Do you care if it is short?" she says. "Um...no." She turned my chair so I couldn't see in the mirror and began hacking away. I watched my hair fall into big mounds on the floor. Tons of it. I tried not to be nervous. She finished up and turned me around. I liked it. I still like it.

Before and After

The only thing I'm worried about now is that I won't be recognized. DYM told me that the blogGirls knew who I was when they first saw me because of my 'shroom like head of hair. Okay, she didn't actually say 'shroomlike hair but we all knew that is what she meant.

---For a real workout, use your kids. Greg left for work at an extremely early time on Wednesday. (8:30am. I know. We suck.) so I had to take the kids with me when I went running. No problem, I thought. I can totally do the 24-minutes-in-a-row thing that I've got going on this week, even with kids in tow. (24 minutes without stopping? GO, ME!!! WAHOO!) I have a nice, light double jogger but DANG. I was winded even before I got up to a run. I ran for about 5 minutes before I had to give up. I'm thinking that after I can do the 25-minute-run for a couple of weeks I might start taking the kids with me. Then when I actually run the 5k it would be CAKE. But, maybe not. I kinda like running sans kids. It's a stress reliever and I don't have to spend the whole time feeling guilty for cranking my iPod to the point that I can't hear when they talk to me. *insert embarrassed emoticon here*

---I am not as smart as I have led people to believe. Greg reads magazines that say things like this: "While it may appear that the capacitance is between the two foils, it is actually between the anode foil and the electrolyte. The positive plate is the anode foil; the dielectric is the insulating aluminum oxide on the anode foil; the true negative plate is the conductive electrolyte; and the cathode foil merely connects to the electrolyte."

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Who what huh? Sorry. That was so boring that I fell asleep. Thank you Electronic Products Magazine for reminding me to get some better reading material for when I'm bored in the bathroom. A PBK catalog perhaps? And I have to wonder. Does Greg really enjoy reading that or does he just put it in there so that I think he is smart. Hmm...

So there you have it. All the wisdom I have gained this week and then some. Hope you have a fantabulous weekend full of excitement and wonder.

Psst...Husbands. I Can Help!

Is your wife cranky? Tired? Are you still paying for royally screwing up Mother's Day? Good news! You can fix it!

Are you ready for this life changing experience? Are you sure?

Two words that have the power to change your life: Sticky Notes.

That's right. Sticky notes. Before you go to work in the morning write a sticky note similar to this (except use your wife's name in place of "Emily". That would be extremely bad form) and put it where you know your wife will see. Later on in the day she will be making lunch for a couple of whiney kids when BOOM. She opens the microwave and finds your note. She smiles. The kids are less annoying and she doesnt' feel the need to throttle them. She keeps that smile for the rest of the day.

When you get home she is extremely happy to see you. Maybe even a little willing to *ahem* be romantic after the kids go to bed.

The next day leave her a couple more notes.

She will be busy throwing things in the washing machine, she will open the cupboard and BOOM. There is a note on the Tide. It says, "Have a Great Day" so, she does. She smiles, and keeps that smile for the rest of the day.

And when you get home she is extremely happy to see you. Maybe even a little willing to *ahem* be romantic after the kids go to bed.

You see a pattern starting to form here? Yeah, so did my husband. And so did I. This one TINY little gesture has totally added the spark back in our marriage. I think of him more often during the day. I am nicer. I smile more. I try harder to be a better wife. Did I mention how crazy wonderful my husband is? It's true, he is. Love that guy.

So husbands, try it. It takes two seconds, what is there to lose? And don't use the "I can't do it because my wife told me to do it so now if I do it she will only think that I'm doing it because she told me to do it" excuse. Not only is it lame, it is confusing. Besides, your wife didn't tell you to do it. *I* told you to do it. Don't shoot the messenger.


Hint, hint: If you click on the envelope on the bottom right hand side of the page it will allow you to email this post to someone.

The New Look

It's a work in progress but I think it's getting there! And yes, I will be changing the ugly header.

Yay or nay on the new look? Is it hard to read the text? Be honest with me people.

Does That Come In Extra Small?

This week's My Life Monday I got strict orders from Rachelle to take a picture of something (not somebody) that represents part of who I am. Rachelle is SUCH a slavedriver. This was hard.

I thought all week long about what I could take a picture of. (Wow, great English there, how you likin' THAT Mrs. English Teacher Lady!) I thought about taking a picture of the six different kinds of diet soda that takes up an entire shelf in my fridge. We like variety here, and also we like our diet soda. I thought about taking a picture of my kitchen since I spend so. much. friggin'. time. cleaning it everyday. HOW can it get so messy so fast? I need a maid.

In the end I decided to go a different direction. So breathe deep and try to be a bit more serious, will ya? Here is what represents part of who I am:

This is what A-Boy was wearing when he came home from the hospital, 30 days after he was born. Thirty of the longest days of my life. It is about 15 inches long and so incredibly tiny that I get tears in my eyes each and every time I see it. It is amazing to me that he was so small.

Six weeks before A-Boy's due date, I started to feel sharp pains in my chest, I downed the Maalox, thinking it was just bad pizza and tried to go to bed. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't lay down without feeling like I couldn't breathe. Nothing was making me feel better. Hours later I finally got on my knees and asked Heavenly Father what I should do. The SECOND I started praying I heard, "Go to the hospital. NOW!" That was good enough for me! Off we went.

My chest pains turned out to be my kidney and liver shutting down. I had severe pre-eclampsia and HELLP Syndrome and ended up having an emergency c-section. Within a matter of hours I went from being a happy expectant mother with no problems to almost dying and nearly losing the precious baby that had lived inside of me for all those months. I was terrified.

A-Boy was born, weighing 3 lbs 14 oz, 17 1/2 inches long. I saw him for about 30 seconds that I remember that day, then they rushed him to the NICU. He did well that first day, but by the second day he was having a tough time breathing on his own. He was put on a ventilator which helped him to breathe but also tore a hole in his underdeveloped lungs. They gave him two chest tubes, then put him on a high frequency ventilator that wasn't so forceful.

It was a hard thing to see my little baby with wires and tubes and who knows what else. He would bat at the tube in his mouth, trying to take it out. The doctor finally decided to medically paralyze him so that he could use his energy to get better instead of using it to fight. It was hard to watch him just lying there, unable to move. I wanted to pick him up, rock him, hold him but I couldn't. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry that my body failed us both. I wanted to take him away from there.

A-Boy slowly got better. Soon he was opening his eyes, looking around. He knew our voices. I got to hold him when he was 15 days old, his ventilator tubing strapped to my arm with masking tape. It was one of the best moments of my life, holding that kid. A few days after that he started breathing on his own. We got to take him home when he was exactly 1 month old.

I learned so much about myself through this experience. I learned that I am not as strong as I thought I was. I struggled with my faith. I got angry, I got upset. My cheeks were tear-stained at least once every day. I realized which people in my life I could count on, and which people I could not. I learned sensitivity. I was humbled.

This little yellow outfit represents so many things to me. A new life. Miracles. Hope. Faith, and sometimes lack of faith. It reminds me to look for the sun through the clouds, even if I know the forecast is cloudy with a chance of rain.

The day we brought A-Boy home was one of the best days of my life. To know that we almost lost him made us appreciate and love him that much more. It's a wonderful gift, this motherhood thing. Some days I wonder if it is worth everything I sacrifice, then I look at my two beautiful kids.

It is. It SO is.

Pardon The Mess.

I'm redesigning. Hopefully I'll be done by Sunday.

Five Things I Have Learned This Week

---My 10 month old is a total genius. Well, maybe not a genius to just anyone, but to me? A genius. He said his first word this week. And it was...drumroll...his brother's name. Yep. The cutest thing I have ever seen, except for maybe this picture. Krispy Krap I mean Kreme should pay me a lot of money for this, don't you think? Yeah, me too.

---Once you have children you should always check your water bottles for floaties before taking a sip. I drank half a bottle today before I looked down and realized that there were remnants of...something in it. The sad part is that this is the second time that has happened in TWO days. You'd think I'd learn. Either that or just suck it up and drink it anyway. I'm hoping I'll learn since I don't like chewing my water.

---The Dixie Chicks new album? At the risk of sounding like a high schooler and/or Napoleon Dynamite: It is totally sweet. I love it. There is not one bad song on it and each one is better than the last. I am glad they are back. I have missed them. I thought I was the only one, but apparently I am not. Good job, ladies.

---You should never put your kid in swim diapers BEFORE you drive to the waterpark. Both of my kids peed on the way there. We (Greg) had to strip the carseats down to their nekidness so we could wash the covers. (Yay for Britax and their cute removable covers!) Hopefully the pee smell leaves my car soon or it is going to be a very LONG and very stinky summer.

---I have good friends. That's all. I learned this week how much they care about me. They have a fantastic way of making me feel loved and valued. I hope they all realize how much they mean to me. Love you guys!

Memorial Day Weekend 2006

HELLO!!!! Yup, I am back from a LONG weekend. I had planned to write a fabulous entry sometime this weekend but ended up taking a nap each day instead. Nice, but I always wish I didn't due to the pounding headache I have when I wake up. We refer to it as the "Sunday Headache" in our house since we usually get the headache during our Sunday afternoon nap. (If we actually have time to take one)

Do kids get Sunday Headaches? Maybe that's why they're so ornery when they wake up. Hmm.

We had a good weekend, not counting the Sunday Headache thing. Friday Greg and I had a hot date stained our fence. It was a lot of work, but fun. I have decided that most household projects are much more fun when we do them together. Not only do we get things done in half the time, but we get to actually have conversations. We tease each other, we slap each other on the butt. It's great! I feel closer to him when we work side by side. It's not exactly fawning over each other at a romantic restaurant, but hey, I'll take it.

Saturday it was freezing cold and rained a lot, most likely ruining all the work we did Friday night, but whatever. We got tired of watching our money being drenched in water, so we set up our three-man tent in the family room and hung out in there for a while. That night we took the kids out for Italian. We sat next to two different teenaged couples that were out on dates and resisted the urge to go to their tables when we were finished to say, "You see, THIS is what happens when you have sex." pointing at our unruly children. We also entertained the option of letting our kids sit with them while they ate so that it would have a nice, lasting affect on them. In the end, we did neither. But we did think about it.

After dinner we met Greg's sisters at our house for dessert and some lively game-playing. Before we had toddler-sized children we did this quite a lot but have since stopped because we are all old, tired people that can't stomach staying out past 8:30pm. We lived dangerously this weekend and they stayed until at least 10pm. We played Cranium Whoonu and I highly recommend it. We were all four giggling like schoolgirls. Yes, including Greg. Good times!

Sunday we went to church, took a Sunday nap that gave us Sunday Headaches, then the boys played in our still-constructed three-man tent while I made a potato salad and a macaroni salad, de-vined the grapes, cut up a pineapple and cut celery sticks for snacking. By the time I finished making everything and cleaning up I was DONE being in the kitchen. We had a very lame dinner of...I don't even know. The kids had rice or something equally as boring that I pulled out of the fridge.

Monday morning I went running. And--get this--you are going to be so proud of me. I ran for 21 minutes without stopping!!! Yep. Me. Twenty-one minutes. The girl who couldn't even run TWO minutes without puking my guts out. I still have no idea how I did it. When asked later I said very "athletic" types of things like, "I just hit the wall and went right through it." and "I pushed through the pain and then it was easy". Check me out. I am COOL.

Around noon we went to a BBQ with some friends. It was cold, but bearable unless the wind was blowing. A-Boy helped himself to the watermelon, then kept putting the rinds back in the bowl when he was finished. I'm sure everyone appreciated that. Mini-Man spent the whole time delirious, having skipped his morning nap. We ate greasy hot dogs and reminded ourselves of why we love the fat free kind. We chatted with friends, met new ones. It was a lot of fun!

After naps we went to Greg's sister's house to shoot the breeze in her beautifully landscaped backyard. A nice, relaxing afternoon.

We had a great weekend, but I couldn't help but feel guilty for not being where I thought I should be. For as long as I remember my mom's side of the family has gotten together at the cemetary on Memorial Day. We clean the bird poop off the headstones and put flowers on the graves of loved ones. Grandma tells stories about those who have passed before us. Elouise, who got hit by a car when she was in her teens. Uncle Newt, who I am told I was the spitting image of when I was three. (We were both bald.) and finally my Grandpa. He died when I was 12. I don't remember a whole lot about him, but the memories I do have make me smile. When I pulled the ligaments in my leg he promised he would whittle me a new one. He rubbed me with his whiskers when I gave him a kiss. He always said I could have a cookie when i was too scared to ask Grandma.

My memories of Grandpa are towards the very end of his life on earth, after many strokes. His talking was slurred, his movement was slow and deliberate. The body he had didn't seem to fit the spirit he had inside, he was all spunk. I can't wait to sit down with him after I die and find out who he REALLY is.

This is one of the reasons I why I don't like living so far away from my family. It always seems silly to me to drive 9 hours just to put flowers on graves, yet every year, not matter how much fun I am having I always miss it.

May we all set aside some time to think about those who have gone before us. Happy Belated Memorial Day!

You've Got a Friend In Me!

This is A-Boy. He is 2 1/2 years old.

This is A-Boy with his best friends Buzz and Woody.

He traps them in this dishwasher basket.

(along with anything else that can "fit")

Where A-Boy goes, Buzz and Woody go.

Here they are chillin' in Mom's makeup drawer.

Sometimes Buzz and Woody get to travel in style via Backpack.

And sometimes they get hang with Horse and Cow in a blue bucket with a rabbit on it.

On bad days, they are attacked by flesh-consuming rubber bands.

The HORROR!

They accompany A-Boy as he dines.

Buzz and Woody occasionally disguise themselves as eating utensils.

(which is why Mom is grateful for the dishwasher basket)

Mostly though, they plot their escape.

Apparently it is easier to do that while standing on remote controls.

Attempts to sneak out via the central vacuum system were thwarted by a red Jello Jiggler that has been encrusted inside one of the plugs for at least 3 1/2 months.

And every so often they risk their very lives to escape over the back fence and into the jungles of the pocket park behind our house. Luckily A-Boy has a very attentive Mommy who checks the fence every night for escapees.

Did I mention they are polite? They are. They say please and thank you. They ask if the other one is "okay" if they fall, then they rescue them.

Yes, we love Buzz and Woody at our house.

And my kid is stinkin' cute.

Blog Train Sounding Louder...

.....Glide On The Blog Train! Seriously, who doesn't get that song stuck in their head for days at a time? Oh. You don't listen to the Best Hits of the Sixties and Seventies eight hours a day like I do. Hmm.

What's WRONG with you?

So I have been thinking lately about blogging and the whole internet thang. This is probably spurred by some well-meaning friends who were worried that I was sharing private details of my life online and would therefore be tracked down and harrassed by some pervert. I wondered if maybe they were right. Maybe I shouldn't be doing this! I started thinking about why I blog and what I have learned over these past 5 months. Here is what I have come up with:

---It is my journal. I have tried to keep a regular journal for YEARS but haven't been able to do so. The last entry is May 6, 2004. It is about 2 paragraphs long and not only is it extremely boring, it is not finished. Having an "audience" waiting for me to make my next entry makes me accountable. Plus I save my blog on the computer and I am planning to print it out and put it in a book for my kids. I would have NEVER written so consistently or so detailed if I didn't blog. I'm excited for my kids to get older and read it. I want them to know who "Mom" really was while they were growing up.

---It is my creative outlet. Sometimes I feel that being a stay-at-home mom has turned my mind into mush. When I finished writing my first "real" blog I was AMAZED at how I felt. It was like I actually used the creative part of my brain. I had to THINK about things instead of just DO things. I had to use real English, remember all the parts of speech and how to write. (I still have issues with that, haha) I had not written anything for so long and it was nice to get back into it. I was giddy with excitement and couldn't wait to write the next one. It was love at first blog, haha.

---It is MINE. It's MY blog, not my husband's, my kids' or anyone else's. A place where I can go to be me, write about what I want and the way I feel about things. I have discovered so much about myself through blogging. What I like, what I don't like. I never realized that I could be witty. That was a nice realization. It makes me feel good to know that people occasionally smile when they read my stuff. I like making people happy, even if it just for a few moments. (Jeez, I'm such a friggin' people pleaser)

---It is a way to share our lives with my friends and family. Lotsa people have told me how much they enjoy reading it because they feel like they actually know what is going on in our lives. Most of our family and a lot of our friends live far away and I am sure it is a lot more enjoyable for them to read than it would be for them to listen to my jabbering on the phone. In real life I am constantly forgetting punchlines and trailing off midsentence. No one likes that!


There would be so much I would miss if I stopped blogging. I would miss the writing, I would miss reading your comments, I would miss visiting other blogs, I would miss thinking, "Oooh, that is SO bloggable!" whenever a good idea came along. Pretty much I would find a corner, curl up in a little ball and start a rockin'. Blogging is truly something that I look forward to every day. Something that makes me so happy cannot be a bad thing.

The internet has definitely changed the face of the world. I'm convinced though that it is a good thing, and that the good parts of it outweigh the bad. Yes, there are psychos, creeps and all things weird but there are also nice, good, decent people just like me. Because of that, I'm not going to stop the Blog Train anytime soon.

Blog on, people. BLOG ON.

Emily Emily Bo Bemily Banana Fana Fo Femily....

Fee Fi Mo Memily....EMILY.

This week's My Life Monday is about my name and why my parents chose it. Here's the skinny on the name situation:

My name was going to be Katie. My mom's very good friend was pregnant at the same time she was and wanted to name her daughter Kathrine. They had a little competition and the one who had their baby first got the name. Kathrine was born nine days before I was. And we were best friends from the time we were born until I turned into a wretched 'tween looking for friends in all the wrong places.

My mom was okay with losing the name for two reasons: 1) She always knew there was going to be an Emily in the family. In fact, my sister Lori was supposed to be Emily, but when they saw her for the first time the name didn't seem to fit. And 2) Katie was the name of my grandmother's ill-tempered stepmother. My grandma would have never forgiven my mother if she named her child after "That Woman". And really, who wants to cheese off Grandma? Not me. She's one tough cookie.

So all in all it was a good thing that I was named Emily. I like my name, I like the way it flows and I like the non-funky spelling. I like how in Utah people pronounce it like Emly, with no i.

These days I share my name with lots of pint-sized Emilys. I don't really enjoy that part because I think I am getting yelled at all the time. In church I hear, "Emily BE QUIET!" and I think it is for me.

Not even my own family is safe. I married into a family with an Emily already in it. She was 6 or 7 when I joined their crazy brood. Her brothers and sisters called me Big Emily and their sister Little Emily. I was not a fan of this either so when we got married I said, "Guess what kids! I'm your aunt now so you don't have to call me Big Emily anymore! Guess what you get to call me?" The kids thought about it hard, then said, "Big Aunt?" Yes, children. Call me Big Aunt. Just what any woman wants to be called.

So there is the story of my name. Semi short, semi sweet. (are you proud of the shortness? I am giddy with glee!) If you are curious about my middle name or lack thereof, please see this post.

Oh, What A Night!

Yup. Last night was THE night. I got to meet a bunch of fellow mommy bloggers! Hooray! I had a fabulous time and haven't shut up about it since. It's true! Ask Greg! Could I use any more exclamation points!!!

You can read this on about 13 other sites that are guaranteed to be more fascinating than this story, but here is how the evening went for me:

I was so nervous! I stressed about what to wear. I even went shopping and bought a new shirt for the occasion. (which, when I put it on right before I left made me feel extremely MOMish and mature. Eek! I dealt with my issues by taking deep breaths and telling myself that I AM a mom, so it was okay that I looked mature. Plus, really, it goes with my Mom Haircut.)

Alicia and Taffi went with me. We rode together so that we wouldn't have to go in alone, and most of the other bloggers came together in another group. I realized that we are not far removed from the whole junior-high-going-to-the-bathroom-when-your-friend-does thing. Safety in numbers, baby! You never know when someone is going to flip your bra strap or depants you.

The evening started off well. Nervous laughter, polite chatter, etc. We had nametags. We introduced ourselves. Queen Beth spilled stuff, so did I. We ate a lot of yummy italian food. Karen got stuff in her teeth. Alicia and Heather played the "Don't I Know You From Somewhere?" game all night long. I'm not sure if they ever figured it out. We took a lot of pictures at the restaurant that I won't bother posting since there will be 4,000 duplicates. You'll have to check out everyone else's pages for the play-by-play.

In order for everyone to get a chance to chat we switched seats every 10 minutes or so. That made for some crafty manuevering since we had to carry our food and drinks with us. I held onto my plate tightly since I didn't want to be known as, Emlouisa, the girl that dumps food on her unsuspecting victims.

As the evening wore on we got a little more silly. The nervous laughter turned into cackles and fits of giggles. Maybe it was the food. We ate a lot of food. Then waitress tried to overcharge us. Karen challenged her to a duel. Karen won. Go Karen!

We finished eating and exited the restaurant but no one wanted the night to end! We were having so much fun! (Plus it was only 9pm. The night was young!) So Mary dazzled us with her fashion sense while we tried to figure out where to take our adventure. Mary is a babe!

We wanted to preserve the memories of the evening with something tangible so we loaded up into minivans and headed to the local Wally World. Par-TAY!!!

A teenaged boy in the parking lot tried to give us this. We said no thanks. He was insistent until I snapped this picture and told him that he was "SO going to be on the internet". He seemed confused, maybe a little freaked out and left us alone. Poor kid.


We checked out the jewelry section and picked out BFF (Best Friends Forever, silly!) necklaces. Check out how deep in thought we were about these things. Seriously, we spent MINUTES trying to find just the perfect memento of our time together.

We finished up and I remembered that I had to buy an onion. The girls patiently waited while I found the perfect one. Especially Kathryn. It must be one of her Daring Good Traits.

Me and my onion. Sunday dinner is going to be awesome!

So that was our night. We had a blast. My little necklace is now hanging around my webcam, there to remind me of a fabulous evening with some fabulous ladies.

It was great to meet each and every one of them. They are fantastic bloggers, and even more fantastic in person. Not a dud among them. So thanks for letting us crash your party, girls. I'll be adding you all to my blogroll very very soon.

Top Left: Karlie, Mom on a Wire; Heather, One Woman's World; Beth, Her Majesty's Throne; April, Your Stitchery Friend; Taffi, One More Thing To Do; Emily (me) Alicia Growing Spuds

Bottom Left: Kathryn Daring Young Mom; Karen The Big Trade-off; Mary Owl Haven Erin (Kathryn's non blogger friend); Stephanie, Princess Mom; Stephanie's non blogger friend (I don't remember her name! Sorry!); Brooke, ABC Momma.

Aren't we HOT??

Five Things I Have Learned This Week

---You should always check your receipt before leaving the store. This is how I realized that the cashier charged $52.46 for those Tomatoes-On-The-Vine. I knew they were pricey suckers, but I didn’t realize they were THAT pricey! I examined them to make sure they weren’t dipped in gold or diamond encrusted. Sure enough, they were regular tomatoes. Not even fab-looking tomatoes, just normal, most-likely-very-mealy store-bought tomatoes. It turns out that the cashier entered the wrong code so I got my money back AND got free tomatoes. You can’t beat free tomatoes! (Well, you could but it would be rather messy)

---No one will spontaneously combust if we don’t turn on the TV. I decided that my two guys were watching WAY too much television. I am embarrassed to say that most of the time it was on from 7 am until 10 or 11 am, depending on when Mini-Man got up from his nap. And that isn’t counting watching Sesame Street or Signing Time in the afternoon.

So Tuesday we didn’t turn it on. They played with their toys ALL MORNING LONG. A-Boy (who I was worried about the most) didn’t seem to care at all! My ten month old though, he cared. He saw the remote on the floor, gimpy-crawled for it (he has yet to master the crawling thing), and began punching buttons, checking the TV every so often to see if Dora had magically appeared. She didn’t. He cried. It was then that I realized that the limiting the TV thing was good. And I am proud to say that except for one day they have only watched 1 to 1 ½ hours a day. (And trust me, it was needed that day so the children avoided The Royal Freak Out from Mommy.)

---Quaker Oatmeal To Go bars are fantabulous. It’s like eating a big, thick oatmeal cookie for breakfast without the guilt since it is not CALLED an oatmeal cookie. Plus I felt full for a long time after eating it. Thumbs up to the Quaker Man.

---Our neighborhood pool is open! Nooooo!!!!! I have lost NO weight, I still have to squeeze in my swimming suit. Last year was heavenly because I was pregnant and it was okay that I looked flabby and misshapen. This year? I still look pregnant, yet there is no baby inside of this protrusion of a belly. I don’t wanna go! It’s one thing to go to the Y or the beach where you don’t know anyone, but to go to the neighborhood pool with the likes of Prague Mom? Stress!!

I still go running three times a week. I just can’t lose the weight because…honestly? I enjoy starchy, sugary, deep-fried goodness way too much. *sigh* I guess I can't have it both ways.

---I get to meet some fellow bloggers this weekend! I am super excited about the whole situation. A little nervous since I don’t know them at all, but I am bringing Taffi and Alicia for my protection just in case they turn out to be psychos. That makes me feel a little better. It’s always stressful meeting new people, especially those you know from the internet. I will return and report, hopefully with pictures worthy of blackmail.

Have a great weekend!

This Goes Out To All Ya'll.

So my dear friend Alicia posted the cutest little ditty about Yours Truly. I laughed, I cried. So go read it after you have read (and commented, of course) mine! Alicia challenged all of us to write a little Ode to our friends.

Here is mine:

Ode to MOFS

There are people I know
Okay not really but sort of
That I met on the ‘Net
It’s weird, but just kind of.

We talk about babies
And the colors they poop
We talk about anything
In our little group.

From weather to Britney
And her latest car seat concern
There is no topic off-limits
There’s so much that we learn.

I like these great women
They have all become friends
But I still am not sure
If they are dirty old men.

Join in on the fun and create your little poem!

Help!!! My Son Is Constantly Being Attacked By A Weasel!

Or at least that's what we THINK is going on. Why else would he scream and yell like that. What did you say? It could be his teeth? Oh. We gave up on the "It's probably his teeth" thing two months ago when he cried for a full WEEK, hand in mouth, drooling everywhere, refusing to eat. Nary a tooth popped. We were not happy.

But the Attacking of the Weasel has been happening quite frequently lately and since we try not to let any four-legged creatures enter our abode it is probably his teeth. Yup, we are back to that.

I DID pry open his mouth long enough today to see white on his gums so our tooth theory is quite likely to be correct. And that is good since it took me a good 15 minutes, some duct tape and a pair of pliers to get his mouth open. (I am TOTALLY kidding! I couldn't find the duct tape and the pliers were outside...) Unfortunately it is one of his canines and since he has no other teeth on the top he is going to look like a hillbilly. I'm praying that the other teeth are on their way shortly so that we don't have to sell him to a group of carnies. We want him to fit in, you know.

Anyway, so we are dealing with the teething thing here with its accompanying wails of pain and discomfort. I am hating every second of it. Shouldn't there be an easier way for babies to get teeth than sheer torture? What did they do to deserve this? Nothing, I tell you. A big fat nothing. Does this kid look like someone that needs to be in pain? It is not fair at all. Not to him and definitely NOT to his mommy.

So gimme your tips, other moms. What do you do to alleviate sore gums?