Saturday, September 19, 2015

A trip to the mountains. Or hills that they think are mountains.

When we lived in South Carolina the first time we went to North Carolina each fall to pick apples.  We decided to make it a full on tradition and go again this year. Cause it's fall y'all, 90° and all. 

First up, hubba hubba bbq. Delishious. Outside eating only, with buckets of chalk on the table for kids to draw on the ground. Perfect.  My main interest in the trip, other than fresh cider. 

Picking apples for 10 minutes. We did get a bushel, but it was hot and right in the sun. I'm just going to say, picking apples true fall weather is much more enjoyable. Byu-Idaho is completely underated. 

The hot doughnuts and cold cider went over much better. 

The best part of the trip ended up being Jordan's pick to stop at the last covered bridge in the state. It was a quick and easy hike, bo likes anything the echoes, and we waded in the creek to cool off. Practically pioneers. 

Jordan recently told the kids there was a hungry alligator in the pond at the park in hopes of keeping them out. Effective parenting.  Madilyn asked no less than 29 times if there was an alligator. 

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Olympics 2024.

Madilyn has been telling me for 6 months now she wants to go to ballet class. So naturally I enrolled her in gymnastics. 
Good mom all around. 
Mainly I did not want to pay for three seperate recital costumes. Plus there is nothing like a back tuck to win over a crowd. Kidding. Kind of. 

If you give her half a second she will tell you ALL about her first lesson and the super fun trampoline and her overwhelming fear of doing a handstand. 

The class is 45 minutes of 10 three year olds and one teacher and a lot of chaos. Bless her heart. 

And after her show and tell she took her stuffed animals for lesson on the tape measure blance beam. 

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

It's Funny Now... I guess.

The six most used words in our home, " Oh Bo what did you do?"
Last Thursday was the kind of day that makes me question my vocation of motherhood.
Let me set the stage.  I set the big kids up with lunch and went into my room to nurse Tucker asleep. I'm a sucker for bad (and super easy) habits.  Madilyn comes in to inform me how much Bo "weally weally loves cream." Foolish me thought she was reminiscing of last nights Chick-Fil-A ice cream run.  Silly me. I send her back to the table and come out 15 minutes later to Bo REALLY REALLY loving a Sam's Club size tub of SOUR cream. Loving it in his hair, on the counter, the floor, down the hall and walls, and not missing a square inch of any bare skin.  It's like he lathered it on like lotion during a Rexburg winter.
And then there is a knock on my door. And it's my wonderful and kind, never have they been over before, visiting teachers, popping in for a quick end of the month hello.
To my couch I usher them, asking them to wait just a quick sec while I de-cream the boy.  I banish him to his room for nap time. I field questions of the "tell us about yourself", and "what do you like to do when your not taking care of your kids?" sorts. With a fussy, needs a nap, Madilyn on my lap, and crying baby in my room. 
Note- before you think I am a terrible person for saying this about having my VT come by, please know that I LOVE the organization of the church, and being able to go teach and be taught. It is an amazing and important program that I NORMALLY warmly welcome into my sticky home.
 I excuse myself again and fetch the babe. Why is he crying? His brother is not in his room, but in my room, lights on, white noise off. His signature, I want to play with my brother for 45 seconds so I will just wake him up, move.  Apparently his 45 seconds were up and he had moved himself into the bathroom.  Super off limit room to him and he knows it.  Child locks, be it medicine bottle or door are no match for him.  The damage? 2 shattered bottles of essential oils, 1 emptied bottle of prenatals, and half a bottle of children's liquid Motrin .  Foolish mother.
Again, Visiting Teachers waiting in my living room.
I send him to the hall bath to wash his hands and lock the master bath.
I head back to try to politely wrap things up.  This takes more like 15 minutes as I stand bouncing a crying baby on my hip as I listen to the sisters talk to each other about school bus logistical issues, both current and from 24 years ago.
Finally it occurs to me that I am the dumbo that just sent Destruction Mode Bo into the bathroom alone. I check in. Flooded sink, flooded draws, and a solid inch of water on the floor. He was trying to use an empty wipe container to throw water from the sink to the toilet. 
I really wrap things up with the sisters this time, and honestly tell them I'm looking forward to a much better visit next month.
1.5 hours later the kids are sleeping, and sour cream is mostly cleaned up, but another two hours before I have the courage to consider clean up my bathroom. 
For the first time ever Jordan picked up Pizza on the way home from work.

Moral of this run on sentence? I think I made the mistake of telling Jordan how the kids and I were in such a good routine of things and how 3 kids were WAY easier than two or one kid. I also casually mentioned that it was kind of sad/weird that I wasn't going to be pregnant on a child's first birthday with future younger sibling.  A first for us.  And MAYBE we should have the baby conversation soon. Do you know what Jordan and Heavenly Father had to say about that? hardee Har har.  How about a serving of Humble Pie?

Monday, August 24, 2015

"That girl has an opinion on everything"

During my first year at BYU-Idaho I made friends with a guy named Noah in a foundations class. We sat next to each other for the semester, hung out a few times, and even went skiing with Molly and a guy I do not remember. We saw one and other on campus over the years and were always very friendly, boring, boring, boring, I got married and he transferred to Provo.

So now like 6 years later Molly calls me to tell me has ran into him in Provo and they went on a (horrible) date.  One of the opening lines of date was... ," How is Tracie, that girl had an opinion about everything?".  I laughed at the story and told Jordan. His response, " well if that does not sum you up I'm not sure what does."

I think there is a negative connotation with being someone who forms opinions and sometimes makes the choice to share where they stand. By no means do I think it's ever kind or remotely appropriate to force your opinion on someone. There is a growing issue with that in our society today. However, I think it's vital that we know where we stand on almost any issue, or at least know how to get to a point where are can make an informed opinion. 

It's good to have opinions, it means you have a mind that thinks.  And in my opinion, he could have used a better opening line.  Just Saying.

"There is something reassuring about standing for something, and knowing what we stand for." -Pres. Gordon B. Hinckley

You may not agree with me, but at the very least, you will understand that your differing opinion is wrong.
-Stephen Colbert

Unrelated baby picture/ your face after reading this pointless post

Saturday, August 22, 2015

At least he didn't make a huge mess.

I nap every other day. My kids nap every single day. It how we survive. I try to wake up before my kids, but I know I've slept too long when I'm woken up by yell whispering in my ear. 116% of the time my kids find me before they venture down the hall. 
So when I woke up to silence I was sure I had woken up first. But then I heard little feet in the playroom. And before I panicked that someone was stealing the Dora puzzles I went to investigate. And found this. 

Bo. Bo dressed in all new clothes, including undies purchased during a failed attempt at potty training over his diaper, who had enjoyed playing with everything his placement in the pecking order does not allow for during madilyn's waking hours. 
And he was just peachy about it. 

His punishment? Chips and salsa with mom. 
And now being held to the standard of always dressing himself. Buttons and all. 
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