Mr M. is:
1. Funny, this boy makes me laugh daily, he love to dance, sing, be silly and active
2. The best sharer ever! He is so willing to share what he has it astounds me.
3. A champion self entertainer. He can play by himself for hours and hours.
4. Determined, if he sets his mind to it, he can do it, every time!
5. Five years old! Today!
Happy birthday my big boy!
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
Ow
I started P90X on Friday -- Owwww
This system is no joke, it is really tough. But I'm gonna finish it.
My friend Katie is doing it with me. It's great to have someone here with me to laugh with when we need a light moment through the pain. I haven't taken my before picture yet, but probably will tomorrow when A. is home. I'm pretty sure I will not post them, maybe at the end, we'll see.
Miss M. got her first tooth a few weeks ago -- Owwww, she said.
I'm a little sad that she's started so early. Her little gummy smile will be gone soon, and I love that gummy smile. I guess I'll fall in love with a new toothy one.
Started teaching Mr. M. how to read using the SRA Distart Reading Program. Sometimes his brain says Owwww.
This is an amazing teaching program that I used with E. and he picked it up quickly. Mr. M. is a little slower going, but their learning styles are different, I have to remember that. He loves to look at books and be read to, it will be fun for him to do it himself. He starts Kindergarten this year, I'm hoping this will help him have a leg up. He's a smart boy, he'll get it and he will be so happy.
A. is thinking about competing in the Olympics for his profession. It's been several year since he's trained to compete, so he's starting to really push himself. Sometimes he says Owwww.
E. scored his first touchdown in football on Friday night. He didn't say Owwww, I just had to tell everyone what a proud mama I am of him. On the way home he wanted to know if we could start partying to celebrate, it was 830pm, past bedtime so the partying had to wait a few hours.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Normal V. Boring
I fancy myself a fun person. I enjoy a good laugh and will usually do anything if dared to, crave travel and adventure, and love me a good party; but today my friend Gina and I were discussing whether we are normal or boring.
I don't watch any of the 'Real Housewives of...', have never seen a whole episode of 'Survivor', 'Jersey Shore' or 'Big Brother'. I just don't crave that kind of drama. I don't think it's fun or entertaining to be mean spirited to others, nor do I think it's funny to watch people who do nothing but get drunk, make fools of themselves and have no other ambition in life than to sleep with as many people as possible. I just don't understand the draw for these 'reality' shows. If they do reflect reality, it's a sad world we live in.
I try not to gossip, when some one tells me something personal, whether it be in strict confidence or not, I don't pass that information on to others: it is not my story to tell. It would hurt my feelings massively to hear someone say something about me that isn't true or that I thought was shared in confidence.
While I require girls' night occasionally, I prefer the company of my husband over anyone else in the world. We enjoy each other. We rarely fight, have never really yelled at each other, never belittle one another. We are happy. We don't hold grudges, if there is a problem, we solve it together, no 3rd party required. We try to be kind and respectful to each other. Each of us sacrifices our pride regularly. I don't enjoy hearing others talk about their husbands or men in general as if they are stupid, insensitive, incapable, blundering idiots. A. is none of those things, and I don't think it is helpful to any relationship to harbor those kinds of feelings about someone. I'm not saying my marriage and relationship is perfect, there are times when he frustrates me (mostly when I want him to read my mind and he can't), but it is an excellent one.
My children are not a nuisance, they bring me joy, they make me laugh, they test me and regularly drive me crazy, they also are actively molding me into a better person.
I try not to swear. It is inappropriate that so many people on 'reality' TV use foul language in their everyday lives, and shame on the editors for using so many clips of their subjects featuring a swear word. Sure it is bleeped out, but anyone watching knows what is said based on context. Why does anyone even need those words suggested?
I don't believe in going in to debt for super cars (we have a very adequate used one), extravagant vacations (an adventure is best enjoyed when it is planned out and saved for), expensive clothes (I'm still wearing some of my maternity pants because I don't fit in my pre-pregnancy clothes and I refuse to buy more until I've lost all of my baby weight). In fact, any debt, no matter the size, stresses me out: a lot. My motto is the cheaper the better and free is best.
I grew up in Nevada and have never gambled in my entire life; not even put a nickel in a slot machine. The odds of a return are never high enough for me. I will never take my family to Las Vegas for vacation. Anyone who says that Las Vegas has made itself 'family friendly' is fooloing themselves. There is a problem when my children would have to divert their eyes from the bill boards so they don't see something they would have a hard time forgetting. There is a problem when I have to explain to my children what the fliers say that are handed out on the street. There is a problem when those 'video games' for grown-ups look an awful lot like an arcade. I won't subject my children to those problems.
So you tell me: am I normal or am I boring?
I don't watch any of the 'Real Housewives of...', have never seen a whole episode of 'Survivor', 'Jersey Shore' or 'Big Brother'. I just don't crave that kind of drama. I don't think it's fun or entertaining to be mean spirited to others, nor do I think it's funny to watch people who do nothing but get drunk, make fools of themselves and have no other ambition in life than to sleep with as many people as possible. I just don't understand the draw for these 'reality' shows. If they do reflect reality, it's a sad world we live in.
I try not to gossip, when some one tells me something personal, whether it be in strict confidence or not, I don't pass that information on to others: it is not my story to tell. It would hurt my feelings massively to hear someone say something about me that isn't true or that I thought was shared in confidence.
While I require girls' night occasionally, I prefer the company of my husband over anyone else in the world. We enjoy each other. We rarely fight, have never really yelled at each other, never belittle one another. We are happy. We don't hold grudges, if there is a problem, we solve it together, no 3rd party required. We try to be kind and respectful to each other. Each of us sacrifices our pride regularly. I don't enjoy hearing others talk about their husbands or men in general as if they are stupid, insensitive, incapable, blundering idiots. A. is none of those things, and I don't think it is helpful to any relationship to harbor those kinds of feelings about someone. I'm not saying my marriage and relationship is perfect, there are times when he frustrates me (mostly when I want him to read my mind and he can't), but it is an excellent one.
My children are not a nuisance, they bring me joy, they make me laugh, they test me and regularly drive me crazy, they also are actively molding me into a better person.
I try not to swear. It is inappropriate that so many people on 'reality' TV use foul language in their everyday lives, and shame on the editors for using so many clips of their subjects featuring a swear word. Sure it is bleeped out, but anyone watching knows what is said based on context. Why does anyone even need those words suggested?
I don't believe in going in to debt for super cars (we have a very adequate used one), extravagant vacations (an adventure is best enjoyed when it is planned out and saved for), expensive clothes (I'm still wearing some of my maternity pants because I don't fit in my pre-pregnancy clothes and I refuse to buy more until I've lost all of my baby weight). In fact, any debt, no matter the size, stresses me out: a lot. My motto is the cheaper the better and free is best.
I grew up in Nevada and have never gambled in my entire life; not even put a nickel in a slot machine. The odds of a return are never high enough for me. I will never take my family to Las Vegas for vacation. Anyone who says that Las Vegas has made itself 'family friendly' is fooloing themselves. There is a problem when my children would have to divert their eyes from the bill boards so they don't see something they would have a hard time forgetting. There is a problem when I have to explain to my children what the fliers say that are handed out on the street. There is a problem when those 'video games' for grown-ups look an awful lot like an arcade. I won't subject my children to those problems.
So you tell me: am I normal or am I boring?
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Friday, February 3, 2012
Just Thinkin'
This weather is perfect, strange that it's January, feels like it should be April.
E started flag football this week, something new to see if he loves or not. He's been going with A to the archery range, and loves it. Uh-oh, here comes another expensive hobby.
I will not feel bad about sitting and staring at Miss M for extended lengths of time. I am in love and it's totally acceptable. The dishes will still be dirty, the floor will still need to be vacuumed, the laundry will still need to be folded. But she will only be this small for a very short period of time, and I'm drinking her in until I'm full.
I took all of my maternity clothes and any boy clothes that Mr. M has grown out of: all the baby stuff, toddler stuff, to the DI bin. A small part of me is a little sad. I love my baby boys and am mourning their growing too big for a lot of things, both physical and emotional.
Last week my feelings of missing my mom were thicker than usual. I'm not sure why, but I'm glad that the salve of happiness is returning.
A will be starting a new work schedule in April. It will be a 4/10 work week instead of 3 weeks of 3/12 shifts and 1 week of 4/12 shifts. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand his days off will be predictable, and he will be at home more on the days that he has to work. But it sure is nice having him home at least four days per week most of the time.
The sick stomach is making it's rounds through our family. I sure hope it skips the baby. The good news, it seems to only last 1 day.
I'm mad at Netflix right now. For some reason it isn't streaming through our BluRay player. A could explain the reasons to you, but I'm not down with all the technical jargon, he told me why, but it didn't stick to any of my brain. I just know that my evening routine post boy bedtime is off without my British dramas to watch while I'm cooing at Miss M before her 10pm bedtime.
I must have 'hack into my online accounts' written somewhere in the web o' sphere because both my email and my iTunes accounts have been hacked in the last 2 weeks. I'm glad that iTunes figured out that I probably didn't buy 5 books with titles written in Asian lettering and refunded my money.
I'm going with my sister and sister-in-law to Italy in seven years. I've started saving my pennies already. Anticipation is something I excel at so the next 84 months should be interesting.
E started flag football this week, something new to see if he loves or not. He's been going with A to the archery range, and loves it. Uh-oh, here comes another expensive hobby.
I will not feel bad about sitting and staring at Miss M for extended lengths of time. I am in love and it's totally acceptable. The dishes will still be dirty, the floor will still need to be vacuumed, the laundry will still need to be folded. But she will only be this small for a very short period of time, and I'm drinking her in until I'm full.
I took all of my maternity clothes and any boy clothes that Mr. M has grown out of: all the baby stuff, toddler stuff, to the DI bin. A small part of me is a little sad. I love my baby boys and am mourning their growing too big for a lot of things, both physical and emotional.
Last week my feelings of missing my mom were thicker than usual. I'm not sure why, but I'm glad that the salve of happiness is returning.
A will be starting a new work schedule in April. It will be a 4/10 work week instead of 3 weeks of 3/12 shifts and 1 week of 4/12 shifts. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand his days off will be predictable, and he will be at home more on the days that he has to work. But it sure is nice having him home at least four days per week most of the time.
The sick stomach is making it's rounds through our family. I sure hope it skips the baby. The good news, it seems to only last 1 day.
I'm mad at Netflix right now. For some reason it isn't streaming through our BluRay player. A could explain the reasons to you, but I'm not down with all the technical jargon, he told me why, but it didn't stick to any of my brain. I just know that my evening routine post boy bedtime is off without my British dramas to watch while I'm cooing at Miss M before her 10pm bedtime.
I must have 'hack into my online accounts' written somewhere in the web o' sphere because both my email and my iTunes accounts have been hacked in the last 2 weeks. I'm glad that iTunes figured out that I probably didn't buy 5 books with titles written in Asian lettering and refunded my money.
I'm going with my sister and sister-in-law to Italy in seven years. I've started saving my pennies already. Anticipation is something I excel at so the next 84 months should be interesting.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Miss M
Here are the much anticipated pictures of our Little Miss M. The one with Mr. M holding her she's yawning, not crying.
Monday, December 26, 2011
In Love
I was so nervous I wouldn't be. I was afraid I wouldn't like this little miss very much. I remembered how hard brand new babies are, and I was scared.
But: I am In Love.
She is so laid back and easy, if she cries there is a reason. She sleeps like a champ, eats predictably, and is about the sweetest thing I've seen in at least 4 years.
I love her blond but long eyelashes, her tiny toe nails, the wrinkle around her wrists, her double dimpled cheeks, the way she bops herself in the nose when she sneezes, her cry that sounds like an 'h', the tai chi she performs when she has a full tummy and is checking the world out, her friar tuck hairstyle, the puppy noises she makes when she's sleeping.
It's almost not fair how much I get to love her.
But: I am In Love.
She is so laid back and easy, if she cries there is a reason. She sleeps like a champ, eats predictably, and is about the sweetest thing I've seen in at least 4 years.
I love her blond but long eyelashes, her tiny toe nails, the wrinkle around her wrists, her double dimpled cheeks, the way she bops herself in the nose when she sneezes, her cry that sounds like an 'h', the tai chi she performs when she has a full tummy and is checking the world out, her friar tuck hairstyle, the puppy noises she makes when she's sleeping.
It's almost not fair how much I get to love her.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Little Miss
Little Miss M made her grand entrance at 8am. She is perfectly lovely. She looks almost exactly like E. She is feeding well, and content most of the time. We are so blessed to have her in our family.
Will post a picture eventually, still getting into the swing of things.
Will post a picture eventually, still getting into the swing of things.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Honestly
Ask some of my oldest and dearest friends what one of my character traits is and one of the top will more than likely be my honesty. If you ask my opinion, or for help on something or for advice, I will always give you my honest thoughts. If you are one of my close friends, sometimes the thoughts may seem harsh, but I never give them in a mean spirited way. I expect that if you ask me, it's because you really want to know, so I will tell you. Of course I strive to give it as tactfully as possible and with as much cushioning as possible, but it will be the truth, you are guaranteed that. This is always done with love and I know that the understanding between us will make the truth palatable. I would expect nothing less from my friends. If I ask it, I don't want to be lied to, I want to know. I rarely take offense and assume that others are the same (maybe this isn't such a super assumption, but hey, I'm being honest here). My good friends love me because of (or maybe in spite of) this. I have a hard time with people who ask loaded questions then get their feelings hurt because they didn't hear the answer they had been hoping for. Often times when a question is asked and I'm not sure how the truth will be received I will ask, "Do you want the truth or an easier answer?" I will never offer my opinion or advice that might seem unkind without being asked. Simply: if you don't want to know, don't ask. If I have never complimented your shoes, and it will make you cry to know that I think they are hideous, don't ask. If I have never said your baby is cute, go ahead and assume that I think he is, but don't ask, because I just may not think that Jr. is adorable. And on the flip side, I don't give compliments or praise that I am not sincere about. I won't tell you that you look like you've lost weight or that your new haircut is super cute, if I don't honestly believe it.
Another of my traits that my close friends know about is that I have an exceptional aversion to strangers. I have a hard time chatting with people who I don't know well, have little in common with, will probably never/have no desire to ever see again.
And lastly, another aspect of my personality: I am not a toucher. I find almost all kinds of touch to be very intimate, and only appropriate in certain conditions: being physical with my husband, snuggling my big and little babies, a hug and kiss for my dad, a hug for a friend in need (a touch I use only when I feel 100% it is needed), a pat on the back for a friend who has done well, a handshake with a member of the ward. I am frequently astounded at the casualness with which some people use these kinds of touch. The 60 year old man (who I have on good authority talks about his appreciation or disapproval of the physiques of ladies in the ward) who will rub my back as I pass by, the overly friendly bagger at the grocery store who strokes the hair of my children, or tickles them on the back, the complete stranger (or even casual acquaintance) who assumes because I'm pregnant that I will appreciate a hand on my belly. I don't get it and I certainly don't welcome it.
Here's the problem: Why can't I use my honesty to tell these people to stop, that I would prefer to not be touched, or stroked, or manhandled in anyway. Why am I so up front with those I love and so scared of hurting the feelings of these people who I have no connection with? Do I care more about these strangers taking offense than those who really matter? Is the fear of confrontation so ingrained in me that I sit back and let people do what they want for fear of their backlash? Why do I care?! I don't know. Honestly, I don't.
Another of my traits that my close friends know about is that I have an exceptional aversion to strangers. I have a hard time chatting with people who I don't know well, have little in common with, will probably never/have no desire to ever see again.
And lastly, another aspect of my personality: I am not a toucher. I find almost all kinds of touch to be very intimate, and only appropriate in certain conditions: being physical with my husband, snuggling my big and little babies, a hug and kiss for my dad, a hug for a friend in need (a touch I use only when I feel 100% it is needed), a pat on the back for a friend who has done well, a handshake with a member of the ward. I am frequently astounded at the casualness with which some people use these kinds of touch. The 60 year old man (who I have on good authority talks about his appreciation or disapproval of the physiques of ladies in the ward) who will rub my back as I pass by, the overly friendly bagger at the grocery store who strokes the hair of my children, or tickles them on the back, the complete stranger (or even casual acquaintance) who assumes because I'm pregnant that I will appreciate a hand on my belly. I don't get it and I certainly don't welcome it.
Here's the problem: Why can't I use my honesty to tell these people to stop, that I would prefer to not be touched, or stroked, or manhandled in anyway. Why am I so up front with those I love and so scared of hurting the feelings of these people who I have no connection with? Do I care more about these strangers taking offense than those who really matter? Is the fear of confrontation so ingrained in me that I sit back and let people do what they want for fear of their backlash? Why do I care?! I don't know. Honestly, I don't.
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