These are the days of our lives

As sands in the hour glass, so these are the days of our lives. And believe you me, there's nothing soap opera-esque about our lives--no love triangles, no long-lost brothers who've magically reappeared as the evil villain, no secret love child. Nope, around here there's just a whole lot of normal, mundane, every day life. So here's what we've been up to in  the days of our lives.

Vacuuming. The below picture shows my two kids at 3:30 in the afternoon, sitting on Will's bed, still in their pajamas, watching a show on the little DVD player while I attempted to vacuum. Of course, it didn't last too long b/c Lucy rolled right into the crack in between the bed and the wall.

Sleeping. Lately, this is our bedtime routine with Will. Tuck him in, tell him a story and quickly fall asleep with him. It's just so comfy in his bed.

Bathing.  Is it possible to keep a four-year-old boy clean in the summer? It's all right if you want to just jump through this computer and squish those little cheeks.  She really is just that cute.

Wrestling/crying.  Far too much of it with my two kids.  Do you think she likes it?  Poor Lucy.

Picture-taking.  Any chance he gets, Will steals the camera and takes pictures of every last thing.  Or of himself, as evidenced below.

Playing.  There are some rare moments when my kids play well together.  Lucy adores her brother, but mostly prefers he stay at arm's length.  I don't blame her. He's a bit of a brute.

Cleaning.  Cleaning, cleaning and more cleaning.  It may be impossible to ever keep a house cleaned with two kids.  On this particular day, I cleaned the bathroom and Will surprised me by folding all these towels so nicely, and then stacking them in the laundry basket.  I was so impressed I had to take a picture of it.  He really is such a good helper.

Waking.  Will loves to get Lucy when she wakes up from naps and in the morning.  It's really so cute.  He just runs in, flips on the light, and jumps in the crib.  You should see her smile at him.  It is one of my happiest moments.

Eating.  And what is this girl's favorite thing to eat?  Why paper, of course.  Any chance she gets, she just beelines it straight for the paper.  And look how happy she is eating an old Ensign.  What can I say?  She's already nourishing herself, literally, on the good word of God.  We teach 'em young to love the scriptures.

Reading.  Will loves to read or be read to.  So I charge him with the task of reading to Lucy.  Of course, he can't read, but he can semi-remember most of his books.  It's too fun seeing what he comes up with for some books.  And yes, my children are in their pajamas once again--their Christmas jammies, mind you.  And Lucy's bottom buttons aren't buttoned because she is just too darn squirmy these days.

Baking.  This is how Will awaits the cooking of the cookies.  His favorite thing in the whole wide world is a cookie.  Hands down.  Just like his mama.

Random photo placement here--but Lucy eating more paper.

Swinging.  I love, love, love it.  Will loves to push this girl and she loves it.  Of course, he also likes to hang on the swing, spin her in circles--and I mean teacup fast circles--and give her underdog pushes, but Lucy always smiles throughout it all.  Good girl.

And some things not pictured: biking--any chance any or all of us can get--we love to bike in our house.  And Will can ride "with not out any training wheels" as he proudly declares to anyone who will listen.  Bribing--any time I have to go shopping, run errands, etc., it's the only way I can get my shopping done in peace. And even with the bribery, it's hardly peaceful. I went to the mall the other day to return a $10 pair of shorts and ended up paying $8 at the chocolate store just to keep Will happy.  Should have kept the shorts!  Feeding--does anyone else feel that is all they do all day long???? Feeding someone or another? Dish-doing, singing (mostly songs from Annie--Will loves him his Annie), game-playing (Uno, Bingo, Busy Town Mysteries), coloring (print me off something is a plea I hear daily--too bad our printer is broken).

And though our lives are not nearly as dramatic and surely not as entertaining as a soap opera, these are our days and we wouldn't want our lives any other way (well, a secret love child might come in handy--if he/she were old enough to babysit, I'd take it)!

Seven Months

Lucy's now officially seven months, which calls for another photo shoot on the leather chair and a quick update of her progress.

At seven months, she:

• is a mover AND a shaker--she is mobile.  She does the worm crawl and every day is expanding her net of mobility.  In fact, today she even started doing the actual crawl! 
• is finally sleeping through most of the night (she's in bed btwn. 6:30-7 and sleeps until 4:30-5:30, nurses and wakes for the day around 7:30.  Hallelujah!)
• is sitting up on her own, and has just mastered the art of getting herself into a sitting position.
• is officially sick and tired of baby food, which makes feeding time fun since she's not quite ready solely for table food.
• is still a lover of the johnny jumper.
• is impossible to nurse in public.  She refuses to do it.  Yikes.
• is teething and not happy about it.
• is still Will's favorite "toy"
• is NOT wearing pink in the pictures below.  Shocking, I know!

The Campout of the Fathers and Sons

The fathers and sons campout has come and gone and once again, Will had a ball.  The cutest part of the entire trip was when Will and Josh were packing up to go.  Will really, really, really wanted Lucy to come on the campout.  I explained to him that she couldn't go, that this particular camping trip was just for fathers and sons--not daughters.  So the rest of the afternoon he just kept going up to Lucy and saying, "You can't come this time, Luce.  You are not a son.  You are a daughter.  I will miss you.  You can go next time."  It was too cute.  And then, while on the campout, he told Josh, "I miss Lucy."  So sweet.  Another sweet part was that Will just fell asleep on Josh at the campfire and just snuggled on him--Josh loved it.  But what wasn't so sweet?  The fact that Josh got a tick on the campout and b/c he had no idea how long it had been attached by the time we found it and b/c he had just watched a documentary on lyme disease and b/c we weren't sure if we got the head of the tick, Josh freaked a bit and insisted on going to Urgent Care to start a round of anitbiotics, just in case.  So, other than the lyme disease scare, I'd say fun was had by all!

Mother's Day

How thankful and blessed I feel to be a mother.  It's pretty much the best gig ever--especially since I have the cutest kids ever, as evidenced below (even if it is impossible to get a good photo of them).

And how thankful and blessed I feel to have a mother who raised me and loved me even when it wasn't easy.  And how thankful and blessed I feel to have a mother-in-law who raised such a good boy who turned into a great man. 

Happy Mother's Day.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

A few weeks ago, I went in to get a long overdue cut and color.  I had planned to get a trim, maintain my quasi-blond color and chop my bangs.  Imagine my surprise when I walked out of the salon with six-inches less hair, bleach blond tresses and no bangs.  Usually, I am far from spontaneous when it comes to such life-altering decisions as how to cut my hair (except for that crazy hair-hacking fiasco that occurred at Paul Mitchell's Hair School my sophomore year of college.  I try to block that incident out of my memory).  However, I went for something bold, brave and daring all on a whim.  And here are the results (and keep in mind the photographers, myself and Will, leave a lot to be desired):

At first I doubted my hasty decision and mourned my lost locks (and regretted the high-maintenance bleach blond color--oh, the roots that will be had).  I suddenly got flashbacks to my ninth grade year, when my sister's friend, Amy Holdaway, offered to trim my hair, wherein she cut off a good eight inches.  I cried for days, claiming that not only had I lost my hair but with it my beauty.  And while this time around, some fifteen years later, the moment wasn't quite as traumatic, the loss of my hair did give me a moment's pause.  Thankfully, life's lessons have given me enough perspective to realize that there are far worse things than a bad haircut and that, after all, hair grows back.  I'm proud to say no tears were shed (and, thankfully, no hate mail sent to Amy Holdaway) and I'm learning to embrace my spontaneous, saucy new hair-do, as well as  appreciate my new-found maturity--even if it is fifteen years too late.