tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33850176800545112242024-03-14T03:05:42.255-07:00more than a MOMMYJenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.comBlogger817125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-33224700297245069852015-11-18T11:38:00.000-08:002015-11-18T11:38:03.540-08:00How to lose friends and ostracize people, all from the comfort of homeWhen you go on Facebook, do you scroll through your newsfeed and think<i> "Wow, there is too much tolerance and crap on here, but what can I do about it?" </i>If that sounds like you, I have some important advice on what to do, sure to get rid of any liberal friends you may have left, all from the comfort of your own home!<br />
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Do you hate orphans? Refugees? Gay marriage? Anyone on government assistance regardless of their level of need? Do you really have a grudge against Planned Parenthood? And the President? And everyone? Hurry, act now, while they're vulnerable. Post about how you hate those things! The more racist, the better! Once they know how you feel, they'll surely change their mind!<br /><br />
I have found, through extensive online research, that the more you talk about your racist and homophobic opinions on social media, the more people will agree with you! And if they don't surrender and admit you are right, screw 'em! Unfriend them, call them names, go ahead and disown them. Moderation isn't necessary, neither is respect. These people don't agree with you, therefore they are stupid. Call them names, tell them you're voting for Donald Trump because clearly he has what it takes to run our country, and then if they are still talking to you, tell them they're adopted. Works every time!<br />
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If you still find that you have too many friends, you aren't being racist enough. Deny racism exists, this is especially great if you are white and middle class. Clearly, you are an expert on our country and its socioeconomic status, you know all of the things there are to know about minorities and systemic racism. If people can read your posts and comments without getting nauseous and having a crisis of faith in your friendship, you aren't being extreme enough. Try spelling things wrong and writing in ALL CAPS. That should push things over the edge.<br />
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I personally can testify that all of these things on Facebook are enough to make me want to delete my account, so I know they work! Good job to everyone who rants about ignorant stuff and makes rude comments behind the false security provided to them by the internet! If you won't say it to someone's face, you should definitely say it to them on the internet! They don't have feelings on the internet, that's just science! Keep up the good work!Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-1508680684993252512015-11-16T10:25:00.001-08:002015-11-16T10:25:37.560-08:00Fastest year of my life and I'm mostly not sad at all. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is what I looked like one year ago today. Big belly with my tiny little guy inside of it. And now, tomorrow, already, he will be one. But its okay, I'm totally okay, everything is fine. I'm not depressed at all about it. I'm not wallowing in self pity and looking at pictures and following him around trying to cuddle him while he incessantly tries to learn how to walk. EVERYTHING IS GREAT.<br />
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I'm not looking at pictures from the day he was born. Who would do that? I'm not trying to pretend that I'm not forgetting how small he was when he was born. That's crazy.<br />
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I'm not touching his hair, which is now long and a borderline mullet, trying to remember what his soft fuzzy newborn hair felt like.<br />
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I'm not thinking about how excited the girls were when we brought Liam home and how they were so obsessed they wanted to hold him ALL THE TIME. I'm not laughing about how now he pulls their hair and tries to eat whatever toys they are playing with, because he's doing his best to be a toddler.<br />
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I'm not thinking about how last year at Christmas I had a newborn and this year I have a monster toddler who is constantly trying to pull our 9-foot Christmas tree down on himself. That's the furthest thought from my mind. I don't even know why I'm bringing it up.<br />
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I'm not thinking about how I have 4 kids, not 3 kids and a baby. Cause that's a lot of kids. That's a big dinner every night and a lot of gallons of milk every week and more apples than I could keep in the house if I lived on an apple orchard.<br />
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I'm not thinking about how many opinions toddlers have. How they are basically tiny dictators who protest about everything they disagree with. None of that matters, since I'm not thinking about it.<br />
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I'm not thinking about how Liam is great at finding things on the floor to eat, and even though I vacuum A LOT he is the 4th kid so everyone else leaves plenty of things on the floor for him to find.<br />
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It hasn't even crossed my mind that we have run out of "first" holidays. No more of those for Liam. He doesn't really care for occasions where his mom dresses him up as a skunk anyway. Those are lame.<br />
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I am not thinking about how fast he has grown, or the curve of his sweet fat cheeks, or how in another year he will look completely different, with the loss of his knuckle dimples and baby curves. Those things have not occured to me, I'm not bothered by this at all. I'm fine. Really. I haven't even thought about how this was the fastest year of my life, and even though I tried to savor every moment, life is crazy busy and everything went by without me even getting the chance to stop and look around. I'm not extremely sad about how his face lights up when he sees me, and how someday he won't do that anymore because I won't always be the center of his world. So if anyone sees me, remember I'm not completely depressed and crying, or wallowing in self pity. Nope, none of those things. I'M FINE.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-73689989393693138702015-11-13T09:46:00.000-08:002015-11-13T09:50:37.121-08:00It's all downhill from here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last night at Target, after David and I hurriedly ate a quick dinner and attempted to contain our crazy children for like 5 minutes in public, <i>which is not an easy task, </i>a nice little old lady approached me. She admired the kids, who were temporarily clean/did not appear homeless at that moment, and rave about their behavior, since no one threw anything at anyone else during that time. She told me they are a blessing, and we are lucky to have them. These are things I know, but often forget. Then she pointed out something else, probably leftover advice from when her children were young, or something she wished someone had told her when she was a mother to young children. <i>This will be the happiest time of your life. You might not know it now, because its so crazy, but when you look back on it you will know. This is the highlight. </i><br />
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While I thanked her and she left, I was left to reflect on what she said. Its fairly true. Kids bring you joy. They are pure and innocent, they find happiness in everything. Its hard to be unhappy when your children are healthy, fed, and content. Seeing them open presents on Christmas morning, or happily hug a friend, or walk through the gates of Disneyland to see how magical it is, those are the things that show me its all worth it. <i>We all basically feel like happy little children at Disneyland</i>. <i>Happy children with very, very tired feet</i>. I know that this is the happiest time of my life, because being a mom has made me happier than anything else.<br />
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At some point, sooner than I realize, they will grow up. No one will believe in Santa anymore, I won't have to cut anyone's grapes in half because they only have 2 teeth, and the girls won't need me to braid their hair everyday. My boys won't want to hold my hand in public, I won't have to watch cartoons all the time, and everyone will wash their own hair. I will be here, and I will still be their mom, but my role will be lessened. And then what?<br />
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I have run out of babies, my last one is practically a toddler. I have run out of first holidays, and soon I will watch my little guy take his first steps. Its a happy time in my life, but its bittersweet. It has an expiration date. My days of sippy cups and diapers will end, and then I don't know what I will do with myself. Get a job I guess, but that doesn't sound appealing. I know that no matter what the next chapter of my life brings, I'm always going to look back on this part and romanticize it.<br />
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My brain will remember what it wants to. It will probably be influenced by my heart, since it has a way of telling every story to end in peacefully sleeping sweet children. No matter how hard the day is, it will always end in peacefully sleeping sweet children. You might have to practically run a marathon to get them that way, but eventually they all sleep. Then you look at their beautiful faces and forget about every bratty thing they've ever done.<br />
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I know they will grow up, believe me. I know it all happens in a moment, that's not new information. And I am painfully aware that this will be the happiest time in my life, when I'm surrounded by loud children who drive me completely insane and then turn around and make me stare at their beautiful faces with wonder. You don't have to tell me that, I know that its basically all downhill from here. But I'm going to enjoy the view while I can.<br />
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<br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-56976430436511021492015-10-28T11:28:00.000-07:002015-10-28T11:28:05.078-07:00Please refrain from becoming a toddler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Oh squishy boy, you are the best. I don't know what I did to deserve you, especially after declaring myself to be done with babies. But you, you are a light in my life. You are fat and jolly and love to crawl everywhere and get into everything.<br />
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You have 2 sharp teeth that you use to eat anything you find on the floor, especially paper. You love to be entertained and carried around, and you are a giant momma's boy.<br />
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The thing is, you are 11 months old now. I know, that happened fast. I just brought your tiny newborn self home from the hospital. I held you sleeping on my chest as much as humanly possible, because time hates me and I knew if I blinked you would grow up. So I didn't blink, but you did it anyway. Now you're trying to walk, and I must ask that you cease and desist all toddler-like activities. Self-feeding? Cut that crap out. Walking? NO. Having too many opinions? Not allowed. Clapping and waving and generally interacting with everyone? While cute, still forbidden. You are not allowed to keep doing this to me. I cannot take toddlerhood so soon. I miss my baby already. You represent that whole part of my life. I don't get anymore chances, you are the final chapter of me being a mom to a baby. After this kid, I'm out.<br />
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While I do feel a small bit of me is ready to move on, that part of me is a minority and I am not listening to her. She's dumb and far too rational. You will be a baby to me forever. I will hold you and cuddle you till you're taller than me, you basically have no say in that. I am not as big of a fan of toddlers, due to their incessant opinions and thinking they're in charge. I like babies, please stay one. If there is anything I can do to change your mind about growing up, let me know. I am open to suggestions.<br />
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I'm glad we had this talk, so if you could just go ahead and postpone turning one in 3 weeks, we can work out a deal where I allow you to eat cookies or whatever paper you find on the floor as often as you like. I'm not above bribery, just ask Witten, I've been using it as a cornerstone for parenting him for some time. He also might be able to offer you tips in manipulating me by being extremely cute and stubborn, but I think you might be able to figure some of that out by yourself, judging by your handsome smile and overall chubbiness.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-32150622891854821092015-09-02T11:28:00.002-07:002015-09-02T11:49:38.641-07:00Nostalgia and Timehop are ruining my lifeI am already a sentimental person. One that loves to look at old pictures, reminisce, and what-not. I would estimate I take 1,000,000 photos per year (<i>this number is a gross exaggeration). </i>And I'm not even that excessive. I bring my big camera to stuff, take a few pictures, call it a day. I use my iPhone for pictures, but even then I just snap a few and move on with my life. Despite what I consider moderation, my daily <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timehop" target="_blank">Timehop</a> typically includes 2 dozen photos. And I hate it.<br />
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Every day, I have 2 dozen reminders of how little my kids <i>used </i>to be. How tiny and perfect, how sweet and innocent. How freaking ridiculously small and cute. Frankly, I'm tired of it. It disgusts me.</div>
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Take this picture, for example: <br />
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This is 2 year old <i>and apparently topless </i>Ava. LOOK HOW CUTE SHE IS! Look at her tiny face and brown eyes. DO IT! I cannot look at this picture longer than 10 seconds without getting sad. This baby girl couldn't read. She didn't write and make me curl her super thick hair and give me maximum sassiness when she disagreed with me. She was nice, and I miss her. </div>
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Here's another example, much worse: </div>
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Alana was only 3 months old in this picture, and the worst part about it isn't that I can't remember her as a baby, its that I paid Sears a large sum of money to take it. I had no idea how fast she would grow up, someone please tell 24 year old Jennifer to stop wishing her first baby was a toddler already, because you can't get that time back. <i>This little baby will be 8 and talking about boys and wearing braces before you know it 24 year old Jennifer, I know that's crazy because she doesn't even have teeth yet, but don't blink. Don't even think about it!</i></div>
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Another thing that no one bothers to mention in the whole pre-kids peptalk? With each kid, time goes faster. You think that time went fast when your first was a baby? When you probably had nothing more to do each day than sit around and stare at their face and watch old episodes of ER? WRONG. When you get to your second kid, and you want to sit around and stare at their tiny baby face while they sleep, you can't. Instead, you will have to put them down so that you can feed and clothe and keep your other kid alive. Then, when you think time cannot possibly go faster, your third kid comes along. Its highly possible by this point that at least one of your previous children will be in school, you know, because of the time warp thing. So each day, while your baby should be sleeping and being stared at by you, instead they are being placed in a carseat and brought along to pick up somebody from school. Instead of sleeping in and being held early in the morning, they are laying on the floor screaming while their mommy puts someone's hair in a ponytail and packs a lunch <i>(this scenario is only until their daddy gets out of bed and picks that sad baby up). </i>And then, because of the school errands and the field trips and the tons of early mornings and afternoon homework, you turn around and your third baby isn't so little anymore. He's 3, and he doesn't want to sleep on your chest while you stare at his face. He's a man now, he has no time for that. So then Timehop, because its a huge jerk, is like <i>Look at your little baby, he'll never be this small again blah blah blah go cry in the bathroom now. </i></div>
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That third baby and his insistence on growing up stings a little. And Timehop just <i>has </i>to rub it in. </div>
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By the grace of my fourth baby not being one yet, he is not included in my daily nostalgia and pictures of sadness, save the occasional ultrasound or picture of my belly from last summer. This only means one thing, Timehop is waiting about 3 months to start torturing me. Mid-November it will start in with the hospital pictures, pictures of Liam and his siblings, the 1,000 pictures of him sleeping, all of the pictures and heartache combined in one convenient (and free minus the cost of your tears!) app. That space/time paradox of your first 3 kids is nothing, and I mean NOTHING, compared to your fourth. With number 4 you likely have 2 kids in school, a very active 2 year old to keep alive/stop from smothering the baby, and tons of crap that doesn't involve staring at your baby to do. Even if you're lucky and your husband does all of the grocery shopping and buys you tons of cookies and soup from Panera, you will still have to do the dumb stuff, because he will go back to work. That stuff shouldn't even be necessary, staring at your baby should be number one on the list of priorities, eating is a close second and showering doesn't even rank on there. You can shower when they're grown up, or when you start to smell, whichever one comes first.<br />
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I am already bracing myself for the influx of tiny Liam pictures, but I don't think it will help. I don't think when I wake up 2 1/2 months from now and my guy is 1 that any mental preparation I have done will have me ready. Every picture will make me sad, every faded memory of holding him for the first time and squeezing in the maximum amount of snuggles with him will seem insufficient, because I will forget. Just like we forget the bad things, like contractions and stitches, the memories of the good stuff fade too. That fleeting time when their tiny butt fits into your hand and they're so sleepy that they lay on your chest and snore without any effort, that memory will become distant. All of the times that they pee all over the place and you have to change their clothes and yours at midnight, it will seem like another lifetime ago. And then Timehop will come in, acting like it owns the place, and let you know that <i>guess what? Your kids are growing up! And you can't remember what they used to be before they were wild preschoolers and first graders and third graders, not without all of these old pictures that will make you sad! So we'll help you remember, the only catch is that you will be sad afterwards! </i><br />
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This tiny guy is crawling now, and by the time he's a toddler I'm going to need Timehop and the depression that accompanies it, to remind me of a time when he did not try to eat anything left on the floor or pull my hair. So I guess I won't delete it just yet, maybe next year.<br />
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-91720235357669707802015-08-31T09:34:00.001-07:002015-08-31T09:46:01.482-07:00I'm Still Alive: An Update of SortsRemember that one time when I wrote one blog post approximately 3 months ago and then didn't even open my blog again for the rest of the summer or even one month into the school year? Yeah, that happened. I don't know that it was intentional, I would like to write more, but I've just felt kind of <i>eh </i>about it. I've kind of felt that way about everything for basically the whole month of August.<br />
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August has been one long and crappy month and I will be happy to bid it farewell at the end of the day. Some things are changing that I would prefer to stay the same, and some things I wish would change, but essentially have no control over. I don't want to go outside because its hot and crappy. My poor dog is stuck out there most of the time because her insane amount of hair bothers Liam. I was stuck outside for awhile on Friday because my van wouldn't start after I picked my kids up from school. I basically had no use of my kitchen sink for like a month and had to wash dishes in mixing bowls because I couldn't run water or use my dishwasher. I would prefer just to eat cookies for every meal but then I feel bleh afterwards, so I try to choose salad or what not instead. Being an adult is just basically the most overrated activity in the world.<br />
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In other news, despite my crappy outlook on life for the entire month of August (and probably a big chunk of June and July also), life has continued to go on. Liam is already 9 months old <i>insert sad face here </i>and he is inchworm crawling all over the place and trying to pull himself up to stand everywhere. He has zero teeth, he is working it with that gummy smile. This dude took his sweet time learning how to sit up without tipping over, but now he is sitting in all of the places. He is like the king of the shopping cart, sitting up front and trying to chew on it with all of its germs. Also, he's super chunky and only 3 ounces shy of weighing 20 pounds. Pretty sure all of that weight is in his thighs.<br />
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Another occurence in my summer blogging hiatus: Witten turned 3. My little guy isn't so little anymore. All traces of toddlerhood are gone. No chubby cheeks, no knuckle dimples. His arms and legs are long and skinny, and his opinions are iron clad and never changing. He's the epitome of stubborn, and just when I think I can't argue with him for another second, he's as sweet as can be. The last half hour of his day is when he reserves all of his affection. He gives me all of his smiles, kisses, and hugs, to compensate for any brattiness that may have taken place over the course of the day.<br />
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Ava, my other forgotten middle child, has ventured into first grade with maximum apprehension. She turned 6 in the middle of August, and if you think it was without tears you have not met Ava. She cried at her birthday party, because that's how she rolls, but presents made it better. Her attitude towards first grade is far less optimistic than kindergarten, and she is only now, one month into the school year, agreeing to join her class on the rug for story time. I know eventually she will come out of her shell and reveal her sassy personality to her teacher, but it will be a slow process. Either way, my fancy lady continues to be equal parts sweet and spunky, with a proud determination to be as girly as possible. She is all dresses and skirts, all the time, and only wears her one pair of shorts if I make her on days that she has P.E. She is full-time fancy, and its a hard job.<br />
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Alana, not to be forgotten, is proudly embracing third grade and her role as eternal teacher's pet. She got glasses over the summer (she is just far-sided and will probably outgrow it) and she got braces in February, so she is a proud nerd. She is eager to please, loves to make new friends, and continues to sing much louder than the car radio. She is the friendliest girl, she always has been. I know I will never have to worry about her not having anyone to talk to, because this girl is one chatty lady. I can't believe she will be 9 in a month, she's halfway to adulthood. Good thing she still plays with Barbies, I couldn't handle it if my first baby decided she was a grown up already.<br />
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When I look back through these pictures of my wild hooligans, I don't feel as bad about the crappy month of August. I have people who fix my stupid plumbing and people who give me and my 4 kids a ride home when my van won't start and people to share my cookies with. I have a very squishy little guy who just woke up and is complaining that I am typing instead of holding him, and a 3 year old who keeps making me change the channel after he has watched no more than 5 minutes of a TV show. So I guess I'll go hold my baby and change the channel, those things aren't going to do themselves. I'll be back next month, because my poor neglected blog deserves slightly more attention.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-50454950530389797812015-06-04T17:18:00.003-07:002015-06-04T17:18:55.707-07:00Farewell to TheeSo. The school year is over. Well, like 2 weeks ago. <i>Cue sad music. </i>I've come to terms with it, because hello, its been 2 weeks. But when it was fresh? I was a little emotional. It isn't that I don't <i>like </i>summer, even though its toasty and I feel as if I'm melting when I go outside. It is more that the beginning of summer signifies the end of a whole chapter of life. A whole year, gone with the blink of an eye.<br />
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So goodbye kindergarten, you were good to Ava.<br />
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You brought her first lost tooth, loads of new confidence, a love of reading, a few inches to her height, and a view into her future fashion sense that promises many years of fancy outfits with matching earrings. </div>
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Kindergarten, you were gentle with my girl on her first day, she didn't even cry. You gave her lots of preschool friends in her class, and a teacher she already loved. </div>
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You brought poems, books, field trips, concerts, Bobcat rallies, Ben's bell and Bobcat Citizen awards, and a Mother's Day flower I've already killed. <i>RIP flower, I had good intentions.</i> </div>
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And when you were over, you brought tears and lots of the feelings I was avoiding. You brought some awards, some smiles, and a goodbye with a teacher that I was hoping to postpone forever. </div>
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You brought my Ava a love of learning, an amazing teacher she will never forget, and the confidence to take on first grade. So thanks kindergarten, I'll hit you up when Witten turns 5. I can't promise he will be as well-behaved. </div>
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As for you second grade, you were less emotional. Alana is a veteran of this whole "school thing". She is a social butterfly, loves everyone, and is forgiving to a fault. So if I had one beef with you second grade, its that your kids can be a little rough around the edges. Less caring for one another, and more prone to pointing out each other's faults. My girl doesn't know how to be mean or callous, so I wish you could've taken it easier on her. </div>
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Second grade, why do your students have to be so growy? Why do they grow many inches, and get braces, and start to look oh so awkward? I like cute kids, this awkward business isn't cute. Do something about that please. </div>
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Second grade, you brought strengthened friendships and the ability to see Alana's true kindness. You, or your students to be more specific, weren't always kind. But did my girl let that make her mean? Of course not. She showed everyone that even when treated unfairly, she would not turn around and do the same. So when your kids were mean, she was still nice to them. When they told her things that hurt her feelings, and in the same turn, hurt mine, she never gave up on them. She showed those exact same people kindness again and again, no matter what. Even when I almost wished she wouldn't. </div>
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Second grade, you brought learning, laughter, lots of math that Alana was weirdly excited about, and friendships that I hope continue for a really long time. You brought Alana's first experiences with mean kids, and I'd like to think she came out okay. She's still friendly and incapable of doubting the kindness in others, and I hope she stays like that, so let third grade know to take it easy on her. I'll catch you on the flip side, in a year or so, and please try your best to be good to Ava, or else she might have to punch you in the face. </div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-37365504573376174822015-04-23T13:24:00.001-07:002015-04-23T13:27:21.410-07:00You may be right, I may be crazyI have diagnosed myself with a medical condition, its called Motherhood. Symptoms include exhaustion, being completely irrational, crying while watching commercials, crying for no reason, and crying at the OB/GYN office for no reason. There is no cure, there is only cookies to numb the pain. If you feel like Motherhood is also making you crazy, look at a sleeping baby/child, that usually helps me to remember that I like my children and should keep them.<br />
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The thing I never understood about my own personal struggle accepting Motherhood is when I was younger I didn't really plan on having kids. Then it happened, and now I wonder if I will ever regain my sanity. Four kids later and Motherhood has run its course on me, I have all of the symptoms, especially the crying ones. It would appear that I cannot visit my doctor's office without crying at some point, even if that point happens in my minivan (another symptom of Motherhood) while sitting in the parking lot. While I feel happy with the amount of children I have, and my youngest is only 5 months old, I still get sad when I see a lot of pregnant women. Its not rational, its not explainable, but it happens. </div>
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The number one question I am asked since being diagnosed with Motherhood is <i>Are you done having kids? </i>I would like to know what the appropriate answer is. I usually say yes, 4 is probably fine and I'm pushing the limits of my sanity as it is. But in reality, its more complicated than that. <i>Do I feel </i><i> ready to let go of that part of my life? </i>No. <i>Do I think 5 is that big of a difference and I would be infinitely more crazy? </i>No again. <i>Does the thought of never having more babies make me a little sad? </i>Of course, babies are the best and I would have 10 if I could. There's a big emotional and insane part of me that can relate to the Duggars and their 19 children, because if I could keep having babies indefinitely and never run out of newborn snuggles and slobbery baby kisses and super fat baby thighs, I probably would. <i>Would I be poor and crazy for doing so?</i> Without a doubt. But look at this baby:</div>
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This baby is worth whatever I went through to get him. He is sweet and fat and slobbers all over the place. I like to squish him all day and he can't roll over yet because I hate to put him down but I don't care cause I don't want him getting into stuff yet. This baby is perfect, and if I had permanently said I was "done" having babies after I had Witten, I wouldn't have this fat baby to squeeze. I thought I didn't want more, but crazy old me was wrong. </div>
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I will never say I'm "done" with babies, even if I don't have any more. Because Motherhood has caused such permanent insanity that I cannot bring myself to do so. Yes, pregnancy is physically one of the hardest things to do, and yes, raising kids and giving up both sleep and mental clarity is challenging, but fat babies make it worth it. That's why all mothers are all a little insane, and cry over commercials and grieve over things that will never happen, because fat babies made them do it. A fat baby is making me type this right now, and I always do what he says. He's very convincing.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look into my eyes Mommy. You will do what I say, and you will like it. </td></tr>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-38848807179351516722015-03-31T20:47:00.003-07:002015-03-31T20:47:59.903-07:00 A Really Long Post About Disneyland (because I know you're all dying to know)We survived Disneyland with 4 kids. I feel like this is an accomplishment that deserves a medal or something. At least a bumper sticker. I can't say David and I can take all of the credit, since my aunt was there too and I think my kids prefer her to us, but still. We did it. And it was mostly fun.<br />
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The first day we drove halfway there, and mostly made good time except for an accidental detour south where we were closer to Rocky Point than Anaheim that may have been my fault. We stayed in Blythe, which isn't a place anyone willingly visits otherwise, but it worked out well because it made our next day of driving a lot shorter. The first place we went was the beach, because at some point we had to show our children the ocean. We typically avoid the beach, and probably will in the future also. Alana went down too close to the water despite my warnings. Then she got knocked down by a big wave (I really wanted to say "I told you so" right about then). So she cried, then Witten got wet when I had to get her, so he cried. Then Ava cried because she's Ava. So no more beach visits from us in the near future.<br />
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Later that night we went to downtown Disney, bought some Legos, and ate our first round of churros and a giant pizza. I also made sure to buy the girl's mouse ear hats (and get their names on them) right away so they could wear them every day of our trip. Getting the kids to go to sleep that night was difficult, because DISNEYLAND. <i>The next night after a day of Disneyland was much easier. </i>We woke up first thing the next morning for our first day, and only day of regular Disneyland.<br />
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First thing we did was go to The Plaza for breakfast with Minnie Mouse. Out of every character meal, this one is the best value. You see tons of characters, plus its all-you-can-eat breakfast so you are full for awhile after. We eat our money's worth of bacon, plus we see Minnie Mouse.<br />
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When it comes to my kids and the characters, they have all mostly loved them. It comes as no surprise that Alana loves all of them all the time. She cried once meeting Pluto when she was one, but other than that hugs every character ever. Ava has taken more time to warm up to these giant rodents. She was deathly afraid when we took her at 18 months, but one year later she was hesitant but okay with them, as long as Alana went with her to meet them. Witten though, he was a big fan from the very first character, which happened to be Rafiki from The Lion King. He hugged everyone, smiled the whole time, high fived them, kissed them, gave them fist bumps, basically everything you could imagine. He loved all of them.<br />
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I will now present to you the worst castle picture in the history of ever. Bad enough it didn't make it to Facebook. I'm betting half of you have given up on this post by now and won't see it, that's the only reason I will post it. Its bad-ness is determined by how dumb I look. I should've found my sunglasses. Lesson learned.<br />
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Moving on then.<br />
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Since we did not buy park hopper tickets, and everything Frozen was at California Adventure, we only spent one day at regular Disney, then two at California Adventure. So we basically went on a string of rides all together till we were too exhausted to walk anymore. We did Buzz Lightyear (one of our favorites of all time), then Dumbo, the teacups, Its a Small World, Pirates (where David and I happened to see Robin Thicke getting on the ride in the handicapped entrance because famous people get to skip lines which is bs), then the girls went on the Jungle Cruise with my aunt while the boys napped. Later the girls and David went on Big Thunder Mountain, then we went on Haunted Mansion and Buzz Lightyear again. That seems like a lot typing it, it was even more exhausting in person. I tried my first Dole Whip, which I just thought was eh (I don't know how I call myself a Disney fan if I don't like it), we had some churros of course, and corndogs which are always amazing there, and David and I split a plate of awesome carne asada and enchiladas. We accomplished pretty much all we could while our feet would still carry us where we wanted. We skipped parades and rides that we know are a waste of time to wait in their lines (I'm looking at you Snow White's Scary Adventure), and then ended our first day with a magical spin on King Arthur's Carousel.<br />
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Our second day was spent in California Adventure. We hadn't been since it was under construction, so we hadn't seen Cars Land. We went first thing when the park opened, because is there any other way??? We skipped the fast pass line for Radiator Springs Racers, which is as long as the line for the ride. David and the girls went on that ride first thing, because its the most popular ride in the park. I ate mini churros and met Lightning McQueen, so I have no regrets.<br />
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After that ride we ate breakfast at Flo's V-8 Cafe in Cars Land, because their chicken tamales were on my to-do list. I basically go on vacation to eat. The tamales lived up to the hype, in case you're wondering. They were paired with eggs and salsa verde and just thinking about them makes me want to go back to eat them again. We spent the next part of our day as hostages to Frozen. We went to the sing-along, which recaps the movie with SO MUCH YELL SINGING BY CHILDREN. My kids loved it. They sang, they yell-sang, they had stars in their eyes. It was really magical. One of the best parts of the trip, honestly. Then by some stroke of luck that involved a cast member giving us fast passes to meet Anna and Elsa, the girls met their favorite princesses. That was another highlight. Ava ranked her excitement at an 18 on a scale of 1-10. That's how excited they were.<br />
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The rest of our day there we went on small rides, the girls rode the Silly Symphony Swings twice in a row with my aunt, we ate dinner at Pacific Wharf and I got a giant peanut butter and chocolate sundae from Ghiradelli, so I could check another item off of my "to be eaten" list, and we went back to Paradise Pier to ride the carousel and Toy Story Mania.<br />
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Right after Toy Story Mania our vacation almost ended. Witten tripped getting off of the ride and I was holding his hand. I didn't want him to fall, so I didn't let go, and his skinny little wrist made a popping sound when he fell. He then cried and wouldn't let go of his wrist, so we ended up having to go to first-aid. They basically have no power to do anything but give you a list of urgent care centers nearby and give you some children's tylenol. After he wouldn't stop crying, but still didn't want to leave, we ended up calling it a day. At that point we didn't think his wrist was broken, but he was obviously in pain. I felt so bad for him. The next day when he woke up he was still hurting, and we didn't have any children's tylenol, so David had to work some pharmacy technician magic and use regular ibuprofen and make it into a children's dose. It worked and we did not have to cancel the last day of our vacation. Crisis averted.<br />
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The last day we went to Ariel's Grotto for the princess breakfast. I have to say, this meal used to be so much better. It used to be family style, all-you-can-eat. They would bring huge amounts of bacon, sausage, waffles, eggs, potatoes, fruit, bread, cheese, everything. Now you get one entree, but for the same price. We made sure to tell our girls that this would be our final visit to the princess breakfast, but they are getting older (sad face) and are more interested in the rides so they were okay with that. They still loved seeing the princesses, but next time they can wait in line if they want to meet them.<br />
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After breakfast we went on Mickey's Fun Wheel, but not a swinging one, because those freak me out. My kids loved it, of course, but David hates it so he waited down on the ground and my children were amused because he looked like a tiny ant down on the ground. Then we went to Cars Land again, because its really awesome, and we visited the Cozy Cone, because delicious food in cones (we had churros, chili, and ice cream) is always good. Then the girls went on a bunch of rides with my aunt while the boys napped and David and I ate a second lunch because we could. I highly recommend the chicken tamales with scrambled eggs and salsa verde or the turkey dip sandwich with gravy so good you might want to drink it after the sandwich is gone (I'm not saying whether any of us did or did not do that). Both of those are at Flo's V8 Cafe in Cars Land. They also have apple cheddar pie that's really good, it could just use a scoop of ice cream.<br />
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Late in the afternoon of our last day we decided to go back to our hotel for a little while, since Witten needed pain medicine for his wrist. That was about when Ava decided to announce she wanted her face painted. Right as we were about to leave. I wish she would've mentioned that earlier, because she would've looked so very cute with some fairy princess face paint. Next time I will make it a point to ask her on the first day if she wants face paint. We ran into a couple of characters on our way out, most importantly Mickey!<br />
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Later on our last day we went back to the park for a few hours. We wanted to ride Toy Story Mania one more time and we really want to see Cars Land at night. It was awesome, by the way. We slowed walked through the park, ate our last churros, bought a few mouse-shaped treats and an amazing s'mores bar for me that I keep thinking about, looked at the lights (its so magical at nighttime), and bought the last of our souvenirs before bidding the happiest place on earth goodbye. Its always sad to leave, no matter how tired your feet are, how exhausted the kids are, and how much you just want to sleep in your own bed. Life outside of Disneyland is just not as magical. If somebody offered me a churro every 100 yards or so I could see things looking up. Until then, real life isn't as fun, that's the brutal truth.<br />
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I'm so glad we had this vacation and time as a family. It was fun having my aunt there at the same time as us, and for a few brief hours my cousin and her boyfriend. My kids still get excited about everything there, and honestly, I feel like a kid again when I'm there too. I feel nostalgic just walking into Main Street, and seeing the castle all lit up at night is seriously magical. If I could go more I would, and I don't think any of the magic would ever wear off. This trip had a couple of low points, like our super fun visit to first aid and an unplanned detour, but the high points outweighed those by far. Frozen sing-along, meeting Anna and Elsa, Witten hugging every character and looking at everything with such wonder in his eyes, those things all made it worth it. My advice for other Disney vacationers is to eat as many churros as you can, and never pass up a rare character if you see one (if that's what you're into, I know my kids are). When you see a character, if there is a cast member at the end of the line, do not waste your time trying to get into line. That person has the worst job there, they are at the end of the line to let you know Mickey is about to take a potty break, so better luck next time. You should also savor every second there, try a corndog, and get in the back line for a Dole whip, its literally 5 people long, when the front line rivals the one to Space Mountain. I can't wait till our next trip, I will never outgrow my love of Disneyland!Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-12384892509412421072015-02-27T07:00:00.000-08:002015-02-27T07:00:00.324-08:00Fourth kid problemsSo Liam is 3 months old, and I have yet to do any type of monthly post about how big he is getting. I did it with Ava and Witten, but come on now people, I have 4 kids and zero time. So for now, I guess I will post about the last 3 months and how cute and squishy he is getting. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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At one month old Liam weighed just under 10 lbs, and was still wearing newborn clothes and newborn diapers. He was still a skinny little guy, and he slept a good chunk of every day. He liked to stare at me while I held him and sleep on my chest. He had his first bath at about 3 weeks and was unimpressed. </div>
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At two months old my sweet guy finally learned to smile, but he still enjoys the occasional scowl every now and then. He weighed 11 lbs 8 oz at his doctor's appointment that month, and was finally wearing his 0-3 month clothes and a size 1 diaper. When I switched him from newborn diapers it was more because I had run out and didn't want to buy more of that size when I had a bunch of size 1 diapers, but by this point he could fill out a size 1 with his chunky thighs. He loved to be held and smile at me, he is a really social baby. If I could do nothing but stare at him all day I probably would. </div>
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Now at 3 months Liam is around 12 pounds, and really really squishy. He smiles at me every time and look at him and loves to sit and talk to me whenever he can. He also loves his sisters and brother, even though they basically smother him with their affection. He takes quite a few naps throughout the day, but especially loves to sleep on my chest. He is still not a huge fan of taking a bath, but luckily for him he is the fourth kid and doesn't get a lot of baths. There was actually a point last week when I could not recall the last time I had given him a bath, so he got one that day. I have to wash his hair pretty often because everyone is always touching it and it gets greasy. I prefer his hair to be clean because then its all fuzzy and sticks up. </div>
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Liam is the sweetest little chubby guy, and I'm so happy to have been surprised by his appearance in our family. He is the perfect baby to complete our family, and I plan on holding him and squeezing him every day so he knows how much I like him, even if I don't have time to bathe him. </div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-53287026281530378492015-02-26T19:27:00.000-08:002015-02-26T19:27:12.913-08:00You're only as old as you feel, or so I've been told<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Whoa man, fire is amazing...." -Liam<br />
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If you are only as old as you feel, I feel 33. That's my actual age though. Its not possible to feel any younger. I mean, I have 4 kids. Its hard to feel 25 when you have 4 kids. You aren't going out to party if you have 4 kids, you are staying home and playing Legos. At this point, now that I am this age, I don't feel like its old. But when I was a kid, and my parents were this age, I definitely thought they were old. Like, really old. They didn't have wrinkles or gray hair, but they were old. And they weren't cool either. Parents aren't cool, not when they're yours. <div>
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Proof that I give zero craps about my birthday at this point in my life can be found in one fact: I scheduled myself a doctor's appointment on my birthday. I could've opted to stay home, or I could've gone out to eat at a restaurant, or anything else that would've been much funner than going to the doctor. And then when I got there I almost cried because of <a href="http://jenniferkloos-ruiz.blogspot.com/2012/03/dont-mind-me-i-just-cry-in-public.html" target="_blank">reasons</a> and a shared birthday with my former doctor who just happened to pass away 3 years ago. Then I was all sad again because I was reminded of what a great doctor he was, and I had to come home and eat pie and even that didn't make me feel better. Pie can't heal all wounds, I've lived long enough to learn this. </div>
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I guess at this point I mostly don't mind that I'm getting older. I mean, my 20s were not nearly as good as my 30s so far. I have four perfectly bratty kids, a cute little house, a husband that does the dishes on my birthday, and tons of friends and family that I love. I don't appreciate the fine lines in the corners of my eyes, but what can you do? Maybe tomorrow when I wake up I'll feel 30 or so again, but either way I'm having pie for breakfast. </div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-87224536193661525262015-02-04T12:25:00.001-08:002015-02-04T12:27:39.196-08:00Teach Your Children KindnessIt pains me that there are already mean girls in elementary school. I hate that I can't protect my sweet girls from everything. It is tragic that even starting at age 5, girls feel like they are in competition with each other. Instead of being taught that other girls are their allies, girls are being shown that they should feel threatened. Instead of being a friend to everyone no matter what, girls are instead choosing to make their friendships conditional. As in, <i>do what I want all of the time or we can't be friends. </i>Its sad that little girls who shouldn't have anything to worry about spend their time and their tears on people who are only going to get meaner. If someone is already a bully or a mean girl in second grade, imagine having to deal with that person in middle school. I would prefer not to, and I wish my kids didn't have to either.<br />
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I constantly tell my girls to choose kindness. Be a friend to everyone. You don't have to like everyone, but you still have to be nice them. Its not being fake to be nice to people that you don't like, its being a good person. Of course I don't like everybody on the planet, but this isn't high school, I'm an adult. I still have to be nice, and if I have to do it, then so do my kids.<br />
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There is a shortage of kindness everywhere, I don't want my kids to ever be an example of that. That's why I emphasize the importance of being nice. That's why I don't tolerate them even speaking to each other in a mean tone of voice. Saying what you feel is one thing. Saying hurtful things is another. Once you say something, you can't take it back, so you should make sure you mean it and don't make it mean.<br />
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Maybe the problem isn't that little girls are destined to be mean, but that no one is teaching them any different. No one is showing them that their actions have consequences. No one is modeling how you should treat your friends, maybe they aren't very good friends themselves. Children learn by example, so if all they see is negativity, that's how they act. That's how they will treat their peers, and they will end up hurting people who don't deserve it.<br />
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I'm choosing to teach my kids to be nice no matter what. I want them to be kind to people, even if that isn't what is given to them in return. I want the world that they grow up to live in to be filled with good people, so I'm doing my best to make sure that my contribution is just that: kind and honest people. They might be imperfect, but they'll never be mean.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-22258681938007656362014-12-31T13:55:00.000-08:002014-12-31T13:55:44.184-08:00Highlights or somethingLast year I posted a <a href="http://jenniferkloos-ruiz.blogspot.com/2014/01/2013-sort-of-review.html" target="_blank">review of 2013</a> and to say it went on forever would be an understatement. It was long. I am not repeating all of that work, my goal is less than <strike>20</strike> 100 photos here. I think that's manageable. I'm all about lowering my standards this year. 2015: the year where I reduce my expectations.<br />
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In 2014 I started out not really having any official goals or anything. I basically was just doing what I always do, cleaning my house and brushing lots of kid hair and eating cookies. Pretty standard really. Life was pretty simple, nothing too serious happened. We just hung out.<br />
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In February we continued to do nothing. We hung out, the kids celebrated Valentines Day, I got older and pretended my birthday didn't happen. Basic February stuff.<br />
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In March I found out I was pregnant, but also we pretty much stayed at home while I tried not to throw up or freak out about having 4 kids.<br />
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In April there was Easter, and various field trips, and also me trying not to throw up.<br />
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In May Alana had field day, Ava graduated from preschool, and Witten continued to act like a crazy person.<br />
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In June Witten turned 2, I officially had to start wearing maternity clothes, and we stayed inside because air conditioning. </div>
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In July we hung out at home for the 4th of July where my children all ran back inside screaming because they were scared of the fireworks, we found out baby #4 was a boy, and school started back up, this time with Alana going to 2nd grade and Ava going to kindergarten. </div>
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In August Ava turned 5, I hung out at home with Witten in our air conditioning, and I did as little as possible because it was so hot outside. I literally felt like I was melting every afternoon when I went to pick the girls up from school, so there was no way I was going out any more than I had to.<br />
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In September I really cannot think of anything out of the ordinary that we did. Pretty much every picture I have from that month is at our house, so clearly we did nothing exciting.<br />
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In October Alana turned 8, we celebrated Halloween, and I ate approximately 50 mini Reese's peanut butter cups from my kids Halloween candy. I believe that's quite an accomplishment, not that I'm bragging.<br />
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In November we welcomed Liam into our family, which was a pretty big event. Besides Thanksgiving I tried to spend the rest of the month at home as much as possible, mostly because I was tired and didn't want to fall asleep in public.<br />
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In December we pretended that our Christmas tree hadn't been up since Veteran's day, David wrapped all of our presents because I kind of hate doing it, and we celebrated Christmas which involved way too many presents. It was Liam's first Christmas, not that he cared about anything but staring at the lights on the tree, and all of our kids were so spoiled by everybody that I'm still opening toy boxes.<br />
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Although it doesn't look like we really did a lot this year, everything and nothing changed for us. We added another person, but our lives were already about spending time together and keeping things low key. Liam has made our family complete, and after 2014 nothing will ever be the same, but that's okay with me, because I like everything the way it is right now.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-51840943462108509232014-12-31T08:54:00.001-08:002014-12-31T10:37:07.020-08:00New year, same meI don't necessarily believe in New Year's resolutions. I mean, I get wanting to improve yourself/be healthier/etc. That's fine. But why wait? Life doesn't reset when the year changes, all that is different is the calendar. I typically don't even bother making resolutions, plus, I hate exercise. This year I did decide to quit eating processed sugar/sweets for the month of January, but I'm not counting that as a resolution. I'm considering that a way to stop eating cookies every day of my life, nothing against cookies.<br />
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I am okay with being the same me I was in 2014 for all of 2015, minus a few hundred cookies. 2014 was good, it brought a lot of surprises. I started it with 3 kids, and my "baby" was 18 months old. Then life decided 3 kids was too easy, 3 kids wasn't a big enough challenge. In March I found out I was going to have a 4th kid, because clearly I had too much time on my hands with just the 3. I was apprehensive, because I have little sanity left at the end of the day, but things turned out okay. This guy is pretty cute, so that helps. <i>He is also very serious when he's asleep. </i><br />
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Even after 2014 brought me a surprise baby, I still can't be mad at it. This is pretty generous of 2014 after all, I didn't even ask it for anything, and I didn't give it anything in return. All I did was keep on going on through my life, trying and sometimes failing to do my best. Sometimes I just said <i>Screw it!</i> and quit things while I was ahead, but I'm okay with that. I can live with my choices.<br />
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I've never been someone who was inherently unhappy with who they are. I'm more of a <i>I can't really change most things so its easier to accept them </i>kind of person. I don't look at this as settling for things, I look at it as being realistic. I'm always going to be the same kind of person, no matter what the year on the calendar says. It doesn't matter what I weigh, what I wear, how many cookies I eat although I'm working on reducing that number, or where I am in life. I would rather just be happy being myself than anxiously waiting for January every year to try and change who I am. <i>Or maybe I'm just too lazy to make resolutions. That's probably part of it. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-46717437171333999772014-12-18T13:12:00.002-08:002014-12-18T13:12:37.619-08:00It gets easier. And it gets harder. So you want to know what life is like with 4 kids? I'll tell you. Its basically pretty much the same as life with 3 kids, but there's a baby and I like to stare at him and cry about how fast he is growing.<br />
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With 4 kids it gets harder to get all of your children in the same picture, even if its Thanksgiving. So you settle for 3 out of 4, because Witten is a very stubborn kid.<br />
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Even taking a family picture becomes more difficult, especially when you have to wake up a sleeping 2 year old to do it.<br />
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With 4 kids it gets harder to get all of your children to bed on time every night. Not the girls, or Liam. But once again, my stubborn Witten, who enjoys rolling over excessively and talking and has to have someone lay down with him or he will not stay in bed. He is quite handsome though, this stubborn guy.<br />
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With 4 kids it gets harder to maintain my sanity. Most of my day is really quiet, since the girls are at school and I'm here with a 2 year old and a newborn. But once the girls come home the noise starts again, there are children fighting over dumb things, and someone is always crying. That's about when my patience starts to grow thin and I countdown till bedtime because I'm tired. So tired.<br />
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A few things are slightly easier, mostly because my girls are good helpers when they're home. They fetch things and throw away dirty diapers and can mostly get things for themselves, <i>except that I keep the cereal in too high of a cupboard so I kind of kick myself about that all of the time. Curse my lack of a pantry. </i>Its easier to realize that I'm really lucky to have all of these wild children, even if they make me crazy. Its easier to fall asleep at night, once Witten finally crashes out at least. Its easier to enjoy my cozy little house filled with small loud people and my husband who vacuums when he realizes that I must be exhausted because there is popcorn all over the floor and I have not moved. And its easier to recognize that my kids need me and I need them, even when I'm watching Property Brothers at 3 am and do not know how I'm going to function the next day. Liam likes a good home improvement show, what can I say?<br />
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When I think about how empty my life would be without my kids, I appreciate them even more.<br />
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I appreciate this girl for her sweet and friendly nature. I know she would never mistreat someone, or bully them. She is a friend to everyone, even people she has just met. She is generous with her hugs, and never afraid to tell someone how she feels, even if its through a Christmas card that she hand wrote, she doesn't let her feelings remain a mystery, she tells people that she cares and that's a good quality to have.<br />
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And this girl might be shy at first, but she is so loving and sweet and sensitive you would never think that she has anything but good intentions. She has become more assertive since she started school, mostly with Alana, but I know that just means that she isn't willing to let people push her around. Her teacher told me yesterday that if she could have a whole class of Avas, she would. I think that would almost be too much Ava, you would go through a lot of turkey sandwiches and cookies at lunchtime, and you would always be waiting on all of the Avas to button their jacket or find their backpack. She is sweet enough to make up for anything though, and her squeaky little voice is always singing, so I guess I will keep her.<br />
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I have to appreciate Witten for keeping me entertained during the day. He talks nonstop, and just when I think I might sell him, he gives me the sweetest smile or hug and I decide to hold off on any sales. He is equal parts stubborn, wild, and sweet, and he knows exactly how to get whatever he wants, which usually means he gets to eat chips for half of his meals. Tell this face no, I dare you.<br />
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I don't even know where to start with this guy. He is already one month old, and its physically painful to watch him grow so fast. I can't imagine life without him, even though if you had asked me one year ago I would've said I was completely done having babies. I'm sure when this boy learns to smile in a couple of weeks I'll be even more obsessed with him, but for now I'll just continue to stare at him all the time and cry.<br />
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I don't know how I ended up with the life I have, but I'm happy with it, even if its exhausting. My kids drive me crazy, but I find sanity is overrated anyway.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-50404171257301027592014-12-07T10:57:00.000-08:002014-12-07T11:00:44.574-08:00Weird things to be sad aboutWhen most people look back at the time they spent pregnant, I doubt they miss it. Really, its physically difficult. And there's many hormones, so you're a little crazy. But all of that aside, I'm always sad to be done with it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">39 weeks pregnant, the day before I had Liam</td></tr>
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Its a weird feeling, to miss being this uncomfortable. But once the baby is out, they start to grow up. Once they are out, you have to share them. Once they are out, you get significantly less sleep, for like, ever. I miss the kicking and the belly and the joyful anticipation of expecting to meet a new little person. I don't get it, but after pregnancy is over its like I forget that I spent so many months not really feeling that great. That part seems insignificant, because there's a baby. And pregnancy is much easier than labor, and actually having to push out a baby. That part is made better because epidurals, but its still not the easiest thing you'll ever do. </div>
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Pregnancy makes you irrational. You do strange things, like dress up as a jack o'lantern for Halloween, then eat all of the Reeses out of your kids candy. You are slightly grouchier, compounded by the endless dumb comments people make, especially when they find out you already have 3 other kids. Everyone wants to know if you're "done" but in all honesty, I will never feel "done". I will always feel sad that I'm not having more <strike>kids </strike>babies. I will always miss those kicks, even the forceful ones. And I know how fast babies grow up, Liam is already going to be 3 weeks old tomorrow. That will always make me ache just a little, or a lot, because you can't get that time back.<br />
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I got sad when I had to leave the hospital after having Liam. Not because I didn't want to go home, although at home no one brings me ice water and drugs at the push of a button, but because it felt so final. I cried when my doctor came to check on me, because I knew that this was my last baby he would deliver. I got teary being wheeled out of my hospital room, because it felt like a whole chapter of my life was done with. The whole part of my life where I'm pregnant/have a tiny new baby is over, and I don't know how to get closure. I don't know how to be okay with it, and having more kids isn't the answer, because I was sad to not be pregnant anymore after each of my kids. </div>
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Once you aren't pregnant anymore, and I mean like a day later, its hard to remember exactly how it feels to be pregnant. Maybe in some cases this is so women will have more than one child. If they remembered exactly how miserable its possible to be, they would never want to be pregnant again. I'm not saying pregnancy is easy, or that its never miserable, which makes it that much weirder to miss it. One day you can't see or even reach your feet, and then suddenly the next day there they are, right where you left them. One day you have this massive hard, round belly. The next day its smaller, more awkward, and even though you still kind of look pregnant, no one is in there kicking you. </div>
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The only thing that's worse to me than not remembering exactly how it feels to be pregnant is forgetting what my kids were like as babies. You forget how small they start out, and that memory of a freshly delivered baby on your chest, whose little butt fits perfectly in your hand, it fades. You forget how much they really sleep, because all you can remember is how tired you were. You forget when they first learned to smile, because that time when they hadn't learned yet is so short and fleeting. You forget how amazing a freshly bathed newborn baby smells, because even the cleanest kid smells a little bit like dirt. </div>
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Maybe there's a reason we don't remember, because its too sad. Because the ache of thinking of how fast they grow is too much to bear, and we as moms cannot handle it. They change quickly, but gradually, so that one day you blink and your baby is grown up and you don't know exactly how you got to this place. Suddenly they are too big to snuggle on your chest, but conveniently big enough to read you books. They don't need your help to do everything, but you still need them because without them you don't even know what to do with yourself. I guess its not that weird of a thing to be sad about, even if you're powerless to change it, pregnancy is only 9 months, and childhood is even shorter. </div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-23874850058357741402014-12-01T12:17:00.003-08:002014-12-01T12:17:48.879-08:00Baby Number 4 - My Favorite Surprise EverLet's be real here, I was not planning on having any more kids after Witten. And at the time that I got pregnant, I did not have baby fever. David did, but not me. I was pretty apprehensive at the thought of having 4 kids, because I was barely hanging on to that last shred of sanity with 3 kids. But, I came around to the idea. I kind of had no choice about it right? And now, I'm glad I had this guy, I'll probably keep him. Also, I'm including his birth story in this post, and its far from graphic, but if you don't want to read it, just scroll through the pictures.<br />
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I knew when his birthday would be for almost 2 weeks before I had him, but that still didn't mean I was prepared. Sure, I stocked up on muffins and cookies at Panera on my way to the hospital, and I brought my camera, but I would've gladly kept him in there despite any discomfort caused by pregnancy. To say this was my least comfortable pregnancy would be an understatement, but I didn't have anything serious wrong with me so I'm really grateful for that. I can live with round ligament pain, I'm just glad I've never had anything worse than that. And even though I had an entire 12 days to mentally prepare, I still didn't take any belly shots until the sun was about to go down the day before I had him. Call it denial, whatever, but putting makeup on any earlier in the day was not something I had the energy for.<br />
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My doctor let me elect to get induced at 39 weeks, because Dr Decker is the greatest doctor ever and clearly does not want to anger pregnant women. Since 39 weeks happened to fall on a Sunday, I went in the next day to get induced 6 days early. When I say I was unsure about being ready, I mean it. I didn't want to get out of the van when we got to the hospital. Its amazing David didn't have to drag me in there kicking and screaming. I considered making a run for it while David and I sat in the waiting area waiting for a nurse to come get me, even after we laughed at a couple who were clearly first time parents who brought their carseat and base into the delivery room with them. I would've run, but I wasn't very fast.<br />
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I ended up with the same labor and delivery nurse that I had with Witten, and she recognized David and I at about the same time that we were thinking she looked familiar. It was nice to have someone I had already met and who had held my leg up once before. She said she always volunteered to take Dr Decker's patients, so she was bound to end up with me anyway.<br />
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When I finally got all hooked up to everything and the doctor broke my water around 8, I was only dilated to like 2. Since it was 6 days before my due date and my baby had no intentions of coming out on his own anytime soon, I knew it was going to be a long day. I basically laid in my bed all day, waiting, while David watched ESPN. I changed the channel a couple of times, but daytime TV is garbage and I honestly did not really care what was on. At 2 pm, after I had pitocin and an epidural so strong my legs felt like they weighed 100 pounds each, I was at 5. That kind of made me feel like I was going to be laying in that bed the rest of my life. I felt like that for no reason though, since when my doctor came to check on me at 3 I was at 9. Hope returned, eventually I would be able to move and eat again!<br />
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I was at the end of a crappy head cold at this point in my pregnancy, so I couldn't breathe through my nose. I will just say that makes labor a little bit harder, because anytime you are doing that much work it is useful to be able to breathe. After the nurse and David help up my 100 pound legs for about 30 minutes of pushing without breathing through my nose, I finally had a baby at 4:50 PM, and he had no plans of coming out of there on his own.<br />
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David cut the cord, which he always tries to opt out of, but they basically gave him no choice with either of the boys. He would prefer just to observe.<br />
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This studly little guy was 7 pounds and 19 inches long, my smallest baby. Everyone always forgets how small babies start out, because they grow so fast. I love when they are brand new and snuggle up on my chest and their little butt fits perfectly into my hand. I don't want to forget how that feels, I hate that it goes so fast. He is officially my last baby, my little surprise guy.<br />
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I took many many pictures of him in the hospital. I had him at 5 on Monday, but I couldn't walk until about 9:30-10, so I couldn't take any pictures until late that night and the next morning. I definitely made up for lost time though, I took more pictures of him than of my other kids. Witten is probably a close second, but I maybe have 2 pictures of Alana and Ava from right after they were born. I blame my crappy point and shoot camera and the fact that Pinterest hadn't been invented yet to give me ideas. I wish I had taken more pictures with the girls, but I make up for it now by taking too many pictures of them as bigger kids.<br />
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David had to leave at about 8 to go home and take care of the older kids, so that left me with nurses carrying me to the bathroom when I still couldn't feel my legs. One of those nurses brought me Oreos in the middle of the night, which should be a thing every night when you've just had a baby. I was tired and hungry, and I'm really grateful for all of the people who brought me food while I was in the hospital, it really is much more useful than flowers. A pumpkin pie bagel is so much better than flowers, and a burrito bowl from Chipotle is far superior to some balloons or stuffed animals. Not to mention all of the good food David went to get, even though he didn't stay overnight with me either night, he still got me pizza and cookies and Chinese food. <i>Much better than flowers</i>.<br />
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Because Liam wasn't born until the evening and it was a school night, the girls and Witten didn't get to meet him until the next day. I knew the girls would be obsessed with him, but since Witten had been insisting I was having a baby dog the whole time I was pregnant, I didn't know what he would think. It turned out that he likes him though, luckily, even if he isn't a dog.<br />
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You know how when your kids aren't around and you miss them? I missed my older kids, that is until they came to the hospital and visited at "quiet time" and they were the opposite of quiet. I was glad they got to come see their new brother, but then I was glad when they went home because they trashed my hospital room and ran around yelling the whole time.<br />
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I had to stay for 48 hours after having him because I had Group B strep, and I was glad for the extra time to sort of rest while I was there. The food isn't gourmet, but all you have to do when you need something is press a button and nurses bring you drugs and ice water no matter what time of day it is. Good nurses make a huge difference, especially to me, because after David leaves I will literally talk to anyone who comes to my room because I'm so bored.<br />
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I feel like even though I didn't really plan on having a fourth kid, obviously the universe had a different plan. Now that he is here, I'm so happy to have him and to have that one last chance to hold a tiny perfect baby. At the beginning of my pregnancy the nurse practitioner at my doctor's office asked me if I was happy to be pregnant, and I wasn't sure of the answer. I think I replied something about how I couldn't really change it either way, so I may as well be happy about it. But really, I didn't know how I felt about it for awhile. Of course my doctor made it easier to survive that last part by inducing me, but I was apprehensive the whole time. I just didn't know what I was thinking, adding another boy to our house, but it turned out okay.<br />
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I'm glad that this boy surprised me by joining our family, even if it meant I couldn't bend over for awhile and just looking at spaghetti gave me heartburn. I'm happy to have one more baby to love and I know that this bittersweet feeling of knowing that part of my life is over won't ever go away, I'm glad that I got to have 4 easy pregnancies and 4 healthy babies. I got induced 3 out of 4 times, and I am so grateful for an awesome doctor who took care of me and delivered 3 out of 4 of my babies. Its funny how attached you get to your doctor when you are pregnant, because such a vital piece of your life is in their hands. That's a big part of why I like getting induced, because you are guaranteed your own doctor. I'm happy to have a husband who will hold my leg while I have a baby, then go get me a pizza afterward because I'm starving. I guess I'll keep him too, he's okay. That's why I let him watch ESPN the whole time I was in labor, I like him. I'm glad to have him and these 4 people who have basically kept me from sleeping through the night for like 8 years.<br />
<br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-20202061333904578262014-11-05T08:45:00.000-08:002014-11-05T08:45:37.391-08:00Home Stretch and Halloween Type StuffAt this point in pregnancy, when I am a few days past 37 weeks, I am in denial. Do not try to tell me I will have a baby soon. I will disagree with you, and arguing with a pregnant woman is both stupid and dangerous. Am I ready? Yes and no. I'm sort of ready. I have all the stuff I need. I'm feeling quite pregnant and bending over would be nice. But do I think having a baby is easier than being pregnant? NO. First, there's labor, which is tiring. Then you have to actually keep the baby alive, which is tiring. And I have 3 other kids to keep alive, which is tiring. <i>These kids expect me to feed them like at least 3 times a day and stuff. Talk about spoiled. </i><br />
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In other life related news, Halloween when you're this pregnant means you can eat all of the Reese's peanut butter cups and it doesn't really matter. And you can wear a jack-o-lantern shirt because its "cute" and the pumpkin face on it is supposed to be round. If you wear this type of shirt any other time and the face is especially round, it is not quite as cute.<br />
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Does anyone else look at pictures of themselves pregnant and wonder if their face is actually that fat? It can't just be me. And don't tell me its cute or something. I know my face is not usually that fat, I have pictures of myself not pregnant. I blame being pregnant with a boy. I gained less weight and didn't have a fat face with the girls, but both boys made me eat more chocolate <i>and potato chips this pregnancy </i>and I gained like 5 extra pounds <i>in my face </i>with both of them.<br />
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My <strike>kids</strike> girls were pretty excited about Halloween this year because Frozen. I had my own set of Anna and Elsa to parade around, and one little stubborn boy who didn't want to "be a costume" which left me with a different sort of challenge. The girls would wear a costume or princess dress every day of the year, but come within five feet of Witten with a Spiderman outfit and he will adamantly refuse to wear it. So, he was a lumberjack. I use that term loosely. I drew on a beard that he managed to smudge off within 30 minutes and I put jeans and a red plaid shirt on him. The only part of Halloween he was in favor of was the candy. Once he realized people would give him candy if he said "trick or treat" he was on board. As long as I didn't try to take anymore pictures of him against his will. </div>
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We carved pumpkins this year on the day before Halloween, and my kids were surprisingly useful. Witten say "Ew, cheese!" when I cut open the first pumpkin so he wasn't going to touch anything, but the girls cleaned out the pumpkins with very little help while I made dinner. All I did was scrape the insides clean and they scooped everything out. Children can be useful, who knew. </div>
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On actual Halloween the girls had Bobcat Rally (its like a pep rally they have every month) so they had a hard time deciding whether to wear red and blue or wear Halloween stuff. They can't wear actual costumes to school, but they can accessorize. They never quite decided, so they went with both. Red clothes, Halloween earrings and headbands, and a pumpkin shirt for Alana. Decisions are hard.<br />
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The next big holiday is Thanksgiving and I will have a baby by then. Don't remind me though, I'm well aware of it. I got induced because of low platelets with both Ava and Witten, but I haven't had as big of an issue this pregnancy. I still wanted to get induced though, because its convenient and you get an epidural way before you're actually in pain and you can schedule it and don't have to stay up all night, so I asked my doctor about it. He told me I could elect to get induced anytime after 39 weeks and I was like "sign me up!" I don't know exactly what day that will be, but I know that my pregnancy has an expiration date, which strengthens my resolve to deny that I will be holding a baby in about 2 weeks. He can stay in there if he wants for now though, I'm not eager to get him out any sooner and start that awkward postpartum phase where I have to wear maternity pants for two weeks and cannot possibly eat enough food to fill me up. That crazy hunger will be okay on Thanksgiving, but the rest of the time its just annoying. </div>
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Who knows if I will actually bother writing anything else this pregnancy. I have not documented it as much as with Witten, but in reality its been about the same so it seems redundant to write the same stuff again. This has probably been my most uncomfortable pregnancy, but I will never go around complaining about that because that would be pointless. I didn't take weekly belly shots or anything, but I took plenty with Witten and I look the same, chubby face and all. I'm almost done and while I feel a little bit nostalgic, I also just feel finished. I don't want to be pregnant again, and as sad as I will be that the newborn stage I love so much is so short, I will be mostly okay with it. I can close this chapter and be fine about it, as long as I can bend over again soon I will try to look at the bright side of never being pregnant again. I will miss the tiny babies, but I also miss seeing my feet. I will miss that smell of a freshly bathed baby, but I won't miss maternity clothes and sleep deprivation. Its a trade-off for sure, and I am okay with quitting at 4 kids. I don't think my sanity would survive any more, I'm barely hanging on to the last of it as it is. </div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-18254146868858142232014-10-15T12:28:00.000-07:002014-10-15T12:28:29.977-07:00I should come with a warning labelThis 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: <i>You look tired. Are you done being pregnant yet? Your belly looks really low, are you sure of your due date? </i>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: <i>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><br />
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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. <i>Unless the baby is like 10 lbs, cause then the mom deserves a trophy of some type. </i><br />
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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. <i>Do it for the children. </i><br />
<br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-8011756940755037622014-10-09T09:59:00.000-07:002014-10-09T09:59:19.427-07:00Birthday Party StuffWhen 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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In case you didn't know, wearing zebra striped socks with your dress shoes is totally fashionable.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-37582269842602625382014-10-03T20:09:00.001-07:002014-10-03T20:09:21.958-07:00I Hate TimeSo this happened yesterday:<br /><br />
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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. </div>
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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. </div>
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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. </div>
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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 (<i>who I will find and punch in time) </i>she stands firm that girls can like the Avengers too. </div>
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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. </div>
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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. </div>
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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. </div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-91032607334948824622014-09-30T07:28:00.000-07:002014-09-30T07:28:28.595-07:00When you get to 4For every <i>well meaning</i> comment to me in public about how I <i>must have my hands full </i>with my 3 kids and pregnant belly, I'm sure there are at least 2 people thinking <i>Don't you have enough kids already? </i>because clearly its their job in life to tell me how many kids I should be allowed to have in my family. Throw in the <i>Don't you know how that happens? </i>and the <i>Tell your husband to leave you alone already </i>comments and sometimes I am quite tempted to just slap someone. Luckily for these people I don't like to be in the grocery store longer than necessary, so I ignore them. <div>
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By the time you get to your 4th kid, pretty much everyone has an opinion. They think you have enough kids, you don't need another one. They ask how you are going to afford another kid, like its their business. They scoff at the idea of another baby shower, because shouldn't every baby just wear its big brother's clothes <i>which don't exist because I got rid of them and would've been seasonally inappropriate anyway. </i>Everyone asks if you're done having kids, even though I thought I was done after the 3rd. They write you off and act like a 4th kid doesn't deserve just as much love and gratitude as a 1st kid. And you know what? That's not true. When did everyone decide that we should have small families? Because I didn't get the memo. </div>
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I happen to live in an area where a lot of people have more than the average of 2 kids. And still there are so many people who judge families who decide to have more than that. People who look at me wide eyed in the grocery store, wondering if I'm crazy. Like its irresponsible to have 4 kids. Like I couldn't possibly want to have more kids, its probably some crazy religious thing and I'm like the people on 19 Kids and Counting. Honestly, I don't think 4 kids is that many. I know a ton of people with more than 4 kids, and I don't go around asking them if they're done having kids, or if they have their hands full. They probably do have their hands full, because having kids is a lot of work. But if you ask any parent if its worth it, they will say yes. </div>
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I am way too pregnant for people to be inserting their rude opinion into my day. I didn't realize it was socially acceptable to say whatever you want to a pregnant woman. Its actually kind of dangerous. You really want to ask me how much I weigh/how much weight I've gained? You think that's a good idea? Then you want to comment that I look tired? Of course I'm tired, every parent is tired. Its pretty much something you deal with because its the trade-off for having lots of kids and lots of love. You want to know if I'm done being pregnant. That's a tricky one, because I'm not the kind of person who will ever complain about being pregnant. I'm lucky to be able to have the chance to add one more person to our family. But am I always physically comfortable? Probably not. Am I going to share the details of this with you? Not likely. So don't ask me <i>How are you feeling? </i>because I'm going to tell you I'm fine whether I am or not. </div>
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At some point everyone should just listen to what all of their mothers probably told them when they were little, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" because honesty is not the best policy if your honest opinion is rude. Let's all just take a few seconds before we speak and think about whether or not what you are saying is appropriate and whether or not it will get you punched. And eventually, if you keep speaking your mind to pregnant women, you will end up with a black eye. </div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-87939094495406974972014-09-12T13:34:00.001-07:002014-09-12T13:38:41.913-07:00Thoughts on StuffRemember my last pregnancy, when I blogged about it all the time and took pictures of myself all the time? Yeah, that isn't going to happen again. Clearly. Cause I'm 30 weeks, most of the pictures I've taken are selfies with my iPhone, and I don't have time to blog. Not that I'm not excited at all for this baby, cause I am. And its not that I'm not looking forward to having him or that I'm having a horrible pregnancy or something. That's not the case either. I'm just busy, and life keeps happening, and I have already been pregnant 3 times before, which I blogged about or photographed or what not.<br />
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This is when I was like 33ish? weeks pregnant with Witten. I look the same this time, but I'm only 30 weeks right now. Probably the biggest difference is that now I have a grass yard with trees instead of a dirt driveway. But me? The same basic thing.<br />
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See? Same chicken legs, same pants I've had since I was pregnant with Ava, same exact shoes I'm wearing in the previous picture. As for any pregnancy updates, I honestly feel the same exact way I did with Witten. I think I have less heartburn, but I've got awhile to go. I have low platelets again, which I've had before. My doctor will induce me at 38-39 weeks again if they're still low later on, which I'm assuming they will be, based on every other pregnancy I've ever had. Typically for me once they're low, they aren't going back up. I'm not concerned. I really am not the type of pregnant woman who will complain about being pregnant. I think its petty. I'm lucky to be able to have this guy (or baby dog as Witten still insists and he never admits if he's wrong) and you will not hear me ever complain about being pregnant. Of course I'm hot, but every person in AZ is hot right now, its hot outside.<br />
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The rest of our life is still going steady as usual. My Ava got the Ben's Bells award for kindness at school. So my girls are officially nice to everyone all the time, except for each other.<br />
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The girls spent all of Labor Day bugging me to play in the sprinkler, and I let them once the sun went behind the trees.<br />
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Witten continues to be a crazy boy, who never backs down from something he wants and if you want to distract him you better create a pretty big diversion.<br />
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Like tickling him.<br />
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Or letting him jump on his bed.<br />
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Or letting him play with your makeup.<br />
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Or boring him till he falls asleep.<br />
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I probably have less than 10 weeks left of being pregnant. I've never been the kind of pregnant woman who is in a hurry to be done with being pregnant. Keep the kid in there, I don't mind. They're way less maintenance that way. Also, I have central air with this pregnancy so I don't care if its hot outside, its 72 in my house and I barely have to leave it. I distinctly remember feeling a sense of nostalgia when I was pregnant with Witten, stupidly believing that was my last pregnancy. I blogged about it <a href="http://jenniferkloos-ruiz.blogspot.com/2012/07/dude.html" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="http://jenniferkloos-ruiz.blogspot.com/2012/06/final-thoughts.html" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="http://jenniferkloos-ruiz.blogspot.com/2012/07/beware-of-too-much-information-wittens.html" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="http://jenniferkloos-ruiz.blogspot.com/2012/06/clock-is-ticking.html" target="_blank">here</a>, and probably a bunch of other times because I had way more spare time back then. This time: I don't really feel that way. Maybe I'm too busy to be alone with my thoughts, or maybe it will hit me around 36 weeks, but this time I don't feel sad that I will never be pregnant again. <i>I especially didn't feel sad about it when I had to do a glucose test a couple of weeks ago and drink that disgusting sugar water. No love lost there. </i>I may change my mind, cause I'm pregnant and I'm prone to that, but for now, I'm good.<br />
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We're all good.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-91034055905202175432014-08-14T11:28:00.000-07:002014-08-14T12:03:00.052-07:00Five Years of AvaToday my little Ava is 5. She is excited, and I feel exactly the same as I do on all of my kids birthdays: sad and nostalgic. Why is she is kindergarten already, why does she have to be 5? When I started this blog she was just a few months old, she was little and cute and had the longest eyelashes ever. It feels like yesterday that she was small, I hate time.<br />
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Ava is the sweetest, most sensitive person I know. Sometimes she actually has to back off a little with the feelings, because Witten doesn't really appreciate her incessant smothering of him.<br />
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Ava is reserved around new people, but once you get her talking she will not shut up. She was born Alana's sidekick, and she has never strayed from that role. She doesn't let Alana push her around though, she is pretty bossy for a middle child.<br />
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As shy as Ava can be, do not be surprised if she says something crazy or randomly starts singing. She is full of personality, and she expresses herself in her little chipmunk voice, sometimes even in song.<br />
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Ava loves being a big sister to Witten, and even though she was keeping her fingers crossed for a little sister this time around, she is excited to have another bratty little brother. I'm sure she will smother him with love just like she does to Witten.<br />
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The range of emotions Ava goes through in one day is vast, but she always comes back around to smiling again. It might take awhile, but it will happen.<br />
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Ava is the girliest of girls. She will not wear pants or shorts if her life depends on it. Skirts and dresses for life. I basically have to force her to wear leggings under her skirts in the winter, she is opposed to all forms of leg coverings. She loves accessories, especially earrings, and never skips an opportunity to accessorize. I love how girly she is, and that she lets me do whatever I want to her hair as long as its fancy.<br />
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Ava is the ultimate momma's girl. She does not leave me or my side unless its necessary, and she requires a lot more encouragement from me to do things. I don't mind that she wants to be with me all the time, I am pretty awesome so who can blame her. She is my little helper, she even unloads the dishwasher and puts away her own laundry. <i>Those kind of things help ease the pain of children growing up, since suddenly they become so useful. </i><br />
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This girl makes me happy, makes me laugh, makes me crazy. She is sweet and sassy, shy and crazy, and she doesn't take any crap from people. She loves Frozen, all things girly, coloring many many pictures, reading books with me like Little Critter books and Pinkalicious (who Witten also inexplicably loves). She will not be seen in pants or without earrings, and she is always fancy. She will cry at the drop of a hat, but be perfectly fine 5 minutes later, even if that takes a little bit of encouragement to calm her down. I love how quickly she makes friends, and how she is open to be anyone's friend. She is that little piece of sweetness in our lives that we would be lost without. The past five years have flown by, and I'm sure she will be grown up tomorrow. I wouldn't even mind if she was true to her word and never moved out of our house, she could unload my dishwasher forever.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3385017680054511224.post-72632997584576256092014-07-28T14:34:00.000-07:002014-07-28T14:34:20.645-07:00Summer Wrap UpI'm sitting here in my living room. Its quiet, Witten is asleep, and the girls are at school. Frankly, its a little depressing. I already miss summer break. Laying around, swimming every day. Now I have to get up every day and take my kids to school, and our pool is empty in the backyard and waiting to get put away. Sad.<br />
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We didn't have that eventful of a summer. And that was the point. We went to the movies and out to eat. We swam and went to the library. We found out we are having another boy. And we enjoyed our air conditioning, I cannot believe I lived through 3 pregnancies with a swamp cooler. Most of all, we just spent all of our time together. I may have felt like a hostage of fighting children some days, but I also had two helpers who unloaded the dishwasher for me and helped me cook stuff. <i>Someday they will cook stuff for me! </i>When the girls aren't home, I miss them. Even if they spend too much time arguing over who gets to be iCarly.<br />
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I guess since summer break is over, I should post about some of it. But only because I have nothing better to do. You're lucky I'm bored...<br />
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There was Father's day, and various pictures associated with it. We didn't really do anything spectacular, we just went to IHOP early that morning, thanks to our loud freezer for waking us all up at a ridiculous time that day. Then we hung out at our house, and played outside or something. I'm sure we also watched Family Feud that day, since David loves to make me watch that show, and I really hate it.<br />
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My kids basically bugged me to go outside as much as possible, but I always waited till it wasn't AS smoldering hot out. No midday sun for me, I like the indoors.<br />
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The third Saturday in June David's cousin got married, which my kids were unreasonably excited for. David got all fancy in a suit and Alana covered herself in lipstick, so of course we took lots of pictures. And of course the tripod shifted just enough to cut me out of a bunch of pictures before I realized the problem. Never buy a cheap tripod! I also got no pictures of David with his cousin who <i>actually got married</i>. I'm sure the wedding photographer got something, see her about that one.<br />
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The next weekend my Witten boy turned 2, so we had a party. What can I say, we are party animals. If having carnitas, beans, and rice with 30 of your relatives makes me wild, then I guess that's what I am. Witten got a little bit shy when everyone was singing Happy Birthday to him, but he came around again when he got to blow out his candle and then open presents. Of course my girls were traitors and insisted that they get to take a picture with my Aunt Beth. They never want in a picture with me....<br />
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The next weekend was 4th of July. Can you see why I kept the weekdays free, every weekend was a party! We went to the parade, since its literally 100 feet from our house, but then we did nothing but eat and light sparklers the rest of the day. The girls made a big deal out of staying up to watch the fireworks, which we can see perfectly from our front porch, but as soon as the first one went off all 3 of my kids freaked out and we had to go inside. David was the only one who watched them. I think the girls had forgotten how loud they are, we hadn't had 4th of July fireworks in a couple of years. Personally I think they are kind of boring, I'd rather stay inside and eat s'mores instead, so that's what we did.<br />
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After 4th of July was over we only had a couple of weeks left of summer. We went to the movies, finished back to school shopping, and swam. My kids were obsessed with swimming, even Witten, so we had to play in our pool every afternoon. They have crazy tan lines as proof.<br />
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That's pretty much it. We stayed home and went places, but nothing spectacular. We went outside to swim, and stayed inside to watch movies and eat popcorn. Teen Beach Movie made many appearances this summer, but not as many as last. Many games of Uno were played, especially after Ava got over her aversion to saying the word "Uno". Alana worked on her swimming, but in 2 feet of water. Ava worked on writing her name for kindergarten, and luckily for her I named her something with only 3 letters. Witten worked on driving them both crazy, but he naps for 2 hours every day so they put up with him. If every summer for the rest of their childhood is this good, I will be perfectly happy with that, and that's enough for me.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11740557418516419491noreply@blogger.com3