Oh, the things we do for beauty!

(Alysha, this one's for you!!)

I meant to do this post a couple of weeks ago, but time has gotten away from me again. Better late than never, so here goes. I had decided that I wanted to get Maycie all dolled up in patriotic attire, complete with flag shirt and tye-died leggings. I even made a big red flower headband to complete the outfit, but some lady told me it looked like a hat, so the one in the pictures is different. I fluffed up her hair and put on her new little white flip-flop sandalls, but something was still missing. Then it hit me! Her toes were not painted. I thought, "now wouldn't it be cute if I paint them in alternating hot pink and blue? One problem, though. Maycie was not in a cooperating mood and wouldn't hold her feet still. I sang every dumb song I could think of and tried in vain to distract and entertain her, but to no avail. Well, I was not about to let the one year old beat me, so I formulated a plan... This plan included a high chair, a couple of long ribbons, some treats and toys, and a CD player (I thought maybe my singing was bugging her). Anyways, I put Maycie in her high chair and tied her feet to the posts with the ribbons. Now I'm sure some of you are remembering a previous tying-up incident, but don't be calling Child Protective Services on me, because I swear this is the only other time I've ever done it and I wouldn't have done it had she cried. My plan worked, though, as her sweet little toes turned out so cute! It was all worth it in the end- her toes totally made the outfit, so I'd do it again if I had to! Now don't we all do some pretty crazy things for beauty? Waxing, tanning, plucking, botoxing, nips, tucks, lifts, shall I go on? Even if you haven't done all those things, I know you've thought about it a time or two! So what's a minor ankle restraining compared to all that? Don't we all love great toes!

Happy Stinkin' Birthday Maycie

As you might have guessed from the title of this post, I was not too thrilled with the thought of my youngest having a birthday. Birthdays are what you have when you start to grow up, and I was not prepared to face the fact that Maycie was going to do just that. Something about the fact that she may be my last baby scares me, and I wasn't ready to watch time play it's cruel trick and start slipping by- just as it has with my other three kids. It's not fair! (And yes, if you're reading this Mom, I know that life's not fair.) I just wanted this last year to drag by so slowly so I could savor this precious baby time, because we all know that it will be gone soon enough. It's just not fair. So Maycie's birthday inevitably came last Wednesday, June 18th. I held out letting her be officially one until 9:10pm, the exact moment she was born last year. When it came, I cried. I'm even starting to cry again just thinking about it. I'm sure you're all thinking that I'm really dumb, and I'm even agreeing with you, but I just can't help it. I don't know why this is so hard for me, so if there's any Psych majors out there reading this, please feel free to share. Anyways, moving on. Happy birthday Maycie! I love that baby to death and I wanted it to be a fun birthday for her, despite the fact that I was having a partial breakdown and she wouldn't even remember any of it. I invited our family to come have a picnic and celebrate at the Spanish Fork Resevoir, and the weather was perfect. Maycie was darling in her new swimming suit, and she had a ball splashing in the water and playing in the sand (okay, she mostly just tried to eat the sand). All the kids had a great time and the adults got to sit and visit. I wanted Maycie to have a polka-dotted cake, so I slaved for a couple of hours making one. Just call me Betty Crocker, because it turned out pretty darn cute (even though I left the candle at home, so Zane made one out of a piece of rolled up napkin which we lit on fire). My Mom's friend made a small cake just for Maycie with fondant and polka dots to match. It was so stinking cute watching her pull off the polka dots then stick her fingers in the holes that they left. Apparantly Maycie really likes chocolate cake, because she destroyed it. She also figured out that she liked ripping the paper off of the presents even more than she liked what was in them. All in all it was a really nice day, and at the end of it, I was just so glad that I have such a wonderful baby- a beautiful, smart, silly, snuggly (stubborn, nap-hating, garbage-digging), fun and lovable baby. A baby that wraps her little arms around my neck and gives the tightest hugs whenever I need them. So, because I love my little Maycie Rue so much, I just might decide to let her have another birthday- in about five years or so.

Baby Love

I wonder if a little girl's fascination with dolls means she'll be a good mother someday. Alivia LOVED to play with dolls when she was little, and she is already a great little second "mom" to her baby sister Maycie. And lately, Maycie has taken to hauling around her baby doll, a cute little cabbage patch bean baby. I'll watch her from another room and she'll crawl around dragging this doll with her, then she'll stop and sit and start plastering it with kisses. When she's tired, she'll sit on my lap and watch TV with me, holding her doll on her lap. She'll rub it's tiny patch of hair on the top of it's bald head as I play with her hair. It's so stinkin' cute, but it makes me a little wistful, too. I can see the day when my daughters have their own babies, and that day is coming a little too quickly. But watching them makes me certain that they are going to be great mothers when that time comes.

WYATT is for WaY Awesome Totally Terrific

My oldest son Wyatt is such an awesome kid. I've felt a little guilty lately because he hasn't been the subject of a post yet, but it's not because he's less loved or anything like that (though some days he does make me want to tear my hair out). Wyatt's favorite thing, besides teasing his siblings, is sports. All sports. When he's not talking about sports, he's drawing pictures about them. They usually feature him in a uniform bearing the BYU logo, versus one of his siblings or buddies in a uniform bearing the UofU logo. I try to tell him that's backwards, but it seems his father has brainwashed him into believing otherwise. About every other day or so he's asking if I can sign him up for football, basketball, karate, wrestling, etc. I told him he can't wrestle until they get rid of those gross one-piece spandex uniform things that show all the- well, you know. Anyways, Wyatt was super excited when baseball season came around. He is on the Indians team with his best buddy Hunter, which might not be so fun for the coaches, because those two together are goof-offs. It's a good thing the coaches are Hunter's dad and Wyatt's dad!! The first game of the season was Wednesday. Wyatt was all ready for the game two hours early, and could hardly wait for Zane to get home from work. He had on new baseball pants and cleats, and was sporting a brand new lefty mitt that is genuine leather. Zane said he'd be able to catch way better with that than with his fake leather mitt from last year, though I think that's just a dad talking that would like to relive his childhood through his kid. During the game, Wyatt was all business. He was lookin' alive and ready for anything out on the field, and assumed the "ready" pose at all times. The funniest part of the game was when Wyatt got a hit and started running to first base, then abruptly stopped halfway there. He tore off his batting helmet and threw it back to home plate, and barely made it to the base before the ball got there. I'm not sure why he did it; maybe it stunk from all the little boy sweat that had been accumulating in it. Over all, he did a great job and played well, and I was very proud of him. It's looking like it'll be a great season, and then we'll be back to begging for football, basketball, karate, etc. I'm sure Wyatt will go pro in one of them someday, and if not, maybe he'll make it big drawing sports cartoons for the New York Times. Either way, he sure is one way awesome totally terrific kid!

Catching Up

I know it's been a couple of weeks since my last post, but I've had a lot going on lately, so I'm writing this post to catch up. I also have a few thoughts I need to get off my chest. I'll start with Mother's day- it was a great day for me, but I was more excited for my Mom this year. It all started with a cadbury cream egg this easter- I was eating one at my mom's and she commented that she loves those things (who doesn't, with all the creamy, fattening goodness oozing in the inside. Whoever says they don't like them is totally lying). Anyways, I got to thinking that's where I got my love of them from, as well as my love of just about every treat that I like. My mom used to hide chocolate licorice in her underwear drawer, and so do I. We also used to love to stop at the Hostess store and get lemon pies. The list goes on, but I'll get to the point. After reminiscing about all the things I remember my mother loving when I was younger, I decided to do a Mom's Favorite Things basket- you know, kind of like Oprah's Favorite Things, except without the car. Anyways, I asked my siblings to help me think of all the things mom loved so I could put them in a basket for her gift. I got all her favorite treats, and a few of the things she loves most, like a purse and gift cards to her favorite places to shop and eat. I made a card and typed a list of my favorite things about my mother. I was so excited to give it to her I could hardly wait- and I was desperate to get the darn thing off my counter before I ate all the treats in it. Anyways, I wanted her to really like it because she does a lot for me, and I think she did. I love you, Mom- you're great.

Next on my list is Alivia's birthday. She turned 10 this year, and I feel really old having a kid in the double digits. We went to Fat Cats to bowl with the family, but she wanted a friend party- and not just any party, but a slumber party! I don't usually do big parties, but decided this was a milestone birthday, so I gave in. Every girl needs to have a true slumber party once in her life, and every mother needs the experience of hosting one. Her list of friends was big, but we couldn't really shorten it, so I geared up for the coming craziness. And with 12 girls plus Alivia, it was just that. I'm not complaining, because it actually was a lot of fun. We played games and had a dance and karoake party, then watched a movie until late. The giggling didn't stop until after midnight, but I didn't really mind. It brought back memories of sleep-overs when I was young, and I found myself participating more than Alivia probably wanted me to. By the way- I found out that I'm terrible at Dance Dance Revolution, but not too bad at American Idol karaoke...
Anyways, I've since recovered and Alivia's already planning her next big birthday bash (which probably won't happen until she's 12 or 13).

Alivia also participated in the 4th grade Hershey Track meet this week, as well as her school program. She did well in her track events, and got to run in the semi-finals in the 50m and the 200m. I was very proud of her and enjoyed getting to watch, especially the 200m since that was one of my events back when I was in high school.
At her school program, Alivia got to teach Zane some old fashioned dances that her class has been working on all year. It was quite humorous watching all the kids trying to lead their clueless parents around the gym floor, while Mr. Thorpe called out the steps. Then they sang songs and acted out bits of history of the State of Utah. Alivia was the cutest pioneer in her song/skit, and I have the photos to prove it. All that made for a busy week for us, though I'm glad Zane got the chance to brush up on his dancing skills- he was getting quite rusty.

And now, a desperate plea for help. I've been wondering if the ability to nap is hereditary, or if it's a learned skill. All my kids have been terrible nappers, and I don't think it's a coincidence. Either I'm wrecking them with crappy napping habits, or it's just not in their genes to nap well. Probably it's a combination of both, but I'm just not ready to throw in the towel when it comes to Maycie. She's napped okay up till now, but this last week or so she's been on a napping strike and we've been battling over it. I've tried letting her cry it out, but my poor heart can't take much more of it, so if anyone has any tips, please feel free to share.

Last and most certainly least, I just might be a little bit white trash. While I've always wondered, there are several things that have led me to the conclusion that I probably am. Here's a few of the most recent. I bought what I thought was a cute tunic dress, and wore it out shopping. I thought I was looking pretty good, but was informed that it was in fact a nightgown. I guess that's okay, because I frequently wander around my neighborhood in pj bottoms, and I have no problem driving my kids to school in my bathrobe. Don't look too close at my yard, because my lawn needs a haircut worse than Donald Trump (it's so long that Maycie could get lost in it) and my window wells had weeds so high in them that they could put a south American jungle to shame. Lastly, the point that drove it all home was at my monday morning biscuit brunch. I started feeding Maycie a jar of Hawaiian Delight baby food while she still had a piece of cracker in her mouth. She spit the cracker piece out, covered in the baby food. I picked it off her shirt and put it on a napkin, then licked the sticky baby food off my fingers (hawaiian delight is seriously tasty). A couple of the girls I was visiting with started laughing, but I didn't see anything wrong with that. I've never had a problem sharing my drinks or food with my kids, and a little bit of baby spit didn't even phase me. What's backwash amongst family? j/k to all you germaphobes out there. I've never been one, nor have I ever been a neat freak. Surprisingly, my kids are never sick, so I guess we've built up good germ-resistant immune systems. Anyways, I don't think I'll ever be categorized as the classy sort, but in the end, that's okay.

All in all, it's been a very busy couple of weeks for me. That's alright, because summer's almost here and I'm looking forward to having a little less on the schedule. Though I'm sure after a couple of weeks of my kids fighting and driving me crazy, I'll wish them back in school. Here's to crazy- life would sure be boring without it, now wouldn't it?

Pig Business

Though I could write a post about how big of slobs my kids are with the same title, this is actually a post about the stock show. The Utah State Jr. Livestock Show, to be more exact (since Zane is the Secretary, I better use it's proper title). The stock show comes to Spanish Fork every year on the first weekend of May, and has for the last million years. Zane and his siblings used to show pigs when they were growing up, and he became the Secretary about six years ago. Kids aged 8-18 who are involved in 4-H or FFA come from all over the State to show cows, sheep, and of course, pigs. This is a big deal to some people, and those who win wear their shiny award belt buckles with pride. Let me just tell you, Zane was SO excited for Alivia to turn 8 and be old enough to show a pig last year, and this year was no exception. He would bring her down to the farm almost every day to feed her pig, clean it's pen, and play with it. We bit our nails waiting to find out if her pig was going to be big enough to show. And we made sure to cover all the details. Her pig was washed and trimmed (yes, pigs have hair, but you have to look close to see it), and we oiled and powdered it up with the finest Johnson's Baby Products has to offer. Alivia had her pig ready for weigh in on Wednesday, then was up bright and early Thursday morning to have it judged. Apparantly pigs have to have nice haunches- muscular, but not too meaty. Now that's a nice rump, don't you think?
On Friday morning, the kids participate in a category called Fitting and Showmanship, where the kids are judged on how well they control their animal while keeping eye contact with the judge and a smile on their face. We got her ready in her white collared shirt and clean dark jeans, pinned on her new 4-H badge, and did her hair all up so she'd be the cutest hog handler in the arena. She was, too. Her pig didn't win this year, but she sure had fun and her parents were proud- especially Dad (I think sometimes we are allowed to relive our childhoods through our kids).

On Saturday, the kids sold their animals at the auction, which is their favorite part (no surprise, considering Alivia's pig went for a whopping $475 this year). So Oinkers II went off to the butchers, and someone will sure get some nice hams, roasts, and pork chops out of him. Alivia's okay with that because next year will roll around all too quickly, and she'll start working on Oinkers III. I just wish she'd keep her room as clean as she keeps her pig-pen.

Toilet Humor

Now don't get scared off by the title of this post- keep reading and you'll understand. My day has seemed to revolve around toilets. I haven't been able to keep my two youngest away from them! Not that they have diarrhea or anything, but Jack and Maycie have decided that the toilet is their new favorite plaything. Now I don't want to get ahead of myself, so I'll begin at the beginning. It all started with garbage...

Maycie LOVES to play in the garbage. It's as if her sole purpose each day is to find the garbage cans in every room and empty them all over the floor. Then she plays in the mess until I catch her. Now don't be thinking that I don't pay attention to what my child is getting into, because I do- but that kid can crawl fast! It seems like I blink and she's found another one. I seriously clean up at least a half a dozen over-turned cans daily. Today started out like any other day- Maycie had already gotten into two different cans by noon. I was trying to get my hair and make-up done, and she wouldn't leave the bathroom garbage can alone. Or the bedroom one. Or the closet one (I have cans in every room and closet so my kids and husband don't have any excuse for dumping their trash wherever they feel like). I finally got sick of it and put all those cans up on my bed, hoping she'd then play with the toys that were all over my bedroom floor. It didn't work. I've decided that Maycie doesn't like most toys, so it's pointless to get them for her. Her birthday wish list will consist of her own cell phone, car keys, make-up items, and assorted electronic devices. Sounds like a teenager, huh? If that stuff is too expensive, just get her a sack full of garbage... Anyways, back to the story. When Maycie couldn't get the garbage, she ignored the toys and found a new plaything- the caps that cover the screws that bolt the toilet to the ground. Gross!!!
I tried to distract her, even offering up my own cell phone and watch, but those were no longer good enough. All she wanted were those dang caps, and she was doing whatever she could to get at them. So I did the only thing I could think of. Now I don't want to lose friends over this, but I was on a time frame and I had to have ten minutes to finish getting myself together! So I tied her up.
Yes, I put a belt around her waist and attached an elastic leash. Then I looped it over my bed post so she could still see me in the bathroom, and dumped an assortment of toys in front of her. That worked for about five minutes as the leash was new and interesting, until she tried to get to the toilet. She got stopped about a foot away, and that ticked her off royally. Now Maycie is already learning to throw a fit, and she let loose. She buried her face in the floor and wailed at the top of her lungs. That brought Jack in to see what was the matter. He laughed and said he thought Maycie looked like a puppy and could he have her as his pet. As I was unhooking her, I noticed Jack had something in his hand. I asked to see it but he hid it behind his back and held out the other hand, which contained his blue Bob-the builder pliers. Jack loves tools, and tries to "fix" all sorts of things. I asked him to show me the other hand, so he reluctantly held it out. In his fist was clenched the flusher to a toilet.
I told him to show me where he'd gotten it from, and he pointed to the guest bath. Then he ran to his secret spot behind a chair and produced another one, belonging to the mudroom bath. I had to laugh when he told me that he was just "fixing" them so the toilets would work better. We screwed the flushers back on and had a talk about how toilets wouldn't work without them, and if they got lost, we wouldn't be able to flush the poop. He said then our house would stink, so he agreed to leave them alone. Now if I could just get Maycie to leave the toilet caps alone. Oh, how I wish for the good ole' days when she was content to just play in the garbage... or maybe the days before she learned how to crawl. No, she's so much fun now that I wouldn't go back, and I love to think about what kind of shenanagins she'll get into when she's Jack's age.