The Lashley Life

Wherever You Are, my love will find you

2012-02-11T08:19:00.000-08:00

Stella's birthday went off without a hitch. We had a blast celebrating her special day. And even though all went as planned, there were several funny (and embarrassing) happenings throughout the day.

And I'll save those for another day.

Until then, I leave you with this picture. When I looked at this, all I could think of was an excerpt from a book I read them often.

In the green of the grass...in the smell of the sea...in the clouds floating by...at the top of the tree...in the sound crickets make at the end of the day...

"You are loved. You are loved. You are loved," they all say.

-Wherever You Are my love will find you, Nancy Tillman.

Happy Birthday, Stella!

2012-02-10T06:58:00.000-08:00

My sweet Stella turns two today. I can't believe it. It feels like just yesterday....okay, I had to pause to wipe away my tears. I'm just so proud of this little girl. She has brought more joy and laughter into my life and I'm so thankful for her.

Stelly Belly, we love you so much. You are so independent, so sweet and so hilarious. Your sister says to me all the time, "she's sooooo funny." And it's true. You have brought more light into all of our lives and everyday with you is a day that is precious. We love you. We are proud of you. And we love watching you grow up. Just stop growing up so fast, okay?

Happy 2nd Birthday, Stella Elizabeth!

Birth.

First Birthday.

Occupied.

2012-02-03T05:45:00.000-08:00

This weeks has been so busy. It has felt like Monday turned into Friday in the blink of an eye. Luckily, I printed off about 100 princess coloring sheets and it has kept the girls super occupied. I mean...for like an hour at a time. I love it that something so simple can keep them thoroughly entertained.

Even if it means that Chloe has had ample time to perfect her "gothic princess" motif. According to this almost-three-year-old, princesses must have their eyes, hair and part of their clothes blacked out. She only added the bright colors to keep her mommy from calling a psychiatrist.

And Stella just loves to color.

Everything. Including her princess camera bag. And the table. And the walls. And her face. Whatever.

If it keeps them entertained. And gives me a chance to get a few things done.

It works for me.

Hope you have a great (rainy) Friday!

This Little Weirdo.

2012-01-26T09:34:00.000-08:00

This little weirdo...

Who wears her sunglasses upside down and marches to the beat of her own drum. Who makes me laugh more than any person I've ever met. Who teases me when she calls me "Mom" or "Morg-a-dee" because she knows how much I want her to call me Mommy. Who looks exactly like her Daddy and sometimes make me ask "where did this girl come from?".

She turns two in two weeks.

I can't believe it.

I love her so much.

I wouldn't change a thing about my almost-terrible-two-but-we're-pretty-much-already-there, little weirdo.

Tinkerbell, The Cowboy, and a Laundry Basket.

2012-01-25T12:13:00.000-08:00

Getting dressed in the morning makes me want to pull my hair out. Or not wash it. And then put in a ponytail on top of my head. At least I shower everyday. That's an improvement.

If you're a mom, you know what I mean.

Gone are the days of blowdrying my hair in peace.

Until Cowboy, Tinkerbell and the Laundry Basket came to town.

Now, I know what you're thinking, "Cowboy? I get Tinkerbell, but Cowboy?" Yes. She thinks she's a cowboy in that hat, and I will never tell that messy-faced little girl any differently.

While I was getting dressed a few mornings ago, the girls were eerily quiet. I peeked out the bathroom door and found them on my bed, in the laundry basket smiling and talking to each other.

And then they started doing this.

Just tipping themselves over.

Which was really cute, because I was able to take pictures like this.

And then things got a little weird when one would get under the basket and the other would stand on top. They did this several times. Just getting a little aggression out on their sister, you know.

And even though I didn't get my hair fixed the way I wanted (because I had to take pictures of them), it's okay. It was all worth it to see them play so sweetly together.

It looked like so much fun, I'm thinking about trying it with my sister the next time she comes over. There's nothing weird about a 23- and 31- year old playing in a laundry basket, right?

Get ready, MaKenna, get ready. It's gonna be fun.

Look for me, I'm the girl in the Thunder shirt.

2012-01-23T15:52:00.000-08:00

Jason and I are headed to our first Thunder game tonight. And I. Am. Pumped.

While I was getting dressed tonight, I couldn't help but reminisce about a night 6 years ago. We were newly married, living in Chicago and were braving our first year of medical school.

I came back home to Oklahoma for an extended trip (the move was a little hard for me) and during that time, I went to a few OU Men's Basketball games with my dad. One particular game was a big game and it was televised. When my dad and I arrived to our seats, there were white shirts for us to wear.

"Oh great, it's a whiteout," my Dad said. I was obviously looking a little perplexed and he continued, "Everyone in the stadium wears a white shirt and it looks really great on TV."

I looked at the XXXXXL white shirt and sighed. I've never been one who enjoys dressing thematically and I was not thrilled about the idea that I absolutely had to wear the shirt so that I wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb.

I waited until the very last minute before the game started, threw on the shirt and sat there in a slump. My dad noticed my apathy and being the ornery kind said, "You should call Jason, tell him where we're sitting, have him look for us on TV and tell him to look for the girl in the white shirt. That would be hilarious."

Looking around, I looked at all the white shirts, looked at all the girls and thought, "this is genius."

I called Jason, who was still in Chicago, and had the following conversation.

Me: Hey, Jason. I think you'll be able to find me on TV. Are you watching the game?

Jason: Yes.

Me: Okay. We're sitting right behind the OU bench. Go 3 rows up and four people to the right. I'm the girl wearing the white shirt. You should be able to find me pretty easily.

Jason: Okay. Great. Bye. I'll look for you.

"That was really good," my Dad said.

"Yes. That was really, really good," I responded with a satisfied grin on my face.

Not 32-seconds later my phone rings...

Jason: Morgandi. Are you serious? You told me to look for a white shirt. And it's a whiteout!!!!!!!

Me: Yes. That was the joke. Because it's a whiteout.

Jason: Oh. That was funny. (Eventually laughing.)

You see, we hadn't been married very long and the endless amount of orneriness had yet to expose itself. What he thought was a blonde moment on my part, was in fact the very DNA of my personality and a joke.

He has learned since.

I think.

So look for me tonight on TV. I'll be the girl in the Thunder shirt by the tunnel where the teams comes out.

I should be really easy to spot.

My shirt looks a little something like this...

And this...

And this...with my arms in the sleeves...

And this.

See you on the other side.

I Hate to Say This

2012-01-13T18:02:00.000-08:00

Let me repeat. I hate to say this.

But well played Miley Cyrus at the People's Choice Awards. Well played. I love this dress. Love her look. Love her hair. Love her makeup. The shoes are alright. I've seen better bags. And the smirk on her face has to go. No more smirking. No more making your face look like something it isn't.

I'm hoping she keeps this look going. It's actually, dare I say...I mean, I'm choking out the words....This is working for you, girl. You look really....pretty.....lady like....like a star.

Here's to hoping she doesn't pull out some pleather pants at the Golden Globes (I have no clue if she's actually going to be there, but if she is....no pleather and lace. I repeat no pleather and lace. Unless your Stevie Nicks, of course.).

Out with Old, in with the New.2

2012-01-02T11:49:00.000-08:00

Remember these lovely, white, cushiony brand new running shoes from last year's post?

They make their second appearance in the picture below. In the back. Like a shunned child. The worn, grey, flat as pancakes, ran-way-to-many-miles-in shoes.

I took myself and my shunned shoes over to Elite Feet to visit James this afternoon. Which, by the way, is the only place you should go for shoes in the OKC area. James is an expert and will get you in the right pair of shoes. Or in my case, two pairs of shoes.

I've registered for the 2011 Marathon and I need these shoes to make it through the training and the race.

I was really dragging my heels about registering for the marathon for 2 reasons and 2 reasons alone.

1. Each time I've registered for a marathon, I've ended up pregnant during the training. That's right. 2 registrations. 2 children. Simple math. Marathons=Babies. Another Baby=Scares the pants right off of me.

And reason number 2.

2. I don't want this to happen again. Peeing your pants one time in public is enough. But lucky for me, my fabulous running partner, Miranda is training and running the race right along with me again. I can't believe she agreed to this again, because I am a little annoying when I run and I peed my pants while running next to her. However, she has promised that she will pee her pants during the marathon just to make me feel better about myself.

So wish us (and my uterus and bladder) luck as we train.

It's a long road, but I'm excited to take it. Especially in a brand new pair of shoes, or two.

Smile.

2011-12-24T13:18:00.000-08:00

My Christmas wish came true! Pictures of the girls actually smiling.

Smiles.

Reflective smile.

Ornery smile.

Precious smiles.

Embarrassed by their parents smiles.

Hilarious smiles. Because I'm sure I said something funny.

And...well....I never said we were perfect.

Wishing you a very, very Happy Christmas with lots of laughs and smiles.

Love, The Lashley Family.

Stella Ate It.

2011-12-21T13:44:00.000-08:00

Is it a bad sign when your daughter takes a bite out of your newly purchased parenting book?

Or just a sign that you actually needed to purchase the book.

Either way...when the girls are misbehaving in public, and someone asks me if I've read any parenting books, I can honestly say,

Stella ate it.

This is the way we go to church.

2011-12-20T13:32:00.000-08:00

It's a question I will ask myself until the end of time. Why is it so hard to get ready for church? Not to be left out, this question also. Why are we always late for church? I would like to think that it's because I actually have to take the time to wash my hair and get dressed (which is probably the real reason), but I blame it on these two.

Tweedledee and Tweedledum and their entourage.

Before we can even think of getting in the car to go to church, we must have the following.

Christmas dresses-check.

Bows in hair-check.

Jackets-it's not that cold outside. Next time.-check.

Blanket-check.

Little Mermaid-check.

Belle with mangled hair-check.

Booger check-check.

Sippy cup-check.

Sleeping Beauty book-check.

Tutu that must go over and not under the dress-check.

Mama's sanity-check.

Mama's washed hair-check. Sometimes.

Photo-op-check.

Neighbor's that must think I'm insane-check.

Tweedledee and Tweedledum-check.

15 minutes late to church-check.

It's amazing that I even remember to pants on. But it's worth it for these two.

I sure do love my little weirdos.

Shake it Out/Drown it Out

2011-12-12T15:09:00.000-08:00

So, I've never claimed to be the best mom of all time.

But I'm no idiot either.

Except for when it came to stashing their Christmas toys in the back of the car and forgetting about them.

When I got the girls into car for church on Sunday morning (and yes, Stella did look like that. She won't let me fix her hair anymore. She says, "No, Mama! No, Mama! My heeeeeeeeeeeeer {hair}!!!!" So I have given up. She looks like a wild woman.) I had a moment's panic when I looked in the back and saw the toys sticking out of the back in plain sight.

But since we were running about 15 minutes late, I just let it slide. They didn't notice the toys in the back, so I would take care of it when we got home.

As we were driving, jamming out to our usual Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, I hit a little bump and heard-

"Ring. Ring. Ring." (That's not exactly right, but it's the sound that all Tinkerbell toys make. A little jingle, if you will.)

I held my breath and gritted my teeth.

"Ring. Ring. Ring."

Chloe and Stella immediately turned their heads looking and asking for Tinkerbell.

This eventually turned into begging and crying for Tinkerbell.

I had two choices.

Show them their Christmas toys or change our tune.

I had no other choice but to change our tune. I turned off Twinkle, Twinkle, and jammed out to a little Florence and the Machine.

I turned up Shake it Out and sang at the top of my lungs.

And while I have to thank her for writing such an awesome song...a song that is really loud and allows me to sing really loud; I don't think her main intent when writing it was to drown out an idiot mother's poorly hidden Tinkerbell toy.

But it worked.

I couldn't help but write my own version... "Drown it out, drown it out, Drown it out, drown it out. Oh! It's hard to drive with Tinkerbell in the back, so drown her out. Oh!"

That was bad. I promised myself I wouldn't share that.

But I guess I share everything else.

At least I wasn't writing about my panties. Right?

Never too late to be thankful.

2011-12-09T18:25:00.001-08:00

Nothing excites me more than the craft projects the girls bring home from school. Especially when it has their sweet, little handprints. Awe, I just love it.

So when the girls brought home their Thanksgiving crafts I was nearly bursting at the seams. (Which was clearly last month, and we're almost to Christmas. Whatever.)

And of course, in the true nature of my children, there was something embarrassing and oh, so funny about their Thanksgiving crafts.

I present to you Stella, as a turkey-

So dramatic, and yet, I feel appropriate for the turkey type. Which she totally is. I'm just glad that I'm not the only one she doesn't smile for when a camera is pointed in her face.

And not to be outdone, Chloe's list of things she's currently thankful for-

And there you have it.

Panties, of all things.

But I guess that we should be thankful for everything. I've been thankful for my panties on many occasions. Especially when I was four months pregnant, living in Chicago, wearing a flowy empire-waist dress on a very blustery day, walking into work, the pathway fully lined with professors and other professionals' windows, right as the workday was beginning and everyone was in their offices or walking on the pathway, and my dress decided to fly up over my pregnant belly and meet me in the face.

I was thankful for my panties.

And I was thankful for the skirt covering my bright red face.

And I'm thankful that no one ever said a thing about it.

And I'm thankful for my girls. That they keep me on my toes. And that in spite of their tendency to make my face turn bright red, that they make me laugh.

That's what life is all about.

It's what makes me very, very thankful.

And only slightly embarrassed.

Abs, From all Angles

2011-12-03T07:07:00.001-08:00

I'm not one to post pictures of midriffs on my blog, however, I read this awesome snipit in the latest Women's Health and I couldn't keep it to myself.

Here's what it says.

"Planks and crunches are surefire ways to build core strength, but they're not enough to whittle your middle, says a new study. Volunteers did seven different core-strengthening exercises five days a week. After six weeks, they had stronger ab muscles, but they didn't lose fat or inches. To zap body fat, you have to train all of your major muscles groups, which increases your resting metabolic rate so you blast more calories all day long, says study author Sachin Vispute, M.S.Ed., of the University of Illinois at Chicago. To lose the flab even faster, add cardio and watch your diet."

I believe in this whole-heartedly. And this is why in my own workouts and when I'm training clients, the emphasis is on total body strength-training, not ab exercises. In fact, we spend very little time on abs and the time time spent on abs is mainly spent in some variation of the plank.

And the results are there.

After having the girls, my abs were pretty obliterated. I mean, you can't blame them. I was pregnant for basically two years. After Stella, I picked up my running mileage and managed to drop most of the weight pretty quickly. But I had a few stubborn pounds and a gut that just kept sticking around.

Running alone was not cutting it.

My sister passed along this book to me and it changed my body completely. After just a couple weeks of strength training my sister looked at me and said, "Your body is starting to look like it did before you got pregnant." I thought I heard angels singing in heaven. That was the best encouragement ever.

The best thing about the program I followed in the book was the fact that it had very little ab exercises, yet my abs were coming back into shape. Dare I say, somewhat flat. When you place the emphasis on strengthening your entire body, your abs manage to tighten back up.

And while I can't say they're perfect, I can say that the new normal is pretty good.

So my advice, buy the book, follow one of the programs, clean up your diet, lift like a boy and you will see results.

Yum.

2011-11-28T16:54:00.001-08:00

I had one of those days today.

A great day. A busy day. A fun day. A productive day.

But one of those days.

Where you feel like if you spend one more second inside with your children you might combust.

Jason worked late tonight. The second he walked in the door, I made a lame excuse to run to the store.

I needed "groceries".

Mommy really needed a break.

So I went to Crest. Scoured the store for the necessities. As I was headed to pick up milk, Jason called. I answered. And he asked me if I was okay. I said yes, but I just needed to get out of the house for a little bit. He said that he completely understood and that I could take all the time that I needed. He had it all under control.

I stood in front of the milk section and tears came to my eyes. That was quite possibly one of the nicest things he could have said to me. Something I needed to hear. After a few seconds of realizing that I probably shouldn't be wiping away tears in the store (at least my own) I meandered.

And I meandered right on over to the nut section. I felt a little more at home there.

And I found these babies.

I figured if I couldn't drown out my day with one of my favorite vices--chocolate covered almonds of any kind--I would drown my tough day with the next best, nutritionally more responsible thing.

After I checked out, I headed to my car, dug the almonds out of my purse, sat in the driver seat, opened the lid and enjoyed the cocoa roast almonds.

I've been praying to God to help me find more balance in my life. To not be so busy. To slow down and really enjoy life with my ever-growing children. I miss blogging. I miss really documenting their lives. But I decided to really hold off with the blog until I felt true inspiration. Never thought I would find it in a canister of nuts.

I thought that things would get easier as the girls got older...and in many ways that is right, but in many ways I was oh, so wrong. I mean, they have opinions and big personalities and lives that need true shaping.

I don't want to miss out on any of that.

So as I sat there eating my delicious almonds, I decided to head on back home.

Not because I really, really wanted to, but because I had to.

I had chocolate ice cream in the back seat and I didn't want it to melt.

I never said I was perfect.

Just a little more balanced.

My One and Only Football Post

2011-11-06T05:37:00.000-08:00

And really it's not about football. It's about earthquakes. And the earthquake we had last night. 5.6 and I felt it. I was dead asleep when I was woken up by rumbling. I ran through the house and found Jason. He hugged me and I said,

"That's the first one I've ever felt!!!!!"

I was a little excited.

I forgot about the earthquake until I checked facebook this morning. It made me want to ask, "Was there an earthquake last night? I'm not sure. No one posted about it."

One of my friends had this on their page.

A video of Kirk Herbstreit in an interview during the earthquake.

Now I'm not a huge football fan, but a Kirk Herbstreit fan.

Yes. Yes. and Yes.

Here's the video. (It happens in the first few seconds. Stick through all the football talk to hear his comment at the end. It's really funny.)

And for an even better and more hilarious shot. A still of Herb's quake face.

I guess if you're ever going to get me to mention football on my blog it will have to include two things.

Earthquakes.

and

Kirk Herbstreit.

Cinderella, Cinderella

2011-11-05T05:57:00.000-07:00

Last year, Halloween was simple. The girls were animals. We walked around our street one time (mainly to take pictures), went to a party and then went home and put the grumpy little animals to bed.

And I think they were asleep by 7:00 PM.

This year, however, it was Halloween full force. Nothing is more exhausting than the number of times we wore our costumes the week before Halloween...to school, to Story Book Forest (except that it was rained out and we never made it), to the Y...and by the time actual Halloween rolled around, the costumes were a bit of a mess. So the majority of the pictures I will post are from their first time wearing their costumes to school.

And yes, they were both Cinderella. It was just easier that way. And that was what they both wanted to be.

(I miss the fuzzy animal costumes. And the 7 PM bedtime).

Here's Cinderella.

And Cinderella.

And five seconds later. Crazy-haird Cinderella. And her sister who is trying to escape out the front door.

It's amazing how quickly the wheels can come off with these two.

Their costumes survived school, but they did not survive the next trip. As we were getting ready to go to the Story Book Forest that never was, Stella jumped off of Chloe's bed and broke her crown. Not her head. But her princess crown. There was no way to repair and when I went back to the store to look for a replacement, they were all gone. So I had to buy a monstrosity of a crown. And Chloe, being the sweet girl that she is, decided to wear it because she thought it looked so awesome. I didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

Here it is. A couple of girls with a couple of funny head pieces. But by the end of trick-or-treating, Chloe somehow ended up wearing Stella's crown and the big crown was nowhere to be found.

Mysterious.

The girls had a blast trick-or-treating.

Here they are at our Aunt Nancye's house.

And Stella pretty much looked like this the entire time. Not because she didn't want to trick-or-treat, but because she learned that people have dogs in their houses. And nothing scares her more than a dog.

Not even that scary skeleton, or a guy dressed up as a zombie that jumped out at us or spooks or ghosts or goblins could scare this girl.

Just dogs.

All in all, we had a great night. The girls had a blast. But I don't think that anyone had as much fun as Jason and me. There's nothing like watching your kids experience all the great things that childhood has to offer.

It's the best, right?

For sentimental value, Chloe's first Halloween.

No! Not Again!

2011-11-04T01:57:00.000-07:00

This is how Chloe looks after I take a shower. Let me repeat. When I take a shower. Completely and utterly soaked to the bone.

I dread taking a shower while they're awake, which is why I try to squeeze one in before they wake up or during naps. But if I have to take a shower while they're awake (and let's just be thankful that I'm showering everyday) it becomes this huge ordeal.

I try to distract them with toys or snacks or Bubble Guppies, but the second they hear the water start running and the shower curtain close, I can hear the pitter patter of little feet.

Then I hear, "Oh no! Mommy! Nooooo!"

And the shower curtain is ripped open.

And it is freezing and I start feeling a little exposed.

And when I think they're distracted, I slowly creep the shower curtain back closed, only to hear those feet running towards me again with Chloe screaming in the most terrified voice,

"NO MOMMY! Oh no! Not again!!! Not again!!!!!!!!"

Drama.

And the shower curtain gets ripped open again.

And she gets soaked.

And I'm freezing.

I mean, showers shouldn't be this dramatic. As far as I know, they've never seen me go into the shower and not come back out. I don't think they know about the secret passageway in our shower that leads to a faraway land. I mean, seriously. Girl needs to get a grip.

And her momma needs a shower.

Which we should all be thankful that I'm taking.

Everyday.

I'm so proud.

Even Cinderella Needs a Schedule.

2011-10-31T14:32:00.000-07:00

Can I just go ahead and say that I thought that I was going to have to abandon ship (this blog) with this new interface thingy? Confusing! But I think I've figured it out.

Today is Halloween. To the world, it's also the day Kim Kardashian filed for divorce from Kris Humphries (shock) and Jessica Simpson announced she was pregnant (even bigger shock).

But to Chloe and Stella, today is the best day ever. Because it's Halloween. Because they get to dress up and go trick-or-treating. And because they finally understand that Halloween, dressing up and trick-or-treating go together. And it's the best day ever for me because I get to witness their excitement. And mainly it's Chloe's excitement for Halloween and Stella's excitement because Chloe's really excited.

When Chloe woke up this morning, I heard her open her bedroom door, go through the toy cabinet, and walk into the living room. She sat on my lap with her pumpkin, gave me a good morning kiss and hug and said,

"Mama, I wanna go outside."

"Baby, we can't go outside. It's dark and only 6:45 in the morning and I still need at least 3 more cups of coffee before I would even contemplate such a thing."

"Mama, I wanna get in the car."

"We can't get in the car, Chlo. It's too early in the morning."

After much thought, "Mama, I wanna go trick-or-treating."

"Not until tonight. We have several things to do today before we go trick-or-treating."

"Okay."

For the next hour, repeat the above conversation every five minutes.

So being the brilliant mom that I am, I came up with an even more brilliant plan. I made Chloe a schedule. Now, if I were a super-creative and crafty-type mom, I would've come up with an elaborate, picture-coded schedule with magnets and stickers and bells and whistles and things.

But I ain't crafty.

And you won't want to pin this. But it has worked like a dream.

I present her schedule....

And I know what you're thinking. It's pretty uncreative and not very useful for a 2-year old who can't read. But it has worked. And she's never been more excited to complete the tasks on her schedule. And I've never been so happy to see that my daughter loves a schedule as much as I do.

And so when this little Halloween fanatic asks when we're trick-or-treating, I just point to her schedule and we count all of the activities until the big event.

I hope that all of you have a wonderful Halloween and I can't wait to see pics of all of your kids.You know that I'll post about 652 of mine. And they'll probably all be blurry because I haven't used my camera for a month of Sundays and apparently you have to practice to get great shots. So...I'll be practicing tonight. While my girls are living out their Halloween dreams. "Cinderella with a Schedule" style.

31.

2011-10-17T14:38:00.000-07:00

I am 31. Officially. It is my birthday after all.

And it's been a good one.

The celebration started this weekend. All of my family came in town for my birthday dinner and we spent it at Othello's. Good food. Good atmosphere. Great company.

I got about 50 pictures of Stella planting big kisses on her cousin Jack. Can't wait to show them these one day. Maybe on each of their first dates.

Chloe was not into the kissing. Not in the least. She taught him other things. Like ignoring your baby cousin.

And drinking out of a straw. All very important concepts.

This was our side of the table. A bunch of winners if you ask me. Especially this one.

And these two as well.

After dinner we headed outside and stumbled across a block party. So of course the girls had to dance.

And dance. (I have to tell you that they each got a set of dance skills from one of their parents. I'll never tell you which one got their dad's acceptable skills and my, well....I don't even know how to explain my dance moves.)

And even little Jack got in on the action.

We took quite a few group shots and these are the best. I promise. I'm not kidding. Group pictures is really not our thing.

See what I mean?

But in all honesty, my birthday weekend was awesome. I love being with my family and we had such a blast.

While I had major reservations about turning 30, 31 has been a breeze. I'm happy to be 31. Happy to be right where I am.

Today has gone great. I knew it was going to be a good one when Chloe and Stella sang me Happy Birthday this morning. The best rendition I've heard yet. I had a nice 6.5 mile run, ate the rest of my birthday cake for breakfast, trained a few clients, spent the afternoon with my girls and I'm about to spend the evening with my guy. Can't beat that.

Here's to hoping for a great year!

If your Dad is going to teach you to golf.

2011-10-07T07:25:00.001-07:00

It's best to do it in a pair of sparkly heels.

At least that's how we do it around here.

I hope all of you have a great Friday and a wonderful weekend!

Another Year, Another Mom of the Year Award

2011-10-04T15:36:00.000-07:00

I've won this award about three times now. Because I'm just that awesome. I'm not sure who sponsors this award...or even where you send your recommendations, but I just keep winning.

I left a little something out of my post yesterday. A sad detail. A detail that leaves me confused as to why Stella is so pumped about bands. Or maybe she just gets a whiff of a band and begins to feel a little sting in her eye. I'm not sure either way...

While at my mom's school for homecoming, things were getting a little hectic before the homecoming parade. A few kids were leaving the class to get on their floats, other kids were watching a movie while inhaling candy, I was trying to scarf down a cheeseburger my mom brought us from the cafeteria, and there was one girl who had her eyes intently on the girls.

You know this girl. Okay you don't really know her, but you know the type. She was so sweet and so intrigued with my children. She talked to them and held their hands and played with them. I'm pretty sure that she has more of a motherly instinct as a 4th-grader as I do as an almost 31-year old mother of two. I have to admit that I admired her ease and wished that I had a just an ounce of her ability.

My mom announced to her class and to me that it was time to go. (When she said it to me she really meant, get a hold of her children, put down the cheeseburger and get ready to go.) She was in a little bit of a mad rush which put me in a mad rush. The 4th grade girl stayed as calm as a cucumber; helping me get the girls in the stroller, handing them their drinks, making them laugh. This girl was good. I was a mess.

My mom handed me the sunscreen and said, "They'll probably need this." I couldn't have agreed more. It was the kind of sunscreen that sprays a mist. And while I hadn't used this kind before, we had the same type at home. Except for one major difference.

This was not the "tear-free" type.

And stupid me, I sprayed it all over Stella. Just like I always do. But this time she rubbed her eyes and started screaming.

I felt like a loser mom.

As I was trying to clean her up, I kept trying to reassure Stella that I loved her and that I was so sorry and that I felt so horrible and that the sting would go away soon. While I was trying to get the sunscreen out of her eyes, I kept hearing that little girl explain to her fellow classmates,

"She sprayed sunscreen in her eyes. That's why she's crying."

Except that it my ears it sounded less like the sweet little explanation that it was and more like a booming announcement over the loudest speaker imaginable.

"SHE SPRAYED SUNSCREEN IN HER EYES. THAT'S WHY SHE'S CRYING. SHE MIGHT BE THE WORST MOM EVER!"

And I hid my head in shame for the rest of the parade. And Stella eventually recovered from the sunscreen. She's still recovering from the shock of having her mom spray her directly in the eye with which I'm sure felt totally like mace. Here's what she looked like for much of the afternoon, poor thing.

And I can still feel that little girl looking at me with horror. I'm sure she still feels like a logical explanation for my actions are in order. My explanation is this. My name is Morgandi. I'm a mom. I'm not perfect. I really like cheeseburgers. And I try my best. Really I do. But most of the lessons I've learned about being parent have been like some sort of sick science experiment. I try something. It doesn't work. Most of the time it really, really fails, but I know better the next time. Or the time after that. Or the time after that. But I can promise you this, I will never spray my baby in the eye with sunscreen again. Especially not when you're around.

You can send my mom of the year nominations to this address.

momoftheyear@momoftheyear.com.

Just don't tell them this story. Okay?

I'm With the Band-Aid

2011-10-03T11:40:00.000-07:00

My little girls are obsessed with many things. Shoes, princesses, sing-along DVDs, dolls, cars, shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes. Okay, you get the picture. One thing I hadn't assumed they would be obsessed with is the brass family. But apparently, you show them a trumpet, a trombone, a tuba, drums (okay, not part of the brass family); they go nuts.

I took the girls to my mom's school for the homecoming parade and football game. We had a blast. I had fun visiting my old high school and the girls had fun with all of the students. As we lined up for the parade, not much caught their attention, but this did.

And as it got closer, you could see the wheels turning in their sweet, little heads. It was as if their heads were saying,

"Noise. Noise. Really loud noise. Bright outfits. Awesome hats. Why aren't they wearing high heels? Noise. Noise. Noise"

And this obsession lasted through the rest of the afternoon with immeasurable amounts of conversation spent discussing drums and trumpets and trombones.

And it lasted through the football game. We sat right by the band, so the girls were in utopia. Chloe got face-to-face with a tuba, and she talked to the tuba (not the boy holding it) in a very matter-of-fact manner.

"Hi, Tuba.

My name is Chloe.

How are you?

Bye, Tuba."

So this morning, I was not surprised when Chloe ran in the house screaming,

"Mommy I hear a band-aid.

Trumpets. Trombones. Tubas. Drums!!!!"

And without any prompting from me (and not a chance that I would correct her calling the band, band-aid) they pulled their chairs up to the edge of the porch and listened intently to our local high school marching band practicing.

And they stared off into the distance, listening to the band-aid.

I watched and thought about how they looked like a little, old married couple; and how they could possibly be in the band one day. And how I would be so proud to raise a band nerd. And how one of them would probably persuade the band director to let them wear heels with their outfits.

That would be one stylish band-aid, if you ask me.

I'm Just Going to Warn You Now. This Post is a Little Weird.

2011-09-15T14:33:00.000-07:00

But you shouldn't be surprised for 3 reasons.

1. It's my blog. And I'm weird.

2. It's about my daugthers. And they're weird.

3. This post is about the fair. And doesn't the fair bring out the freak in all of us?

I should've known that things were going downhill quickly when I picked out my wardrobe. It was hot this particular day and for some reason I decided to wear skinny jeans and a long-sleeved denim shirt. I don't know. It was a random choice. And then I forgot to eat breakfast, which I never do, and I was nauseous, sweaty and feeling faint all day. Short sleeves would've helped the situation. Shorts would've helped that situation. A fan with a water spritzer would've helped the situation. Remembering that I forgot to eat breakfast and scarfing down an Indian Taco would've helped. Oh well.

I give you, Scenes from the Cleveland County Fair 2011.

We started out on the Merry-Go-Round. A little back story about Stella. She is terrified of dogs. Screams at the sight of them. Loves them from a distance, but if she gets up close, she wigs out. So naturally, what animal did we put her on? A dog. She looks terrified doesn't she? I'll blame this one on my mom, even though I told her to put Stella there. Oh well. She had fun once it started and realized that in fact the dog was not real. Poor thing.

Chloe loved it. Because she wasn't petrified of the animal we put her on.

And this is where I started getting weird. I don't know why I felt the need to pose for the camera in such an absurd way. I blame hunger.

I'm not sure how to explain this one. Heat stroke, maybe.

And then we went straight to the hay ride. And we met Santa. It was awesome.

We spent the whole hay ride hearing Santa's story. We heard about how he gets mistaken for Santa all the time, and how he "plays" Santa during Christmas time. I felt like telling him that he's Santa the entire year, but I think he was trying to keep some anonymity. I wanted to tell him that anonymity is impossible when you start the hay ride by announcing your Santa.

Then we went for a tractor ride. Aka, my mom pushed both the girls around while they pretended to pedal and steer. She's awesome and oh, so patient.

Stella rubber-necked Santa for most of her tractor ride. I can't blame her.

She clearly loved it. Mainly because there were no animals involved.

Look at that precious face. She looks kind of scared that the Merry-Go-Round dog is going to jump around the corner at any second.

Stella had a little photo-op with Sonny. Sonny is my mom's mom and I'm so happy we've been able to spend a lot of time with her lately. We all love her so much. Stella participated for about 5 seconds.

And then she bailed, which is her general mode of operation.

After the tractor ride, we went to look at the miniature ponies. And I nearly had a heart attack when Chloe stuck her head in to give one of the ponies a kiss.

But she made it out with all facial structures intact. My heart rate eventually went back down to a normal pace.

We then made a stop for a corn dog. And just for your information, if you go to the Cleveland County Fair you can get a Strawberry New Orleans, which is the ultimate desert. Not dessert. Desert.

But the error was forgiven once I saw the advertisement for a Hot Beef Sundae. Mmmmmm. That sounds delicious and disgusting all at the same time. And I love that.

Despite my nausea and sweatiness, we all had a great time. I love experiencing things with my girls. I think I enjoy things more now that I can experience them through my daughters' eyes.

And I'm so thankful that we get to experience all of this with our families. It's just so priceless.

And I hope that in spite of making Stella ride a dog on the carousel, that she doesn't hate my guts for giving her such a complex. Can't you hear her telling her therapist one day, "My mom knew that I hated dogs, and she just put me on that dog on the carousel without even remembering my fear of dogs..."?

And I hope that the girls still like me one day, in spite of being so weird.

But I tell ya, the fair (and denim shirts) just brings it out in me.

Remember that one time?

2011-09-13T15:43:00.000-07:00

Remember that one time when your beautiful daughter turned 2 1/2 and you totally forgot to blog about the milestone? No?

Well, I did.

Chloe turned 2 1/2 on Friday and while I didn't forget, I did forget to blog, or mention it in her baby book. Except that there is no baby book. This blog is her baby book. I figure that I have to start giving her a complex sometime. And so it begins now.

Therapy is already paid for, sweet girl.

I love this precious girl more than anything, and I celebrate with pictures.

Surprise, surprise. But at least there's not 78, like the last post. Only 52.

She is the light of my life.

And makes every single day a blessing.

I love you so much, Chloe Starr.

My Name is Morgandi. I'm a Mom.

2011-09-09T04:49:00.000-07:00

The girls had their first day of Sonshine School yesterday. And I only took 80 pictures. You heard that right. 80. And I'm only posting 78 on here. Consider yourself lucky. It was really tough to decide which pics would make the cut.

And on a side note, you can totally skip this post unless you're one of our parents. I really think they'll be the only ones interested in the pics. My narrative, however, is anyone even interested in that? Probably not. Just look at the pictures. You'll get the gist. My kids first day of school. It's really a novel concept.

Chloe was so ready for school. We've been talking about it for weeks and she was pumped for the first day. She had an innate sense that first day of school pics were imperative to her mother's sanity, so she went for it.

She posed with her backpack.

With her dad.

With her crazy mom.

Her sister, on the other hand would not even whisper the name "Sonshine School". Or "school". Or "you'll have to be away from mommy for only 5 hours. You'll love it, I promise". And when her pictures started out with this face:

I knew we were going to be in for some interesting and entertaining pics. And I was right.

I just wanted one picture with my little baby and she had other things in mind. It's a sad progression. I'm just warning you now.

But then she fed into the excitement of it all and started dancing. And yelling "Sonshine School". She totally forgot that she would have to be away from mommy for 5 hours and went for it.

She danced her little heart out.

And danced.

And then she gave me an awesome dork face. Which you know I love more than anything.

And eventually, with my knees knocking from nervousness, we went to school. And we took them to their classrooms. As was predicted, Stella cried. And Chloe didn't even look back to say bye.

And Jason and I (eventually) left once I knew my Stelly Belly was okay. And we walked to the car and I only cried for a minute or five. It was a weird feeling, not having my girls with me.

But then we went to the grocery store and it was so peaceful. No screaming. No yelling. No sticking out like a sore thumb because of the noise that can come from my girls. At one point I did a little twirl in the aisle. Just like a figure skater. Or a ballerina. After I caught myself twirling, I realized that I had no idea why I felt the need to do this. It was a total out of body experience. Eventually I came up with three reasons. 1)It was such a calm trip to the store. 2) I had 5 hours of freedom 3) My shirt was so flowy and it looked really pretty when I twirled around.

I must confess that Jason and I played hooky for the day. We will both work while they're in school, but not on that first day. We seized the opportunity for a little bit of freedom. So we did the one thing that we haven't been able to do in a while.

We went to a movie. And ate Chinese food in the food court of the mall. And it was awesome.

And I cried through the whole movie. Cowboys and Aliens. Joke. That would just be pathetic. We saw The Help. Awesome movie. And while an emotional movie, I probably emoted a little too much. But it was a good excuse to get those first day of school tears out of the way. And also a good excuse to eat chocolate and drink a Dr. Pepper.

After our day of freedom was over, we picked the girls up from school. They did great. They were so tired and hungry and exhausted, and I was so happy to have them with me again. In that moment I felt so proud.

I love my girls. They mean everything to me.

And I'll go ahead and apologize to anyone who saw me perform my twirl at the store. I couldn't help it. My shirt was just so flowy. And I just felt so free.

Girls' Night

2011-08-18T07:18:00.000-07:00

Last night, Jason had dinner with friends and I had a girls' night.

With my daughters.

It was actually a lot of fun. As of late, things have become a lot less logistical (like, how am I going to make it through any sort of store without a stroller, or a cart, or an extra person or a Xanax) and more more easy and less stressful (like, I can go into Braums for a gallon of milk and my daughters can actually walk, and I don't need a stroller, or a cart, or an extra person, but maybe still a Xanax.) This may not seem like a big deal, but it is. Having a bit more freedom to do the little things without planning every single minute step is really nice.

So for our girls' night, we spent our time out in the backyard.

Chloe swam in her clothes. I'm still not really sure why I let her do this. It just seemed like the right thing at the time.

And Stella walked around the backyard in one shoe. Again, it just seemed okay at the time.

And I grilled by myself, for the first time in my life. I made teriyaki chicken.

And some sort of carrot/brussel sprout situation that was delicious.

All while cooking and playing and swimming, I did my most favorite thing of all.

I perused the pages of Vogue.

And I fell in love with these shoes. And I'm ever so hopeful that Forever21 will come out with a $20 knock-off.

And I fell even more in love with Diane Kruger's sense of style.

And look at this cape. Isn't it gorgeous?

And I was inspired by Stella McCartney's sense of casual style. So effortless, right?

And again, Diane Kruger. My hat is off to you. And those shoes. Forever21, please make a knock-off of these too?

But the best moment of the night was watching Stella peruse the pages of Vogue. Saying "shoes, dress, beautiful." Ah...a girl after my own heart.

What a great night.

And I thought we'd be home potty training.

2011-08-16T14:35:00.001-07:00

I guessed wrong.

Instead we've been home puking, changing bedding, changing shirts, changing diapers, doing 8 loads of laundry, spraying down the house with Lysol, boiling toothbrushes, boiling sippy cups, boiling everything imaginable...

And then we ventured out of the house to run to the store for chicken soup and sprite. I thought the girls were finished puking and on the way up.

Wrong.

As I was wheeling the cart through Crest with cheetah-like speed, Chloe looked at me and I knew.

She puked all over the floor.

And I couldn't help but puke on the way home, hanging out the car door.

But the girls are napping. And it's been 3 hours without any sort of puke in sight.

I'm ready for the girls to stop looking like this.

And to look like this again.

Potty training will be saved for another day.

I Have No Words.

2011-08-15T12:16:00.001-07:00

Except I do have a few. I'm sure you're shocked.

This is me when I was three.

But the most notable fact of this picture is my awesome dork face.

Very reminiscent of this child.

And this child. And here again.

Aren't they lucky to have my genetics?

Thanks Mom for reminding me that even I have a dork face.

My Little Stelly Belly

2011-08-10T14:09:00.001-07:00

My sweet, little Stella is 18 months old today. 18 months old. I absolutely cannot believe it! When I told Stella this morning during a mad rush that it's her half birthday, I asked her if she wanted to do a little photo shoot. She looked me square in the eye and said, ever -so-matter-of -factly,

Yes.

So she made her way down off the chandelier she was climbing on (which was probably not in fact not a chandelier, but more of a standing-on-the-coffee-table sort of the thing. Which might be worse than swinging from a chandelier. I don't know.) and headed to this particular chair, by this particular window and started posing away.

Here is 18-month old Stella as thoughtful and maybe a tad bit shy.

And here is her serious 18-month pose.

And here is her "look at me, I'm so much fun at 18-months pose".

Then she immediately climbed down and back onto the coffee table and began contemplating how to get enough air to get jump to the couch. She is crazy and a daredevil, and will most likely give me a heart attack by the time I'm 31.

But she is my precious girl. The light of my life. My heart and soul. And I love my Stelly Belly with every ounce of my being.

Happy 18 months!

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Last Year

2011-08-09T13:07:00.000-07:00

(Title should be sung to the tune of "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas")

Apparently the thought of celebrating my sister's birthday at an awesome burger joint sent me into a particular frame of mind--the exact frame of mind that I was in last year, celebrating my sister's birthday at an awesome burger joint.

Here is Chloe, August 5, 2010.

And here's Stella, August 5, 2011.

(It's her party and she'll cry if she wants to, okay?)

Notice the similarity? Same dress. And this was not planned. The whole time we were eating, I kept thinking, "something is funny. I know it is. And it's not the fact that Stella is a wild woman and is playing under the table while eating french fries off the floor. No that's not it."

So we just kept celebrating my sister's birthday with my mom and Sonny.

And I kept having that strange feeling.

And I went home and immediately figured it out. I'm a freak. But you probably already knew that anyway. And I don't know who's going to wear that striped dress next year. It won't be my baby, I can promise you that.

And I hope that next year I don't wear workout clothes to a burger joint. (I have an excuse, I was training a client right before lunch.) It's just strange wearing workout clothes while inhaling a burger and fries. And I'm just not that ironic.

And I also hope that I never again run 6.5 miles after eating a burger. Not pretty, not pretty at all, my friends.

But there is one thing you can probably guarantee about MaKenna's next birthday.

Stella will probably be wearing a pink dress that looks a lot like this one. And it will be an accident. And around August 8, 2012, you will find another post on this pathetic blog titled "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Last Year, Part Two".

Happy Birthday, MaKenna! Another year older means that you're almost as old as me.

Wait, that's not right.

It was a valley.

2011-08-05T05:43:00.000-07:00

It all started when Chloe wouldn't fall asleep until 4 AM. No, take that back. It all started with a cupcake. Yes, it must've been the cupcake. Or the toddler bed. Or the weening of the pacis. At this point, it's hard to remember the chain of events, because all I know is that it's all been a blur. A long, hellacious, life-teaching, lesson-learning blur.

It was a valley.

Weening the girls from their pacis was not that bad. Not that bad at all. It took about a week for them to realize that they weren't coming back, but they survived. With a lot of tears and weeping and wailing, they finally understood...pacis are for babies. But like any good addict Stella has stolen a couple of sucks off a helpless baby's paci here and there. Chloe has been a champ. No looking back for her.

And then we switched Chloe to her toddler bed. And she totally rocked it. No problem at all.

Until the cupcake. That stupid, stupid cupcake.

Chloe loves a cupcake. She has maybe had a total of three or four in her life, but she sees a cupcake and immediately starts singing "Happy Birthday" and goes into an ultra-concentrated inhalation of the cupcake. If you want to see a 2-year old focus for more than 30-seconds, give Chloe a cupcake.

On this particular day, Chloe was treated to a cupcake at lunch. And then we went home for naptime. (Consequently, this was also the day that Stella brought me my empty cup of coffee asking so sweetly for, "more coffee. more coffee." I could've died. She drank an entire cup of [cold, don't worry] unflavored, black coffee.)

I went to put the girls down for their naptime and Chloe freaked. The sugar surge was too much for her to lie in a bed, and close her eyes, and take her normal 3-hour nap. She made the bold choice to not nap and she made it very clear to me that she was going to win the battle. And I made it very clear to her that I was more stubborn than she, and that a nap was in her future. By 4 PM, after 3 hours of putting her back in her bed 1,876 (I counted) times, I gave up. She won. And her nap didn't happen.

And it didn't happen the next day.

Or the next day.

And I thought I was going to die. Chloe won. I lost. And I felt like the worst mom on planet Earth.

And here's a little warning for you. Don't post queries about other children's nap habits on facebook unless you want to crawl into a cave and not merge until your children are in college. The question went something like this..."Fellow moms, when did your kids drop their afternoon naps?" And the responses went something like, "My kids are perfect and they nap 8-hours a day, and sleep 12-hours at night-We've never had a problem with our little angel-Perfection is my kid's middle name." Don't get me wrong. Some comments were funny and some were really helpful and encouraging, but I still felt mortified that my child was THE ONLY child not taking their afternoon nap. Again, I was searching for that cave and I felt really, really down.

I decided I needed to toughen up. The next two weeks were rough. It was a period of trial and error. Of stubborn-ness on my end that the Supernanny would be proud of. I deserved gold stars for the sleepless nights, the bedtime battles, the laughter, the tears. The strange events--A night where Chloe stayed up until 4 AM, 3 puke episodes not induced by sickness but 1.)a chip 2.)motion sickness in the car 3.)crying. A nearly 18-month old that has decided to do everything her older sister does, which means that I now have two daughters in their terrible two's. A horrible scratch on my eye (hence, the glasses in the pics). Of almost being late to work to work a couple of times. A morning of showing up for work, realizing that I had my husband's keys and not my keys to open up the gym. A portion of that morning was also spent with my daughters coloring behind the front desk in their pjs, because of scheduling confusion. And all in all, amongst other random events that I probably can't remember, it was a blur.

But the good news is, I survived. And more importantly, my eye is much better. Joke. My daughters made it through. And I believe that we are the better for it. We are back on track and things are slowly but surely returning back to normal. Naps are back. Good night's of sleep are back. I have learned that I'm not perfect. And my children aren't perfect. And while I always try to do my best, even my best efforts at times will not do. Kids go through stages. And it's the stages that are so trying, but ultimately so precious. And I know that I will look back and laugh, heck, I'm laughing now, but I know that I will miss this time. And I know this because through the whole experience I would tell my mom, "I'm not going to survive. They are going to kill me." And she would just laugh. She laughed because she has been there and knew that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

I've never been one to sugar-coat parenthood, but I've learned that lending a little bit of honesty about the trials and rewards of being a parent is important.

If someone is in the valley, tell them that you've been there; tell them that you are there.

And laugh with them.

Because in the end, we all need a little encouragement and a lot of humor.

So if you are in the valley, my advice is this. Just go with it, do your best, be stubborn, follow your own instincts in spite of anyone else's opinion, steer clear of facebook, know that things will get better...and ultimately, take a picture of yourself while you're in the valley, with your hair a mess, sans makeup, sans shower, your eye scratched, in your dorky glasses with your daughter behind you, naked no less.

Because it's the times that aren't perfect that mean the most.

And keep walking through the valley. You'll eventually make it to the other side.

I promise.

Counting Sheep, I Suppose

2011-07-28T12:54:00.003-07:00

After the girls woke up from their nap the other day, I went to get into the drawer that holds all of their diaper things. I nearly panicked when I looked inside because this is what I found...

8,000 wipes. Neatly tucked away in the drawer.

After pulling the mound of never-ending wipes out, this is what it looked like.

Pretty massive.

But I guess when you move to a big girl bed, and your mom threatens you that if you get out of that big girl bed she'll move your crib back in, but you're ever-so-sneaky, and you can do ever-so-sneaky things very, very quietly, you can do things like this. All I could think was that at least after she obliterated the drawer, Chloe had the decency to put all the items back in the drawer and shut it. Maybe she's learning a little something from me after all. And if this is what it takes to get a little sleepy, I suppose she can count baby wipes instead of sheep, at least for the time being.

And I suppose that she is the culprit for misplaced items around her room that I've found after the girls' naps; books in her sister's crib. Baby doll bottles jammed underneath pillows. Puzzle pieces on the bookshelf. Chairs moved across the room. Naked Barbie dolls strewn across the floor.

But again, in the continuous stages of childhood and the frustration that was naptime for a few days last week, I'll accept the random items and the baby wipes for what they are.

Energy Expenditure.

And in the spirit of keeping things in perspective, sometimes it's all that matters.

A Wedding Reception

2011-07-24T15:38:00.000-07:00

My good friend Sybil was crazy enough to ask me to shoot her wedding reception, and I was brave enough to take her up on it. I had so much fun and it was a beautiful reception. Justin and Sybil were married in Santa Fe, and then had their reception in downtown OKC. It was a great venue and everything from the decorations, to the food, to the people were fantastic. I thought I'd share a few (or 8,000) of the pics in collage form as to not annoy you anymore than I know I already do.

Congrats Sybil and Justin. You guys make a beautiful couple!

Model-Like/Ms. Brenna

2011-07-22T06:28:00.000-07:00

I hate to even show you these pictures.

Hesitate at the thought of it.

I don't want you to get jealous.

But this is just a fact.

My girls get in front of the camera and they really know how to turn it on. To pose. To look at the camera and smile. Very model-like, if I may say so myself.

No funny faces. No dork faces from Stella. No apathy from Chloe.

Look at Chloe's enthusiasm for the camera. It's palpable, isn't it?

Please tell me that the fingers in the mouth is just a phase, right? Not that Chloe would ever stick her fingers in her mouth, I'm just asking for another mom who is having this problem with her 2-year old.

In all honesty, this post is about Ms. Brenna, and my girls love of Ms. Brenna. Brenna works in the childcare at the Y and has been a constant in my girls' life, for the past 10-months or so. Everyday, when I drag their little diaper booties to the Y, Brenna is one of the many awesome teachers that the girls spend time with. Her last day at the Y is tomorrow and she is moving on with her life...getting married, moving to Norman....and I guess I'll let her go. Not that I really have a lot of say in the matter.

Brenna is the one that Stella loves the most. If Stella had her choice between myself and Brenna, Brenna would win hands-down. And this says a lot, because if Stella could attach herself to me 24/7, she would. She is a momma's girl through and through.

But Brenna trumps her momma every time.

As much as my girls are going to miss Brenna, I'm going to miss her just as much. It's a wonderful feeling knowing that when you leave your children somewhere, that there is someone not only watching out for them, but really caring for them. And it's apparent how much she cares for them.

We will miss you Ms. Brenna!

PS. Sorry my girls are freaks and can't take a decent picture, but you get what you get with them.

How We Roll the Gospel

2011-07-10T06:11:00.001-07:00

This is how we Roll the Gospel at our house. And all I can say is that the devil should be afraid. Very, very afraid.

A Couple of Weirdos.

2011-07-08T13:13:00.001-07:00

While I was showering the other morning, I let Chloe and Stella loose in our bedroom, praying that they would quietly watch The Mickey Mouse Club and not tear apart every single item in the room.

Mission accomplished.

But I couldn't help but notice what they were doing.

Chloe found her sunglasses.

And Stella found my shoe.

After Chloe realized she had her sunglasses on "incorrectly" (which means they were on the right way), she flipped them over to wear them "correctly". I cannot convince this girl that she wears them the wrong way. She has a freak flag, and she apparently likes to fly it.

And Stella continually tried to stick both of her feet in one of my shoes. This girl loves shoes and she has successfully worn and walked around in nearly every single pair of my shoes. And if you've seen my shoe collection, you know what an accomplishment that is for a 17-month old.

As I was watching them, I couldn't help but ponder the question. Future fashionistas or future weirdos? I can always hope for fashionistas. And that someday we will all be wearing our sunglasses upside down and we'll walk around with both feet in one pair of shoes.

But I'm betting on weirdos.

And I love it.

I wouldn't change anything about them.

Just Your Everyday Text Message Conversation

2011-06-30T11:51:00.000-07:00

A Conversation Between Jason and Myself: June 30, 8:19 AM

Me: You don't even want to know what one of our girls was doing when I went to get them out of bed this morning.

Lash: What!!!!!!!!

Me: Stella had her diaper off. Poop smeared everywhere. And she was eating it.

Me: I nearly vomited. Her poop had raisins in it.

Lash: Did u get her cleaned up or let her hang out a while?

Me: Seriously? You think I would just sit around and let her eat her raisin poop?

Lash: I was teasing!

Lash: Totally.

Lash: Total joke!

Me: I know! I was wondering why they were being so quiet in their room.

Me: I bet Chloe talked her into it. Chloe kept saying, "stinky, shooey, diaper."

Lash: Hahahahahahaha!!!!!!

Me: It was so gross. I put her in the bath and had to scrape the dried poop off of her fingernails with my fingernails. I could have died.

Me: It took me forever to get it off.

Me: I wish this would've happened to you. I don't think you would've made it through.

Lash: I'm gonna call in a minute.

Me: If I don't answer, I'm probably too busy vomiting in the toilet. Are you sure you wanna have more kids someday?

And I never received a response.

Summer Bunnies

2011-06-20T10:59:00.000-07:00

I don't think there's anything better than the summertime.

And summertime bunnies.

And diaperless bottoms in swimsuits.

Which means there's probably a lot of pee in that $15 pool.

And that's only slightly gross, right?

Face Paint

2011-06-18T06:32:00.000-07:00

This picture has proven a few points:

1. We need to have a tutorial on "look at the camera". Clearly the girls think it is something to their right.

2. We need to have a tutorial on "smile for the camera". They go into a blank comatose stare whenever the camera goes in front of their faces.

3. We need to have a tutorial on face paint in general. And more specifically that it is not a tattoo. It is not permanent. And that it will wash off in the bath tub. That was a bit perplexing and upsetting for the two-year-old.

4. I need a hair tutorial. Humidity wreaks havoc on my hair. Thanks a lot, Oklahoma.

5. I guess that I shouldn't complain too much, at least they weren't doing this.

Hello? Is anyone out there?

2011-06-16T14:56:00.001-07:00

Hello out there!

I finally remembered my password after what feels like a 6-month hiatus, so lucky for you (not), I'm back. I'm signed into blogger. And I'm back. I think.

So if you don't remember who I am. My name is Morgandi. I have two girls. They are hooligans. And they are 1 and 2. That's pretty much all you need to know.

So where have I been for the past month?

Studying.

Don't be shocked. I still have a few brain cells left. At least 4 or 5 really, really good ones.

After a lot of thought and a push that I needed from my boss at the Y, I have decided to pursue personal training. I figured that I'm in my workout clothes all the time anyway, so why not have a valid excuse, right?

In all honesty, I've wanted to be a personal trainer since I was in college. It was just never the right time and I was too busy doing other things. But now, God has opened up the door and I feel like I'm on the right path.

So for the past month I've been studying my booty off. And doing absolutely nothing else, besides taking care of the girls and working. So, studying, girls and working. Oh and the laundry and mowing the yard and cleaning and paying bills, etc. Budgeting my time has been difficult and I failed miserably at so many of my responsibilities.

The laundry room has consistently looked like this:

The kitchen table has looked like this:

And I had tiny little markings all over my notes, note cards and textbook as a reminder that I still have little hooligans who rely on me, and who also like to mark all over my stuff.

But I wouldn't have had it go any other way. The hardship of finding time to study, and the brain capacity no less, was proof of how much I want to do this.

So this past weekend, after weeks and weeks of studying, I had a 3-day workshop and a practical and written exam. Hopefully I'll receive my results soon to see if I passed. And then I can start working. I'm so excited and hopeful to start this new venture in my life. This has always been a dream of mine and I feel like the sky is the limit. And it's nice to feel like that again.

So here is to hoping that the next time you see me, and I'm in my workout clothes, I'll have a valid excuse.

Actually, It was Great.

2011-05-10T05:53:00.001-07:00

I can't let you think that the day was spent with the girls knocking me in the face. The most important factor of this whole day was that I was able to spend it with my mom. The most amazing mom a girl could have. This was my first to spend with her since becoming a mom myself. And that's pretty special.

After the picture fiasco, we just started swinging. And we spent most of that day under the trees. Swinging. And we were all pretty happy. And I didn't get smacked in the face once.

The sweetest gift I could've been given came from Chloe. As a general rule, our girls don't sleep in bed with us, unless of course they are scared or sick. Sunday night, as it was about to turn midnight, I hear Chloe let out a blood-curdling scream. I shot out of bed, ran into their room, assessed the situation in .42 seconds and realized that I had forgotten to turn on their nightlight. And nothing scares Chloe more than not having her nightlight on. So I took her out of bed and brought her to ours. She immediately fell asleep and I decided that I'd give her a few minutes and then put her back in bed. But I ended up falling asleep right along with her.

At about 2:00 AM, I was given the sweetest kiss. I woke up to Chloe about 2 inches from my face, patting my chest and whispering, "Sissy? Sissy?" I was so struck by how sweet, quiet, gentle and loving she was being.

"What is it, Chlo?" I asked her.

Still whispering, "Sissy? I want milk. I want blanket. I want bed."

I'm still not sure why she was calling me Sissy. She's called me mommy, momma, mom, Daddy, Morg and Morgandi. But never Sissy. It made me hopeful, because I can only believe that I look unbelievably young while I sleep. Much like her actual Sissy.

So I fixed her milk. Put her in bed. Turned on her nightlight. Tucked her in tight. And I got another kiss.

Before I shut the bedroom door, she said, "I love you momma."

There really is nothing better. I mean, I really enjoyed my gift of a miniature shopping spree at Forever21, but this beats cheap shirts and sunglasses any day. Well, not any day, but some days.
It's just one of those memories that I never want to forget.

I hope that all of you had a wonderful Mother's Day!! You all are very inspiring moms and women (and to the few male readers) men. But I guess you technically can't be a mom. So never mind. I'll get to you on Father's Day.

My Mother's Day

2011-05-09T11:44:00.000-07:00

My Mother's Day looked like this.

And this.

Happy Mother's Day to me.

This is the day-

2011-05-06T12:10:00.001-07:00

For wearing pigtails for the first time.

For being shocked by the fact that she actually has enough hair to wear pigtails. This is where she was a year ago.

(Thankfully she still has those chunky arms.)

For trying and failing to properly focus on my subject while taking pictures.

For taking "big steps". She's not tooting, I promise.

For making you stare at Chloe's molars.

For playing outside.

For sweet smiles.

For posting way too many pictures.

Again with the focus. I don't know what my problem is.

For being ever so thankful .

The end.

Clarification & A Fashion Plate

2011-05-04T12:01:00.001-07:00

I feel like I need to clarify a little fact after my last post. I do not pee my pants on a regular basis. In fact, I haven't peed my pants in years. Decades, even. Well, except for when I was 22 and had a dream that I was swimming in water. Or the time a few years ago when I laughed so hard with Jason. Or the time a few months ago when I decided I would add jumping rope to my workout routine. I haven't jumped rope since.

Okay, so maybe it happens. To everyone. You know it's happened to you. Especially if you've had a baby. It's amazing what that will do to a girl.

But I need to let you know that it doesn't happen when I run. It has never happened when I run. It was just so cold and so wet and I held it for a really long time during my two-and-a-half-hour run. It's like sticking your finger in water or hearing water run when you really have to go. Sometimes you just can't help yourself when the odds are stacked up against you.

So don't be scared if your running next to me on the treadmill. I will control myself. I promise.

But moving on to another girl who pees her pants on a regular basis.

I introduce to you, Stella. Future Fashion Plate of America.

Please look at her right arm. That would be a leg warmer that she demanded to wear on her arm. She cried and cried and waved the leg warmer in my face until I decrypted her baby talk and understood her need to express herself through fashion.

A girl after my own heart.

And yes, sometimes I let her put all the tupperware in the trash can when I'm busy.

That's just how I roll.

The Most Annoying Runner You've Ever Seen

2011-05-01T15:29:00.000-07:00

If you want to see the cheesiest and most annoying runner/blogger you've ever seen. Here she is.

Oh, wait. It's not that girl. She's my awesome running partner, Miranda. The annoying one is the girl behind her. Smiling like a lunatic. Doing her best Kate Middleton, uh...Princess Catherine wave to her billions of adoring fans. Or all six of them at least.

Today was my second half-marathon in OKC (first half was in Chicago), and it rained the entire time. To add to the rain was a little hail, gusty winds and chilly temperatures.

But I loved it. Every second of it.

If you want to be inspired, run with the great people of Oklahoma in less than ideal conditions. You will see the true spirit of the people. I honestly never heard a negative comment. And it was awesome to see people push through adversity and run their best. It made me feel so proud to be a part of such a great race.

A race that most importantly, remembers.

Even though we were freezing and soaking wet the entire 2:25:00, it was an awesome experience. One positive note (just to look on the bright side of things). The soaking wet aspect really helped when I peed my pants a little bit. I think it was camouflaged by the rain.

Gotta love pushing out babies.

Goodbye for now.

Love,

The most annoying, the cheesiest and the most over-sharing runner/blogger you've ever seen.

Britney Spears Parenting 101

2011-04-20T10:25:00.001-07:00

I would like to think that as a mother, I teach my children well. Especially in the moral department. I really do try to teach and show them good morals.

I had to think twice about what I was teaching my girls when I was on my way home from the office the other day.

While in the car after dragging the girls to the office to get a few things finished up, Chloe said from the backseat...

"I want beer."

"You want what, Chlo?"

"Beer. I want beer."

"You want WHAT?" I ask with sweat beginning to drip down my face.

"Beer." Now crying, "I want BEER. I waaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnt BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER."

And this is the point when I almost wrecked the car. Almost fainted. Almost had a heart attack. I stared crying. Started questioning. Started wracking my brain. I began to question my moral education. My mothering. Everything. And then the worst thought of all occurred when I thought, 'this is what Britney Spears' kids must ask for. They probably ask for beer. In the world of parenting I'm equal to Britney Spears. I guess one of the girls should just hop in my lap while I'm driving if this is the parenting road my kids and I are headed down.'

When we were at a stoplight I turned around and looked at Chloe. Through her tears and through her beer tantrum, I finally saw what she was pointing at.

In her bag, was this...

A teddy beer. That she stole from the office. So while we're not 100% on our morals, hence the thievery, at least she's not asking for beer.

She only asks for her (stolen) teddy beer.

Guilty Face Strikes Again

2011-04-07T13:42:00.000-07:00

After my workout this morning, I went to pick up the girls in the Childcare room.

Chloe ran to me immediately, showing off the toy she was playing with.

Stella was in the high chair.

In trouble.

Her hair was a mess.

She looked like she had been crying.

She was wearing her Guilty Face.

I looked at the teacher with a bewildered look on my face, and she said, "Oh, man. Stella was something else today. She had to sit in the high chair most of the time because she was kissing all the boys."

I didn't move for about five seconds. And then I just leaned over, put my head in my hands and started laughing. I pulled her out of the high chair and smothered her with kisses.

My nearly 14-month old was terrorizing every boy there with her kisses. What am I going to do with this girl?

So remember those candles I asked you so kindly to light in my last post, strike a match and keep those babies burning.

Thanks again.

Bunny, Guilty Face and the Conspirator

2011-04-06T13:26:00.000-07:00

If you want to see a face full of guilt, look no further.

I present to you, my daughter, who I now call,

"Guilty Face"

While she and her sister were supposed to be napping, the little stinker took down one of the picture frames from her wall.

Disassembled it.

Threw the picture on the floor.

And proceeded to pelt her bunny with the frame.

And I'd like to present to you daughter number two, who I now call,

"Conspirator"

Because I know, like only a mother knows, that this was Conspirator's idea and that she convinced Guilty Face to take action against her bunny.

And Conspirator tried to play it off by yelling, "Oh no! What happened?" when she went to check out the scene of the crime.

Nice cover-up.

These girls are up to no good, I tell you. No good.

Pretty soon they're going to be sneaking out at night to meet their friends at "Sesame Street Live."

You can start lighting candles for Guilty Face, Conspirator and they're very helpless parents now.

Thankyouverymuch.

Candor

2011-04-01T13:20:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder about the amount of candidness and frankness that we have with one another. How often do we give blanket answers, blanket statements, blanket implications; like, I'm fine, I'm doing really well, things are great, I love being a mom all the time.

I met someone, a fellow mom, who was so frank and candid about her experiences; from being pregnant, to postpartum depression, to surviving the day-to-day life with her children. It was so refreshing to hear. And it made me really think about the struggles that have been presented over the last two years.

I always make jokes and remain light about the difficulties of motherhood, but it's not always the case. And if you're a mother, you know that every day presents different challenges, different struggles and different triumphs. It is difficult to transition from being a single person with no responsibilities other than yourself to becoming a mother. And for me, not once. But twice in under a year. You suddenly turn around and you have two little people who are depending on you, without a break. They are yours. You are responsible for their health, their safety, their well-being, their spirituality, their happiness. And sometimes that is overwhelming.

Some days are hard. Some days leave me in complete tears. And sometimes I wonder what I'm doing with my life. It felt like just yesterday I was living in Chicago, with my job and my husband; and I had tons of freedom. And now, I stay at home with my girls, and I'm trying to fit "me" into my life that is now consumed with diapers and sippy cups and tantrums and nap times and bath times and bed times.

I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not. There is nothing more that I want to do than raise my children. And I am very happy and satisfied with my life. I just think that it's okay to not always sugar coat and give blanket statements about your life. Life is a struggle. Parenthood is a struggle. Being pregnant is a struggle. Having a newborn is a struggle. Dealing with the crazy hormones you have postpartum is a struggle.

But it's okay. It makes you stronger. It makes you who you are. Someone who is tired and stretched-thin and sleep-deprived and often times a little crazy. But it makes you who you are.

Someone whose heart is big enough to love beyond yourself.

It makes you a mom.

Karma

2011-03-31T13:56:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my little world came crashing down. On the kitchen floor that is.

Brace yourselves.

My coffee pot broke.

Take a few minutes to cry if you need to.

I pride myself on being a pretty easy going person. Even keel if you will. This temperament has been put to the test by my daughters and especially the two-year old and for the most part, I always keep my cool. But the one thing that sent me over the edge is the coffee pot. I love the routine of making and drinking coffee every morning. It's my thing. And it didn't happen this morning and I feel a little off kilter. And a little grumpy from the caffeine headache.

So if anyone wants to send a coffee maker my way, I would appreciate it. I can't bring myself to buy a new one. I keep thinking it will reappear on my kitchen counter.

When I ask myself why this happened. I only have one answer. Karma. It broke while Jason was trying to kill a nice little house spider that kept poking its head out from the window sill above the kitchen sink. My poor little coffee pot was knocked to the ground during the battle. And unfortunately the spider won the battle. It was still there this morning poking its little head out. And my coffee pot lost.

So don't go killing God's little innocent creatures. Because you might lose a coffee pot in return. And your sanity. And I don't need any help in that department.

I Heart Faces Photo Challenge- Slice of Life

2011-03-27T19:55:00.000-07:00

Arezzo, Italy. July 2010.

Hypotenuse for the everyday toddler.

2011-03-24T15:21:00.000-07:00

In geometry, a hypotenuse is the longest side of a right-angled triangle, the side opposite the right angle. The length of the hypotenuse of a right triangle can be found using the Pythagorean theorem, which states that the square of the length of the hypotenuse equals the sum of the squares of the lengths of the other two sides.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

I was putting away laundry the other day, when I rounded the corner to find this scene.

Except that it wasn't a bear on top of the potty which was on top of the coffee table. It was Chloe on top of the potty which was on top of the coffee table. And I guess every girl needs to sit on top of the potty, on top of the coffee table with her puppy, cheerios, a bottled water and a book to get the full potty training experience. Because that's exactly how I found her.

The second I rounded the corner, I gasped. Yanked her off the potty and disciplined her. And then I hid in the closet and laughed hysterically for about a minute straight.

Which is how I spend most of my time parenting. In the closet, laughing no less.

What was the first thing that came to my mind while pondering what just happened? How I would keep this from happening again? Why was the potty on top of the coffee table? Why am I such a loser parent? When am I really going to begin potty training? Why is my daughter such a weirdo? Why am I such a weirdo? Why am I in the closet again?

Nope.

All I could think about was my 8th grade Geometry class. Mrs. Rosenbaum. Studying the hypotenuse. And our teacher showing us a picture a student had drawn to help aid in memorizing exactly what hypotenuse means. It was a picture of a guy. On the toilet. On top of a mountain which represented a right triangle. And for some reason, this 8th grader's drawing of a guy using the bathroom tied into the definition of hypotenuse. And she said, "Look at this picture. It's a high, pot, in use. Get it? Get it? A high-pot-in-use. Hypotenuse."

And I distinctly remember thinking what a waste of 50 minutes this Geometry class was.

I will NEVER use it again, I thought.

Well, I guess it wasn't such a waste.

Except for the fact that the only thing I remember from that Geometry class and any math class in general, was a picture of a guy. Sitting on the toilet. On top of a mountain that represented a hypotenuse.

And now I have a real-life example of a toddler who apparently has equated her potty training experience to that of a high-pot-in-use.

Thanks Chlo, for bringing a little education to this house.

Days Like Today

2011-03-22T14:54:00.001-07:00

I love days like today. Warm weather. Windows open. No television. Regina Spektor playing. Patty Griffin playing. Ryan Adams playing.

I love days like today because my eldest is in her own little world in the back yard.

And I love days like today, because it's 4:30 and in spite of my attempts to wake my youngest up from her nap, she's still snoozing. And so is her beloved baby doll.

And I love days like today because I'm caught up on the cleaning. On the laundry. On a couple projects. On work.

And it feels nice to finely be caught up a little bit.

And I love today. Because my daughter is begging me to come and play with her and her wooden monkey (don't ask). And she wants me to "sit on car. Push you." And so I'll probably go and let her push me around the back porch. (And yes, she is as strong as an ox.)

And I love today. Simply because it's today. And it's warm. And the windows are open. And I'm with my babies. And the music is playing. And my daughter will soon be pushing me in her toy car. And it's going to get real interesting when I try to get my tushy on that tiny thing.

And there's no place else I'd rather be.

Except for maybe Hawaii. But that's not happening anytime soon.

So... home is just fine with me.

One of the reasons I love Stella.

2011-03-17T13:09:00.000-07:00

I was looking through pictures from Stella's 1-Year Birthday Parties. And yes, I mean parties. 5 of them. We love to celebrate our girls, if you can't tell.

Even though it was her day. And even though she could've eaten the entire cake by herself, sending her into a sugar tailspin never seen before.

She shared her cake with me. And you know I kind of like to eat anything I can get my hands on.

I love this sweet girl. And her sweet little spirit. And her capacity to share her cake with her momma. Or daddy as she has called me for the past two weeks. (Has anyone else had this happen to them? She will call me momma again someday, right?)

But what topped it off was the kiss I got afterward. She basically licked my lips. And she might've been licking the icing off my lips, but I'm counting it as a kiss.

So make that two of the many reasons I love Stella.

Kisses and cake.

And her chunky arms.

Make that three.

How my sister and my daughter celebrate.

2011-03-16T10:21:00.000-07:00

I have been out of touch with my blog for a few days now, and I'm just getting caught up on everyone's blogs. I found this on my sister's blog and I'm crying. Because it's so cute. So funny. So touching.

Go here to see.

Never Wake a Sleeping Baby.

2011-03-11T05:14:00.001-08:00

If this picture does not prove that I will go to great lengths to:

1. Drink my beloved protein shake every morning, and

2. Never, ever, ever, under any circumstances wake my sleeping children

Then I don't know what will.

The other morning I was stuck in quite the perplexing situation. I really, really, really wanted a protein shake. To the point of almost turning on the blender inside, knowing that it would wake my babies....er, toddlers, whatever.

Instead, I used my ever-shrinking brain cells and devised a fantastic plan.

I decided to take it outside on the back porch.

So I blended my protein shake. At 6 AM in the morning. On the back porch. In my pajamas. In the cold. In the silence (sorry neighbors). On top of the girls' training potty.

And yes, potty training is just going so well that it is now a play toy in our back yard.

Whatever.

Happy Friday!

Birthday Girl.

2011-03-09T11:22:00.001-08:00

My beautiful daughter turns two today. I can't believe it's been two years. In many ways, it feels like yesterday I was holding her for the first time. I honestly can't remember what my heart felt like without her in my life. As much as she's grown over the past two years, I feel like I've grown more. I never understood what my mom meant when she would tell me that I taught her more than she taught me. But I get it. And I feel that way.

I love you with my whole heart, Chloe Starr. No matter what. You are loved.

Happy 2nd Birthday, sweet girl!

My one year olds.

2011-03-08T07:35:00.001-08:00

Today is the last day that I can say that I have two one-year olds.

And I'm a little sad.

This past month has been a month that I dreamt about since I knew that I was pregnant with Stella.

All I could think was, "how fun will it be when I, for one month, can say that I have two one-year olds?"

And the month has come and almost gone.

It's been an exciting month.

A challenging month.

But ultimately, a very fulfilling month.

All I can say is-

I love my one-year olds.

Probably more than they'll ever know.

Kids These Days

2011-03-07T11:27:00.000-08:00

You invite your dear friend and her daughters (which happen to be your daughter's dear friends) over, and instead of playing together, they talk on their play cell phones the entire time.

I mean look at them. All three little goobers on their phones.

And look at this little sweetie pie. On her phone. Texting I can only assume.

Don't they know what we used to go through? We carried around 20 lb phones that were larger than doberman pinschers. And even if we did want to call our friends, we couldn't really do so because no one else had a gigantic cell phone. We had to page them. And even if we did get a hold of a friend on a cell phone, we would have to walk up hill (both ways, I might add) to find any sort of reception. And you better believe that when we did actually reach a friend, we didn't spend our time with them talking on the phone to someone else.

And now, kids with their tiny cell phones and millions of friends and busy schedules and 4G networks and excellent reception and data plans...

Can't they just learn to talk to the friends they're with?

And yes, we currently house three play cell phones. One is unique and two are exactly the same.

Since we only have three cell phones and Stella is the baby, she had to use a pretend remote control. She didn't care. Just as long as she fit in.

Kids these days.

Do they know what he used to have to do to fit in?

I'm not really sure what the answer to that question is, but I'm sure it involves something uphill (both ways).

Sisters

2011-03-06T07:52:00.000-08:00

Chloe's finally decided that little sisters are good for something.

I Hate Allergies for Two Reasons

2011-03-04T14:57:00.000-08:00

And two reasons alone.

1. Jason's snoring.

2. This little girl.

The runny nose. Watery eyes. Breathing treatments. Croupy cough. Strident breathing. Benadryl. Tylenol. Steriods. No sleep. Barely eating. General miserableness.

It's a little heartbreaking.

And when the doctor said she might have to use an inhaler at some point.

My watery eyes began.

But he looked at me and said, "You do what you have to do. If she uses one, it will build character."

And I'm not really sure whose character he was referring to. Mine or hers. Probably mine.

But I know one thing that does not build my character. In fact, it makes me into a sleep-deprived crazy woman.

And that's point number one.

Needless to say, the Benadryl is flowing at our house.

Welcome back to Oklahoma.

Beef No More

2011-02-28T10:52:00.000-08:00

In response to last Friday's pathetic post...

Well, it's aparent that someone at Crest reads my blog. I'm assuming that it's someone high up in the company. Probably a man. Lots of men read my blog. They are my target audience after all.

Anyway, I know that the CEO of Crest reads my blog because he did not let a sleeping monkey lie. In fact, that same afternoon we drove by and the monkey was awake. Someone in our car let out a scream of joy, followed by her children letting out a scream or two. And I'm pretty sure that their screaming was an attempt to let me know that they are utterly embarrassed by me. I will continue to tell myself that they think I'm the coolest person they know.

To really send the embarrassment factor over the top, I made my husband stop to take a picture of us in front of the gorilla.

And here we are. In all of our glory.

In a grocery store parking lot.

Posing with an inflatable gorilla.

And I'll never tell you which girl was the happiest.

But it was me.

Crest--I Have a Beef with You

2011-02-25T12:11:00.001-08:00

Crest is my favorite all time store. Well not really. I love me some Trader Joe's. However, I live in Oklahoma and we don't have Trader Joe's. And I'm not bitter really.

But for this time in my life, Crest is awesome for two reasons, and two reasons alone. Rock bottom prices and double-seat grocery carts. And the lady who always give my daugthers slices of cheese. Okay, three reasons.

But Crest really sent me into a state of euphoria when they added a huge inflatable gorilla in their parking lot to advertise for their huge 2-day meat sale. And I guess monkeys have a lot of meat on them, but I don't see the correlation unless they're selling monkey meat. But anyway, I love monkeys, gorillas, apes, etc. And my daughters love monkeys, gorillas, apes, etc. So when I saw this gorilla, the kid in me freaked out. And then my kids freaked out. And everyday since we saw the gorilla, Chloe has done nothing but talk about it. Every single time we get in the car she says (and somewhat whimpers), "Monkey, Monkey. I see Monkey. Hold you. Kiss you. Monkey. Mooooooooooonkeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!"

My beef is this. The monkey is still in the parking lot, but it's no longer inflated. So it's just a blue (yes, the gorilla is blue) puddle. And it's a bit perplexing for an almost 2-year old. Today, I had to convince Chloe that the monkey was just sleeping. And so on our way into the store, she shushed everyone who made a peep. She would say, "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Monkey's sleeping."

And I don't know how long I can keep this explanation up. And I don't know how long I can see this puddle of a monkey without feeling sad that the gorilla's not up anymore. And I don't know if it's really okay for a 30-year old to love monkeys so much.

And I still don't know how a monkey and a meat-sale go together.

But I guess you have your reasons.

And I guess I'll have to get over it.

We sure did have fun while it lasted.

And Many More

2011-02-21T11:23:00.000-08:00

It is my sweet husband's birthday today. And because he is such a wonderful husband, and in celebration of another year with him, I gave him the most fantastic birthday present this morning.

Are you ready?

I gave him....

Drum roll, please....

A black eye.

That's right. I gave him a black eye this morning. I've been having crazy dreams lately and I had an especially crazy dream last night. For some insane reason, in the middle of my dream, I did a one-two-punch on his face in the wee hours of the morning. This particular punch can only be described as a swift punch to the face, followed by an elbow straight to the eye. And this punch was executed with quick and ninja-like movements. And while I'm impressed with my agility and speed, I feel so bad that it had to happen to husband. At least I could've saved it for a heroic moment, but instead, I saved it for my husband. On his birthday.

So here's to hoping that his birthday gets better. I mean, it has to get better. You can only go up after being hit by your wife while you lie defenseless in your sleep. And I hope that the present I have for him isn't a gift that starts with this joke. (And you know I love a bad joke)...

"Hey, Jason. You know what's worse than one black eye?, " while revving myself for a super-spectacular one-two-three punch.

In all seriousness. This guy deserves the world. He is an awesome husband. An awesome dad. And he works incredibly hard to support this family.

And in spite of my celestially abusive behavior, he's my man.

Happy Birthday, Jason! I love you.

Divide and Conquer

2011-02-19T10:49:00.001-08:00

I've been in a complete state of bliss for the past 24 hours...minus the sinus infection, fever and being rear-ended and the driver deciding to take off. Luckily for me, no damage. So while that might not seem blissful, this part of the story is.

I've been kid free for the past 24 hours.

Jason took Chloe to his brother's house and I shipped Stella to my mom's house.

And I would love to tell you that my children have missed me so much. That they begged and pleaded to come back home. That they absolutely cannot live without me and that they will need me to tuck them into bed every night until they are at least 35.

But...

They are having a ball. Chloe has had more fun than possible; spending time with my aunt, uncle and cousin. No home sickness. No asking for me. Just a lot of fun.

And when I dropped Stella off at my mom's house, I asked for a kiss before I left. She started waving her hands in front of her face and yelled, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" And then when I snuck one anyway, she pushed me and said "Bye bye" and clung to her YaYa.

While it makes me a little sad that they don't want me around for every single second, it makes me feel so proud to think that these little girls are so adaptable. That they enjoy different experiences. And that they feel confident enough to spend a little time away from me.

Makes me feel like I've done a little something right.

And as my alone time comes to an end, I feel refreshed and I just realized that I haven't cleaned up a single mess or washed a million sippy cups in the past 24 hours. And it feels good.

But I do have to say, that I can't wait for all of us to back together again. Even if it means cleaning up messes and washing sippy cups.

I'm Worse than a Man.

2011-02-11T14:51:00.000-08:00

I should have never reprimanded my husband on this blog. It has come back to bite me. And it has to be blamed on 5 cupcakes and Yo Gabba Gabba.

Here's what happened.

This afternoon, Chloe woke up a little early from her nap. So I brought her onto the couch and we each had a leftover birthday cupcake from last night. I ended up having about 4 more, which reminds me why I don't keep cake products laying around my house. It's a self control issue. Anyhow, Chloe has been reintroduced to Yo Gabba Gabba (thanks, Jason) and she insisted that we watched this show. While on the couch, I was pondering the appeal of this show to small children. And then I started thinking about how the writers of this show must be taking and or smoking some non-prescription drugs.

During this think-fest, I went into a carb coma and I did something I said I would never do.

I fell asleep.

And then I abruptly woke up to Chloe screaming millimeters from my face, "Wake up, Mama!"

I knew that I couldn't have been asleep very long. But then I looked around and was proven wrong on the estimated time-frame. The Picasso in Chloe came out. Pencil and crayon everywhere. I have a beautiful blue mural on my wall and our marble coffee table has pencil markings all over it. In fact, it looks like she held the pencil on the coffee table and ran perfect circles around it. About 15,o00 perfect circles around the coffee table.

So if you remember, I told a story about my husband falling asleep while watching Chloe and I felt it only appropriate to tell my own. And while my husband's punishment was public humiliation, my subsequent punishment is washing the walls...and public humiliation. But I guess I don't really have any shame anyway. Nice.

If you happen to see my husband, please don't tell him about this. I still need to be able to lie to him and say, "I would NEVER do that."

Happy Birthday, Stella Elizabeth!

2011-02-10T10:23:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday to my precious girl! I cannot believe that a year has already come and gone. It feels like just yesterday we were meeting her for the first time. I knew from the second I held her how special she was. And every day after that I have been reminded of the gift this little girl is to all of us.

When I used to imagine the kind of life I would have. Who I would marry. The children we would have. The journey we would be on. I never imagined it as wonderful as this. I wake up every day to the people I love most in my life.

Stella has expanded our hearts in ways that I don't even know if I could explain. She is unique. Hysterically funny. Sweet. Sassy. Passionate. Loving. Smart. Determined. But above all else, she was created by our heavenly Father. And I am sure of this because only He could create a person as special as Stella.

This past year has been one of the most rewarding and special years of my life. I thank God for giving me this beautiful little girl. I don't know what I ever did to deserve a daughter like her. But I must've done something right.

We love you so much, Stella Elizabeth!

Happy Birthday, little darling!

To see where it all started, click here.

The Day I Felt Like I Could Breathe

2011-02-09T14:17:00.001-08:00

One morning last week, the girls had just woken up and I was running around the house. Getting dressed. Cleaning up. Washing a few dishes. Checking my email. Picking up toys. Starting a load of laundry. You know, a typical morning for a mom. And all of the sudden it struck me. The girls were not screaming. They were not crying. I had yet to send them to different corners of the house to play without annoying each other. In fact, I didn't even know where they were.

I panicked for a second.

I ran into their room.

And there they were. Playing with each other. Quietly. Sweetly. Under their table. They looked up at me. Let me snap a few pictures. And then they kind of looked annoyed with me. Like "what is she doing here?" I didn't think that started until the age of 11 or 12 or 13.

I walked into my bedroom. Sat on my bed. And started crying. Not sad tears, but tears of joy. I felt in that moment that all of the hard work I had put in for the past year was finally paying off. The moment that I had been hoping for was finally here.

Things were finally easier.

And I took a breath. And I felt like I could finally breath again. And then I immediately began singing at the top of my lungs, "You find a point when-you will exhale-yea-yea..." Just a side note. I pretend to be Whitney Houston in my free time. And another side note. 'Waiting to Exhale' was my favorite movie in High School. I was, and still am, just that cool.

Anyhow, we're upon the precipice of Stella's first birthday. Last year, at this exact time, I fell on the ice. And I went to the hospital to have my baby. And now we're a year later. I'm in disbelief that we're here. That we made it. I honestly never thought we would survive.

But with a lot of faith. A growth of patience. Several million cups of coffee. Ear plugs. And the help of our precious family and friends. We've made it.

And things are great.

Shoop. Shoop. Shoop. Shoop. Be. Doop.

I'll Shovel/Let Me Out!

2011-02-03T09:32:00.000-08:00

I would love to tell you that I'm one of those people who loves it when a good snow storm hits. And I would love to tell you that when such a snow storm hits that results in everything being shut down, schools cancelled, cities closed; which also results in you being homebound for 3 straight days, that I am the type of person who thrives. Who loves staying indoors, breaking routine. Who uses the opportunity to watch tons of TV, movies, to stay in my pajamas, to organize every closet, to clean every corner of my house, to cook magnificent meals in which I thoroughly planned, and who does not let my children or the fact that we have spent every waking minute together, in our house, together for the past three days drive me crazy.

This is not me.

I organized our spices. That's as far as I got.

Don't get me wrong. I have enjoyed it. At least the first 24 hours were really fun. But I'm starting to feel the cabin fever. And I know that my girls are feeling it too.

So when Jason told me yesterday that we needed to shovel the driveway, I jumped at the chance. After finally convincing him that I needed to do it, I spent 30 blissful minutes outside working my booty... or more specifically, my arms off.

I thought about the winters we spent in Chicago. And how our last winter there was awful. And how I was pregnant. And how I had to shovel myself out of our parking lot every single morning before work. And how I was really, really, really pregnant. And how my husband spent most of that winter on his away rotations for medical school. And how with my hormonal and emotional mind frame, I thought he must have strategically planned it this way. And how I made him feel bad every day when I would call him and say, "I'm really, really pregnant, and I shoveled myself out of my parking lot this morning, and you're in TX where it's 80 degrees, and I think I kind of hate your guts right now."

And then I thought about the time that I went to my 4-Runner after work and the door handles were frozen. And how it was too cold to go back in and ask for help. So I rolled down the window to the back hatch door and climbed through the entire 4-Runner to get to the driver's seat. And how I was 7 months pregnant. And how crazy and funny that must've looked to anyone who saw a huge, pregnant lady climb through her car. And how I really can't repeat the phone conversation I had with Jason later on that night. It was not pretty.

After I shoveled the driveway, I took the girls out in the snow. And of course they loved it. And I loved it because I got to experience the snow through their eyes.

And it made me realize that if the reward for being homebound is seeing the joy and excitement in their eyes when they play in the snow, then it's totally worth it.

And then I went inside and reminded Jason about our last winter in Chicago. And how I was really pregnant. And how I had to shovel myself out every morning. And how he was gone for most of that horrible winter.

I don't think I'll ever let him live that one down.

But can you really blame me?

The Tiniest Ponytail You Ever Did See.

2011-02-01T09:54:00.000-08:00

Happy Snow Day.

It's All Too Familiar

2011-01-27T11:57:00.000-08:00

The other day I was getting Stella dressed, and when I put her shirt (18-month size, I might add) on her, I realized that the shirt was short on her. There she was- stomach hanging out. And it sent me reeling into my past.

The image of Stella sent me back specifically to my sophomore year of high school. You see, I am very long-waisted. I have always had trouble finding shirts that are long enough. And not being the type that likes to purposely bare my midriff, I have spent my entire life figuring out ways to wear shirts that are plenty long enough.

This particular day, I was called to the counselor's office. Being a perfectionist/goody-two shoes, this shook me to my core. What had I done? I couldn't even imagine. When I walked into her office, she said that she had seen me earlier in the hallway with my midriff showing. I was mortified. In no way was this intentional. I just hadn't perfected the "finding-shirts-that-are-plenty-long-enough" technique. It would still take me a couple of years. And to mortify me even more, she made me raise my arms above my head to prove the point that if I were to raise my hands above my head, my shirt should not reveal any skin. Easy for her to say with her midget-sized torso.

So she sent me home to change my shirt. I cried the whole way home and the whole back to school. I even think I put on one of my 6' 6'' brother's t-shirts just to ensure that that would never happen again. When she saw me later that day with an XXL shirt down to my knees, I think she felt bad. Which she should've, making me raise my hands above my embarrassed face and all.

So the other day when I saw my daughter, I saw myself. And I tried to make her raise her hands above her head to warn her that this could happen to her in the future. But she just laughed. And continued chewing on her pen. And I began lecturing her on good fashion, modesty and the beauty of extra-long tank tops from old navy.

And she just laughed.

Baby Jack has stolen my heart.

2011-01-25T12:31:00.001-08:00

My brother and beautiful sister-in-law, Matt and Jessi had their baby boy this past weekend. His name is Jackson Lee Whitehead and he was born on January 22nd after a really long labor. Jessi is a rockstar. He weighed 7 lbs, 3 oz. and was 20 1/4 inches long. And let me tell you, he is perfect! I mean, if I've ever seen a beautiful newborn, this one is it. He is sweet and perfect and new and has that newborn baby smell. I'm so happy that he is here and I cannot wait to be a part of his life. Here are a few pictures of precious, Baby Jack.

More pictures to come. And a couple of stories about how my sister and I are complete freaks.

Walking Stella

2011-01-21T11:23:00.000-08:00

As you can assume by my title, Stella is walking! To celebrate this monumental event and to celebrate the fact that I actually made a video with music, I present a list.

1. If you haven't already heard, I made a video with music. I decided that for the girls' birthdays, I would do a video with pictures, videos and music. So I practiced with this one. It took me an hour to figure out how to add music. And I'm sure that it will take me a few weeks of You Tube tutorials for me to learn how to do the whole thing. If anyone wants to offer me a free iMovie tutorial, I'll take you up on it.

2. My baby is walking. My BABY. I can still call her this for a couple of weeks.

3. I love how Chloe is so excited that her sister is walking. She is really happy every time she sees her walk. It's really cute. And it also makes it easier for Chloe to push her down. It's a new favorite game around our house.

4. I think it's great that when Stella falls down, she gets right back up. That's my girl.

5. I also think it's great that she only stops walking to pick up a blueberry off the floor and eat it. That's definitely my girl. I'll always break to eat.

6. I also think it's great that I'm only now realizing that she picked up food off the kitchen floor and ate it. And I didn't stop her. Because that's just how I roll.

7. I made a video with music.

8. I'm super annoying.

9. Sorry.

10. That's just how I roll.

Public Humiliation for the New Year

2011-01-20T07:49:00.000-08:00

How did God help me ring in the New Year? By publicly humiliating me of course. And really it wasn't His fault. It was my daughters' fault. Which I guess they're His fault. And my fault. And Jason's fault. It really is a vicious circle. Let us not get lost in the details.

The girls and I were at Crest one morning and they have carts with double seats in the front. And it's genius. It really is the only place I can take the girls by myself without a Valium. The girls looked a little something like this.

Except imagine them a few months older, with pants and long sleeves and jackets and hats and socks and shoes. And they weren't this happy. In fact, they were dreadful. Saying that they were grumpy and upset doesn't even begin to describe it. It was one of those rare shopping trips where I'm basically running through the aisles, foregoing my shopping list, throwing everything in the cart, saying a few Hail Mary's, and hiding my face in shame while others looked at us with disgust. We were "those people" and I was "that mother". It was awful.

We finally made it up to the registers and of course they were all full with lines that were miles long. So we waited and I hid, and I even considered abandoning them for a few seconds. But I decided I didn't have it in me. We finally made it up to the register. I threw everything onto that conveyer-belt thingy. While I was doing this I can hear the girls behind me in the cart laughing hysterically. Still in a hurry and not interested in what they were laughing about, I kept loading our groceries on that thingy. What is that called? Anyhow, I begin to hear the people behind us laughing. And the people behind them. And the people behind them. It was at this very moment that I knew my face was going to be extremely red in a matter of seconds.

So I finally turn around to this scene. And take this as a warning about snap button shirts. Chloe was turned to Stella, and she had completely unbuttoned her snap button shirt. Her poor little chest and tummy were bare to the world. But that's not what they were laughing about. Chloe was pulling Stella's little baby-fat-booby and Stella was tossing her head back while laughing hysterically. And as she continued to tickle her sister in this embarrassing way, everybody behind us continued to laugh. I have never been so embarrassed. To halt the tickling, I ran to the girls and buttoned up Stella's shirt. I never said a word to anyone. I never made eye contact. And I know my face was so red that I looked like I was about to burst.

Public humiliation count for 2011? 1. And I have a feeling it's only just begun.

Out with the Old, In with the New

2011-01-18T12:46:00.001-08:00

And I almost titled this post, "Out with the Old, In with the Shoe." Embarrassing? Cute? Cliche? I don't know. And I probably shouldn't admit that I almost titled this with that name, but I tend to spill the beans on this thing, so my apologies....for the faux title and the over-sharing.

I know what you're thinking. "Why does this lady have a picture of running shoes. And is that a couch? Did she put her shoes on the couch? Has she no shame?"

No.

I was just trying to take a quick picture and that's the best I could do.

I got a new pair of running shoes for Christmas. I know you're sooooooooo jealous. However, I was so excited. I have needed a new pair of running shoes for about two years. It was getting to the point where I felt like I was running on pancakes. My red shoes had just about had it. And who can blame them? In these shoes I have partly trained for a marathon. I was half-way through my training when I found out I was pregnant. And then I did a lot of slow running and a lot of walking. After I gave birth, I contemplated training for another marathon. Then I found out I was pregnant. Back to the slow running and walking. I have thought about 'contemplating' running another marathon, but I'm terrified I'll get pregnant just contemplating the idea. They have graced the streets of Chicago, Cleveland and my home in Oklahoma. They have seen me gain weight, lose weight and have helped keep me sane during this super transitional time in my life. I fell in love with running in these shoes. And as stupid as it sounds...I felt really sad about sending them to the trash can.

I guess it just made me think about where I'd been in those shoes. The lessons I learned and the person I've become. It was just me and Jason when I bought those shoes. And now I'm constantly referred to as Chloe and Stella's mom. Crazy. Transitions are usually never easy. Change, for me is disconcerting. And as I put on my new shoes, I couldn't help but think about the places they will take me.

I feel a sense of newness in this year. And while it has been busy and crazy, and I feel like I just now have time to sit down and reflect (a.k.a. write a ridiculously long blog post), I hope that I can continue to learn and grow and go where God wants me to be. As a control freak, I find it hard to let go and trust, but that's what I'm trying to do. I hope that I can transition from 'living away from home' to 'being back home' more seamlessly. And I hope that in my life that is forever surrounded by shoes and my love (and now my daughter's love) of them, that I can be someone that is proud to walk in them. And maybe someday, my daughter's would be proud to walk in them too.

And before I wrap this up, I should probably admit that my old pair of shoes are still sitting in my closet. They never made it to the trash can.

But they really should.

You know they stink to high heaven. It's worse than a High School football locker room.

The Race is On

2011-01-14T15:00:00.000-08:00

Someone took their first steps today.

She walked to me, from me. Try that on for size.

Not officially walking everywhere as of yet, but it's coming. I can feel it. She's got that crazy look in her eye.

And I'm lacing up my running shoes as we speak.

Oh who am I kidding. I've worn them all day anyway.

I seriously need to stop wearing my workout clothes all day.

And I need to start showering more regularly.

The End. Until next week, which I have deemed, "Getting Back into Blogging Week." Consider yourself warned.

Favorite Picture

2011-01-10T11:45:00.000-08:00

Here's my entry for Mandy's photo contest.

I think I've given myself an ulcer trying to decide my favorite picture of the year. Italy? Chloe? Stella? Shoes? Me, stuffing my face with pizza? I just don't know! So instead of driving myself crazy, I'm choosing the picture that I keep coming back to. And I know you're going to be shocked, but it's NOT A PICTURE OF MY DAUGHTERS. Let me repeat. NOT A PICTURE OF MY DAUGHTERS. See? I do have some self control.

But it's of my niece. So that's about as close as you can get. I'll call it, semi-self control.

So here it is. This was an improptu picture. And I can't take credit for it's beauty.

It was all this sweet, little girl.

I Heart Faces- Smile

2011-01-09T13:13:00.000-08:00

This is a picture of my precious niece, Addi. She has such a beautiful smile!

For more of the story read the newest post, above.

Happy & Merry & Bright

2010-12-25T10:21:00.001-08:00

This Christmas finds us back in Oklahoma. This is the first Christmas for our youngest, the second for our oldest, and I'm officially without a bun in the oven. Thank goodness. For the past two Christmases I've been on the verge of popping.

These two have been having a fantastic Christmas.

This one has had more fun playing with her new cell phone, keys, remote, piano and microphone...all in her new tent.

And this one is beyond Tinkerbell-ed out.

And now the babes are napping, I'm still in my pajamas and glasses, Jason's on his third viewing of A Chistmas Story, and things are merry and bright.

We hope that all of you have a wonderful Christmas and that you are surrounded by those you love, and those who love you.

Happy and Merry Christmas- Love the Lashleys

Photography by the fabulous and ever-patient, Mandy Stansberry.

A Simple Email

2010-12-22T11:38:00.000-08:00

I received an email yesterday from a mom with two boys from a different part of the country. The oldest is 21 months and the youngest is 9 months. Just one week shy of being exactly a year apart. She told me that reading my blog was like looking at her life...and then I read her blog and said it was like looking at my life.

I guess my point is this. It's always nice to know that somebody out there is going through the same thing you are...the same struggles, the same triumphs, the same day-to-day life and routine as you. And sometimes I'm so consumed with my life, that I forget to look "out". I have to thank this mom for reaching out to me. Because it honestly feels like some sort of lifeline.

Most of the people I know who have had children very close together, have kids that are grown. And they just pat me on the shoulder, laugh and tell me that I'll survive.

Glad to know that there's someone out there surviving right along with me.

If you don't think this is really sweet

2010-12-21T10:50:00.000-08:00

Then you probably need to search for your soul somewhere. You probably lost it when you struck that deal with Satan.

Tinkerbell is the deal around our house. Chloe, who does not have the patience for any sort of TV or movies, could probably watch 24 hours of Tinkerbell or "Bell" as she calls it. She would only break to drink some milk and terrorize her sister.

When she's not watching one of our three Tinkebell movies, she's coloring in her Tinkerbell coloring book, talking to Bell on the phone, pretending to fly like Bell, or saying "Bell, Bell, Bell" until I turn the movie on.

In one of her coloring books she found a sticker of Tinkerbell. It's a small sticker and fits nicely on her hand. She carried around that sticker for two days. She would sing to it, talk to it and kiss it non-stop. Probably one of the cutest things I've ever seen.

She even loved Bell so much that she ripped her bottom half off.

But sometimes that's just what happens in the name of love.

And don't worry. She won't have to carry around a pathetic little sticker for long. I have it on good authority that Santa is bringing her a Tinkerbell doll for Christmas.

All She Wants for Christmas

2010-12-20T14:09:00.001-08:00

She just wants her two front teeth, of course. And by the looks of things, I have a feeling Santa might bring her another by this weekend.

Which means that he'll bring a me a feverish and runny-nosed baby. Thanks a lot Santa.

A Little Ways Back: Part Two

2010-12-17T11:47:00.000-08:00

There's a part two on my blog. This is a miracle.

Sometimes I surprise myself.

Here are a few pics of Chloe. I warned you that they were all of my girls.

You're Welcome.

2010-12-17T06:14:00.001-08:00

I just want to let all of you know that I have showered every single day this week.

Showering hasn't occurred at this frequency in a really long time.

And... you're welcome.

A Little Ways Back: Part One

2010-12-16T14:09:00.000-08:00

One of my pre-New Year's resolutions is to clean out some old pictures I have on my camera. And by "some", I mean that I have a few hundred pictures that need to be downloaded, edited and deleted. And the pictures are mainly of my girls. So it's really cute, but probably considered annoying to anyone who did not carry and birth these two girls. Anyhow, so that I don't have to go through this process alone, I thought I'd drag you along with me. I promise I won't bore you too much. Only three posts consisting a of a hundred pictures each. I promise. That's it. Aren't I editing myself so well?

And just so you don't get too scared and ignore my blog completely, let me tell you about my blogging history. If I start a series of posts and use "Part One" in the title, there is usually never a "Part Two" or "Part Three". I'm just flaky like that.

So I bring you part one of the "series".

The first set of pictures are from this summer, when we first moved into our house in OK. I think these pictures are so funny because....well....I just think they're funny. So here you go.