October 28, 2010

My Personal Redecorater

I'm going to write a book.

"The life and times of Destructo-Layna."

 "Condemned by her deeds,  exonerated by her cuteness, Alayna shows the toddler world the art of driving their mother insane."

I'm thinking best seller for sure!

And can you believe she actually got mad at me for taking away her marker? Mad at me!

The nerve.

I couldn't stand to take a picture of the floor, it was too devastating.

So... anyone feel up to babysitting?

October 27, 2010

It's not a baby! It's a...

Gummy bear!

Okay, see? No more twin jokes allowed. There is just one solitary, single little gummy bear inside the oven. Although, hubby was kind of disappointed. He wanted twins. 

Yesterday, I was declared exactly nine weeks along with my due date being May 31, 2011.

And Brenick, I promise I was not ignoring your question from last week. My track record for weight gain with my pregnancies so far has been between 25 and 37 pounds.

And here is a belly picture, just for you. 

Although, that little pointy pooch you're seeing is just my belly flub sticking up over my maternity jeans.

Because let's face it, maternity pants are just more comfortable right now.


Okay now, funniest story ever.

Last night was mutual. (a mid-week activity for the youth of our church, and I am a leader in Young Women's, specifically over the 12-13 year old girls)

We were decorating pumpkins with these girls. While they were doing that, I was telling the other two leaders present about my doctor's appointment and how when I stepped on the scale to be weighed, I jokingly asked the nurse if she would take a pound off since I was still wearing my boots. (it's negative cold below freezing right now)

Upon hearing my story, a super cute little 13 year old pipes up and says, "My mom always says that you should only be worried about what you look like on the inside, I mean that you should only care about being pretty on the inside, no matter how ugly you are on the outside."

*crickets chirping... silence... eruption in laughter*

We knew exactly what she meant, but it was the way it came out that was so hilarious. 

Although admittedly, I don't think I'll be adding that as a motto to my bathroom mirror anytime soon.

October 25, 2010

Sometimes 'Thank You' just doesn't seem sufficiant

image from google

Yesterday at church, the lesson given in Young Womens was on Gratitude and Appreciation. It was to teach the girls the importance of expressing thanks to those around us.

I have been thinking on this lesson and can't shake the desire to mention a few experiences for which I will be forever grateful. I don't think some people realize the impact they have on others when they put forth an effort, whether big or small, to offer an act of kindness.


One year, while we were in school with two kids and one on the way, a basket was left on our doorstep around Christmas. I remember just staring at it. I didn't know many established families in the area and my family was clear across the country back in Florida. It contained presents for the kids, I mean, nice presents, chocolate, not the cheap kind, and a $50 gift card.

As starving students, $50 was huge! I mean, huge! Well, it still is I guess. But that was the year we had bought all of our kids presents from the dollar store.

To this day, I have no idea who left it. But every Christmas I think about that basket and the sacrifice it represented for someone else, and breathe a word of thanks to whoever that incredibly thoughtful person was.


I have a friend, Maria. We've never met in person, we've never even talked on the phone. We have only ever communicated though emails. But I have received box, after box of clothes from her for my kids that hers have outgrown. They are always so nice and often still have tags on them. She has also sent books and other presents for us.

I think my favorite thing, that I still smile at, was the half empty package of pull-ups she sent in one box. I loved it! We go through pull-ups like crazy around here since one of my boys still wets every single night. And I just love that she knew me enough to not be embarrassed to send such a wonderful thing!

I haven't had to buy my boys clothes in over a year because of her. I can't even begin to imagine how much money that has saved us. How does one say thank you to that?


And just two weeks ago, right after I announced I was pregnant and feeling really lousy, I was suppose to watch my friend Gina's kids for a couple hours.

Instead, she called me up that day and declared that she was going to come pick up my kids and allow me a couple hours of rest. She came at 10am and left with my three youngest kids. I didn't see them again until 3pm! I cannot tell you of a time when anyone outside of family, have taken my children voluntarily for that long.

If that wasn't enough, when she brought them back, she also brought along dinner for my family.


I don't think I had told her how smells have really assaulted my senses this pregnancy, something new for me, and that cooking is so, so difficult as I tend to gag because of the smells, or how standing makes my daily headaches worse.

But there she was, food in hand when she has four young kids of her own to take care of.


I could go on and on. But these three instances just kind of stuck out to me as I listened to the lesson. I know just saying thank you seems like such a weak thing when these stories represent such a big impact for me.

But I hope they know, and anyone else who has every gone out of their way to lend me hand, how much I appreciate them and their efforts.

If you feel so inclined to accept a challenge, write up a story or two about a time when someone really touched your life and link it up here. It will be fun to read through them!

October 22, 2010

From the mouth of babes?

Sometimes I hear stories about older siblings "predicting" or talking about their unborn siblings where often, they get the gender of the baby correct! And the mothers proudly talk about about how amazing it is that they could tell before anyone knew or before she even realized she was expecting!

So tell me, dear readers, what do you make of this.

Two days ago:

Four year old Joseph approached me while I was dying on the couch.

Mommy? Doth da baby in your tummy mae you thick? (with his lisp, that last word is suppose to be "sick", but either way, he's correct!) 

Yes, it does.

What awre you doe-ing to name her?

Name 'her'?

Yeth! I think we should name her, ummm.... Hearths!

Hearts huh? Well, that a.......... nice name.

Yea, but I think you should name her... Pasta!

Pasta! That's a silly name! Besides, what makes you think it's a girl?

Umm, she'th not a dirl, she'th a boy! I mean, he'th a boy!

So, am I having a boy or a girl?

Umm, a boy!


Joseph again approaches me while on the couch. 

Hey mom! How'th Pasta doing today? Is she dood?


Yea! Da baby!

I thought you said I was having a boy?

You are!



And can I just throw out there that this little girl has more speed and stealth than all three of her siblings combined?

She has no idea how lucky she is that she is just so stinking cute!

Her life depends on it.

That, my friends, is make-up. Notice her legs? By the time she figures out it's suppose to go on her face, she out to be a whiz!

October 20, 2010

And behold, my blog doth stinketh

And it came to pass that in her 27th year, Serene was with child. And behold, she was so sick that her children ran a muck, causing all forms of disasters and contentions, yea even destruction in all manner of ways.

And in that same year, her brain did cease to function, and all manner of creativity was lost.

So great was the loss thereof, that behold, her blog doth stinketh.


So, my brother stopped by yesterday. While we were standing in the kitchen he suddenly exclaims, "Whoa! You weren't kidding about getting a belly already!"

See? See? It's not just my imagination! That is proof right there people! Proof! At 7-8 weeks pregnant, I really am showing.


This also proves what a sweet, loving, and sensitive family I have. :D

October 18, 2010

Heaven Help Me

She has figured out how to climb out of her crib.

She just hasn't quite figured out what to do from here.

October 14, 2010

The truth about my pregnancies

I admit, I was kind of surprised at the amount of people who suspected something was up based on my blogging.

Blast, I didn't realize I was so transparent!

And to all you lovely ladies who admitted to not getting sick when pregnant, I now have all your profile pictures hanging on my wall.

For dart practice.

Okay, not really, but just know how very jealous I am of you. So very, very jealous.

The couch and I are now best friends.

But to answer a few of your questions.

I actually don't throw up very often, maybe once or twice a week, although there have been times when it is more. I am cursed with a constant nausea. You know, the kind that sits in the base of your throat so you feel like at any given moment, you'll need to race to the porcelain throne? Yea, that remains constant for me. Never a break from it, even after I actually do throw up.

It even gets me when I sleep. I'll be lost in sweet oblivion until I move or shift positions, then waves of nausea usually wake me up.

I also get headaches almost everyday. It just comes with the territory for me. Insomnia will also find me in a couple months.

Now, with my first baby, this was how I felt for the whole nine months solid. If anything, it got worse after my first trimester. But I was working and in school so I didn't have time to feel sorry for myself.

And it was the trend with my second and started out that way with my third. It was then I began to notice a pattern.

Wheat, dairy and plain water tend to make me excessively nauseous! So I discovered that if I try to avoid them, then after the first four months or so, I tend to be sick only in the mornings, feeling fine the rest of the day.

And I'm pretty sure I've tried ever trick in the book to help with the nausea.

Ginger ale, ginger capsules, vitamin b6, black licorice, peppermint herb tea, raspberry leaf tea, and sucking on mints all day are just a few of the things I've tried. I've never noticed any significant change upon use, although some do help take the edge off for a little while. Still, I'm always open to more suggestions.

Oh, and I hate the whole, weight gain thing. I'll admit, I'm vain like that.

So why the heck do I keep getting pregnant?

Come on now, need I say more?

Except that once again, I would like to state for the record that...

I voted for the stork.

October 12, 2010

It just goes to show...

...they have no clue what they're talking about.

Situation: Savannah comes home from piano lessons, sobbing. She was upset that she had struggled with a song that she attempted for the first time.

*sobbing* "I'm just can't do it! I'm just no good at it!! I wish I were big because then I would be married and wouldn't have problems!" 

I struggled not to pop her little wonder-bubble in regards to that comment.

Instead I gave her a pep-talk.

Didn't make a dent.

Girl's are so dramatic.

So I asked her why being big and being married would solve all her troubles.

"Because then I wouldn't have to take piano lessons!"


Innocence is bliss I suppose.

A few minutes later.

Me: "Why don't you just go finish up your dinner?"

Savannah breaks down into tears again.

"I don't want to! I wish I were big because then I could eat whatever I want!!"

She obviously doesn't understand anything about puberty and aging metabolisms either.

Ignorance is bliss I suppose.

P.S. If you missed my little escapade with my exploding casserole dish, or if you just need to laugh at me again, you can read all about my special homemaking skills over at MMB today!

October 11, 2010

Cat's out of the Bag!

Well, first, I almost threw up in someone's car.

And then I was caught eating crackers during church.

I had this grand plan to keep it all a secret until the week before Thanksgiving, which is when my brother gets married, and just let everyone stare and try to gather up the courage to ask, or to sit and wonder if I've just been eating too many cookies.

But my husband says I don't hold my morning sickness very well and everyone's going to know by then anyway.

I'm honestly waiting to die from nausea and headaches any moment now.

So I finally confessed to my mom. And there's just no turning back from that.

Oh, and I swear, I'm showing already. My husband doesn't think so, he thinks I've gone totally bonkers, but clothes never lie.

Now, it's not like I've forgotten how sick I get, but I've totally forgotten just how sick I get.

Know what I mean?

The couch, the bathroom and I are becoming fast friends and my kids will learn what the true meaning of torture is after several months of living on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Anyhow, here you go, proof and all that.

We're guessing about six or so weeks along now. Still pretty early but I've been feeling nauseous for a while now, and it finally hit full force about three days ago.

And if you're one of those people who don't get sick, or can't tell they're pregnant so it's a total surprise when they finally find out?

We can't be friends. Like, ever.

Okay fine, we can still be friends. But just know that I might growl at you from time to time.

Anyhow, we really are super excited. We'll just have to see if my family can survive me over the next few months.

*insert perfect angel smile, with a growl*

October 8, 2010

You'd think I'd have learned by now...

...that mopping the floor BEFORE dinner, is useless, wasteful, and totally counter-productive.

I hate when I forget my own rules.

October 7, 2010

Lightbulb Toes

One of my least favorite features about myself are my toes.

Not that I know of anyone who particularly loves their toes. I've never heard anyone sigh dreamily and whisper, "Oh how I love my toes".

And If I did, I'd be really, really worried about them.

Still, we've all seen our fair share and know that some toes are nicer than others.

*shrug* It's just the way it is.

Aside from the fact that I inherited my father's shapely toes, which he affectionately refers to as "light bulbs", I also inherited my mom's tendency towards length. I was tempted to dish on what my 5'2" mother's shoe size is, but decided to respect her right to some privacy since I am five inches taller and wear only one size larger than her. (course, if you've been reading my blog long enough, you'd know my shoes size and could do the math accordingly... I would hope)

But the thing that bugs me the most about them, is they seem to stick out just enough to cause me excruciating pain.

If I had a quarter for every time my husband has stepped on them, or rammed into them with his big ole' honkin' work boots, we'd have the basement finished by now. He's broken more toe nails than I can recall and hang it all, I HATE when I break a toenail.


Yes, I really do growl.

The other thing that tends to happen, is that my pinky toe gets caught on, and jammed into corners, doors, and just about anything that is capable of making me suffer. I'm amazed I haven't broken one off by now.

But such is life, right? So I go along my merry way, waiting tentatively until the next broken toenail.

But my peaceful existence has become shattered lately, as I've been feeling rather ganged up on. Not only is my husband stepping on my extra-long toes, but now, so are my kids!

In their blasted shoes no less!

Come on, cut me some slack here kiddos! My toes deserve better treatment than this. They deserve to be pampered, massaged, and caressed!

Not that they've ever received such care.

My husband has only ever massaged my feet twice.

And once, he made me put HIS clean socks on first.


But no, they get trampled and squished, beaten to a pulp.

How do you think they must be feeling right about now? Huh? Huh!?

That right, feel guilty. Feel very, very guilty.

October 5, 2010


Once upon a time, there was a scientist who questioned why some people tend to grey faster than others.
(probably wondering why his wife spent so much money on hair dye)

And why some people tend to age more gracefully with their wrinkles than others. 
(perhaps the six bottles of anti-aging cream on his wife's side of the bathroom counter made him curious)

So he first set about doing research on women's hormones, since they appear to be in some sort of drastic over-haul every couple of hours. 
(pish, and what would he know about that!)

He ran hair samples and skin cells, and all manner of curious tests. 
(he would have done well to get an MRI on himself)

But he could have just saved himself the trouble. 
(we women could have saved him loads of time if he had simply asked us! But maybe that falls under the rules of not asking for directions)

All he had to do was to look at home life to understand.

(I mean, running out of chocolate would be stressful for anyone! I know it has sure given me wrinkles!

Oh, and so would my boys standing on the baby bikes while the bikes are on top of the trampoline. Because the bikes would surely keep slipping to the edge.

Not that they would ever actually do that! Because if the did, I would surely end up looking like a three year old potato... after I took pictures of it of course.)

And it would have all made perfect sense.

The end.

October 4, 2010

Think long term... think long term...

My old seminary scriptures

I have vivid memories from my childhood of my parents waking up all of us kids to have family scripture study at 5am.

I'm not sure if the 5am time was so we could have it before my dad needed to head off to work, or if it was because they wanted to teach us good early morning habits, or if it was simply that my parents enjoyed torturing us.

Whatever the case may be, I admit, it was not my favorite experience.

Then I turned fourteen and started attending seminary. Early morning seminary to be exact, which started at 5:50am.  (seminary is a religion class that high school students of our faith attend for those four years)

Fast forward to today.

Here I am, a mother of four young children, doing my best to teach my children good values and principles, and the importance of prayer and scripture study.

And that catching bugs to put into the refrigerator may not be the best of ideas.

While we do have family prayer every single night with our children, reading the scriptures together is pretty hit and miss, stop and go, up and down.

And it is usually far from reverent.  Screaming, fighting, wiggling, squirming, and any other word that can be used to describe young children and their ability to hold still, could all be applied to our experiences.

I could probably sell circus tickets.

And popcorn.

But after watching General Conference this weekend, my husband decided we should start having family scripture study in the morning instead of at night in an effort to be more consistent.

At first, I was a bit hesitant. Okay, let's be honest, what mother WANTS to wake their kids up early?

Besides my own mother of course.

And what about the off chance that they actually sleep in, who wants to mess with that?

But truth be told, by 7:15am, my kids are usually up anyway, so I agreed.

This morning, was our first attempt.

And you know what? It was amazing!

There wasn't a dadgum smidgen of difference in the kid's attitude or behavior. They still wiggled and squirmed and fought and whined.

Anyone care to purchase a circus ticket?

I'll throw in the popcorn for free.

And it wasn't five minutes after we finished family prayer, and Luke went off to work that the boys were fist fighting over an apple.

An apple!? I mean come on, it should have at least been a cookie! An apple isn't worth the effort.

The screaming that ensued was incredible. I'm finally seeing my father's wisdom in his wearing industrial ear muffs to block out the noise of eight loud children.

I'm serious, he really did. I'll show you a picture sometime.

I understand the long-term benefits of our efforts. But hang it all, it would sure be nice if they would suddenly turn into sweet little angels.

What? A girl can dream!

*Update: We have discovered that reading together at the kitchen table instead of in the living room, really cuts down on the wiggles!

October 1, 2010


Friday is library day.

I love Fridays.

For strictly educational purposes of course.

Eh hem... now, if you'll excuse me, I have some very, very important business to attend to.

Which does not include eating chocolate chip cookies.

Err... *cough*, really!
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