Things I Learned in Chicago...

...first thing, kids don't even care that you're gone when they've got a grandma as stellar as theirs running the ship.

I don't know whether to be insulted or relieved (hint: relieved).

Anyway, let's get serious and get a numerical list going, shall we?

1. I didn't miss my kids so much as I was pretty bummed that they were missing out on new things. I want them to experience life, man. And trust me, they ain't experiencing much in Springville, UT.

2. I used to pride myself on being a big city kind of person. But as soon as we hit downtown I felt like I was breaking Amish. I had no idea where to go or how to get there.

3. Seriously. I saw a Chili's and was like, 'Can we just go there?'

4. We did not go there. We had legit Chicago pizza and it imbibed me with some city spirit. After that, I owned that city.

5. A hotel down the street from us was (seriously) hosting a leather daddy convention (seriously). Ass-less chaps everywhere. It was fantastic.

6. The first night out felt like a first date all over again. Complete with awkward who-are-you-again?-ness. I almost asked if he wanted to go Dutch on the bill.

7. After the whole weekend (even at the wedding we went to), we didn't get ONE picture of us together.

8. Getting back from vacation is like being hit by a reality brick right in your forehead. Room service? Yeah, right you crazy dreamer... I AM room service.

9. And with no further interruption, pictures of us (separately) being fab:

Luke at Giordano's...

3 feet away at Giordano's...

Candid shot! (I never have any idea what's going on, anyway)...

30 seconds later...seriously, couldn't we just have asked someone to take a picture of both of us?!

We're in the same frame! Success! This was the night I ate so many burgers I wanted (and still want) to die.

Isla's First Birthday! Also, I'm on a Plane!

I am currently writing this while flying over the great plains of somewhere flat in the U.S of A. How cool is that?

Not as cool as Isla’s first birthday, that’s how cool!

I’m in an airplane.

Anyway, Isla’s birthday.

Her party was going to be at the park but it got rained out so we rolled with it and threw a killer bash at our house.

It was 10am and I was pumping kids full of sugar left and right. A total blast (for them). We had a decorate-your-own cookie station, a HUGE cake (thanks again to une boulangere Amanda :), and cupcakes.

Diabetes.

I know it is just coincidence but Finn hasn’t taken a nap since that day and I think it is because his blood is like, 10% pure sugar now.

(Which ultimately means that the party was a success)

Now, on to the birthday girl herself. Isla is fantastic. Sleeping pretty good, walking and running like a maniac and talking so much gibberish it’ll make your heart melt.

That’s all fine and everything. I’m proud, I am…Plus! Look at that face!

But yesterday I told Finn we were leaving the park and he said, “but Mom! I just hanging out, being groovy!”

I made him repeat it, lest my ears deceived me (They did not deceive me).

I obviously say that way too much… in any case, that right there. It was like I knew I’d made it as a mother.

He also yelled ‘dammit!’ at the ipad, too…something I also take credit for but am not as proud of…maybe just a little though, is that weird? We’ll leave that for another day……….

Then later in the car I turned on The Format and he asked to listen to the new Daft Punk instead. No joke. That kid is going places.

And now Luke and I are heading to Chicago to live it up for three days and I’ve already gone into the bathroom twice to cry because I miss my kiddos and I really wish they were here.

My life. It will never be not complicated. Fact. 

Jam Packed. Jam Not Included.

It's amazing how much blogging you can get done when you're procrastinating a paper. It's pure nostalgia, really.  And I thought I'd come a long way from my procrastinate-by-any-means-possible days. 

But hey, there you go. I'll never change. You're welcome.

I feel like it has been some time since A. I've bombarded you with a list and; B. I've talked about those kids that live around here. So let's kill two figurative birds with one figurative stone (or go kill some birds with some stones if that's your bag. It's your business, you weirdo)!

1. It is Isla's birthday in 1.5 weeks and I am just. so. excited. Oh, I love birthdays. A little girl's first birthday? Well people, I'm in heaven. Pastels! Balloons! Bring it on.

2. She's also started walking like a crazy little drunk person. (this happened a while ago but like I said, it's been some time since I've blogged productively). Anywho, she laughs and talks while she walks and it really adds to the crazy little drunk persona. 

3. Her hair is getting so long and curly. It's gorgeous. 

4. Finn. Oh, Finn. Terror of terrors. Craziest of crazies. He got out of bed during his nap today and climbed in our bed and fell asleep (I was downstairs during all this). And then he thought he'd pull a fast one and did it again tonight and I was like, "Ummm. Nope".

5. He started gymnastics and it is the love of his life. When he pretends to be 'running away' (with a suitcase and everything) and I ask where he's going he says, "gymnastics!". And when I ask if Isla and I can come he says, "Yes!" so I guess he needs to work on his running away technique...

6. He gets his garbage truck and says, "I'm taking you away!" He's a sweet kid, I swear.

7. I just got an iPad and he's really into it. The other day I actually got stuff done because I didn't have to play referee between him and his sister since he was gloriously distracted. In other news, I feel like I no longer have an iPad. Best. And. Worst. Mom. Ever.

 8. I figured out how to get pictures on my blog again! Apparently I wasn't being patient enough...patient. I don't even know what that word means, basically.

9. Here are some pictures!:

Right?!

My brother is uber handsome, ja? Also, polka dot shorts? All day every day.

Contrary to (his) popular belief, this is definitely not his bed.

It's possible that I'm wearing one of Isla's headbands...and that I do it with much frequency. We even have matching ones.

 Jussi and her favorite (kind of gross) bear that she takes on walks with her. And our house!

Happy Mother's Day to me! And my mom...and everyone else...

Grad School: A Comprehensive Introduction

Here is how my life works:

Before the first day of school: "Man, I'm so tired of being just a mom. I could have been somebody! I could have been a contender!...and besides being awesome at quoting On The Waterfront I'm also a little tired of these kids hanging off me all day. School is going to be the bestest."

After the first day of school (after I pick my brain off the effing floor): "I miss my kids. Oh, and I think maybe that's all I'm cut out for."

Take notes, people, because I just revealed how my brain works. Simple as that.

Those kids...always complicating things for me.

But alas, here I am, back at school. And I'm taking two beastly theory classes make me say and think things such as:

"Ummmmm"
"Uuuhhhh"
"Derrrrrrr"

And so on and so forth...

But really, all of these classes are super time consuming...like, I have to read books that are not of my choosing during times where I would rather be watching TV.

I know, right? Who thought grad school would be like that.

And yet, sadly, it is still coming as a total shock to my leisure-lovin' nighttime routine.

But hey! I'm looking fab at the same time! Win!

[As of right now, my photo uploader ain't workin' but Luke made me take a first-day-of-school picture...just imagine me looking fabulous. Done]

Also, coming up in this blog of mine: Isla is turning ONE in two weeks! And she is walking everywhere!!! Finn is a gymnastics super star! He also tells me that he wants to take me away in a garbage truck sooooooo...that's nice.

Look forward to it, people. Because it is happening.

My Knife Fight...

... with a gang of robbers. By which I mean a potato.

Annnyway, I was prepping some sweet potatoes for this tasty soup I was going to make, and as Luke has pointed out countless times, my veggie cutting technique needs a helluvalot of practice.

Case in point: This time when I sliced my thumb nearly all the way through. 'This time' meaning yesterday.

As soon as I saw how deep it was I RAN out of the room yelling for Luke and I believe the conversation went a lot like this:

"Luke, I've cut my thumb and I'm pretty sure I need stitches but I cannot look at it. Please don't make me look at. I seriously cannot look at it. I'm going to die." Dramatic.

So he guided me over to the sink and washed it off and it was at this point that my vision went a lot a bit white and the blood in my head sort of went away. But I did NOT pass out.

That's 1 for the knife. And 1 for me. Bam.

All the while Finn thought the blood that had gotten everywhere was pretty cool and I hazily remember him touching it. But soon we were in the car and then at the instacare place and guess who happens to walk in right after me?

That's right! A guy who cut his thumb with A CHAIN SAW.

Way to upstage me, jerk.

And yadda yadda yadda, I got some pretty manly stitches and the doctor was super nice (he said I seemed like a pretty good mom. Damn straight.) and we all got to go to Wendy's for dinner and everyone rejoiced because they didn't have to eat my healthy soup.

And hopefully you haven't just eaten dinner because here is the damage:

That shit is gnarly. 

There is literally, no other way to put it.

And as an update the thumb is still attached but it hurts because Isla keeps finding the bandage and squeezing it. Rude. And Nick's not even here to help. Rude-r. I'm also pretty excited about the scar that is going come of this bad boy.

Before and After: Landscape Edition

We're the DIY Warriors over at this house. Are you ready for it? You better be, because here it is.

Before:

Seriously, this is pretty effing close to what it looked like.

After:

Right?! Amazing (and look at that fine lookin' dog).

When we moved in, the back part of the fence had a half built wall going across at, and about 30 metric tons of gravel just hanging out and being groovy. There was also pile of bricks in the corner that went half way up the fence.

So that was cool.

The back corner had no grass whatsoever, and a huge pile of salt in the middle of it. 

Salt. About 10 gallons of it. Yep.

So we slowly got rid of all that crazy business, put grass seed down and then mulched the hell out of the back part and (as you can see) planted a beautiful array of shubbery.

Shrubbery. Like a boss.

I threw in two Japanese Maples and fellas, we've got ourselves a garden.

Right now I'm riding on that "We Did It!" high, but come talk to me in a week when I'm weeding  for two hours a day.

And while we're at it, here's the front of the house. We redid a lot of the garden there, too but its not as noticeable. We also have a little corner garden in the front that I can never get in the frame that I also did a lot of work on. 

But since I'm toooooo lazy to take a better picture, it's my secret garden. Yep, just like the book:

Take It Easy

So, when you're the mothership in a crazy nut-house like this one, there are days when things go so totally wrong it makes you want to run out the door only because you know that if someone looked inside and saw all the shennanigans inside they'd totally understand and not judge you.

Ahem.

Take the other day for example. I set Isla down in her crib sans diaper.

Worst. Mistake. Of. My. Life.

Finn alerted me to the problem after I had left the room for a quick moment and I came back to find her lovely (white) crib, lovely pink blanket AND lovely face covered in poo.

And everything else in the vicinity too, it seemed.

And then Luke came home and was all concerned because Jussi had gotten out and was strolling her bad self around the neighborhood and I had failed to notice.

When he saw the disaster zone he smartly let that one slide.

And then there was today. By 10am I had quickly and thoroughly convinced myself that I was, in fact, the worst mother ever.

Worse than Medea (nope, I take that back. Madea? Of the Tyler Perry variety? Only slightly better).

Finn was hitting and kicking everything, person and dog in sight. Isla was yelling at me and I didn't know why. I was yelling at everyone and didn't know why.

It was uncool, man.

And just when I thought things couldn't get worse, I had just spent 10 minutes putting Isla to bed only to come out and see that Finn had disappeared. When I called him all I heard was, 'I'm pooping!' and I hung my head in shame thinking I was about to come upon a disaster akin to the one previously mentioned.

But alas, no. He was on the toilet. All of his own, smart, mature accord.

And the heavens opened and the angels sang and handed me a well-deserved Diet Coke.

And was like, 'Thanks, angels. I needed that."

And then he took a nap. And then we went shopping. And I saved $30. And some lady gave my mom her $10 off coupon to Old Navy. And we got cookies. And 'pleases' and 'thank you's' were said.

And then we got home and Finn disappeared again only to be found en toilet once again on his own, doing the #2 thing.

And now I feel pretty awesome. And to solidify that easy, peaceful feeling I think I'll go eat a muffin and listen to the Eagles. Duh. 

So, with no further adieu a picture of Isla being awesome (and not covered in her own poo):