Instead

Instead of staying a baby, P is growing and (gasp) practically CRAWLING. 

Instead of swapping out clothes that are too small, I keep squeezing her healthy self into them. I mean, those leggings. How can I not?

Instead of letting C's work induced absence make me nuts I am concentrating on looking so forward to heading west soon, and spending weeks and weeks with this lady.

Instead of cleaning the kitchen I watched these two play, while thinking about how yummy the bigger one is.

Instead of wearing pants I put on the most comfortable leggings of my life, picked up C from the airport, and went to this neat park for lunch.

Instead of being nervous about outings on my own with the minions, I take a superhero with me.

Instead of getting sad about a terrible haircut, I swept those blunt bangs to the side, and simply embraced the frizz.

February and Beyond

Our house has been looking something like this:

                                        

                                        

                                        

                                        

                                        

*Potty training is happening up in here, and its working out this time. Jelly beans have magical potty powers.

*I have a hard time keeping M out of P's crib. I am normally quite diligent about not allowing him in, but I didn't have the heart to deny him this cuddle time. He wanted it so badly. 

*This girl is a smiling machine

*The library is one of our frequent escapes when the walls start to close in at home. M is probably a little too comfortable there. He always has things to tell Diane, our fabulous librarian, and takes complete reign of the children's section of the building.

*I have always tried to foster M's imagination. I lived in my imagination as a child, and wouldn't want it any other way for my kids. Sometimes I am baffled at what he comes up with. Being surprised at the originality of your children is pretty neat.

*smooches

*Those little carts have been at the top of my enemy list for some time. They whisper to the children pushing them to run willy nilly through the store, and to disregard everything their parents are saying to them. All of a sudden he has been listening really well, and staying right next to me all through the store. He even pushes the heavy stuff.

*I was so happy C snapped this for me. This is what so much of my time is spent doing. This kid is obsessed with books. It makes me feel a little better about the fact that he is also crazy for television. We are SO excited for the warm weather, so we spend time outside instead of in front of a screen.

and then there were four

I have missed this space. A remarkable amount.

There have simply been too many other things going on for me to get here.

Things like having a baby, readjusting to life with two children, and helping a toddler adjust to sharing mama.

He's doing fabulously by the way.

I think the perfect way to jump back in is to show you what my life looks like now.

Disclaimer: It just so happens that cameras are only pulled out for the cute parts. In reality there are plenty of messy, dramatic, tearful, boring, ineedadietcokethisinstant kind of moments. But these...these are how I get up and keeping doing it every day.

Into the West*

Traveling with M was a completely different experience this time than it was when we flew to New Jersey in January.

January: we dropped curb side at the airport very early in the morning, and I went through security by myself with bags and toddler.

June: We parked the car, C walked with us into the airport to help me get bags through check-in, and then he stood in the security line with us. Does getting through security give anyone else unnecessary levels of palm-sweaty anxiety? At the end of the line we learned that you can get a gate pass that will allow you to go through security and stay with loved ones at the gate until they board the plane. Whaaaaaaat? If you knew about this I am mentally glove slapping you for not sharing. They are ladies gloves, and not harmful, but I hope you're feeling repentant.

January: M was still a lap child. This is a good idea for only one reason. It saves money. Even six months ago he was active and mobile enough that keeping him on my lap for five hours of flight time ended up being a challenge.

June: We had our own seats. This made a huuuuuuge difference. I had my own space, and he had his. He got to sit by the window, have his own snack tray to drive cars on, and poke the woman in front of him (thank goodness she was very nice). I got to read a bit, talk to the person on my other side, and even snuck a snack for myself in there. When he fell asleep I was able to just lay his head on my lap, and not worry about his knees or feet bothering our neighbors while I tried to hold him. I could travel with him this way any time.

(C's aunt makes these double sided puzzles, and M is crazy about them. Flipzles. Awesome.)

January: We had a 30 minute layover that barely left us enough time to change a diaper, and rush to our next flight. M didn't have any time to stretch his legs or get a break from me.

June: We had a four hour layover. I was dreading this to begin with, but it ended up being really great for us. We found an empty terminal where M played with his toys and watched the airplanes out the window for about an hour. We walked on the moving sidewalks. We sat down and ate some dinner. We got close to our terminal and pulled out his books. Then it was time to get on our plane. He zonked during take off, and I had to wake him when we landed.

Now we are here enjoying family, having a yard, cooling off in the evening, and playing in the irrigation. Consistently spending more than just and hour or two out of the house every day has made one little boy so happy.

However, there is a man in the mid-west being very much missed.

                

*This song will be played at my funeral. One of you make arrangements accordingly.

just today

I remembered that I once confused the words 'pubic' and 'cuticle'....horrifying. 

Don't ask me why.

Perhaps its the same reason I have to think for at lease 15 seconds before I can differentiate between Reese Witherspoon and Kate Hudson in my mind.

My husband might argue that it is probably related to the same brain disfunction that causes my lack of attraction for George Clooney. 

Why I can never say the word repricocity reciprocity correctly. So hard.

Not to mention this list of items. 

Do you know what is not hard? Looking at this face.

                           

Just need to design a super suit

We have been having a lovely rain storm in Malad this morning.

The thundering kind of lovely. There are few natural things that I love better than thunder. It is so powerful in such a comforting way. I am not sure when piddle-causing childhood terror turned into comfort, but somewhere in my tween years it (thankfully) made that transition.

M and I are the only ones in the house. Well, Tanner is in the basement somewhere, but he is sleeping which means he basically doesn't exist. A few minutes ago M started playing with something he probably shouldn't get into, so I gave him a mom look, and told him to "be careful".

As if to back up my mothering wisdom, a wave of booming thunder followed immediately after I finished speaking.  I held my mom expression on M as if that follow up had actually been part of my plan. I wish he was six, and could think I actually had powers. He did back away, so....that could mean something.

Don't you mom's wish that the Heavens and nature backed up your authority all of the time in such a commanding and obvious way?

I guess I know my new dream super power.

aaaaand here is a picture of my child playing naked on the stairs with a bottle of Tylenol....because that's how we roll.

I am Shameless

So I have to post M's one year portraits. I love them.

*Disclaimers

I am not a professional.

I took about 75 pictures, and these five are the best. Yes, I know a couple of them are not completely in focus. Oops.

One year old children are not the most cooperative subjects to work with (I forgot the treats. facepalm.)

I don't have photoshop, and don't know how to use it anyway.

Drumroll:

I can't help myself. Birthday Boy Overload.

This is not really happening, but for those in denial...

Whoever let my baby reach his first birthday this fast may find my finger in their eye....as soon as I track 'em down.

I don't consider myself to be a super emotional person, (unless appetite counts as an emotion), so I have been surprised to find myself feeling "verklempt", as my father always put it, about today. 

There are a lot of phrases that have been said too often for too long, but as I have stepped, rather reluctantly, into adulthood, I understand why this is sometimes the case. They are often true.

The fact that time passes so quickly that we can't seem to grasp at it is one of these over-stated things. I have said it before, but it only becomes more true.

So, here is to the boy who sped my time up even more. The boy who made me a mom. The boy whose boogers I wipe willingly onto my own pants. The boy that has eaten the corners of all our cardboard books. The boy who loves is daddy the very best. The boy with dimples. Here is to my little boy.

I love you. Happy Birthday Darling.

5 Things

I've found myself doing since beginning my posterity, that I never imagined I'd do:

1. I pick someone else's boogers. I know this is old news to moms, but THINK about it. Imagine doing that for another grown person. Pleh.

2. I have frequent and long conversations with a person who doesn't care what I am talking about as long as I keep going. I normally struggle with flowing conversation. It is a good arrangement in which to learn about myself. However, I do sometimes just sing "This is the Song That Never Ends" for a very long time.

3. I let another human poop into my hand. Don't judge. I didn't want it in the bath water. Yes, I thought about holding him over the toilet, but it was not soon enough in the chain of events.

4. I share my plate at meals. What is the big deal, you ask? Listen people, I don't share my food. Its mine. At the Donovan household, eating from someone else's plate is just as heinous as reading their diary. Which I did do to my sister once. I took it to a sleep over and read it with my friends. I wonder if this is why she no longer journals....? Point, I like my child enough to share my food. Big deal.

5. I let my parents cyber-sit sometimes when I have to go potty, or start the laundry. It is a marvelous arrangement. Also, I know I am a good mom because when my son wants to each wood chips from the flower bed, I hand him the bigs ones so he can't swallow them. Word.

Being a mom was hard today.

Hard because m. d. was pretty determined to be unhappy. (Teeth? Is it you again?)

Hard as in I just found a partially eaten puff treat stuck to my arm and have no idea when it got there.

Hard because I don't have anywhere to go, but would like to get out.

But you know what? I will do hard again any day.

It has ARRIVED

Spring that is. It came! We spent a glorious weekend showing M what grass feels like on the toes, what pickles taste like, and how to spot birds way up in that finally blue sky.

It was so good. 

I mastered the art of walking by very lonely looking yard sales without making eye contact with the people trying to reel me in with their will power to buy their things. Unless you are selling that Sprite that I am having a hankering for, I don't need any of those things at present.

We got to help with a baptism at our church. I have never helped with one that wasn't family, so it was neat! It was two hispanic girls, so the program was bilingual. The speakers did a fantastic job of keeping everyone involved and understanding. It is a wonderful thing to feel the spirit even when you don't understand through language what is being said. It was neat. 

Speaking of church, I went alone for the first time up here. Husband was sick, and I could 't take M and teach my 5 year old primary class. It was an interesting time. My four little boys are..... a handful. Never still. I was wishing with fondness for the Sunday a few weeks back when one of them was kind enough to point out with much surprise and exclamation that I have hair on my arms. A lot apparently.  It seemed that would be easier than pulling them back from walking on all fours in front of all the children with their shoes on their hands. 

We had a lovely rain storm roll in while we were having a cook out with some friends. It smelled gorgeous, and felt gorgeous, and made me forget that I was up in arms about Mav not taking ANY afternoon nap AT ALL. Heathen. 

It really was SO good.

Do you want to be my favorite uncle?

I don't know what it is about Dick Van Dyke, but it is impossible not to like him. Right? Do any of you NOT have an affection for this man? It is the kind of feeling you might have for a beloved uncle or grandfather. You just want to latch on at the knee and have them pat your head.

I imagine that if I ever met him I would just want to give him a hug, after which we would share a milkshake while throwing back our heads in affectionate and delightful laughter. The sun would most likely be glimmering over us.

We sing to Maverik every night. For weeks I tried to remember the words of this song because I knew that as a child I had loved it. I kept forgetting, and he mostly got "Once Upon a December" sung on repeat because it is my other favorite. I finally remembered to look this up one evening during his bedtime routine.

Don't you just want to be one of those kids?! Being Truly Scrumptious wouldn't make me feel too bad either....

My Weekend Lessons

Minnesota weather is worse than Cache Valley. I never thought it possible. I hadn't completely decided until my one mile trip down the road an hour ago (weather gods, it is April 22. I am reminding you in case you had forgotten because you are too busy basking sunshine upon people in Phoenix and Atlanta) prompted the snow to start falling.

When you have people over for games and hearty laughter, you should probably have a veggie tray, or a juice cleanse available for everyone to wash out all of the sugary treats that they will bring along. Don't discourage them from bringing it all though because it means you will have goodies in the house for a few precious days.

The blue flavor in the rainbow twizlers is the best.

When snot pools up in a babies nostrils over night, it can turn into a forresty green air stopper. The babies don't like it when you remove it with the looped side of a bobby pin. They also don't like it when you pull the crust from their eyelashes even though you are telling them it will allow them to see. Don't worry, we've been to the doctor today. 

Speaking of the doctor, Doctor Who really never gets old. I must have re-watched some of the episodes five times, and I would watch them again. I walk around saying things like," Fez's are cool. It's completely SONIC!", and " Watch it SPACEMAN". I have not yet fallen to the level of buying my child plushy Daleks. We will focus on the positive.

The wisdom of a Skype conversation

My little brother Kade and I were talking over Skype the other day. We talked about various things, and at some point the topic of Maverik came up as he bobbed in and out of the screen. 

Kade said something like this, "You know, I used to just roll my eyes when people wanted me to see pictures or videos of their nieces or and/or nephews. Now I have one that I want to show to people, and no one cares. I get it now." 

My immediate reaction to this is: How on EARTH could people NOT want to see my child. He is ridonkulously and perfectly adorable! I feel immediately protective of the fact that someone may not like him. Off with their heads! 

Then I realize that although I can genuinely appreciate the cuteness of other people's children,even more so now that I have one of my own, it just isn't the same. Let me know if I am alone in this, but sometimes I look at Maverik and feel so intense about how perfect he is, and how he is the best baby in the entire world. Shouldn't every mother feel that way about her own children? At least when they are babies.(Don't get me started on the parents who think their children retain that perfection into their teenage years, and couldn't POSSIBLY do anything wrong. Ugh. I have horrid flashbacks of the worst kind of moments in a teacher's job.) So, every mom really does have the cutest baby in the world because it is her world. 

So, continue to humor me as I post relentlessly here and any other medium on which you may follow, about my baby and how much I can't get enough of him. Also forgive me for thinking that he is the most adorable, and I will forgive you for thinking your baby or niece or nephew is more so.

I mean, someone PLEASE correct me if I am mistaken about this face being so.....gobbleable.