Because he makes me laugh.

So lately Cole has been more humorous than usual, and I wonder if he's just going to be that kid that I always wanted to be: witty and naturally funny. Jeff told me the other day that as he was taking Cole to school, he was having problems buckling his seat belt. Cole and I always have rounds with this issue, because sometimes instead of actually clasping his seat belt together, he'll just clank the pieces to make the sound, and leave it at that. It's apparently too much work to actually complete the entire task. Anyway, Jeff asked him if he had it put on the right way, as that's information he won't volunteer, and Cole said "no." Jeff told him to put it on, and Cole gave a couple of tries, whined, and said, "I can't". Jeff then told him to hurry up and put it on or he'll be late for school--which he hates. So Cole gave it a serious try and then got frustrated and yelled, "WHY DOES MY SEAT BELT HATE ME?" After that, Jeff just helped him. I guess some things are more vexing than you'd think.
Last week he lost a tooth and I was surprised at the difference between Riley and Cole as far as the pain tolerance of getting the actual tooth out goes. (Moriah, I'm with you on the girls totally trumping guys when it comes to facing pain/sickness/stress--you name it). He'd known that it was ready to be out for a while now, but he wouldn't let Jeff or me wiggle it. Riley was always overly eager to endure a little pain for a visit from the Tooth Fairy and the dollar that she brings. However, Cole wasn't sure that a dollar was worth the impending pain that Riley had filled him in on. So he just went through each day ignoring that tooth, and telling me that it wasn't ready to come out yet. Finally Riley convinced him that it wasn't that bad...and that he could do it, and blah, blah, blah. As usual, Cole decided that Riley was the one with the utmost experience, and that despite that I'd been saying the same thing for the last two weeks, that if he'd just let Jeff or I push on it a couple of times, he'd be a dollar richer. (For those of you that know Cole, he will usually do painfully embarrassing things for a single quarter--another thing he gets from me--and so the fact that he couldn't bring himself to do this for a dollar, well, I knew he was pretty scared). Anyway, I'm from the "old school" of removing teeth. When I was a kid, I seriously did do it all...My dad used the pliers, the doorknob, and the crunch inducing push methods to rid me of those little pearly baby chompers. However, because my teeth were so jacked anyway, and I had had more than my share of tooth removal using the "happy gas" at the dentist, I was pretty okay with it. I've always been more afraid of unhealthy teeth, than the pain you go through in order to keep them healthy. So Riley took the reigns on this one, as when it comes to her siblings, she usually does. It has to say something about having her as a big sister, I think. Cole trusts her implicitly. And with that trust, he listened to her advice, let Jeff push on his tooth a couple of times, and out it came. He was thrilled. When he found his dollar the next morning, he didn't even say anything about it. I waited a half hour and then asked him if the Tooth Fairy had come. He said, "Yeah, I got a dollar. That's what I get, right?" Like it was just commonplace, and he needed to make sure he wasn't ripped of some of his hard earned cash. Then he told me that he put his dollar in my purse, and not to spend it, because he was going to use it with his allowance money to get more Legos. I just needed to make sure it didn't get lost. As you can see, I have a lot of purpose in this house.
My final story about Cole occurred a few days ago. I was in the bathroom, trying to get my business done, and because I was wanting private time, Cole chose to converse with me via the gap between the closed door and the carpet. Finally I told him that I needed some time to myself and if he'd go downstairs, I would talk to him when I was finished. I heard him go and bounce on my bed and talk to Syd in her crib for a while and then all was quiet for a blissful maybe five minutes. Suddenly, there he was again, at the bottom of the door asking me if I was going to come out soon. I rolled my eyes and said, "in a minute" and gave a little thought to the fact that I didn't even hear him come up the stairs--an anomaly, for sure. He's a loud kid. But I heard him go down them and figured he was watching his movie to pass the time. Before I went into the bathroom, as I often do, I looked at my shelf of toys..because I can. I console myself with thinking that it's my version of the useless crap-knick-knacks that you see in other people's homes and it makes me happy. This is what I saw before entering the bathroom:
If you'll notice in the right hand corner, and for those of you that don't read Kelli's blog, she knitted a little "corporate zombie" that Jeff was the proud recipient of. It's by no means alarming, just a little weird and cute. Anyway, if you can remember how Cole feels about ANY kind of zombie, I shouldn't have been surprised when I finished up in the bathroom, came out, picked up Syd, and noticed this:I had to do a little rearranging because he had hidden the offensive (to him), zombie so far behind Doc Ock that the top of his head juuust barely showed. Putting two and two together, while I was in the bathroom thinking that finally I had some privacy and Cole was downstairs letting his sister sleep, he was actually trying to hide Jeff's little zombie...because as you can tell, it's terrifying. :) Cole didn't say anything about it afterwards. And each day I look to see if he's been changed around. It's happened once since, but I guess he's trying to keep it as low key as possible. Maybe the little zombie is just scary when mom and dad aren't in the room? Perhaps he's protecting Sydney? I don't know for sure. Either way, this kid makes me laugh.
I'm hoping that all you guys have a good week. I can't believe how quickly this year is going already. I'll leave you with pictures of my beautiful girls, because this is my blog and I can. And because we've been housebound so often lately, you may have forgotten what they look like.

Yay. And Boo.

It's been said that there must be opposition in all things. Well, this past week I've had more than my share.

Yay: Flight of the Conchords's new season is fabulous--complete with new songs, new "Mel" drama, and they are pushing the proverbial envelope.

Boo: Jermaine refers to his family jewels as "Sugar Lumps". Though their choreography and lyrical works are of genius caliber, I have used the name Sugar Lumps as a pet name for all three of my babies. It was mine first, and despite Jeff mocking me because of this, in the infamous words of Tom Petty: I WON'T back down. (And Jeff made a valid point in saying that each infant was a direct result of his personal sugar lumps, so....case and point...kind of).

Yay: I got the call that my DARLING new glasses were ready for pick up on Valentine's Day and I look totally fabulous when I wear them.

Boo: I dressed accordingly to accentuate said new glasses on Valentine's day, and we stopped to pick them up on our way out. We arrived there at 5:06, only to find that they closed at 5:00. Not only was I bummed, but I got a severe headache Valentine's Eve because I wore my old glasses with the old prescription. Balls. My new glasses would have looked SO much better.
Yay: I went to the Library today to pay a ticket for not wearing my seat belt here in Springville, and I found out that had I paid any later, I would have had to go to court.

Boo: I WAS WEARING MY FREAKING SEAT BELT! When I was pulled over, I had to unbuckle my seat belt to dig into my glove compartment to find all my insurance and registration information. When the officer arrived to my window, he said that I wasn't wearing my seat belt. And wrote me a ticket.

Yay: The aforementioned officer just gave me a warning instead of writing me up for speeding.

Boo: He still wrote me a ticket about not wearing my seat belt even though I was. (So completely rotten, it needed to be mentioned twice). It's apparently time for Springville to make city quotas.

Yay: Riley and Cole told me I'm the Best Mom Ever.

Boo: Then both turned right around and said that they missed their dad, because he's always more fun.

Yay: I found the cutest jeans on sale...perfect color, perfect length, perfect price.

Boo: I neglected to do the "butt test" in the fitting room, as my brain function is still at sub-par levels. It was a horrifying surprise when I tried them on at home, and there was nothing I could do but take them back.


Yay: Jeff is now a member of the band Elemental, as their "Man At Arts". Not only does this mean that he designs the posters for them and the bigger bands that they are opening for, (like Ours, Airborn Toxic Event, and then in May, VAST), but he also gets to enjoy the perks of Elemental...like meeting the mentioned bigger bands and having backstage access. My husband is pretty much a bona-fide rockstar and making my dream come true of being some sort of groupie. (Also, I have to add that these posters are complete works of art, and word is getting out on my husband's gift--thus raising Jeff's cool factor by a bazillion points).

Boo: I don't get to go with him this time. Instead, he's taking Kory as his date. So I have to live the rockstar lifestyle extra vicariously.

**However, I will NOT miss out on VAST, fyi. I'm giving myself some more time to get ready to strut my stuff...I want to be able to represent as I'm hobnobbing with my musical icons. **

Anyway, that's all for now. Just wanted to let you in on my fabulous life...and the parts that are less than fabulous. Hope you all are experiencing less "Boos" than I seem to be lately.

V-Day.

Hello to all. Before my post, I just thought I would let you know that things are thumbs up at the Jeff and Rainey Anderson household. Last Friday I took Syd to her two month check up, and she'd gained two ounces, and her chest sounded clear. So I'm taking that as Sydney being on her way to full recovery. She's breathing, sleeping, eating and pooping SO much easier. And this makes all of us happy and thankful for answered prayers. I wanted to thank all of you for your concern and offers of help. We truly lucked out with the friends and family that we have. She's back to melting our hearts and making us laugh.I had to post this picture because it doesn't matter whether she's gained weight or not, whenever a baby goes into the Doctor's office or hospital, you see how truly tiny they are. And if you're a constant worrier like I am, you also really appreciate what a miracle having a healthy and happy baby is. Anyway, that's the end of my emotional dialog. Thanks again to everyone for all their love and support. Shauna, thanks for the offer of the lobelia--or however it's spelled. I have been using Baby Vicks on her neck and chest, and that seems to work great. I will definitely keep that in mind, though, should the Vicks stop doing its job. Also, Kory--I'm totally holding you to that Nickleback party. And to Moriah, I'm sad to say that they indeed ARE still a band...and I just can't get away from them here. For some reason, Utah radio stations hold big love towards them, and lately my ipod has been permanently glued into my car...
Anyhoo, life for me has been busy, busy, busy. I have almost completely memorized the Chowder DVD that the kids got for Christmas. You may be asking who Chowder is...and for those of you that don't know, you must watch it. Check it out on the Cartoon Network. You can see a few episodes online, and I'm pretty confident you'll be as hooked as I am--it's about a fat kitten named Chowder and he loooooves to eat. Need I say more? You'll thank me later.
When I'm not actually watching Chowder, which is unusual, because that DVD gets some serious play, I'm still doing "mom stuff". In fact, sickness aside, this time around having a baby has been so fun. It was also fun with Riley and Cole, yeah, but there was this sense of urgency. I was always waiting for them to get that much bigger--where they could hold their own bottle, or sit up, or talk. Now I'm just able to hold Syd whenever I want. I can watch her sleep and snuggle with her during her frequent and short naps. I do what I can inbetween feedings but now I'm okay with my house being a disaster, and I'm fine with not showering until like, two in the afternoon. (Note disaster in the background). To the common reader this may sound like I've given up, and that I've let everything go. However, I think that this is the way it always was-- only this time I refuse to feel guilty about it. Ahhh...so much nicer. It really helps to have a husband that supports me about this, too. With the other two babies I put a lot of pressure on myself, because supposedly every other mom that I saw had it all together, so I pushed myself to fit into that category. It was all me. Jeff is just fine with me really not doing anything during the day except run and take care of the kids. I'm a lucky woman. And given my ability to tolerate stress, this is a huge relief.
So a happy Valentine's Day to everyone! This had to be my most hated holiday growing up. And it's not like I celebrate it much now, either. It's for sure I'm not a jewelery or flower girl. I'm just not into that stuff. But, being with Jeff has certainly made me change my mind a bit; gone is the extreme bitterness. I'm still blissfully in love. I'm more jiggly and less self involved, but my husband still makes my heart swell and I feel my best when I'm around him. Weird that. And terrific beyond words, too.
For the kids, it's a different matter. Both are quite excited, as they are getting their Valentines ready to pass out on Friday. Last Saturday Jeff helped both Riley and Cole with their boxes. This is something I never did as a kid. I mean, we had our little boxes for Valentines, but they were usually made at school and I went all out with mine--I'd draw some hearts on it, or maybe pull out the big guns and GLUE some hearts on. I was big time, obviously. However, when Riley started school, I realized I wasn't as big time as I originally thought. I helped in her class a couple of times and saw that the other more productive parents had supplied their children with Valentine boxes of a much higher caliber than Riley's Tupperware bowl with multi-colored hearts. I'm talking like, huge paper-mache creations complete with multiple openings for all their children's friends to fill with letters and love. I quickly handed that job over to Jeff, as he's the "creative master" in this household. This year, the kids told him what they wanted, and though they aren't paper-mache, I think they fit Riley and Cole's personalities quite well. (Just in case you can't see, the mouths of both creatures is where the Valentines will be deposited. I was overly impressed with my kid's and Jeff's genius).
Both kids are way excited. I'm excited for them. I remember always loving going through my valentines after school, and pretending the boy that I had a crush on only gave me the valentine with the very special message of love...I can pretty much read anything into anything. Just give me proper motivation. Riley and I for sure will be doing a LOT of speculating on the hidden messages of her valentines Friday afternoon. Cole, too...but he'll probably just blow me off for the massive amounts of candy he's banking on receiving. Boys, sometimes, are no fun. I hope all of you have a great weekend with your significant others, regardless of whether or not you're haters of St. Valentine. I think it's important in this busy life to have these little holidays to set some time aside and just enjoy each other and I appreciate the fact that every now and then my calendar tells me it's time to do just that. Peace out, Yo.

Lately.

Disclosure: I'm just letting you know this is a LOOONG post about stuff that isn't as interesting as most of us would like it to be...especially if we blog stalk out of boredom...which I may or may not do. However, I'm thinking that since this blog is also a journal of sorts for me, everything needs to be typed out. If you find yourself falling asleep, go to the bathroom, get a drink of water, and maybe just watch some TV for a while. This post will be here waiting when you get back, and perhaps you can save the rest of it for when you have absolutely nothing better to do.

So I've been home bound. Cole was sick, Riley got sick, Jeff got sick and I was keeping up pretty well. Then Syd got sick, and all the rules changed. I'd read a little about RSV in infants, so when she started to show similar symptoms, I worried. (Remember, I'm a hypochondriac for myself, and for members of my family, so I didn't take her to the doctor right away). Saturday night is when things started getting really bad. She'd been sniffling and coughing a little since Friday, but things took a turn for the worse. Luckily Sunday I got to stay home with the kids and not have anywhere I needed to be. Sydney basically stopped eating. She was completely disinterested in her bottles and being that I make them special, just for her, I took a little offense. If there is one thing about my babies--and I can't say this about my kids anymore--it's that they looooove their bottles. Especially when filled with breast milk. This, and the immunities, are the only reasons I still insist on them having it. If Sydney were as willing to forgo food as Jeff and the kids, I wouldn't bother. It would so be worth the extra 20-25 bucks a week to just do formula, and actually get to sleep longer than 4 to 5 hour intervals....ah, just the thought...
(I find it's even easier for me to stray off topic when I'm sleep deprived). Anyway, back to Sunday and Sydney. I had tried to keep Riley and Cole away from her, but that was just impossible. I rationalized that I had to keep from kissing her while I had a cold sore, so they could do the same. However, it's just not possible. Our house isn't large by any means, and she's just so darn cute, that they couldn't stay away from her. Plus she'd probably been exposed to whatever they've been bringing home from school the previous week, so it was inevitable. Sunday night she'd been coughing so much that I really worried about her and she had so much mucus that her breathing became really fast and shallow. Add that to her not eating for a day and no wet diapers, and I was about to lose it. I was rocking her in the rocking chair and she began having a coughing fit again, and I took her down from my shoulder. She finished said coughing fit...and didn't breathe. I counted to four seconds, and began to panic, and gave her a fairly hard smack on her back after I saw her eyes begin to bulge. This got her crying again, and dislodged a big wad of goo from the back of her throat. I started crying...because that's what I do when anything is overly stressful. No, it doesn't help. At all.
My niece came over Monday morning because she got the day off of school to "go to work" with someone. Kind of like a career day, I guess. She chose me, because I'm a stay at home mom. Anyway, that's what I was told...I'm thinking the real reason was that she didn't want to go be in an actual work environment, when she could just come over here and play with the baby. Not that I minded in the least, because I enjoy her company and as a kid, I would have thought of that too--it's brilliant. Unfortunately for her, our day would consist of endless errands for a sick baby. My doctor squeezed Sydney in at about elevenish that morning. After checking her out, he said that she was definitely having some issues breathing and a contributor to that was her endless supply of mucus. At the hospital right now, because there are SO many babies with RSV, they have a little center with a machine that will suck all the baby's phlegm out of their nose and throat. He had to write me a prescription for them to do that, and sent us on our way, saying that he'd also order a lab to be done of the mucus, to find out what she had.
So, after three buildings and four wrong directions by people that supposedly work in the health centers and such...(seriously, has anyone considered the importance of a simple map at each information desk?), we finally wound up in the correct wing of the hospital on the correct floor. My niece and I didn't have to wait too long for Syd's "suction". However, while we waited, we could hear the process being done to another infant...and the progressive screaming as well. I mean this kid was terrified and angry, and it made my "mother's hackles" rise in a way that made me want to tell my niece to grab my purse and run for it, with me and Syd right behind her. I watched Sydney looking around, listening to the other baby as well, and she got that hurt look on her face and just started to sob her sad cry. I took it as a terrible omen.
Anyway, when our turn came they took us into a little room, and had me lay her on the bed. The nurse then unwrapped something from a plastic bag that just looked wrong...complete with two looong straws that were going to be placed in Syd's nose and down her throat. After a couple breathing tests and such, they had me hold my baby down, and stuck the straw in one nostril and sucked all the yuck out, and then did this to the other nostril. I had to put a lot of weight on Syd cause weak as she was, she still was uber pissed that we were doing that to her, and was fighting for all she was worth. I cried--yet again--because I hate for any of my babies to be in pain or scared. Does it help? Again, no. But it does make me look even more unstable than I am, and it's how I deal. So, that's how it goes.
They removed two whole ounces of goo from Syd. She was coughing less, and she calmed down really quickly when they took the straws out. They had to actually save it, and send it to the lab to see what she had, and then told me the Doctor would call me later. I have to say that I'm really grateful that my niece was there with me, and such an excellent help...(THANKS JAMIE!). She kind of held it all together with her quiet way, and her ability to tell me what I needed to hear.
Sydney was pretty good for the rest of the day, she began to eat more and started having wet diapers--something that for a parent, is one of those things that you rejoice over. Nothing is really as exciting as knowing that all systems are go, with an infant.
Tuesday night I got the call from my doctor that Syd tested positive for RSV. If I was worried before knowing that she MIGHT have it, I was a wreck knowing that she did. All of a sudden I could swear her mouth was getting a more bluish tinge and that her chest was retracting, and that she'd stop breathing as soon as I closed my eyes at night. Needless to say, I nor Jeff slept much at all. Wednesday she woke up at 5 am and coughed--literally for 30 minutes. It was the body-wracking, vomit inducing cough that you know from personal experience hurts, and then seeing a baby do it, makes you just know it's 100 times more painful. And then after that, she was fine...she laughed and talked and smiled and was eating like she was making up for the last three weeks. I was convinced she was on the up and up. Until about 9 pm, and the coughing started again. I called the doctor, and he said that I should probably go in to have her "vacuumed" again. With much dread, I did.
This time my fabulous sister and her fabulous husband came with me. My own husband stayed home with our other sick kiddos....as dragging them to the hospital at 10:00 at night, when they had school the next day, seemed almost as daunting as going alone. But I didn't have to, because of the previously mentioned wonderful sister and brother-in-law. Apparently we went at the right time. They'd had babies in there all day, getting the same thing done. When it was our turn, Chris opted to stay with our stuff, and Muffy came in with me. I was dreading it even more this time, as I knew what to expect and the little boy that went in before us had screamed the entire time he was in there. When I took Syd in, she was happy. She was breathing pretty poorly, but she was happy. In fact, the nurse said, (and this is a bunch of shameless bragging), that she was so cute she didn't want to do it. Syd gave her a really big smile, as I'm sure she recognized the word, "cute", and the nurse groaned and said, "You're just going to make this extra hard on me, aren't you?" After that, I braced myself and Sydney, and the horror began...only it wasn't bad. Sydney seemed to know what to expect, and she closed her eyes and looked uncomfortable, but didn't scream. She took it like a champ, and the nurse said she'd not seen that in the three years that she'd been doing the procedure. She also said that Sydney had the prettiest eyes and smile she'd seen and that I had a beautiful baby. I didn't want to mention that, but...;)
And that's where we are for now. Sorry about the lapse yet again in posts, but I've honestly been really busy. I'm grateful that I AM a stay at home mom. Because I know how hard it is to not be. With Riley I had to work--up until I had Cole. And it was hard. I also know that people do what they have to do to make ends meet, and those of you that have to work, I respect what you're doing. It's a huge juggle and stress a lot of the time. I've been relishing the chance I have to hold Sydney and just let her snuggle to me, and feel that she's loved. Because I can, and I feel that I should. In a way, it's helped and comforted me just as much as it has her. She's still got her coughing jags, and she's so exhausted that she can't really concentrate on sleeping. But she's happy. And that's all I can ask.
Thanks for all the well-wishes and such. Hopefully she'll be ready to get out and about soon. Love to all.

Oh, and on a totally unrelated note, I was currently contemplating how much I hate the band Nickleback. Which is a lot. That is all.

The 411.

Word up and howdy-do. I know it's been forever. I promised to tone it down on the "mommy" stuff, and it turned out that you take the baby out of the picture, and there's not a lot to talk about right now. I mean, I literally eat, and (don't) sleep Syd these days, so when I really tried to come up with something new or exciting, I came up blank. So I guess I'm going back on my word. Don't get overly upset. It's not like you've never done it.My Squishy Squid is sleeping through the night. Yaaaaay! I mean, it's like between seven or eight hours. Because I'm a lazy person, I still dream of the elusive twelve...but I'll totally take seven over three and a half to four. Now when I finally lay down to sleep, I don't have that weepy feeling that I'll have to get up again in an hour. (Because, even though they are sleeping for three and half to four hours, doesn't mean that you are--there are still things like feedings and putting them back to sleep...which always take an additional hour or two). She's also started to coo. I LOVE this stage. It's the sweetest thing when they smile at you and try to tell you about their day with absolute seriousness, slobber, and sighs. Also, I have to give big props to Amy, as she made the little onesie that Syd wears in that top picture. I know I'm biased but I think that you'll agree it's adorable.
Cole is sick. Again. I've decided that he's just my sickly kid. Riley will get the two colds a year, like the normal person, but Cole picks up everything. It's so annoying to me. The confusing part is that he's the kid that will eat fruit all day and salads. (Yes, he's also a sugar addict, however, so is Riley, and it doesn't seem to affect her). So I don't know what to do. This also makes me so sad, as he looks too entirely pitiful when he's not feeling well. He also says things that are melancholy. For instance, today he asked me if I could feel his heart, because he's so sick. "Can you feel it being breaked?" I told him I was sorry his heart hurt, and he told me, "Everything hurts". So sad. In addition to that, he's the one with an overly sensitive stomach and aversions to any type of foreign smell...so when he's sick anyway, it makes everything that much worse. I'm just going to have to deal with my Bubbers getting whatever it is that's being passed around, whenever it goes around. Fabulous.
TOTAL TOPIC CHANGE
To those of you concerned, and on a completely unrelated note: Zooey Deschanel is now off the market. I found this out a few weeks ago and was happy to learn that she is marrying someone that is worthy of her--the lead singer from Death Cab for Cutie. So for my readers that already knew this, sorry about the unnecessary repetition. For those of you that wish she was yours--and I know that there are a lot of you, seriously--she's now unavailable. Why does this make me happy? Maybe because I know so many lust after her...and she's so cute that I really can't hold a grudge. (I'll be honest, I kind of have a girl crush on her). So, since I find it hard to hate her, I'll enjoy the fact that she's now going to be married and hopefully pop out a few children. Thus, making her less fantasy worthy.
Is this a healthy way of thinking or a useful way to spend my time? No. I can't justify it, but I am aware of this...just so you know.
Now that I've let you in on that little fact, you may see why I'm trying to tear down all my considered models of perfection. I went to the doctor's office yesterday. Admittedly it was for my six week checkup, but it's been almost eight. This is mainly because I wanted to go get weighed and not hate myself. Did I succeed? Bah, no. I stepped on that freaking scale and wanted to yell at my kind nurse. I take comfort in knowing that I really, REALLY had to pee and that I was wearing my "puffy coat" as Cole calls it, and holding my purse. However, I still have thirty pounds to go, and I was hoping it was more like, less than twenty. BALLS! So I posted the above picture anyway, even though I normally wouldn't have, as it showcases my double chin. Kass is already at her pre-pregnancy weight, and I thought that maybe I could, by a certain type of osmosis...be there as well if I thought about her doing it. Uh, it just didn't work like I'd hoped. So I guess it's back to watching what I eat and exercise. Damn.
Anyhoo, that's all for now. I think I've caught you up on all that's happening around here. Here, being at our house...cause that's the only place I've been for the last couple months...here and Wal-mart, I guess. But you know what that looks like. So, until next time, my faithful readers. And know that you're important to me. I could have been doing leg lifts, or crunches, and instead I chose to let you in on my personal life through this new post. That's love, my friends, real love.

January 2009

Surprisingly enough, I've had a couple people inquire whether or not I would ever post on my blog again. Not to worry, I'm still here, I just have encountered a lot of different things as of late. January has brought me many various instances in which my time and thoughts have been required elsewhere. I've been dealing with life, death, old acquaintances, new acquaintances, happy milestones and sad endings...it's been quite a bit of a wild ride and honestly, I'm not too sure where I am right now. I have a lot of thoughts and scenarios running through my mind and I'm still trying to find out what I'm doing. Hopefully I'll get my shiz together, but until then, I'm tired. I'm tired and I'm trying to hold myself together--and for me, the easiest way to do that is to distance myself from things that I find distasteful or overwhelming. There are quite a few things in those categories that I've been good about avoiding, and one of the ways I'm doing that is by playing around on Facebook--it's actually been a nice change because it's simple. I can comment on someone's status, which is usually something inconsequential, and it's all light and low stress. However, on a bit of a negative note, I've noticed that I've become a lot more lame. Not that I've ever been the epitome of cool, but honestly I'm now that woman that has a baby and then talks about nothing but the baby. It's overly exciting stuff like Sydney's health, and bowel movements, and sleeping patterns, and then a lot of my general vast knowledge on what being a mom to a newborn and older children entails. When I re-read my comments and such, I see that I'm just a bottomless well of motherly knowledge--even when no one asks, I'm dishing out advice and anecdotes. If I didn't love where I am so much, I totally would be more embarrassed. So I've resolved that I will tone it down a bit. Anyway, for those of you that have seen my comments and such on Facebook, and have thought: "Gag, is that all she talks about?" I'm going to try to branch out. My brain is still fuzzy, and it's still difficult to create cognitive sentences, and that's my excuse for my apparent lameness as of late--hopefully that clears up some stuff...or maybe not.
January second marked the tenth year of Jeff and my wedded bliss. We didn't do an abundance of activities due to the newest addition to our family. But, I did get a new purse, and Jeff got an Iron Man action figure, so it was a memorable event, for sure. After we shopped for fun stuff, we went to Bajio Grill because if there's one thing that has brought us closer together over the years, it's delicious food. Before Jeff met me, he didn't like Mexican cuisine. Now he immensely enjoys such sumptuous eateries as Taco Bel, Del Taco, and when it's REALLY special, the aforementioned Bajio Grill.
Jokes aside, it was a really great day. We slept in, as the kids were sick. And even though we didn't get that greatly anticipated ten year anniversary date, we had fun being together, and just enjoyed each other.
On a different note, I was looking through my yearbook a few days ago. I guess seeing all these High school people on Facebook made me a little nostalgic, and why that is, I have no idea, because I hated high school. But in my "In ten years from now" statement, I said I was going to be Chris Cornell's third wife and own my own fashion merchandising company. Reach for the stars, right?
Instead, here I am, married to Jeff--who is my own personal rock star. He's also SO not the sell-out Chris Cornell has turned out to be. And fashion? I mean, I don't know WHAT I was thinking...my sweat shorts, and the ability I have of envisioning a potential outfit out of any type of pajama pants aside, I've never been overly fashionable. Perhaps I was just trying to change by positive thinking.
My life isn't what I thought/envisioned it to be. For that, I am SO grateful. I married a hot boy that has turned into a gorgeous man. I have three beautiful children, and I get to stay home with them. I may be less intelligent than I'd originally banked on being, but I'm good with it. Ignorance is indeed bliss for me.
So I'm going to get back on the blogging ball. It's a new year, and I've got a lot to say. Perhaps it won't be well received by all my readers, but I'm not going to censor myself for others. I've got a lot going on, and so does everyone else. And one of my New Year's resolutions has been to be true to myself, and so I will be. And that's all for this post. Until next time.

Holiday stuff.

Happy Holidays, to all! Jeff has actually had these past two weeks off, and consequently, I haven't had as much free time on my hands, so my blogging has been seriously lacking. (He's been adamant about us catching up on shows, watching movies, and playing new games that we received for Christmas). Sorry to all five of my readers. In addition to that, I've had family in town and I've been contacted by a half-sibling that I'd never met before. (FYI, it's going really well, and I'm thankful for this opportunity). So suffice it to say, it's been a busy week and a half. (Also, Jeff and Riley and Cole have been sick...take that with the constant demand of a newborn, and it makes for me being busy even during lazy days). Anyway, despite severe sleep deprivation, I am posting. I hope you all appreciate my efforts, will forgive any massive typos due to lack of functioning brain cells, and you haven't forgotten about me.
Let's see, Christmas Eve was busy for my little family. That's the day we do our visiting. I have told my family this for the last six years, however, they still seem surprised to know that this system is still in place. I THINK it's finally sinking in, though.
We visited my Dad and Teresa, first. They had gifts for the kids, and also offered us treats, so all in all a definite score. :) They both did well with picking out things they thought Riley and Cole would like. For the rest of the day, wherever we went both kids begged to let them bring their new toys. Sadly, because I'm a mean and cruel mother I always said no. One day they will appreciate how terrible I am, though. I'm sure. I'm hoping...
Next we stopped at Muff and Chris's house. She'd taken photos of Sydney and got them in early for me so I could pass them out to family. She totally hooks me up, and I'm always amazed at her talent, and the way her loving husband helps her. Also, they're sooo good to my kiddies. When she gives me the photos she's taken with the copyrights on them, I'll upload them onto my blog.
Our next stop was Bob and Maida's house. I'm bummed to say that I didn't take any pictures...and it's not that I don't WANT pictures, it's just that Jeff's family isn't like mine, in that we are always reminded to take photos. Someone always has a camera out, and then I remember to do it, too. Now, I'm also totally going to blame Kelli for my lack of Anderson photos, as well. She's the one that does take pictures, and she didn't remind me this time. Also, I feel justified in blaming her, because the whole time we were visiting the Anderson's she accused me of being a total raunch. And I must live up to that.
Lastly we went to my grandparents, where my Mom and Scott and my Aunt Sharon were staying. One thing that I WILL say about my babies having a lot of grandparents, is that they totally clean house on the holidays. Riley and Cole got to open gifts from my mom and grandparents and they enjoyed every second of it. They were totally taken care of. It was a nice day, and then we went home, opened our family presents to each other, and went to bed, anticipating Santa Claus's visit. (Oh, and I feel like I need to tell Amy that when we got home, I noticed that her and Kory's gift was under our tree instead of under Bob and Maida's tree, where all the other gifts that we took to others should have been. It turned out that Riley saw it and thought it was to us, instead of from us and put it under our tree...so Amy, if you're reading this and hopefully not hating me right now, Jeff will take your gift-nothing overly exciting, I'm sad to say-to Kory during racquetball this week. And sorry for totally sucking).
On a more personal note, I have another cold sore and a story that goes with it. You can't really see it in the above photo, however, I posted a picture of the offending grossness last time around, and I'm sure it was memorable enough that you all can still see it burned into your brains. Though I love the holidays, there is so much stress that comes with them, and for some reason, all the stress I feel manifests itself right on my face, for everyone to see. As we went to visit family on Christmas Eve, my cold sore was slowly getting out of the "just red" stage, and growing into the warty-pussy grossness phase. Ahh....fabulous. I'm sure everyone that I hadn't seen for a while enjoyed it just as much as I did.
Anyway, this leads me to my sad, sad story. Christmas Day, for our little family, was enjoyed immensely. We opened presents, got to nap, ate lots of chocolate, and stayed in our pajamas all day. Is that the definition of awesomeness? I think so. Our family got a Wii from Santa this year, and it took the majority of our day to make our little "Mii's" and just enjoy playing games and figuring stuff out. While Riley and Jeff were playing, I told Cole that he needed to sit with me at the table, and he needed to write in his Holiday journal. This is something his teacher sent home for him to do to work on his writing skills. He was to draw a picture and then write sentences describing what the picture portrayed. Anyway, all day he'd been playing with his new toys, trying out the Wii, and organizing his stuff--he and I hadn't had a lot of time to talk. He sat down and drew his picture then looked up at me while asking what he should write about his Chrismas Day, and stopped mid-sentence as he looked straight at me. "Mom", he said, "you got something kinda gross on your lip." I told him that I knew that, and he asked me what it was. I noticed that he couldn't make eye contact with my cold sore, and that he'd turned a greenish color. I told him I had a sore on my lip, and not to worry about it. He sat there for a few minutes and wouldn't look at me. I asked if he was okay, and he said that he just wanted to write his sentence and then go play--all the while not looking at me. I started to laugh, and he looked like he was going to start crying, so I told him he could go play, and we'd finish his sentences later. He then said, "Thanks Mom", without looking at me, and ran upstairs. The next day they were both playing the wii and Cole asked me to come down stairs to make him some eggs. So I went and started brunch when Riley asked me a question and I went into the living room to answer. Without looking at me Cole asked if I was done talking to Riley and asked me to please go back into the kitchen. Apparently I was still grotesque to look at but I still had to make him his eggs. For the next day and a half whenever he'd walk by me, he'd be very focused on the floor and just mumble "Hi mom, I love you". Yesterday morning I caught him looking at me, and he goes, "Your lip isn't puffy, mom." From then on, he didn't have to avoid looking at my face, and he loved me again.
I just thought I'd share. Like I said, limited functioning brain cells, so give me a break on this post.