Ewan asked me tonight if I would keep growing my hair long. I told him I planned on it. He said, "Good!" I asked him why, thinking I'd get some lovely compliment about how he thought I was pretty with long hair.
"Because," he said, "when you had long hair and I was your only kid, the long hair made you look younger."
"Well, I was younger then."
"Also, it made you look thinner."
"I was thinner then."
He gives me a look like "Oh, your poor thing."
I did manage to find my cheekbones again tonight - in a picture from five years ago. I see what he means.
Showing posts with label Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Me. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
C-DAWG!
Buckle in - this might get lengthy. This sweetest of all sweet boys in the whole world is our Corgan, also known as C-Dawg (to which he actually responds better.)
It does not escape my notice the unfortunate timing of my blogging "hiatus." It fell during many key early moments in Corgan's life, and I therefore feel that my record for him is incomplete, and unfair given the attention I've given to documenting the other boys' happenings. I am going to try to remedy that, and I must tell you that just looking at this picture as I type, I've got a big ol' lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. All I want to do is go wake him up, cuddle him and squeeze him. I just love him so, so much. However, he would never let me do such a thing.
Corgan has always been very different from my other boys. I often describe him as being like The Girl with a Curl:
Besides all this, he is a very sweet, very smart and fun little boy. He loves to play with his trucks and cars and he loves the exercises they have given us for him. Strangely enough, even though his speech is many months behind schedule, he knows all of his ABCs and some of his numbers. He loves Duncan and will rub his head and say "so soft." His favorite person on this planet is Bryce. He LOVES his Daddy like I've never seen from any other kid I've ever been around. If Daddy is home, I am persona non grata. But that's ok. He loves me deep-down, and nothing makes my heart skip a beat more these days than when Corgan calls out, "Mama!"
It does not escape my notice the unfortunate timing of my blogging "hiatus." It fell during many key early moments in Corgan's life, and I therefore feel that my record for him is incomplete, and unfair given the attention I've given to documenting the other boys' happenings. I am going to try to remedy that, and I must tell you that just looking at this picture as I type, I've got a big ol' lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. All I want to do is go wake him up, cuddle him and squeeze him. I just love him so, so much. However, he would never let me do such a thing.
Corgan has always been very different from my other boys. I often describe him as being like The Girl with a Curl:"There was a little girl who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
When she was good, she was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid."
Right in the middle of her forehead;
When she was good, she was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid."
I hesitate to say he's ever "bad," but that little rhyme always has entered my mind where he is concerned. He's just always been very excitable, easy to upset, and always does things that completely baffle us. Minor examples from early in his life were that he could not walk until he was 19 months old. (I was much less concerned with this than strangers and minor acquaintances were, trust me.) He had also started out saying words, and then he just stopped talking. It was all screams, all tantrums, all the time. I've been around kids my entire life, personally and professionally, so I know what is typical and what is extreme. Trust me when I say his behaviors become extreme. Screaming bloody, horrible murder in public - for no discernible reason. Throwing himself down in tempers - for no discernible reason. He's overly aggressive and rough. And he's also often not involved with what we are doing. He kind of moves along in the periphery of our family, or whatever group we may be with. The below picture, which I love, demonstrates this. It wasn't a stolen moment of him smelling flowers. This was all he did, just moved along as the whole family walked, in his own little world, investigated the environment, and often had to be called back into the fold, as he traipsed on his merry way. I can't get more specific, it would take ages, but he has definitely been a challenge. I have, until recently, chalked it up to being difficult, like me, and hoped he would grow out of it.
We were able to get somewhat of an answer because of his constant ear infections. The poor boy couldn't hear very well. Once we had tubes put in, things calmed down considerably for a few months, he started to say one or two words, but then that was it. The extreme behavior started again, and he wouldn't talk - never even calling me "Mama." I finally decided these things were not going to correct themselves over time, so I called ECI: Early Childhood Intervention. After several evaluations and meetings, more evaluations and more meetings (occupational therapists, speech therapists, child psychologist, child development specialist, etc.) he was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder, more specifically, he is a "sensory seeking child." SPD "is the inability to use information received through the senses in order to function smoothly in daily life.... an umbrella term to cover a variety of neurological disorders." A child like this often can't translate cues in his environment to modify his behavior. For example, the child will pull the cat's tail, and get scratched, but he can't connect the two, so he continues, baffled at the cat's response. This is something I am still learning about, having only gotten a few chapters into the recommended book, The Out of Sync Child by Carol Stock Kranowitz. Brief examples from the book followed by Corgan's similar behavior:
One of my best friends, Scarlett, was visiting from L.A. Her parents own some land and several horses, and she and her sister have ridden their entire lives in competitions and taught lessons. It was mentioned by one of the therapists how horse-back riding is sometimes used for children like Corgan for speech therapy. As Scarlett took him around on this horse, she told me he really blossomed and was chattering and she could tell a big difference in his demeanor as they walked along. I wish I could afford to enroll him in some sort of program. He sure does look at home on that horse.
We were able to get somewhat of an answer because of his constant ear infections. The poor boy couldn't hear very well. Once we had tubes put in, things calmed down considerably for a few months, he started to say one or two words, but then that was it. The extreme behavior started again, and he wouldn't talk - never even calling me "Mama." I finally decided these things were not going to correct themselves over time, so I called ECI: Early Childhood Intervention. After several evaluations and meetings, more evaluations and more meetings (occupational therapists, speech therapists, child psychologist, child development specialist, etc.) he was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder, more specifically, he is a "sensory seeking child." SPD "is the inability to use information received through the senses in order to function smoothly in daily life.... an umbrella term to cover a variety of neurological disorders." A child like this often can't translate cues in his environment to modify his behavior. For example, the child will pull the cat's tail, and get scratched, but he can't connect the two, so he continues, baffled at the cat's response. This is something I am still learning about, having only gotten a few chapters into the recommended book, The Out of Sync Child by Carol Stock Kranowitz. Brief examples from the book followed by Corgan's similar behavior:
- "Craves fast and spinning movement and may not get dizzy. Moves constantly, fidgets..., is a dare-devil and takes bold risks." Corgan often does not know his own strength. In an effort to be physically stimulated, he will hit us (not to be naughty), throw things, run into things. This all he thinks is absolutely hilarious. He enjoys grabbing Duncan and pushing his head down really hard. He does like to cuddle, but isn't still for it. He just constantly moves and shifts. Also, the story from my last post about him just riding his tricycle off the steps, that's very typical. And I watched him do it - it wasn't an accident - he very purposely did it.
- "Craves bear hugs and being squeezed and pressed. Seeks heavy work and more vigorous playground activities than others." Once he was officially diagnosed, they gave us a vest that is very tight for him to wear occasionally to give him some of that stimulation throughout the day. It is amazing what an impact this has had. He loves it and often asks to wear it. We've also discovered that when he is having one of his melt-downs, if we just grab him and SQUEEZE HIM so tight in a bear hug and apply firm pressure as we massage his back or arms or legs, he calms down pretty quickly. It is now very common for him to run to us asking for a "SKEEEEEZE!" They have also recommended a weighted blanket which will give him that stimulation at night, to help with mornings, which are very rough 99% of the time. But these blankets are quite pricey, so that will have to wait.
- "Seeks visually stimulating scenes and screens for lengthy times. Is attracted to shiny, spinning objects and bright flickering light, such as strobe lights or sunlight streaming through blinds." Now all kids love them some TV, so at first this was a weird one for me, especially since Corgan actually doesn't like to watch TV much. He used to like Yo Gabba Gabba, but now he doesn't care. (It'd actually be a big help if I COULD get him to watch some TV.) But then I realized something about the lights. He's fascinated with lights, turning them on and off obsessively. And something that I finally JUST connected to all of this was the way he will get a light-up toy or flashlight, and shine it on a wall or the cat, or most often Duncan's face, and he cracks up so hard he starts to cough - just because of seeing the light's reflection.
- "Welcomes loud noises and TV volume... May speak in a booming voice." Ewan and Fynn have always been very sensitive to noise, and both were completely terrified of the vacuum and lawn mower. Not Corgan. He's obsessed with the vacuum and the lawn mower. We have to keep him from getting too close. He also likes to see how loud and high-pitched he can get his voice to be, and revels in my not-so-favorable reaction.
- "May taste or lick inedible objects, like Play Do and toys..." Yes, all kids eat play-do, but Corgan will put absolutely anything and everything in his mouth, still. He'd eat anything if I'd let him, except for the actual food I put in front of him!
One of my best friends, Scarlett, was visiting from L.A. Her parents own some land and several horses, and she and her sister have ridden their entire lives in competitions and taught lessons. It was mentioned by one of the therapists how horse-back riding is sometimes used for children like Corgan for speech therapy. As Scarlett took him around on this horse, she told me he really blossomed and was chattering and she could tell a big difference in his demeanor as they walked along. I wish I could afford to enroll him in some sort of program. He sure does look at home on that horse.
Besides all this, he is a very sweet, very smart and fun little boy. He loves to play with his trucks and cars and he loves the exercises they have given us for him. Strangely enough, even though his speech is many months behind schedule, he knows all of his ABCs and some of his numbers. He loves Duncan and will rub his head and say "so soft." His favorite person on this planet is Bryce. He LOVES his Daddy like I've never seen from any other kid I've ever been around. If Daddy is home, I am persona non grata. But that's ok. He loves me deep-down, and nothing makes my heart skip a beat more these days than when Corgan calls out, "Mama!"
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Happenings that Should Only Take Place in Horror Flicks or Gross-out Comedies
I used to be able to find stuff to write about all the time. Now that I'm trying to catch up with this blog and keep up, I don't find much I want to say. You'd think with four boys, two dogs, four (and a half) kitties, etc., that the hits would just keep on coming. I still plan on doing a post for each boy, but time is limited and chaos ensues to keep me from sitting for long stretches to write. Well, the last two days have made sure to give me enough fodder for a good ol' longish post.
My fish, Russell Brand, was inadvertently killed by the flea fogger we set off this weekend. All rodents and fishies were herded into the safety of the laundry room, but Bryce overlooked dear Russell. Alas, he was flushed to a watery grave this evening.
Last night, Bryce was working, and after successfully putting all of the boys to bed (yay for Duncan sleeping in his OWN BED all night every night), I was ready to get a wee snack and paint my nails and chill to some Devil Wears Prada. I had just freed "the twins" from their constricting prison, so I was flopping free and I walked into the kitchen where I felt a substantial SPLAT against my chest. Down into my shirt. And it was moving. I looked down straight into the loving eyes of one of these "little" bastards:
That's a Texas tree roach for those of you not in-the-know. And they're big. Like... as long as your finger. They come out in full force in the summer and sometimes I catch one, saddle it up and let the mouse take a ride. As if it couldn't possibly get worse - a giant ROACH, for crying out loud - but they also fly. So, yeah, one of these guys had decided to go to second base with me. After inventing a few new cuss words on the spot, I watched as he scurried under the sink. I checked my pulse and decided not to call 911, then promptly put it out of my head to prevent roach dreams.
Bryce's schedule is the night shift this week, so he's here every day until 2:00. Neither one of us could sleep well last night, so we agree to trade off naps this morning. He got the first nap, I took the second. He lets the kids snack more than I do, and it's often I'll come home from an errand or out of my room from sleeping in, and the kids are carrying boxes of crackers/cereal/cookies, crumbs scattering everywhere. This morning, it was Corgan carrying around a box of Cocoa Puffs. I came to put Duncan on the floor, and started picking up the cereal that had fallen so Duncan wouldn't find them and gag. All was well... until... I picked up a Cocoa Puff that wasn't crunchy. And it wasn't as... sweet... as said cereal. Ladies and Gentlemen, I had picked up a turd. It seriously was the same size and color as the cereal all over the floor. But it was a turd. Corgan's diaper had failed in its duty to serve and protect our family from stray turds. While picking up a foul brown ball was not in my plans today, I can say I'm very glad I found it and that the baby's mouth didn't.
And finally, tonight, Corgan sneaked the tricycle into the living room while my back was turned and rode it straight down the steep double step into our bedroom. His nose was bleeding. And it bled a lot. And bled and bled and bled. Then it bled some more. I was thisclose to taking him to the ER fearing he'd broken it; it was bleeding too much for me to even look at it. It did finally stop, but not before soaking his shirt and mine. I also had some charming bloody sneeze spatters all over me. He's fine now, but the tricycle might have suffered some injuries as it was thrown with great force out into the front yard.
Here's hoping for a calmer rest-of-the-week.
My fish, Russell Brand, was inadvertently killed by the flea fogger we set off this weekend. All rodents and fishies were herded into the safety of the laundry room, but Bryce overlooked dear Russell. Alas, he was flushed to a watery grave this evening.
Last night, Bryce was working, and after successfully putting all of the boys to bed (yay for Duncan sleeping in his OWN BED all night every night), I was ready to get a wee snack and paint my nails and chill to some Devil Wears Prada. I had just freed "the twins" from their constricting prison, so I was flopping free and I walked into the kitchen where I felt a substantial SPLAT against my chest. Down into my shirt. And it was moving. I looked down straight into the loving eyes of one of these "little" bastards:
That's a Texas tree roach for those of you not in-the-know. And they're big. Like... as long as your finger. They come out in full force in the summer and sometimes I catch one, saddle it up and let the mouse take a ride. As if it couldn't possibly get worse - a giant ROACH, for crying out loud - but they also fly. So, yeah, one of these guys had decided to go to second base with me. After inventing a few new cuss words on the spot, I watched as he scurried under the sink. I checked my pulse and decided not to call 911, then promptly put it out of my head to prevent roach dreams.Bryce's schedule is the night shift this week, so he's here every day until 2:00. Neither one of us could sleep well last night, so we agree to trade off naps this morning. He got the first nap, I took the second. He lets the kids snack more than I do, and it's often I'll come home from an errand or out of my room from sleeping in, and the kids are carrying boxes of crackers/cereal/cookies, crumbs scattering everywhere. This morning, it was Corgan carrying around a box of Cocoa Puffs. I came to put Duncan on the floor, and started picking up the cereal that had fallen so Duncan wouldn't find them and gag. All was well... until... I picked up a Cocoa Puff that wasn't crunchy. And it wasn't as... sweet... as said cereal. Ladies and Gentlemen, I had picked up a turd. It seriously was the same size and color as the cereal all over the floor. But it was a turd. Corgan's diaper had failed in its duty to serve and protect our family from stray turds. While picking up a foul brown ball was not in my plans today, I can say I'm very glad I found it and that the baby's mouth didn't.
And finally, tonight, Corgan sneaked the tricycle into the living room while my back was turned and rode it straight down the steep double step into our bedroom. His nose was bleeding. And it bled a lot. And bled and bled and bled. Then it bled some more. I was thisclose to taking him to the ER fearing he'd broken it; it was bleeding too much for me to even look at it. It did finally stop, but not before soaking his shirt and mine. I also had some charming bloody sneeze spatters all over me. He's fine now, but the tricycle might have suffered some injuries as it was thrown with great force out into the front yard.
Here's hoping for a calmer rest-of-the-week.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Doodle-Bug
Meet Duncan Wilder. Also known as Doodle-Bug, or Dunka-Doo, Dunka-Doodle Doo, or Doodle-Poodle.
I adore this boy so much. So much, in fact, that I will post this extremely unflattering picture of me simply because I love the way he is looking at me.
Those who are close to me know that when I found out I was expecting another baby, I was less than thrilled. Don't get me wrong, I'd always planned on having another, but I felt it was too soon, not to mention the fact that circumstances were less than ideal. My health wasn't great (later I was diagnosed with Graves Disease) and things at home could have been better. I won't get overly detailed, but I was scared to be pregnant. I cried. I never regretted that it happened, surprise though it may have been, but I just felt it couldn't happen yet. I couldn't handle it. And this pregnancy SUCKED. HARD. So much suckage. I did finally have an epiphany that God always knows best, and that there was a reason for the timing. And sometimes the very best blessings require the hardest battle.
He came to us on October 8, and I just love love love love him. Of course I do, I'm his mother. But he's just so wonderful, and I feel he was meant to come and bless our home when we needed him most. The boys all adore him, Bryce adores him, he's just sweet and pleasant and I swear that kid already has an awesome sense of humor.
I'm catching you up one post at a time! More to come!
I adore this boy so much. So much, in fact, that I will post this extremely unflattering picture of me simply because I love the way he is looking at me.
Those who are close to me know that when I found out I was expecting another baby, I was less than thrilled. Don't get me wrong, I'd always planned on having another, but I felt it was too soon, not to mention the fact that circumstances were less than ideal. My health wasn't great (later I was diagnosed with Graves Disease) and things at home could have been better. I won't get overly detailed, but I was scared to be pregnant. I cried. I never regretted that it happened, surprise though it may have been, but I just felt it couldn't happen yet. I couldn't handle it. And this pregnancy SUCKED. HARD. So much suckage. I did finally have an epiphany that God always knows best, and that there was a reason for the timing. And sometimes the very best blessings require the hardest battle.
He came to us on October 8, and I just love love love love him. Of course I do, I'm his mother. But he's just so wonderful, and I feel he was meant to come and bless our home when we needed him most. The boys all adore him, Bryce adores him, he's just sweet and pleasant and I swear that kid already has an awesome sense of humor.
I'm catching you up one post at a time! More to come!
Friday, September 18, 2009
Flowers Gone Wild
My sisters and I used to walk to my grandmother's house and visit with her. We'd often go sit on her back porch when the weather was nice and just talk. I would talk to her a lot about all of her flowers - she had many. Wild and cultivated roses, irises in every color of the rainbow, tiger lilies, honeysuckle, wisteria, sweet peas, and many more that I've forgotten over time. She instilled in me a love of flowers and gardening that was nourished by the books I read. Anne of Green Gables, The Secret Garden, Little House on the Prairie, etc. Although I'm not necessarily a perfectly green thumb, I think I've developed a lovely light yellow, spring green thumb. At least I had, up until I got pregnant with Fynn.
Pregnancy kicks us all in the butt in different ways, and one of the things to suffer with Fynn and Corgan was my gardening. I just gave up. Weeding was too hard, I was hormonal and one failure of one plant would upset me and I just lost the desire. But I still love flowers so much. I love the wild look, and while right now the weeds have taken over a bit too wildly, there have been some other lovely results of my lazy sowing the last couple of years. It's still not quite what I would like it to be, but I'll take what I can get in these busy days.
This is the low brick wall by our porch, covered in black-eyed Susan vine, and purple hyacinth vine. They are all mingled and twirled together, and I love it.
Close-up of black-eyed Susan vine. I've loved them from the moment I saw them in a magazine, and tried for a couple of years to grow them without success. But last year, it worked, and this year, they came back with a lovely vengeance.
Both of them together. Mary Ann gave me a handful of the purple hyacinth vine a few years ago, and they came back in spectacular bunches all over the place. They are a little crazy, but beautiful - and they smell divine.
This popped up in the middle of my lantana. It looks a bit familiar, but I can't place it. Does anyone know? The find of this one inspired this post this morning, and I'm thinking it might inspire a little more of the fey spirit of gardening.
Pregnancy kicks us all in the butt in different ways, and one of the things to suffer with Fynn and Corgan was my gardening. I just gave up. Weeding was too hard, I was hormonal and one failure of one plant would upset me and I just lost the desire. But I still love flowers so much. I love the wild look, and while right now the weeds have taken over a bit too wildly, there have been some other lovely results of my lazy sowing the last couple of years. It's still not quite what I would like it to be, but I'll take what I can get in these busy days.
This is the low brick wall by our porch, covered in black-eyed Susan vine, and purple hyacinth vine. They are all mingled and twirled together, and I love it. 
Close-up of black-eyed Susan vine. I've loved them from the moment I saw them in a magazine, and tried for a couple of years to grow them without success. But last year, it worked, and this year, they came back with a lovely vengeance.
Both of them together. Mary Ann gave me a handful of the purple hyacinth vine a few years ago, and they came back in spectacular bunches all over the place. They are a little crazy, but beautiful - and they smell divine.
This popped up in the middle of my lantana. It looks a bit familiar, but I can't place it. Does anyone know? The find of this one inspired this post this morning, and I'm thinking it might inspire a little more of the fey spirit of gardening.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...
... start writing again. Really. I think I can. I WILL do it. It may take me a while to get back into the writing groove, but I will try. Since I don't have anything spectacular to report right now, I think I'll just give some wee updates on different topics and post a few pictures. Then we'll see what I can come up with tomorrow. Or the next day. Or, you know, sometime.
Ewan is incredible. He is loving kindergarten, and announced yesterday he has a girlfriend named Sarah. For the past two days, all he has talked about are the superhero team he has formed with Sarah, Natalie, each of us, and the cats. For Halloween, he wants to be AntMan, a hero he made up after an ant bit him (mimicking what he'd seen on Spiderman when Peter Parker is bitten by the spider.) Ewan is incredibly smart, and excessively sensitive. I love him madly and am so glad to be his mommy. I'm afraid he's more like me than I would like to admit, and that equates to being a major challenge. He requires more patience and care than the other two put together, but I know through prayer and faith, it'll all be worth it.
Fynn is hilarious and fun and stubborn and frustrating, and acts like a turd much of the time. He's in his testing phase, which means he ignores nine out of ten words that come out of my mouth just so he can see how I'll react. Unfortunately, I haven't been strict enough on him - not like I was on Ewan. Being pregnant and having Corgan when Fynn was so young really threw a wrench in my parenting philosophies and one year later, we are still recovering. But I'm trying to get the reins back, and hope to be raising a polite, kind, obedient little boy soon. I mean, within reason. He is a little boy, after all. And a very cute one at that. His face is so angelic, it belies the growling attitude he has most of the time. But he's still my little cherub who loves to play ball and cars, be a superhero, and copies everything his big brother does. Everything.
Corgan is quite a big boy. His height and weight are in the 95th percentile. He actually only began to army crawl about one month ago; the doctor said when they are tall and big like that it is harder for them to get their heft around. Today for the first time, he can go from crawling to sitting up all on his own. And he's ready to start pulling up to stand. It's possible he'll be a slightly late walker, but I'm not concerned. He loves the kitties and meows back at them. He actually had a two minute long conversation with momma kitty Ruby today. It was very cute. He says "dada" and is working on "mama" which usually comes out "nana." He's still more blond than his brothers, and I kiss his feet and squeeze his thighs regularly. I can't believe he'll be one year old in a month. I mean, didn't I just have him last month?
The animal kingdom is alive and thriving in my home. Well, maybe not thriving. Two months ago, a hamster escaped its cage and was found the next day - rather, a piece of her was found the next day. I guess Ruby was hungry. In addition, Ruby has severed the tails of two, count them, TWO different gerbils, as well as murdering another. The survivors, short stub tails notwithstanding, are doing well. One of them has become my friend, squeaking at me and letting me pet her. The other gerbil... Well, I just can't help wishing SHE had escaped her cage instead of the hamster. I actually have a pretty funny story about that, but I'll save it. I went a little crazy after the deaths of the gerbil and hamster, and replaced them rapidly. So the current (and final) tally is two gerbils, two mice, and two hamsters. I can't help it; I like the furry little buggers.
We have kept two of the kittens from Ruby's litter, two little boys we named Oliver and Mudflap (Ewan named him after a Transformer.) They are sweet little guys, and I love them so!
Lucy, a cat I bought with babysitting money when I was 16 years old, had to be put to sleep last week. She had a tumor behind her tongue that couldn't be removed without removing her tongue. So she was basically going to starve to death either way. I went to the veterinarian with my dad, who has been her constant companion since I left and got married, and I was with her until the end, which wasn't easy. I tell you, that cat has absorbed more of my tears in years past as she gave me love and comfort - during an awful heartbreak, through getting over it, moving away from home, coming back with my tail between my legs, through meeting Bryce and watching him leave on a mission, through the two years waiting for him to come home...
I feel badly for my parents, who had gotten quite attached to her, more attached than I've ever seen them to any other animal. But I'm sure she's happy, and I feel confident she's somewhere with my little Flex, playing and being friends.
Me, I'm still fat and trying to motivate myself to work out and lose the stinkin' weight. I had a setback in the middle of July when I injured my knee and had to have surgery. It's still not back at 100%, but I'm doing physical therapy, and hope to be back to normal very soon. Then I won't have any more excuses. Ewan said to me the other day, "Mommy, you need to lose weight. Every day you look like you have a baby in your belly. I call you 'needing to lose weight' mommy." It didn't hurt my feelings, it made me laugh. But when my five year old can tell I'm unhealthy, it's very convincing. For too long I've thought, "Hey, I'm young, I have time, I don't have to worry about disease or diabetes, yet." I realized finally that I am working my way through my 30s, and I don't have time anymore.
Bryce and I had our garage converted into a bedroom for us. Our home is very small - 850 sq. ft. give or take, only two bedrooms, and we were sharing a room with Corgan. There were days Bryce would come home and I'd be laying on my bed having a claustrophobic fit. There was just room for nothing, and often when I needed a moment to myself, Corgan would be napping and I couldn't go in there. I'm grateful for our house, and we have a nice, huge backyard, but we really needed our own space. So now we do, and it's lovely. Thanks to *you know who you are* for this wonderful room, and thanks to Shannon for helping me put it together.
This is already too long - the perils of not keeping up. I hope you stuck through to this point. Hopefully I will be up and running more often, humor intact. And now I need to catch up on all of your blogs! Now - good night!
Ewan is incredible. He is loving kindergarten, and announced yesterday he has a girlfriend named Sarah. For the past two days, all he has talked about are the superhero team he has formed with Sarah, Natalie, each of us, and the cats. For Halloween, he wants to be AntMan, a hero he made up after an ant bit him (mimicking what he'd seen on Spiderman when Peter Parker is bitten by the spider.) Ewan is incredibly smart, and excessively sensitive. I love him madly and am so glad to be his mommy. I'm afraid he's more like me than I would like to admit, and that equates to being a major challenge. He requires more patience and care than the other two put together, but I know through prayer and faith, it'll all be worth it.
Fynn is hilarious and fun and stubborn and frustrating, and acts like a turd much of the time. He's in his testing phase, which means he ignores nine out of ten words that come out of my mouth just so he can see how I'll react. Unfortunately, I haven't been strict enough on him - not like I was on Ewan. Being pregnant and having Corgan when Fynn was so young really threw a wrench in my parenting philosophies and one year later, we are still recovering. But I'm trying to get the reins back, and hope to be raising a polite, kind, obedient little boy soon. I mean, within reason. He is a little boy, after all. And a very cute one at that. His face is so angelic, it belies the growling attitude he has most of the time. But he's still my little cherub who loves to play ball and cars, be a superhero, and copies everything his big brother does. Everything.
Corgan is quite a big boy. His height and weight are in the 95th percentile. He actually only began to army crawl about one month ago; the doctor said when they are tall and big like that it is harder for them to get their heft around. Today for the first time, he can go from crawling to sitting up all on his own. And he's ready to start pulling up to stand. It's possible he'll be a slightly late walker, but I'm not concerned. He loves the kitties and meows back at them. He actually had a two minute long conversation with momma kitty Ruby today. It was very cute. He says "dada" and is working on "mama" which usually comes out "nana." He's still more blond than his brothers, and I kiss his feet and squeeze his thighs regularly. I can't believe he'll be one year old in a month. I mean, didn't I just have him last month?
The animal kingdom is alive and thriving in my home. Well, maybe not thriving. Two months ago, a hamster escaped its cage and was found the next day - rather, a piece of her was found the next day. I guess Ruby was hungry. In addition, Ruby has severed the tails of two, count them, TWO different gerbils, as well as murdering another. The survivors, short stub tails notwithstanding, are doing well. One of them has become my friend, squeaking at me and letting me pet her. The other gerbil... Well, I just can't help wishing SHE had escaped her cage instead of the hamster. I actually have a pretty funny story about that, but I'll save it. I went a little crazy after the deaths of the gerbil and hamster, and replaced them rapidly. So the current (and final) tally is two gerbils, two mice, and two hamsters. I can't help it; I like the furry little buggers.
We have kept two of the kittens from Ruby's litter, two little boys we named Oliver and Mudflap (Ewan named him after a Transformer.) They are sweet little guys, and I love them so!
Lucy, a cat I bought with babysitting money when I was 16 years old, had to be put to sleep last week. She had a tumor behind her tongue that couldn't be removed without removing her tongue. So she was basically going to starve to death either way. I went to the veterinarian with my dad, who has been her constant companion since I left and got married, and I was with her until the end, which wasn't easy. I tell you, that cat has absorbed more of my tears in years past as she gave me love and comfort - during an awful heartbreak, through getting over it, moving away from home, coming back with my tail between my legs, through meeting Bryce and watching him leave on a mission, through the two years waiting for him to come home...
I feel badly for my parents, who had gotten quite attached to her, more attached than I've ever seen them to any other animal. But I'm sure she's happy, and I feel confident she's somewhere with my little Flex, playing and being friends.
Me, I'm still fat and trying to motivate myself to work out and lose the stinkin' weight. I had a setback in the middle of July when I injured my knee and had to have surgery. It's still not back at 100%, but I'm doing physical therapy, and hope to be back to normal very soon. Then I won't have any more excuses. Ewan said to me the other day, "Mommy, you need to lose weight. Every day you look like you have a baby in your belly. I call you 'needing to lose weight' mommy." It didn't hurt my feelings, it made me laugh. But when my five year old can tell I'm unhealthy, it's very convincing. For too long I've thought, "Hey, I'm young, I have time, I don't have to worry about disease or diabetes, yet." I realized finally that I am working my way through my 30s, and I don't have time anymore.
Bryce and I had our garage converted into a bedroom for us. Our home is very small - 850 sq. ft. give or take, only two bedrooms, and we were sharing a room with Corgan. There were days Bryce would come home and I'd be laying on my bed having a claustrophobic fit. There was just room for nothing, and often when I needed a moment to myself, Corgan would be napping and I couldn't go in there. I'm grateful for our house, and we have a nice, huge backyard, but we really needed our own space. So now we do, and it's lovely. Thanks to *you know who you are* for this wonderful room, and thanks to Shannon for helping me put it together.
This is already too long - the perils of not keeping up. I hope you stuck through to this point. Hopefully I will be up and running more often, humor intact. And now I need to catch up on all of your blogs! Now - good night!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
What's the big deal?
I've had more than one person tell me I'm brave/crazy for posting my weight online and being so frank about what I've gained and what I'm going to do about it. I don't really understand why people are so embarrassed about their weight. I mean, anyone who knows me and sees me can tell I'm overweight - by a lot. It's not like I look skinny, and then to find out I weigh 190ish pounds is such a shocker for someone. "I had no idea you were fat!" they might say. No, people aren't stupid, if you are fat, they know it, they know you know it, and the number is not something to be ashamed of.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Random Empowering Thought of the Day
The boys are asleep, Bryce is out working, and I've been cleaning like the Queen was coming to visit tomorrow. But you know what? I'm just NOT going to clean my baseboards. I mean, why? I don't want to. It's not like we're going to be licking them. If a major stain develops, sure, I'll wipe it up. Kid vomit splashes on the baseboards - I am so there with some bleach and an old rag. But other than that, nah. So I'll sweep, I'll mop, I'll wash some dishes and laundry and put it all away. Hell, I may even dust from time to time. But I'm just not going to worry about my baseboards. Not even when I have a party. And I'm not going to feel guilty about it anymore. I'm okay with that.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Summer Survival
Ewan has a need to entertained constantly. Despite his reading abilities, he is not a child who will go sit quietly and read for an extended period of time. He has never enjoyed playing alone much, and besides wrestling Fynn in great matches that rival WWE Smackdown, he can't find anything to do. I tolerate the wrestling as long as I can, until Corgan is sleeping or my ears start to bleed, but he just won't/can't stop. He just moves constantly at lightning speed. From one end of the house to the other, over and over again. He truly can not even sit still for a short conversation or even to one sentence. And he has become quite belligerent - talking back, telling me no, questioning literally every tiny thing I say. I've taken the kids swimming, let them play out back in the water and mud, play in the sprinklers, taken them to the play area at the mall, and turned on more PBS Kids than should be legally allowed. But he's bored stiff. He really is just too smart for his own good, and I can't keep up with him! Mary Ann has offered to take him some or to watch the other boys while I take him places, but he can't be going somewhere constantly. He won't read, won't play blocks, loses interest in his Transformers very quickly now... I'm at a loss. He blossomed so much while in PreK, and I just can't wait for him to start kindergarten. He really needs that structure, constant learning, and something new every day. It's going to be a long summer. (That's not to say I won't bawl my eyes out when he starts, but, hey - methinks I'll get over it quickly.)
Corgan has two teeth now, yay! And they are the cutest teeth I've ever seen. Fynn is just busy being Fynn, talking in longer sentences every day. Not much else to report besides some cat in the neighborhood is a mourning dove assassin and I am finding their carcasses in the yard several times a week. It's been real swell.
I will go ahead and be quite frank here on my blog - I think it helps me. I've been in major denial about my weight until last week when I stepped on the scale on a whim. The wind was knocked out of me when I saw that I now weigh 194 pounds. I about fell over. With all three pregnancies, I managed to keep my weight right under 200 up until delivery day, so to see myself that close and NOT be about to deliver a baby, it freaked me out. I've cut waaaaaaay down on my Coke habit (love referring to it that way) and my abiding love for Cinnabon Cinnamon Bread. I admit I've fallen off the wagon the last two days, but it won't stop me. I'm doing it this time, by gosh! I even bought some fun exercise DVDs geared to kids and their moms. Should be fun!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Indecisive Ida
I had put down on my Facebook status that I was shutting Skillywidden down and keeping it as a personal journal. But I don't really want that; I like updating everyone with pictures and stories and tidbits. The problem is that while I was pregnant and tired and hurting nonstop, I just got so burned out, and I haven't shaken that feeling quite yet, but I want to. Because of my lack of updating, the number of people who actually look at my blog has gone down to less than 10. When I very first starting writing a blog, I loved it and felt I was good at it. I want to enjoy it again, and will make more of an effort to get back to where I was before my pregnancy turned me into a shell of my former self. It's funny - my pregnancy with Ewan was mostly okay, but with Fynn and with Corgan - my butt was totally kicked. I used to be an avid gardener, but during my pregnancy with Fynn, I lost all interest and haven't really gotten it back yet. Then with Corgan it was my writing that I fell out of love with - and I haven't gotten it back, either.
Well, whatever the reason, I'm going to make an effort from now. I'm going to try to actually write something every day - not really for the sake of updating, but to get me back into the groove of writing. I do love to write, and always have. So you'll be hearing more from me.
I think.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Right now...
... Cheez-its are ground into the rug
...Kitten-chow is scattered all over the kitchen floor, along with tiny little water pawprints
...the kitchen counters are bathed in a concoction of flour, water, enchilada sauce, and mysterious crumbs
...a novel's worth of Ewan's school papers are scattered around the house, and I can't throw them away, but have nowhere to place them
...Fynn, who skipped a nap today, is trudging around in his bedroom grabbing toys and periodically trying to escape unnoticed. Go to sleep already, kid.
...there's more dirty laundry than can be reasonably done in 24-hour period of time
...there's a stack of magazines and books about one foot tall that I never have time to read
...there's a stack of random papers and odds & ends on the side-table, again with no home to put them
...I need a shower
...a sticky substance has settled down on my desk and has started raising a little family of mini-sticky substances
... my bedroom is a disaster area of hurricane aftermath proportions of unfolded laundry and baby stuff
...I am exhausted
... I should be taking care of the things on this list, and I know I'm on the computer instead, but I just can't go in that kitchen. All I want is to settle down with cookies and vegetate.
Why can't I get this done during the day? Because Corgan never stops whining and crying, Ewan & Fynn play Spider-man to the point of injuring each other, which results in an unbearable amount of whining, and then me being followed around by mini humans saying, "Hold you, pick me up." When I do feel like I have a spare second and start to tackle something, a major spill occurs, or someone gets badly hurt, or Corgan starts SCREAMING. *Sigh* I'm tapped out. It's one of those nights where I feel like I could just go catatonic with the seemingly undoable amount of work to be done.
I'm not trying to say "woe is me," but I just love my family and want to be able to do the best for them, and just feel like I can't keep up. Argh! I know I've fussed about this before, but I just felt the need to vent as I sat here on my break from bulldozing the kitchen mess. Off to the trenches I return...
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Taylor Status
What is the plural of "status?" Is it "statuses?" "Stati?" Hold on, I'm going to look it up... Oh, wow. It's "status." Hm! Who knew? Anyway... I know I haven't been doing regular posting here other than the occasional picture explosion, so I felt like just posting the state of all things Taylor-oriented.
Corgan is ginormo-baby. Every day, Bryce or I say, "When did he get so big?!" He has no teeth, yet, but he drools like a leaky dam. He's rolling over from back to tummy, and he's starting to experiment with some consonants, constantly screeching out "D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D!" He's a very happy baby, a major contrast from the colicky screamer he was the first few months. Every time he looks at someone, usually women, his jaw opens in a gigantic gummy grin and he crinkles his nose. We've made real progress in that our friend John doesn't make him cry anymore.
Fynn is so stinkin' fun. I can't believe how much he is growing and talking. He loves bugs, and we frequently find him on his belly, very closely examining a tiny creature. I have to stop him from picking up ants and spiders, but I do let him carry around a June bug when he finds one. The other day, he kept one in his hand, alive, through two hours of car travel and shopping time. However, that little booger WILL NOT sleep at night. We put him to bed at 8:00, and that kid will get up over and over again - sometimes more than a dozen times. Nothings works, either. We tried Super Nanny's advice of not saying anything to him, but immediately putting him back in bed, we've tried spanking (just a little tap). Nothing. Right now, having been put to bed an hour ago after not napping today, he's still in there taunting Ewan and roaring like a tiger.
Before I get into an update on Ewan, just a little about him. He's been quite difficult the last couple of years. He's very anxious and seems to have some sensory issues. It's all quite difficult to explain, but it has been a struggle, one that I fear will go on and I won't know how to handle. On the other hand, he's very smart. We could hold full conversations with him when he was barely two, and when he was three, he started sounding out and reading words on his own. He's very curious about words, and asks what everything he hears means. We recently (finally) got him into Pre-K through our elementary school. It has made such a difference. He'll now draw pictures (would never before, only scribble) and is more willing to work at something, whereas before if it was just a slight challenge, he would run screaming from the room devastated. Today, his teacher flagged me down to tell me their language and speech person visited the room today. She said to me, "This boy will read anything you put in front of him." Apparently, they gave him word lists, and he was reading at above a 4th grade level. So this language specialist is going to come in each week and work with him and see what else he's capable of. I was just so excited, because I worry about him so much. I had a hard time not crying in happiness for him. He's not into sports at all, but seems to have a very scientific mind, and you'll always find him in the company of adults rather than children. More than once I've gotten to school to pick him early and found him on the playground, talking his teacher's ear off while the children ensued in hilarity around him. He's quite an interesting, awesome kid.
Bryce is working hard, but may need a second job soon. I'm trying to keep up with everything, and barely succeeding. The kittens are cute and growing and each one has a home waiting for it. In fact, one will be staying with us and Ewan has named him Flex.
Fynn scopes out the insect life.
Fynn scopes out the insect life.
The biggest worm I have ever seen, even after being accidentally cut by a shovel.
So disgusting, yet so AWESOME.
Flex is on the left. Say a prayer: Fynn is determined to slam the door on one of them.
This is what Fynn does when I've banned him from the kittens. I tried to get a shot of one of their paws coming out, but they were too quick.
So disgusting, yet so AWESOME.
Flex is on the left. Say a prayer: Fynn is determined to slam the door on one of them.
This is what Fynn does when I've banned him from the kittens. I tried to get a shot of one of their paws coming out, but they were too quick.Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Hodgepodge
Saturday, we wanted to get out of the house, and since the Wisteria are blooming everywhere, I really wanted to go to the Botanical Gardens. My grandmother had Wisteria growing all over her back fence, and in the spring, you could smell it the second you pulled up in her driveway, and the backyard would just be a wonderland of purple. She's been gone for nearly twelve years now, and whenever I see Wisteria, I think of her. (I think of her with many flowers, actually.) I have some growing in my yard, but they don't bloom yet because it's a young vine. Watch - the first year we are out of this house, they will explode. We were looking for them at the Gardens on one of the paths, when Ewan and I both said, "I smell grapes!" We turned a corner, and BAM! there they were. It was gorgeous. They are right next to the roses, and the combination of the two scents made me feel like I was sitting RIGHT THERE in Grandma's backyard, talking about flowers and babies. She lived only a few blocks away, and when I was babysitting my nephew Chandler, Amy and I would put him in the stroller and walk over there. He'd play by her little fish pond while we all talked.
From a distance - look how high they climb.
Strolling
I wrote a poem years ago about sunbathing with turtles. I would post it here, but I'm sure it's not as good as I thought at the time.
A reluctant pose from Ewan. His favorite part of the excursion was sitting and being able to play with his new Transformers.
Another reluctant pose.
I didn't even ask him to sit for this. He just wandered over to this tree like it was a professional shoot, and he was a model. Then he started ripping daffodils out of the ground.
My attempt at photography.
Mommy and a 5-month-old Corgan. Let this serve as his 5 month post.
I could not resist posting this, with Fynn's arm around Corgan like real chums. I love these boys so much. Continuing on the 5-month-post vein, Corgan is growing so much. He "talks" all day and shouts out to hear himself. He's rolling from stomach to back, and almost from back to stomach. He usually ends up turning a 180 in the attempt.
From a distance - look how high they climb.
Strolling
I wrote a poem years ago about sunbathing with turtles. I would post it here, but I'm sure it's not as good as I thought at the time.
A reluctant pose from Ewan. His favorite part of the excursion was sitting and being able to play with his new Transformers.
Another reluctant pose.
I didn't even ask him to sit for this. He just wandered over to this tree like it was a professional shoot, and he was a model. Then he started ripping daffodils out of the ground.
My attempt at photography.
Mommy and a 5-month-old Corgan. Let this serve as his 5 month post.
I could not resist posting this, with Fynn's arm around Corgan like real chums. I love these boys so much. Continuing on the 5-month-post vein, Corgan is growing so much. He "talks" all day and shouts out to hear himself. He's rolling from stomach to back, and almost from back to stomach. He usually ends up turning a 180 in the attempt. Saturday, March 7, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
For the little girl in all of you...
What I wouldn't give to go back in time for one day and play Barbies with my sister. Oh, and this post on Go Fug Yourself pretty much sums up my Barbie-playing as a kid. It's completely hilarious.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Drum roll...
... Missy and I are so excited to launch our labor of love and invite you over to check out our new website, Primp and Tell. It's about all things girly, makeup-y, primp-y, fashiony, and fun! There might even be a little celebrity gossip from time to time. We have been working on this for a while, and hope it can be a resource to which you come to help influence your primping decisions. Several times a week, we will be reviewing our latest drugstore buys. Our aim is to bring to your attention the products that we love or hate - and tell you why. The website is still a baby, so pardon any growing pains we may go through, but we have a lot of great ideas and can't wait to see what happens.
To celebrate our first month online, we will be giving away one of our favorite picks each week. Please check in at Primp and Tell over the next few days to find out which pick is going to be this week's giveaway. Once we post that review and announce the product for this week, please leave a comment on the review post to enter. After our first four giveaways, we will still hold a new one each month. Please spread the word to anyone you know who loves cosmetics, girl talk and a great buy. We hope you have as much fun with it as we have.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
I'm lame.
Thanks to Missy for this fun list. Copy and bold the things you have done.
1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain (kind of)
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables (a bust)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Redwoods
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life (Does saving a mouse's life count?)
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Got a tattoo
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain (kind of)
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables (a bust)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Redwoods
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life (Does saving a mouse's life count?)
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Got a tattoo
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
Brycentonian
I haven't had much to blog about lately. Dooce posted some random questions and answers about her husband, and it was so fun to read more about her and him. She invited readers to do the same in her comments or on their own blog. I think I've posted a version of this before, so I apologize if any of this repeats. Before I get into it, however, there is a project Missy and I have been working on for about a month - and we are very excited about it. That's all I'll say about it for now - but check in next week for more details. (And don't even ask me - I will so not tell you yet. No matter who you are.) Who knows... perhaps there will even be a lovely giveaway. Or several...
What are your middle names?
My middle name is Nicole, his middle name is Patrick.
How long have you been together?
We were kind of "together" for over two years before we got married, so all totaled we've been together over eight years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Maybe a month.
Who asked whom out?
Pretty much I asked him out. I was pretty confident and bold, which is not usually like me, and I actually used some pick-up lines. "Wow, your eyes are so pretty." I had a wonderful guy friend plant the seed in his head about me, and then I started asking for rides to everything. "I just don't have a way to get there, can I get your number and I'll call you to give you directions...?" Next thing I knew, rides turned into spending full days together, each outing more elaborate and "datelike," often ending in an all-night phone call.
How old are each of you?
I'm 32 and he's 29.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
About the same. I have eight siblings, five of which live in Utah. He hasn't even met one of my brothers. I have Ashley that we see fairly often, and Amy lives in Austin so we only see her occasionally. We see my brother Erik maybe once every six months. Bryce has two brothers, one in Chicago and one in Houston. We just see them whenever they are in town.
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Right now, adjusting to life after Corgan. The pregnancy was so incredibly hard on me in so many ways, and I'm still recovering - mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually - you name it. Plus, Corgan has been our most difficult baby. He's quite the crier, and won't ever be consoled by Bryce.
Did you go to the same school?
No.
Are you from the same home town?
Close. Him - Duncanville. Me - Grand Prairie. For non-Texans, that's less than ten miles.
Who is smarter?
We are both smart in very different ways. I'm more of a word/English smart, and he's more math/computer smart.
Who is the most sensitive?
Both.
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Usually wherever I pick. He's good about that.
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Oregon.
Who has the craziest exes?
I would have to say me, just because I have more exes. The odds are in my favor.
Who has the worst temper?
ME.
Who does the cooking?
Me, IF it gets done. I hate cooking.
Who is the neat-freak?
I try to be.
Who is more stubborn?
Me.
Who hogs the bed?
Corgan. :)
Who wakes up earlier?
Bryce. Or Ewan, the little booger.
Where was your first date?
There were many "first dates." Friendly "I don't want to admit I like you" date was On the Border. Friendlier "I totally dig you, man, but don't want you to know. But I'll still take you to this totally expensive restaurant" date was at a place called Aquanox. Then there was just watching the rain in his backyard. No one certain first date, really.
Who is more jealous?
Bryce. Bryce. Bryce. Bryce. Bryce.
How long did it take to get serious?
Maybe two weeks.
Who eats more?
Totally me. He orders salads and water. I order steak with double fries, a side of mashed potatoes and a trough of Coke. But he snacks CONSTANTLY, whereas I do not.
Who does the laundry?
Me.
Who's better with the computer?
Bryce
Who drives when you are together?
Usually Bryce.
Feel free to copy!
What are your middle names?
My middle name is Nicole, his middle name is Patrick.
How long have you been together?
We were kind of "together" for over two years before we got married, so all totaled we've been together over eight years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Maybe a month.
Who asked whom out?
Pretty much I asked him out. I was pretty confident and bold, which is not usually like me, and I actually used some pick-up lines. "Wow, your eyes are so pretty." I had a wonderful guy friend plant the seed in his head about me, and then I started asking for rides to everything. "I just don't have a way to get there, can I get your number and I'll call you to give you directions...?" Next thing I knew, rides turned into spending full days together, each outing more elaborate and "datelike," often ending in an all-night phone call.
How old are each of you?
I'm 32 and he's 29.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
About the same. I have eight siblings, five of which live in Utah. He hasn't even met one of my brothers. I have Ashley that we see fairly often, and Amy lives in Austin so we only see her occasionally. We see my brother Erik maybe once every six months. Bryce has two brothers, one in Chicago and one in Houston. We just see them whenever they are in town.
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Right now, adjusting to life after Corgan. The pregnancy was so incredibly hard on me in so many ways, and I'm still recovering - mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually - you name it. Plus, Corgan has been our most difficult baby. He's quite the crier, and won't ever be consoled by Bryce.
Did you go to the same school?
No.
Are you from the same home town?
Close. Him - Duncanville. Me - Grand Prairie. For non-Texans, that's less than ten miles.
Who is smarter?
We are both smart in very different ways. I'm more of a word/English smart, and he's more math/computer smart.
Who is the most sensitive?
Both.
Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Usually wherever I pick. He's good about that.
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Oregon.
Who has the craziest exes?
I would have to say me, just because I have more exes. The odds are in my favor.
Who has the worst temper?
ME.
Who does the cooking?
Me, IF it gets done. I hate cooking.
Who is the neat-freak?
I try to be.
Who is more stubborn?
Me.
Who hogs the bed?
Corgan. :)
Who wakes up earlier?
Bryce. Or Ewan, the little booger.
Where was your first date?
There were many "first dates." Friendly "I don't want to admit I like you" date was On the Border. Friendlier "I totally dig you, man, but don't want you to know. But I'll still take you to this totally expensive restaurant" date was at a place called Aquanox. Then there was just watching the rain in his backyard. No one certain first date, really.
Who is more jealous?
Bryce. Bryce. Bryce. Bryce. Bryce.
How long did it take to get serious?
Maybe two weeks.
Who eats more?
Totally me. He orders salads and water. I order steak with double fries, a side of mashed potatoes and a trough of Coke. But he snacks CONSTANTLY, whereas I do not.
Who does the laundry?
Me.
Who's better with the computer?
Bryce
Who drives when you are together?
Usually Bryce.
Feel free to copy!
Saturday, February 7, 2009
My birthday
On Thursday the 5th, my parents celebrated their 49th anniversary, and I turned 32. (Holy cow to both.) It was a good day. (Not counting my two-hour pity party. What is it about birthdays that make me whiny?!) I had mistakenly scheduled a dermatologist appointment for that morning, and I had double-booked a play date with Shannon and the gang. When I realized my mistake, I just asked if she could sit with Ewan and Fynn for my short appointment. Shannon made me the cutest little mushroom house for fairies that I totally love. I used to draw little ones identical to it all over my papers in high school. (I found out later several teachers and a friend's mom thought I was into 'shrooms. I didn't even know you could "do" 'shrooms. So there, haters!) At my appointment, the doctor wished me a happy birthday and had her assistant pack me a bag full of nice samples from Aveeno and Eucerin, among others. Awesome! When I went back to pick up the boys, Shannon had made my favorite cake: yellow with chocolate frosting, and the kids helped put on the sprinkles. It was very yummy, and again, thanks, Shannon! Then Julie stopped by with a can of Coke and two little birds she had made. They are so cute, and actually go quite nicely with Shannon's mushroom house. Bryce came home from work with some beautiful flowers and we went out for some Italian food. All in all, a simple, good day with lots of wonderful well-wishes on Facebook and in messages. Happy anniversary to my parents, and be forewarned for next year the 5oth!
Ignore the fact that I need to dust, and look how cute! I love all of them. Do you see the little door and window on the fairy house? Divine. I don't deserve such good friendships.
Ignore the fact that I need to dust, and look how cute! I love all of them. Do you see the little door and window on the fairy house? Divine. I don't deserve such good friendships.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
More best pictures ever
Here are more shots from our family photo session with Missy. There are so many beautiful ones, I don't know if I'll be able to limit myself on posting them. Ewan does this a lot to Missy when she gets the camera out, he just makes faces and acts so goofy. But I love the look of sheer joy on his face in these pictures. He looks so happy and like he's having so much fun. Fynn just takes my breath away. And Corgan, we just love him so, poor thing was cold and wanted to be somewhere warm. I really like these, especially the fun, unplanned ones where the boys' personalities show through.
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