I should come with a warning label

This is a public service announcement to anyone who might not know: pregnant women have a lot of hormones, you should regard them with caution. Do not just say whatever is on your mind to them, especially about their appearance, unless it is definitely a compliment. Comments that are neutral can be interpreted in various ways, and should be avoided. These include: You look tired. Are you done being pregnant yet? Your belly looks really low, are you sure of your due date? And there are things that some people find appropriate to say to pregnant women that are NEVER OKAY TO ASK. These include but are not limited to: How much weight have you gained/how much do you currently weigh? You are walking slower than usual. How many kids do you think you need to have? 

I would just like to state, for the record, that unless you are my doctor or my close friend who I am already having a conversation with about weight, don't ask me how much I weigh. Don't ever ask anyone how much they weigh. EVER. The only weight that should concern you is the baby's weight when it is born, and I don't really get the obsession with that number that much either. Unless the baby is like 10 lbs, cause then the mom deserves a trophy of some type. 

Honestly, my grouchiness level can go from zero to ten faster than you can imagine. I'm 34 weeks pregnant and I'm just not in the mood to put up with anything. I won't put up with anything. Think of my children and husband, who have to live with me, before you anger me. Do it for the children. 

Birthday Party Stuff

When it comes to my kid's birthday parties, I try to resist going all Pinterest crazy and making everything themed and putting special labels on water bottles and such. You know why? Your kid does not care if you do that. In the long run, all you've done is make more work for yourself.

For Alana's birthday, which happens to land right in the middle of fall break, I let her have a small party with friends from school. The only real effort I put into this party was cupcakes, not cake because cake = forks & plates. She talked me into cotton candy and rice krispy treats and those things require like 5 minutes of work so I agreed.

I happen to own/hoard many cake stands and things of that nature, because I have an addiction to buying them. I have no intention of ever conquering this addiction because cake stands are a) functional and b) ridiculously cute.

When it comes to entertaining children I am a firm believer that 7/8 year olds can entertain themselves. Alana made herself in charge of games and they all ran around and played Duck Duck Goose and Red light/Green light till I refueled them with the sugar from the cotton candy and rice krispy treats. Then they ran around again till I fed them cupcakes. It worked out okay and I got to sit on my porch and watch them get tired.

And that was Alana's first birthday party. She couldn't possibly have just one. She still had grandparents and other family to feed cake to and receive presents from. So on Saturday I made a giant cake and some breads and a tray of fruit and we went to the park for another party.

In case you didn't know, wearing zebra striped socks with your dress shoes is totally fashionable.

 Ava had a case of little sister birthday envy, so she had to get a crown too. She also had to remind Alana several times of the one toy that she shared with her when it was Ava's birthday and Alana had the birthday envy. ONE TOY.

I made them stand together to compare height and the number of teeth they both have. Last year at this time Alana was the toothless one, now she has giant teeth and Jayden has no front teeth.

I may have an ongoing tradition of using number candles on my kid's birthday cakes. For some reason this year though Walmart had no "8" candles. I don't know if tons of kids in Benson turned 8 in the same time period or what, but I had to go to Target in Sierra Vista to get a candle. And they were out of "7" candles, so apparently they had a bunch of kids turn 7 recently.

I'm glad we got to celebrate Alana's birthday, twice. She is so sweet and loving and I wanted her to feel special since she's the oldest and with little kids around its easy for them to feel left out. All it took for her to feel loved was to be sung to a couple of times, including once at the Olive Garden, where she actually requested they publicly sing to her (who does that?). I hope she always stays this sweet, even if the Olive Garden staff doesn't sing to her every other day of the year.

I Hate Time

So this happened yesterday:

Do you know why this happened? Because time is a jerk. My baby, who used to be little and small and not a giant 8 year old, is halfway grown up. Because time hates me. You know what time? I hate you right back. I hate you more. You make me sick. Your face disgusts me. Let's never talk again. 

This girl used to be little. Now she's tall and she reads chapter books and she has too many opinions. She cuts up her own pancakes like she's a freaking adult. She can shower by herself and wash her own hair. She can tie her own shoes. She can find what she wants to watch on TV or put on a DVD without adult assistance. Its like she doesn't even need a mommy anymore. 

This girl climbs to the top of stuff and can swing without being pushed. She can get her own bowl of cereal and then read the box while she eats it. 

This girl has hair down to her waist and mosquito bites all over her legs. She has crazy patterned nail polish and an undying love of lipgloss. This girl is very contradictory when it comes to fashion. She wears dresses and Nikes, or t-shirts and the girliest jewelry she can find. She has an Avengers lunchbox, and even though mean boys teased her about it (who I will find and punch in time) she stands firm that girls can like the Avengers too. 

This girl is in no hurry to grow up, even though time put her in second grade already. Dang you time. This girl has no plans to stop playing with toys, even when she is taking a shower by herself and washing her own hair like she's all grown up. She still intends on playing with Barbies and coloring every day of her life, try and stop her. She takes ridiculous videos of herself on my phone, she sings louder than the car radio, and she giggles nonstop at the dumbest TV shows. 

This girl is a sweet to everyone and gives unlimited hugs without even being asked. The only person she ever disagrees with is her sister, but they quickly make-up and go right back to playing/fighting again. This girl does not have a mean bone in her body, and she is the kind of friend and sister and daughter that reflects that. 

If only time would stop making her grow up so fast, I would have more time to just watch her. Watch her be an honor roll student, great big sister, Barbie and Frozen lover, lipgloss fanatic, wearer of chipped nail polish, expert hugger, and frequent giggler. Time keeps making her grow up, but I'm going to keep buying her Barbies and hair bows and markers and pretending that she will never grow up, because I don't want to face a world where she isn't my baby anymore. That's why no matter what I will never insist she just hurry up and act her age, because that age is always too high of a number for my comfort.