Been Over a Year Slacker

 

 

Yesterday, as I was reading my e-mails, I had read an e-mail stating that it had been over a year since I had posted anything on my blog and that it would be inactivated, if I didn't post anything soon.

 

This past year has been a roller coaster of activities, emotions, and changes.  I am waist deep in the daily obligations of wife, mother, and trying to stay-a-float of the craziness that involves living with all boys!

 

The thought of my blog, being no-more, tugged at my heart.  Many times, I have sat down in front of my lap top, ready to share my joys, frustrations, ocd tendencies, cleaning tips, and crafting, but then found myself at a loss of words.  Or, just.plain.tired. 

 

So for my first blog post, I thought it would be fitting to share recent pictures of my boys.  As much as I demand time to stand still... it won't!

 

Cody turned 16 in August.  I have been told on many occasions of how handsome he is.  And he is!  He is very smart, loves to long board, and "hang with his friends".  I would like to say that the teenage years have been kind and fun to us... but they have, instead, been a challenge.  I am positive that the moment Cody's voice begun to change and pit hairs begun to sprout, aliens invaded his once, bright, and reasonable, brain.  We are looking forward to the day when the aliens return his brain to us!

Conner turned 6 in September.  SIX!  He started kindergarten and is doing very well.  Many witnessed me joyfully, frolicking through the tulips, on the first day of school!  Oh what a joyous day, it was! 

If you have followed my blog, or know me, you will know of the treacherous moments this boy has put us through!  He is famous through out our neighborhood and ward!  He continues to be my most destructive, emotional, and messy boy.  But along with his "crazy side" comes his funny and adorable side.  He has definitely created many, forever memories for our family!

 

 

 

Beckham turned one in June.  Time has flown by and I don't want him to grown up!  I want him to always have that little extra layer of baby fat on him.  I want him to never give up his pacifier!  If I have it my way, he will always wander our home with his baby blanket, in tow. 

Beckham is proving to be just as an active toddler as his big brother, Conner.  Lord have mercy!  I have a feeling, he will not be as quite and destructive, but time will tell.  So far, he loves standing on his tippy toes, reaching for whatever object or objects are with in reach, pulling them down then running away, as fast as he can, as if he is a running back, running for the goal.  He's a climber and is very resourceful in using objects to climb to reach things.  Baskets, books, toys, diaper boxes, loaf of bread... you name it, he has used it to climb on.  My favorite time of the day is when I rock him to sleep every night.  Steve is at work, Conner is in bed (usually not asleep yet) and Cody is downstairs, playing his guitar.  I know I should be strong and just let him fall asleep on his own, but my heart is just not ready to let go of our precious "alone time"!

 

Despite my chaotic, crazy, life, right now, my goal is to write on my blog at least once a month, or even more.  I have missed my lil 'ol blog-universe and hope to become re-acquainted again.



Owning it

A couple of nights ago I made a mistake. A monumental mistake. I didn't want to admit it, at first, because, you know, it's that pride thing.

This "mistake" is so ridiculous, it will take at least 6 weeks for things to kinda go back to normal. Yup, it's that serious.

And the recipient of my "mistake" has yet to forgive me. It has affected him socially, emotionally, and I'm sure some other word ending in 'ly'. He's even resorted to blackmailing me as a result of my "mistake".

I'm not sure I will ever recover from this. The guilt is eating me up inside!

Immediately after the "mistake" happened, I tried to down-play it. "It's not that bad. Really, you can't even tell!"

Then I tried to put the blame on the victim. (I have no shame when it comes to making me feel better about my stupidity)

"It's not all my fault! You kept bugging me to do it! Oh sure, it was my idea, but still... you wanted me to do it!"

(see what I mean...shameless)

The above scenario has been repeated for the last couple of days and finally something happened...

Homeboy (Conner) handed me a Christmas CD and asked me to put it in my 'lil under-cabinet stereo system, so that he could bust a move. He struck a pose as he anticipated The Twelve Days of Christmas to blare from the stereo, but nothing emerged. No Mannheim Steamroller. No Mo-Tab (Mormon Tabernacle Choir). Just scratchy noises.

I tried another CD and again, notta. My mind quickly came to the conclusion of what happened to my beloved stereo... CONNER. Enough said. And just to re-affirm my conclusion, I asked him about it.

"Conner, did you break mommy's stereo?"

His response - "Yup!"

And then he turned around and went back to watching Sponge Bob.

So there you have it. There were no excuses. There wasn't any putting the blame on someone else. Oh no! Homeboy totally owned up to it. The little turd.

That's when I knew that I needed to do the right thing and own up to my monumental mistake.

A couple of nights ago, I attempted to "highlight" Homey's hair. And totally failed!

That's right! I did it! I failed! I'm ownin' it! IT'S ALL MY FAULT!

(his hair now resembles a shade of a yellowish-orangeish hue. With spots of light brown. The pictures don't do it any justice.)

I'm feeling it! I'm feeling the love from this boy!

My pre-teen is devastated. He actually wore his hood while walking to school and according to him, was mocked and ridiculed. But I'm kinda thinking he isn't scarred for life.

So if you happen to come upon my oldest fruit of my loins, I am begging you to not look directly at his head. Spare him (okay, and me) the humiliation. And as far as the blackmailing thing...nice try kid. It ain't working.

Change is in the air

Change is in the air and it comes in the form of puberty. Oh, not with me! Been there, done that. It's with this kid, of mine. And it's freaking me out!

No longer does his sweet voice match his sweet face. These past few months, a noticeable change has occurred with Homey. His face is still sweet, but the voice...

Oh! The voice! It now resembles a Barry White voice. Deeper, yet odd. It's all foreign to me. Sometimes, disturbing. So disturbing I have to tell him to "just not talk".

(Barry is a smooth operator... in his velvet jacket)

It mainly freaks me out because I know that, sooner, rather than later, arm pit hairs will begin to sprout. Growth spurts will occur and overnight he will be sporting shorty, short jeans (floods, which are a pet peeve of mine). His now blond peach fuzz, on his face, will turn into a darker, coarser, fuzzy worm on his top lip. And heaven help me if a chest hair suddenly appears. I just can't handle it!

What really worries me are the future challenges he will begin dealing with. Homey registers for the big, bad Junior High this week. And everyone knows that means kids exhibiting pda (public displays of affection), cussing, substance abuse, girls, and hormones. Hormones! Oh the horror!

Homey once told me he didn't want to attend the junior high, that he will be attending, because he heard that the kids swear a lot there. How sweet and innocent is that? I had to tell him that no matter where he goes to school, he will be hearing things he doesn't like. Now, how sad is that?

(check out Mr. GQ)

Although our household will be experiencing big changes in the near future, I do know that he will experience such wonderful things also. When he goes to his first formal dance, you can be sure that I will be there to take a million pictures. When he gets his driver's license, you can be sure that I will be having him run to the grocery story for milk. And you can be sure that the dashboard will have my finger indentations from the fear of being his passenger. When he graduates, you can be sure our family will be elated with what he has accomplished. And when he gets his mission call, you can be sure tears will be running down my cheeks. But they will be happy tears. And when he gets married to his eternal companion... well, let's just not go there yet. I'm barely able to handle him getting arm pit hair.

Wasn't it just yesterday?

Last week Cody turned the big 1,2. That's 12 years old people!

It seems like it was just yesterday that those two pink lines appeared on the ol' pregnancy test, revealing what would be inevitably, my life changing forever.

It seems like it was just yesterday, when I ordered my husband to throw away our live Christmas tree, because I believed it smelled "rotten" and I would gag and experience bouts of nausea whenever I got a good whiff of blue spruce.

And wasn't it just yesterday when my doctor told me I had THE worst stretch marks (extreme itching and bleeding) he had ever seen on a pregnant woman?

It was just yesterday when I experienced 15 hours of gut wrenching, back breaking labor, vomiting, and of course my love affair with the epidural man? "Oh how I love thee, epidural man!"

And then finally after a very long, uncomfortable pregnancy, and then labor, my sweet baby Cody was placed in my arms. It was just yesterday, wasn't it?

I marveled at this miraculous being. I soaked in every detail of my pink, reddish, brown haired, babe. And he even sported a butt chin, to boot! Just like his daddy's.

12 years later, and I feel overwhelmed, that time has gone by way to fast. My son will be passing the sacrament this next Sunday for the first time and next year he will be attending the big, bad, school...Jr. High! (insert hyperventilating)

My heart aches just a tad, knowing that I will no longer be searching for his cute little mug in the crowd of fellow Primary kiddlettes, as he pretends to sing during the Primary Programs.

He's off to bigger pastures. Not necessarily greener pastures, just bigger. Because these past years have ALL been green pastures for me.

Chic Magnet

The last couple of years I have noticed something about my oldest son.

The chicks dig him.

With in the first month of first grade a mother approached me and told me that Cody had a girlfriend. "What? He's only in first grade!" I said. Then fear and apprehension set in.

Last year, while I was visiting with his teacher during a parent teach conference, she told me that he was extremely popular with the girls. "They won't leave him alone!" she said. She then went on to tell me about how much of "character" he was and how much he cracked her up. Nice.

I'm amazed at how well Cody does in school (he's been a straight A student, since he has been in school), and still manages to be the "character" that he is. He's full of one liners, and snorky remarks. He's also full of sarcasm. The parents of his friends are always surprised when they tease him, and he comes back with a zinger or two for them.

He's so witty. I wonder where he gets it from?

This year his comedic charm seems to have stepped up a notch. His teacher has told me how much of a social butterfly he is, and just how much the girls love him. Great.

A couple of months ago, a girl's mother, that is in his class, told me that her daughter just LOVES Cody. Wonderful.

A few months ago, I noticed Cody was covered from head to toe with bruises. "Cody! Where did you get all of the bruises from?" I asked in my worried motherly voice. "Girls" he said.

Apparently, the girls kick, hit, and chase him. All of the time.

"They won't leave me alone! I tell them to stop, but they won't!" he proclaimed.

"Well, they LOOOVEEE you," I said.

He just crinkled up his nose.

There are also some other tell tale signs that my kid is a chic magnet. While cleaning his room in the summer, I found a folded up piece of paper in his top drawer. It said, "Call me this summer 555-1234 Kaley." What the?????

Two of neighbor's daughters are in Cody's class, also. One time we had just gotten home from running errands and when Cody got out of the car, you could hear the girls begin to giggle and they started to yell for Cody. "Tee hee hee hee. Cody! Cody come here? Hi Cody!" Cody sauntered over to the girls, and they ask him if he wanted to "go around the block" with them. He told them "no". Go around the block!!!! Should I be worried?

Whenever I drop him off at school in the mornings, a cluster of giggling, girls drenched in pink and purple ensembles, flutter towards him. They look like a mass of butterflies about to swarm a flower. One time I decided to stay a while and witness this rare scene. Cody immediately became self conscience and began to "shoo" me away. The cluster girls began to giggle at his silly antics. With my greasy hair held back with a head band, and me still in my grody pajamas and wearing no bra, I rolled down the window and yelled, "I love you son! I love you!" (sigh) It was a moment that I have longed for, since I have become a mother.

Here are our two neighbor girls, that are in Cody's class, that just happened to sit near our property line and watched Cody as he mowed the lawn. Hmmmmm... Clever, girls, clever.

And here's the stud muffin mowing, and showing the gals his stuff.

Chic magnet or not, this kid is tops in my book.

First day of school

The week before school began, our family was buzzing with excitement. The majority of the buzzing came from me, of course. The oldest fruit of my loins, was getting on my last nerve, with the constant complaining, whining, dis-obeying, and any other -ing thing you could think of.

In preparation of the beloved school season, we bought crisp new shirts, an-scathed jeans, non-scuffed shoes, fluffy white socks, and streakless underwear. Colored pencils, a new back pack, and calculator were also a must for this special occasion. The excitement was so thick, you could cut it with a knife! However, Cody would strongly disagree. But I don't care. I was ready to kick the grumpy pre-teen to the curb. The "school" curb, that is! Wa! hahahahahah! (I'm evilllllll)

Conner also joined in, with preparing for the school year, by getting a hair cut. His very first hair cut (sniff, sniff).

Conner had an audience while getting his hair cut. See all of the girls checking him out in the reflection of the mirror? Oh yeah, the babes loved him.

Conner was so good and sat still for most of the haircut. Thank heavens!

The first day of school finally rolled in and we, I mean, I was ready.

Cody insisted on wearing his new hoody on the first day of school, even though the temperature was going to hit almost 100 degrees. He may look excited and happy to pose for the annual "first day of school" pics, he wasn't. I practically had to drag him out of the car.

Adios Cody! Au revoir! Auf Wiedersehen! Sayonara! Ciao! Make your momma proud!

The Swimming Lessons Chronicles

These past two weeks Cody has been taking swimming lessons at a local complex. Thanks to my mom, I have made it a priority that my children take swimming lessons, as she did with me and my siblings. But back in the day, my mom would usually drop me and my sibs off, have a private party for herself, and return to pick us up when the lessons were over. That is, if she remembered us. (now there's some stories for Flashback Friday)

Sadly times have changed, and multitudes of mothers are now subject to the torturous environment of enduring the allotted time of 45 minutes of swimming lessons. Obnoxious kids, humidity, sh-weaty

(yes I meant to write sh-weaty) unbearable heat, and wrestling a toddler, to top things off.

This is a picture of what my hair looked like, before I entered the swimming complex. Perfectly styled. Each hair in it's place, curled and then shellacked with a thick coat of ozone destroying hair spray.

Okay, maybe not so much. But you get the picture.

This is what I look like when I leave the complex. My hair is limp, and lacks the luster it once had, due to the stifling heat and humidity.

As I walk into the spectator seating area, (a.k.a. - hard as rock, back breaking bleachers) I knock over small children with my overstuffed diaper bag, filled with toys, do-dads, Gerber treats, and diapers. As I pass various mothers, we each give that, "all to knowing nod". You know, the one that says, "We feel your pain. We also had to slough ourselves and our children here to partake of this dreadful, daily event."

Once I am seated, the real fun begins. I prefer to sit at the very top of the hard as rock, back breaking bleachers, to partake of one of my favorite activities.... people watching.

Here's my kid! Through out the whole lesson, I try to calm Conner down by asking him, "Where's Cody? Where's Cody? There's Cody! Wave to Cody!" It works for 2 seconds. Desperate times, calls for desperate measures.

Here's a picture of just one of the hundreds of Gerber treats Conner managed to knock out of my hands and landing on the concrete floor.

Last week I was trying to feed him one and he flipped his hand upward, thus causing a Gerber treat to fly. It was like slow motion... and landed in the crack of the lady, and may I add, who was wearing very low shorts, sitting in front of me. She didn't even notice. There it was, a lonely star shaped, apple flavored snack, nestled in between a set of cheeks. I would have taken a picture, but there were too many witnesses. Imagine her surprise when she went to the bathroom or showered!

It seems like at every lesson, practice or game that I attend, there seems to be the same cast of characters that attend, also. One them being the wandering, intrusive child. In this case, his name is Elijah. You can hear his name being bellowed through out the facility, from his mother. "Eeeeee-li-jah! Eeeee-li-jah! Ee-li-jah, don't eat the Gerber treats off of the floor. Ee-li-jah don't the poke the nice lady's newborn baby in the eye. Ee-lijah don't throw the truck. It's not your truck!" Elijah's mother also dresses him in tights under his shorts. And they are little girl tights! I'm thinking they must be for health reasons, but I have yet to see any sort of bandages or casts. Surely his mother couldn't possibly think this was a fashion statement?

All heads turn when this, all too perfect, lady enters the spectator area. Her hair is perfect, her body is perfect and I'll bet ya she obtained this perfect body with the help of a couple of bags of silicone (if you know what I mean). She's always wearing cute, stylish clothes and matching wedges. She also has matching kids. Perfect. She makes me sick. However, I can't help but watch her try to pull the back of her shirt over the top of her pants, constantly to conceal her g's.

This lady bugs me. She saunters in, throws her stinky flip flops off and believe me.... they stink, takes a swig of her Mountain Dew, and then takes a nap. I think to myself, "Oh my word. If I can sit through 1 swimming lesson, she can too! Her back isn't breaking? She's not wrestling her un-enthused toddler? Gimme a break! Buck up lady!" (secretly I envy her)

On the second day of swimming lessons, I noticed a commotion about 20 minutes before the lesson was to end. Cody's swim teacher swam over to the other classes and instructed the other teachers to move their kids to the far end of the pool. His teacher then stepped out of the pool, talked to the manager and returned with a skimmer and a garbage can. "Did some one loose something important? Did someone just get sick in the pool?!?!?!" His teacher then put on his goggles, dove to the bottom of the pool and retrieved the mysterious item/s. The manager inspected the item/s closely then shook her head, as if she was discouraged. "Parents!" the manager yelled. "We are going to have to shut the pool down for the day. We have had a fecal emergency."

"That's just sick and wrong," I thought. Cody's swim teacher continued to dive to the bottom of the pool to retrieve the rest of the fecal remnants. That kid doesn't get paid enough.

(famous BabyRuth scene from the movie Caddyshack)

This picture shows the area of where the "fecal emergency" happened. Mid-lesson one of the kids from this class gets out of the pool and walks to the bleachers to have her mother take her to the bathroom, everyday. She must have a fiber rich diet, because the girl is as regular as Old Faithful.

On the day of the "great poop escape", she left the pool to have her mommy take her to the bathroom to go to the potty, because as in her words, "I really, really, really, really have to go poop mommy! (sniffle, sniffle) Mommy hurry, I'm going to poop in my suit!"

I'm not accusing the little girl of anything, but I'm just saying.... And hey, it happens to the best of us my little friend.

I have survived another summer of Swimming Lessons and Cody passed with flying colors! Can't wait to see what happens next season, when Conner will be walking and eating Cheerios off of the concrete floor, that do not belong to us.

It's my punk's birthday!

Eleven years ago, I became a mommy for the first time.

We found out that I was pregnant with Cody at a very difficult time in our lives.
Steve's mother was terminally ill at the time and I remember thinking that it wouldn't be a good time to be pregnant. On the day of Steve's mother's funeral I suspected I was pregnant. A few days later, my suspicions were confirmed. Turns out, he was an incredible blessing.

Don't I look lovely? I often remind Cody of how hard my pregnancy and labor was with him. Here's the proof. Yikes.

I gained around 65 pounds when I was pregnant with Cody. I was hoping he would be a 50 pound baby. He weighed 7 pounds, 10 ounces and was 20 and 3/4 inches long. That meant the rest of the weight was all chubb.

Love his big blue eyes!

This seems familiar...except the contents of the mess are different.

He's full of personality.

He has a great smile. He gets that from his momma. The kid is incapable of taking a bad picture!

He has been known to make a mess or two! Such as the time when he climbed on the counter and flooded my kitchen. That's blackmail material people!

He has a lot of determination.

My little punk is a brain. He didn't get that from his momma. He's a straight "A" student and his teachers have raved about his math skills. This is a picture of him at the Math and Science Olympiad. The Math and Science Olympiad! The only Olympiad I would ever have participated in, would be the "nose picker Olympiad", or something dumb like that.

He is a wonderful example.

He is the perfect big brother. I'm amazed at how much he loves his baby brother. He never complains when I ask him to check on Conner, get me a diaper, see what's in Conner's mouth, and watch Conner. The list goes on and on. I appreciate him sooooo much!

Happy Birthday Cody!