Family Pictures

I am awful about pictures. I take them but never print them. I haven't done any album organizing since Hunter's blessing. That's four years. Sad. At least I have them.... Real family pictures are even worse. Other than our engagements, we have only had pictures taken once. It was with my family, so we just happened to get one of the two of us. I feel horribly for never haven taken any with just the three of us. But we are turning a new leaf. Here they are, our first family pictures in seven years. Let's just hope they aren't the last :D Enjoy!

Here's to getting them into frames!

I'm getting Whiplash

This binky is actually from the days of Bubba. He wasn't too keen on it because of the little bumpies on the nipple. It's supposed to be good for teething. Yes well, after one or two attempts, it ended up in the toy bin. Now being Coop's domain, can I tell you how much he loves this thing? I swear when he's digging in there, this is what he's looking for.

Yes, it's cute and all. It looks like a gigantic smile. But when it catches your peripheral vision...scary. I keep thinking that he's injured and bleeding. Sheesh, you'd think after the hundredth time of whipping my head around I would know it's just the bink.

I just don't have the heart to take it from him. Oh well.

And there is One More

I spend much time in these parts speaking of my wee boys. I don't think I've taken much time to mention my third not so wee boy. Here he is. My Scotters.

Although we started out a little more like this.

I give you permission to laugh at the cheesy background and pose. You may also laugh at our baby fat cheeks. I was all of 20, he not much better at 24.

Full of love and a false sense of reality, this was 7 years ago. A lifetime right? Ha, ok. No.

In those 7 years, we have had our fair share of fun. Countless jobs, college, 4 moves, 2 kids, 3 cars, health scares, and even a layoff or two.

What's funny is I am a passionate person and don't usually have a problem speaking my mind, but I have a hard time putting us into words. Just these few sentences here have made my heart nearly explode and brought tears to my eyes. It has made me pause because my fingers can't put forth-well what that response is all about. It all just becomes cliche. The classic words used to describe the relationship a couple share become hollow and meaningless.

I can give you this...however insignificant these words may seem... Maybe it will somewhat express how I feel and you may understand who he is. If not, that's ok, as long as I do.

At the end of the day, I love how we're just the right heights for my face to fit in his neck. That I never go to sleep without a hand on my hip. He doesn't say a word when I ask him to check the doors for the third time in a row. He works an extremely stressful job with ever changing hours. He knows just how to take care of me when I'm sick (including running to the pharmacy at 2am...again). And oh the way he looks at me with his puppy dog eyes.

He is my Scotters. Maybe that's why I don't speak about him much around here. He's mine and I selfishly don't want to share him.

Big Guy has had Enough

Coop has reached several milestones in the past month. Some of the biggest include crawling, sitting up, feeding himself, and pulling himself up. Needless to say, I've been scrambling to keep up. Both in terms of his safety and my own emotions. With four years between babies, I seem to be out of practice. He appeared to be gung ho for all new things until his first time sitting in a shopping cart. He seems to want no part of it.

He laid his head down with must frustration and sighing, only lifting it once or twice with much coaxing.

His face says it all.

I think I'll give him a break for a few weeks. It looks to be too much too fast for him. Secretly I wouldn't mind a little slow-mo myself. Ok, not so secretly.

Is it Everything I Wanted?

Yes, and no. But mostly yes. ;)

Uh, oh... here is someone else being all philosophical about mother/parenthood... uh, no.

I'm not here to analyze parenting struggles and offer suggestions. I'm just gaining my own perspective on my feelings. Right? Right. This is my journal of sorts, remember? I hope that's enough disclosure and prefacing to avoid any and all ugliness.

Moving ON!

A few thoughts...

Motherhood has been what I expected in a lot of ways i.e. lots o love, laughing, playing, crying, cuddling, frustration, pulling hair out, doctor appointments, sleepless night, birthday parties.

What I didn't expect (maybe you did, you're most likely quicker than me) is the tornado of emotions attached to all of it. What do I mean by that? "Let me splain, no there is too much, let me sum up." (Sorry for the quick movie quote, I couldn't help myself.)

The simultaneous emotions in an expected situation. Like pure joy and anguish as you watch your baby learn to crawl. You want to cheer and encourage but yell at them to knock it off and be your newborn again. Or how about getting them ready for school for the first time. Wait, what? School?

Oh, then there's their health. We all "know" there will be illness or heaven forbid something more serious wrong at times. I opted out of the prenatal testing for many reasons. Now having dealt with a more serious issue, I know that was the right choice for me. Had someone told me ahead of time that my son would have seizures, any preparation I attempted wouldn't have made it any easier. (Which reminds me that I've never written an official post about that. I really should.)

I think you get my point.

There is nothing anyone can say or any book to read that explains the emotions. When you look at your child and have a physiological reaction of losing your breath because your love overwhelms you. Or the yearn that turns you inside out while holding your child when they've been sedated. Or the pain of sleepless nights caused not by a crying child, but trying to deal with all the emotions thrown at you.

Now this post is much longer and full of more randomness than truly necessary.

But really, is it everything I expected? No.

Is it everything I wanted? Yes, even if I didn't know I wanted it. The good, bad, ugly, and everything in between. Because it's mine. No one's experience will be exactly like it. I am grateful for it all, yes even the seizures. *cringe* No, I'm not wishing them on him, but it wouldn't be mine without them. :)

I'll Do it Myself

Coop will usually scream when put in his car seat, until he could get into it by himself. Case and point...

"OOOO, my size... straps to pulls on. I can reeeeeach!"

"Oh look, it rocks, too! Maybe I'll climb in."

"What Mom? Why are you taking my picture?"

"Almost there! Use those legs!"

"What? You're still there? What's the big deal?"

"Ok, fine. I'll melt your heart and smile at you."

It worked, I'm melted.

Key Strokes

I often have many blog topics running through my head (including this one) but few of them actually come to fruition.

Why, you ask?

Insecurity. Yep.

Lame, right?

But it is my reality.

I know I'm not the sharpest tack. I don't have the best grammar. My spelling is worse. (Google and my walking spell check, aka Scott, make this discernible for you.) Besides being afraid that I'm boring you all.

I blurk a lot and I compare my blog to everyone else's. They all write so eloquent. They seem so inspired and creative. So "perfect". Some of those I frequent have thousands of followers, hundreds of comments on every post, and they even advertise. I didn't even know such things were possible until recently. This makes for a ridiculous comparison, I know.

One of my favorite blogs is Mommy Snark. She loves to write and now even has her first book, of many I'm sure, being published. It's very exciting. She blogs of being nervous having others read her words. Now I'm not a writer, nor will I EVER be an author, but I understand her angst. I'm terrified to have others judging me through my writing. I guess that's why it's easier to bring you Hunter's words than my own. As cute as they are, that's only part of my goal here.

I guess the real key is that my thoughts and words represent me. Cracked, broken. Haha, big surprise, this front is not what it appears to be. I am not doing myself or my handful of followers any good by pretending it is.

So here is the truth.

I am not always in control of my emotions. Ok, rarely. I struggle to find balance. My house is lucky to be clean 20% of the time. My kids often have bedhead. My mouth often runs off without me.

I am compassionate. I am simple. I love my family and friends. I am eternally loyal. I am, well, me.

Hmm, maybe just like a lot of those I feel I fall short of. :)

In the end I try to focus on why I blog. Most important it's a journal of sorts to pass along to my kids. If they learn nothing else from my experiences, I hope they see that Mommy pushed through her fears to try new things. She let her flaws show and stepped outside her comfort zone. And when I need a little extra encouragement, I remember a very sweet comment from Aunt Renae about my writing.

I forge on.

*After writing this post, I noticed that I have a new follower!! Who? None other than Mommy Snark herself. Well looky there.

It's Good to have Backups

Scott: Hunter, take off your glasses, I wanna see your eyes.... I love those eyes!

Hunter: Yeah, they're my blue ones.

Because you have spares in other colors? He usually thinks they're orange.

Jesus, is that You?

Directly following the Sacrament prayer, Hunter leans to me and asks,

"Mommy, was that Jesus?"

I was confused..."Was what Jesus?"

"Saying the prayer, Mommy."

It's always difficult to not laugh when a child is so innocent. It's even more difficult to not laugh when it's a prohibited situation. I did giggle a little as I explained how the boys crouch behind the Sacrament table and speak into a microphone. I guess it does make sense that one would think they heard Jesus when no one is in sight and you hear a booming voice.

Cloning

In case anyone was wondering, Dolly wasn't the only thing ever cloned.

Sorry for the off center picture of Hunter. He is always trying to run around the camera to see it before the flash even goes off. Needless to say, I rarely catch him in the shot.

The picture of Hunter was taken earlier this year, making him 4 years and a little. The picture of Scott was taken for school pictures in 1983, which would make him 3 1/2. People always laugh when I question myself as the mother. Hopefully, now they understand why. Very often I am told that he looks like me. Does anyone still see that? Coop does look more like me, actually, more like Cameron. I plan on getting a picture from my mom and doing a comparison of them as well.

What do you think?

God Bless America

I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy.

Today I celebrate what our country, my America, stands for. God bless American, God bless us all.

We Laugh All Day

After church, Hunter told us about a video he watched in primary. Here is just a part of our conversation:

Hunter: I watched a movie about Joseph Smiff.

Me: What did Mr. Joseph do?

Hunter: He stole the plates.

Me: No, Moroni told him where to go get them.

Hunter: Yeah, up on the hill.

Scott: How many times did Moroni come?

Hunter: FOOOOUR times! (said with his fingers and eyebrows up)

*********

Scott: Who came to see Joseph?

Hunter: I don't remember.

Scott: Heavenly Father and Jesus.

Hunter: Yeah, and they said, 'don't join none church.' They all said, 'I'm special, no I'm special. Join me! Join me!'

Later his primary teachers showed up at our door. They wanted to tell us about sharing time and how Hunter was the spotlight. Oh how I wish we were there. He was invited to stand at the microphone and answer questions from the other primary children. Apparently it was beyond hilarious. Only for the last few questions did his teachers think to pull out their phone and get some video. I am a firm believer in no electronics at church, but I am so glad they had theirs today. They are going to email the video to us. When we get it, if I can get it to upload, I will share it. We are told the events went something like this:

What's your favorite color?

Hunter: orange

What's your favorite cake?

Hunter: orange

What's your favorite frosting?

Hunter: orange

What's your favorite ice cream?

Hunter: orange

What's your other favorite ice cream?

Hunter: strawberry

What's your favorite fruit?

Hunter: orange (no, not oranges)

What's your favorite food?

Hunter: cottage cheese

Teacher: cottage cheese? (surprised he didn't answer oranges)

Hunter: yeah, it's good for you. I'll make it for you sometime.

What's your favorite movie?

Hunter: train movie (aka Mighty Machines)

What's your favorite TV show?

Hunter: train movie

I don't think this added much to the reverence.

Later over dinner....

Hunter: Karen, do you know what a squig says?

Karen: No

Hunter: (indiscernible sound)

Karen: What's a squig?

Hunter: It's like a fish that looks like an octopus.

Karen: Oh, you mean a squid!!!

*********

Scott: What do policemen do?

Hunter: Protect the restaurants and the stores....from tornadoes!

...if only.

*********

Scott: Hunter, you say a lot of things.

Hunter: Yeah. I have a mouth.

At bedtime....

Hunter: Daddy, you can read me a story because you are out of the potty.

During his prayer....

Hunter: I'm thankful for Cooper and for my baby brother.

I can't wait for what he will say tomorrow.

Family Ties

"Daddy, my strawberries didn't want me to eat their family."

He did not respect their wishes.

Gas Stations

We give up many things when we become 'adults' (I still don't consider myself one) and even more as parents. I won't bore you with a list of things you already know. I am just missing some of my old freedom at the moment.

What I am longing for right now is going to the gas station. It sounds silly, right? I didn't realize or much less appreciate it at the time, but I miss going to the gas station. Many times, usually in late to wee hours, Scott and I would walk to the gas station. One of us would have a craving for this or that (0k, I would have a craving) and we would head out. Walk hand in hand. Slowly. With no purpose. Sometimes we'd talk, sometimes we were silent. It was fun. I miss it. I didn't realize I did until tonight. I would give just about anything to get up and walk the two blocks right about now...just about. I wouldn't give up the hugs. The laughter. Late night cuddles. Soggy secrets in my ear. Wet noses in my neck.

Someday we'll do it again. In about a decade or so.

One Night in Mommyhood

Did you ever see that episode of The Flintstones where Fred was so exhausted that he used toothpicks to keep his eyes open? Well for those of you who haven't, it didn't work. His eyelids were so heavy that they snapped the toothpicks in half and he was fast asleep. It's quite funny. I would find you a link to watch it, but I can't see past my toothpicks to find it.

My weekend moved pretty fast and now I am not. I attended the What Women Want fair on Friday, followed up by bingo. I then proceeded to throw a surprise birthday party for Scott. That event about put me on fumes due to NOTHING going right. We kind of surprised him. The Coop was not having church and I spent three hours in the foyer in very tall heals. Needless to say, I was very excited about watching a movie in bed and sleeping in a little today. Nope, didn't happen.

Most people know that I must sleep. Yes, I know, we all do. But I MUST. If I don't get 8-9 hours I don't function. What's worse, if I am woken up at the wrong time, no one is home. With this in mind, I will attempt to recall the events overnight. It could be sketchy though, I don't believe I was really present for any of it. During a couple of my trips down the hall, I was woken up by my head bobbing. I didn't know I could sleep walk. Yes, I give you permission to laugh.

The Coop is teething and he woke up the first time about 1:00. A little comfort and he was back to sleep and so was I. Not even an hour later, Hunter was at the side of my bed. I attempted to address him, but apparently failed. He got frustrated and said with stress, "You're not helping me!" I had no clue what he was talking about and asked if he would like to get in bed with me. It's all I could figure out.

I dozed for a little and realized a light was on. Only my right eye opened to see that it was Hunter's bedroom light. I guess I said something to him about it because he climbed down, turned it off and came back.

I am only aware I was up the next time because of one of the head bobbing incidents. My eyes snapped open and I realized I was heading towards a crying Coop. I tried to soothe him, but failed. I carried him back to my bed and slept while sitting up and feeding him. I am not sure how long it was before I came to. I carried him back to his bed. When I tried to lay back down, there was a Hunter head under my pillow. While trying to roll him over I discovered he was wet.

Crap.

I learned that Hunter is just as none responsive as I am. I finally got him to get up and go to the bathroom. I was headed to his room to get clean jammies. Headed... I snapped awake sitting on the edge of my bed. Again, no idea how much time elapsed. On my way I realized the kitchen light was on, not the bathroom light. I found him sitting on the bar stool with his head down, fast asleep. Haha, I was now awake enough to laugh at the situation. This was followed by another attempt to get him to the bathroom and me searching for where the mishap took place. His bed, dry. My bed, dry. I even did the sniff test. I still don't know. (Yes, I am washing both beds to be sure.)

I am aware of soothing poor teething Coop one more time and scaring the crap out of Scott just before he left for work. I don't remember hearing the alarm or him getting in the shower.

This all adds up to a fuzzy head and a lack of a shower day for me. I don't even care. I am going to roll right back into bed as I am, hopefully very soon. And if any of you are wondering where was Scott in all of this, I don't know. I wasn't together enough to wake him. I did ask Hunter several questions about it all. He remembers nothing, denies wetting the bed, and is confused why he was wearing different jammies. Cross your fingers for a quieter night for me.

Hangin'

Hunter: Mommy, what are you doing?

Me: Nothing, just hangin' out.

Hunter: Oh, I'm not. I'm hangin' in.

Me: HAHA, that's good.

Deep Thoughts

"Mommy, I have good news and I have good news. The good news is, I love you. The good news is, I love you."

It's good to be loved.

Can You Spell that Please?

So, it's no secret that my last name is a little unusual and can be a bit difficult to spell. Heck, I didn't even realize the correct spelling until Scott and I headed to Sherry Swenson's office. That should be a prerequisite for marriage. But the misspellings abound. Here are just a few:

Garring

Garing

Gerring

Gerhing (Most common and how I spelled it for a year of dating.)

Gerrying

Herring

Geuirring (My favorite and most recent.)

Gary

Garhing

Gearing

I have a friend that I babysit for and she writes Nicole G or just Nicole on the check. I can't complain. I have a friend that I write as M*scribblescribble* when in reality it's Mugleston. (And yes, I had to look that up.)

When businesses ask for my last name, I don't even say it, I just immediately spell it. The conversation usually goes something like this...

Them: Name?

Me: G E H R I N G

Them: G E R R I N G?

Me: G E H R I N G

Them: Oh, G E R I N G

Me: No, there's an H in there. (a little louder and staccato)

G E H! R I N G

Them: Sorry, I got it. G H E R I N G

Me: No. (still a little louder)G E H!! R I N G

Them: I'm sorry what?

Me: G-E-H-R-I-N-G

Them: G E H R I N G

Me: Yes, that's right. I get it all the time.

The doctor's office is always fun...

Them: Who are we seeing today?

Me: Hunter Gehring

(long pause)

Them: I'm sorry, I don't see Hunter Gary on here.

Me: No, Gehring. G E H R I N G

Them: G E?

Me: G E H R I N G

Them: Oh, there it is. (With no attempt to try and pronounce it.)

Oh, on a side note, on our paperwork, they have my last name correct, but not Scott's. I have given up on getting them to fix it. Our mail always comes to the right place.

I have to say though, I don't think that any of us actually pronounce it correctly. Obviously, it's German and I think it is pronounced Gear-ing. We all say it more like Gar-ing. My in-laws never give their name when going out to eat. It made me laugh the first time.

Host: Name?

Father-in-law: Miller

Me: What?

I learn quickly. Although, I just say Scott. Which by the way has two T's, not one. And my name does not have an H. And Stevens is spelled with a V, not a PH. But I digress.

I have also learned that you don't have to have a strange name to have these kinds of issues. My aunt's married name is Hill. She tells funny stories of having to spell and pronounce it repeatedly.

I have to say that the funniest story came from a coworker/friend from Provo. The complex we lived in put the tenants name in a small display directly above the doorbell. Mind you, I had worked with her for some time and she had seen my name many times even if she didn't know how to pronounce it. The first time she came over, she didn't even get out a "Hi" before this happened:

Jules: What is that over your doorbell?

Me: (very confused) My last name?

Jules: Oh, I thought it was directions.

Me: What? (confusion mounting)

Jules: Yeah, it's by the doorbell. You know, gerrring! gerrring!

Me: Like the sound of it ringing?

Jules: (Now feeling very dumb and sheepish) Yeah.

My friend Michele M*scribblescribble* and I laughed harder than I thought possible. I don't think Jules appreciated it. We weren't the best of friends after that.

As a kid I always wanted a more interesting name than Stevens. I guess I got it.

Sigh.

Guilty Pleasures

We all have them. Things we do when we think no one is looking. Or things we just can't live without. I have many of these, and I know you do, too!!! Don't deny it. Care to know a few of mine? Well, too bad, I'll tell you anyway.

The first, I am sure many of you know already.

I know what you're thinking....Big deal. Not to me. I am obsessed. Which is strange because I come from a strictly Coke family. Now I would never turn down a Coke if offered, but if I had the choice, HANDS DOWN, I would choose Pepsi. Or as I call it, holy nectar of the gods. What is embarrassing is how much nectar I actually drink. I'm not sure I would like to share this part with you. What I will tell you is that it's usually the first thing I drink everyday and always the last. And it's not hard to find me carrying around a vat of it from the gas station. Yep, I am one of those. One hand holding a four year old's hand, an arm through the car seat holding said vat at the end of it. I've been known to slap the counter when it's an exceptionally good one. I know, I know, it's bad for me. The pH is difficult for my body to process, the artificial sugars cause cancer, yada yada yada. I don't care. If it kills me, what a way to go.

Second, semi-sweet chocolate chips.

I buy them by the pound in the bulk section at Winco. I have many handfuls throughout the day. They also pair very well with my nectar and are usually the last thing I eat everyday. I am sure all the ladies out there completely relate to this one and all the men don't understand or care, so I'll leave it at that.

Next up, Days of our Lives.

This one I know you are all judging me on. That's OK, I forgive you. Now go check out how awesome this show is! I started watching it back in the day, about 14 years ago (BTW, when did I get old enough to say 14 years ago?) in the 7th grade. School got out at 2:50 and I would beat it for home and only miss the first ten minutes at most. I loved it. I thought Austin was oh so dreamy and he and Karie belonged together. Alas, by the 8th grade, it's time slot was moved to 2:00 and the love affair died. Fast forward a decade and Scott and I no longer have satellite. We now have a digital antenna and only get locals. So your daytime choices are soap operas or a courtroom drama. I tried to ignore it. Channel surfing through our six channels over and over, but I gave in and started watching again. What's funny is Scott enjoys it, too! (Don't tell him I told you this.) I hid it from him for a long time, but when Monday became Saturday for him, he caught me in my indulgence. Who wouldn't love a felon who gets plastic surgery to pose as an FBI agent to break up his marriage so a mobster can regain full custody of his kids? Or a woman falling in love with a man who stole her necklace to pay the PI to investigate his sister's death in a hit and run, who was best friends with fore mentioned woman, who was hit while investigating the attempted murder of the mobster because she felt indebted to him because he was her defense lawyer when she was framed for the Salem muggings which were actually committed by a PD detective while sleep walking? "That's good TV." right? (A quote from Friends, another great show, regarding Days of our Lives.) OK, you all think I'm crazy, but I am alright with that. I'll own it.

I could go on to tell you about how much I love coupons, craft blogs, and red peppers. But that wore me out. Maybe another day. Do you dare air your dirty laundry??

Eenie, Meenie, Meinie, Moe

Houston, TX

Dallas, TX

Torrance, CA

Morristown, NJ

King of Prussia, PA

Seattle, WA

Scottsdale, AZ

Wacker, IL

Washington D.C.

Ft. Lauderdale, FL

Buckhead, GA

Charlette, NC

Park Ave, NY

Palo Alto, CA

Any thoughts on these places? Good, bad, ugly? Run far, far away?

Telephone

Me: Hunter, ask Daddy to smooth down the back of your hair.

Hunter: Daddy, you need to sweep up the backyard.

What?

Hearts, Stars, Horseshoes, Clovers and Blue Moons!

We had a fabulous St. Paddy's Day. This included good food, friends, and a new garbage disposal. As you can see, we had one of my favorites...breakfast for dinner. Rainbow pancakes and green eggs. One of my guests suggested that the eggs could have been the gold at they end of the rainbow. True, but how often do you get to eat green eggs? It was deeelish.

I also made party favors for my guests. FYI, spray paint doesn't stick to Terra Cotta very well. I wrapped the licorice in plastic wrap and added some gold. Cute eh?
I really should have gotten some pics of our friends with their lovely treats. Ooops.

On the side note, our garbage disposal's motor was burned out. They also found a rusty pipe and that the sink wasn't attached. Nice. Gotta love a rental. Really lovin' that we didn't pay for it.

Haddy Paddy everyone!!!

March Madness

The legs are shaved, the shorts are dusted off, tissues and decongestants are put away...and then the madness sets in. Just when you think the coast is clear, it gets you. You end up wishing your warm woolly blanket was back on your bed. March plays a cruel game and every year, we fall for it. It drives me truly mad! We need the warm weather. I need to defrost. I absolutely refuse to to get my heavy coat back out. I guess I'll settle for a cardigan. Bah!

Please excuse my segmented sentences and general rambling. I think it's the madness setting in.

In this Moment

I smell the onions and peppers I'm cooking for fajita burritos.

I see Coop kicking his feet while sitting in his bouncy seat at my feet.

I have the evening sunlight reflecting off my computer screen and its warmth on my back.

I hear the evening news rambling on about the dire conditions of our world.

I know Coop is trying and succeeding at getting my attention with his cooing.

I have a hip high boy asking for hugs.

I am brushing the crumbs off my socks from a floor that is desperately needing to be swept.

I have bangs hanging in my eyes that would benefit from a bobby pin.

I am aware of trucks rumbling by and the neighbors dog barking.

I am content and enjoying every bit of it.

Catch you later dire world, time to sit with my family and have a diet Pepsi.

Scrooge

Or maybe overprotective?

My boys are growing up fast. TOO fast. I don't like it. I wish I could keep them 4 years and 4 months for a little while longer. Who knows how many kiddos I will get to have? So what's a mama to do?

I think there are appropriate ages for most activities. There are the obvious ones like no driving or having a job until 16. And those that are a little more subjective, you know, shaving legs and mascara wait until you're 12. Granted I won't need to worry about those. I will be facing the issue of forcing them to bathe and use deodorant. But the issue of the moment is... wait for it.... sleepovers.

Sleepovers? Really? Isn't it a little early to be having this conversation?

Maybe it's those darn growth hormones, they're speeding everything up. OK, maybe not. But I'll say it again. REALLY?

I will also restate this: HE IS FOUR!

Are the caps too much? I'm feeling slightly passionate. Unfortunately, it often comes off as just mad. I'll stop. REALLY! :D

Back to the problem at hand.

He's four. Four and four months. Not like four and eleven months, or I don't know.... ten. Now, I am not sure that ten is the magically appropriate age for sleepovers, but it seems a little better than four. Obviously, I feel the need to keep him safe. I don't think that a four year old is capable of this on pretty much any level in my absence or maybe even in my presence. He enjoys such past times as licking all manner of germ infested things, leaning against precarious furniture, poking others in the eye, etc etc etc.

The world is a very different place than it was twenty years ago. I don't think we need to go into such things, but do think they need to be considered. And until we can have conversations to address these numerous unnamed issues to create understanding, it's just not happening. So if that qualifies me as a Scrooge or overprotective, then I am ok with that label.

So are you as Scrooge-like as I am? Feel the need to rebuke me? Maybe slap me into reality? Click and let me know what you think.

Happy parenting!

Any Guesses?

Hunter's latest word that left us laughing? Pewkip If you can guess what he was trying to say I will be very surprised, but will reward you with a Coke! Happy guessing!

Chef Hunter

Hunter has a passion for terrorizing, um I mean helping me in the kitchen. So I thought I would give him a project that he would love and maybe nourish his interest. As you can see he is doing much better with his glasses these days, thanks for all your love and concern.

Of course we have to dress for the occasion.
I learned that cutting through pie dough isn't as easy as I thought it would be.

We went for apple and cherry fillings. A dispute of which is better will forever rage in our home.After Dad helped Hunter paint the egg wash with his finger, he thought he should help Daddy do it, too.He also tells me that when he grows bigger that he will be the Daddy and Scott will be the Bubba. I guess this is him trying to be in charge.

They came out mighty tasty and Hunter was very please with himself. I recommend if you attempt to make these, roll the dough as thin as you possibly can. Then your dough and filling ratio is much better. Happy Valentines!

Learning to Walk

Okay, I need to talk. Or some advice. Or encouragement. Or maybe just to vent.

My bubba now needs glasses. I always thought he would, he comes from two very blind families. I just never thought it would be this soon, I mean he's only four. Barely. Scott and I didn't enter the world of becoming legally blind until twelve and ten. The upside is he looks adorable in them. Glasses are much more flattering these days. No tortoise shell pop bottle glasses that are so large that they may chip a tooth if you're not careful. And he really seems excited about them. See?

Well, mostly. We worked really hard at getting him pumped up, and it worked...until he actually tried to function with them. I had no idea how bad his vision is. He is almost as blind as I am in one eye. It took me nearly twenty years to get that blind.

Sigh.

I know that I can't function without my lenses and what's worse is he only has that vision in one eye. The other is a minor correction. I can only imagine his lack of depth perception.

The new problem is he is relearning to do everything. It is breaking my heart to watch him attempt to walk. He is petrified. Holding my hand so tight I think I have bruises. He took them off in the office and said, "That's better." He begged me to carry him to the car. As I sit here, I am watching him get down on his hands and knees to crawl.

Tear.

I don't know how to help him. I keep telling myself that kids are resilient, he'll adjust. I have to encourage him to do things like normal. I remember when he learned to walk the first time, that it was a game for him. It's how he played. I guess we'll be applying the same things here. Maybe I'll learn to walk along with him.

Elusive

This guy is a little camera shy. Just try and get a pic of his grin. He's been smiling for a good six weeks now and this is the ONLY pic I have come up with. I guess he is just as stubborn as his mama. Hopefully I can get a bigger one soon. It's just so cute, I so badly want to share it. Wish me luck!

Thank You Anne

Craftier

I have never been artistic or remotely creative. My abilities have only ever extended as far as crocheting and even that was only because I am good at small, repetitive tasks mixed thoroughly with an unhealthy dose of perfectionism. Just ask my mom about my ability to pick wallpaper. Or the aptitude test I took in school that told me I should be a factory worker. So for me to even have the desire is commendable. And oh do I have an itch to scratch.

What I have attempted lately has been very easy, but looks more amazing than I really am. Last minute I decided to create this for my miracle twin cousins who just turned 1! Because if I am not rushing with a deadline looming, then there is no sense in doing it.

I figured it would be fun to celebrate every inch of our miracle babies. We all love them so much and wished and prayed, and wished and prayed, and wished and prayed some more for them to be a part of our family. Now their parents can mark their growth.

I was able to do this with a little wood, paint, stickers, mod podge, and couple hours of time. It only took that long because of dry time. What's strange is how fulfilled I am with these little projects. Yet with each completion, my craving to do more gets stronger. Maybe it's the paint fumes.