And Riley turned 8!

I need to give big props to my sister, Muffy. She and my brother-in-law Chris came to Riley's birthday party with us to Chuck E. Cheese, and then afterwards, made this picture collage. They are both troopers and when I innocently invite them to things, they come. Regardless of the fact that they know I will ask them to help me out. So, thanks Muff and Chris, for all you do. I don't think it would have been as fun or organized, without you guys.

Anyway, Riley turned eight! (Get ready for your question to be answered, Keri). Her birthday was actually on the 14th, but we celebrated her party on the 12th, as that was a Saturday. I told Riley she could invite a lot of friends, but by the time we weeded out the kids whose feelings would be hurt, and thinned out the girls that Riley really likes verses the ones she says are, "kinda mean", I reneged on that plan and said that she could invite one friend. It turned out better that way, because then they could have a buddy to go around to all the games and stuff with, but they wouldn't get into the little cliques that always seem to occur at birthday parties. Riley chose her best girlfriend from school, Olivia. Olivia brought her younger brother, Henry to come as well. That way, Cole would have someone, too. They all had a fun time, and were funny to watch. Riley and Olivia went out and played games like mad....and Cole had Jeff go around with him for a while, so that left Henry by himself, and he didn't really know what to do, as he hadn't been there before. He came over to the table with me, and told me it was time for him to go home because his birthday had been yesterday and his dad was putting together his Star Wars Lego Star Fighter. I told him to take these two tokens, and go have Jeff show him how to play one of the games. He did as I said, and quickly became a junkie. Each time he ran back, breathless with a handful of tickets, (a thousand, according to his count), and would ask for "Just two more....", tokens. I'd give him a little handful, and off he'd go. He was at the same game for the entire time. Riley was a skee-ball expert. She and Olivia spent the majority of their time there and Cole basically wanted to ride all the jeeps and spaceships and other little rides that I never let him ride when we go into a store.
After Riley opened her presents, and we had exhausted all the tokens, and gorged ourselves on pizza, it was time to get Olivia and Henry home, and time for my nap. The night before I'd tossed and turned, and I could only take two hours of screaming, playing kids. So we all headed back to Springville and dropped the friends off. Then we got to go home, and I told everyone I had to take a nap, in order to avoid being seriously grouchy for the rest of evening. (Oddly enough, I heard no protests). Jeff and Cole and Riley all got a trampoline from Grandpa Steele this year for their birthdays. Since we go to Canada tomorrow morning, I told them it would be better to set it up when we got back. Jeff gave me a "yeah, sure", and I practically ran to my room....lusting after my bed. After a couple hours, I woke up to a quiet house...highly unusual for us. I grabbed some pajama pants and a clean shirt and went down stairs, wondering where my children and husband were. To my surprise, they were in our backyard with the trampoline two-thirds finished. I have to say, it's enormous. I tried telling Jeff this before he put it up, but he couldn't appreciate my actual honesty until he had started working on it. So we all played on the trampoline for about three hours, and it was time to go to bed. Surprisingly, for my kids, they were out within ten minutes of laying down. But before they were out, Riley told us that this was the best birthday she'd had in a long time. This made me feel good, especially since I'm that crap mom that has to take a nap on her special day. But she said that she had so much fun, and that she has the best parents ever, and that she loves how we play with her, because that means we love her when we spend time with her. That actually kind of broke my heart, because it's hard to make time for my kids. I am with them practically all day long, but not WITH them, I've got all this other stuff going on. So I was happy that she'd had a good birthday, sans birthday blues. The trampoline turned out to be a great gift, not only because it's tons of fun, but also, we really have family time with it...we play ball, and we bounce, and we laugh. It's been so nice to have something that takes us outside to all play together. Okay all, I have gotta get my last-minute items packed, including this computer. We're on our way to Canada tomorrow, so hopefully I'll get to post while I'm up there, as well. Later!

due date

I'll keep this short, as I was up all night barfing. Pregnancy is such a beautiful part of womanhood. I went to my Doctor's office, and he did a very thorough check of my lady business, and this kid is due November 10. So, I'm almost through my first trimester. Which is good, however, I'm sick the entire time, so basically it's just me counting the days down until I can have my body back and use it as I will. Also, tradition has shown me that my little ones like to stay where they are for as long as possible. So I'm predicting that this baby won't be here until I make my doctor cave just by letting him in on how unstable I am in the last month. I'm thinking....November 23rd. So there you all are, that's all for right now. Ciao.

I am awesome.

I've been online for a while tonight. Checking other's blogs. Trying to get some ideas for my own posts; something that doesn't fully revolve around my children or my husband. Not that I get tired of these subjects, I just wonder if others do. And then I realized that I don't have a lot going on. If you take Jeff, Riley, and Cole out of my life's day to day, I'm a really boring person. Today I went to Sam's, as in, Sam's Warehouse Store. (See?) I noticed a tall, skinny girl standing behind me wearing skintight jeans, a low-cut top, and bright red high-heels with little white lacy socks. That was interesting. Her hair was, too. It was a black bob with about six, inch wide streaks of blood red throughout. She looked like she could be older than I, however, I'm not a good judge on stuff like that. When women wear a lot of make-up, it completely blows any chance I may have had at guessing their age. It totally throws me off. As I stood in line, trying to appear to be reading the directions on my new boat-sized bottle of shampoo, I found myself checking out her outfit and hair, and trying to evaluate her age; wondering what she does for a living. Then I focused on what she was buying. A humongous package of AA batteries and a humongous chocolate fudge cake. I suddenly had all these rude, kind of obscene, and somewhat catty thoughts about what she would need with those items. And then I had to mentally chastise myself, because I have become this total wench that stands in store lines and judges people for what they are buying. Embarrassed, I looked at the conveyor belt that now held my stuff: the aforementioned shampoo, a gigantic bottle of stool-softeners, some fiber capsules, and Miralax. Oh, and some strawberries, for my kids. Clearly, I have reason to be judgemental. I stood there contemplating my items and hers...and imagining a conversation we'd have, because we obviously have so much in common.

Me to girl: "Hey, I like your hair. I've always wanted to do something like that, but have been too wimpy to try...I'm 30, and I'm just not sure how well it would go over. But I am wearing two braids, see? I can be a little out-of-control sometimes."

Girl to me: "Oh, I would have never guessed you were 30. You totally look younger than that. And I love those braids, they are definitely making a subliminal statement.

Me to girl: "Ahhh, thanks. Also, I've been admiring your clothing ensemble. I can't wear skinny jeans. But I am pregnant. So I can't really wear skinny anything right now." (We both laugh, because in my imaginary dialog I am hilarious).

Girl to me: "You're pregnant? I totally would have never known. (If you would have seen her, you'd agree she'd be a person that says 'totally' a lot). How far along are you?" (Now I would have to lie, because I can't let her know I've never been able to wear skinny jeans...not since I was eight). (Also, in my imagination she's never been pregnant in her life, because she has one of those model bodies. And if she has, I won't waste a perfectly good delusion with reality).

Me to Girl: "Well, I have a few more months left, but I'm already feeling like I'm done being pregnant, you know?"

Girl to Me: "I've never been, but I can imagine." (We then end our conversation because it's time for me to purchase my stool-softeners).

Yes, it's a bit pathetic that I played out that entire scene in my head. And she probably thought I was mentally handicapped--especially because I have a severe staring problem when I'm daydreaming, and who seriously reads the directions on their shampoo? This is the kind of crap you have struggle through when it's all about me. I like to pretend that I'm a lot more interesting than I am....but this is it; like my picture, rolls and zit-cream and all. If I wasn't married, if I wasn't a mom, this would be all I had. So be grateful for me having others that I can tattle on, and tell stories about,and possibly over-exaggerate about. Need I say more? Please, please, no.

My birthday boy

So today my little boy turned 5. If you ask him how old he is, he'll just hold up his hand with his five little fingers splayed starfish-like. Then if you ask him what number that is, he'll reply fourteen-two. Even after counting all of his extended fingers to five. He's my kid, and numbers aren't apparently on his need-to-know list yet. Except when it comes to counting his transformers. Then he really takes notice. Apparently I'm a breeder of shallow children. This entire day has been filled with Cole telling strangers and family alike that it IS his birthday, and he IS expecting gifts. (You can vouch for this, can't you Amy?) This morning started off fine. I woke up later than usual, neglecting my morning 3 mile walk to try to decorate for Cole's special day; I'm thoughtful like that. I was going to do something special for breakfast, but at Jeff's request, and because we're all kind of grossed out by food that early in the AM, I didn't. And I didn't mind a single bit. So I woke Riley at 7:30 and as usual, she was highly offended that I woke her, much less a half hour earlier than normal. She got the clothes on that SHE picked out for today, (please notice that it's neither Friday, or a day she speaks in front of her class--am I growing? Leaps and bounds, my friends.) and I went to wake Jeff. He's been doing a lot of freelance, and it's kept him up until around 2 a.m. each morning. He's not a chipper morning person anyway, so the only thing that saved me is the birth of our son five years ago. Jeff got to wake the birthday boy, as it rarely ever happens. I was frankly amazed Cole was still asleep, because last night he was awake until at least midnight, asking every thirty minutes if it was morning and therefore, his birthday, yet. Anyway, it didn't take long for him to insist that we all go downstairs and "watch him open all his presents". He's never been this excited about a birthday before, so I was pretty interested in how the next ten minutes would pan out. I had to post this video, because it says everything I really couldn't:


I know it was a bit lengthy, however, my delightfully and melodically shrill voice, on top of the stops and starts, should have been well worth it. Also, if you didn't make it all the way through, I totally understand. What I really wanted you to notice was what he said about me being able to return a different toy. Both of my children have witnessed my relationship with retail and returning. If there's something cheaper, better, or more needed, I have no qualms about returning or exchanging things. (As long as it's not damaged or used...I have some standards). He had been waiting for that particular Transformer for two weeks. It's name was Ravage, but he calls it Cabbage. It took me a while and Jeff to spell it out for me, that Ravage was Cabbage, and vice-versa. Anyway, because he got it for his birthday, I could return his toy that he bought with his birthday money yesterday. He wanted to make sure that this was an absolute keeper; willing to sacrifice another toy to make sure he wouldn't have to let this one go. I've had to explain to him a couple times today that Cabbage is his, no matter what. I won't take his birthday gift back, even if he is driving me crazy. (I forgot to mention that sometimes this is a bargaining tool for me, too. i.e.: "If you don't clean your room, pick up your books, get in the bath, etc., I will take every one of your toys back to the store.) So maybe I have a few more motherhood kinks to work out. Overall, today was pretty good. Cole let me take a nap, something that I pretty much do everyday, but it was his birthday, so I feel immense guilt about that. He'd come into my room a few times while I slept, to tell me about something he created with his new toys, but I think the fact that he had these new toys is my only saving grace. Otherwise I'd feel like a totally negligent mother, and not a mostly-negligent mother, like usual.
So now it's time to go to sleep, lately my favorite time of day. Jeff and I sent Cole to bed, hopped up on his shake from Carl's Jr. This, thanks to his great-grandma and grandpa Teeples, is now his favorite restaurant. I don't recommend it if your stomach is a bit sketchy anyway...the outcome isn't good. He had to have a wind down period, a little down-time, too. He kind of got weepy and told us that he didn't want his birthday to be over. He wanted to get lots of presents tomorrow, too, and when we told him he'd have to wait until next year, he had to cry for a few moments, and be overly sad about this day ending. He saw the birthday card that his grandma Fairbanks gave him and picked it up and hugged it. Melodrama runs deep in this family. Jeff and I told him we loved him and it was time for bed, and I asked for one last picture. He surprised us by saying, "I love you mom, I love you dad....thanks for all the birthday presents you gived me. I'm gonna go clean my room and then play wiff dem.
Jeff and I looked at each other and laughed. Sometimes that's the only thing you can do as parents, because your kids surprise and confuse you so much. So goodnight, my sweet boy, though tomorrow is just another day, it's another day with you in it, and for that, I'm so thankful.
Happy Birthday!

Ahem. I've an announcement.

Hello to you all once again. I'm pretty proud of myself for so diligently keeping up with this blog stuff. With all the driving back and forth to school, running kids to various classes, and multiple trips to fast food places, I'm amazed I can squeeze it all in. I'm assuming that because of this, a few things that I say might just fall through the cracks, as it's all been heard before. This is fine to me. Some things that I say are regretted ten minutes after I've written them...and I have a personal policy that rather than take it all back, I will just apologize later. This is a place where I feel I can say what I'm thinking when I think it. I'm not a perfect person, and I've made this fact quite obvious. However, I do believe that I am a real person...and realistically, I say and do and think things that are quite ignorant. Unfortunately, the person that bears the brunt of this, turns out too often to be Jeff. There are parts of him that I should understand better than I do. And maybe it's not that I don't understand, it's just that sometimes I am so concerned with myself, that his thoughts and feelings kind of get pushed aside. Anyway, this was just a little dedication to him, as I don't want to explain to everyone the ways in which I'm a clueless jerk sometimes. Suffice it to say, it happens to be true, and it happens more than I'd like to admit.
Also, this picture may get me into trouble, as Jeff has a thing about me posting photos of him when he hasn't done his hair. But as you all can see, it's just plain adorable. So I just have to post it and, in doing my usual, will apologize later. That being said, I feel like now I have weeded out those that are reading right now for the overly interesting information. So I'll get down to my announcement. For a couple weeks Jeff and I have known that we are expecting baby number 3. Yeah.
We are surprised. This happened right as we were talking about Jeff getting a vasectomy and leaving this possibility behind. So, naturally, it's been a source of stress. We are starting completely over. I will continue to get fatter each day and my gag reflex is becoming more and more unstable. Also, this means my posts will be more cliche' than usual. (Sorry Moriah).
On the other hand, though, we're excited. I find myself really thinking about all the things that I know are in store, and being okay with it. More than okay really, looking forward to this new baby. The usual uncertainties are definitely there, but I really thought this news would be along the lines of devastating. And here were are, laughing, remembering, and anticipating. I'm not one of those women that have to wait until the "bump" is there to let others in on the secret. Because truthfully, my entire pregnancies, until about month 7 are titled with the question: "Did she just gain a lot of weight? Or could it be she's pregnant?" And heaven help the person that asks me...because it has and it will happen.
So, there you are. Jeff is right, I cannot be a private person. I have completely lost that ability. But it's not something I can honestly hide, and so I feel like the sooner you know why I've become more angry, cynical, crazy, and emotional, the better.

Happy Birthday, My Love!

This is kind of a prelude to our family's day to day. Jeff and I will want one moment of alone time, and somehow, one of our kids is always there. As this picture was taken by Jeff, Cole managed to sneak himself and Noony in at the last moment. Long past are the days it was just Jeff and I....some days that hits home a lot stronger than others.
So, today is (or later tonight), Jeff's 31st. Unfortunately, all of his birthday gifts will be late...as I did a rotten job of ordering them online. This is the crappy thing about birthdays. You plan, and you plan. And then something happens that will totally ruin it, (like a back-order), and you are left looking like a serious chump. Left looking like your significant other isn't really that significant. So, this is an apology to my wonderful husband. I hope that your birthday is great, and I hope that you don't get the birthday blues, like we are both prone to do. For some reason when it's the actual birthday, it seems like there's this big anti-climax. Especially on a Sunday. Especially when I have a pluto-sized cold sore on my lip. Anyway, I just want Jeff to know what a valuable thing his birthday is to me. You're my best friend, and the greatest father, and still the sexiest man I know. I love you sooo much.

Wanna see something gross?

Ahhh...Those four words. I am always amazed at how I react to them. Do I want to see something gross? Not really...but now that you mention it, I guess I have to look and see if in fact, I do find it gross. And I can never answer "No". I will ask what it is, and an especially crafty person will ignore my question and just ask me if I want to see or not. The result is always the same: Now I have to see, so bring it.


What you are seeing here, besides some moles and a too-close-for-comfort look into my nostrils, is Herpes Simplex Virus....uh, 1? 2? I'm not sure which is which. Suffice it to say, there is no genital herpes going on, I swear. So whichever virus that affects the lip area, is the one I have. This, my friends is after a year of taking Valtrex...which, coincidentally, IS for genital herpes. A fact that I quickly expressed to my doctor, as I was asking what I could do about the enormous cold sores that I get once or twice a year. (He told me that Valtrex would make the viral outbreaks a lot less severe, and it works well, so why not?) This, though ugly, is very small in comparison to the ones I used to get. Jeff labeled me "turtle-lip" a few months after we were married...and that was being nice about it. There have been times that I've actually measured 2 inches of lip grotesquely covered in cold sore ooze. Too much information? Maybe so. But I wanted to realistically share with you what I have to deal with when I get stressed out or sick. This is why I try to remain ignorant of the terrible ways of the world, and try to avoid colds at all costs.
I've been stressed lately. (Obviously). I can't say why, it's a private matter....and Jeff has questioned my ability to be a private person. Well, this is one subject that I wont be sharing with all six of you that are reading this. So there.
The major problem with this physical setback, though, is the time it's occurring. My husband turns 31 on Sunday. He took today off so we could actually have some time to be together. Currently he's still asleep, and probably will be so for the next three hours. However, I wanted to go out today. I wanted to dress up and pretend that I didn't have any kids, and I wasn't that lady that sometimes doesn't shower until two in the afternoon and then still gets into pajama pants. I didn't want to wake up and look at my son while he's asking me a question and stops in the middle of it to ask what's wrong with my face. And then doesn't finish his question, but instead tells me, "I just don't wanna look at that", and walks away. I'm pretty sure pajama pants are still on the agenda today.
I'm sure that we will go out and do something a little out of the ordinary...it just sucks that this is when I get a cold sore--not when I am scheduled for a dentist appointment, or have to teach in church or at another time when it would be almost convenient.
I just want the record to show that I do feel bad about what a crappy wife I am at times. That being said, I also went against Jeff's request of putting a picture of the offending sore out here for the world to see. (Or, as I said before, you six readers). He told me last night that he doesn't like when people put gross stuff on their blogs...and I said it's a good thing it's my blog, and not his. I have to be the first to tell everyone that yes, I know there's a pretty disgusting problem with my lip, and I totally see it. I wouldn't want anyone thinking that I'm just not aware, you know? Do you? Well, you've read my other posts, so this shouldn't be too surprising.
Anyway, that's all I got for now. I'm giving you all a break, as this post is like, half as long as all my other ones. I'm pretty sure this is also because of my cold sore, so in that way, for you, it can be a good thing.