Give Me a Break

Alana has been in kindergarten for two months already. Two months! I guess that is a long time in kindergarten years, so it's time for a break. Fall break. Two months of school is exhausting, so now she has two weeks off to stay home and do the things she has missed out on, like fighting with Ava, making giant messes, asking for a bowl of cereal five times a day, and smothering Witten with kisses. We have two weeks ahead of us where I don't have to leave my house before 8 am and to me that is the most exciting part. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to eat caramel popcorn for breakfast, CAUSE IT'S FALL BREAK PEOPLE!!!!

A First Name Basis

I consider myself a fairly socially capable person. I'm not overly social, I'd actually prefer to be at home most of the time. But put me in nearly any social situation and I can hold my own. I can carry on a conversation with a stranger, even if I have nothing in common with them. I can chat with a random old lady at the grocery store who was admiring my baby. It's fine, I'm good. I don't even mind talking to these people. I can usually even make them laugh with some random witty remark, cause you know, I'm funny like that.

Even though I'm pretty sociable, I don't really have tons of *friends. I have friends, but I never hang out with them cause I don't go out of my way to see people, like ever. So usually I just hang out with my husband, cause he is here at my house already. Or my sister, cause she is the only person I ever go out of my way to see. But other people I only see occasionally. It's not that I don't like people, I just don't know that many people who I have that much in common with.

Enter: kindergarten. Alana makes friends easily. And with those friends come a convenient accessory: moms. Moms who I have at least one thing in common with: a kindergartener. Moms with an average age of 25-35. I fit right in the middle there. I pick Alana up from school everyday, which gives me about 10 minutes of standing outside of her class while Ava plays. There are other moms there, although I think most of the kids ride the bus. I talk and make conversation with these moms and its my perfect opportunity to socialize. I've established at least a casual friendship with them.

The only roadblock: I don't really know people's names. And they don't know mine. I know kid's names, if Alana has told me who they are. Or I looked on her class picture to see who is who and what their last name is. Since I'm not "from" Benson and didn't go to high school here, I went to the oh so distant "town" of St. David, I don't know most of the people. But David does. The people who I've managed to assign a name to the face of are people who David knows, so he told me their name. Other than that, they are "so and so's mom."

At some point, probably pretty soon cause it's only going to grow increasingly awkward, I should breach the topic of names. Like I didn't catch your name by the way mine is Jennifer and our kids will probably go to school together for the next 13 years cause I have no intention of ever moving away. You know, somewhere along those lines. Before it gets too awkward.

Milestones: 3 Months Old

This dude. Come on. I mean COME ON. He is growing too fast. And he couldn't be cuter. And I couldn't love him more. He has a special corner of my heart reserved for boys that I didn't even knew I had. He's just perfect.

Right now at 3 months old he is just starting to discover his hands and that they serve a purpose, whether that purpose be for eating & general enjoyment or putting stuff like a blanket in his mouth. He is holding his head up good although he gets a little wobbly when he's in the bumbo chair for a little while. He probably won't roll over for awhile cause he doesn't spend tons of time on the floor. He talks and grunts and smiles at me whenever I hold him, which is always cause he's my sweet boy and probably my last baby. People always comment on how good and mellow he is and it's true, he's awesome. He couldn't be sweeter. Don't let his scowl in pictures fool you, he's a lover, not a fighter.

Let's Get Digital

I'm lucky to be living in a time where cameras are digital and film is basically a thing of the past. Because when I get my camera out to take pictures of my dude I average about 40-50. It's kind of ridiculous, but they're digital so who cares. They're just taking up space on my hard drive instead of costing me major $$$ to have developed. I'd be in the poor house if I had to buy film for all of these pictures. Now look at them. And take note that these were all taken in the same day and they are just a handful of the 50+ pictures I took in one hour.

Kindergarten Teaches Vital Life Skills

Alana is loving school, loving learning. She knows about 40 sight words and comes home everyday with newly acquired knowledge that she is excited to share. But the most important thing by far, the thing that takes the cake, the most exciting and useful task yet, is her mastering of one very great skill: THE CHICKEN DANCE.

Yes, that is her proudest achievement by far. An annoying dance that she is now teaching Ava. Let's all give her a round of applause for mastering this complicated dance.

Hello Bumbo

The dude is just about big enough to sit in his Bumbo seat. Still a little wobbly and not a huge fan, but he's gonna sit in it anyway.

Ava was a little apprehensive about her Bumbo at first too.

But not Alana.

Family Tradition

I guess faux hawks/wild & crazy baby hair all run in the family. These locks can't be tamed, and they don't wanna be.

A Time and a Place

Stuffed animal claw machines aren't really an appropriate setting for politics. But at least this one is bipartisan.

You Don't Owe Me An Explanation

At least once a week I get asked if I breastfeed my baby. And the answer is yes. Usually that's the end of the conversation, but if its another mom with young kids there are more things to be said. War stories are shared about previous nursing experiences, hers and mine. Everyone has a story, and they're all unique and similar at the same time, same as birth stories. We all go through the same fundamental things, but in slightly different ways.

When another mother shares their stories of nursing, and I share mine, we aren't looking to justify ourselves. Breastfeeding is a personal choice. I do it, but sometimes think bottle feeding would be easier. Of course there are pros and cons to both ways, but the reasons I do it aren't just because of health benefits. They're because it is less work for me. I never have to pack formula or wash bottles, my milk is far more portable. And best of all, its free. That will always be a big factor for me, price. I hate paying money for diapers, there is no way I'm buying formula too.

No matter what my choice is and no matter what other mothers do, its our own decision. When women ask me if I nurse my baby, or get out a bottle to feed their baby when I am nursing mine, sometimes I feel like they feel a little guilty. Women are always giving me excuses and long stories about what led them to bottlefeed. Pretty standard stuff that I'm not questioning, like not enough milk. It is almost like some women feel like they have to explain themselves to me because I breastfeed and they don't, but the truth is I'm not judging them. Don't get me wrong, I probably judge people on dumb stuff all the time. But on the subject of How you feed your baby its really up to you. You don't have to explain yourself to me. I might even be a little jealous sometimes of women with bottlefed babies, because every once in awhile someone else can feed their kid. When you breastfeed there are no substitutions, its just me.

I'm not gonna judge anyone for not nursing, and I don't want to be judged either. You had a natural drug free childbirth? Great. I got an epidural and it wasn't because I'm weak. It's because I wanted one. You don't believe in ever co-sleeping under any circumstances? I'm so happy that you can get your kid to sleep in their own bed, but I'm okay with mine laying with me for a few hours every night. Plus, I fall asleep sitting up and nursing if I'm even a little bit sleep deprived, so I'm holding my baby while he sleeps anyway.

No one should have to explain themselves for their parenting decisions. If you don't breastfeed then that is between you and your baby, you don't need to list your reasons to me in an attempt to avoid judgment. It's your baby, feed it want you feel is best. Unless you're like one of those parents on Maury Povich with the 100lb 2 year old who has a nipple on a liter of Dr. Pepper. Then you should seek outside advice.

Innocent Until Proven Guilty

Ava has been framed for a crime she did not commit. The 3 bears have accused her of eating all of their porridge, but she swears it was the big bad wolf. I'm skeptical because word on the street is that the big bad wolf isn't so bad anymore, but maybe he still really likes porridge.

Spitting Image

Alana now does custom portraits. Put your orders in now if you want one before the holidays.

Living in a Fastasy World

The world is your oyster, or the carport your canvas for a sidewalk chalk scenario.

Not everyone wants to escape from reality I guess.

I Need an I.O.U.

This lady has lost 2 teeth in the last month, both on the bottom. Plus one that the dentist pulled. Three gaps in her mouth = $3 that the tooth fairy had to pay her. The problem with the tooth fairy in these parts is that she doesn't carry cash. And she doesn't want to put her debit card under her kids pillow. So the tooth fairy has "borrowed" a dollar from Alana's piggy bank twice now. And then Alana puts her money in her piggy bank, so the tooth fairy has another dollar to recycle and give her next time she loses a teeth.

The tooth fairy now owes her $2, and she doesn't even know. It's like a pyramid scheme for kindergarteners, and she doesn't know she's investing. The tooth fairy should really hit up an ATM and keep some 1's on hand, cause she has another lose tooth. Otherwise the tooth fairy is gonna have to "borrow" another dollar bill and the interest is really starting to add up.

Sorry Dude

Poor guy, but sometimes when you have 2 big sisters you end up with some girly hand-me-downs. Like a Boppy pillow with flowers all over it. And a princess blanket that your big sisters always cover you with, even though you have plenty of manly sports themed blankets. I promise I'll never dress you in pink though, that's a personal guarantee.

School Spirit

This girl of mine is still so excited about school, even after a month and a half. On Fridays she makes sure to wear her Bobcat shirt to show she's a Bobcat citizen. Today she even wore red & blue rubberbands in her hair and had me paint her fingernails red. She is a happy kindergartener, ready to learn and she always makes me look good by being such a good student. She's also happy to make friends and even took a box of M&Ms to a boy who invited her to his birthday party.

I can't believe that this little independent person was ever a little baby. She is so grown up, ready to turn six in a couple of weeks. My sweet little KinderCat!

Life Has Made Me Smart & Stuff

I'm old. 30. But don't tell. I don't look a day over 29 1/2. I've learned things along the way. Now I'm wise too.

Why, just today I was standing there, watching the gang of kindergarten girls that Alana belongs to, they've dubbed themselves the Sparkle Girls. As of this morning anyway, they may change their name tomorrow. As I watched the Sparkle Girls who kindly included Ava, I learned a fact: girls do not properly honor the rules of Ring Around the Rosie. When it is muddy, they do not all fall down. Instead, they all crouch, just a little, so they don't get muddy sand on their sparkly pants. It is not planned, it is girl instinct. They should just change the words. We all crouch down slightly but never actually fall cause then we'd get dirty.

Kindergarteners have their own rules for life, and their own sense of humor. Things that my many years of life have made unfunny are hilarious to a 5 year old. Cause they think farts and dumb boy stuff are funny, and I don't. It's probably because I'm old. So I don't get it.

Back in my day we didn't tell fart jokes. Instead we just walked to the bus stop, uphill both ways, in the rain. I did actually walk to the bus stop, for 6 years. So that's only a mild exaggeration. When I was a kid....well you know how that story starts out. I tell my kids something that I did not have when I was younger that they cannot imagine their lives without. Like smart phones. What? You mean you couldn't get on the internet wherever you were? You didn't have the internet cause it hadn't been invented yet? You couldn't rewind live TV, instead you had to get up to change the channel on your wood console TV that was not nearly as fancy as that 50 inch flat screen sitting in our living room? I predict some eye rolling in the future, mostly when these types of stories are told. Only it will be done by my kids, not by me, eyeroller of past stories told by my parents/grandparents.

Now that I'm 30, still keeping that on the down low, my grandpa is fond of telling me that when he turned 30 he felt old. He's in his 80s, but turning 30 made him feel old. Complaining about the lack of quality TV programming on these days and the cost of prescription medicine doesn't make him feel old, but turning 30 did. That makes me feel great. So do David's jokes about crows feet.

Eleven weeks of having a boy have taught me that no matter what I do I'm occasionally going to get peed and pooped on. I've changed my fair share of diapers, I'm no slacker, but this boy has still managed to pee and/or poop on me at least 4 times. He's a wild card, unpredictable, a real rebel. He heard that ladies like that.

Being home with only 2 kids during most of the day has been strangely quiet. Then when I pick up Alana from school at the end of the day my fight-breaking-up skills are rusty. Ava has no one to argue with during the day, she instead just tells me I told you so a bunch of times. So when Alana comes home and there is conflict I want to invest in earplugs. You would think they could manage to get along since they're not together all day. At least I would think that, other people probably think that children defy logic.

I suppose my kids defy logic. Logical people don't take giant bites of plain brown rice at dinner and they say they don't like the rest of the food because of it. Logical people actually eat their dinner, even if its not macaroni and cheese or something they can dip in ranch. But kids aren't logical, they rely on other people's logic. Like mine, and I have an abundance of it. I'm wise beyond my years, or so I keep telling myself. Just ask me, I'll tell you how smart I am.

Writing the Unexplainable

It's not possible to document how much you love your kids. You can try. You can write about how happy you were when you found out you were pregnant, how exciting it was to know you were having a boy/girl, how your heart suddenly felt so full that first time you held that new little person, how the first time they smiled totally made everything worth it. You can mention how the first year goes by in a flash, one day you bring home a newborn, the next day they can roll over and smile and they're feeding themselves and crawling and standing and walking and shoving birthday cake into their chubby little face.

These things all happen in a blur and each day your heart grows. You can kiss their chubby baby fingers and the next day they're holding a pencil and writing their own name or blowing bubbles without your help or painting you a picture that you want to keep forever.

I hate how quickly my kids are growing up. I hate that Alana leaves me everyday to go to kindergarten without even looking back. I hate that every second that she's away I feel like something is missing. I also hate that one day I won't see her all the time. She will live somewhere else and I can't watch her sleep and make her cookies and tie her shoes. I hate that one day Ava will do all of her whining someplace else. She will probably cry when she goes to school, she gets that from me. But she'll get over it and make friends and need me less. I hate that my baby is already 11 weeks old. I hate that he will be one before I know it and someday when he goes to kindergarten I'll probably have to get a job and won't be the one who picks him up from school everyday.

Presumably he's my last baby and I want to be okay with that. I'm trying to be okay with that. But it still makes me sad. I could have 5 more kids and still never be done with pregnancy, done with newborns. I don't think I could ever get enough of holding a sweet new little person on my chest and not care about anything happening around me. When I sat in the bathroom at my work holding a positive pregnancy test I had no idea what I was in for. Who knew? That little nugget of excitement was nothing compared to how much my love for each of my kids grows everyday. It grows almost as fast as they do.

At the end of everyday I look at my sleeping peaceful children and almost forget anything bratty they did that day. I don't always feel like Mom of the Year after they've been super bratty, because sometimes I just want to lock myself in the bathroom and eat cookies. I want to be more patient, but there aren't enough cookies in the world when you spend 15 minutes playing playground chicken with 2 kids. Here's how that game goes: You say you're leaving in 5 minutes. They ignore you. You say you're leaving in 1 minute. They ignore you. You say you're leaving immediately. Bye, see you later. I'm going. Totally leaving now. (This is when you push the stroller towards the school gate because its like 3:30 and you wanna go home and its hot outside and maybe they'll believe you when you say you're leaving). You walk 10 feet. Stop. Turn around and look back. They haven't budged. You fight the urge to drag them off of the monkey bars. You walk a few more feet. They don't move. Clearly they're better at this game then you. They could do this all day. Eventually you walk far enough that one starts to yell and runs towards you and the other one gets thirsty so she just comes along cause you know, she's thirsty.

When I used to try to picture myself as a mom I couldn't do it. I didn't think I'd ever have kids, much less have them on purpose. But now I can't remember who I was before I was Mommy. I don't want to remember. I want to remember my kids when they were babies, their first steps, their first words, their first day of kindergarten. I'm okay with forgetting the sleepless nights, being thrown up on, and the words to every song on Dora.

All I can do is try to explain to them what they mean to me. Try to show them how much I care. I can tell them how special they are everyday, but I'm still the only one who is ever going to know just how perfect I think they are.

I've Been Meaning to be Lazy

This weekend I wore the same clothes for 48 hours, didn't comb my kids hair, ate a whole bag of Dove Promises, and watched some dumb crap on TV. I wish I could do that every weekend. I brush enough hair during the week. My kids were lazy too. And football was on, so David didn't do much either.

Besides holding down the couch my kids blew bubbles in their pajamas at noon.

Then Witten slept on my bed next to me while I watched TV that did not make me any smarter.

Also: Alana made some sidewalk chalk masterpieces and claimed the ground as her property.

In spite of how this picture kind of looks, that is a foot with a shoe on it.

It's nice to be lazy when every weekday is suddenly filled with driving back and forth to get Alana from school and dumb errands and just way too much leaving the house. The only time I left my house this weekend was to buy some Dove chocolates and Food Network Magazine. I did this wearing a Mickey Mouse shirt and green plaid pants and by some miracle I saw no one I knew. That's how I know that fate pre-destined this weekend as a lazy one, because if I'd been seen in public it would've been a sign I should've gotten dressed that day. 

Not An Exaggeration

This photo is not staged. When Alana took her shoes off after school on Friday this is what they looked like. She had half of the playground in her shoes, just hanging out with her feet. Why even wear shoes when you're practically walking around in a sandbox all the time? It's a good thing we don't have a cat or it might have mistaken them for a litter box.

Great, It's Football Season

I'm just so excited for football season. If I could type in sarcasm I would. Italics will have to do. All of the games. And we have NFL Sunday Ticket so we get every. Single. Game. Sundays are the best!

And the constant discussion of What should we eat when there's football on? It must be wings or something equally labor intensive and manly! And the men don't do the cooking. Cause they have important couch holding down duties to attend to. Gotta get your money's worth out of the expensive football TV subscription.

Every fall Sunday is a day to watch football, even if the Cowboys aren't playing. Other days are for football too. Even if its college football on Saturday. Or two crappy teams on Monday night. Or Thursday night football. Is no day sacred NFL? Give me a day off!

My children are Cowboys fans from birth, whether they like it or not. They've been wearing silver & blue stars since before they could walk. Even Witten is sporting a Cowboys onesie.

David's devotion is without question. Win or lose, he loves the Cowboys. He will never say a word against them. He owns a Tony Romo for President t-shirt. Every year he anxiously awaits the start of football. The Superbowl is bittersweet to him. One, because the Cowboys haven't been in it for awhile. Two, because that's the end of football season. I do a secret victory dance that it's over for awhile, but there's always other sports to watch, and when that fails there are plenty of pawn shop TV shows for him to watch instead.

David is hyped, since the Cowboys won their first game. The only thing that I'm sure of is that it's gonna be a long football filled fall. Hopefully my husband won't be depressed at the end of half of the Sundays like last year.

Sleepytime

I have 2 blog posts that I started and never finished today. I meant to do them. I wanted to do them. But today passed and I never did them. Instead I cleaned my house and held my baby and now I'm watching garbage tv while my dude sleeps next to me. Another day blogging, another day.

Perspective

My dude is still little. Stop saying he's big people. So he's 11 lbs, so what. When I look back at pictures of him the way he is now I will surely think to myself (in my most high pitched internal dialogue voice) He's so little! And squishy! And cute!

Sometimes when I'm holding him, face to face and kissing his chubby cheeks, he suddenly seems ginormous. But when David is holding him and I look at the two of them together, Witten looks tiny. It's all about the perspective. When I'm carrying him in his carseat he seems huge. But then I put him in the middle of my king sized bed when he's asleep and he looks little again. For the record I prefer the version of things where he looks small.



If I Could Bottle Any Smell....

The greatest smell in the whole world is a freshly bathed brand new baby. Their soft baby skin and clean fuzzy hair. Nothing compares. I bathe my dude every other day then I just sit with him on my lap for awhile and smell his head, trying to remember his babyness, before he starts to smell like a boy, stinky feet and sweat. Just stay little for a little while longer dude. For your mommy's sake. You can still be all serious at bathtime like you are now, as long as you still smell like a clean little baby afterwards.

Pantless Saturday. It's Gonna Be a Thing

A Study of Babies & Cameras

This is each of my babies at 2 months old. The left one is Alana, Ava right smack in the middle, & clearly my Witten boy on the end. This side by side comparison does many things. Firstly makes me sad that Alana & Ava are so big now. Secondly it makes me extremely happy that I upgraded in the camera department and learned a little more about taking better pictures. Lastly it really confirms my decision to get a better camera. Yes that one counts twice because clearly it makes a difference.

When I was pregnant with Alana we bought our first digital camera. A Panasonic with about 6-8ish megapixels. My iPhone has more megapixels. It was also rocking incredibly slow shutter speed so that I usually missed whatever cute thing Alana was doing. So I bought another point and shoot when I was pregnant with Ava. A Kodak that was about 10 megapixels and still had kind of a slow shutter speed. Pictures were slightly improved, but the camera still had major limitations.

In January 2011 I took the plunge and bought my Canon dSLR and I've been smitten ever since. My only regret is not buying it sooner, but I honestly never even considered buying a big fancy camera that I had to set myself until I started a blog and began looking at photo blogs and other people's pictures. They were so clear. They weren't grainy. People weren't all washed out with flash and didn't have redeyes. I wanted that quality of pictures of my kids.

Buying that camera was hard to do, because spending that much on one item that was just for me was difficult. But I've never regretted it. My pictures are 1,000 times better, plus I've taken the time to learn to take better pictures in general instead of just pointing the camera and shooting. Turning the dial to manual makes a difference too, because I decide what the picture should look like instead of letting my camera decide.

It always wants to use the flash, which I'm generally opposed too. I can't say its never useful though. There are some instances where it helps. My one exception to the I hate the flash! rule is when I'm already in a well lit area, but the lighting is uneven. My study of flash benefits can be proven with Disneyland photos.

The top pic was taken in February 2011, one month after I got my camera. I jumped right into using manual, so I told the camera what to do. Still, its not a great photo. The room is lit up enough, but unevenly. Everyone's faces are dark and shadowy. My camera in case you're wondering and know about camera settings is set to ISO 1600, shutterspeed 1/25s, fstop 5. The bottom photo was taken December 2011. The camera settings are ISO 800, shutterspeed 1/30s, fstop 4. Not a huge difference from the top. But I caved in and turned on the on-camera flash. I have to consent that it made for a better picture. The room is lit well enough, but because of the crazy jellyfish light fixtures everything is uneven. The flash just kind of filled in the blanks. You win for now stupid flash. Until I buy an off-camera flash and you are forever banished to the down position!

Even though my cameras both sucked when the girls were babies I still took a lot of pictures. They just suck. The amount of pictures that I take now is ridiculous. If I don't take a picture, at least of Witten who is growing at the speed of light, at least every other day, then I feel weird. Like I'm missing out on things. I didn't get to take his official newborn pics till he was one week old and that felt like forever. Those pics also made me glad for the camera.

Now I have tons of good quality pictures of my babies, so my pictures don't turn out like this.

These pictures of my girls, Alana on top and Ava on bottom, capture their sweet sleepy faces when they were both about 1 month old. But they're grainy and unclear. The flash is unflattering. I still regret the decision to have maroon bedsheets. These pictures are what I have from when they were small, for better or worse. Now with my Witten boy everything is a little clearer.



There is more detail and no flash. The natural light is way more flattering. And he is just so handsome.

No matter how good or bad the camera is/was, what is really important to me is that I have pictures of my babies, so I can remember how tiny they were. How cute they were. How much I was obsessed with taking pictures of them when they were babies. I can't change my kids baby pictures, I can only make sure that I take just as many right now while they are in the stages they're in now, because before too long I will be looking back at those pictures and thinking just how small and cute they were.