dude.

I just turned a corner. An ugly one. And I'm searching for a better corner to turn. Cos this one, it involves grinchy mommy back pain kind of feelings. I want to whimper at the thought of bending over to pick up that fallen ice cube. Front load washer? I fuh-ree-king hate you. Packing in the 30 pound kid into the car- wait aren't you old enough to stay home alone yet? Getting a pot out of a bottom cabinet - I get stuck in the squatting position for about 5 minutes. Until I can get Zane to push me back upright while I grip onto surrounding counter tops. Diaper changes for Evan on the floor require about 30 minutes start to finish. Most of that time is getting him to come back to me once he escapes my grip. And the rest is figuring out how to get myself back up off the floor. Only to find him ripping the dry diaper off himself 5 minutes later.

But! It's okay because my friend Kristy is going to win this awesome bike and give me a ride in it and then I can rest my back for a little bit. I'll bring along some big pillows with some gin and tonic. I mean gingerale. Help her out by going to her site and clicking on her sidebar ad so she can win. And I can get a ride. Maybe even be the first ever to give birth in the bucket of a Madsen bike!

Let's make history people. Help a sister out.

i never really liked short stories

I'm at that point in pregnancy when the doctor visits are weekly. For your entire pregnancy you begin the visit with a trip to the restroom where you leave a deposit of urine on the counter for them in a sterile clear cup with lid. It always reminds me of drug testing for a new job and I get really nervous when another patient's specimen is sitting on the counter when I enter the bathroom. I write my name EXTRA careful and large on the label and place it as far apart from the other as I can. You know, since there is a rash of pregnant druggies out there switching up samples.

Once I entered the restroom and the prior patient's sample was shockingly dark. I couldn't stop worrying about this other mother. Why was her pee so dark? Maybe she needs to drink more water? But it wasn't just really yellow, it was like brown. Brown pee! This concerned me. It was the kind of brown you would find in a beer. But not a pale ale. More like a dark Irish beer, say perhaps Guinness. She had Guinness pee. I had to restrain myself from entering the waiting room to find her and make sure she knew this wasn't normal.

I wanted to sheepishly peek my head out, make my announcement: Excuse me everyone can I have your attention. Someone left a cup of suuuuper dark pee in there. I just need to let you know it's not normal and I'm worried about you so please look into the matter. I hope everything is okay with you and your bladder and body. Thank you! And then I would sneak back into the restroom to finish my own business.

Only! There was another week something happened that has never happened in the 8+ months I have been leaving pee in a cup. Something I never considered would happen. I got stage fright. Not a single drop. Nothing. How could this be?! I twisted around trying to shake my belly and bend over my bladder to get something, anything into this friggin cup. To no avail.

So I waited. And tried to think of waterfalls. Flushed the toilet 12 times. Ran the water in the sink. Twisted around again. Did a little jumping in circles dance to shake it down. Nothing. Then people start trying to come into the bathroom. The handle must have been jiggled about a dozen times. Other pregnant women wanting to leave their samples. Maybe a nurse wanting to collect. I even heard a mother with a young boy- I could just imagine him freshly potty trained eager to use the potty while I sat with my empty cup. Good thing there wasn't any pressure added to the situation. Such as the line forming in the hallway waiting for me while I failed to perform. I think 20 minutes passed before I finally gave up and faced the music. Sorry nurse, the well is dry today. What happens now? Do they send me home? Put an F on my chart? It was like that feeling when you didn't study for a test. Why oh why wasn't there another sample I could 'borrow' from this week?! I might have even considered sharing the tragically dark pee.

bangs

Denise was my friend in the apartment across from ours. She was probably one of my very first friends stored in my memory bank. I was five years old. She lived with her mom. I remember her mom spoke differently, but I did not know country she was from. I remember her feeding Denise an open piece of bread with melted cheese on it. That seemed odd to me, but I figured that was what they did in her mother's country.

Once my mom said I could go to the grocery store with Denise and her mom. Denise said she always rode under the basket below the shopping cart and it was fun. I knew my mom would never let me, but I climbed under with her anyway. As her mother spun the cart around aisles and down the meat department I threw up orange chunks all over the floor. I never had the desire to ride under the shopping cart again. They also never invited me on their grocery shopping excursions again.

Another time I was playing at Denise's house. I told her I needed to get home before dinner time because my mother would be cutting my bangs. She told me she had scissors, that she was six, and she cut bangs all the time! I thought it would be nice for my mom to not have to do it, she hated to cut my bangs. She said it was so hard to get them straight. I let her cut my bangs, Denise was pleased with her work. We played some more and then I went home for dinner. Completely forgetting about my newly cut bangs.

I walked into our door wondering what was for dinner and trying hard to not forget about how they make cheese sandwiches in other countries so I could tell my mom about it. Once I walked in the whole room burst into laughter. I looked all around me, I had no idea what the joke was I missed out on. My mom couldn't get her laugh under control for a few minutes, but immediately came over to me and through her giggling she wiped away a few tears she asked me who cut my bangs.

It was totally a Ramona Quimby Moment. I told her the story, totally stressed out I was going to get in trouble. I remember telling everyone "She said she was six! Six year olds know how to cut bangs! She does it all the time!" It made perfect sense to me, why would my friend lie to me?


The best part, the next day would be picture day. My mom tried to even them out a little, but there wasn't much left. She made sure I would wear the prettiest dress I had and assured me they would grow out. That it wasn't a big deal. So that was how I decided to feel about it.


That day I learned some lessons. Six year olds really don't know how to cut bangs very well, afterall. Not every friend is going to be honest even if you would never ever lie to them in your whole life. And you know, some situations really are so ridiculous you have to laugh about it. I love that about my mom, she never really got mad at me about anything. She was good about finding the humor in situations and not making a big deal about it. Was never one to scream about spilled milk. I enjoy that at times I can laugh at myself instead of getting to upset. And I am working on laughing with my children instead of getting too upset more often.



My favorite memories of my mom are the ones where we are laughing together.


Thanks mom for all you have always done taking care of me and laughing with me. I can't believe we were in the hospital this week under the impression birth was a go with Mike in London. I can't think of anyone else I would want by my side in his absence. Although I'm glad it was a false alarm so Mike can be there for the birth, I really appreciated being excited with you and having that time together. Thanks for running that red light for me. And trying to fix my bangs that day. And everything before that, between those two times, and whatever comes next. You're the best!

rump shaker

I don't have my Liz Baby Girl Clothing Rules quite together yet (as some have asked out of curiosity). And I don't know that I will have many as I do for my boys. But I do know that I hate it when I see a little girl of any age with a diaper exposed under a dress or skirt. It just looks icky to me.

So my first rule: always cute rump coverings when in skirt or dress.

This seems like it might be pretty easy as 'bloomers' {as I hear they are called} come paired with most skirts and dresses! But just in case they don't, I have this pretty little diaper cover-up waiting in the wings.

ollie

Hey guess what today is. Today is the day you can learn how to ollie from Tony Hawk via CNN.

Is this country great, or what?

Forget about swine flu and the economy- go out and try to ollie today. You can even come and borrow my board if you don't have one. We should have National Ollie Day. how fun would it be to see people lining the streets with skateboards trying tricks. It's best to try it out on gravel first or carpet holding on to something. Then move it to the pavement once you get a little more comfy.

I think 2009 needs to be the year I teach my oldest son how to ollie.

toddler beds

found here and here

Arizona: It makes you wish you had an air conditioner in your pants

Mostly I forget I grew up in this place. My routine and world circles around the town I live in, which is not a town I knew much about or spent any time in during the 22 years I was here before I left. So there was about a 10 year break and I'm back at such a different place in my life. A seasoned wife and mother. A Mormon of some tenure. A homeowner. An SUV driver (how did we age so rapidly from the carefree life of little responsibility?!). Since I have been back, there is rare occasion I cross into Old Life Territory.

Friday I met a up with a friend at a park I have much history with. It made me smile to pull up with my car/ tummy full of kids and realize how fleeting time seems to be.

I remember hot afternoons training with my cross country team back and forth across the fields at this park. Ending relays by pushing my toes into the hill at the end. That brutal little hill. The scent of the fresh cut grass always reminded me it was fall and time to retrain my muscles, to push them, to enjoy the sweat because it meant I was working hard.

I remember sitting under a tree at this park with a boy and listening to his hearbeat. And wishing upon a star in the dark. Now realizing that wish came true.

I rode down hills on skateboards with a friend at this park.

Stood with a boy in the rain one night on the bridge. Watching the water droplettes fall into the little stream. It was the night before I would leave to meet my father for the first time in 14 years.

My favorite memory of this park was when my mother had to collect me one night after she got a phone call from the police at 1am. Four of us girls met up with four new to us boys. Apparently, Gilbert was pretty serious about its curfew rules. I wish it was a better story with more scandal, but that was it. A bunch of girls probably wearing too much perfume planning to go to a club later that night and a bunch of nerdy boys in polos that weren't even worth getting grounded for.

I remember going to this park with Mike, he wouldn't let me pay for the bread for the ducks. I think we got some of that fresh cut grass in our hair rolling around together in it while we kissed.

Many years later, during a visit from NY, I remember pushing my niece up a grassy hill in her wheelchair at this park. I remember her soft hair in the breeze and her tiny, delightful giggle. And my sister shouting 'don't let her tip over!' My mom was with us and we all had a lot of fun that day. I wish my sister and her family lived here now so we could have those kind of times some more.

And Friday I got to watch my own kids feed ducks and run around on the hills while my baby girl kicked in my tummy at this same park. It all looks a lot different from this part of life. The trees are bigger. I never noticed them blossoming before. The grass not as soft as I remember, much more crunchy. It made me miss the parks in California. It was kind of neat to visit a famliar place again and remember I'm kind of home. Or at least in a place that I didn't know I would leave for so long and the good it did me to step away and grow.

.

I made a new friend. And she just left from our first play date. I'm good at being interested in new (and known) people, I am not so good at making plans to spend time with them for some reason. So I was happy to have committed to and followed through with a play date. Every week I make a list of friends I want to see or have Zane spent time with, but somehow I never make it enough of a priority and we end up with a spontaneous park day without friends.

So this new friend, the more and more I come to learn of her and her life, the more interesting she becomes. It's fascinating to me the variety of benefits that come from having
friends. Some become emotional support systems for a hard day. Some always have a great story to make you laugh. Some have great teaching/ educational ideas for children. Some are spiritual beacons. Some are wildly positive and uplifting just to be around. I'm glad I learned an important lesson in my mid 20's that no one can be all of this in one person. In addition to the lesson that you can never have too many friends, and that there is almost always something to learn from someone else.

So now I get to remember that it's not a game of weighing how much I offer back in exchange for what I gain. Just keep befriending and being who you are. Don't worry about the scale of expert levels you each have on your talents list, it may never feel perfectly equal. And it doesn't have to be. Just as I cannot expect another person to be everything, I also cannot expect that of myself.

The thing I love about my new friend is I got to meet her at a time in my life that I am really wanting to feed my family better. I have been thinking of resources to collect for reading material and discussion. And as it turns out, she is incredibly educated and passionate about this area of her life. She fills me with inspiration already and has me thinking about things I wasn't thinking about yesterday. Things I want to do to better nourish the bodies of my family and in turn, their minds. I don't mean just food pyramid wellness, but more in-depth discussion about pesticides and other environmental concerns I have been really lazy about learning.

I really do think we bump into people at times in our lives that we need to. That's it's not an accident.

journaling my inspiration

Pretend it's not a recession and imagine how awesome this crib is. The color combo of the crib is a newer to me look I really like. I found this off the Skip*Hop site looking at their bedding. If I were in the market for a new crib, I would shoot for this look. The bedding is cool, but not what I am looking for.

Here is another sample of this look of furniture I like from The Amy Coe Westport Collection. Not crazy about the colors of the nursery in the photo but love the furniture.

I like this bedding below from Pottery Barn Kids. Still working out my color scheme desire. I think it would look nice with pale pink matte walls and another pale color of artwork framed on the wall. I imagine having my own photo shoot with some of those pale sweet tart suckers that are not perfectly round, a little chalky. It would be easy to go with a round theme for decoration.

the fam

For Family Home Evening we each had to draw a picture of something we are thankful for. Zane drew the family. Without any prompting or direction, he thought of that on his own. I thought that was pretty cool. So here is our family. In the order he drew us:

Zane, Evan, Daddy, Mommy, and the little baby sister in mom's tummy.

I'm glad to see he drew smiles on our faces. Well, except Evan for some reason.

Probably because I was yelling at him for eating crayons.

I know, I was just thinking the same thing. Way to invite The Spirit, MOM.