tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8547957529701131652026-10-13T02:56:40.421-07:00As far as I am concerned, as a new mom, I always have an excuse for doing it wrong...it's my first day. So what if I'm on my third time around? I'm learning first hand every kid is different, and there are plenty of crazy shenanigans left for us to get into!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger232125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-47460577762671582462013-11-06T08:47:00.002-08:002013-11-06T08:47:57.090-08:00

I wanted to write this post because I hear all the time, "life is not a fairy tale!" While that may be true as far as being able to sum up the vast majority of your years in a simple three-word phrase "happily ever after," the fact is that in a myriad of ways, life is very much like a fairy tale. Let me count the ways: In our house, it's more rare that someone isn't running out the door without

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-88525171812001097882013-11-05T12:04:00.000-08:002013-11-05T12:04:17.558-08:00

Since I wrote a post to whine and complain last month, I figure this month, I'll keep it more upbeat. I won't even mention the fact that while peeing in the potty is a huge success, we are still batting zero on the #2 front, and last week while we had company over for dinner Peyton managed to poop on the kitchen floor and then Sam stepped in it and started to shriek and cry. I just can't even

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-9073251708896416972013-10-22T10:52:00.002-07:002013-10-22T10:52:54.891-07:00

If you're wondering where I've been, I really have no excuse for the lack of posts. I've just been super busy with life. And in fact, right at this moment, I should be finishing (okay, starting and finishing) sewing my Marge Simpson dress before our first Halloween party on Saturday, but instead I'm on here making a little post. This is mainly because I'm super lazy and have zero idea how to make

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-64755444418701266572013-09-06T12:21:00.000-07:002013-09-06T12:21:05.685-07:00

At this point in time, Samantha has been in kindergarten for about a month. I was going to post on her first day, but I was busy moping/rejoicing, and I didn't want to jinx anything by saying she loved it in case she changed her mind on day 2.  After a month, she still loves it, and I love it too. She cried when she found out Labor Day was a three-day-weekend. When I realized she planned to

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-40358529067408493642013-08-13T09:24:00.000-07:002013-08-13T09:24:24.878-07:00

I went back to bootcamp yesterday. I'm pretty happy, after over a year of migraines and no working out through my not so pleasant pregnancy, to even be able to exercise, even though I am really, and I mean really, out of shape now. I never thought I'd be grateful to exercise, but perspective is an amazing thing. However, I am super sore after two days of workouts. Last night, I barked at Daniel

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-26103820059619788202013-06-12T15:57:00.000-07:002013-06-12T15:57:00.810-07:00

Last night, the baby only woke up only once at 3am to eat. She slept from 10:30pm to 7am, which means I pretty much did too. This morning, Sam came into my room while I was getting ready and made my bed, just to be nice. Then she did the same thing for her little brother, and after that, she got a bag and gathered up all the dirty diapers and took them to the garbage without being asked! When

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-72929181340133179462013-06-03T16:45:00.000-07:002013-06-03T16:45:16.377-07:00

Sometimes, I'm convinced any (or all) of my children could make one of those Dos Equis commercials: "I don't always accidentally grope you inappropriately, but when I do, it will be in public." "I don't always vomit, but when I do, it's without warning." "I don't always manage to pee around the diaper, but when I do, it will be when you're out of emergency clothing." "I don't always

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-80521468809770326632013-05-29T16:04:00.001-07:002013-05-29T16:04:18.109-07:00

Yesterday, I told Peyton it was time for quiet time upstairs. He didn't seem to have processed what I said, since he didn't mention quiet time, or head upstairs, but instead walked up to me and said "My turn hold the baby?" I thought that was so stinking sweet. He wants to hold the baby? I'm melting! So I went to get him situated and hand her off when I had an epiphany and added, "But, you know,

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-70247789780040941872013-05-27T13:51:00.001-07:002013-05-27T13:51:21.022-07:00

It seems to me that today, everyone wants to define your parenting style in a few quick words and stick you in a box. Are you an attachment parent?  A tiger mother? An anti-vaxxer? A helicopter parent? Homeschooler? Home birther? (I don't think birther is actually a word unless it's referring to people who are still trying to turn back time to 2008 and change the election, but I needed an

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-76547340927101309962013-05-15T14:29:00.001-07:002013-05-15T14:29:23.317-07:00

It's been almost a couple of weeks since Baby Presley arrived! Yea! We are now adjusting to life with three children, as well as the whole recovery process, and a newborn on our turf, but after that pregnancy put me through the ringer, I'm very happy to report that I feel great! Also, after already having a bit of wariness towards them, I have decided for sure that people who declare they "LOOOVE

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-1597002874756763302013-04-18T21:45:00.001-07:002013-04-18T21:45:36.352-07:00

Lately, Sam has been asking a ton of questions about how the baby gets out. She's extremely worried my stomach will explode the baby out, and I get that could seem like a legit fear at her age. Personally, I'm a little scared by the idea of a C-section myself, and that's hardy the baby "exploding" out, so I can only imagine how limited the options seem at 5. There's no exit!!! Now, these are all

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-42325506142179459962013-04-16T12:58:00.002-07:002013-04-16T12:58:21.412-07:00

Over the weekend, we took the opportunity to meet the new next-door neighbor who was moving in. While we were chatting with her and with her dad who came from out of town to help her move, my usually somewhat shy, face-hiding son decided these people were a-ok, and wouldn't stop talking to them. Then, he ran away for a while, came running back full tilt, yelled "Show 'em da belly, Mama!!!" and&

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-68010162937929094052013-04-10T09:42:00.000-07:002013-04-10T09:42:33.761-07:00

Last night, Peyton came to me and said "I go pee pees from da wee wee!" (Sidenote: Thanks so much to daddy for teaching him that classy phrase.) Then he pointed at the toilet. Anxious to follow his lead, I said "You want to go in the big potty?" and he said "Yes!" so we went in the bathroom. We aren't trying to officially potty train him with a couple of weeks until a new baby comes, but if he's

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-43436863351500105562013-04-08T12:20:00.001-07:002013-04-08T12:20:47.366-07:00

So, I bought this new little gadget to help me stay active after the baby comes, called a fitbit. One of the nutty little things it does is besides tracking steps and calories burned is to track my sleep. That would be awesome, if it wasn't so darn depressing. It tells you how long you slept and how many times you awakened during the night (like if you were tossing and turning and fidgeting, even

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-57934855697440791402013-03-22T10:23:00.002-07:002013-03-22T10:23:47.949-07:00

Daniel has caught himself a nasty cough and cold. In an effort to keep the germs confined so I don't catch it and cough out this baby prematurely, and to keep his coughing from waking me up during the precious few hours of sleep between pee breaks, he's been sleeping in Sam's room, and Sam's been sleeping either on an air mattress in the baby's room or in my bed. Whichever place strikes her fancy

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-29201248872199832032013-03-14T13:02:00.002-07:002013-03-14T13:02:56.843-07:00

Just now, I heard Peyton burst into tears in the hallway by Sam's door. He was yelling "I locked OUT! I locked out!!!" through his tears. Well, I'm hardly surprised by that turn of events. Sam was in there cleaning her room, and even at four (almost five!) she certainly understands the purgatory that is trying to clean with a two-year-old around. He seems to intuitively know how to most

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-13657710704794607732013-02-27T11:49:00.000-08:002013-02-27T11:49:16.741-08:00

So, I've kind of been cracking up at the ads Facebook has been pretending are "suggested posts" on my newsfeed. Why, yes, who better to make a post about a particular beer than a pregnant Mormon? I should tell all my friends to buy this product I don't use! Thanks, Facebook, you're the best at giving me "ideas" on what to post. I find fewer things more entertaining than when marketing

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-53294925345174289182013-02-12T16:07:00.003-08:002013-02-12T16:07:48.625-08:00

Since I just posted about how different my kids are from each other. I figured I'd cite an example I'd noticed lately, and that is in how my son and daughter approach medical care, particularly in regards to injuries. If Sam gets hurt, she has always needed a bunch of extra cuddles, some serious love from Mom through her tears, and band aids. So many band aids. Character band aids. Regular band

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-50439870079818295212013-02-06T15:39:00.000-08:002013-02-06T15:39:36.309-08:00

It's interesting to me what jumps out at you at particular times in your life. Lately, as I've been reading anything about parenting, I've noticed a lot of comments along the lines of "kids are just different from each other. I've been the same with both (or all three, or whatever) of my kids, but they handled things (potty training, sleep, school, etc) differently, and different approaches work

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-69126196994764264612013-02-04T15:08:00.001-08:002013-02-04T15:08:04.420-08:00

Today, I locked my bedroom door with Peyton in there with me so I could get ready for the day without him wandering through the house. This way, even if I was using the blow dryer or something and couldn't hear him, I knew he was close. After a few minutes of quiet, I said "Hey buddy, how you doing?" Radio silence. I know from mommy experience that when you know the kids are near, but they aren't

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-6277205412390111722013-01-24T12:41:00.001-08:002013-01-24T12:41:07.716-08:00

Yesterday, Sam spent some time playing outside. It's been very warm, even for AZ, so she was sitting in the shade of the porch drawing with sidewalk chalk when she reappeared by my side. I'd like to say that I was very patient and loving, but yesterday, I was trying to sew a baby shower gift with a busted down sewing machine, so things weren't going well at all. In other words, I was neither

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-60002879123669859752013-01-21T09:47:00.000-08:002013-01-21T09:47:29.294-08:00

Peyton spent most of last week sick as a dog. He was uncharacteristically cranky, he had a fever, and he just wanted to cuddle, when he wasn't trying to claw my eyes out. There was no telling when the loving cuddles would turn into eye clawing, so even though I love cuddles, I was more than a little flinchy when he would come over for some love. Seriously, he managed to draw blood from himself

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-50433782233975426772013-01-03T22:26:00.000-08:002013-01-03T22:26:45.282-08:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the differences between a first pregnancy and a third. It started when my official "Baby app" popped up a checklist and the item for week 14 said to "take a break from all the baby prep chores" and focus on being a couple with your partner. During my first pregnancy, I would have taken that advice very seriously, and forced myself to put aside what I was

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-24937837008215150472012-12-05T14:12:00.004-08:002012-12-05T14:12:40.496-08:00

Well, we went to the doc yesterday for our ultrasound. We were in the waiting room 15 minutes when they came out and said the doc had to suddenly run to the hospital and they'd have to reschedule. We were totally crushed. It was a bummer day. Luckily, they had an opening for today, because other than that, it would have been next week, and Sam had already expressed concern about being out of

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-854795752970113165.post-54195447865089205972012-12-03T07:27:00.000-08:002012-12-03T07:27:24.189-08:00

By now, our ultrasound to find out the gender of baby #3 is only a little ways away. Like 24 hours. Yea! I promised Sam she could go with us for the event, but I had a little inkling she might not be the politest of children if she doesn't get her "way" on the gender. She's been so very adamant about what she wants, and our attempts to tell her that either way will be fine have been met with eye

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0