Leaf Eating Days

Yesterday our trio of girls went to the little park area in our complex. It was our first time using it and, even though I can't speak for the girls, I was definitely excited. The sun was finally shining so we loaded into the stroller and walked on over.

The girls loved being outside on the grass. It was super fun to watch them react to all the wind and sunlight.

I guess they decided it was okay.

Then it was time to taste new things. Lucy ate her first leaf. And then tried to eat 20 more.

After some hard playing...it was time to come home and get clean again.

Then it was time for bed. Yay!!

All in all...I'd call it a good day.

Deservedly So

Having only just readied myself for the day, I sit here at nearly 3 o'clock in the afternoon hoping to write something worthwhile.

Do you ever have those days where a heaviness takes hold of your chest and seems about to crush you? That feeling you get when you know there are things in your life that are causing you to stress, but when you look at them all individually they seem so little and insignificant?

I do.

And what is worse than the fact that those days exist at all is that I find myself constantly apologizing for them. More to myself than anyone else I think. I argue with my own feelings, trying to lecture them into submission by telling them that they don't matter. It doesn't matter that I struggle being a wife and a mother. It doesn't matter that Chris and I just made several huge changes in our lives. It doesn't matter that it's hard every single morning to send my husband off to work for 9 hours, or to find when he comes home that we're both so exhausted we're lucky if we can work up the energy to put the girls down. It doesn't matter that I've wondered several times if we all we're doing right now is making wrong decisions. Strong people do not complain. No, instead, I should be happy. I should count myself blessed. I shouldn't think of my life as hard because there are so many people who have it harder.

But not today. Today I choose to allow myself a bit of human weakness. Today I choose to admit to myself and to anyone else who asks, yes, my life has been hard over the past month and I am struggling. And what's more, I refuse to apologize for it. I refuse to blame it on hormones or make any other excuses. I refuse to see my own feelings as so inconsequential that I simply need to brush them aside, get a grip, and move on. All that I feel, right now, deserves recognition.

Now maybe I'll be able to start coping with one thing at a time.

One of the Reasons...

Why I love him

Taking time to read That's Not My Fairy to the girls.

New Year's Resolutions? Maybe Next Year.

And it's that time of year again. Er, well, at least it was a few weeks ago, but I figure it's still January so maybe I still have time to think of new year's resolutions.

If you read any of my past diaries, journals, scrapbooks, or this blog you will find in a matter of minutes that I'm not the best at recording...anything. All my journals, and I say all because I have started at least 6 or 7 of them, have a good 10 pages worth of writing in them and then...a lot of blank space. But then again, maybe it's a good it's a good thing more of my childhood and adolescent thoughts weren't recorded. Every time I've ever read back over the pittance I did take the time to pen down I think to myself, "what in the world is my posterity supposed to do with this?" All of my entries from grade school on seem to have been about the boy I had a crush on at the time but who didn't know I was alive. After assessing this situation years ago and realizing there was a reoccurring theme to my writing I would sit around desperately wondering what in the world there would be to write about after I got married. As it turns out...there's enough, but my poor writing commitments are unfortunately the same. And so, for probably the 57th time I am about to commit as one of my late new year's resolutions to better record my life. I don't care how I do it, I want it to get done. I can blog, scrapbook, write in a journal, whatever...as long as I do at least one thing every month. There. Now you know. Maybe that will help.

Sadly, my complacent attitude about record keeping extends to other parts of my life as well. As far as commitments go, at least in regards to the ones I make to myself, I'm pretty much a big, fat failure. I don't exercise. I don't eat particularly well. I don't read my scriptures as faithfully as I should. I don't use my time productively. I just seem to bob through life content to simply live each day and be with my family. Now, obviously this is not a bad thing. I love my little family and I want to spend all the time with them I can and I should. But I need to be better to myself. I need to at least go for walks. (I have very little faith in my ever becoming an adamant exerciser. Ha! I want to bust up laughing just thinking about it.) But that doesn't mean I can't be better. Walking surely wouldn't cramp my style. Besides, walking any sort of distance pushing the double stroller while my chubby babes hang out is practically like running a marathon...or in my case running around the block.

I also want to eat better. I'm not talking about going on a diet. Heaven forbid I ever have THAT kind of restriction put on my dessert consumption. Alright, so maybe a few less sweets wouldn't kill me. At least it's not probable. Maybe. But I can start cooking better, or at all. Eating some square meals as opposed to the squiggly ones I'm prone to. Less PB&J for dinner and more lazagnas, soups, salads, and pork chops. It's not the perfect food pyramid but you get my drift.

Fourthly, I want to write. Not blogging, or journal keeping, but true to life story writing. It's something I've always wanted to do, and there is no good reason not to. Unless, of course, my stories wind up being really really bad.

And last, but definitely NOT least (in case the Lord is reading my blog) I want to take my scripture reading more seriously. Truth be told I'm that person you sometimes find late at night, with eyes barely open, lifting up the corner of my scriptures enough to see one verse...or possibly just the footnotes and calling it a night. But I have on rare occasion given my scriptures the attention they deserve and though I don't always feel as though my day is infinitely better, or that I feel the spirit more, or that I have had earth shattering revelation about what those branches in the Olive Tree are really all about...I just feel good. I feel like I have taken the time to do something worthwhile and I usually collect some small gem of either peace of mind or insight into life in general.

And so, there you have it. I hereby commit to these things...again. And I reserve the right to not be perfect. I also claim the right to add at anytime. Even if it's the middle of September. So, there you go. Let's go get the year. Ha! Becoming an adamant exerciser. What a laugh.

Oh, and here are few excerpts from the oldest journal I have. I was probably 7 or 8 years old. I'm holding true to my superb writing skills at that age.

"I went to the mall with my mom and she gave me a penny to throw in to the strem."

"It snowed down in town, but It did not snow hear I was mad because I wanted it snow. I'm lising to the chipmonks sing the Christmas carel I is my favoit song."

"Dear diry I like two people named Donny and Caleb! I had a hard time disidinge who I love and I finily found out the I like Donny as a friend, and I love caleb!"

"Hi, Mersi spent the night and I didn't get any sleep beacuse Mersi rolled over on my side of the bed then I woke her up then she got on her side but she would always roll back over on my side...she might spend the night again but we will make a bed on the floor."

As Time Goes By

No, we're not dead.

And it's that time of year again. Normally, when Fall hits, I go into this sort of crazed spiced pumpkin candle, red, orange and gold, long sleeves and sweaters, bundle up kids cuz it's cold out there kind of frenzy. I simply get overjoyed at the onset of Fall, but not this year. It was so weird. Fall came...and I just sat there, waiting for the frenzy to hit and then...nothing. Not that I haven't enjoyed the colors, clothes, and crisp air...it just hasn't taken total control over me like usual. I blame last year's morning sickness.

However, the good news is that I have been bitten by the holiday bug just as badly as every other year of my life. I know it might be cliché, but the holidays are truly my favorite time of the year. For the first year of my marriage I am going to have my very own Christmas Tree!!! Now, whether or not it will have anything on it is a whole different thing. My Gma didn't have room for her 6ft tree anymore so she offered it to me! I am so excited.

The long standing tradition in my family is that the day after Thanksgiving I put up my parents Christmas tree and everybody else clears out. It's a whole day affair of me fighting with the stupid branches and fixing everything that broke during its year long sojourn in the shed. By the end of the day the house looks like it's had a good thwack with the Christmas stick. It's my favorite day of the entire year. A jest? Not at all. Ask anyone who's ever seen me at work. So, this year I get to do two trees and decorate two homes. The perfect recipe for happiness.

I usually stick to the rule of no Christmas before Thanksgiving, but this year I cracked a little and spent the whole morning listening to Bing Crosby sing I'll Be Home for Christmas. Then I went and nearly completed ALL of my Christmas shopping. There is only one item left on my list and it's only November 17th. I must admit I'm slightly proud of myself.

And so to end my holiday raving I say to you...enjoy the family, enjoy the snow, enjoy the bells, and most of all...ENJOY THE PIE!!!

Oh, and enjoy some pictures of my darlin' babes.

The Mother of Twins...Wait...What?

So, a friend of mine (whose life mine practically parallels) just wrote on her blog about being the mother of twins, and it got me thinking that my own post on the subject is greatly overdue.

Being the parents of twins isn't really as scary as Chris and I were anticipating. A couple of months ago, when we looked into our future, we saw a lot of uncombed hair, pajama wearing, pizza eating, sleep deprived, shower-less days...weeks even. Now, don't get me wrong, there are still plenty of days when I fit the previous description and then some, but overall we are both usually up, washed, fed, coherent, and manage to catch about 75% of the puke before it falls in our laps. Our couch, however, has not had such luck.

Most days, when people stop us in the grocery store and congratulate us on our "blessed little trials" I can answer (with a straight face even) that life really isn't that bad and that we even get to sleep. Other times I'm tempted to hand the girls off right on the spot to those people who say "Oh, I always wanted twins." Now, I'll be the first to admit that I love my little girls more than I can say, and that I couldn't imagine life without BOTH of them, but I always wonder if those people who claim to want twins are entirely sane. That's TWO babies...you realize this...right? But, like I said, it's not bad in our case. I'm sure if Lucy and Eloise were both colic kids, I'd be in an unwashed, unfed, insane heap on the floor with half my hair pulled out, but thankfully this is not the case. The girls are better than wonderful. Content to lie on the floor and simply watch the goings-on of the house, get sniffed by the cat, and stare cross-eyed at their own hands. And, as I mentioned earlier, they are letting us sleep. They've been sleeping consistently through the night for the last month. The lovely little things.

And so life goes on...carrying more formula than usual, but going on none the less. I don't know why we were given this opportunity and, although it seems crazy at times, I wouldn't trade it for anything. I love being a mom to these adorable girls!!

Pictures Forthcoming

Alright...just in case you were wondering whether or not I'm still alive...I am, and I promise to post some pictures soon.