I'll Blog After I Finish Cleaning Up Pumpkin Guts

This weekend was semi-eventful. We went to see Puss and Boots, which was cute. We went to Target, which I always love. Saturday night we went to a Trunk or Treat, pictures of Halloween costumes soon to come, cause my ladies are dressing up again tonight to Trick or Treat, and hopefully we'll get more candy.

These things were all fun, but they were brought down a little cause Alana was sick. She had some weird virus that just makes you really tired and feverish for like a day, then the next day you feel okay again. I know she really didn't feel good cause we went to Claire's at the mall, and she loves all jewelry, and I said she could get more Halloween accessories, but she opted out. That's proof of a sick Alana. Ava had it last week, but she had the sense not to get sick on a day when we were getting candy and going to the movies. Despite Alana's fatigue, she was still insistent on going places. She didn't start to feel really tired till we were already in Sierra Vista anyway, so by then if we hadn't gone to the movie she would've been sad. So we went to everything, and the movie was fun, cause she didn't have to walk around. But the Trunk or Treat she went to like 3 cars then wanted to sit down, it didn't help that the lines were soooo long. So she sat at my sister's truck while I took Ava around to a couple more, but the lines were super long, and she only has the patience of a two year old, so she didn't end up with much candy. They get a do-over tonight since its actual Halloween, but they don't need tons of candy anyway, and Ava doesn't like any candy that's not chocolate. Alana actually ended up with more candy, cause her cousin Jayden did his good deed for the day and shared some of his with her. Who says chivalry is dead?

Sunday everyone was well, so we carved pumpkins. Well, the girls and I did, cause David had to do important things like watch football/do homework. I don't know how football helps you do homework, but I'm not a man. Alana cleaned out her entire pumpkin herself, she's a champ. Then she and Ava drew faces on them for me to carve. Alana's was a face, with a mustache, Ava's was random two year old drawings, so I carved a cat. After my three pumpkins were carved, I deemed myself a master pumpkin carver and called it a day for Halloween festivities. Now we just have to Trick or Treat and dress up one more time, then we'll call it a year and continue our countdown to Thanksgiving and our Christmas Disneyland trip.

Ava was designing her pumpkin. Its a masterpiece.

Before cutting them open, while Ava would still touch it.

Alana drew a lovely face, then signed her name. She's a genius.

You can barely see Alana's candy corn earrings, she's so festive.

After the pumpkins were "designed" and cleaned, but before they were carved.

I also "baked" some cookies. Delicious.

She's such a good helper, she cleaned out her whole pumpkin herself. Not all those guts came out of her's though, I had a big slimy pumpkin. David took ones of these pics, that's why there's a soda in the background. Wanna Fanta?

My masterpieces.

Nice and Bratty, Just the Way I Like 'Em

This lady. This lady. She has an attitude. And she knows how to use it. To her advantage. Stubborn and sweet, cute and bratty, she is my lovable and spunky two year old. This bratty attitude lady is mastering a new skill, one that frees her from the sister who speaks for her. Brace yourselves: the brat can talk.

Ava's status as a second born put her a little behind in talking, because Alana is always answering questions for her. Ava do you want a cookie? Alana says yes. Ava do you want to watch Peppa Pig? Alana says yes. Alana is Ava's lawyer, and Ava has the right to remain silent.

The past few weeks though, my lady has found her voice. She says Peppa (as is Peppa Pig), ham, cookie, tea, daddy & mommy (which she has said forever), and a handful of other words. Words that serve a purpose for her. She focuses on foods and TV, so she can always get her way, cause we know what she wants. She walks around yelling HAM! at full volume, and in Subway the other day she probably said ham no less than 30 times. Ham, ham, ham!

Ham is in the top two words, but first place has to go to NO! Not just regular no, no with an attitude. You wanna leave the playground soon? No. You wanna watch something other than Peppa Pig? No, Peppa. Are you bratty? No. All these no answers are followed by a mad face, very intimidating.

Ava's safety net for her bratty NO! is her cute mad face. Although frightening and intimidating, it is cute. Cute isn't her intention, just a side effect. NO! is cute & bratty, but Ava is serious when she says it. She has an opinion! Take her seriously! I can't help but laugh sometimes though, cause NO! is clearly not the right answer, its just the cutest one.

YES I ALWAYS TALK THIS LOUD

In my family being loud has its own definition. A Kloos Voice. This is anytime when you are speaking loud, especially when its not necessarily socially appropriate. Like my grandpa loudly commenting on the size of Julia Roberts' boobs when watching Erin Brockovich in a movie theater. Her boobs aren't that big in real life!  No they aren't, but that could've easily been whispered.

I suffer from chronic Kloos Voice, although the ten years that I haven't lived with my family have allowed me to bring my condition under control. I can talk at a normal volume, in most average situations. I'm even the voice of reason when my loud children are screaming, or when my loud husband is yelling at the Cowboys on TV. I can control my own personal volume, enough to pass for a person who doesn't suffer from Kloos Voice. I no longer loudly interject WE SHOULD USE THE CARPOOL LANE on trips. Of course, I also no longer listen to my generic discman on student council field trips. So maybe I just lack opportunities for high volume.

As able as I am to control the volume of my voice in my normal, day-to-day life, if I am around my family I suffer a relapse. Sunday I was talking to both of my brothers, who also share my Kloos Voice condition, and I don't know which of us was the loudest in the conversation. Probably Josh, but he has the worst case of Kloos Voice. He's not always the loudest, but he is close. I do know that its a good thing that no babies were sleeping nearby, cause our loud Kloos Voices would've woken them up for sure. My sister seems to have overcome her Kloos Voice, and I don't know how she did it. She must have more determination than the rest of us. Maybe her's wasn't as severe. Either way, her voice volume is always appropriate for the situation. Mine isn't.

I'm positive that Kloos Voice is hereditary. My grandpa has it. He passed it on to my dad. I hold the phone approximately 6 inches from my head when my dad is on the other end, because any closer could cause hearing loss. I have it. I've learned to control it, but its still there. My brothers have it. And now, my kids have it. Ava doesn't talk much yet, she just says ham, tea, cookies, Peppa (as in Peppa Pig). Her volume is normal, but she's still a baby. She hasn't grown into her voice yet. It takes some time for the Kloos Voice to develop. Alana, though, Alana has Kloos Voice. Her Kloos Voice is loud, and its possible that its louder than mine.

Five year olds don't always know when its socially appropriate to be loud, and Alana is no exception. She runs through the house screaming at the top of her lungs, and nothing can be done to quiet her. I think an intervention is the next step. Headphones worsen the Kloos Voice, as I learned in high school by talking loudly several times while listening to the Wallflowers on a field trip. Alana's Kloos Voice comes out the most when she is listening to her iPod, lost in the Mulan soundtrack. CAN YOU GET ME A GLASS OF WATER? AND SOME APPLE JACKS? AVA! LEAVE ME ALONE! I WANNA WATCH PEPPA PIG PLEASE! Gives me a headache just thinking of it. The Kloos voice is her burden to bear now, and maybe she'll learn to turn down her iPod before talking, before its too late.

Over the past 29 years I have been accumulating wisdom. With this wisdom comes knowing when using my Kloos Voice is appropriate, when its tolerated but only slightly appropriate, and when its definitely not. Appropriate: at a sporting event when cheering for your team, at a concert (like rock or pop, probably not classical music or the opera or something where you should be quiet and respectful), when protesting something? (I've never done this but volume would probably help), when searching for a lost dog/person/whatever, when performing a concert (if you're the singer), when really trying to get a point across, when in the drive thru of a restaurant and there is a diesel behind you. Tolerated but only slightly appropriate: when talking to your brothers and you all have a Kloos Voice so the longer the conversation the more the volume of your voice increases, at Target/Walmart when telling your kids to stop picking up stupid cheap impulse buy crap from next to the register, when trying to find your chapstick and you're pretty sure one of your devil children hid it from you, when complaining that you've been up since 7 am with a two year old while everybody else sleeps till 9. Definitely not appropriate: when at work at any type of job that involves customer service and a customer complains on a comment card that you and a coworker were talking too loudly about the movie Shrek (stupid lady can't appreciate a cinematic masterpiece), in a movie theater, in church (including any wedding, funeral, baptism), in a public bathroom when you're a little kid and asking your mom too many personal questions, at a library, when calling a voice activated automated customer service center phone number that gets confused if you even cough when the robot is talking and asks I'm sorry I didn't get that, can you repeat?, anywhere that you need to be reverent or respectful.

Learning to live with a Kloos Voice is a work in progress, and it will never go away. I've got mine under control, now I just have to get Alana to learn to speak at a normal volume. One day at a time.

The Birthday Grinch Strikes Again

Yesterday was David's birthday, so Tuesday I thought I'd get ahead of the game and make his cake. After it was done I put it into a carrier and into the fridge. Check that off my to-do list forever. Make a cake for David's 32nd birthday. I will never have to do that again. Right?

Wrong. Cause then this happened.

Cause when you have a two year old who can open the fridge, and that same two year old really likes cake, you've got a dangerous situation on your hands.

 The first cake was inedible. Reduced to crumbs. So I was forced to make a re-do birthday cake. Angel food, cause that's what David likes. Take that birthday grinch, you can't ruin the second cake, cause I put it where you can't reach it. Ha!

 I didn't have 32 candles, and that's kind of a fire hazard, so 5 candles plus some numbers worked instead. Maybe that was part of the birthday grinch's evil plan?

Then Alana sang Happy Birthday, while Ava grunted and "sang" along. Then we had spaghetti and meatballs, after the cake. Cause some people didn't want to get dirty before the picture.

Happy birthday David! Even if I had to make 2 cakes.

Its Never Too Early for a Countdown

I realize that it's October 11th. I'm very aware of that. It's one day till David's birthday. He'll be 32, he's old! I'm not really hyped about that, cause hello, its not my birthday. We'll have some cake and move on with our lives. I think he and I can both agree that Disneyland is more exciting than a birthday. It's 21 days till Halloween, and I do love dressing my girls up in costumes then eating their candy after they go to bed. Good times.

Those things are fine and fun. Then October will be over with. In November I always look forward to Thanksgiving. An entire day built around eating and watching TV, that's my kind of holiday. Add in the bonus that half of the food is made from pumpkin and I'm sold, cause I love any excuse to eat pumpkin. Thanksgiving is fun, but I never count down to the days till it. I'm not all excited and writing 10 days till Thanksgiving! on my calendar.

I do have a countdown posted on my calendar though. An eagerly anticipated event that will occur in 55 days. 55 days isn't too early for a countdown, especially since its been there since 65 days and I've been counting down for even longer. My countdown leads to another trip to Disneyland. Yes, you read that correctly. I really have a problem, I just can't stop going to Disneyland. I guess its not really a problem for me, just with other people who are insanely jealous over the frequency at which we go to Disneyland.

We did just go to Disneyland in February. I didn't forget. But there are two main distinctions between these two trips: when you go in December they have awesome Christmas decorations and Santa & his reindeer and a Christmas parade and Christmas lights, and also Ava is not 18 months anymore, she is 2. I cannot explain the difference between taking an 18 month old to Disneyland and taking a 2 year old, who will almost be 2 1/2 by then. I cannot explain it to anyone who hasn't done both and lived to tell the tale.

The difference is like night & day. That almost year since our last trip has given Ava a little more time to grow up. She no longer sits in a high chair, she sits at the table with us. She is now willing to ride in the stroller. She looks at the camera and smiles. She will hold my hand and walk nicely next to me instead of running around like a crazy person. Those are all very big distinctions. Another one I can only hope she has made is not throwing up in the car after crying cause she wants out of her carseat and is mad. The smell of Funyun puke will forever be burned into my brain.

Yes, we are going on yet another vacation. And the day before David and I are going to the Cowboys/Cardinals game in Phoenix, and hopefully the Cowboys win or I'll be driving back with a depressed husband the day before vacation. Its exciting. I'm banking on reaching my fun quota for the month of December. I'm ready to meet the Disneyland version of Santa and his reindeer, ready to see a Christmas parade. Ready to drink a few vanilla lattes and have breakfast with Minnie Mouse. Only 55 more days!

Proof That One Time I Willingly Went to a Church

Yesterday something inconceivable happened: I willingly went to a church. Not church church, where they get all preachy and pray and stuff, cause I don't do that kind of church. Like a really old historical church in Tucson called San Xavier.

Its all historical and old and stuff, and I guess its one of those places where if you live near it you should go, just to say you have. Like Tombstone. Or the Grand Canyon. You know, touristy crap where there's lots of old ladies with nametags and random men who are there by themselves with a really expensive camera and a huge lens, just taking pictures of the building for an unknown purpose. Well, the Grand Canyon is actually really cool, just cause its so pretty, but its still boring cause there's not really anything to do there but hike or ride mules and I'm not really an outdoors mule riding kind of girl.

In reality San Xavier doesn't hold a lot of meaning to me, because I'm far from religious. Its a pretty old building and all, but at the end of the day its still a church which is filled with a lot of religious people lighting candles and way too many random people with pictures. The one selling point for me is that its on an indian reservation so there are about ten booths selling fry bread, which I happen to love, because hello people its fried dough covered in honey and powdered sugar! That was the highlight of my trip actually, because that's how my mind works. Good food = who cares what else happens cause I'm full of honey and powdered sugar and fried dough.

Now, photographic proof I went to a church one time.

My cute Ava. Its like she wants my to take her picture cause she is so cute.

Husband. Ava.

I got kinda bored so I took some pictures of the buildings. That's what boredom does to me.

They act like its so bright outside. They need sunglasses like me. I'm the cool one. And the bottom pic was taken by Alana. She's my prodigy.

Actual proof I was there.

Me and the sunglasses thief.

Not Pictured

My camera has returned to me. Yay! Hooray! Jump up and down with excitement and stuff! Hug a Fed Ex guy! Celebrate!

After a 3 week absence, that was preceded by 2 weeks of it not working correctly before I finally caved, I mailed it to Canon so they could fix it. I knew it would be cutting it close because Alana's birthday was coming up, which was why I waited to mail it in the first place when it was still functioning somewhat, but I was still optimistic that it would get back since they had almost 3 weeks to fix it.

Fast forward one and a half weeks after I mailed my camera, when I knew for a fact that they had received it because it was insured. They had no record of it. Couldn't locate it. Were in fact very snobby every time I inquired about it. I swear I only ever got the same snotty lady named Lakeesha each time I called. Finally, over a week after they received it, I got a vague email saying that they had evaluated it and were going to fix it. Expect it in 7 days. If that had actually happened it would've made it back in time for Alana's birthday. The vague email didn't say what the problem was, whether the battery and charger were working, whether I was just crazy and the camera actually worked.

Last Thursday, the 29th, Canon emailed me again saying the repair was done and the camera had been shipped. Expected arrival date: October 3rd. Two days after Alana's birthday party and one day after her actual birthday. Great timing, but at least it was on its way home to me. I used my sister's camera to take a couple pictures at her party, but it wasn't the same. It was weird to look at a screen again instead of thru a viewfinder. I missed my camera. Curse you Canon!

Finally on Monday morning I got it back. The official diagnosis was that the circuit board had become disconnected, which cut off the power supply. It was covered by the warranty, so they had to fix it, they just didn't have to do it quickly. Then I took like 50 pictures on Monday, since September was essentially a pictureless month. I let Alana redo her candle on her cake, cause it wouldn't light at the park and she needed to make a wish. I hoped she wished to go to Disneyland, although it wouldn't matter cause we're going in December anyway!

I'm really unsatisfied with Canon's customer service, since they had the camera for almost 2 weeks before they even acknowledged it and took forever to fix it and were kinda rude whenever I called them. But they fixed my camera and I have it back so let's just let bygones be bygones. Its old news.

My real issue was all the photo ops I missed. Besides the huge one of Alana's 5th birthday, I missed countless times when my girls were doing something cute, something priceless, or something that will be blackmail worthy in the future. On Sunday Alana wore a pink football jersey, a purple & green plaid skirt, black Halloween tights, and Halloween socks over the tights. It was a super classy outfit, very festive for her birthday. And I didn't get a picture of it. That really irritates me. Now I have to make up for lost time.

She was pretty insistent on a Barbie cake, and she talked her Nana into buying one.

This isn't even all of her presents, just the ones I fit into the frame. She also got a baseball bat that I wrapped all awesome so it was obvious that it was a bat, but she opened it before I got a picture. Just picture a bat, completely encased in polka dot paper, and imagine me trying to convince the kids it was a Doodle Bear.



We have to take a family pic. Its our duty to document our awesomeness. And David has to keep commenting on how good he thinks he looks in this picture. At least he's modest.



Birthday candle do-over. Lots of wishes were made.

My pretty five year old. I think she missed my camera too, cause she kept asking me to take her picture.



My bratty two year old, who is growing out her mullet. Its looking pretty sweet.



***This isn't intended to be a compare & contrast between point & shoot cameras and dSLR cameras, but it definitely makes me glad I got a new camera. Even if I didn't have it at Alana's party!

Five is Old and I'm Depressed

Today Alana is 5. I don't have much to say about it because I'm kind of in disbelief. That's a lie, I have plenty to say about it but it all makes me want to cry. Five is old. Five is old enough to start kindergarten. Tomorrow I'll be buying her a training bra, than she will get her drivers license and graduate from high school. That's how fast time is going!

We had a small party at the park yesterday, but I don't have any pictures cause they're on my sister's camera. Canon sent me an email Thursday saying they shipped my camera back and it should arrive Monday, just in time for me to miss her party and birthday. I'm pretty annoyed, but I guess I'll live. I'll make her a cupcake and let her blow out the candles again, since they wouldn't stay lit at the park yesterday and you can't make a wish without blowing out the candles.

She has been everything to me since she was born, cause that is what a first born does. They change your life and make you see what you didn't know you were missing. She's a contradiction everyday, sweet & sassy, girly and a little bit tomboy, obedient and defiant, a lover of Hershey's Cookies and Cream bars and broccoli, not together of course. She is a good big sister one minute, then they are engaged in a fierce pillow pet battle, then they like each other again. It's a vicious cycle of sibling rivalry.

Alana is excited to go to school next year, but I know Ava and I will miss her. She is always so excited for new things, like her witch costume for Halloween and our Christmas time trip to Disneyland. She is growing up against my will. I told her she was forbidden to turn five, and just like that she did it anyway.

Every single day I hug her, cause I know one day she won't be as willing to hug me back. Then after she falls asleep I lay down next to her for just a few minutes, trying to absorb all that I can of that moment before I blink and she's having another birthday. Every night when I'm trying to freeze time my eyes fill up with tears because sometimes I miss the baby version of her, the one that needed me more, the one who I centered my universe around.

I love the current version of her more and more every day, but that person changes when I'm not looking into someone more and more grown up, till one day she'll be unrecognizable to me as the baby who slept on my chest, and the little girl who wanted me to blow bubbles with her, and the five year old obsessed with attaining a Doodle Bear and who still let me hold her hand in public.

Goodbye to 4 year old Alana, I'll miss you as much as I miss 1, 2 & 3 year old Alana. Maybe I'll miss 5 year old Alana too when that time comes, ask me tomorrow when she's turning six.

Birthdays 1, 2, 3 & 4. 5 is coming soon, so it's to be continued.