Little Lucy

 

Just wanted to share what I worked on last week.  And yes, she gave me permission. 

Grateful

My mom rocks. I am grateful for her.

First off, she’s beautiful.  And did I mention she’s had eleven kids?  For real.  But that’s not everything.

If one can even believe it, I was a brat as a teenager.  A gigantic, snotty brat.  I know right?  Shocking.  And unfortunately the snootiness was mostly directed toward my mother.  I don’t know how she managed not to beat the crap out of me because I surely deserved it. But as I grew older and began to realize that the world does not indeed revolve around me I started to get it.  My mom is the best!

She is a great friend.  She knows when to listen and when to give advice.  She is a fabulous grandmother.  She literally will drop everything to help me with my girls, even if she had just been watching them the entire day before.  I try my best not to abuse this because I know she will not say no.  Ever. 

Refuge. My parents’ home is always open to my family.   And we are there often, enjoying the yard, the toys, the company.  It’s a place where I feel safe and I’m grateful I feel so comfortable coming and going as I please.

My mom’s garden.  Because my own home is severely lacking in outdoor space I become giddy at the thought of fresh tomatoes from her garden every summer.  Combined with the fact that my knowledge in cultivating is also severely lacking, I am doubly grateful.

Grow baby, grow!

 

This dude.  I’m not sure how much I’m allowed to gush over him in such a public fashion so I’ll just say I really only like him for his looks.

This cake.  Made from the skilled hands of my mother.  It contains parsnips, apples, carrots and zucchini, as well as lots of other yummy ingredients.  You’d think it tastes veggie-ish but noooo, it’s so moist and delicious.  And did I mention the frosting is apple cider cinnamon cream cheese?  Yeah, it’s as fantastic as it sounds.   I’d share the recipe but alas I have it not.  Another day folks.

And of course…

Yes I’m grateful for Miss M too but I have taken about 9,000 pictures of her in the past week or so and quite frankly she is dunzo.  But hey, guess what?  Binky is gone for good.  I held true to my word.  Instead she has taken to other measures for comforting.  Such as emptying every.single. article of clothing out of her and her sister’s drawers, smearing toothpaste on the mirror, slathering herself, her hair and the chair in her room in lotion, making 36.5 wardrobe changes, dumping out the water bottles or sitting in the toilet.  No not ON the toilet. IN the toilet.  Yes, inside the stupid toilet or as Diva shouted, “Mommy! She’s sitting criss-cross applesauce in the toilet!”  All this after we have put them to bed for the night. 

But sure, I’m grateful. 

It’s a problem…

        

 

…I take entirely too many pictures. 

But oh….isn’t she cute?

Over.It.

 

   

Today I came down with a wicked migraine.  I get them only about once a year.  If that.  But I know it’s coming a mile away. My vision is obstructed by some wackadoo blurry spot, which gradually gets larger until is spreads across my entire eye.  And as soon as it goes away, the throbbing and nausea begins.  But if I pop as many Motrin as is legally allowed as soon as my vision starts to blur and I lie down in a dark, quiet place and stay completely still for the next three hours, I can drastically reduce the pain.  Holy longest sentence ever.

Unfortunately for Miss Munchkin, the onset of my headache happened to coincide with the onset of her begging mercilessly for her damn binky.  It.was.relentless.  So I made up my mind right then and there that I would never…EVER hear the word “binky” coming from her mouth.  Ever. again.

No. I didn’t put duct tape over her lips.  Which I seriously considered.  I told her, straight up that her binky was gone and never coming back.  True story.

So tonight I put her to bed.  And she didn’t ask for it.  At all. 

Yeah, that’s what’s up. I’m the boss. Don’t mess with me and my migraines.

Mad daps to my sister Cindy, who immediately came over and picked up my girls.  And to my Mom who helped watch them over several hours.  Having family nearby is one of the greatest blessings.  Ever!

P.S. Just found a video that describes these migraines to a T.  Pretty crazy!  Funny how just seeing them describe the visual aura makes me feel nauseated again.  Blech. 

 

Women’s Day

Technically it’s Mother’s Day.  But I tend to think that is a tad bit exclusive.  So I am including women everywhere.  That’s how I roll.  My heart just aches for those women who so badly want to have a child and just can’t. On some teeny teeny tiny, miniscule, microscopic level, I can understand.  So to those women I say, “Happy Mother’s Day.” You are a mother in your own right.  You too deserve flowers, treats, cards, hugs and thank you’s.  You deserve it.

Anyway.  How grateful I am for these two princesses in my life.  How blessed I am with countless examples of what it means to be a truly amazing “mother.”  My sisters, my sisters in-law, my mother and mother in-law and so many of my friends who inspire me every single day.  Because really, life is not about how much money you have, how many Facebook friends you acquire, how big or how clean your house is, how many cars you own, whether or not you have an iPhone, how many cable T.V. channels you have access to, how many books you’ve read, how fashion forward you are, how the Lakers got swept this season, how much your roots have grown in, how hairy your eyebrows are, the last time you had a pedicure, the last time you showered, how white your legs are, how the princess dresses in your home seem to be mating and multiplying at a rather alarming rate, how big your laundry pile is, how much make up you have on, how much chocolate you’ve eaten or even how much you can’t stand that Tamara chick on Real Housewives of Orange County.

It’s just not about any of that.  Not even close.

It’s about how wonderful my husband is and how much I love to be around him.  It’s about the hugs and kisses from my girls.  It’s about friendships and family.  It’s about sharing the Gospel.  It’s about examples and service.  It’s about LOVE. 

And today in church as we sang the hymn, “O My Father” and thinking how strange we would sing that on Mother’s day, I began to really read the lyrics.  And I understood:

O my Father, thou that dwellest
In the high and glorious place,
When shall I regain thy presence
And again behold thy face?
In thy holy habitation,
Did my spirit once reside?
In my first primeval childhood
Was I nurtured near thy side?

For a wise and glorious purpose
Thou hast placed me here on earth
And withheld the recollection
Of my former friends and birth;
Yet oft times a secret something
Whispered, "You're a stranger here,"
And I felt that I had wandered
From a more exalted sphere.

I had learned to call thee Father,
Thru thy Spirit from on high,
But, until the key of knowledge
Was restored, I knew not why.
In the heav'ns are parents single?
No, the thought makes reason stare!
Truth is reason; truth eternal
Tells me I've a mother there.

When I leave this frail existence,
When I lay this mortal by,
Father, Mother, may I meet you
In your royal courts on high?
Then, at length, when I've completed
All you sent me forth to do,
With your mutual approbation
Let me come and dwell with you.

I have no doubts we have a Heavenly Mother awaiting our return.  How She longs for us to choose the right path in life.  How She is in the beauty around us, the colors of the earth, the smells of the seasons and the innocence of young children. 

And I can’t wait to be with Her and Him again.

And just because I like to keep it real:

Response to Mommy taking away her chocolate.

 

Response to Mommy telling her not eat snacks before dinner.

Such is motherhood.

 

Babies babies

everywhere. 

It seems as if lately I’ve been surrounded by them.  And I love every.single.minute of it.

This past week has been nutso.  Every day packed with something.  Photographing a birth one night, flying out to Utah the next, driving back to CA from Utah, working in Diva’s classroom, editing photos, making slideshows,   Phew.

Photographing a birth was amazing.  I think I’m hooked.  Here are just a couple photos.

This little princess was born to two amazing parents and two adorable older brothers who couldn’t contain their excitement to meet their new baby sister.

I then jet-setted on up to Utah to help my younger sis drive her car back to CA and was able to squeeze in time with my oh-so-scrumptious little nephew.  Unfortunately he is so utterly in love with his mom and dad (well that’s not the unfortunate part) that he has a hard time with strange faces.  So I could only get so close before he burst into tears because I invaded his personal space.  Sadness.

  

I mean seriously how could anyone not want to snuggle and kiss that adorable face?  Sigh.

My wonderful, beautiful cousin came by when I was in Utah and brought her equally adorable little boy. 

P.S. My brother and his wife have an A-MAZE-ING view right out their front door.  Utah has at least one good thing going for it: breathtaking mountains.  oh now all you Utah people, don’t get all huffy.  I’m only kidding.  Maybe.

Lastly, I went on over to a friend’s house today and snuggled her one month-old while she tended to her other sick child.  Yummy babies.

So as you can see, I’ve been busy.  But it’s cool.  Because I’ve been busy with babies.  And that’s the best kind.

Backyard Fun

This post has nothing to do with the killing of Osama Bin Laden. Just wanted to make that clear.

We spent the evening in Nee Nee and Papa’s backyard.  We binged on sugar roasted s’mores and enjoyed the glorious weather.  It has been annoyingly windy for the past few days and it eventually died down this afternoon.  I loathe the wind.  It ruins a perfectly beautiful day.

Commence picture vomit.

          

Nee Nee and Papa’s house is right behind the local high school’s upper field.  So you just open a gate and their backyard is instantly expanded.  And how.  It’s one of our favorite hang outs on warm evenings. 

         

Yes that is indeed s’more crap all over Munchkin’s face and marshallow whatever on Diva’s forehead.  Not gonna lie, I probably had some of my face as well.  Sue me.