Regret

My basic nature requires that I live with a great deal of regret and being the mother of three children triples the amount of regret that I live with. One of my biggest regrets as a mother is that I didn't pierce my girls' ears when they were babies. I know, it seems dumb, but I knew that they'd want them pierced eventually and it's so much easier to just do it as babies, I should have just done it then. Now I've created problems.

Jane has been desperate for several months to get her ears pierced and I told her that she could do it whenever she wanted to, but she was terrified. I don't blame her, the thought of forcing two more holes into my head isn't a pleasant one for me either.

In an effort to appease my guilt and satisfy her apparent need for adornment (that's a word, right?), I made her several pairs of clip on earrings. I felt like quite an attentive parent. She would wear them as long as her little ears could tolerate them, but they pinch! I can't imagine that piercing them hurts any less that clipping those things on.

Finally, Saturday morning, she must have had enough because she came in our room, woke me up, and with a look of utter and complete determination said

"Mom, I'm going to get my ears pierced today. I'm gunna do it."

I didn't take her seriously because I was sure she'd bail. She didn't. I held my word and took her to the mall where she bravely sat there and took the pain like a pro. Not a flinch and not a tear. That's saying something, coming from Jane who cries at the drop of a hat.



I'm actually really proud of her for going through with it, bravery isn't her strength. Now I just have the rest of my life to regret that I've been raising her to allow her vanity to motivate her that much. Oh well. I'll worry about that another day. She's stinking adorable.

My Apologies

I am sorry to everyone else in the world, but it seems that I have officially given birth to the most adorable boy out there.
Ok, I suppose I might be a little biased, but seriously...







I don't know how she managed this one since Charlie doesn't actually sit up yet.

Brooke is amazing. I stole these from her website, hope that you don't mind! If you are in the Salt Lake area and want/need an awesome photographer, I highly recommend Brooke. You can always link to her from my blog, oliverminie j. photography is in the links on the right.

It's Raining, It's Pouring

Ok, so it wasn't really pouring today, just drizzling, and it was only for a little while in the morning, but I got the girls these cute raincoats for Christmas and we were all excited for them to be able to use them today.



When I woke up this morning to gloom I figured that it was going to be a designated pajama day (days that I make a conscious effort to be a slob instead of allowing it to happen without my notice), but when my kids staggered their wake-up times over the course of about 3 hours and I had ample time to get them clean and clothed, we decided to venture out instead. I made the girls go outside and pretend to play in the cold rain so that I could try to take some pictures of them, but they both ended up crying and coming in within about 5 minutes. So much for that idea. Lizzy was particularly disgruntled. At least I tried.

That Darn Cat

We have a cat. Her name is Nina*. Nina is good for a lot of things. She is very useful if you like to be awakened at 4:00 in the morning because she wants to be let outside. She is fabulous at covering pillows, blankets, car seats, bouncy chairs and coats with a carpet of cat hair. She also has a gimpy eye that oozes brown goo sometimes and she likes to rub it on your clothes. But I have to say that out of all her good qualities, the most endearing is her fondness for killing birds.

The birds she kills are always small, unlike our old cat who took out magpies on her good days. Is it just me or does it seem a little cheap to take out something so much smaller than you are? This morning she killed 2 birds and was kind enough to bring them to the door for us. I'm sure it was to make them easier to find, I'll have to thank her for that later. She usually just leaves them in the grass or the playhouse or somewhere for the children to find and poke at and then come screaming.

Lizzy was kind enough to inform me this morning... "Mom! Nina kill birdie!"


the morning's casualties

The kids wanted to go out and play, but I wasn't about to let them out there with two (I'm going to assume) diseased, dead birds hanging out on the porch. I tried to follow Brent's example and pick them up with a shovel to dispose of them. It was harder than it looked. It was like trying to pick up a limp noodle. Lucky for me, one of my favorite people, Brooklyn (more on her later), is hanging out at our house today. She was happy to take care of it for me.



ew.

After she also failed to pick them up with the shovel, she took a much more... practical route and just grabbed the little corpses. I gagged, but I'm sure glad she was here to take care of the dirty work.



Nina: bird murderer. This is the face of a cold blooded killer. No remorse at all.



*Our old cat was named Abby. My mom has a cat named Sadie. I will have all cousins with children bearing the same names know that we did not name our cats after your kids, you named your kids after our cats. They all feel very honored. :)



Edited to say: For the record, the reason that I have a cat is because I love her. Yes, she drives us a little crazy, but she is really quite sweet and affectionate. Plus, she still has a kitty face, which is super cute.

I'd like to bear my testimony of...

For those of you who find me bordering on sacrilegious when I write my testimony posts, this one is for you. Today, I want to bear my testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It seems to me to be a little out of my character to do so, especially on my blog, but I'm going to do it anyway.

What a blessing it was for me to watch/listen to General Conference this weekend. For too many weeks, I've felt as though I've been floating around in this world without anything to hold me down. I have felt lost, without purpose, easily frustrated, easily confused and sometimes downright depressed. I have known that I needed to find my feet and that I needed the Lord to help me find them, but sometimes you get so lost that you don't even know where to start to get back on track, you know? I won't burden you with any more details, but now, more than ever, I think that I understand the misery of damnation. There is nothing more horrible than the inability to progress.

It's hard for me to listen to leaders of this church speak. The words that they speak can just pierce my soul, I feel as though they are reading into my mind, finding all of my weaknesses and insecurities and laying them out for the world to hear all about them. They make me feel so unbelievably inadequate, so small, so insignificant, so weak. It's in my nature, like so many others, to let those thoughts lead me to just give up and stop trying, but I'm trying to fight those inclinations. One thing that I know the Lord has blessed me with is a sense of who I am and where I came from. I know that there is so much more to me than what I have become so far. I know that the Lord has given me great potential and I don't want to let him down by not even trying to reach it.

I still don't exactly know where to start, I still feel incredibly inadequate, probably because I am. But I want, so desperately to please Him. I want to do what He wants me to do. I want Him to know that I've tried my hardest to be His servant. I want to take the inadequacy that I feel and allow it to motivate me to be an improved person, propel me onto a different level of living. Through all of the negativity I feel about myself, I also have a great deal of hope and excitement for what I can become.

I hope that all of you took the opportunity to listen to conference as well... who were your favorite speakers? What touched and inspired you?

I'm Sorry

I know, I'm posting like crazy, but I had to share...
Tonight we put Lizzy to bed and later heard her playing in her room. I saw that she had turned her light on and heard her playing with a book that plays music. We just ignored her since she spends a lot of time playing in her room instead of going to bed. After a while, she started to cry, then scream. I debated whether or not to go in there. She screams and cries every single night and we're trying to stop placating her. Eventually she stopped and I figured she had gone to sleep.

Later, I went upstairs and noticed that her light was still on, that's unusual. I cracked the door to turn it off and I noticed that she wasn't in bed. I looked on the floor... no Lizzy. I walked in the room kind of confused and a little nervous. Not next to the dresser, not behind the door, where the crap did she go? Finally I thought to open the closet.

Turns out that my little baby had locked herself in the closet with the musical book. She had been screaming and banging to get out and I just ignored her. She finally gave up and curled up in a tiny little Lizzy ball on the floor of the closet and was using her doll as a pillow as she slept.

I feel horrible.

When I get a brand new hairdo...

Have you ever noticed how many women blog about their hair? I'm a total hypocrite when it comes to hair posts because if I know you, I'm actually very interested in your hair. Want me to vote on a new style? Yes, PLEASE! Want to show me before and afters? I'm so there.

But if I don't know you, that is, if I have intruded into your private life via your personal blog where you share things that are intended only for your loved ones, I will judge you, harshly, for being so vain as to think that I (the uninvited stranger) care about what color your highlights are this month. Ya, I'm a TOTAL hypocrite...

and I will now proceed to blog about my hair.

I think that every woman should have their thing that makes them feel girly, girls need that. Some do their nails or buy makeup or shoes. For me, it's my hair. I spend a lot of money on my hair. Between the cuts, the shampoo and the products, let's just say that I don't tell Brent how much I spend. I hate to admit that in case you think that it always looks bad. Brent used to work with a woman that was still sporting a mullet or "femullet," if you will. When we found out from her husband that she forked out over $60 a month to keep up that unsightly 'do, we about died. Anyway, my thing is my hair. There will be no GreatClips or SuperCuts stylist anywhere near my brunette locks, thankyouverymuch. I'm one of a trillion women with a head full of insecurities and I think that my hair is my best feature, so I act accordingly.

Considering how much time I obviously spend thinking about hair, I'm surprised to have realized that I've been in a hair rut for the past several years. Observe:


Summer 06'


Summer 07'


Summer 08'

I decided it was high time for a slight modification and made an appointment to go in last week.

Problem is that since I go to such an expensive (and skilled) stylist and I am NOT made of money, I end up stretching out my cuts as far apart as I can get away with, sometimes longer. I know, I make no sense. And the hair stylists are always way cooler, and more beautiful than I am. They are all into fashion and music, they spend the whole hour I'm there talking about the awesome party/club/show they went to over the weekend and what they're planning to do at the gym that night and what cool vacation they have planned, just to start.

Then there's me. The stay at home mom living in Sandy, Utah.

So I before I go, I feel compelled to take hours to prepare myself for the experience. I try to make my overgrown hair look half way decent (so that it can immediately be washed), put on makeup for the first time all week and go through my entire closet in an effort to assemble an outfit that will make me look as fashionable as possible. It does no good. They all see right though me and I know it. Last week when I was there, I had the humiliating experience of being asked what kind of music I listen to. The coolest thing I could think of at the moment was the Killers at which point my stylist informed me that the last time they played here, they performed at Saltair and since he knows the owners (of course) he got box seats and so on. Ya, I get it. I'm not cool.

It's worth it though.


yes, i took this photo of myself and yes, i felt weird which is why i couldn't look at the camera. i don't mind the armpit pic (as i understand they are known) when i'm not the only person in the photo. i'm not even entirely sure you can get a good idea of what my hair looks like.

The reason that I'm moved to the point of posting about by my cut is that I don't really actually have to do my hair. For my whole life, I had board straight hair until Lizzy was born. Since then it's been all wavy and when it is cut this short, it requires only a little encouragement to give me a finished product. It's dramatically cutting down on the amount of time it takes me to get ready in the morning (or afternoon) which I always very much appreciate.

So there you have it. I have just blogged about my hair, several photos included. Judge away. I can take it.