Mom

My mother is a cross between Rambo, Martha Stewart, the Terminator (the character - NOT the governor.), and a younger and much less wrinkly Mother Teresa. 

She is the last one in bed every night and the first one up.  She has usually gone to the gym, showered, vacuumed the entire house, folded all the laundry, and gone scrapbook shopping before anyone else opens their eyes.  

She is the biggest perfectionist on. the. planet.  You don't even know. 

 

(My mom is the smallest girl - the 5th from the left.)

She cries at the drop of a hat.  Church, Family Home Evening, "The Price is Right," family prayer, an injured animal.  All the above.  More than once.

She is the definition of determined.  If she wants it, she will get it.  

She is concerned.  More than once I was forced out of a car stopped at an intersection to run and give a homeless person some food.  When I was a teenager, we saw some boys at a park picking on another boy.  She tromped over to them and gave them a butt kicking I don't think they'll ever forget.

She works harder than anyone else.  Seriously - name someone.  She works harder than them.

She's good at everything.  Literally - everything!  (Actually, I take that back.  She sucks at Nintendo.)

She is tough.  She ran marathons.  She survived a car accident that I am 100% convinced would have killed anyone else.  She gave birth to 6 children naturally.  She never, ever, ever gets tired.  I could keep going. 

She is simply amazing.  And the best, sweetest, most caring and thoughtful mother ever.  

Happy Mothers Day.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow.

I cut my hair.  

And by "cut," I mean butchered.   

A few weeks ago, I decided it was getting a little long.  

The plan was to cut off about an inch, add some layers, and shorten the bangs.  

Then Luke suggested ever so subtly that I should just chop it and donate it to Locks of Love.  

The idea sat in my head and festered until I could not in good conscience justify not doing it.  

So on Saturday, I gathered my courage, drove myself to the salon and showed the girl this picture:

I explained the whole concept of donating, told her that it had to be 10" cut from a ponytail, but that I still wanted it as long as she could possibly make it.  She assured me it would be as long as the picture above.  

I took a deep breath.  

And then she hacked it off.  

And then she hacked a little more.  

And then a little more. 

Until I looked like this:

(Before)

(After)

I'm seriously questioning if that girl was blind.

On the bright side: 

-I'll be saving a ton of money on conditioner

-Aubrey's got company

-I've always wondered how I would look with short hair.  I don't have to wonder anymore.

-It takes me 1/10 the time to get ready in the morning.

-I get to show you the 18 week baby bump without it being awkward.

-I won't have to cut it again for another year.

-And some little girl can have a wig that is 3 inches longer than it should be.  

Not a bad deal.

I've Got A Pocket Full of Sunshine

Lately, I've been carrying around a pocket full of weeds.

Aubrey thinks they are flowers and she thinks I love them.  

 (And I do.) 

Dr. Seuss's Easter: Part Three

Our Easter tradition (as maybe you've noted) 

is a Dr. Seuss tribute (and I'm quite devoted).

Without it, our holiday would be amiss

If you don't believe me, look at this (and this).

So again this year, without further ado,

Easter 2011 is coming to you!

We stood by the bunny and tried to be tough

But that is quite hard when the bunny's so gruff.

The picture makes him look cuddly and cute

But I'm telling you friends - he was kind of a brute!

So we gave up on that and hopped on a train

I'm not one for slang, but it was off the chain! 

 Next we dyed eggs which kind of scared mom

I'm going gangster again - but those things are the bomb!

 Brooklyn made some that were purple and blue

And dad even helped - oh yes, it is true.

 By the end of the night, our eggs were all bright. 

Didn't eat a single one, but that is all right.

 Next we were off on a mad Easter search

With all the dear friends who go with us to church.

We shivered and shook and our teeth they did clatter

But when you're getting candy, that sooo doesn't matter. 

 Our sweet little friend - whose been there from the start

Was at Easter again, and we're glad in our heart!

 Then it was time to go home and make nests

 Cause we hadn't had enough - as I'm sure you've guessed.

 The next morning was Easter - and what a surprise!

Brooklyn barfed on the floor and I hid my eyes.

She told us her tummy was feeling just fine,

so we carried on with a morning sublime.

The grand Easter bunny had left us a letter

and Brooklyn assured us - 100% better.

We smiled for pictures and tried to look happy

Which you just can't do when you're lighting's this crappy. 

So we found all those eggs, (and "Despicable Me")

and what was fore coming, we just didn't see.

 But we headed to church despite morning's drama

(And you know what's coming - I'm a terrible mama.)

In the middle of Sacrament, Brooklyn tapped on my arm

And she stared at me with a look of alarm.

Two seconds later, she started to puke

And that's when I practically jumped onto Luke.

I took her home and by the door she did sit

It was pretty heart-breaking, I must admit.

 She watched and she waited for them to appear

It was torture indeed, and it felt like a year.

But they did come back, much to her delight

I've never seen a child so excited and bright.

And at this Easter season, it gave me a thought:

When we're sad and alone, and distressed and distraught

Like Brooklyn was, as she sat there dejected

It's the Savior who comes when we've been neglected.

And the real Easter miracle that I've come to see

Is that He is real and He did it for me.

Happy Easter.

A Scene From My Front Windshield

 

Yesterday, I witnessed a scene from my front windshield.

  

It was an ordinary, and completely extraordinary, scene. 

It involved two little girls.  

One was wearing a loud zebra print jacket, the only pair of jeans left that still fit her, and her pink converse shoes that come untied every 9 minutes.  The other was in a hand-me-down coat, skinny jeans that only she could pull off, and twin pigtails in her newly boyish hair.

  It was the last few minutes of preschool and a rare treat for them both to be outside playing at the same time.  (And an even rarer treat for me to be there early enough to witness it.)

They ran up and down the grassy hill side-by-side.  They laughed and screamed.  They threw a ball to each other.  It dropped.  They dug in the sand together.  They went back to running.  And as they were running, their feet got tied up in each other and they both went tumbling down hard.  Immediately, they were at eachother's side examining injuries and checking for wounds.  And then they were up and off to the next adventure.  

Oblivious of anyone but themselves. 

After a few minutes, Aubrey's teacher called for all the younger kids to line up.  Aubrey headed over to her class, got half-way there, turned around and bolted back to Brooklyn.  They embraced each other in the sweetest hug and then gave each other a quick kiss, and then again, she was off.  

And I found myself sitting alone in my car wondering if there were two sisters in the world that love each other more than these two. 

And I decided that there could not possibly be.

When we got home, they got out of the car and headed inside together.  Brooklyn put her arm around Aubrey and said in a quiet voice that I almost couldn't hear, 

"The best thing is to be sisters." 

Agreed.

It's raining.

"The way I see it, 

if you want a rainbow,

sometimes 

you have to put up with 

the rain."

-Dolly Parton

L.A.Z.Y.

So, I would like to blog.  

But blogging takes effort.  

Also, blogging takes pictures.  

And taking pictures requires one to lift a camera.  

Which also takes effort.  

Therefore, I will not be blogging today. 

But you should know that in the last week I have: 

-Moved.  (Like... homes.)

-Made my own curtains

-Turned 27

-Went to Target 3 times

-Volunteered in both my girl's preschool classes

-Worked 13 hours

-Built an arc (OK - a paper plate with glued-on animals for Primary)

-Visited the library, the park, the zoo, the other park, and the other other park.

-Finished reading the worst book ever written.  (Life of Pi.  I want to punch the author.)

-Successfully got Aubrey's hair into mini-pigtails

-Slept very little.

I have no effort left.  

We'll try again next week.

Isn't It Ironic?

Lately, some strange things are happening. 

First, a few weeks ago I mentioned on this blog that we were quote: "Swept up in a crap tornado," and then a short while later we were almost literally swept up in a tornado!

This is a picture of the actual tornado that touched down near our home.  We didn't see it because we were hiding alone (no Luke) in our bathtub under a mattress while the tornado sirens were wailing and I was kissing my children goodbye.  

(That was a little morbid.  But it was scary and I hate tornadoes, okay?)

Then, a few days ago, I was talking to a friend and made the following comment: "I'm so glad Spring is finally here.  At least there's no more snow."  

The next morning I woke to this:

Are you flippin' kidding me?!

Oh, and about a week before HairGate, I told my good friend that "Aubrey would never cut hear own hair."  

I actually said those words.  

With my own mouth.

And we all know how that worked out.

 

Isn't it ironic? 

Aubrey and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

When I was young, my mother read me a book called, "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day."  It's a tale of an unfortunate child who meets one disaster after another in one day of never-ending heartbreak and tragedy.

This kid has nothing on Aubrey.

 

 

You've already seen the fruits of the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day...

(Reminder:)

...but here's how it all went down.  

I was working.  

It's all Luke's fault.  

I'll be mad until next Christmas when it fully grows back. 

Aubrey was coloring some pictures on the kitchen table and Luke was watching a movie with Brooklyn on the couch (about 10 feet away).  Aubrey's hair kept getting in her eyes and "bugging" her, so she took matters into her own hands.  

Literally.  

And with her two hands she chopped herself her very own mullet.  

(You know how they say "A picture is worth a thousand words?"  Well, I can think of ten thousand words for this one.

And they are all swear words.)

And that is how my curly haired princess turned into a member of Green Day.

The end.

It's A....

BOY!!!!!!!!