Wednesday, December 12, 2012

I'm Still Here.

Isn't the title of this post also the title of a faux-documentary about Joaquin Phoenix as he loses his mind? 

I'm beginning to relate.

We have been doing great. Really, really busy. But really, really great. Needing to post about something, I give you the four pictures I've taken over the past couple of months. 

Here is one picture from Thanksgiving. And when I say one picture, I mean literally, one picture. And it involves two crazy girls who are amped up on amped-up suckers. Thank you, Jason.

And here are two pictures of the girls while they were watching a movie after school one day. 

I thought, "it must be really nice to have a sister they can just be their weird little selves with. I wonder what it's like to have a sister that's just as weird as you are."

Oh wait....

And to top this ridiculous post off with, I give you a super cute video of my girls' first dance recital. I will not have my feelings hurt if you don't watch. But if you want to, my little hooligans are on the far right. I'm just so thankful they did not shove each other. The actually did what they were supposed to. 

And that, my friends, is what they call a miracle.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Monday, November 12, 2012

Carry On

This past week has been nuts. Nuts, I tell ya.

Jason and I have both been meeting ourselves coming and going over the past couple of weeks. Come Saturday, he will have worked 21 days straight. No breaks. No rest. Not one day off. And when he gets home from a stressful and busy day, he helps me endlessly with the girls.

I have been busy with work and the girls and keeping up with what feels like all of our crazy schedules.

Stella has been sick with a cough, a fever and she developed a nasty rash all over her legs and arms. This was due to a switch in laundry detergent that I'm convincing myself someone else forced me to buy at gunpoint. Needless to say, the girl has not been getting a lot of sleep, which translates into none of us getting a lot of sleep.

Free and clear for the rest of our lives.

Friday the girls were in our friends' was so beautiful, the bride was gorgeous and the girls did a great job.

Chloe was the epitome of a flower a girl. She was 100% committed and played the part perfectly. She kept saying, "I can't wait to go get married!!!!" Her daddy wasn't so happy about that comment. I pointed out that I was okay with it because at least she wasn't telling people she was going to marry her sister. This has been her ongoing dialogue for the past couple of weeks. Weird.

Stella was her normal spit-fire, full-of-life self and did a really, really great job. She ripped the bow out of her head right before she walked, no ran, down the aisle, but she sure was cute. The manner in which she ran down the aisle reminded me of the time last week she streaked through the Y in nothing but a diaper and pair of sandals. Quite possibly the most embarrassing and funniest moment of my life. 

Then we move to Saturday. Thought Stella was on the up and up with being sick and right before Jason and I went to bed I said, "I think we'll actually get a really good night's sleep tonight."

Kiss of death. Don't ever say those words.

Stella was coughing up a storm and Chloe started running a fever.

To add injury to insult, Chloe cut her eyeball on her dad's leg hair when he was picking the feverish kid up out of bed in the middle of the night.

Let me repeat. She cut her eye on his leg hair. I am just so thankful it wasn't mine.

An early morning call to the doctor's office turned into a run to the ER. The girl has a corneal abrasion. From her dad's leg hair. (I don't think I can say it enough, it's so weird.)

So there you have it. We've been busy. We've been sick. We've had our corneas abrased (not an actual word). But we just keep plugging along. That's all you can do, right? Keep moving forward. Enjoy the moment. Continue working hard.

Case and point. After I took Chloe to the ER, we stopped to get some ice cream. She can't open her right eye at all and pretty much keeps it covered with a rag. But the girl adapted and pressed on.

And albeit, she ate that ice cream with her eyes closed.

Even at the cost of her clean face and the teddy bear the nurse gave her at the ER. It was precious.

 If there's ever anything I can teach her, don't ever give up, girl. Especially when it comes to the important things, like ice cream.

Oh, and did I tell you that somewhere along the way I entered my third trimester? Flying by. And all I have to show for a belly shot is this ridiculous picture from Halloween.
 As I've promised my girls, I will promise the boy too. Therapy is paid for, expressly by me.

I should probably post some Halloween pictures, come to think of it. That will be first on my list when things return somewhat to normal. 

Did I tell you that Chloe has a corneal abrasion from her dad's leg hair? I don't think I can say it enough.

Jason's gonna kill me.

Monday, November 5, 2012

IPhone Pictures

Jason recently downloaded all of his iPhone pictures to the computer and I had so much fun looking through them. They go way back.

Chloe and I in Chicago.

Chloe and Jason in Cleveland.

The eve of giving birth to Stella. I looked petrified.

Sweet, newborn Stella.

 Baby sisters in Cleveland.

Being married to a doctor means having to stomach some really nasty pictures of....well, you name it...tumors, wounds, surgeries, etc.  It's been documented on the iPhone. And after a really sweet picture of your child, you pass by really gross pictures of feet and wounds. 

You have to learn to live with it.

But even after passing through all of those disturbing pictures, I was stopped in my tracks by the most disturbing picture of all.

It's a picture of the chaos we lived after Stella was born and Chloe was under a year old.

Where's the baby? Where's the baby?

Oh, Stella's just on the couch, nearly falling off head first.

Goodness. I don't know how they survived.

I don't know how I survived.

Baby boy, consider yourself warned.

Friday, November 2, 2012

The 3 pictures that broke my heart into a million pieces.

Stella has sat patiently through Chloe's dance classes for months now. The plan was to start her in the summer after she turns three, but there was an opening in Chloe's class and the teacher asked me if I'd like to go ahead and have her start. 

"Sure." I said, hoping and praying that my 2-1/2  year old would do well in the class.

So today was her first day. And she did so great! I was a little nervous that she would be nervous or scared, but when the teacher told them to line up, her sister grabbed her hand and away they went.

The next three pictures break my heart because they are so sweet.

Sister helping sister.

Nervous (or probably embarrassed) looks at mom.

And then 110% participation. I mean, look at her face. She is ready to go.

The rest of the class went great and I am just so happy and excited that I get 45-minutes to myself that she finally gets to join in.

Here are a few more pics from before class. Enjoy!

We're proud of you, Stella!

Thursday, October 18, 2012


I sent the girls out in the backyard the other afternoon so that I could locate my sanity  deep clean the house, and things became very silent outside.

Silence does not always equal good behavior.

So when I went outside to check on them, they were sitting in their chairs, staring out into the yard, holding their babies and wearing their shades and princess dresses.

When I asked them what they were doing, Chloe said, "belaxing."

Which I then translated into "relaxing."

I'm glad they think taking care of a baby is so relaxing.

They're about to find out otherwise.

Monday, October 15, 2012

The Hunt for Red October

Before I start, there are two things I need to confess.

1.) I am pregnant.

2.) I really love ice cream.

Or maybe my love of ice cream should be #1.

My pregnant addiction to ice cream was drawn to my attention for three reasons.

1.) My sister is scared to ever help herself to any of my ice cream ever again. A couple of weeks ago, she was over for dinner and after dinner, she went into the freezer to get ice cream. I was in the living room folding laundry and this dialogue began running through my crazy head. "I bet she's eating the peanut butter cup ice cream. There was only one helping left. I can hear her now. It's going to be all gone. I won't get any. And I will die. Or she'll die first and then I will die next. Wait. This is ridiculous. This is just ice cream. It doesn't matter. I don't want to be that person. The crazy person who runs people out of her life for eating her ice cream. I am going to kill her. The ice cream is gone. I just know it." She walked back into the living room and I asked as normally and sweetly as I possibly could, "is there any of that ice cream left?"

And this is the moment she looked a little scared. "There's plenty left. At the bottom." 

"Okay," I said, knowing that I just scared the pants off of her.

I had the little bit of ice cream that was left. Not quite a full serving. But it was okay. I could get some more the next day. Which brings me to...

2.) The next day I went to the Crest, getting groceries but with the ultimate goal of getting more peanut butter cup ice cream. Edy's peanut butter cup to be exact. They were out. Knowing that it was a fluke, I sent Jason later on that evening to Homeland. He came back with ice cream and I've never been more relieved. But it was Edy's caramel delight. When I saw what it was I said, "I hate caramel. You might as well take it back to the store. You shouldn't have gotten anything."

When I looked at his shocked face, I realized what a jerk I had been. "Well, they didn't have peanut butter cup. This was the closest thing I could find," he explained. I ashamedly apologized. But still, you shouldn't bring home another kind of ice cream to a crazy pregnant lady.

3.) After searching and searching and buying 8,000 different types of ice cream without finding anything that could possibly compete with Edy's peanut butter cup, I gave up. I didn't realize how many different types of ice cream I purchased until I overheard my mom and sister laughing about the amount of ice cream in the freezer.

I immediately began to take stock.

This is what I have currently in my freezer.

I am officially embarrassed. Officially ashamed. Officially crazy. And officially pregnant.

And while the title of this post is a title of a movie I've never seen. (I think it involves Soviets and a submarine and Sean Connery)  I'm pretty sure that when they were hunting for the Red October, they were hunting Edy's peanut butter ice cream.

It feels like a cold war to me.

And if you ever see this ice cream, will you kindly purchase a carton for me?
It will make my life so much better. But more importantly, it will make everyone else's lives a little better too. And they are clearly dealing with a very insane person at this point.

If you bring me a carton, I promise to share. But don't take too much. I might turn a little crazy on you too.

As a matter of fact, you should probably just drop it off and run the other way. If you haven't learned by now you should never, ever, ever mess with a pregnant lady's ice cream.


Wednesday, September 26, 2012

"Reading" Together

I will never, ever, ever, ever get tired of them enjoying books together in the backyard. It might be one of my favorite things.

 However, that Merida dress. Oh, the Merida dress. I'm about sick and tired of it. And we've had it for one week and two days.

Help my pregnant lack of patience now.

Monday, September 24, 2012

They fit in at the State Fair just fine.

And I don't really mean that as a compliment, if you no what I mean. There are some really lovely people at the fair and the there are some very strange people. My daughters, I believe fit into the second group.

Last week we took the girls to see Disney on Ice. We decided to take them to Toys R Us, pick out a new princess dress to wear to the show (because our princess dresses are ripped and smell like urine....sorry.) and these are what the two goons came out with...

Merida dresses with a wig that made them each look like Annie, respectively.

I could not stop laughing at them. And mainly because they felt so awesome in the wigs.

While we didn't let them wear their wigs into the fair to see Disney on Ice, they had to put them back on the second we got back in the car to go home.

And then this happened when we got home...

The inevitable meltdown. They fell asleep about 2 minutes later.

And I still could not stop laughing at them. I love those wigs.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

The Same Person.

Just pay attention to Stella and Jason for the next few pictures. 

I swear they are the same person.

Same smile.

Same "come on Chloe, quit pouting and smile" face. 

Same consolation style....because Chloe was upset about the sparkly shoes she had to wear to school that day. Pouting about shoes. That is 100% me.

And this picture is not so similar, but oh, so funny. This is how Stella posed...for about 5 shots. She is hilarious.

And I'd like to think she got 100% of her humor from me.

Poor kid. It's a good thing she at least got her daddy's looks.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Leotards are not Uniforms.

We've started in a venture. We're dancing, people, we're dancing. Or Chloe's dancing. (Stella tries to sneak in Chloe's class every chance she gets. She even planted a kiss on Chloe's teacher's lips in hopes that she'll let her start taking a little early.) And in all actuality, she started taking dance this past summer. I'm just now posting about it because I'm not nauseous every minute of the day....only like every evening of the day. She is having a blast and it's been a learning experience for all of us. Here are a few things I've learned.

1.) Dance moms can be intense.  (Most of them are awesome and a lot of fun.)

2.) I was looked at like I was crazy when I accidentally referred to Chloe's dance outfit as a uniform in front of said intense dance moms. Leotards are not uniforms. I repeat, they are not uniforms.

3.) Stella MUST wear a skirt while Chloe is in dance class. Otherwise she will take off her shorts in the lobby because the girls in the dance class are not wearing shorts. It's a little embarrassing when your daughter runs around for 45-minutes without any pants. Talk about some strange looks.

4.) This might be the most important lesson of all. When you dress your daughter in her, leotard... and the crotch looks a little loose in the front, TURN IT AROUND. You put it on backwards, you idiot. If you don't turn it around, you will watch in horror as the back of her leotard creeps up her behind throughout dance class. By the end of class, you realize you have dressed your daughter in a thong leotard. Not good.

At least she had panties on. That has to count for something, right?

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Her Daddy's Daughter

This little girl reminds me so much of her daddy. The way she thinks. The expressions she makes. The way she snores (no joke). Her ability to talk anybody's leg off. Among many, many other things. And now I can add her love of the pedal steel to that list.

Her likeness to her Jason is one of the the thousands and thousands of reasons I love this little girl.

She really is the sweetest. And the loudest at snoring. I love her (and her daddy) so.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

The Morning I Dropped My Daughters Off at College

After my Saturday morning workout this past weekend (I feel the need to tell you this because there is a reason I was still in my workout clothes...which isn't different from any other day. I just want you to think that I wear something other than workout clothes. I generally don't.), we went on our Saturday morning family drive. We went to our usual place, grabbed some coffee, piggies in blankets and donut holes and headed out on our drive. Jason called one of our good family friends (who happens to be the Dean at Oklahoma Christian) to see what was going on that morning and he told us to stop by OC for Freshman move-in day. He said that it's a really fun atmosphere with everyone moving into the dorms AND they were handing out Chic-fil-a breakfast sandwiches.

You had me at Chic-fil-a breakfast sandwiches.

When we pulled up on campus, the sight of parents moving in their kids brought back a flood of memories from when I moved into the same dorm 13 years ago. Did I just say 13 years ago???? Goodness, I'm old. Watching the moms and daughters and the tears that were being held back (and sometimes not) made me well up inside.

I needed a breakfast sandwich to distract me immediately.

While we were walking around I kept asking university staff if they had room for two more girls. It was a funny joke that rolled off of everyone except Chloe.

She soaked up every word I was saying. The girl would not let go of my hand. (Stella was ready for immediate move-in.) Finally, she looked up at me with huge puppy-dog eyes and said,

"Mommy. Are we going to have to say goodbye today?"

I could have died right then and there.

After fighting back the tears and holding her close, I assured her that she was going home with us.

It was then that I wondered how I will ever survive the stages that come with being a parent. And I also decided that the Rapunzel's mean mother had a pretty stellar idea. Holding her daughter captive in a tower.  Hiding her from the outside world. Using her hair for endless youth. I mean, that's pretty genius.

But I guess I can't do that. I guess I have to accept that God willing, the girls will grow up into beautiful women and we can be there to guide them each step of the way. And I pray for the day when I do drop them off at college, that I will look back and think of them as my little two-year old and three-old and the question that stopped me in my tracks.

While we were pulling away, Jason said,

"It won't be too much longer before we're doing this. I will be 49 when we our kids start going to college."

"That's funny", I said, "I won't be a day over 35."

And then I drowned my delusional thoughts and sorrows in that Chic-fil-a breakfast sandwich. I immediately pondered how I would survive the real kindergarten drop-off in a couple of years after narrowly surviving a fake, years away, college drop-off. I have a feeling it's not going to be pretty.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Just to Remind Myself

... That after 2 weeks of insisting she no longer needs a nap, naps from Rapunzel can still happen.

I didn't think it was possible.

And apparently she's so wiped out she can sleep while wearing flip-flops...

And continue her nap while her sister annoyingly kicks her in the legs.

We all have to give in at some point.

In even dumber news, my love of gummy bears has transcended into a love of cola gummies.

I have never ever liked these little half-filled, cola flavored, bottle shaped, gummy things. 

But now they are delicious.

And so is ice water. I used to only drink luke warm or room temperature.

Who is this baby, where did it come from and what is it doing to me????????

I hope that all of you have a wonderful Friday and an exciting weekend. My weekend will be spent contemplating my new love of all things gummy.

And since I've blogged three days this week, does this mean I'm officially back to blogging?? I know what you're thinking..."Let's hope not". I understand the sentiment completely. No need to apologize. But while you're deleting me from your blog lists, if you have any ideas about the gummy obsession, please send them my way and then delete me forever. Clearly, I'm in need of some serious help and possibly an intervention.