6 Months And A Turkey Stand-Off

First up: Isla. 6 months. Half a year! Check out this cutie:

The fact that she has survived being around Finn all day is an honest to goodness miracle.

Seriously.

He likes to push her over and yell, “Roll Isla!”

Its terrible. Kinda funny. Mostly terrible.

We blame him for the fact that she’s already crawling at 6 months.

Getting herself anywhere with all that chub is a modern miracle, I tell you!

So yes, the standing theory over here is that she had to start crawling early to get away from him. 

She’s also sitting up all on her own, no problem. She can reach and grab things without falling over and she can sit up from a crawling position.

She's an overachiever, this one.

Other Fun Stuff: She likes to steal Finn's spoon while he's eating breakfast and suck the yogurt off (I might even put their chairs close together to facilitate this).

Basically, Isla is totally happy and lovin' life.

As for the rest of the la famille Rebarchik?

Finn is still loud and crazy. And now, instead of saying ‘No’ he yells, “NOT funny!” But here’s the thing, Finn...it is funny. 

His protests are usually hilarious and about something totally ridiculous. Like wanting to play with his trains in Isla’s crib. It makes no sense...

Two year olds are way too dramatic. Its a fact.

And Luke? He is currently trying to convince me to let him get a turkey for Thanksgiving. I haaaaate Thanksgiving. So American. So gluttonous. Mostly, I don't particularly want to cook a turkey for 1400 hours.

Update: We bought a turkey. Damn.

And me? I’m still working and whatever...and the best update on my life ever?? I’ve lost all my Isla-weight (40 pounds!)...which means I weigh LESS than I did before I had kids.

Wham bam, thank you m’am.

Where I Fall on My Face...Like Always.

I did it.

I ran my first race in six years.

That’s basically a lifetime. Especially when you consider the kids, marriage, house, and ensuing mental breakdown that comes when I take time to realize all that happened in 6 years and all before I turned 25.

This is why I act like such an old lady. It’s because I feel like I should be 85 years old right now.

I need to go quilt to cope with all this…

But really, I jest. It was a total blast. It was a 9 mile trail run and it was hilly. I kept thinking, “Well, this will all level out eventually. I probably won’t die”…

…1 million feet of climbing later…

“I’m certainly going to die.”

And the biggest problem that comes with running up an honest-to-goodness mountain? Having to go down the freaking thing.

I’m notoriously bad at running downhill…imagine the opposite of a mountain goat. Or a mountain goat with no legs.

Something like that. Either way there is a hell of a lot of swearing involved.

So as I’m clumsily trouncing my way down, my mom (who patiently waited for me at the top and bottom of every hill. She’s a saint. A really fast saint.) tells me to watch out for a rock.  So I watch that rock as I trip over it and slide down the hill, on my face. My head missed a tree by like, an inch.

It was epic. In a really embarrassing kind of way.

I’m still enamored with the bruises I got as a result. Those bad boys look ferocious.  

Anyway, we finished in a slightly embarrassing time of 1:20. My madre mentioned off-hand that she probably could have beaten someone who finished 10 minutes ahead of us…so that’s cool minus the part where I couldn’t run any faster.

(I admire her speed and the fact that she obviously has no feeling in her legs...)

In any case, we had fun and it gave me an excuse to slack off running for a couple of days afterward. Only problem now is that I can’t stop slacking off…

I could honestly not run for a week and just sit and eat potato chips all day, that’s the kind of mood I’ve been in all week. Somebody save me from myself.

I'm in pink (not the blonde one. duh.). I thought bright colors would minimize my chances of getting shot by a deer hunter. Because when I don't wear pink I look a lot like a deer, I'm sure. Photo from the peeps at Cascadia Trails 

My Heart Grew Two Sizes Tonight...

Luke calls me the Halloween grinch.

Every year I complain like the crotchety old lady I am about loud kids, stupid costumes and having to stay up past 9pm to give out candy to teenagers who are way too old to be trick-or-treating.

If I ever dressed up (which I won't ever. Am I older than 16? Yes. Then I'm too old to dress up) I'd totally don the green fur and snarl...Halloween grinch, indeed.

It was a sad state of affairs in any case.

And while I still think kids are too loud and I don't like the houses with the creepy music and people outside, Halloween totally grew on me this year. And why?

Because this year I paraded my costumed kids around our neighborhood like it was going out of style. I was into it in a big way, guys. I hardly recognized myself.

There is something so freaking adorable about a kid figuring out that they can knock on strangers' doors and get candy (Any other day that is totally not legit. Finn, don't do it...you know he's going to try it tomorrow, too).

And once he figured out what was up Finn was dragging us to all the house as quick as those lil' legs would go.

They get so amped up about it, you can't help but share the enthusiasm. Plus, y'all know I'm going to be sneaking his candy come night fall. Perks of being a parent. Its my privilege.

I feel no guilt about this.

(Luke has just informed me that it is not my privilege. His parents (obviously) didn't know what they were doing when it came to Halloween. Six boys?! That's a jackpot, right there!)

As for costumes, I sewed some yellow fabric strips onto Finn's only plaid shirt. Voila! Scarecrow. He thought it was totally groovy.

And Isla? She wore Finn's lion hat from years ago and made the least scary lion ever. Rawr.

Luke would have made a great Dorothy but alas, he refused.

His costume looked a lot better when he was struttin' his stuff...

Halloween? Meh. It's alright, I guess...

I Didn't Even Rent a Car!

It’s like, the older you get, the lamer and more boring your birthday is supposed to be. And as much as I try and fight that with every fiber of my being, it seems that it can’t be avoided.

Yep, I turned 25 and there was nary a celebration to be had that day. I was finally at car-renting age! Didn’t anyone care?!

Finn even went so far as to deny that I was even having a birthday when I told him. As if to say, ‘Don’t be ridiculous…moms don’t have birthdays. As we all know, they are clearly not actually people.’

Thanks, dude.

Sure we had cake at my mom’s place the weekend before, but it’s just not the same as having a huge blowout kind of party on the actual day of your birth…if you hint a touch of sadness in my voice…well, you are correct. I was sad about it. I’m an avid birthday celebrator, so this was a big effing deal, guys.

But guess what? I don’t even care (all that much) because they say your birthday is what you make it (someone says that, right?)…well, I made my birthday day a birthday week.

That’s right. Hardcore. Haters gonna hate, but I did it anyway.

That means shopping for myself (and a lot of shopping for the kiddos. It happens).  All  week.

And dinner with my ah-mazing friends in SLC…which meant, yeah, I got out of the house for an entire night. Look at me, guys, getting all crazy in my old age! Living it up over here!

(I was back home by 930pm, just to keep the crazy at a manageable level)

Then there’s Rubio’s with Nick (it’s his birthday too, after all). And let’s face it…probably more shopping after that.

Because if you’re going to have a birthday, people...you gotta do it right. 

Twins = birthday enthusiasts since day one.

Five Months!

 Whaaaaat?! Math alert: That's almost half a year!

And yeah, Isla's lovin' it :

 Ummm, adorable, no? I love me some baby jeggings let me just tell you right now. And a cardigan? Someone is pushing their style onto their child (Hint: its me).

Ah, this little cutie pie is doing fantastic. She weighed in at 15(!) pounds during her 4 month check-up...but she was also 25 inches long so she's tall, too. Which kind of makes up for it, right?!

But seriously, she skipped all 6 month and most 9 month clothes and is wearing 12 month size clothes. No joke. I think Target is runnin' their toddler clothes a bit small though, to tell you the truth.

But it works out because the cuter clothes are all in the toddler section anyway...Isla knows whats up. We've got this down.

Besides clothes though, she is growing up to be a super happy lil' lady. She smiles at everyone, laughs at everything, she sits up almost on her own, loves being tickled, loves baths and is Finn's best friend...I'm not sure if she feels the same way about him though, yet :)

She's still working on figuring out solid food as of right now. As soon as the spoon goes in her mouth so do her hands...which is not only gross and messy but also totally counter productive because she pulls all the food out. So gross. We've tried everything short of tying her chubby little arms down, but to no avail.

And if we could only get her to sleeeeeeeep at night, life would be muy perfecto.

Where I Re-enter Society For A While...

That's right folks, I'm back at work. Walking around like I own the place.

Ok, not really. I kind of slink in and out. See, the office I work in is full of girls who are all single and living together and I don't ummmm, "fit in".

Which, let me be perfectly honest with you, is so very ok with me. I thought raising a two-year old was drama-rific, but lo, I forgot about the strife and miseries of dating, gossip and being bitchy to other girls behind their backs.

(Ok, I'm still bitchy to other girls behind their backs but this is more a secret pasttime of mine.)

Yeah, these girls are all about that in a big way. Its entertaining.

But really, I'm having a bueno time. I'm working for the same place I did before I had Finn, so I didn't have to go through any of that awkward figuring-out-how-everything-works-phase. But they did move to a new building so finding the bathroom the first day was a fun adventure!

And thank goodness I didn't have to go through an interview. I can't think of anything more awkward than doing an interview when you've done nothing but hang around the toddler crew for two years straight.

I was, therefore, able to avoid gems such as:

"What have you been doing the past two years between jobs?" (Um, wiping butts mostly.)

"What sets you apart from everyone else?" (I'm probably the only one here wearing a nursing bra?)

and of course:

"What pay scale are you expecting?" (Do I have to change your diaper? No? OK, then I'll do it for free.)

Ah yes, re-entering society is a beautiful thing. And while I miss my little ones like crazy, I do feel more human (and less robot-diaper-changer) than I have in quite a while. And thanks to my madre, I get a picture of Isla's outfit everyday...because she knows what's important to me. Duh.

Plus, its only for 4 hours a day and (Finn naps for 2 of those hours), thus assuaging my guilt somewhat for getting a job I don't particularly need but still enjoy.

Good choice of outfit, Mom...

In other news, Finn is basically potty trained (high fives all around!), Isla is adorable, and I'm training for a 15k in two weeks and I feel like I'm in good shape but will probably have reality slap me in the face come race day when I have to face the fact that my mom can (and will!) beat the pants off me.

Also, I'm currently making this quilt for Finn (the last one I made him turned out crappily...): Its a beast and I'm only 8 rows into it:





Where We All Sit Still For A Quarter Of A Second...

Before I go into my picture-related post let me just tell you that today we were in Joann's and Finn was walking around and two girls walked by and he kept following them going, "Hiiiii" until they turned around and said hi to him.

Playaaaaa. My kid's got killer moves with the ladies.

Onto pictures (boooooring):
Problem #1 while trying to take pictures of la famille is that Finn loves Nick (my brother extraordinaire).

Nick takes our pictures.

Finn always shows off his trouble-making skills for Nick because Nick thinks its hilarious. Finn is ever the comedian.

Problem identified.

Problem not solved, though.

Whatevs, we got some decent ones and I have officially given up my desire for that picture of all of us smiling angelically at the camera with perfect hair (or hair at all in Isla's case) and all that.  My little spit-fire isn't going to be sitting still for a while. I've faced facts. I'm letting go, I swear...

 This is how Luke feels about the whole situation...

My pretty girl :)

Close enough!
 

Finn kissing Isla :)

And he's off!

 Come on, Isla! We were so damn close!!
 

...until Christmas.

Up next: I made both the kiddo's amazing quilts after deciding to really embrace my inner old-lady. Er Mer Gerd...they look frantastic. Big pat on the back right here.