No Really, I Got This

I'm a little bit irritated. With myself. This is why: I am capable of so much more than I ever gave myself credit for. Here I am supposed to be my biggest cheerleader and it turns out I've been the biggest doubter on my team. Why would I do this?! I feel like I've wasted a lot of time and potential greatness because I have assumed I couldn't handle certain obstacles. Well I'm the fool! Because apparently I can be a single mother, run a business, maintain friendships, address my personal battles, work out, and keep my home from sinking all at once. Who knew?! I certainly didn't! Okay, fine I'm not perfect at it. There are moments where I get completely overwhelmed and call in outside forces to clean my house. It's possible that I have Merry Maids on speed dial but that is none of your never-mind. Maybe my kids' homework gets forgotten a night here or there. Or the whole last half of the school year if you want to be obnoxious and get technical about it. Perhaps my backlog of unedited footage is larger than it's ever been and when I list it all out and see how much work I have ahead of me, I hide under my covers with a bag of mini Twix for hours at a time - again none of your business. Sometimes "working out" consists of walking from my bed to the bathroom to pee and back. Stop judging me. And then there are moments when I contemplate the trials in my life that are causing me mass amounts of stress and sadness and I want to reside in a hot bath for the rest of forever and then actually attempt this scheme until my skin starts to fall off and my children grow restless with hunger at the bathroom door. However! At the end of the day I have always made progress. At the end of the day my children are fed and bathed and loved and snuggled. At the end of the day I am always exhausted from trying my best. Even when my best involves two hour baths and a bag of mini Twix. I have to cut myself some slack when I look at the giant bite I have to chew. I'm so proud and impressed with myself because damnit, I'm surviving! Even thriving I might say. I'm tackling the world all by my lonesome in ways I never thought possible. Life isn't turning out the way I had planned, but it doesn't matter because at the end of the day, I have a life that's good.

On My sadness

Hello Blog. It's been such a while since I've paid you any attention. My life kind of went to shit and while trying to tread water I had to let something drop. It was you. My apologies. Well my life is still shit but a friend told me to write through my pain. That writing can be healing. And that is most definitely what I need. I won't go into details today about what is happening in my life. There is far too much to address. Perhaps I will confront the whole picture a piece at a time. Or maybe I will whine vaguely forever. Today I will salute my sadness. I am sad. I am accepting that I am sad. It's more than sad though. I am in deep mourning. I live on the constant verge of tears. And I cry often. I tried to fight it at first for the sake of "being strong". That was foolish. Who the hell am I being strong for? I realized that was silly and now I let myself cry when I feel it coming. I lock the doors, sidle up with a roll of toilet paper and I let it go. Who am I to argue with Elsa? The woman is wise. Let it go. Open the flood gates. Feel. I'm letting myself feel this gaping wound I'm nursing. I'm not attempting to numb it or mask it or stifle it. Run your damn course, sadness. Do what you gotta do. Just please don't make yourself too comfortable. I don't want you to think that you have a permanent place in my heart. I'm way too yellow for this drivel to last forever. Feelings I'm experiencing: - A weight. Like a giant foot wearing a hefty work boot standing on my chest. All the time. - Extreme fatigue. My eyelids weigh one thousand pounds a piece. It requires intense effort to make peanut butter sandwiches and load the dishwasher. (Side note: Did I mention I'm potty training my youngest right now? What the *#!! am I thinking?) - Sensitive. Oh my goodness this might be the worst part. I have never been so easily tipped and weepy in my life. It's mortifying. Literally anything can crush my feelings right now. Fragile as a leaf I tell you. - Distracted and foggy. I can't keep a constructive thought on my mind or finish a task to save my very life. My focus keeps getting yanked to my sadness and I can't remember what I was saying or thinking or trying to accomplish. It's infuriating. - Listless. My spirit has a damper on it right now. Which is driving me bat shit crazy because my spirit and spunk are a huge part of what defines me. I'm indifferent. My spice is lacking. It's bugging. Things to be Grateful for Despite this Shit-storm: - My dishwasher that it takes all my power to load. - The free weight loss that accompanies said sadness. (14 pounds in 3 weeks? I'm not going to say no to THAT). - Gel nail polish that makes me feel fabulous even after I've cried for an hour. - My friends. I could never even pretend to face this life without them. The distraction and council they provide is worth its weight in gold. Time with them is when I breath the deepest. - My four creatures. Their laughter and cuddles provide temporary solace for me. I need them much more than they need me right now, I'm afraid. I'm trying to accept the disarray that this sadness is causing in my life and remind myself that it is only momentary in the overall portrait of my life. I will survive it. And I will be infinitely stronger when I do. I can already see it happening, even in my sickly emotional state. My spirit is building muscles it never knew it had.

For Jay's Sake...

I am updating my blog upon request. Russel Crow's ugo face apparently offends the likes of some. Myself included. So feast your eyes on this and the darlingness thereof. Therein? Thereof? I'ma stick with thereof. If you know the correct grammar on that one feel free to let me know.

We're surviving. By the skin of our very teeth, but we're still afloat. Life is hard, but also good. We are happy. Peace out for a while.

Holla'

Lilly

May I vent for a moment?

There are so so many things which are far more important than what I am about to discuss but I just have to vent. I know I am virtually alone in the following opinions so please, take no offense.

I'll tell you what I can't handle. Action movies based in medieval times. Thank the heavens above that I was not born in medieval times because I think I would have to shoot myself - or stab myself with an arrow as it were. I refuse to sit through one more movie where everyone is covered in filth to the point where you can barely recognize one face from the next. The clothes look heavy and damp and disgusting and they are all saying crap like "Milady, I beseech you" and "If thou wilt, Milord" and "Fair maiden, I would that thou would see me rightly". It always looks soooo dark and soooo cold. And everyone is being sliced with swords and stabbed with arrows and then there is a bunch of blood mixed with all the filth and I just want to vomit all over myself. I'm over it. I'm sorry, but The Lord of the Rings falls in this category for me. I know, dare I say it? Blasphemy. But I am not a "Lord of the Rings" type of gal. I sat through all three of the LOTR movies in the theater as a Christmas present to my husband. After each one finished all I could think of was that my butt was asleep and I wanted to go home immediately and soak in a hot shower for three hours on behalf of all the filthy people I just witnessed. Nine hours of my life I'll never get back. That's what I think of LOTR. And Brave Heart and Robin Hood Prince of Thieves and Gladiator and Troy and A Knight's Tale etc, etc, etc. Hey, why don't they re-make Robin Hood one more time because we haven't run THAT story into the ground nearly enough yet. And are you kidding me with all the kissing and sex in these movies? I'd like to know what could be more disgusting than the thought of peeling off all of those disgusting layers of dark, sweaty, dingy clothes and chain maille to have sex. I can practically smell the bad breath and body odor from my seat. Vile. And they are always waaaay overly rough and ravenous in their love making - grabbing at each others faces and crap. No. No to that. Then there are the fight scenes which each feel like they last fifteen hours. And every last one of those kinds of movies have about thirty fight scenes where they are fighting in the mud and the rain and the filthy filth. I would rather poke out my own eyes than have to see Russelle Crow raising a sword in slow motion screaming and spraying sweat all over the place with some passionate music playing in the background one more time. I'm all done with that. I've tried to enjoy these types of films. I really have, but I have to call a spade a spade at this point. I'm just not down with any of it. Go take a bath and cut your nasty hair and turn the freaking lights on and we'll talk.

Jude

On December 1st at 7:05pm at the American Fork hospital I gave birth to another gorgeous creature. Well I don't know if I can really say I gave birth - they went in and fished him out. He never saw it coming and I did no pushing so I didn't really birth him in the traditional sense. Nevertheless he is here and oh my goodness is he amazing.

I am so totally overwhelmed with love. I exist constantly on the verge of tears because I love him so much and I feel like I can't express it properly. The innocence and purity in his sweet expression is all consuming. He is perfect. He is so so beautiful and so perfect. I am so lucky to have this wonderful little precious gift at Christmas time. Don't even get me started on the fact that it is Christmas time! I sit next to our lovely glowing tree at three in the morning and feed my beautiful perfect baby at night. It is the highlight of my day, that three o'clock feeding. We listen to Christmas music and watch Christmas movies and cuddle all day long. I will never forget having a newborn at Christmas time. It is magical.

This morning I was changing his tiny nonexistent bum and he peed AND pooped all over me and my sheets and his last remaining clean outfit that was sitting folded next to his head. That part wasn't so magical, but it was pretty dang funny.

I'm not going to lie, four is proving to be difficult! Especially the 21 month old. We are not free from stress and chaos but his sister and brothers LOVE him. The most common phrase at our house at the moment is "Can I hold the baby?" Even Finn is extremely loving and gentle. He brings me diapers and burp cloths and says "There go!" (There you go) Darling. I love my children. They all have such good, sweet spirits. I love my family. I'm so grateful for every single one of them. I am so lucky to have such an amazing family. And my wonderful, helpful husband. It is so fun to share this amazing time with him.

So we are happy. And healthy. And sleep deprived. And we are loving every chaotic moment of it. Merry Christmas!

Lilly

First Place! Voctory!!

Oh my poor neglected blog. I'm sure I've lost any readers I might have had. My life is insane. Insane I tell you. A few balls had to be dropped and my pathetic little blog was one of them. It was either my blog or Finn. I feel I made the right choice.

So my family and some of our dear friends get together from time to time and have writing contests. A few weeks ago we had one such writing contest with a Halloween theme. I opted for a humorous approach rather than scary. Well, I don't mind telling you that I WON! That is correct. First place. Me. High fives all around. Anyway, I thought I would share it with you to get you all excited for fall. ENJOY!



My Halloween - Start to Finish

Halloween started out rotten. By the time lunch rolled around I had given it a 2 out of 10 and that was being generous.
I decided to be a girlie skeleton with a hot pink bow this year. When I came down stairs my mom said I looked “spooky”. My dad said I looked “super spooky!”. “I was going for CUTE,” I said. “You look like you’re trying too hard,” said Megan.
Megan’s a brat. She’s 15. When she came down this morning she was dressed up like a strung out Lindsay Lohan. My mom yelled “ABSOLUTELY NOT!” and pointed an angry finger for her to go back upstairs and change. This is the sole reason that I had given the day a 2 out of 10 instead of a zero.
And then there is dad. For the third year in a row he is wearing a giant pot he constructed out of card board with wig hair glued all over it. Harry Potter. I might die of embarrassment if any of my friends see.
Rachel is my nice sister. She’s not wearing a costume because she’s 17 and she says that’s too old for costumes. I wonder why Dad didn’t get that memo. When I asked my mom why she’s not wearing a costume she said it’s because she just gave birth to twins and her unrecognizable excuse for a body is costume enough.
Speaking of the twins they are dressed up like Raggedy Ann and Andy. Everyone called them cute. In my opinion a girlie skeleton is way cuter than a couple of drooley lumps that look like freaky clowns with oversized red yarn wigs.
I’m living in the twilight zone.
We had scrambles eggs for breakfast which I strongly dislike. I say “strongly dislike” because my mom caught me using the word “hate” last week and I got in huge trouble. I’ve been instructed to use the phrase “strongly dislike” instead. Scrambled eggs definitely deserve to be in the “strongly dislike” category.
Rachel said she was going to drive me to school but she was running late so Harry Potter had to take me. Before we left I told Rachel if I die of embarrassment to give all my clothes to Zoe Green. Zoe Green is my best friend. She was dressed up as Hello Kitty but really she just looked like a cat. When I got to school she told me that she saw Kendra Holden in Main Hall and that she was dressed up like a girlie skeleton too except she had a hot necklace that looked like real bones.
I wanted to die. Kendra Holden is only the meanest most popular girl in the school. Plus I’ve always had the feeling she strongly dislikes me. That’s okay because I strongly dislike her right back.
I called my mom to see if she could bring me a different costume. I told her it was an emergency. I even started to cry, but she said one of the twins just exploded poop all over their costume and that she too was in crisis. Then she gave me the “Put on a Brave Face” talk. I strongly dislike the “Brave Face” talk. The “Brave Face” talk made me late for first period and I had to walk in late in front of John Kidner. It’s alright though because I’m pretty sure despite science and all the rules of physical matter I am virtually invisible to John Kidner.
Mr. Fitzpatrick gave a pop quiz in history 3rd period. Rude. Who gives pop quizes on a holiday? Miss Tanner said I looked “spooky” when she passed me on the way to 4th period. The next person who called me “spooky” was in serious danger of receiving spooky pop in the mouth. This coming from a non-violent person.
Mike Edwards and Mario Franco were rough housing in the hall and got yellow face paint on my black shirt. Mina Fillmore told me that Nolan Clark was planning on asking me to dance that night at the Halloween Hootenanny Ball. I really didn’t want to dance with Nolan Clark. He smells like a vitamin store.
It was doughnut day and they ran out of doughnuts two people ahead of me in the line at lunch. How can you run out of doughnuts on doughnut day? It was at this point I told Zoe that Halloween strongly disliked me and this day could not possibly get any worse. It was also at this point that somehow, it did get worse.
It got monumentally worse.
I looked up from my cold waxy pizza to see none other than Harry Potter parading through the cafeteria carrying a clown costume, with a huge smile on his face.
“This is it,” I thought to my self. “I will now experience death by embarrassment.”
I closed my eyes and waited for the sweet release. The white tunnel. The singing choir of angels. No such luck. I opened my eyes to see my dad standing proudly in front of me. “Mom told me about your dilemma. I had a long lunch today so I picked up this costume for you at Walmart!”
I snatched the clown costume from him. “Thanks Dad, I really appreciate it.” I managed to say without crying. I gave him a quick hug and a kiss and sent him on his way. As he awkwardly fumbled out of the cafeteria I felt my face turning scarlet red under my white make up. I rushed to my locker and as I was shoving the ridiculous clown costume inside I heard a boy’s voice say, “Hey Abby, was that your dad in the Harry Potter costume?”
I looked over my shoulder to see John Kidner.
I was paralyzed. Frozen. My delayed response was practically tangible.
“Um, yeah. He’s a real comedian, my dad,” I let out a mix of a cough and a nervous laugh, which sounded more like a pre-vomit burp. Shoot me.
“He looked pretty freaking awesome.” John smiled. “I wish my dad was cool like that.”
“Thanks,” I stuttered.
“So are you going to the Halloween dance thing tonight?” He asked.
“Yeah, for sure!” I said smiling.
“I guess I’ll see you there then.” He grinned and walked away. I hid behind my locker door with an idiotic grin on my face taking in the last glorious 20 seconds of my life.
This encounter single handedly bumped up the day’s rating to an 8!
Then I heard Kendra Holden’s bone necklace snapped in gym class and scattered all over the floor. I know it shouldn’t have, but this upped the day’s rating to a 9.
We were supposed to have shepherd’s pie for dinner which I despise because it is weird and the ingredients make no sense but we had hawaiian haystacks instead because mom said she knows it’s my favorite and she also knew I had a rough day. Little does she know my day was totally awesome. After all was said and done I can’t believe it, but according to my advanced rating system, Halloween received a solid 11!
John asked me to dance twice! I didn’t step on his toes or nervous-burp in his face (which after the earlier mishap was a big concern of mine). Nolan Clark asked me to dance, but it turns out he was just trying to see if he had a chance with Zoe. So Halloween does not strongly dislike me after all and the feeling is definitely mutual because this Halloween will go down in the history books as the best Halloween ever!

Thank Heaven For Little Girls

What is cuter than fritzy pixies in spring time? Not much.

Beautiful, tall, lanky brunette = Maggie (Mine)
Fair blonde that looks like a mermaid = Mila (Charlotte's)
The little one with huge eyes = Goldie (Priscilla's)

Thank Heaven for Little Girls from Lilly McDowell on Vimeo.