Noon on Friday

It's noon on Friday. Here's what's going on at our house:


Let's break it down:

First of all, Kenna is still in her pajamas. Technically, Allie is in her "pajamas" too because we got in late last night and she crashed in her clothes. Yep, it's noon.

Second, the girls have been rummaging through closets and found some snow hats they have decided to wear. Since I took this picture, they have also added their snow pants to the entourage. Just two days ago they were out in swimsuits playing in their little pool- go figure.

Third, their rummaging has also rounded them up a puppy. Yes, a few random small kitchen appliances with long cords make for a great pretend little puppy dog to drag around. When Allie came to show me her puppy, I petted it in the wrong spot and she let me know that I was about to get bit. Woops.

Fourth is their new jewelry. We had to make them a necklace this morning. Last night we went to watch the fireworks for the Opening Ceremonies of the Summer Games, and as we were leaving, Kenna found a little fake gem on the ground. She was determined that we make a necklace out of it, so being the extremely crafty and ingenious mother that I am, we hot-glued it to some ribbon. We found a little flower thing to glue on for Allie because, of course, she needed a necklace too.

What do YOU do at noon on Friday?

And since you missed out on a really good fireworks show last night, here is Kenna's rendition of our family at the fireworks which has been proudly displayed on the fridge:


My little Picasso does me proud again!

OSCAR

Yes, Oscar. As in, Oscar the Grouch. Any guesses as to whom this reference is being directed?

Beep, time's up- it's me.

Because I am the author of this blog, it is up to my sole discretion as to what content is placed upon this cyber journal. So, with all poetic license, I am using this as a means to VENT. (May I please remind any individuals who choose to engage in further reading of this blog to keep in mind that I am currently a 35-week pregnant woman who is experiencing a rapid decline in brain functioning).

Eh hem. Here goes:

I'M HOT. Yes, I am very hot. Don't get me wrong, I am all about summer and nice days and sunshine. I just happen to have an internal heater that keeps me at least 10-15 degrees hotter than the average American. I am baffled when my girls snuggle up in their blankies during the day and say, "I'm cold mom." At night my husband will crawl into bed next to me and completely engulf himself in the covers and make a little shiver noise, as if he is actually cold. As I lay there dreaming of a large glass of ice water (which, if I consume, will wreak pure havoc on my sleep with countless trips to the bathroom), my husband reverts back to his days as a young deacon lying in a snow cave at 20 below. So, my family endures the swamp cooler being left on part of the night until I decide to have some sympathy somewhere around 2 in the morning and shut 'er down. By then, of course, it feels just right.

While I'm on the topic of weather, I will just keep on grouching. WIND I do no like you. Not one bit. In fact, I down right despise you. If any out there ever choose to live in southern Utah, be prepared for wind. LOTS of wind. The spring is pretty much, well, windy. Don't do your hair- it will be ruined within 2.6 seconds of leaving the house. Don't let your children play outside- you may have to go search and find them wrapped in the neighbor's fence across the street. Hold on very tight to your mail- one slip and it's gone forever. Don't leave anything unchained outside- you may very well never see it again. Did I mention I don't like wind?

I HURT. Yes, I hurt. My lower back and the sciatic nerves in my caboose declare mutiny when I move. Perhaps the nerves in my derriere have entangled themselves in the umbilical cord and therefore make it so I walk as though I am an 80-year-old woman in need of a hip replacement. Not to mention my rib cage is quickly being taken over by an expanding uterus, and has no other place to go. Maybe I'll rent a walker for the next few weeks. Get me a cane. Maybe I'll just rent a room at the local senior center. I would fit right in.

I'M DUMB. No really, I keep making mistakes that are absolutely ridiculous and are driving me nutso. I LOST MY HUSBAND'S SHOES. I feel rotten. Horrible. Here's the story: Jacob had to be in South Jordan for work Wednesday, so the girls and I traveled up with him Tuesday night so we could spend the day with my sister on Wednesday while Jacob had meetings. Well, as the girls and I were loading our stuff in the truck upon leaving the hotel Wednesday morning, I set Jacob's shoes down somewhere. I can't remember where I put the blasted things. Down on the pavement? Up on the side rail to the bed of the truck? All I know is I had them at one point while loading the truck. That is what drives me absolutely nuts- I do the dumbest things and forget everything. As I was heading down the interstate about 4 minutes after departure, I suddenly had the thought that I couldn't remember loading the shoes. I exited the interstate as soon as I could, and sure enough my search concluded that I in fact didn't have the shoes. Ah crap. So I hurry back to the hotel, certain that I would find them sitting on the pavement where I left them since I had only been gone no longer than 10 minutes. Well, no such luck. I ran into the front desk of the hotel, but no one had turned them in. I went back to the truck and slouched in the seat so sad that I really couldn't find those rotten shoes. Jacob loved those shoes. Those suckers weren't cheap either. Did someone steal them in that short time? Then I had the thought that maybe, in all stupidity, I left them on the side of the truck and then drove off with them trying their best to hold on for dear life. I searched all over the side of the road as I drove away, but never did see any sign of them. So I guess I will never know exactly what happened to the shoes. Now let me just interject something here. I made this similar blunder about a month ago. I left my wallet and a key on top of the car and drove off. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? DUH! I was so positive I had left them in the car, so when I couldn't find them anywhere I was certain someone had gotten in the car and stolen it. Well, I got home to find a little note from a police officer letting me know some kind soul had found my wallet on the road and turned it in and to come pick it up. Nice. MY WALLET! Come on Britt! I was SO incredibly grateful for an honest Abe who turned it right in. I was so relieved. But really, that was dumb. So to think that I did that AGAIN with Jacob's shoes was enough to just really tick me off. But the story doesn't end there. Oh no. I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out the best way to break the news to my husband that I had a repeated offense of severe brain malfunction and lost his shoes. I decided I was going to wait for the perfect, prime time. Wait until he was in a really good mood. Well, thanks to my 4-year old, just as we were pulling into home from our trip up north, she out of nowhere spilled the beans that mom lost dad's shoes at the hotel. Thanks Kenna. NOT the perfect, prime time I was hoping for. AAAH! GRRR! @#$@%!!

So there. I vented. Grr. If you really made it this far, you are probably sick of reading the rantings of a hormonal pregnant woman. If you are my husband, you've already put up with it for nearly 9 months now and I really really love you. I am so so sorry I lost your shoes. I feel like a dirtball and I am so angry about the whole thing.

Against my carnal grouchy wishes, I really need to end with a positive. My cooler works great. Today the wind isn't blowing like a hurricane- yet. My debit card remains safe inside my wallet which I still have in my possession. At least I left the shoes and remembered my children. Basically, I have way too many good things to focus on. Sometimes Oscar just needs to get out of his can for a bit. Maybe he'll go back in now.

Chain Reaction

After almost a month-long fiasco, I have learned that making sure you get enough iron when you're pregnant is really really important. Hmm, go figure. Especially getting enough iron when your blood volume is peaking during pregnancy.

Otherwise you will:

Experience what feels like heart palpitations followed up by dizziness and lightheadedness which is, well, kinda scary. Then, you will have to go to the Doctor for an EKG. When that isn't conclusive, you will then have to wear an itchy, wiry, Holter monitor for 24 hours to monitor your heart. When that shows you are experiencing a rapid heartbeat you then have to have an echocardiogram (ultrasound of your heart) to make sure it's functioning alright, along with an extra poke to get even more blood drawn. And don't forget all the time in between waiting to hear back results from all these.

Moral of the story? A bottle of iron supplements cost around $8. All those heart tests and extra doctor visits cost a LOT more. Lots and lots.

Silver lining? We've hit our deductible so insurance gets to foot most of the bill for these tests. And, at 34 weeks and counting, we are sure getting excited to see our little boy!

Whew.

"Necessity...

...is the mother of invention."


Ew.

Car Seats Are Overrated

Weeping and Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth

I've often wondered exactly how this scriptural reference would be manifest. I think tonight I saw it. And if I were Webster and had to define this phrase, it would go like this:

Weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth: The reaction mom gets when she tells her girls they will not be able to have their ice cream after dinner because they have not listened to mom after repeated opportunities.

Really, it was as though I told them they were doomed to eternal damnation.

Thank goodness- actually, triple and quadruple thank goodness for the wonderful mother in my own life who has put up with my weeping and wailing over the years. I'm certain I've had my own bouts of gnashing of teeth as well. And she is still always there when I need her. I am so incredibly grateful for my mom, and my mother-in-law as well, who have raised me and my husband. As I am going through a lot of the same things they have encountered over the past 30 years, I am so grateful to have someone who has endured and is able to give me counsel, and for someone who seems to continue to endure. I guess I have at least 30 more years of being a mom. I have a feeling, though, it's a role I won't easily give up. What an opportunity to be a mom. Even if I put up with some weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth on occasion.

Laugh

This came in an email I got, and it just really made me laugh. Enjoy!



If you were around in 1919 and came upon the following Mormon poster.....
I mean...seriously...wouldn't you just keep drinking?