Passing the Torch

This beautiful lady is my mom. She was THE candy maker when I was growing up. Her skills were unmatched. I remember watching her for hours while she mixed & melted down her candies and carefully painted the candy into its mold. Her creations were absolutely breath taking. So much so that I always felt a little guilty to eat them. But only a little after all they were delicious too. I have such fond memories of her time as a candy maker. So much so that I decided to give it a try. If I have just but half of her natural talent then I should be fine. So I decided to ask my mom if she still owned her old candy molds. And to my utter joy she does. Or did. As of Sunday they are now mine (with the condition I return them should I decide I no longer want them). She had so many candy molds that she filled up a 35 gallon bin....to the top!

Why yes, those are Star Wars molds on the left.

I cant express the excitement I was filled with when I opened that lid. First thing I did was pull out every single mold and write down what it was. To my amazement it was full of holiday molds, ornate candy molds, animal molds, misc cute stuff and even some boob molds. Yes, that is correct. I can now make a lollipop of a woman's boobs. Hahaha. But the ones I am most excited over have to be the character molds. There are Pac Man, Spiderman, Muppets, Flintstones, Garfield, Yogi Bear, Scooby Doo, Care Bears, Rainbow Brite, Pink Panther, Cabbage Patch Kids, Smurfs and the awe inspiring Star Wars.

Now, I dont have any of the necessary tools for quality decorating. But I wasnt gonna let a little thing like that detour me from taking these molds out for a test run when I had some candies (pink and white) in the fridge. So I picked out two of the ornate candy molds and began mixing & melting my candy.

Once my candies were ready I dug out a pair of wooden chopsticks (from Panda Express) and pulled them apart. I used one for my pink candy and one for the white candy. I tried a tooth pick but that just wasn't working. Chopsticks & a spoon were my only candy working tools.

With that being said I think I did fairly well. I enjoyed standing there painting these molds with the chopsticks then filling them in with the spoon. I think given how they turned out on my first try ever and with no tools that maybe I could posses a little of my amazing moms talent. I will need lots of practice and the correct tools but I think I can pull this off. I'm so excited to keep trying.

Just starting out.

 Filing in the molds.

 The first mold is ready to be refrigerated.

Second Mold is ready too.




The finished products.

I hope to do my mom proud.

Interrupting Cow..

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Interrupting Cow.

Interrupting Cow.......

MOOOOOOO!!!

I sit here repeatedly having my thoughts interrupted by the love of my life who for someone has the desire to talk to me everytime I try to type. I love him to death so I'm gonna call it quits and try again tomorrow. When I have less of a distraction. Hahaha. I cant believe I actually said my three kiddos were less of a distraction than my husband. Thats all for tonight. We shall catch up over a cup of french vanilla coffee.

Peace out home fries.

Toooo Infinity And Beyond!!

To say that my son William (1 year old) is addicted to Toy Story would be an understatement. If I would let him he would sit on the couch all day holding his Toy Story toys while repeatedly watching the Toy Story movies. I'm not completely sure what it is about this series of movies that has enthralled him so deeply. Although my son Alex (4) and daughter Emma (3) are equally entranced when the movies are on. William is also the proud owner of a slew of Toy Story products.

 

Obviously we own the movies. We have seen all three although we still do not own the third one.

And then there is his 'Buzz' shirt that he loves to wear. 

You cant sport a 'Buzz' shirt without matching kicks.

Then there's the toy line.

William wearing his Jessie dolls hat on his head.

To top it all off he has a Toy Story bed too. My little 'Buzz' fan.

Were Building A Birdie House

Normally our crafty time is free in nature. I like to let the kids express themselves through their art. We have only one rule, there are no rules. For the longest time my son Alex has been asking to build a bird house and while I was at Michael's the other day I came across these:

I didn't notice I snapped a picture of the non English side.

They were only $1 so I thought they might be a fun little craft for the kiddos to do. They have an age recommendation of 5+ but other than helping my 3 & 4 year old assemble them they were more than competent to handle this craft.  

The kit came with everything you needed to build the bird house. Instructions, wood bird house pieces, sand paper, paint, glue & paintbrush. To keep the kids from painting my kitchen table I cut a piece of butcher paper as a work mat for each of them.

The first step was to sand all the pieces. They only partially followed this step as they are young ones and not too motivated to sand something without an obvious result. Second step was painting all the pieces. They were very excited to paint something besides paper.

Emma's a painting pro.

Alex has an interesting painting technique.

To keep the kids from mixing colors too much I gave them each a little bowl of water and a wash rag to clean their brushes on. We only had one spill during the whole project. That made mommy very happy. After all the pieces were painted to the kids satisfaction we allowed them a few minutes to dry. Once they were (mostly) dry we got them ready for gluing. 

Emma just painting away.

Alex was proud of his art.

Alex was frustrated that his roof kept falling off.

Emma gluing her last piece.

After all the gluing was done it was time to show off their bird houses.

Alex sure was proud of his bird house.

Emma's favorite thing is to paint so she was just beaming.

We set their finished projects outside to dry in the sun. These turned out to be two of the best dollars Ive spent in a long time. We had a blast doing our crafts and making memories. When Daddy came home from work the kids each got a turn to surprise him with their bird houses. Wonderful day!

Going for a Swim

Its no secret that I dont care for in ground pools. I find them to be too dangerous. Even a gated pool is dangerous while having a pool party. It only takes a second for a child to fall in.

With that said, we were invited to a pool party this past weekend. We told the kiddos they were not getting in the pool but since all the other kids were in or next to the pool that's where mine wanted to be. I told them they had to stay by the steps at the shallow end of the pool (just in case they fell in). I also told them to not be leaning over the side of pool and of course no running. I stood next to them and supervised them the entire time we were near the pool. And still, it happened.

That heart wrenching moment when my baby (William) feel into the swimming pool. I saw his little body floating on the water while his head stayed submerged. He was thrashing his little hands and feet so hard that he actually propelled himself away from the side of the pool. His body was moving in a violent struggle for air. I jumped into the pool after him. Grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him out of the water. As soon as his face broke through the water he began crying. Not that I have a boo-boo or someone took my toy cry. But that I'm scared out of my mind cry. I just stood there in the pool holding my baby. From the time he fell in until the time I pulled him out was probably only about 30 seconds but it felt like I was seeing it in slow motion and it lasted an eternity. I felt my heart stop beating in my chest. I was terrified.

Hearing him cry made me feel comforted because at least I knew he was breathing. He had instinctively held his breath while he was under water. He sneezed several times blowing out some pool water but nothing more. I felt very lucky to take my dripping baby home to get a warm shower and clean clothes. I felt lucky that I was standing next to the pool. Lucky that I was watching him and not looking elsewhere. Lucky that he held his breath. Lucky he was alive to cry.

I dont think that one can truly understand the depth of that fear unless you've also gone through it. I had a friend go through the exact same thing several weeks ago and while I was sympathetic I didn't know how exactly she'd felt. Now I do. It doesn't seem as scary when you just think of a child falling in and being rescued so quickly. You think they're fine. It was only for a minute. Its not that big of a deal. But then when you witness your child so full of fear its a completely different story. I dont think I will ever forget that image. It has been replaying in my head. Over and over. All the what ifs that could of happened. What if I wasnt there? What if I had looked away? What if he hadnt held his breath? What if he was farther away from me? But thanks to an amazing friend who kept talking when I didnt want to listen Im getting past that stage. I will never forget how it felt or what I saw but I will not let the what ifs take control of me. I have a perfectly healthy super happy amazing son. Whats not to feel lucky about?

What Concerns Me Is.....

Why do doctors think that they can use those words and then tell us there is nothing to worry about in the next sentence. Its instinct as a parent to worry, then you use those words and instantly your breath catches.

It started almost five years ago during my first pregnancy. I was told my ultra sound showed an obstruction and I needed to see a specialist. Welcome to a 'high risk pregnancy'. Words they should never speak to a pregnant woman who needs to stay calm. Especially a first time one. The specialist concluded there was a blockage at the base of the umbilical cord. The blockage prevented most of the nutrients from reaching the baby. So, to ensure the little bit he got was all nutrition that meant I could only eat or drink things to keep him healthy. I had a stricter diet than the average pregnancy. Still, I follow directions well and the baby was thriving. Then I get told I have gestational diabetes. Once again, requiring a change in my already strict diet. And of course there is the high blood pressure that kept me at the hospital a few times. After a quick, two weeks early delivery we get to see the blockage. It was the size of a baseball and we found out that it was more severe than they had thought through the constant monitoring and if he would have waited to be born on his due date he would of been a still born. Again, not something you tell a first time mom who was already scared. Then comes the blood sugar monitoring on your newborn and throw in a little jaundice for good measure. After a few days they let us leave the hospital but say we have to do the daily hospital trip to check his numbers. A couple days later we get the all clear. No admittance. Things are looking good. That is until that 3 month check up when the doctor says he hears a murmur. A murmur? What the heck is that and what does it mean? Ill tell you what that means. It means you have to take an immediate trip to another specialist where you have to help them hold your child down on a table with wires attached to them among other things while they run their test. Then you go into another room where for the second time in one day you hear that your child definitely has a murmur and needs to go to the hospital for further testing. Ill tell you I broke down at this point. Then at the hospital while trying to be strong you get told that your child has a hole in their heart. And then you get the classic but dont worry, its small and in a good spot. A good spot? Really? My child has a hole in his heart!! Then you go in for the follow up test a while later and you get told one hole is closing up nicely. One hole? How many holes in his heart does he have?? Two to be exact. Well, back to one since the other one closed up. Another follow up is in the works for my now healthy baby boy.

Here comes baby number two. You have gestational diabetes, wait no you dont, wait yes you do. Oh hell, they never could figure it out. Nasty bad Dr. Transferred to a new Dr one visit before having my baby girl. She was a good Dr. When it was time baby girl came out so fast and so hard that she was bruised from head nearly to toe. She was purple. Her blood vessels in her eyes burst during delivery as well. She had a dislocated shoulder that healed up great. And she too had jaundice. Many blood tests, an IV, and a trip to the nursery later we were finally released from the hospital with a clean bill of health. Baby girl was still purple and we had to continue to explain to people why our daughter was bruised up. We noticed the seizures the second day after we had come home leading us to another panicked Dr visit. Baby girl was sent to the hospital for testing. Results came back clean. The seizures eased up with the healing of her bruising. It was said that she was seizing as a complication from the bruising. Possibly some swelling in the brain that relieved itself. Shes my perfectly healthy smart baby girl now.

Newest baby boy comes along with an ideal and symptom free pregnancy. Thus raising the stress level of when the bad news will hit. Well first off, he was supposed to be a she. Haha. But I've already shared that story. We only got sent to the hospital once during the pregnancy. Due to his lack of fetal movement. He was fine though and after monitoring while sucking down some super sweet juice he started to wiggle again. After what baby girl went through I had to use all my constraint to make sure his birth was easier on him. He still came so quickly that the Dr barely caught him. But she did, only before she had a chance to get her 'splash guard' in place. What a mess! Hahadont want to. Then comes today. The Dr says its just a virus and let it run its course. Then she did it. She said those words, but what concerns me.... I heard the sound. The dun dun dun echoing through my ears. I could feel it in the pit of my gut. She said he may have asthma. That could be whats causing him to get sick so much worse than the other two kiddos. Why he stays sick longer and gets such bad coughs. Then she says the cliche, but dont worry. Haha. Ya right. I'm his mom. That's what we do! I grew up with asthma and so I know how to cope with it and what its like to have it first hand. But I dont want my child to have it. All in all baby boy is also strong & healthy.

I'm glad my stories are what they are. Everything is in the past (well, except the asthma part) and my kids are healthy. I know there are so many other things that could have happened over these past few years and am grateful for the health we have.

PERFECT

What does perfect mean?

Perfect: entirely without fault or defect.

There are many things that I would like to have perfect. On a serious note: a perfect welfare system, a perfect educational system, a perfect judicial system, etc. On a funner note: a perfect pumpkin to carve at Halloween, the perfect dress to make me look goooood, hell, the perfect figure, a warm bath thats the perfect temperature, a perfectly baked batch of cookies, a perfect hair day, a perfectly lite room, etc. But there are two things that I dont ever want to see perfect: you or me.

With that said, do you know a perfect person? If they have a significant other that person too is perfect in all ways. They're children are perfect. Thusly in part because they are perfect parents. They have perfect morals and perfect ideals. They have perfect motivation and perfect drive. They have a perfect outlook on life mostly because they have had the perfect amount of struggle in their life giving them perfect advice to give and the perfect answer to anyones questions. They were even raised by perfect parents themselves amplifying their current perfectness. They have perfect religious beliefs and perfect political opinions. They are just perfectly perfect! 

How then is it that I can no longer stomach having a conversation with perfection? Whenever one of these (usually self proclaimed) perfect people has an opinion I just want to throw something at them. Not that I feel everything they say or do is wrong but that its always dripping with their superiority over those that are by far nowhere near perfect. 

Rock on all my none perfect friends!!

Dishes

Dishes. Ugh. Just hearing the word irritates me. About how many times a day do the dishes in your house need to be washed? Who does them? And is there a dish washer involved? Does the chore get shared among others in your house hold or is it solely your responsibility? How many other people are dirtying those dishes besides yourself?

Heres my thing. I wash dishes at least three times a day (after each meal). Sometimes more if I'm baking, cooking for a holiday/party or a multitude of other reasons. I dont have a dish washer so I have to wash all my dishes by hand. Including the sippy cups which I despise. I clean up after all 5 of us. Even the smallest amount of dishes is a huge chore. Reason being.......Alex, Emma and William. Its like they go into this anti-washing mode anytime the faucet water turns on. As soon as I put my hands into the water and they're covered in soapy bubbles Emma needs more juice, William wants his shoes on, Alex needs me to look at his new play set, Emma wants a wipey, William needs a cracker, now Alex needs more juice, Emma's sock is twisted, Alex cant get his button fastened, William stole Emma's toy, Alex wants to know how to pronounce leaellynasaura (lee-ell-in-ah-saw-rah), Emma cant get her credit card back in her wallet, William wants 'up, up', Alex wants to know how to pronounce Jingshanosaurus (yin-shahn-oh-saw-rus), Emma wants a hug, Williams trying to eat out of the trash can, and Alex neeeeeeds to know how to say sinosauropteryx (sy-no-saw-op-tur-iks).

I do not exaggerate the situation. I have three kids that are 1, 2, and 4. They can be a handful. I haven't quite figured out the reasoning behind the dishes stressor. They can be completely engulfed in whatever toy they have or cartoon they are watching and then poof. I do dishes and they are practically climbing up my legs. I get to wash one maybe two dishes before one or more of them come running up to me. They keep me busy.

This was just a rant so no deep thoughts on this one.

Freight Train

Do you ever feel as though your barreling through life? You cant see. Its dark. Flashes of light keep you confused. The air stings your skin. Its stifling. You struggle for a breath. Filling your lungs with the scorching flames of failure. Depression seems eminent. Its coming for you in an all encompassing cloud of sadness and despair. This dreary feeling thats coming to consume you until there is nothing left. Its like a freight train screaming down the tracks. The number of cars keeps growing as it continues to pick up momentum. You feel as though you'll never escape it. The vortex its creating keeps pulling you under. You struggle to break free and then you get hit. Knocked down. By yet another disappointment. Another failure. When will it all end? Why you? You cant take much more!

Then the train begins to slow. All you can hear is the screeching of the brakes in your ears. The stench of smoke and grease fills your nostrils. Your stomach roils in fear of whats about to transpire. Then the fog clears. You open your soot filled eyes. Tears roll down your cheek. Taking with them the grime that has been your existence. Your body continues its violent purging of all things past. Your left curled on the ground. You place your palms on the cool surface below you. Running your fingers over each blade of glistening grass. The scent of freshly bloomed flowers dances over your senses. You open your eyes but after your dark journey its too much. Too soon. Your blinded by the bright rays of warmth beating down on your skin. A soft breeze wraps itself around you caressing you gently. You close your eyes tightly reaching out for something. Anything. To help you gain your balance as you try to stand. Your body is weak. Your muscles atrophied. You dont feel anything there. With one last lingering reach you grab something. It grabs you back. Frightened by this new feeling, one you cant yet comprehend, you let go. To your dismay your still rising. Being pulled to your feet. You feel the dirt being brushed away from your shoulders. That burden being released.  Dust swirls at your feet trying to cling on to all its known. Yet you stand firm. You are guided to a stream. The feel of the water rushing over your body is invigorating. You had thought you lost the ability to feel yet here you are. Your flesh pinkened in the chilly river water. Your fingers work vigorously to untangle your journey. You are elated at the cleansing effects of the river on your soul while you wash it all away. You emerge whole and complete.

You feel as though you've opened your eyes for the very first time. Seeing the world through a fresh perspective. You look around at this beautiful place. Full of life. Color. Love. Then you remember that feeling. The one that frightened you. You look around frantically for the hand that lifted you from the ground. Removed your burden and led you to the river. There is noone around. You follow the foot prints back to the spot where you laid a huddled mass. You thought you were alone but there were two sets of foot prints on the ground. So who was it that lifted you up? That was there for you when you thought you couldn't take anymore? Removing your burdens for you? Washing away your past? Allowing you a clean start?

We've all had that feeling. The one where you just cant understand why you would be put through so much. Why you cant get ahead. Why you keep getting pulled down. You feel like your gonna drown in a sea of your own emotions. You just want it to end. To find a way out. I just wanted to let you know, we've all been there.  We've all had a moment where we questioned our life. The choice is yours though. The choice on where to go from here. Are you going to reach out your hand even though you dont see anyone around?

I did.....

Feb 14th is Overrated

I'm married to one of those guys you've probably heard about that says valentines day is a man made commercialized holiday. He refuses to celebrate it in the traditional way (i.e. flowers, candy, romantic dinner, pretty much gifts of any kind). He refuses to be told that he has to 'prove' his love for me on a day that Hallmark made up. I really dont know exactly when or why this transformation took place. When we were younger he loved V-Day. He would get me roses, candy, balloons, teddy bears, cards, the whole shebang. Oh well, the why is not important. I understand his point and dont push the matter. I still believe in the love and magic of the day but thats not what this is about though.

I'm truly thankful for the love we share. 365 days a year for the last 15 years his behavior towards me has remained constant. He tells me all day everyday that he loves me. He gives me hugs and kisses at every opportunity. Those two small gestures alone are enough to make Valentines Day look like amateur hour to me. He's right in the fact that he doesn't need to 'prove' his love to me on this one day. He proves his love in the little things everyday.

Here's a small example. I got my hair cut last week and when I came home I told him what the stylist had told me about how to style it. I told him about the type of brush she used and the styling product she used with it. Within two days he came home with not one but two of that type of brush in different sizes to make sure he got the right one and the styling product. He listened to what I said and got what I needed to upkeep my style. It was incredibly sweet and I had no idea he was going to do that. I certainly hadn't asked him to. Another example is my new phone cover. I had gotten him one as part of his V-Day gift. I told him I saw the one I wanted. So what does he do? He comes home with it yesterday.

He does the sweetest things all the time. He lets me take a nap when I'm really tired from a night up with the wee ones. He watches my shows for me when I cant be home to watch them so he can tell me whats happening. He even calls me while I'm gone to tell me whats happening because its so exciting! Sometimes he will clean up the kitchen and/or do the dishes for me just because. There are literally too many things for me to list that show me how much he cares.

So when he came home this Valentines Day with a little gift for me I was ubber surprised. He had gotten me the chick flick that I wanted, The Bounty Hunter. As great as it was to get that acknowledgement it meant more that he put on the movie (at seven) and we watched it together. The time that he put it on was special too because he didn't want me to miss my show at 9. I didn't mind but he did. He wanted to make sure I had time to watch both. He's so thoughtful.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is that while my husband might not like being told to 'prove' his love on one day, he does it everyday. That makes me feel more loved and special than any V-Day celebration ever could. I dont feel jealous of the women that get that ONE grand gesture because I feel the love ALL YEAR LONG. Feb 14th is Overrated.

Snow Day

We finally did it!! We took the kids to the snow for the very first time. They were so excited that they could barely sleep the night before. Once we got up in the morning all they talked about was going to the snow. As I packed the last couple items I noticed Emma pacing at the door in anticipation. Alex had his hand on the knob and was opening & closing the door repeatedly. Their excitement only heightened as we got in the car and began our drive. Our climb up the mountain was a bluster of chatter and laughter. The car began to bounce in rhythm to the ever mounting excitement. The turns were coming quicker, the drop steeper. Then we heard it.....the 'splarph' of the mornings bananas and juice. We pulled over in the first turnout we could find. David rushed to Emma while I grappled with Alex. Both had simultaneously lost their breakfast from the curvy motion of the road. Once everyone and everything had been decontaminated we continued our advance towards that white plushy wonderland. But not before enjoying this breathtaking view.

The rest of our ascent was fairly uneventful. However, the air in the vehicle had changed. The exuberance had been replaced by the whines of upset tummy's and swirling heads. The protests of being held captive by those pesky seat belts were beginning to hinder our desire to continue on our journey. Then, as if a marshmallow had exploded  we began to see dirty mounds of our enchanted kingdom. The euphoria was once again mounting. It became evident that we had made the right decision in our perseverance up the mountain side. Before we knew it we were surrounded by a gleaming snow blanket nestled ever so delicately over the forest floor. We began our search for the perfect play area when we heard it, again, 'phlaft'. Emma's little hand was covering her quivering lip as she desperately tried to contain another round of motion sickness. David swooped her from the car and as soon as he was clear she let it fly. Our poor little girl who wanted nothing more than to play in the plush oasis of snow was miserable. After several minutes she had finally gotten it all out of her system. As a reward for being such a brave little warrior she was the first to get to touch snow. The boys sat in the car still held captive by their seat belts while Emma explored snow and another beautiful view.

Energized with a new spirit we pressed on in our search. Finally, we had found the perfect place. We bundled up the children and they were gone. There was no hint of guilt when they ran for the snow leaving us behind in the parking lot. We took that moment to inhale deeply and feel that same sense of awe that our babies were experiencing. Then we dove in, okay more like fell in. We tried to make a snowman but the kids were too excited to stay in one place so we called it a volcano and continued on to a snowball fight. We dug the start of a tunnel in a small mound of snow and had another snowball fight. The kids shoveled everywhere. Emma decided quickly that while she enjoys snow she doesn't do cold. William was having himself a jolly good time. At least until about the fortyish time he fell. Then he demanded to be toted everywhere. The only complaint Alex made was that he wasn't ready to come home. He is our snow angel. 

Another wonderful family fun day has come to an end.

"Grand"

Think back to when you were a kid. What do you remember? Do you remember spending the weekend with your grandparents? Watching Nascar races and John Wayne movies with your Grandpa? Eating wonderful creations that your Grandma made from scratch in the kitchen? Those are some of the things I remember about my Grandparents. Civil War reenactments, air shows, shopping trips, and comfort foods. Every time I see an old episode of Shirley Temple I think about my Grandma.

I have so many more fun memories about my Grandparents. I saw them every weekend and sometimes in between. We talked on the phone and even got cards in the mail. They are very special to me.

I have a few memories of my other Grandparents too. Just not as many. My Grandpa took us out to a canal near his house and we went fishing. We made our own ice cream too. I remember one time my Grandma said she was gonna put me in her suitcase and take me home with her. And watermelon. Can't forget the huge slices of watermelon we ate.

We made it out to visit them a few times and they used to visit us too. But that was a long time ago. That's about all I remember from when I was little. Most of the memories I have of them are from when I was older.

Its funny the things we remember and the things we forget. We have no control over it. Some things just stick with us for one reason or another. Which is what leads me to write this. I wonder what types of things my kids are gonna remember about their Grandparents? What memories are they gonna cherish? If any?

365 In A Flash

Have you ever thought about making a photographic journal?  I decided that I would give it a try. The idea is to take a photo a day for each of the 365 days in a year. I have to tell you, its much easier to do than I originally imagined. Mostly because I bust out my camera at the drop of a hat and click away. I find that the most difficult part is deciding which picture to use each day.

Another challenge for me is what to photograph. I have photos of my kids, other people & their kids, nature, toys, food, animals, etc. Some pictures I thought would be cute to include in future blogs and others were reflective of what we played with and/or did that day. I can't wait until we have more warm days than cold so there will be more fun things to do and experience. 

My main reason for accepting this challenge is my kids. Life goes by ever so quickly and there are so many everyday events that we let go by as insignificant.  Just because they are things we see and do everyday should not decrease there value. Take laundry for example. Not very exciting and its such a chore. Especially when Williams unfolding things faster than I can fold them. Emma wants to put each sock away one at a time. And Alex, well he just wants to play with the basket before its even empty. These memories don't really sound special right now. But wait until next week. When were remembering, William with a towel over his head spinning in circles and Emma with her daddies socks on as mittens, it becomes funny. Next year when Alex is no longer interested in playing with the basket it will become kinda sad. Therefore even these most mundane of tasks are opportunities for play, memories and you guessed it....photos!! 

So by taking such a boring task and turning it into a photo opt I hope I have inspired you to jump on this wagon with me. Even if its a picture of the cupcakes we made yesterday or of a building block creation we made last week it will still have a story behind it and therefore be a wonderful memory to share. 

Now go get your click on.

Bath Time

One of my favorite times of the day is bath time. I get one on one time with each one of my babies. Its a time to talk, share, laugh and play together. I get to watch their imaginations flourish as they play with their toys in new ways. One minute they're deep sea divers the next they're submarines. They swim with sharks and train the dolphins. Imaginations the limit. It's always fun watching them do things that I used to do as a child.

Alex likes to get as close to one side of the tub as possible then launch himself across the tub as fast as he can. Water careens over the edges of the tub cascading to the floor. Such good times.

Emma likes to swim in the bath. She practices floating on her back. Then she flips over and practices kicking her legs. She kicks water all over me too. She thinks its funny to put her bath bubbles on me too.

My little guy William is fascinated by dripping water. He just loves to splash the water around the tub. He laughs so hard when he throws his wash rag into the water and it splashes him back. His laughter always makes me laugh.

Bath time is truly special to me.

A Wonderful Sick Day

Yesterday was not a good day but it could of been much worse. I woke up with a slight headache but chose to ignore it. Big mistake. Within an hour my slight headache turned into a full on migraine. Migraines are kinda incapacitating for me. Head pain turns to blurred vision which leads to nausea and then there ya go. I'm sick on several levels. I can't handle light or sound. Can't move without getting sick. Overall, not fun. And to top it off I had my three kids for the next 8 hours before Daddy would be home to help.

The wonderful part of this story comes first from the kids. Alex and Emma came up to me and gave me hugs because I didn't feel good. They caressed my cheeks and told me they loved me. I told them that they had to be very good for me. Alex wrangled his brother and sister up and took them to his bedroom and closed the door. He tried to keep the kids in his room all morning. It was the sweetest thing he could of done for me. After spending most of the morning being sick in the bathroom I managed to get myself into the kitchen. Afterall, the kids had to eat lunch. The walk to the kitchen made the sink my new get sick locale. I was able to throw together some grilled cheese sandwiches and some snacks from the pantry. As they sat at the table eating their lunches I got Williams bed ready and Emma a pull up. I sat it on the couch and told Emma that when she was all done eating she needed to put it on and take a nap. She did it so sweetly with no fight. Just got up, changed, gave me a kiss and went to bed. She was so good about it which never happens. Then Alex cleared his and his sisters plates and played quietly so I could take a nap on the couch. When I woke up him and his sister were playing in their room with the door closed. I was feeling less queasy and my headache was less severe again.

The other wonderful part of this story comes from David. Since I no longer felt the urge to die everytime I moved I decided I could make dinner so I set out something simple to make when David got home. But, he didn't think that I should cook at all. So after coming home and checking on me he ran to the store. He bought me some chowder and wheat thins. Then got him and the kids drive thru. He got the kids plates all ready when he got home and then made my chowder for me. After dinner he washed all the dishes and cleaned the kids room. He let me sit down all night and relax.

I had a wonderful sick day. I was surrounded by the love and support of my three babies and great husband. I couldn't have asked for a better day.

The Importance of Living

Eventually there comes a day in everyones life where we look back on what we've done, where we've been and whose lives we touched. It's the inevitable moment of change not only in our lives but in our hearts and mind sets as well. My moment of change came after I was forced into loosing someone who should not have been lost. She was a sweet beautiful woman who was barely starting her family and life. She was too young to go and left behind a precious gift of a little girl. This little girl was only three months old. She will never know her mother. Never hear her voice.

That moment and realization hit me harder than I expected. It made me really look at myself and gave me a renewed sense of life. I began to think about what I had accomplished. What I still wanted to do. So I made a list. I made a 'Life List' as I like to call it. This list was designed to keep my life full of new and exciting adventures. To keep me living life to the fullest. How many of us are really living? We go through the motions of life but aren't living it. Too bogged down by the day to day stuff to realize that while we have to do those things they aren't the important meaningful things we want or need to do.

I highly recommend that everyone make a list. Include anything and everything you've ever wanted to try or do. Then write a second list of things you have to do in order to accomplish those written on the first list. And so on. You should include things from different categories in life. For example, my list includes health goals, travels, charity and quality time with friends and family to name a few. Cross off the goals you've achieved and continue adding new ones.

You'll probably be surprised at just how much more fun you find yourself having. Get your friends and family involved too. You may find you have more in common than you previously thought and you can accomplish your goals together.

Along this journey I also found myself tackling my own mortality. I have three beautiful young children. That gave me another perspective to include in my list. Things I want to accomplish for them. To prepare for their futures. Things like letters to them from their mommy, a will, portraits, etc.

This list has helped to shape my life. To guide me in my day to day decisions. And to prepare me for things to come. I hope that you live your life to its fullest! Good luck and God Bless.

You can check out my list here: My 'Life List'

Thank You For This Day

I've had the most amazing day! Alex, Emma, William....you are truly amazing and I feel so blessed to have the three of you in my life. We laughed, we played and we had ourselves yet another wondrous day. You are such a delight to play with. So eager to soak up every ounce of knowledge laid before you. You're impressed no matter what I do. Yet, I too find myself impressed with each one of you. You're beautiful, smart, loving children. You bring out the best in me and each other. Makes me see the world through new eyes. Everything is fresh and exciting.  

William you always know how to bring a smile to my face. With your silly facial expressions and the way you light up when you learn something new.

Emma your a little ray of sunshine. Always brightening the room with your joy and laughter. You've got the sweetest little singing voice I've ever heard.

Alex you fill me with love with your gentle heart. Always ready to give and share. You are the sweetest little guy and always know just what to say.

Thank you for always helping me to focus on whats important in life. Thank you for this day.

What You're Made Of

Earlier tonight I heard someone say 'Its about what your made of on the inside'. That really struck me. Not that I haven't heard that expression on numerous occasions. But to truly take it in and analyze it was not something I've really done. We're all familiar with cliches that we throw out everytime we or someone we know goes through a hard time. But do we ever stop to truly listen to them? To not only hear the words but to feel them?

Forest Gump's Mama seemed to at least have a similar metaphor when she told him 'life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what your gonna get'. Although these are two different quotes they seem to correlate within my mind. One telling us how much our life is unknown to us. The other professing significance not on the unknown but on the manner in which we conduct ourselves through it.

We are all placed into situations that we aren't prepared for. Situations where maybe there seems no right or wrong answer. Where the only distinction is in how we react to it. There are many ways to handle a crack in ones path. Do you carefully walk around it? Jump straight over it? Or do you simply stop and turn around?

First and foremost, its an emotional reaction. I've let my emotions get the best of me on numerous accounts and have no one to blame but myself. I haven't always been a glass half full kind of woman either but that's about to change. I'm striving to be the best me that I can be.



You want to know what I'm made of? I'm made of strength, integrity, perseverance, loyalty, passion, harmony, and gratification. Now, whats inside you?

All Things Pink...

Despite my efforts my house is full of pink. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate pink. I just think that all too often the color is forced upon our lil girls. After all, everyone knows that the girl aisles in any store are pink. For this reason alone I tried to steer clear of the ominous stereotypical color. I didn't want my daughter to be force fed the color until she choked on it. It needed to be a conscious decision by her. And it was. My now almost three year old loves the color.

We go to her closet in the morning to get dressed and the only shirts she picks out to wear are PINK. Since she's my little shopping buddy I took her shopping last week to buy some new shoes. She had all the cutest shoes to pick from. She picked these.....

I have to admit that I am proud they're not completely pink. However, what they lack in overly girlish colors they make up for in sparklys. You may not be able to tell from the picture but these shoes are covered in glittery sparkles. So if you touch them you too have the pleasure of being glittered.

Now as I plan for my little Miss Emma Bear's third birthday party we are once again being thrown into the deep end of the pink pool. I asked her what kind of party she wanted to have. Told her it could be whatever kind of party she wanted. She looked up at me with her big brown eyes, blinked once as if to say 'you have to ask?'. Then simply stated 'pink'. As matter of factly as the sun will rise and the sun will set.

As I continue swimming in a sea of pink clothes, hair ties, blankets and toys I can only hope to bring balance back to the color wheel.

Laying the Foundation

Lets cut straight to the point. I've never blogged a day before in my life. Even the word 'blog' sends a little chill down my spine. I feel that because of the word I should be writing some epic life altering novel. If that's what you thought I was gonna do then I'll save you the frustration of reading my full page of ramblings and send you on your way. No hard feelings, really. I'm inspired to do this vigilantly as a form of life journaling. So when the day comes that my body no longer hungers for the breath of life that my story may live on. In my own words. 

My story is simple and not very interesting. Though true is the same of any great novel. First one must lay the foundation for which the rest of the story may stand. This is where my story begins....

.....as a full time stay at home mommy of three exuberant children. 

My oldest son, Alex, recently turned four. He is the typical boy. Loves to play with his dart guns. He tells me almost daily that its 'Nerf or Nothin!!' He's also a huge Star Wars fan (due in part to his dads obsession) and never goes anywhere without his light-saber. He has an imaginary t-rex dinosaur named Kevin-Kell. Still trying to figure out how he came up with that name. Kevin-Kell came to join the family after watching the Jurassic Park trilogy one too many times. Needless to say he loves him some dinosaurs. 

My daughter, Emma, is two and a half. She's the perfect combination of girly girl and tom boy. She will jump in the mud as quick as anyone but she has to do it in her totally rockin sparkly pink shoes. She's a fighter. Full of spunk and teenage drama already. Then there's her nurturing side. Always first in line to do chores or just help out. She's my shopping buddy, my little 'Princess Pie'.

My youngest son, William, is one. He was supposed to be a girl but that's a whole nother blog. He loves to dance and recently started doing a ballerina twirl. He throws his arms up in the air, locking his hands together and just spins. He's a great cuddler and none stop hugger. This boy can eat too. He's got this sock monkey that smells like a combination of juice and baby drool that he carries everywhere. He sleeps with it, chews on it, throws and tackles it. Its his 'Monkey' and he loves it.

Only a small description to lay the foundation on this journey we call life. 

Tune in next time.