Dese my keys.

"dese my keys, mommy. dese my keys."

"Ya? Those are your keys?"

"yaaaaa. day doan work."

Several photos that weird me out.

I took this photo yesterday before dance photos. This is a photo of my 6 year old. She's six. Not to be confused with 10 or 12 or any age other than 6. Is this a glimpse of things to come?

Yes, I realize that I have created this. It isn't as though she's capable of accurately applying liquid eyeliner to herself. In my weak, shameful defense, I was trying to bribe her younger sister into cleaning her room and getting her pictures taken by offering to do a full makeup on her when Jane jumped on the offer and cleaned her room up lickety split. Lizzy never did. She didn't even get her pictures done. I guess that is just one of the many differences between my two girls. When makeup is calling, Jane answers.

Actually, Lizzy answers too, but she's more interested in applying it herself...

Nice lipstick, Biz.

We took a lot of pictures. In part because Jane is never opposed to having her likeness taken, but mostly because every time I looked at her, I had to make sure that I got a picture of her all dolled up.

She's growing up WAY too fast.

And I'm totally weirded out.

Happy Easter!

I figured that it was about time I posted some family photos, even if they leave something to be desired...

Hope that everyone had a delightful Easter Sunday!

Lizzy's Birthweekend

Let it be known, that I actually sat down to post this on Sunday night, but then I got sick. Literally. It was really weird. I spent the weekend making all of Lizzy's birthday dreams come true and on Sunday night, I tucked the kids in bed, Brent and I cleaned the kitchen, I sighed and big sigh and then... I sat. Within about 30 minutes, I got all shaky and feverish, my head started to ache, I got congested and achy. I believe I was in tears by the time I snuggled in under my 50 blankets. It was a lot to process all at once. My family has been really good taking care of me, and I'm finally feeling like I can re-enter the living world, but that is my excuse for not posting.

Anyway... It was Lizzy's 4th birthday over the weekend. See?

FOUR!

And in all of the 4 years that my darling has been alive, I don't feel like she's ever had a legitimate birthday celebration. She's my forgotten child. When she was blessed, we had no celebration because we were remodeling our kitchen. On her first birthday, we were moving. For her second and third birthdays, I don't remember what we did, so it wasn't much. In the grand scheme of things, I know it doesn't really matter, but the perceived neglect has been weighing heavily on my mind and my heart and I was determined to rectify the situation this year. So celebrate, we did!

We had a princess party on Friday, because, when your 4, is there any other kind of party? We did have a couple princes come too, which was really cute.

Miss Biz chose this outfit, which looks kinda more like a flapper to me than a princess, but it was her party.

We decorated with my favorite paper chains...

We made crowns, which turned out to be a little more complicated than I was expecting. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it was obviously unreasonable.

And there were lots of hugs. We made it through the the party with relatively few tears, lots of smiling little kids and one extra happy Lizzy.

But we were just getting going because her birthday wasn't actually until Sunday. We had Brent's parents and Leslie and her family for dinner, where Lizzy got round two of cake and presents.

See? She's 4 again. And she got a new bike because she left her old one under the rear wheel of Jaime's van last fall and, well, it's no longer with us. Even Jaime couldn't fix it.

But her favorite thing was actually her new swim suit. And the "paper money" her Grammy gave her.

So those two celebrations, plus her special day at preschool and her special day at church left her feeling very much the star of the weekend. And apparently I gave myself the flu over it. I hope she doesn't expect me to do this again for her next year.

Creating Life... and then eating it. Part One

Let's face it. I've been married for 9 years in May. I've owned a home with a sizable back yard for 8. I have 3 children, a cat, a dog and a minivan. I make crafts and sell them at local markets for some extra pocket cash. I cook all our meals gluten free and from scratch.

It's about time I figured out how to grow a successful garden.

Funny how overwhelming it can be. But I'm trying. I've got all the goods ready to go, waiting for the snow to stop snowing and in the meantime, I've got all my seeds a-growing in my sunny, warm laundry room. Sow far, sow good. HA! (it's getting late. sorry)

I spent all morning transferring my 72 seedlings and half of Leslie's seedlings into larger pots. Leslie foolishly left her precious sprouts with me for the week while she went gallivanting around Disneyland. She told me to treat her plants like my plants, so when I started replanting mine, I started on hers too. Unfortunately, I realized about half way through that she labeled her tray differently than I did and therefore, her pots are marked wrong. Oops. Instead of a victory garden this year, she'll have a mystery garden. HA! (again, did i mention how tired i am?)

Come on, sweet basil, you can do it! Eat well and get lots of sun so that you can grow big and plump... so that I can eat you.

My favorite children in the ENTIRE world playing on what is LITERALLY the biggest pile of dirt that has ever sat in my driveway...

... on what is SINCERELY the most beautiful day that we have seen all year only to be followed by another AMAZING day tomorrow.

Anyone enjoy Thursday night TV as much as I do? Anyone think that Rob Lowe and Alec Baldwin are currently contributing more to society now than they ever have before? Yaaaaa.

Issue one! (speaking of TV... did anyone else's parents make them watch the McLaughlin Group every Saturday evening for their entire childhood? No? Yaaaaaa.) So, we have a big pile of dirt in our driveway. Fourteen cubic yards of dirt, if you want to be specific AND believe the man that dropped said dirt in my driveway this morning. We have a gaping pit in the back corner of our yard that needs to be filled with something other than children who have slipped and fallen and stray soccer balls that the children were chasing. That's where all the dirt comes in.

Issue two! It was nice out today. In the 60s. It was sort of snowing on Monday during Jane's first soccer game and now, 3 days later, my children are playing in a ginormous pile of dirt in sun dresses and without shoes. Gotta love Utah.

Issue three! It's the first day since last year that has been reasonably warm and Charlie has already decided that shirts and shoes are optional. I find this to be equal parts amusing and adorable, although I'm not sure why. When I was growing up, there was a family that lived behind and kiddie corner to us. They had almost all boys and their boys never seemed to wear shirts in this summer. Even as a youth, it bothered me. Enough to remember how much I disliked it all these years later. But for some reason, it's forgivable on Charlie.

Issue four! Can you say bath time?

Best Mail Ever

Late Friday night, Brent and I finished watching our Netflix movie and since I'm notorious for leaving them around the house for days, or worse, driving around with them in my car with the intention of dropping them off at the post office for days, Brent took matters into his own hands and took the dvd out to the mailbox. He came back in with the most amusing surprise.

Before he gave it to me, he told me that he had found the best mail ever for me in our mailbox. I love getting mail and the idea of receiving the best mail ever was intriguing to me. I was curious to know what it was. He said that he wasn't sure he wanted to give it to me because he was a afraid that I would actually open it. Then I was dying to know what it was. I think I ended up having to beg him to show me. And then he did.

I know that this can be a little hard to read, so allow me to clarify.

This is a letter from an inmate at the Salt Lake County Jail.

It is addressed to someone named Mizz Stringham.

It was sent to my old address and then forwarded to us around the corner.

Said inmate had taken painstaking efforts to decorate the envelope so as to make it as appealing as possible.

It worked. It was an appealing envelope.

I sat and held for a while contemplating whether or not I should open it. Brent told me not to because it would be pornographic, but I held it up to the light and it was just a letter that I couldn't read - even while holding it up to the light.

I started to romanticize some sort of story about the inmate and Mizz Stringham. How the idea of her was the only thing that kept him going from day to day in the joint. That she had given him reason to become a changed man. He had found his purpose in life through her and he would love her forever for giving him a chance when the world wouldn't. When he was finally released, the two of them would have each other and start a white trash life together somewhere. In my head, it was so very romantic, and somewhat lacking in teeth.

I had called my mom and my sister to tell them about it and along the way, someone mentioned that it was more likely some sort of con artist trying to sucker money out of a lonely woman. That wasn't romantic at all.

In the end, I couldn't do it. I couldn't open it. I have no idea if it will ever get back to our inmate, but I couldn't let him live his life in the Salt Lake County Jail thinking that Mizz Stringham had received his letter and was pining over him somewhere in Sandy. So I sent it back. But I'll have the memory forever. The memory of the best mail ever.