Forget You One Pound of M&M's!

I got the real stuff!

He did good, didn't he? He may have created a monster though. I never thought I was a flowers and chocolate kind of girl, but---okay, that's a lie, I've ALWAYS been a chocolate kind of girl, but oh the joy I felt when I set my eyes upon these flowers with the box of chocolates nestled up against them...

Off to smell the roses and gorge delicately taste only a small sampling of chocolates...

And I mean this lovingly...

You know you are confident in your position as a very good friend to me, if you can send an anniversary card (to me and my husband) that says, "I'm glad you didn't take my advice and dump him..."

I have good friends. And they make me laugh too. Thanks Breitmama!

Tomorrow is 5 years for me and Big J. He is in LA and I am in Texas. I won't get to spend my anniversary with the love of my life, but I will get to spend it with our three little loves. And J's mother. So, that ought to be good. Maybe I'll throw in a pound of peanut M&M's and make it like a new kind of anniversary trifecta.

To commemorate this milestone,
The evolution of J and Ang:
7 years ago in June, we met.














Time has changed us both, don't you think?

5 years ago in June, we were married

Four years ago in June I had just gotten rid of the first of:

Three years ago in June we were doing a 4 month internship in Rexburg, Idaho. This was exactly 10 years after I left there, finishing my first year of college. This time, when I went back, I totally let a boy past the living room. And sometimes even into my bedroom. And I have no idea when curfew was, but I am certain that I was passed out a good 4 hours before it came along. Also, Taco Time across the street from our apartment burned down one night. We watched it happen. Some guys tried banging on the door to tell the employees their restuarant was on fire but the employees were all, "Only 3 packets of hot sauce per burrito---AND WE'RE CLOSED."

Look how innocent and young and free we look. Family pictures were within the realm of possible three short years ago.

Two years ago in June, J had just completed his degree. It only took one mission, one business venture, one wife, two kids, and ten years to complete. Avee was not quite 3 months old but was well established by then as the ruler of our household.

One year ago in June we were surviving our first Texas summer, and falling in love with Texas. And we talked about all the things we would accomplish since we weren't going to have another baby for a while. We had a one year old who knew no limits and a three year old who loved trains and still needed naps. J was entering his last year of 20's. I was exiting my first year of 30's. So unfair.

















This year in June, we did this:

And J spends his free time doing this:

It's been a good ride.

Probably Not What The Scripture Actually Means...

You know, we are supposed to be like little children. And since I spend my days with the smallest of them, I have chance to observe many of the things they do. I can't help but think I would be contributing a lot to society to share some of those things.

A few of these things I just don't see my other adult friends doing, and perhaps that's something that needs to change.

If you feel gassy or feel like you need a little extra help going to the bathroom. Try yelling it out. It doesn't have to be angry or distraught yelling, just a good hearty yell. Works for Danyo.

If you want to stay up later where the big people are and the lights are still on, think of the most unique, un-fixable problem and then wander out with your belly button showing and your pajama bottoms not quite covering what they are intended to and report your problem. Even if the big people who are there to solve all your problems start laughing and send you back to the dark, boring, room where your younger sister is saying "SHH!" for no reason, it will buy you some time in the light, grown-up world. Totally worth it. "There's blood under my skin, I think it's coming out of my bones, it's really bad" is a problem that works for Bo.

If the Chocolate-Keeper says no "shock-wet" until after lunch/dinner---go find the foot high stool that the Chocolate-Keeper stupidly bought at Ikea and get it yourself. From on top of the refrigerator. Because Diana Ross is right, ain't no mountain or cupboard high enough. Even when you are two.

Announce every time you have to go to the bathroom. Or have just gone. Wherever that is.

Define the rules of your world by your most recent obsession. "Karate Kid doesn't wear underwear" or "Spiderman's mom doesn't kiss him. He doesn't even have a mom. And he doesn't have to be nice to his sister. Ever. He doesn't even have a sister."

Within 10 minutes of doing something totally embarrassing like, laying on the floor, kicking and screaming, or flopping across the living room like a jelly-fish, whining, on your way to a time-out---totally act like it never happened and not be an ounce embarrassed.

When the grownups who take care of you say "Let's go to _______'s house" and you know he is a cute, older, 5 year old man, remember the two most important things, clean underwear and pretty hair. "Uh-oh, I need cween dipoh! UH-OH!!! DO MY HAIR!"

When your mom catches you unfolding and flinging around laundry she just washed and folded while simultaneously nursing a baby and she starts to yell at you for making twice as much work for her and whatever else is annoying her at that moment, bug out your eyes and start shaking your entire body like you are freezing cold because it's a totally weird response and it will make her laugh and kind of feel bad for yelling about dumb ol' laundry anyway.

If you feel like doing something "naughty" just repeat what you know the grownup in your life will say when they catch you, while you are doing it. Sort of braces you for the blow, while you still indulge in some naughtiness.

Hover around the toilet anytime someone is using it just for a chance at the quick thrill of flushing.

Throw yourself on the floor while half-naked and wail for 6.5 minutes if you have a sneaky, hovering sister who flushes the toilet before you can, right after you've used it.

Let everything be made better by the promise that Dad will be home at 1.

Repeat anything you say 7 times. Even if you are totally being listened and responded to.

Believe that kisses and bandaids really do make everything better.

Tell the secret of your super spiderman dive and not holding your breath under water to the newborn because he can't repeat it for a long long long long long time. All he ever says is crying and no one even understands him when he's doing that.

Manage to be impossibly perfect and precious even when all you do is poop, squirm, sleep, suck, and occasionally yell for cleansing purposes.

And probably most importantly: Within minutes of being the brunt of a grownup's frustration/exhaustion/stupidity when you are just being yourself, forgive her. Completely. So completely that you think nothing of climbing on her lap and snuggling her because you haven't the slightest inclination to hold a grudge. And because you trust in the goodness of others and without knowing it, trust that even grownups are just doing the best they can.

My Little Go-Go

Go-Going on a walk

97 degrees, and these are the shoes she insists on wearing.

It's My Prerogative

"You aren't going to say anything like, bad about him, are you?"
"Uhhhhhh, no. I guess not."

J sat next to B0bby Br0wn's dad last week on his flight from LA. Bobby sat in front of them with his girlfriend. On the way home from the airport, I got to hear some of the highlights of J's conversation with, whom he affectionately calls, "Papa Brown."

Some people's claim to fame is sitting next to famous people. Or the father's of famous people. My claim to fame is being married to someone like J. Who doesn't recognize famous people. And then probably couldn't care less when he finds out he's sitting by/talking to one.

He really liked Papa Brown and talked to him the entire trip.

My two favorite highlights of the conversation.

When he was finally told who Bobby was, J leaned forward and pointed to the woman sitting next to BB and said, "So, is that Whitney?"

Later he and Papa Brown were talking about who he knew in "Hollywood" or, LA. Michael Jackson's name came up and then J asked about OJ---if Papa Brown knew him. Yes, he does know him. "So, is he guilty?"

I got a pretty big kick out that. Turns out, according to Papa, he is in fact not guilty.

So there you have it.

Can I Get An Amen?

I have a confession.

I don't really care for, oh, how do you say it---the wearing of religion on one's sleeve. Or bumper. Or shirt. I appreciate a person's devotion and dedication, but bumper stickers that say, "Honk for Jesus" or even the basic "Jesus loves you" kind of bug me. I don't get worked up about it because clearly they do it for some people, but they do make me roll my eyes a little...

So, the other day I was trolling the aisles of Walsmart I passed a guy wearing a shirt that said, "Jesus Loves You" and I rolled my eyes. Ever so subtly.

Later I happened to pass him again in another aisle. This time there weren't stacks and stacks of Double Chocolate Oreo Cookies to distract me and I saw his shirt in its entirety. Below the proclamation of Jesus' love for every stranger he passed, it read, "(BUT I'M HIS FAVORITE)"

Now that is some religion I could slap on my bumper...

Happy Flag Day Y'all

My kids are going stir crazy. Kind of. And I feel a little guilty, but there's little to nothing I can do about it. It's so hot during the day, our activities are limited. I need to find something for Bo to do besides riding our gliding rocker like a bucking bronco and webbing Aves randomly throughout the day. Any ideas?

Today my mom took the kids swimming. She didn't want to pack a swimsuit. But she did. She didn't want to put one on and go to the pool. But she did. I realized as she walked out the door with my kids, who were ecstatic to be going swimming, that moms never stop doing things they don't want to do, if it makes their kids happy. Even if their kids are 31 years old with three kids of her own.

THREE KIDS!?! What the!?!?! How did THAT happen!?!?!

Today I had to meet with a lactation consultant. By choice. I really never thought I would utter or type those words in my lifetime. The woman was so helpful I wanted to cry. My perfect little baby has one flaw and it may have been corrected today. Seriously, you have never seen a more perfect newborn. While I was getting my consultation, a young girl came in with her four week old baby. Named Av3ry. She was screeching incessantly---the baby, not the mom---and I thought "what's in a name?" I lived that for 4 months with my own little Av3ry screeching incessantly. Maybe that's why I think baby Danyo is so perfect---he can barely even muster up a cry that isn't absolutely adorable when he's hungry. Try to make that sentence make sense.

I feel like I should post, but as you can see, I'm lacking for things of interest or importance.

Also, I have to post pictures for my friend who is so dear to me and I am so dear to her, she skims my blog for pictures and when there aren't any, calls to yell at me. Skims. Can you believe that?

So, here's the pictures Jen. You lame butt.

Oh yeah, yesterday Bo had a "scuffle" at McDonald's playland. My friend came and took the two kids for TWO HOURS. Some kid, a year or two older than him, told him that he was "totally not awesome." It devastated Bo. He responded to the boy with a swift kick, apparently. Bo then sat on my friend's lap and cried for 10 minutes. The whole thing makes me kind of sad---my baby being exposed to bullying. But it also is funny. A, because Bo kicked the kid, so at least he knows not to take other people's crap. And while I did lecture him on hurting other children, I am glad he didn't go cower in a corner and let the bully get the best of him. He cowered on Amy's lap after he kicked the kid. And b, because "totally not awesome" is just a hysterical insult to me.

Anyway, the best part was, that night during prayers, Bo included, "And please bless that we never go to McDonald's again and see that boy." I feel like that is a prayer that just might be answered.

Looking remarkably identical to his big brother, even though in real life he doesn't that much.

The only thing he can truthfully put on his resume