Monday, June 21, 2010

"I want something sweet to eat."

I know I've been posting a lot of 'Brent' photos lately, but when I feel so inspired, I feel so inspired.


Deal with it.
And this one is really cute.
Extra super cute.


And Lizzy is really cute. Especially when she's eating something sweet.

This morning, she was complaining that she was hungry. She's found that she really enjoys refusing food and then complaining about her hunger shortly thereafter. I've found it to be completely obnoxious.

"but mooOOOoom! i'm so hungry! i need some candy! look. they have candy here at dee store. you could buy me some!" she squeals in the middle of Wal-Mart.
"No Lizzy. I tried to feed you breakfast and you wouldn't eat it. I'm NOT buying candy."
"but my tummy hurts! i have a headache in my tummy!"

When we finally got home, she raided the pantry for sweet treats and consumed several packages of fruit snacks before I could stop her. Ah Miss Biz. Good thing you're so cute.




btw - the title of this post is a quote from my youth. my parents remind me that it was one of my favorite phrases. i suppose the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

The moment we've all been waiting for

Let's be honest with ourselves here...

Don't we all want to have boys because some day, we want to be able to take pictures of them following their daddies around the yard with their little lawn mowers?



No?


Hmmm. That was my motivation.


I think we'd all agree that it's at least a perk.
I'm waiting for the day that he's big enough to run the real one. Now THAT'S a perk.


I also enjoy being able to get him dressed up all snazzy for church on Sundays.


He enjoys getting dressed up all snazzy, eating cold pizza and dancing on the table before church on Sundays. I think the shoes make him feel fancy. He loves those green shoes.


He also loves his daddy a lot this weekend. I'd be jealous, but seeing as how it's Father's Day, I'm going to let it go.


Thursday, June 17, 2010

Thursday was a couch day

I really do actually have things to post about because I've been a busy girl.


Monday, I (almost) finished decorating Lizzy's room. It only took like a year and a half to get on that. I need to get some pictures of it so I can post about it.

Tuesday, we went to the children's garden at Thanksgiving Point with some friends and I took lots of pictures so that I could post about it.

Wednesday we went to Wheeler Farm and I took lots of pictures so that I could post about it.

Thursday, we did nothing. I can't be exciting and/or fun and/or productive every day. I'm just not that cool.

Problem is, I don't feel like posting about anything. My kids brought home some sort of funk that they've been so kind as to share with me. I wish they'd keep their funk to themselves. If your kids have been anywhere near my kids and they bring home funk, it's probably our fault. Allow me to apologize in advance.

Anyway...I don't feel good and I don't really have what it takes to write something that requires very much from me. So instead, I'll write about what I did today, which was nothing.



That was easy.

And instead of posting a series of photos of my family out and about and enjoying the summer, I'll post a series of photos of my husband and son, sitting on the couch, watching sports after we had put the cranky girls to bed early.




I am currently planted in the exact location pictured. I've been here for a large part of the afternoon and evening, only taking a short break around 7:00 to allow the men in my life to watch basketball. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make. I really like them.

I also really like my couch.


Tuesday, June 15, 2010

In conclusion,

So, I realize that I never ended up posting follow up pictures of Jane's dance recital.

Allow me to do so now.


Jane and her buddy, Abby. Actually, Jane took dance with all her little neighborhood friends, but they all scattered away before we could get a photo of them together. Jane didn't get flowers. She never gets flowers after her recitals because her mom is a bum and I always forget until I'm there. Apparently she doesn't have a problem mooching off of other people's flowers though. Works for me.


I swear her hair looked better when I sent her. Dancing messes up hair.


Jane found a pine cone and apparently felt an immediate connection with it.
Jane + pine cone = love.


Seriously Jane, what's with the pine cone?

Other memorable moments at the recital include-

1.Charlie screaming and squirming so much that Brent had to take him out for most of it.

2.Ben coming and then dancing in his seat every time the boys came out. In fact, when he was watching them in almost a trance, I asked
"Ben, do you want to dance?"
"YES." he replied enthusiastically.
"Ben, do you want to play soccer?"
"Not anymore."
His dad is stoked, I'm sure. These are the reasons Cameron loves me.

3. Lizzy was crushed when she realized that this is what Jane had been doing all year without her. She totally felt shafted. Middle children are always feeling shafted, largely because we are.


But she perked up a bit when I told her that she could take dance next year.
Looks like my life will be a life of dance. That's what I get for going and having girls.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Kids with a camera

I'm always amused (and irritated) when I go to use my camera and when I turn it on, I find that my children have - at some point- gotten a hold of it and taken random and bizarre photos. Here's what I found today...




Jane and Lizzy and I went to a birthday party for our friend, Brooklyn, today. That girl is amazing. She's turning 15 tomorrow and had a party held in a church with a live band and a gazillion people there who all agree with me that she's amazing.
I bring this up because I sat next to Brooklyn's mom, thinking how I don't know another person in the whole world who could pull off that kind of a rockin' birthday party other than Brooklyn, and then I looked up to see my eldest daughter full on skanking, by herself, having a grand old time in the middle of the dance floor. One would never have guessed that mere minutes before, she was so terrified of the building and everything in it that she would hardly let go of my leg and broke into tears at least a couple of times.

At that point, I leaned over to Brooklyn's mom and thinking that she could probably relate, I asked "Did you ever have a moment when you looked at your daughter and thought to yourself 'that girl is a piece of work.'? Because I'm having one of those moments."





Actually, I have a lot of those moments with Jane. Good heavens, if we all make through her teenage years, it will be a miracle. But I'd never change her even if I could because I love a girl with spirit and that is why I love Jane. And Brooklyn too.



Moving on, Lizzy also got her sticky little fingers on my camera. And they WERE sticky. Literally. Like, several wipees were employed in an effort to restore the camera to it's original 'not sticky' state.



Although I believe we'd all prefer to see them from a little further distance, one must admit that my middle child has some amazing eyelashes.
They look ever better when she doesn't appear as though she's been drugged.
But in all fairness, she probably had been.
Don't judge me.
You're judging me, aren't you?
Dealing with a toddler with insomnia is really no fun.
I promise.
For Pete's sake, why do I always seem compelled to talk about the occasions wherein I medicate my children on this blog? I really don't understand myself sometimes. I'd better just delete this whole paragraph before you
a) think I'm a bad parent for drugging my child on a regular basis
b) think that I'm a lunatic or
c) I regret publishing it.

Oh, nevermind. I don't care that much.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Reason No. 52 for me to be reluctantly supportive of Jane's dance career

Fact: I'm not a dancer.

Never have been. And at this point, I doubt I ever will be. My mom tried, she really did, but I just wasn't into it.

I think that it costs ridiculous amounts of money.
I think that it sexualizes young girls.
I think that it puts too much stress on kids that need to spend more time living life and less time dancing.
I think the outfits are almost exclusively without taste.
I think that it points out the physical flaws and differences in girls, breeding insecurities, undue pride and a shallow way of thinking about their own value.
*I think that "dance moms" that get worked up over how their daughter looks in this year's costume and how advanced her class is are completely obnoxious.

I could go on, but in an effort to prevent you all from thinking that I'm a total stick in the mud, I'll stop there.

Suffice it to say that I've never understood the drama, the stress, the whole culture behind dance and I've been pleased that I've been able to avoid it all my life... until now.


Fact: Jane is a dancer. She likes it and I think she's got potential to be really good at it.

This puts me in a tough spot.
For most people? Not so tough.
For me? A woman who has deep seated moral opposition to the art that has probably directly resulted from knowing that so many of my friends that I grew up with in Las Vegas ultimately became strippers to pay the bills instead of doing something more productive with their dance training (not to mention my own inability to succeed at it and all the girls who did that ultimately made me feel inferior to them)? I'm in a tough spot.

I keep worrying and worrying about what to do next year. It's a scary thing when you realize that the judgement calls you make when your child is 5 can have serious long term effects on the person that they ultimately become. Being a mom totally sucks sometimes.

But I can't think about that right now. I'll go crazy if I do. I'll think about that tomorrow.

Today is Jane's dance recital and Reason No. 52 for me to be reluctantly supportive of Jane's career in dance would be her neon pink, zebra print, hot shorts/halter top combo of a costume.




The other ones are neon green. I'm just glad that I got the pink one.


Yes, my daughter is wearing makeup. Don't judge me. She's always trying to put it on, so we have a deal that she'll stay out of my drawers if I promise to put in on her for dance recitals and halloween.

I DO think that next year, she's going to start focusing on ballet more. Wanna see why?


She just poses like that on her own. This photo's just screaming for some ballet slippers and a tutu. And less neon pink zebra print.


Show off.


btw... did I ever mention that I finally picked a color for my new front door? Guess what color it turned out.

These pictures were taken a few minutes ago BEFORE her recital. I'll get some more when we go and post those later. There's a whole 'nother classy outfit to photograph.

Mostly, this post exists because I'm feeling tormented by dance at the moment and I needed someone to talk this over with. Thank you computer. I know that YOU'RE always there for me, unlike my husband who is currently asleep and completely oblivious to how I suffer.

That was a joke.
Ya, this post makes me sound like a total stick in the mud. I'll try to liven up a bit for the next one.



* You should know that I'm totally turning into a "dance mom." How can this be happening?

Friday, June 4, 2010

Is it wrong?

Is it wrong that Lizzy reminds me of Ash from The Fantastic Mr. Fox?




"What is this with the cape and the pants tucked into your socks?"

If you haven't actually SEEN The Fantastic Mr. Fox yet, I suggest that you repent of your past sins and view it as soon as humanly possible. I'd loan you my copy, but I plan on watching it today.

If you haven't actually HEARD of the Fantastic Mr. Fox yet, I am truly sorry for you and in an effort to rectify the unfortunate situation, here's a link to a preview.



Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Up at the crack

While we were vacationing over the weekend, we made a trip (or two) down to sunny St. George. We generally go to St. George when we visit my parents. Surprisingly enough, Summit, Utah isn't the busting metropolis that you'd expect and sometimes we just feel the need to get out. Plus, they have the world's most fabulous Home Goods down there. I always find myself tempted to throw away our life's savings in a single shopping trip. For this reason, the husbands and children are not such big fans of our St. George trips. Apparently the draw to the St. George Home Goods isn't universal.


Anyway, we decided to try something different this time and instead of heading straight for the shopping, we did something fun. We went to the local, convenient slot canyon to play around for a while.


Did I mention that Leslie and her kids were there too?

I had a picture of Leslie holding Davie that I thought was pretty cute and I was going to post it, but when she pointed out that she looked pregnant in it (and she did), I decided not to do that to her.


Exploration...


Lizzy liked it there.


Jane too, apparently.


It was fun to see the kids finding their inner mt. goats. I realized that we really don't give them the chance to get out and climb around nearly enough. By the end of the weekend, they were much more comfortable hopping on rocks.


It's a useful skill, that hopping on rocks. One that each child should be given the opportunity to master.


We also went to the Brigham Young Winter Home. Look at us being tourists! Leslie was supposed to get a photo of my family, but instead of waiting until I was able to gather my chicks, she took this, then she gave the camera back and told me that it was time to go.

I've chosen to forgive her.
The children may have been unavailable to photograph as a result of the tantrums/unruly behavior/exhaustion that resulted from said trip to the Brigham Young Winter Home.

But instead of putting them out of their misery and heading home, we decided to reward their tantrums by taking them to get frozen custard.


Look at Davie. You can see the sleep deprivation on his face.


And in Charlie's loopy smile.

I'm willing to put up with a lot to consume frozen custard.

And with that, we finally loaded our young family in the minivan, made sure they were all nice and comfortable and made the hour drive back to Summit...

..right after I went to the Home Goods.