It's Not Mother's Day Anymore

There are several reasons why I am acutely aware that it is NOT Mother's Day anymore. Let me highlight a few...

1. Keith and Cole got up an hour earlier than usual.

2. I changed 7 diapers (5 of which were poopy) before morning snack time. (Unless I'm running a daycare, that seems like an unfair statistic.)

3. I found my toothbrush buried in a pile of whiskers dumped out of Brent's electric razor.

4. I later found my toothbrush being used to "clean" our office chair.

5. I cleaned up a mountain of spilled rice and a broken bowl off the kitchen floor.

6. I cleaned half a tube of trial-size toothpaste out of the carpet and off Ally's face.

7. I didn't get a run in this morning. (That is never a good start to my day.)

8. Ally refused to take a morning nap.

9. I have innumerable loads of laundry calling my name. I'm obviously still ignoring them.

10. My bedroom floor currently looks like this. The fact that I have been avoiding the task of crawling into the attic to return the Easter stuff caught up with me today when Cole discovered it so neatly tucked away in a corner of my room. He did ask before getting all of it out and I didn't have the strength to say 'no'. I guess now I just need the strength to clean it up...

(That's Keith in the picture.)

11. It's 1:16 in the afternoon and I haven't showered or brushed my teeth. (For obvious reasons, I might be forgoing the brushing teeth thing until I can round up a clean toothbrush or get to the store. The boys' latest obsession with "brushing" their teeth has depleted my once well-stocked toothbrush supply.)

I am in mourning. Perhaps because yesterday was such a perfect day, the typical chaos of today seems out of place when in fact, the chaos is exactly where it should be and always is: right here. Since the kids are too small to really recognize Mother's Day, the onus was upon Brent to make it special and he delivered on all accounts. I slept in, took my time getting ready for church (which meant my hair was washed and I did get to brush my teeth), ate a delicious breakfast, got a 2 1/2 hour nap (I know, pure indulgence), ate a mouth-watering BBQ meal, watched a movie and snuggled with the boys while Brent cleaned up and then I sat and read a pile of magazines: Competitor, Crate and Barrel, and Real Simple. The day could not have been more perfect.
If only every day was Mother's Day. Well, I'm just holding out for another 364 more days. Let the countdown begin.

The world as we know it

Yesterday while digging for worms in the backyard, Keith mentioned that the worms probably needed to eat. I told him that worms ate the dirt. He laughed at me and said, "No...worms don't eat dirt! They eat chocolate milk." How did I not know that?






















While watching General Conference last Sunday (for more information, go to http://www.lds.org/conference/languages/0,6353,310-1,00.html ) Cole said, "I don't want to watch the Church movie. The Church movie is boring." Awesome. We're already instilling such strong religious respect in our young children.



























Ally's latest news is that she has some sort of allergy to gluten, wheat or grains in general--we're not quite sure. Since we've cut all grains from her diet, her cheeks, chin and neck have cleared up significantly. Poor girl. How will any girl survive life without carbs? Hopefully she will grow out of it.

















G and G Smart visited last week for Spring Break. They spoiled everyone as usual. We had a blast at the Zoo (including a ride on the choo-choo train) and just plain hanging out.






BTW: Several people in public mention how much Ally looks like her Grandma. Seriously, when the 3 of us are anywhere, someone ALWAYS comments on how much Ally looks like my mom. I'm beginning to agree with them.

Behind Every Successful Mom is...

1. A Really Great Husband
I don't post my feelings about Brent because I'm not a good enough writer to sound anything more than corny. But seriously, Brent is the best guy. (See what I mean?) So, anyway, a few weeks ago I got a wicked flu and didn't even roll over Monday morning until 9 am. He had already taken the day off, dressed and fed all the kids and was playing with them by the time I stumbled downstairs. He took them to the park and continued double-duty parenting until I recovered Tuesday morning.





















2. An Amazing Mom


My mom came to my rescue for the countless time again to help with the nasty illness plaguing our family. She chased the boys, fed Ally (which is no small task these days), did laundry, cleaned my kitchen and managed to spoil everyone rotten with a few shopping splurges.







3. An In-tune Mother-in-Law


Ellen is the perfect mother-in-law. She just rolls with anything and I couldn't feel more comfortable when she is at our house. She is basically the exact opposite of Marie from Everybody Loves Raymond, (if you ever watched that show--one of my favorites.)
She just digs in and helps out when she's here. Just like my own mom, she helps do the laundry, clean and most importantly is excellent with the grandkids.




4. A Debbie



Debbie is an angel posing as one of us "regular" people on earth--seriously. She is not related (at least not yet--her daughter is marrying Brent's little brother later this summer which is so cool I can hardly stand it, more on that another day), yet she is always showing up at my doorstep to pitch in. She watches the kids so I can go for a run or run errands, she calls from Costco to see if I need anything, she folds laundry (it's never done), vacuums, etc. Trust me, there is ALWAYS stuff to do around here. And she seems to always sense when I need some help. Keep in mind she works full time, still has children at home and is the Bishop's wife. I know, amazing, huh?

So, whenever strangers in public ask me, "Wow, You must be busy. How do you do it?" or "Wow, are they all yours? How do you manage?" I take little credit because I have A LOT of help and I couldn't do it without any of the aforementioned helpers. So, if by chance you ever come to my house and it looks remotely clean, or if you see me out and about and I even resemble looking "put-together", you can bet that one of these 4 people has been involved. Otherwise, if you see my usual baseball-capped, greasy head, non-showered-self and my laundry is piled high, my carpets are dirty, my bathrooms are smudgy, and my kitchen is stinky, you'll know that it's just me, myself and I taking it one day at a time.

Animal Haters Unite

OK. So, I'm not really an animal "hater" but what I really do hate is people who treat their pets like people. You know who I'm talking about. Those who dress their cats in Christmas sweaters and carry their dogs in their purses.
Well, I had a run-in (literally) with just that type yesterday.

I was out for a run when a woman and her two dogs were stopped on the path ahead of me. The dogs were taking care of business. As I ran by, the German Shepherd lunged at me and bit a chunk out of the back of my upper left leg. No joke.

First, I was shocked and then I was really scared and then the pain hit. I've been running for years and I've never had a dog bite me!
While I gripped the back of my leg in horror, the woman just stood there and proceeded to deny that her dog actually bit me. "He must have just given you a little 'love nip'", she insisted. "He wouldn't bite anybody. He's just a puppy. You must be mistaken, he just didn't bite you." Well, canine punctures in my upper thigh showed her otherwise. (Lucky for me, I was wearing thick pants and not shorts) Once I showed her the blood and the bruises, she pulled her dog close to her and said, "Oh, he's just so scared. You've scared him." Seriously. I am not lying. Her dog had just sunk his teeth into my leg and HE was petrified? Well, it was at this point that my anger overruled my pain and fear and I think I may have started yelling at her through gritted teeth and tears, "HE's scared? I'm terrified, lady!"
She backed off a little but just kept telling me how her dog was just a puppy and how her dogs are her life and they are her babies, etc. I wanted to explain to her that I had 3 real babies at home--three actual living and breathing HUMAN babies who would appreciate a mother with all limbs in tact. But I managed to compose myself, memorize her name and number and continue on my way. (She did offer to give me a ride home, but like I wanted to take a back seat to the doggy carseats she probably had waiting in her car for each of her mangy mutts.) I walked for a good mile, crying and cooling off my temper but I was still a solid 5 miles from home so I eventually picked up my pace and ran the rest of the way home. Running helped calm my mood until I relayed my experience to Brent which scared Ally pretty bad. I think I might have been yelling again...




My leg still hurts pretty bad, but it's nothing a little antiseptic and some duck tape can't fix. Brent was the hero and patched me up nicely First-Aid-Kit-style. He took some pictures just in case we needed to go to the doctor later. I don't think that will be necessary. The woman's "babies" are well-cared for and are up to date on all their shots. I do wonder how she would feel if I let Keith or Cole gnaw on HER leg. Some people. Newsflash: PETS. ARE. NOT. PEOPLE!!!

OK. Now that I blew off my steam, here are some recent pics of my true babies. I'm not really sure what happened to my mad blogging-skills in March but if I want my family to start talking to me again, I better start blogging.