The ones that got cut

Its that time of year where I smother my lips in way too much red lipstick/shine gloss and look unnaturally blissed out: The annual Christmas photo. Below are the ones that didn't make it. In fact, if we're being honest, which I am (maybe a little too much), we photo shopped the final result. Once I figure out how to find it, I'll have to post it. Our final photo looks similar to the one above. This one might have worked, but Sean decided to contemplate the afterlife and had a few questions. Do you have any idea?

Certainly not, for many, many, many reasons (mostly involving me).

Only if we want to show everyone what I look like while smiling and annoyed. Someone is going through a major daddy phase.

Same reason as above.

Really now?

Despite Sean and I looking thrilled, we were a little alarmed that Jared looks like he could handle a full grown basketball. Okay, then.

I don't think you should use a photo when you have to yell "look at me like you love me," three seconds before the flash explodes.

I personally think this should be the winner, but alas, Sean thought we should all be in the photo.

May all your Christmas prepping be as inspiring as ours!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving! We hope you had a great holiday!
There...I needed an excuse to post this photo. Gracie is scared stiff of dogs. I've gotta love a girl that can pose through her fear. Rock on...sweetie.

Now give me some candy!

Here are some pictures for the lovely grandparents! Just so you know, for word girl to fly she MUST touch her star first. It's a very serious thing. Also, is it normal or healthy to eat an entire day's calories in Halloween candy? I swear I never eat this stuff. I'm more of a baked goods kind of a gal, but its like eating the forbidden fruit. I hope the novelty wears off soon, as I might have to start doing lunges all over again.

It was a lovely, yet spooky, Halloween, in which Jared was mesmerized by both the "moon" and "night". He couldn't stop saying those two words as he rarely gets to see either. Now it's time to...WORD UP! or be Tron and digitize yourself into your computer. Whatever floats your fancy.

Goodness to Come

I just finished with the kids' costumes. Sean has been working forever on his. A hint as to what the costumes will be are posted below. (The man is NOT Sean. Spooky that almost every guy in the Tron movie looks sort of like Sean. I mean really. I giggled through the whole thing). As for the kids, there couldn't be a more appropriate costume for my girl...and my guy. Those of you who don't watch PBS Kids constantly might not know who Gracie will be...Word Girl, and Captain Huggy Face for Jared.

Sean's major Halloween work party is today, so I've got to get my camera ready. And my food radar on. Jared tested positive for a severe dairy allergy and an egg allergy (not severe). I'm terrified he'll find a bit of chocolate on the ground, shove it in his mouth and stop breathing. If anything, I will be the one to convulse on the floor due to the stress of keeping Jared out of dangerous spots.

Happy Halloween!

Cold weather fun?

I don't like winter. I know, this is a shocker for those of you who have to hang out with me January/February (be happy if you don't). But maybe I can like it a smidge better if I get fun things that I can only use in those dark winter months...starting with December and this delicious advent calendar. I felt an honest to goodness swooning sensation in my chest when I saw this:

My word, fabulous other things that I'm way too lazy to copy and paste pictures from can be found at www.garnethill.com

I must immediately withdraw money from our savings account. Sean, if you are reading this, I'm just kidding....sort of. Winter fun!

I Want my Clothes Back...

Ring...Ring...Ring....

Hello?

"Yes, is this Autumn. Who is this?"

"This is year 2003. How are you today?"

"I'm a little confused as to why a year is calling me but other than that I am fine."

"Sorry to interrupt your day but we are doing an inventory and we need your fall wardrobe back."

"Excuse me."

"Yes, your three pair of jeans that no longer fit even though you think they do... they belong to us as does that black sweater you wore on your first date with your husband."

"Is this a joke? And for the record that sweater still fits...I suppose it depends on how much I ate for lunch and the time of the month, but given the correct conditions I still look like a total knockout. Same for the pants. I can wear each pair for a maximum of three hours. Which gives me just enough time for throw them on for a date. So, no, you can't have them back."

"They simply aren't flattering or in style. We need them back. You can put them in a plastic bag on your front porch. We will stop by around midnight to pick them up."

"No, you can't have them. Don't you understand that I've had two babies and that I actually started running and doing lunges to fit back into them? I have gained and dropped a sum total of eighty pounds. You can't take my pants! How will I know when I'm back to my old shape? They are my trophy pants! I'm still 22! I swear I am! I always will be!"

"Mam, that is something you need to work out for yourself. We will be by at midnight. Please throw in that pink sweater, the one with the hole in the armpit...and that sweatshirt with the numbers, and that pink shirt with your initial on it. All of them. I don't want to call again."

...sounds of sobbing...."2003, you were so good to me...why the sudden backlash?"

Click. Buzz of dial tone....

So...I'm going to bite the bullet. I am going to make a large and generous donation to the D.I. Have any of you, my two readers, ever had a hard time letting go of clothes? Am I the only one? I mean they still fit...sort of.

Paying Attention? Not really.

So, sometimes its pretty easy to tell when your mother isn't actually paying any attention to you whatsoever, even to a three-year old, especially to a three year-old.

(Gracie is upstairs yelling things at me, and I'm downstairs trying to cook dinner)

Gracie: Mom, my pants won't come up!

Me: That's nice honey.

Gracie: Mom, my pants won't come up!

Me: (a little louder) That's nice honey.

Gracie: (now coming out of her room, standing at the top of the stairs, yelling) Mom! I need help!

My pants won't come up!

Finally does it click. I did help her.

She was wearing her new blue jeans, and we all know what sort of problems those can cause...

I like it.

Gracie just told me she has three babies in a box inside her room. After quite time I can go look at them. They all have names. Cranky, Lillo, and Fillo. Hmmmm....I think I know who is being hard to deal with.

Happy Anniversary!!!

Sorry for hijacking your blog, but I just wanted to wish you a Happy Anniversary and thank you for a fantastic 5 years!

Be thinking of how you want to use your new web address in the future.

Love Always,
~Sean

Clearing things up...

This girl goes to preschool next week. Between being excited for her and wishing I was the one going back, I keep having celebration parties. We just got back from our "date" where we met her new teacher and then grabbed some pizza. For the first time in my life I got an honest urge to scrapbook, it faded twelve seconds later. (I think her picture looks very high fashion, what with the bright colors and a garbage can.)

This lil' fellow turns 18 months in a week. Crazy. I mean really. He keeps me so busy. All I do is try to keep him from serious injury.

Anyway...I was walking my kids around and I got to thinking...I hope people don't think Sean was annoyed because he had to come get me. Hardly, he was very much my knight in shining armor. However, whenever a car breaks down, that's very annoying.

No chocolate, no clever title

Okay, so, I've been trying my hardest to be good and lay off the junk food. I haven't bought any in ages. That's means I'm being good. It also means I have (had) a giant stock pile in my kitchen cupboards. But,sigh, it is all gone. Completely. I do not count last year's Halloween candy, because I will never be that desperate (we shall see).

And, I can't go out and by any because I DON'T HAVE A CAR and I live in the country and I'm not going to figure out a bus schedule to get a candy bar. I'm also way too lazy to get my kids ready in the morning to drive my husband to work. What? I don't have a car? Yes, late last night it broke down on a completely deserted-absolutely no address-back by a corn field-road. The only thing I could think of was that hideous urban legend about the escaped convict with a hook. I'm not kidding. At any moment I was expecting to hear a scraping noise. Instead, I ran into an annoyed husband. We called a towing company and now my car is at a shop somewhere.

So, not having a car, and not having any candy is making me feel a little like this:

Yes, I eventually did get Jared some new pajamas. It was hard. As the whole toe debacle humored me, maybe a little too much. I've been dying to use this picture. Absolutely dying.

Dada...No Mama!

So, we went on our annual stay-cation this year. Sean and I are way to terrified to take our kids anywhere far, so instead we go local, get a hotel and eat like its the last day of our lives. Gracie is pictured here at the kids museum. Only four seconds of the day she is not pretending,please don't ask me when those are. She comes out of her room pretending to be a dog, and then a horse, then she wants horsey so bad...mom...can we please get a horse, I will feed it oats and apples all day long... Let's just say it would be a very lucky horse, but we just don't have enough room . Needless to say, she had a blast at the kids museum, where there is an entire pretend section.Now, lets move on to the following Mr. Cool. He finally said he said his first sentence. I normally would feel swells of prides, but here is what happened: I go to take Jared out of his car seat, he pushes me away, looks at Sean and yells "Dada! No mama!" Huh. I looked at him, looked at Sean and thought...well, at least I'll have something to report at his next Dr.'s visit. And just this morning, the J draped himself over every bit of furniture in the house crying for his Dada. Poor little guy. I'm really not sure what to do. I mean, I've felt the same way before myself. Anyway, in his quiet moments when he is not crying for his dad, I hope he remembers who gave him his flaxen golden hair and feels a tad bit grateful...

Man o' the hour, gotta love them both

Lazy, hazy summer

(turns out posting photos wasn't that hard)

Dear little bloggy blog blog,

It's been awhile. I have no reason to give for my absence other than...I am lazy when it comes to technology. We got a new computer and I don't know how to post pictures anymore and have no desire to learn. But I eventually will...maybe. Same thing goes for texting. I'm a lazy texter. I don't bother to capitalize or punctuate...or even really do it. Same thing for pictures. Sean takes all of them. I just can't be bothered to remember to pull the camera out of it's bag and capture a memory. It all takes so much effort.

Before you, dear blog, haul off and give me a nasty look, I am also lazy in other things. Let's recount:

This week I wore the same skirt three days in a row, took a one day break, and wore it again. It's one of those with a stretchy waist band and is so comfy. The good thing is that since I'm wearing a skirt I like to believe it makes it look like I efforted. However, I think the neighbors are onto me. "That Autumn, she thinks she's dressing up, but she's just really wearing her nightgown in skirt form." That is what my neighbors would say...if 1)I ever left my house. Which I do, to go through drive-thrus for some fries, and 2) if they actually cared about my clothes.

I have worn my hair in a ponytail for the past 308 days. I know I need to do something about this. I went to Seattle to spend time with my sister, and there she told me that hair is for styling, not just leaving on top of your head. I'm not sure if I believe her. That being said, my sister is so fashionable that she convinced my to update my accessories. I've since wore a scarf three times this week. Gracie told me I look like a grandma. I'm not sure I'm pulling it off

Anyway, we went to that arts festival last night (I wore my skirt), which means, for my family, that summer is here. Beautiful summer, delicious summer, hot summer.

So, here's to lazy summer! Here's to wearing skirts all the time! Here's to ponytails! Here's to making baked good for visiting teaching treats and eating them all myself!

So blog, I will now sign off. My duty is done, I've explained myself.

Until I learn how to post photos -
Autumn

p.s. in small defense of myself I do go running every morning and i also brush my teeth.

Toeing the line...Mwhahahha. Funny.

(picture from my first toe debacle)

So, this post is a little graphic, in the please don't eat your snack while reading this. I'm queasy (Is that a word? Did I spell it correctly? It looks funny) that way. I remember vividly the lesson I learned while producing a show once. Never put up gross medical pictures during the noon news. Most people are eating lunch. Any who...lets move on, shall we.




Flashback...August of 2008.


I'm finally fed up with the intense toe pain I've been feeling for a good four months now. I am done. I am through. I can no longer wear high heels to church and what is the point of going if I can't wear them? Tee-hee. Okay. I didn't know what I was expecting but I most certainly wasn't expecting the three needle jabs into my un-cushiony big toe (right foot, for those of you craving all the gory details). The pain of which, I like to describe as exquisite. The kind of pain that hurts so much it's almost pretty, the kind that makes poets excited. Well, after that, I got to feel a pleasant tugging and pulling as they removed a chunk of toe nail.


After it was all done, I hobbled out to my car, shed a few tears, almost certainly ate some sort of junk food and carried on with my life.


Fast Forward to today....


I woke up with a pit in my stomach, arrived to yet another toe appointment an hour early, because I'm nervous. And yes, instead of healing properly a ball of scared tissue formed, once again, making it impossible to wear my high heels. Without that motivation, I think I would have put this off a few more months.


Anyway, lets repeat the above process. The doctor kept asking me what I was doing this weekend while jabbing the needle in my toe. Seriously, he asked my five times. I wanted to scream that I am trying not to scream and that I want to die this weekend. The operation was a success, until I get home. It is important to note that my toe is bandaged to five times it's normal size.


When I try to get inside my house while holding Jared and holding the door open for Gracie I try to flick my roomy sandal off. Well, they don't make sandals that roomy. My bandage flew off my foot and landed dead center underneath the car. Gracie looked at my foot and started to wail. I looked at the bloody mess and couldn't feel it, or move it as it was still numb. I patted Gracie's head and in a brave voice told her that we need to be brave when we get big owies and walked inside my house like it was a normal day. Had I an emotion in my toe I would've wailed along side her. As it is I still can't feel my toe and don't know if I ever will again.



But I feel fairly positive that in four week from now I should be able to wear my green leather wedges. I think it will be worth it. Maybe.

Four Inches of Snow

This morning we woke up to four inches of snow. Jared found this particularly annoying, especially since we've been going to extreme efforts to invite sunnier days into our lives. We baked a pink cake. Dear April, how can you say no to a cake and a little girl with a squinty eyed smile? I even made Jared do his pleading eyes look...April, you must have a cold, cold heart. I'm beginning to think I don't want to have anything to do with you.

Alas, we had to escape to the Southern part of our state, causing us to feel a little unnerved and out of place, sort of like moles stranded on a beach.

And blinded by vast amounts of sun.

Eventually we got used to all the sunshine, which caused feelings of happy giddiness in my first born and handsome smoldering looks in my second. Oh, and total and complete confusion in their parents. I don't want to go into details, let's just say one of us fed our allergy baby some milk, while the other one of us totally forgot the epi-pen and the benadryl. Thankfully, everything worked out okay.
I can't think of anything clever for this photo, I just think Gracie looks all bright and smart about dinosaurs. You have a question, she's got the answer.And... well... same thing for this one. My bright and shiny little boy.

Okay...Spring, I will leave you with this photo. I think the expression sums up all of our feelings.

What a minute! I have a blog!

Here's a question...if you have a blog and you never blog, do you still have a blog?



Sheesh! A couple of weeks ago I was thinking we were almost out of the woods. Knock on wood, we've had a healthy winter! Then...Slam! Bang! Whoop! Never mind. Everyone is finally getting better. I'd rather not recount the details.



I am now thinking it's time to wash my hair and finally replace my old red shoes that I bought when I was first prego with Jared. I need new "everyday" shoes. This far exceeds any want. I find I am particular and have...ahem...expensive-ish (I know I don't hold a candle to a lot of ladies) taste. I'd rather go a long time without new shoes and wait until I find the perfect replacement.


Anywho...Let's look.
I know they are a ballerina flat. You just can't change who you are. But they are red and shiny...not silver or black. Which is big change, if you consider buying another pair of red shoes a big change...which, some may not. I'll just make red ballet flats my signature footwear. When you see them sitting by the door, then you know I am there.

Days Off?

(seriously...could you leave these faces?)
So, I finally finished all my paper work, evaluated my calendar, got the approved signatures (I only needed my own), and went to turn them into my HR department. I searched the scary corner in my basement (it really is spooky), I searched the coat closet (equally scary), turns out that department has never ever existed in my house. Ever.


Okay, people, the only person I really bring this up to is Sean. Here it is: the only night I have ever spent away from Gracie (and also Jared) is....when I was having Jared...and, well, I don't think that counts. Anywho, every now and then I get an urge to break away, to be wild and crazy. Usually I just go to the mall, bookstore, or fabric store all by myself. When I'm away I feel giddy. I find myself talking a little too loudly. Even as I'm talking to the sales person I hear a voice in my head asking "why are you shouting?".


Okay, so, some might say that I'm too attached to my kids. I'm not going to argue against this. Because it's true. I love the squirts. But, here it is, my dark secret. Sometimes (as in about once every three months), I sort of check out of being a good mom. I turn the TV on (educational cartoons only), I eat cookies, I don't sweep the floor, a tornado looks as though it's landed for good right on my house, I ALMOST fall asleep while watching them play.


I sometimes feel bad about this, but I've decided I'm going to let the guilt go. Today is my pseudo day off. My kids are happy and healthy and well, I've earned C in the mom department... but as we all know...C's get degrees (that was far and away my worst and most made joke during college).


And...just for the record, I'm planning for my first night (well three) away from my kids. It's in June. I know they will be fine, but I will be a blubbering mess. Because I'm weird. I know that. I've known it for awhile.

Happy Heart Day!

Frosting perfection...anyone? Anyone?

Landy me. I never blog anymore. Not sure why. I've also stopped commenting. Still have no idea why, as I still read all the blogs, and I totally love all the blogs...Alas, I have no excuse for my poor blogging habits. I still believe everything works in cycles, and my blogging cycle is off rolling around in some meadow.

So, I love to bake. I like to pick something and then perfect it. I am currently obsessed with perfecting my frosting. Right now, I would say my frosting is probably better than average, but I am not looking for average...perfection is my goal. Right now my biggest problem is that it is not as light and fluffy as I would like. There is a bakery near by whose frosting reaches the pinnacle of perfection. They use a butter cream frosting, which is the kind I prefer.

Anyway, for the two of you who happen to stop by, if you happen to know of any frosting tips or recipes, I would greatly appreciate them.

On a completely other tangent, whenever we get home, Gracie quickly changes out of her jeans into her "comfy" pants. Dear me. I hate how my bad habits get absorbed so quickly.

Do I have to call the cops!?

So, tonight after Sean and I put the kids to bed we were rummaging about the kitchen (you know, to binge on food we don't want to eat in front of our offspring), when we hear someone yelling. We pause...we listen.

"I CAN'T SLEEP WITH ALL THAT NOISE!"

We look at each other. The noise grows louder.

"I CAN'T SLEEP WITH ALL THAT NOISE!"

We look up the stairs. That can't be our daughter. The noise is now loud enough to shake the walls of our house.

"I CAN'T SLEEP WITH ALL THAT NOISE!"

Mwhahahhahahah....So, there you have it. My little three year-old is going on a cranky 68.

2009 Here I come!

I recently happened upon a journal entry penned by myself when I was a mere nine years-old. And yes, there it was, amidst my feelings about my mother's macaroni and cheese, what my cat did, and school yard crushes, was a list of goals. A lot of them very similar to the ones I always have on my mind. I don't know if I should find this disturbing (seriously, could I not have mastered these already?) or humorous (almost twenty years later, turns out I'm still the same person).

Anyway, this year instead of all my regular resolutions...I'm going to go a little different. Let me explain. The following is a list of the resolutions I should be making.

1. Losing weight. This was not on my list when I was nine. However, "better grooming" was (mwhahahaha). I find that so amusing, as I still never make time to properly pluck my eyebrows. Moving along....I think they fall in the same category. I think I've finally come to a point in my life where I've realized if I'm not eating healthy and doing a serious cardio workout at least every other day, my happiness begins to suffer. As a result this is not a resolution, just a way to keep my happy flowing.

2. Be a better mom. I don't think this needs to be a resolution for me. Because, I truly believe the majority of moms wake up every morning wanting to do the best by their offspring. I know this is true of me. If I'm already doing my best...well, that's my best. Can't do any better, no resolution there.

3. Increasing my spirituality. This was a goal on my nine-year old list in the form of "read the Book of Mormon". It is not a resolution for the same reason that losing weight and being healthy is not a resolution. If I relax on my spirituality for even three days, I feel my happiness level begin to drop. So, it's more like a need, like water and food for me. I can always do better...but there will always be room for improvement in this area. I will take it a day at a time.

So...now for the fun part! What are my new year resolutions? Now that I've successfully disposed of the heavy resolutions and why I'm not making them, I say go for the frivolous! Go for the fun! Go for the slightly silly!

1. Make my house cute. When I moved into my current house I was in a terrible pregnancy state that caused me to crawl up the stairs at the end of the night due to fatigue. Then, I had Jared and the year flew by. Now that things have slowed down I've realized I haven't moved in yet. I find this annoying and full of possibilities. I will organize (I just moved all my junk), I will paint (finally), I will decorate!

2. Write! This is a resolution because if I am not writing at least a half an hour a day, I feel all weird and bothered. This means I've felt all weird and bothered for a year and a half. Thankfully, I've been too busy to notice. But now, the feeling is back. I need to get back to the pen and paper. The idea makes me happy....really happy...kiss! This will be the hardest one for me to keep because I only have so many spare hours. I might have to say good-bye to the television or to sleep. I haven't decided which one yet.

3. Umm...that's it folks! This even startles me! I love goals, I love resolutions, but I only have three spare hours a day, and I think I just filled them. Besides, I don't want to overload myself. If I did want to overload myself, I think I would learn to speak french. Everyday I wake up wondering if there will be a reason for me to fly to France. I think "to practice my French" qualifies as a perfectly understandable reason. I saw an infomercial about a Rosetta stone that would help me learn french in three months. I almost bought it. Almost.

But I got enough to do...