Children

I have gone through so many different emotions about how many children to have in our family. Annoyed at the prospect of waiting to add to our family. Feeling strongly like we needed to add-going through an very interesting and very hard learning experience with the State of California Foster-adoption program and then coming back around to  "we would love to add to our family" but when the right time comes we will know it-and that could be 15 years from now.

I used to feel more guilty about not having more kids. Where I live now it is very common to have families with 5+ children. And when I first moved in I felt different because our family was much smaller than that.

I think for I gave in to the lie that people who are religious and family oriented have large families. Because life is all about children and families. And that last part I do believe. I do believe Families-if you have the opportunity AND would like to have children is awesome. But I do not believe that proof of how much family is important to you relies on the number of children you have.

My perspective on what it means to have children and to parent has changed as I have become more aware and sensitive to the time and needs that my children have.

I genuinley thought at age 19 when I married that since I was married younger our family would have 5 kids by the time I was 30. Then I would dust off my hands and be done having kids and move forward with my life. I maybe would go to school, get a job, whatever that was.

That was not exactly what I wanted but for some reason I think that was expected of me. Kids and babies are the things you get out of the way before your other life begins. Like you parent them as babies and toddlers and then put them on cruise control and you go about to do your 'real' ambitions in life.

It is not true. I see now having my two (which are 19 months apart dare I say) has been a luxury. Not because some people struggle more than we have to have a family but because of the dynamic of our family and the special needs within our family-at these ages. And some of these more urgent special needs are not becoming apparent until being older.

So I am grateful now and can see why My father in Heaven helped guide our family the way he did. I am grateful that my naieve thinking didn't place an extra burden on my children because of my lack of understanding of parenting.

Parenting is Forever and I plan on doing it with a purpose.

There was a part of me that was so excited with both my kids being in school. I thought about getting a part time job somewhere just to meet people and have extra cash at hand for maybe a trip to Disneyland. But fortunately for me I knew I needed to wait a while before persuing side  hobbies if you will while the kids are at school. And now with the great deal of time I am needed at my children's school to help, for meetings etc. I am grateful I don't have other huge obligations outside my family.

I do at times daydream about having a nanny. Like a respite nanny on a weekly basis but I've learned that frozen meals vs the homemade ones and even, yes, taking your family to mcdonalds or KFC for dinner is better than lashing out at your children or husband because you have had a stressful day being "mom" and with being "mom" whatever that entails within your home.

Having a large or little amount of children is not a badge of honor or proof of how good or bad of a parent you are. How your children behave isn't necessarily either.


Sometimes being a parent sucks. I don't care what anyone says. As a parent you have basically no control over your children. You influence, care and love and create boundaries and expectations for them but any good parent cannot control their children. And sometimes not having control truly sucks in so many different ways. But a great gift that we can give children is by making concious choices, with the guidance of a loving Heavenly Father so that our families can thrive-whatever size that is. 

Crazy cat lady!

With the deathly hallows of winter loafing around the trees -I want to stand outside and in an operatic fashion sing my toil and sorrow while shaking a fist.

And lucky for my family-and my neighbors. This scenario is another chapter filed into "what I wanted to do but didn't".

My hubwah (aka merswah aka kermie) planned a couples get away to Florida. Florida! No, not for the winter but for the end of August. Yes, it was super hot but it was so awesome to get away for a while together. I have never been away from the children for that long and despite being filled with a lot-I mean a lot- of anxiety I got on the mother toting plane and road my sore bum to Florida with my man.
Luckily, despite my anxieties the trip was fairly stressful and it reminded me of all the wonderfulness of being married and having such a loving and supportive partner. Who despite my many crazies works with me to keep our great life.

 On my birthday we went to an Italian restaurant on the resort. I was feeling all fancy and ordered a virgin concoction drink and had appetizer, food, etc. And there was a trio roaming the tables  serenading guests. When asked what my favorite kind of music was I told them "Sam Cooke". They didn't know any Sam Cooke songs but whatever it was she sang melted from her and I wanted a bowl to catch it. I love music.
I am not musical. I do not sing well but I appreciate those with the talents to do it and I could have sat there staring wide grinned at her dedicated version of whatever song dripped out.

When they moved to the next table I felt myself wanting to follow them. And I giggled to myself and my merswah picturing me standing behind them singing like scully from Little Mermaid- behind their melodic voices. So awesome.  If the lights went off and a disco ball started twirling ahead with a spot light...I mean I wouldn't have complained but I most likely would have had to calm other guests...from my awesomeness. Because I pretty sure I have that affect on people.

There are so many great things on amazon. Including these cat ears.

I dont' know who thinks of this stuff but I want to shake their hand. I am not sure how many friends I would make wearing them-ok actually I can-THOUSANDS!-but for real wut? (I say wut not what because it makes me sound smarter by the way).

Have you seen "THE OTHER WOMAN"? There is some great, great comedic scenes in that movie but one of my favorites is when Kate-the main character is sitting on her bed, wearing her wedding gown and veil and crying to herself. Her make up is smeared and she is commiserating with comfort food.

I feel like this scene could easily get played out at my house this winter. When the kids are at school I sit on my bed with my newly-super cool-cat ears and coca cola and gummi bears and cry to myself about whatever it is I felt like crying about. And knowing me in the winter-and being a California spoiled brat I would  have soooo much inspiration like:

Hot chocolate does not help me get my BMI to a healthier number (I can picture the cat ears down turned)

The wire in my over the shoulder boulder holder started poking out ( at which point I would drape myself in my Betsy Johnson half coat-drape because I bought it about a couple "D' sizes ago and it would no no longer button)

Despite my best efforts I will not sound like my favorite contestants on the voice (ears turn backwards and a growl  and hiss grows in my throat).

 I mean I could go on and on.....and I often do but I'll stop there for now.

My poor merswah has been so traumatized by my banter and scowl face toward cold weather that my sinical-ness (that is a real word now...so calm down squiggly red line!) has rubbed off into his brain. He has told me that anytime he hears anyone say "How much they love the fall" he thinks how much I don't like it.
And I have explained to him that in this high desert of U T A H fall is our winter in California so this isnt' real fall. Its fake California fall (yes I am obviously obnoxious).

He mentioned to me this afternoon that maybe we should try moving somewhere that was really bad so that we could come back and me be more grateful for  U T A H weather. Pfffft. I know it wasn't nice but I was like "Ummm...you still want to stay married right?" I can barely survive winter in  UTAH without excessive hissing and renting of clothing. Take me back east and I literally turn into a werewolf.

I would tear off my clothes (but keep on my pink high heels (that I would have recently bought to help myself feel better-because in this scenario I-as werewolf would at least have some class) and I would proceed to wander the woods marking my territory and dispensing all my knowledge the forest creatures who would then ask me where I was from and then feel so sympathetic for me that they would make me some homemade bread (although this might take awhile with their little paws and such) and tell me "oh poor thing, here have some chocolate).

And even though at times that social barrier electric fence in my head sometimes sputters and something pops out of my head that is more outlandish then normal I am grateufl to at least amuse myself in many un      desirable situations.

So if you are ever on the television and hear about an eccentric lady singing very bad opera outside her home in U T A H you can at least say "At least that isn't me" "That Mother is craaaazy!"

And sometimes just having something else that is a little more than what you are-makes you feel better about the person you are. Kind of like how I feel about robotic cat ears...and watching the show Fringe.

A big ol' ring

I got excellent advice from a person whom I love and Admire before I got married and engaged.
She counseled not to spend more than $1,000 on both of our wedding rings combined.

To a person in community college who made like $500 a month, lived at home and was lucky enough to have had a grandparent donate a car to our family (I was the 4th owner of this said car) that sounded like sound advice.

When I was asked by my love what I wanted for an engagement ring I was fairly specific. I wanted our birth stone (and the same month we would be married in). After I received a beautiful custom engagement ring that was sweetly inscribed we went shopping for our wedding bands together.

I fell in love with a 75% off clearance ring from a trunk sale at JCpenney and we found him a great ring at Macy's. I can't say we spent under 1k combined but we were pretty close. I never wanted a wedding set so my engagement ring was just for the engagement.

I loved my wedding ring and got lots of compliments on it. It was very thick and wide, with side diamonds. It was different and it fit my style.

So, when my barely 2 year old flushed it down the toilet one Saturday afternoon-and my husband-covered her little ears when I exclaimed "D*** it!" while I bawled a piece of me kind of got sucked otu. Losing an irreplacable ring sucks. Not only was it a sentimental item (Hello wedding ring) but it was the one thing I felt like I had that 1. Hadn't changed  and 2. That always fit me, despite getting big and pregnant then slim again, then chubby again. it always fit. I had lost or misplaced the ring many time previously. Even one time for a whole month  but I was never really worried about it-I knew I would find it. But as soon as I saw my ring missing from the desk I knew it was gone forever.

I have dabbled in other jewelry. I have bought a silver ring to wear on my finger. I have received really pretty rings for mother's day to try out as my new 'wedding' ring but nothing really sticks. I know it sounds so petty but I love the rings and they are fun-nicer than costume jewelry cost but nothing close to my awesomely lost ring that Dory now wears as a bracelet somewhere in Australia.

I look online sometimes at rings. I am sometimes horrified at how expensive they are-it was made clear early in our relationship that I either wanted a huge emerald cut diamond or something unique. It wasn't the cost that I wanted it was the look of the something I was going to get.

I couldn't imagine spending 5k or more on a ring. I would have rather had a car! Or down payment for a car. I didn't want my soon to be husband to go into debt to buy a ring (nor would he).

So after being married 10 years and rocking a semi naked finger for 3 years I continue to look at wedding rings. But I kind of feel the same way now about it as I did then-its so much money to just wear on your finger! I was reading an article about buying wedding rings and somewhere it says about spending 2 months salary on a ring-what the mother? Am I totally just out of perspective? Do most people do this?

And I think my quirky spending habits just inhibit me from knowing what maybe the average person spends money on. Ask me how much I am willing to spend  on

 lipstick: $35 (yes one tube)
A purse: $200+
Dinner out to eat: $50


A car which we use every day: No more than $14,000 which is a fairly cheap car

I am more willing to by the Cadillac of lipstick but the geo metro of cars. And I know money is a personal subject but I find it kind of baffling and at the same time intriguing how other people spend their money.
I kind of admire the person who buys a $30,000 car but is willing to eat rice and beans or doesn't go on vacation. I guess its always trade off's right?  I like my pricier accessories and will take the cheap car.

But sometimes I fantasize about myself tottling around in Louis Vuitton boots rocking a 4ct tiffany wedding ring just to see what it might be like and carpooling in my large infiniti suv with subwoofers (because I also am married to a rapper in my fantasy apparently). And because spending money is a perspective.

I  do feel like I have some pretty good checks and balances in my life. And I continually strive not to spend in a white trash sort of way (I have previously written about getting my nails done but still not replacing a window that had broke). Sometimes I don't' want to pay for dental work but I see a lovely piece of furniture and think "This a good price!". Its all a little askew at times. I mean really, teeth are more important than a car or furniture but I do try to make a conscious effort not to get too wrapped up in materials.

 I used to think that if someone had batteries at their house they were wealthy. That and name brand cereal, and if they ate at McDonald's-because eating at McDonald's to me when I was young was a luxury. And if they had internet. For real, my parents did not getting internet (cable at least) until just before I moved out of the house. No one had cell phones either.


I grew up in a modest home with two very hard working, determined parents who gave the great gift of work ethic. My dad didn't always like his job but he did it because he loved and wanted to take care of us. My mom didn't necessarily prefer to work but it provided some needed things for our family as well. And-although it is embarrassing-I once had someone whom I knew from student government in college ask me if my family was as prissy as I was. I wasn't sure what she meant by that but all I could reply was "No, I grew up in a family where money was tight but I was taken care of".

My mom is not materialistically prissy. My dad is far from prissy. They are some of the most dedicated people and home caretakers I have ever met (besides my grandparents who obviously passed this gene onto my mom).
I grew up in a home where the cars were always clean, my dad always manicured the lawns and washed the cars, dinner was always cleaned up right away and the home was spic and span.
My mom always took care of herself and did her hair and make up everyday and my father was always well groomed and freshly shaven. But I would never call them prissy.

I on the other hand have a tendency for prissy and am fairly sloppy. My home is usually in some sort of disarray and about twice a week I need to roam the house looking for a cup or fork I set down somewhere and forgot about.

I like the idea of always being up early, dressed and make upp-ed and hair done but frankly I don't really fit that bill.

My mom and dad both have modest rings and are fairly practical people. So even if I am sincerely tempted to buy that $300 beautiful Ella Moss sweater/poncho at Nordstrom I know that (and I never forget this) you don't take your treasures with you. Your home, dress, jewelry, shoes, car can't go with you to heaven.
But that being said....not having a large diamond, or really wedding ring, means that if I were to buy that beautiful sweater...there is a lot smaller chance that it would accidentally get snagged.

So, on my frumpy days when I wish I had a beautiful ring on my finger-something that feels all shiny and sparkly-that despite my chubbiness will still gleam and glow and fit-I need to remember these top 3 things

1. You don't' take your treasures with to heaven-or hell for that matter
2. Using a treadmill  for longer rather than spending money will help me feel better in the long term
and
3. Having a large ring will not make me happy...

......but having a large ring would make it more likely I could win a street fight...so...I shouldn't rule it out completely.

pSshhhhh.

Pffft...ffffffttt...pssssssshhhhh.
Oh man-one day I will have soundbites on my computer. I will also in this UFO type future get to spend my nights commenting on commerials. Like a mystery science theatre thing. Even if it wasn't like a real show it would be so, much fun.
I am an English Major's worst nightmare. I mean...well, me and Curious George-he might have me beat.
Either way, I love writing and I hate editing. That is the worst.
Its like making a beautiful, chocolate cake, so delicious lookin' (oh snap to you English comp teacher!) and then you sit down to eat it and you have someone oc'd ing on your eating. Barking things like: use a napkin! hold your fork right! don't drop crumbs!
The weather in this ol country state is chilly. I've seen people in snowish jackets and a man with hairy arms in cargo shorts, sandals and tank top. I myself am wearing my boots and a sweater (with my hairy arms covered).

Last week it got to the 90's and despite my scowling and hissing and renting of my coats the rain and clouds came to poop out their despair. OH San Diego!
This transitioning has been hard. Mostly because when the week is this weather its not like "oh we are having a cold spell" its like "dun dun dun!!!-Winter is coming all you MotherFathers" and then it does the big KISS tongue wag.

My new neighborhood is nice. Lots of smiling people. I think the size of houses (or amount of kids that are within them) keep a lot of the adults lurking in the kitchens of their home all day. From the porch out my back door I can see into about 8 different neighbor's backyards. And I am happy to announce that today, for the first time I saw an adult women in the backyard behind me. I know I've gabbbed about it before but you always see random kids running around, you can hear them crying, yelling, laughing etc but an adult is a rare occassion in this neighborhood (which still gives more credit to my suspicion of alien's running the neighborhood in child bodies). And I know the women who emerged from her home a few minutes ago was human because she was not smiling while she took out the trash. And human's know not to smile while taking out the trash.

I have a lot of people ask me how I am settling in. And I picture that much like a cat would wonks around in a small circle, sits down, readjusts, starts kneading, gets up again and finds a new spot to sit in. And then every now and then there is a breeze that cackles up the cat's fur and it has to readjust. That is how I feel. I don't know if I will ever be settled in but I think I can get comfortable enough. I wish settling was just hoping and praying-because I definitley do that-its I think more a feeling of contentment and I am not sure at this point if I will ever have that here.

I know, I know, besides all the grammatical errors I insist on having in my writing  and dramatic views about how I feel. I always think-well usually think-its best to be honest. I think that people at times are too selfish with their feelings. I think sometimes we as people are overprotective of our feelings. We don' want them to get hurt so we don't share them. But there is no such thing as a weak feeling. I definitley think people need to hone their feelings and how they react to them but I think that if we were more of a sharing community we would be more empathetic. And if we all did this I am pretty Sure God would then Say "awww look at all the nice people! Ok ok, everyday can be like San Diego and here's some chocolate cake".

And if God did that for me-I know he would get Curious George the desperate help he needs with his good English.

Vaseline

There is something very cool to me about running. Like if someone says they are a runner I kind of automatically  suspect they are a very determined and put together person.
Most runners I see...maybe I should say "have seen" (my neighborhood I see no runners, San Diego there were zillions...along with dog walkers...) but Most runners I see wear tightly fit athletic clothing.

I recently got a treadmill from amazon. It was a low priced one with good reviews and it was under 400 dollars. I was pretty excited because as a person who deals with depression and some anxiety and like many other people I have stresses in my life. I am not built for running but I do enjoy (when I acclimate to it) a nice thumping pace  where afterwards my body is tired and sweaty but it feels like my body moved and tired out from something "productive".

So anyways, my merswah put together the treadmill in the basement for me. It is positioned near a wall, where I hope to one day have television televised on a small tv. The first time I used it-I was not only ill prepared but forgot that if you haven't ran for 2-3 months your body is going to have to work up to it again. I was got so hot and sweaty and did mostly quick walking.

So, me being the thinker-decided that having a treadmill in the basement of my home was going to liberate me from the restraints of certain clothings that going to a public gym puts on you.
So, the next night  and with team effort I put on my sports bra and a pair of cut off sweat shorts-that I found on clearance at old navy- and trotted down to the treadmill to work out.

It was going to be freeing and cooler and I could just feel my hidden ab muscles flexing as I started to jog (aka 3.7 on my permanently inclined treadmill).

Something I didn't realize at the time, when I was putting on above pictured shorts is that when you wear shorts exposing flesh...that flesh rubs. And that rubbed flesh gets sore really fast.

I am not going to say chubby girls shouldn't wear shorts running but I will say that I should not be wearing shorts again while running unless I learn to walk/jog like a cowboy-all bowlegged.

And  when I am 80 and my diaper is full I might be more naturally inclined to jog 

$7.49 of shorts wasted. That could have bought me like 6 cokes at Mcdonald's or like.....1/4 tub of lipsitck from Chanel.

Oh well, you live you learn and then buy a bottle of vaseline (which I am hoping might make me run faster as well...kind of like how in National Lampoon Christmas Vacation the snow saucer gets all buffed  and waxed and zips around skidding around corners)....or I'll wear leggings.

Do not Covet

There was this time in Highschool where there was this girl. I didn't paticularly enjoy her company among other things. And I'll just say she had bad acne. She had it on her face, back, chest...you get the point. I remmeber gossipping to someone about the acne. That it was...ahem..."Gross and how I am glad I did not have that".
   Yes, being 30 now...heck even a few days afterward I felt bad about the judgy comment (its true genes have chubby and easy addictions but we dont' have really bad acne) But especially now being 30 and oh so much more reflective I don't' feel guilty but I still find it embarassing.
   Well, Heaven Knows how to teach me lessons because I swear to you just week afterwards I got fatty zits on my chest. Not like a forest of them but enough that I got the point!

   Since then I am still learning by experience and remind myself each time I get all preachy and judgy that it will happen to me. No matter what holy water I fling around the room or incense I burn. IF I judge I too will be judge or get the same fate.

    I wish to some extent this would happen to things you covet. I love fashion magazines. I love fashion, I love colors, I love make up, I love home decor. All things which are pretty much exterior.
   Now, I know better than to think my life is established on morals I see presented in magazines. I do not beileve my body should look like the body I see in  a magazine. I don't think my body should look any better than how I take care of it and how I am naturally shaped but sometimes I covet the ease of wearing certain styles.
     I started enjoying running (when I ran...ahem clarification: quickly walked with hobbit length legs out of breath). The part I hated about it wasnt' being winded, it was how putting on my sports bra was a two man effort. If I wanted those mothers to stay put they were squished down enough to touch my neck and the 5 hook masterpiece took a bit of effort to buckle. My husband has much  stronger fingers I think now because of this.
     I also, am curious about how someone so top heavy-as myself-has such little feet. Giving someone with short legs a large bust and tiny feet seems mean to scream "Be a full time homemaker not an athlete". I do not think my body was made for athleticism.
   If I was a cave person I would be the grandma stirring the porridge pot all day-or kicked out because I suck at being a nurse maid. That would have never happened. The nursemaid part didn't even work our for my own kids.
    Its kind of like how little men drive large monster trucks. Like someone is compensating for something? That is what it is like for me when I have a baby. Its all for show.
    There are a lot of things I covet. One, long strong legs of a person, Someone who thrives on a clean house but isn't a mental mess about it but it is highly motivated by extreme order, A person who exudes love-the person who-I know (because I am magic) will befriend even the squirreliest trolls and who never resents what they have been given. And yes, sometimes I do covet the length of the model in the magazine's body. Dont get me wrong. Being short has some advantages: I never worry about doorways, clearing light fixtures, my pants being too short....it was easier to find a man taller than me. But considering I have the body of an Italian grandma I tip toe to reach just about everything in my cupboards...(and I don't even have nice calves to prove it!)....I should be a lot better cook. Because I am pretty sure all Italian Grandmas are great cooks.

       So it seems Karma is more of if you judge someone watch out and if you covet something it just makes you unhappy. I am continually learning how to admire people more rather than wish I had what they had-if it be a soul type trait not an outside one. And after weaning off medications and gaining upwards of 20 lbs I have a lot more sympathy for others who have a hard time staying at a comfortable  and healthy BMI weight.

          I am definitely looking forward to the treadmill that is coming sometime in the next week! With winter getting closer and summer staying in San Diego (BOOHOOOHoo). I definitely will be using my hamster trail downstairs with my "Special" light (i.e. uv light for winter). And despite my past experience, I am trying extra hard this time around to be more cautious about the food choices I make. Because even if weaning off means I will gain weight (which I already have) it would be nice if it jiggled just a little less.

      I am grateful to have a body. A functioning body. I have my issues just like lots of people and I don't enjoy the swollenness I get on my right side but....I am capable of a lot (more with my special little compression sock). No teeth have fallen out, I have at least 5 eye lashes to put mascara on, and I don't have black arm hair. SO...life is good.

Cancer Survivors

I love seeing pink pigs at the fair. They smell terrible but they are cute. I have no desire to own one-and despite once desperatlely wanting a pet skunk because of their adorable faces I had the chance to pet a skunk pelt-and that my friends is not warm fuzzy-so I've moved on to just staring at my children and buying soft textiles and sheets and reminding my husband to put on lotion. Because that is what normal people do. Trade pet pigs and skunks for human things...right? right.

 I can definitley see a theme starting here on this blog. Is it too redundant to use the word depressed for everything? I think I use it a lot. Depressed and also the words- I LOVE IT!  This sounds very bipolar...which I am not (but I do love and admire people who are 'officially').

I didn't go with my family to church today. I have a gnarly cold/flu. And although yesterday I was feeling better today I woke up with it stuck in my head and chest.

So, since my brain is working....if somewhat foggy, I thought I would watch some "I'm a mormon" videos on Youtube. I really enjoy the videos. Besides being genuine it tells a story but in less than 10 minutes. Which is perfect for my a.d.d.-ness today (one reason why I can't go lay down and sleep).

Want to know a good decongester (no I am not writing Decongestant...pfft)? Watching "I'm a mormon" videos. Stuffed up noses? Watch some tearjearers and you will get cleaned out. Albeit-your nose will be raw and you will use all the 'good' toilet paper on your snuffer...but it helps.

This one especially touched my heart

When I was 15 my mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. At the time, being a young teen I didn't quite understand the gravity of what that meant. I was scared but my mom was very brave. In my younger perspective it was hard for me to learn how to cope with that. My life pretty much went on fairly normally.
My older siblings weren't really around during this time period and I feel in some ways I was the keeper of these memories. I didn't have the same mom that I knew from before that time.

I understand better now how children are selfish. And how grateful I am that I could be selfish at that time because I had parents who took care of me, who provided a wonderful home. So when my mom was sick I felt guilty that I felt in many ways useless and being the more people pleaser that I am-I felt like I failed because I couldn't really help my mom feel better.

My sweet mom doesn't remember a lot during this period (things chemo will do for you!) I remember seeing her have all the emotions on the spectrum.

This last December my mom let us know that she had Breast Cancer again.It has been 15 years. It broke my heart. All those same feelings flooded back to me. I remember sitting in church months later (Feeling sorry for myself lol-literally-I know I can be very good at this) and it was Testimony meeting where members of the congregation can go up to the front and share their testimony and faith building experiences.

A woman whom I admire stood up at the front sharing her testimony and experience of being able to go to a Church Women's activity and how wonderful it was, and how she felt the spirit and she really needed it etc etc. And I was sitting there feeling so sad for myself. I had really wanted to go to the activity. Everyone I knew who could babysit was already going and my husband was traveling back to utah for work....again (a time which is really trying for me as a mom).

And this was not long after I found out about my mom's diagnosis and I felt so helpless. Like all those feelings I had as a young woman came flooding back.

It was overwhelming.

Months later my mom's hair is growing back, and she is remembering things again ( gone with chemo brain!).

And I know that her and my father had so much faith during this time. As a family we fasted and prayed and went to the Temple. I pleaded with my Father in Heaven for her. I know my parents had faith that they shared with me-because I did not have very much. I was terrified.

One of the mormon videos talks about being scared. And once the fear went away, everything became better. And I realize for me I am still scared mindless. Nothing else can happen to my family dang it!

When my mom was diagnosed we weren't' for sure moving back to Utah yet-I always had an inkling that my time in California was temporary and a blessing but that wasn't really quite sunk it yet.. It was a couple weeks later we decided that we needed to make the move for our family. I knew it was the right decision, but the decision nonetheless literally made my soul hurt.

I was scared I would be miserable forever, I was-am scared of being lonely, of hating the terrain and culture, not feeling like I fit in, not making friends, hating it here, of being mad at my husband because he has a life already here (having a career which started here and was built here and that he still has all those contacts and support networks for himself) and that I for the most part need to start over-I take my family with my kids and my adorable husband with me but thats it.

I was mad because I never wanted to live in Utah again-it was something that was truced on when we were married. It was our 5 year plan. I counted down all of those years until I could escape if you will- back to sunny California nearer to my family.

So despite knowing that this was an investment for the long term of our family it is so hard to see over the horizon. I hate the breakup of when you move. It is not possible to have the same contact as you did before you moved-and I understood this but it is still extremely hard.

Because we knew we were moving to  Utah we dropped out of the Adoption process in California. And this felt like a huge loss to me. For parents hoping to add to their family and investing time, concern and hope for 2 years it was like I lost the hope of that child. I know that we will add to our family again one day and I know God's timing is right and that we made the best decision for our family in the longterm but after having such an uphill battle with the process for so long its hard to let that go.

And maybe thats what it is. After holding onto something so tightly for so long its hard to let it go. Even if what is ahead of you is better for the long run (and isn't life really an eternal marathon?).

I still feel mad that my mom had cancer again. I feel angry at the doctors and at the world. I feel mad that she had to suffer again. There is still so much that can't be explained. A piece of your heart feels removed and lent when someone you loves suffers. Its not that the pain of the borrow is so harrowing its that they are suffering at all. I have faith in God. I know he answers prayers. I have been able to witness miracles. I know miracles are real. I know hardships really suck-the huge life changing ones and the ones that are just plain annoying (what do you mean we are our of m&m's!).

This past year has been extremely challenging, heart breaking, soul testing and has forced me to rely more heavily on my Father in Heaven and Savior. It has reminded me that so much doesn't matter. So many petty things don't matter. Oh heavens, I have so much experience with needing to shove my foot in my mouth and learning the 'hard way' with experience. I am often embarassed at my caddiness or short term perspective.

I like to joke that I no longer am embarrassed to wear tight jogging pants. Ya. I may not look like the vegan jogger who juices everyday and eats 'clean' but for the person behind me-it might be motivation to keep coming back! And it feels good to move your body without thigh chaffing.

So after being able to use a roll of tissue on my nose. After being able to mull and wallow and slop feelings all over a white digital page I feel a bit more secure. Much like a pig does once in the mud. Keeps the flies off a bit more, cools me down even though on the outside I might be a bit scroungy I  know that despite the layers of muck I am a perfectly squealy pink inside-I just might need hosing off before getting onto the carpet.

Not very optimistic

Today I have not been feeling very optimistic. That is the shorter term for depressed. Okay-its not really shorter-I made that up but I feel like "not optimisitic" is a cupcake sort of way of saying depressed.

Sometimes when I feel like this I wanted to be melodramatic and write about all the blah blah that happened in the day (really nuthi'n to even snuff about it was pretty normal) but dealing with lady business or as Phil would say "Monstration" doesn't help the "this is where I live now moment I got today"

Living in California isn't all moonshine and bikini parties at the beach. But it was basically for the last umm....forever I ever pictured living for the rest of my life.I felt like I was thriving there like. I had a lot of moments there that weren't perfect (obviously life isn't) but It was the first time in like years of being married and being a mom that I had it really figured out.

I know, I know, life changes etc etc but for whatever reason my brain is not made to live here. Someone asked me (on a visit to California for an awesome family reunion-yes 15 minutes from the beach) How was Utah? And I can honestly say "As expected" and I do not mean that in a dramatic way. I expected to be hard and it is....but I am looking for all the silver linings (actually it might be more accurate to say I am laying in the grass staring up at the sky yelling to it "send me some more silver linings dang it I'm running low!")

In my experience. People who have not dealt with depression or anxiety don't quite understand the courage it takes to continue to plan on being happy and working to find, create, share silver linings.
Just like I don't know what it would be like to be a natural born runner or someone who is convinced Werewolves live in their backyard...I have just not been in that boat.

But being prone to depression, being depressed or on the down and outs means that you have the opportunity to produce a lot of bravery. To be more courageous and to act better than you feel.

There is a lot of awesome advice out there. A lot of great books (and bad ones) and good therapists (and bad ones-i.e. if you find you are crying every time you go to see  therapist...might not be the best therapist-just my experience). Some of my favorite words of wisdom that have helped me are

1. Pray to God for peace and courage (and tell him you feel terrible and how hard it is-he loves and understands you-don't believe anyone who says different)

2. Give service to others. At a really hard point in my life (when I first felt depressed after many deep losses) my mom said "It sounds like you are thinking too much about yourself-get out there and do something for someone else. And service and helping others does help. It doesn't nullify your problems or losses but helps you heal a little easier. My sister told me during this time "It won't stop hurting it will just stop hurting less".
And this advice is awesome and helps but as a side note (I am full of these) this is not the best way to make friends always. Sometimes people we come and contact with and learn to love are those who need our help and aren't able to give back in the same way. Everything needs balance

3. Figure out what is fulfilling to you. Maybe you wont' figure it out for a long long long long time. Maybe on a bad day you need to just order in pizza watch a movie with the kids (if they will sit that long),  have a loud dance party, maybe yell into a pillow while you are by yourself or do staring contests with the cats (if you have cats instead of human children). There is always hope-even if you haven't seen or touched it yet. Nothing is worthless.

Depressing Dr. pepper

I am drinking Dr. Pepper for lunch.

I think there is some kind of cruel chemical that is put into water when school starts.
Monday-no school. Woke up to alarm, went walking, did some weights and came home before family was awake. no problem

Tuesday-First day of school and it was a bear to wake up

Wednesday-Worst than Tuesday. Woke up the kids in order to leave.

Maybe its just knowing that the next 9 months you are being scheduled and summer is a bit more free flow. Either way I am not a fan of this current situation.

Today I got to have a yummy breakfast with the lovely e and cousins. With my oldest now in school full day my day feels less hurried-so even though my body has been a bear to move in the morning the day is a lot more low key. My second will be starting kindergarten part day next week and matching playdates for her is a lot simpler she in general enjoys company as well and understand social cues a bit better.

I know its not a good day when for Lunch what I decide I want to have is a Dr. pepper. Not just because I hate Dr. Pepper but also because I kind of had sworn off coke....because besides being a smidge of a shopoholic I am a bit obsessive about eating. I go through phases of not being very hungry but eat to keep energy to be hungry all the time. And then especially around baby box madness I am an endless pit. And for someone who is not-how should I say this-athletic or in general slim.....it is not in my best interest to just eat all day-that is not good for anyone.

I know it is dependent on my mood as well but as I told my husband earlier this week "I knew I would be depressed with this move and it would be hard....but I was kind of hoping I would be depressed and lose my appetite....so at least I lost some weight as a consolation prize". He was not amused. But as usual I can laugh at my own jokes so it made my brain smile-even if he was not betwixed by my chubby funny girl charm.

Moving is lonely. I know from experience that usually good friends take time and that not to expect to make besties the minute you move in. Even if you are in fairly friendly neighborhood relationships just take time and with summer just getting over and school starting I know other moms are busy with their schedules.

Because I know I love to be around people I make it a point to get out and smile and talk with people and with not having a strong network in this new place  I have been making some attempts to get some forced socialization in-because I know I am happier this way.

I have applied to volunteer at the animal shelter and been looking into book clubs.

I just got an email this morning that unfortunately, the book club I had inquired about it is full-and it was a kind letter-it is a ginormous group.

 But then I think about my next steps. What if the humane society doens't want me? (I really just want to love on some cats and be with other people and I feel it shows how determined I am because most animal fanatics are borderline personalities-with the exception of some friends whom I love that I know-and taniaml fanatics tend to have different set of social skills).

So for plan C;
It sounds like I Just need to force others to socialize with me. If nothing is firmed up in a couple of weeks (there has to be other lonely souls out there who love company right?) It sounds like I need a few more volunteer applications (and no at this point I am not very interested in being involved in the PTA as unfortunate as that sounds)

However,I dont' feel like its always the best time when you are somewhat desperate for friendship to look for it (just like finding love when you are desperate you are willing to take what you can get in that department).

I will try to make all advertisements for friendship not sound creepy if it comes to plan R, S, or T-I promise. I really do not plan on making any people skin outfits ("it will put on the lotions!!")

There has to be someone out there who wants to come over and have me feed them Dr. Pepper for lunch-right? Right.

So, while I plot my next move to become engaged in this new rancid weather state I'll continue trying to curb my shopoholicism and do crafts and art at home with my 5 year old....with the occasional tript o Ikea for picture frames (they have to go somewhere right?)

My husband asked what I was going to do when I was all done decorating (the only thing right now I really am looking forward to) and I couldn't answer him but maybe what I should have said was "Learn how to make homemade Dr. pepper".

First world Problems

Have you already seen this video? I love it.

Is it Okay to cry when you get a bad nail job? Like as in my hands look like hobbit paws smeared in white orc paint. Even typing right now is a bit hard since my nails are so short. Must...keep..typing..(finger-No, clumsy little hobbits don't type...or wear shoes precious).

This morning did not start off terrible. I say morning as in the 7am time I woke up. And considering I can't fall asleep to nearly midnight this is a big deal. Its a good reason to drink a lot of water (or martinelli's that was left out and was out of fizzz but guzzle ible due to the high sugar content my warped, aging 29 year old body craves hourly).

So I woke up, hubby was showering and my kids were sleeping in. Thinking no big deal I wake up my oldest because we had sport camp in about half an hour. Which was my first mistake. And if any of you have extra spirited kids who feel emotions INTENSELY-this was not going to be a good day. Wailing and gnashing of teeth insued on and off for about an hour. No, they were not going to camp that day. No, they hissed "You do it and I'll hate you!" Too late.

I wish I was at the point in parenting like when you get used to a colicky baby (and no colicky baby does not mean they mew to eat or when they are tired...that is not colicky). Your baby screams and your brain turns kind of numb to it and you are like "well, let's do this then-I'm just going to have to try everything and wait for you to stop crying (etc etc I am not going to go into detail about this-yes everything was ok health wise for them).

Anyways, I am not at a numb point when my kid tantrums. It is still really grating. Sure its been weeks since its happened-and yes we have had multiple opinions about how to help them etc etc. But I really think its us parents who need those extra coping tools.

And here is where the First world problem theme prances in my head. Ya, my kid is being crazy etc and it, is so tiring sometimes inside my head to listen to but he has a weekend with Grandma (3 days of kid freeness and lots of dates with my hubby!)

Thats right. Along with this terrible Utah package I get some great family nearby who loves my kids and-knowing the extra care some of them need-still want to love and nurture they can have great Grandma and Grandpa time.

So by the time I drop them off do my errands (and ahem-eat late) I am feeling all sorry for myself and my arm is driving me mad! ( please read that in a Queens accent). I got a spider bite sometime yesterday (The devil's servants from hell) and I am for sure allergic to this one. The thing has ballooned on my arm and from about the wrist to the middle of my bird wings it is constantly itching and burning (oh, and little blisters on the top of the poison site).

So I am like "I'm going to get my nails done!"  (as middle class white women do who are stay at home moms on a mini vacation) and I go and endure a deep nail clipping and nail dust smeared into my hands with sticky lotion to be asked to pay 34 dollars when last time I went it was 25 for an amazing experience. So, I am sure I had a stink face on (I can't hide my displeasure well) but in the end was told it was a "communication and to pay just 25". So I pay and tip (and now feel a little guilty about only giving 10% tip).

And I am on the brink of tears while I drive my minivan home. Thats right-apparently nails are the things that can break the camels back (PMS anyone?)

I stop at the mailbox to pick up the mail and there is a big red truck parked in front of me (facing the wrong direction on the street) looking down at something. I get my mail and get back in my car and for a moment dramatize staring him down and asking if he wants to play a game of chicken. Because I am totally sure I would win against the Unnecessarily hoisted up red truck which gets 12 miles a gallon. If I didn't' win-at least I would have spent less in gas.

So to answer my rhetorical question "yes." I can cry...because well..I already did but I'd rather have bad nails be a the scapegoat to breaking down in front of my kids rocking in the corner during another tantrum (anyone seen the movie "Mental?") Ha! I can hear the sound of music playing the background now and wish I could sing at the top of my lungs in my underwear.

Today has been a little bit of a sucky day but lets be honest. If my worst concerns of today directly are a tantrum and hobbit man hands then the world hasn't ended.....yet.

The Californians

I grew up with a few stereotypes of Utah. I visited Utah quite a few times before moving here nearly 10 years ago after getting married and given a more selfish and shortsighted choice I would not have moved back (I know boohoo for me my husband has a great job and we get a very quiet neighborhood).

I don't think it is even California that has stereotypes of Utah but I do think Californians basically it is the best place to live (which besides its government and taxes) it is the best state but we don't need to get all technical about how awesomness of my home state.

A few stereotypes are that everyone is Mormon (not true) and that there is bigger hair here (true although it seems less common in the less rural areas) and that everyone has lots of kids (when I say lots I mean more than 4)-which I don't know about most of Utah but I do know so far my experience has been that is common to see larger of families God bless those moms.

Some things I didn't' expect when I first moved here and then looked forward when returning is that most the people who work in retail or at the grocery store are adorable happy people. Same for so much of my fast food experience here. The parks here are not full of Grandmas and Grandpas watching their grandkids or a mom twice my age who seems more paranoid then I am about germs at the park-that being said I am pretty sure if I was a 40 year old mom I can only imagine I would be more paranoid of germs especially with the possibility of an alien HOST invasion-for real my baby would be in like 4 layers of Juicy Couture baby sized velour suits wearing a helmet and amber beads

and I would have had to leave my 3 karat diamond at home so it wouldn't scratch the baby while I circled around her football linebacker backer style while she ran around in her mini prada ballet flats.

I can only imagine if I was starting to have kids a lot older that I would be way weirder than I am now...also I might have nicer clothes.

I did not expect in my life to get married young. I never had a dream wedding or dream husband (well I should say I did think making out all the time would be fun) but I knew I wanted children. I thought I would get married older. I would say mid 20's (the age I was when my second was born).  But when I met this Utah man I literally prayed that if he didn't' want to marry me I was convinced that I would never marry anyone else in my entire life-and that was ok but I wanted to assurance from God that he would help me heal and continue on.  (Have you caught any hints that I am ahem...sometimes dramatic?)

Mother's day sparkles

I have about 4 boxes of memories that I keep in the garage. With an upcoming move and lack of desire to actually clean the KITCHEN that needs organizing and spraying I diverted my attention to items in the garage.

These 4 boxes contain artwork, writing, stories, pictures, birthday and Christmas cards and other memories from my childhood. I was lucky that my mom was sentimental enough to keep so many precious items for me. With my mom being sick I have an even stronger affection for these items and am now grateful that I was handed boxes of items from my childhood almost immediately after moving out of the house.

She has an awesome trait for loving things in order and keeping things organized and clean. Something that I do not really have. I have the "I'm stressed and cleaning the house is the only thing I can do at this moment to divert my grumpiness" trait but I think that is more reactionary than it is a natural born talent.

So, as I was saying I was rummaging through my dusty containers and remembering a part of me that I forgot about. The one who had a first birthday, who performed, who wrote stories regularly, who went to college.

I found love letters from a boyfriend when I was 12. I found love letters from my now husband-some of which were written in Italian. I got to re read my pink and irridescent journal from ages 9-10.

It while reading these journal entries out loud that I realized a lot of me hasn't changed and although I no longer call my younger brother a "big poop" a lot of my budding personality has stayed intact. And I also got a little freaked out that "Oh my word will my daughter be this boy crazy?" and "Can any parent avoid their kids feeling miffed?" I mean even with just two kids one is always demanding more attention than the other at some point.

I admire my mom and so many other mom's who were wonderful examples to me. Some of the mom's I babysat for growing up gave me such strong foundations for how to help raise a family. One family who I sat for while in college who had five kids ate the healthiest food I had seen-her kids had veggies for snacks and fruit and although her kids being adorable and spitfires she had a very easy going and patient personality.

Another mom who had children with several special needs and typical children showed me about unconditional love, dedication and helping her chidren thrive despite some natural limitations. I still see her every now and then grew close to her while I was with her children.

A year or so after being married one of the children I cared for passed away. His passing came at a time when I had other losses in my life, a miscarriage, my grandmother passing away and a few other situational large losses.

It wasn't until now, with my children being older and after going through a short (in perspective) bout of a chornically sick child that I more fully understood that courage and love that my mom friend had when her child was often sick and needing so much. She reached out to me in an email for comfort and everytime I see her I am reminded of that bravery and love and that sometimes enduring doesn't mean that you are thriving but that you are dedicated and being brave often means crying it out while you continue on the path.

While being at both of these women's homes I not only grew to love their children and genuinely enjoyed being with them but I looked forward to it.

I am so grateful for the life I have had-and continue to have-that I am often surrounded by amazing women who help teach me new pieces of what it means to be a mom.

I feel like through out life we get these sometimes large and at times small sparkles that we need to collect and it takes time and patience to get a bottle big enough to observe and hold and admire.
These sparkles are favorite memories, triumphs, reminders of faith, examples of love and faith and all the characteristics we admire and which we have in ourselves and the challenges that at the time we dont' see the benefit but when they have collected we see their blessing.

My kids are both sick today which makes them more snuggly (which I do not mind at all) and reminds me to be grateful for the times when they are wild, crazy and unkempt.

Like I said before-"those kids"-are mine. I at times forget that from the time I was a little girl I dreamed of having a family. That for years I prayed to get pregnant-then after my miscarriage I prayed for at least just one child and promised I would love and cherish them forever and be oh so perfect!

It is obvious-I am not perfect-and that is a naive promise to make but at the time I was willing to do anything to have my child. I remember this promise when one of my children-with some special needs-is tantruming and not able to communicate exactly how they are feeling. And when my other is full of spunk and crazy and wanting to be my shadow...all...day-that I asked for this. My family was purposefully and wonderfully made.

And I am reminded not to be sad when adding to our family is not immediately met (or might be 5-6 more years in the making) that despite the tiring work I am going to be a mom forever. And Ideally I would not like to have a 15 year gap between my children in ages, I will continue to be grateful to those I am blessed to care for.

I just hope with all this ruminating and twinkl-think'n (ahem sesame street) that I figure out the other side of parenting which is coping....without tools and too much retail therapy.

Although I am not as sentimental as my mom and I do not have an organized collection of ultrasounds and first baby cards and to remember that our time to nurture and love our children and care for our children in our home is relatively short.  So I should remember to calm down, take a breath...maybe online shop with a cup of hot chocolate in one hand (just a small one though this time) and thank God for all the sparkles in my life up to this point.

"Those kids"

Before we had children, my husband and I would keenly observe other people's parenting. Other people's relationships even before we got married. I remember we did this compatibility booklet together while we were engaged-my husband's idea-and although I don't remember really anything about it I do remember it being a reminder about how awesome of a match we were.

IT isn't until you are married and then have kids that you really get what it means to parent a child. I have always loved kids. I love babysitting, I loved doing respite care for special kids. I wanted to have like 5 to 10 kids when we got married (we both did) and then after having our first we quickly realized that all those judgments come toppling on top of you as you begin to navigate the world of parenting. 

Don't get me wrong, when we were in line for redbox and a woman got her son Kick ass the movie because that is what he wanted to watch that night (he was maybe 10 or 11). I was guffawed-so I am not fully purged of parental judgments but in raising and caring, and loving your children I think you quickly have to learn to let passed judgments go and figure out how to thrive with the reality that faces you. 

That kid that you once saw screaming in the grocery store and all the people are giving the mom and child dirty looks-is now your kid

That kid who bites another child (my second kid not my first was prone to this) is now my kid-and no they don't even get spanked at home and yes, we do have rules at our home

And this past Christmas when we were at Target as a family picking out new water bottles of all things our kids were literally running around in a circle and my husband turns to me and says 

"WE are the parents of 'those' kids". 

I have heard there is some retribution like the wild child grown up has a kid who is crazy hyper and it is 'payback' but neither of us were super spirited kids.  So I can't say that I fully believe that

However, I do believe that God often in subtle ways prepares you for what lays ahead. In parenting, in marriage and in life.

I am grateful that when my husband and I were talking about our future selves, and how many children we wanted, and what kind of set up we wanted (me homemaker him breadwinner) that we both agreed on one very important thing:

That we would always have a home that is child friendly. That whatever we buy for our home-we have to be ok if it were to break, get scratched, dented etc. Not because there shouldn't be consequences or because it shouldn't be upsetting if something valuable was smashed but because there should be difference between helping curb or correct a behavior and being emotionally attached to "things" and then overreacting about whatever behavior happened" 

And I Thank the heavens we made that pact because we do have "those" kids. 

Recently, I had a box of crystal that we received as wedding presents get pushed over by an unhappy child. The crystal-although packed in bubble wrap and paper smashed and afterwards the first thing that popped into my mind was the pact we had made and I am grateful for that. 

I pray for those reminders often. 

I have come to the conclusion that we will never have the child who just hangs out and chills. That all of our children (if we are blessed another  later on-only God knows when) will be busy. I don't plan anymore about having a stretchmark free belly, toned abs, a sleeping child, that we will ever have a baby that is not colicky. And most importantly, I have learned to have compassion for other moms (okay maybe not as much for the mom who lets a child rent an R movie) but no one said I am perfect. I certainly know I am not.

So, if you are a mom of one of "those" children: The extra spirited the ones who maybe even just need extra medical care, or are prone to being sick- or any other extra-know that you are not alone. I have grown to appreciate having "those" kids. 

I give you a virtual high five and an Obama  air fist pump. And for me when days and weeks seem extra long, extra tiresome, when the whining or complaining seems extra irksome I remember what the whole point of this motherhood thing is. To help make my human beings good citizens of the world. Not perfect but just positive citizens to society.....

....and I usually figure out a way to add a treat for myself in that equation

No Gloating

"NO George NO!" Sam is telling the television right now as George is yet making another poor decision.

I want to tell Ted-the man with the Yellow hat when he says "Stay out of trouble George and be a good little monkey"

"Stop setting him up for failure sir. You are leaving a crazy monkey unattended. Its a good thing he isn't an aggressive Gorilla"

All this while I am sipping diet coke (yes I am trying to wean off real sugar-keep the bloating just not the calories...so basically empty poison) lounging in my rusting beach chair wearing paint stained sweats and watching the world in a kind of position old cranky people do when everyone is dumb and being crotchety is ignored because well...you are just old and expected to be that way.

I mean. I am only 29 but I'm working very hard on getting old (why I want to have more kids they add at least 5 extra years to your life each but it is drained from the youthful glowing beauty you realize you used to have before they emerged from newborn hood.

And yes I do think an extra 10 plus years of joy in my life is worth the youth being sucked from my once plump and unlined face. But I would like to learn not to be so surprised by it


Can I please tell you that lately being a grown up is not fun. I hate being called "mam" because yes, I look like a 'mam' and not a 'miss'. And I hated how when I went back to my family ward everyone looked so old. Because I think everyone shouldn't age including myself.

Its like being on a flat conveyer belt down a long hallway and every  couple hundreds of feet I glance over at the mirror and I'm like "aaa! who is that?!"

I feel like I should be 15 still and although I do sometimes act like it when we are into the nitty gritty of selling our home, disciplining, packing, cleaning, paying bills, saving, paying more bills from savings because of x y z I look over at my forever 25 year old looking husband and am like "being an adult is soooo boring". And I hope you get gray hair soon because I am tired of people thinking I am older. Huruumph. (He smiles politely and nods like you would to the 2 year old who is mad because her brother has parts she doesn't and why "can't she pee like a boy!?")

I dont' wish to literally be 15 again (heaven knows I am a lot happier with myself and I would like to add maybe a bit more mature and have a very wonderful life) but I dont' think I would recognize myself.

I went to dinner with a good friend from High School. And I was telling her about how I found my old California license. The one that has the picture of me when I was 15 getting my permit

Height: 5 4
Hair: blonde (a light blonde naturally)
eyes: Hazel
weight: 128 (which my sister told me when I filled out the form I was supposed to lie about my weight because everyone does-I didn't)

And a picture of a tan girl, no glasses, bright blue shirt, non smiling looking in the picture like a version of skipper from the waist up.

This year I am going to be 30. And that seems so old to me. 21 used to seem old to me and now 29 does and now I am going to be in my 30's!!!

In 10 years I will think myself being dramatic perhaps but life I think is about continually growing up. There is always more room for maturity. There is always more room to love more and have more compassion. That is a forever and ever thing but Its kind of hard to fathom that your body really does age and change despite you on the inside getting better.

Being in charge of awesome, small, exuberant, little persons is an amazing task (and huge undertaking) and although you grow into your role in what they need in different stages of their lives while always trying to maintain the dignity, tranquility and love of your home ( mostly while ignoring the cleaning of it)

Yes, the beloved Curious George is not my piece of pie (along with grammar....real words....meatloaf...literal cherry pie...) and that being an adult is totally at times exhausting but I am fully signed up for life. A good life even. And that involves a lot of nitty gritty. And I hope that one day I can judge The man with the Yellow hat while on a tandem bicycle wearing white emmaculate tennis gear with my 2-5 children behind me peddling wearing coordinating outfits with me. And instead of hissing out my judgment I'll simply say

"Oh tsk tsk. That poor man. Yellow is so not his color" in my best british accent of course. And low enough that none (or neither) of my children hear my petty judgement.