Favorite Photo Friday

Heather's 2nd Birthday

June 1998

As I'm in the throws of birthday planning for Tanner's birthday party (and I just finished planning Kendall's), I am reminded of when things were simple.  This picture showed up when Kendall and I were organizing the scrapbook closet this morning, which just also happens to be where every photo in our house is kept.  When I saw it, I couldn't help but notice how much Heather looks like my little 2 year old Kendall did.  Of course, everyone in the picture looks much younger.  But it was, after all, 15 years ago.

What??!!!

My first little bundle of love is turning 15??!!  On Tuesday??!!

OK, so she isn't mine, per se.  But I loved her like she my own before I had my own.  And I remember when she was born, like it was yesterday.  I remember leaving for UGA and being so devastated that I wouldn't be home when she entered the world.  I remember Mom calling me to tell me when she was born, and I couldn't wait to get home and see her.  I also remember leaving for my sophomore year when she was almost one and being so sad because I was afraid she wouldn't remember me when I came back.

(OK, so I was a little dramatic.  I did live out of my suitcase after all, coming home almost every single weekend.  I know ... I was a party animal.)

Now, as Heather has grown and matured, I get the feeling she doesn't like me as much as she used to.

Maybe that's just the hormones talking.  Of course, what 15 year old does like her aunt?

Anyway, I love this picture.  I love all the people in it.  I love that Josh looks so young (well, actually he was just then voting age.)  I love that Tim and I are together in this picture.  I love that it was taken in my mom and dad's old kitchen.

Happy birthday, Heather!!  I love you and I'm very proud of how you have grown!

Whose Butt was That?

I was in Target the other day and I saw one of the most disgusting sights.  I'm going to try really hard not to offend anyone here, but it was bad.  This butt I saw was squeezed into these teeny little shorts, under which there were some pretty obvious panty lines due to some too-small panties.  The belt that this girl so obviously did not need to hold her pants up was only accentuating the muffin top protruding from the top of these low-slung shorts.

You know, everyone shouldn't wear low cut pants.  Sometimes it just makes things that should be held in ... well, not held in.

Anyway, as this body turned and looked in the mirror, checking to see how things looked "back there," I noticed that the thighs and butt had dimples.  The cottage cheese was just ridiculous.  Seriously.  I mean, why didn't anyone tell this woman that she shouldn't wear those shorts?  Why didn't someone tell her to wear jeans?  Or better yet, she should've just stayed home and worked out!

(You're thinking I'm really terrible right now, aren't you?  I know, I should just keep some of these thoughts to myself, but I warned you.)

So, as this woman perused swimsuits and more shorts, I couldn't help but be reminded of the fried apple pies I just ate, or the pasta loaded with cheese I ate for dinner.  I also couldn't help but think that maybe I should put down the frappucino with extra whip, go home and work out too.  I mean, I used to be so motivated?  What in the world happened?

Just as I was thinking these very thoughts, I turned and recognized the girl.

Holy crap!  That girl looks just like me.

Oh ... wait ...

Maybe I should lay off the fried pies and gooey cheese for a while.

(And you thought I was talking about someone else!!  I wouldn't talk about someone else like that!)

I Love Having a Girl

I know I talk a lot about how difficult Kendall can be.  For a few years now (or more) I've complained about her attitude and how hard she is to manage.  Of course, recently I realized it is because we are so much alike.  She is independent and stubborn; she gets each of these traits from her mom and dad, respectively.  I always joke about how she was such a rough baby (Thank God most of that has been blocked from my memory ...), she was an amazing toddler (except for the whole sleep issue thing), then she was a terrible three-year-old and a ferocious four-year-old.  When she turned 5, Kendall became the sweetest angel ever, only to return to the land of the sassy when she hit age 6.  Many have heard me say, "How can it be that I only got a few good years out of her?"

Of course, I mean those words with the greatest intentions and I say them with love, always.

I love my little girl.  In fact, I down-right adore her most of the time.  She is not cuddly and affectionate with me the way Tanner is, so many times it's difficult to "feel" the love.  But as we celebrated her 7th birthday this past weekend, I found myself reflecting on the life I've had with her so far.

In honor of my little girl and her 7th birthday, I am now going to give you the top 10 reasons why I love having a girl.  Specifically, my little girl.

1)  Hair -- Little girls have way better hair than little boys.  I mean, even if you decide to grow your son's hair out (which we tried to do for a few years), you still can't put it in rollers, braids, or pigtails.

Well, you can, but people will think you're weird.

And I am amazingly lucky to have a little girl who has a head of hair as luscious and gorgeous as her mother's.  Which is a blessing and a curse simultaneously.

2)  Nails -- While being a mom of a boy is awesome, having a little girl that you can take to the nail place is an experience everyone should have.  I look forward to many years of taking Kendall to the nail salon and having her nails done.  She has recently grown accustomed to doing her own nails at home (and I have to let her do them ... with clenched teeth), and she loves her glitter.

A boy with glittery fingernails just wouldn't be right.

3)  Lip gloss -- I love lip gloss.  So does Kendall.  And she has more lip gloss than I do.  Her favorite?  Her Clinique lip plumper.

4)  Shoes -- My girl loves some shoes.  And not only does she love having many pairs of shoes, she likes shoe shopping.  I remember when I was little and I used to play dress up with my mom's heels.  Kendall does the same thing now, at least once a week.  While I hate the stomping that comes with the heel testing, I do love to see her walking around in my shoes.  I can only hope one day that we have the same size foot ...  because she has great taste in shoes.

5)  Purses -- Kendall can appreciate a good purse.  Or bag.  And the bigger, the better.  Enough said.

6)  Chores -- She likes to help around the house.  Her favorite chore since she could reach the sink was helping with the dishes.  Heck, she even liked helping before she could reach the sink.  I like to show her other things to do do she won't always think that cooking and cleaning are her responsibility as a woman; but for now she's content taking on the "mother" role and helping me with the dishes and cooking.  And that makes me happy.  I recently found a new appreciation for her "help;" she helped pull my hair through the cap when we were doing my highlights.  Thanks, baby girl!

7)  Dolls -- I know in recent years it has been OK for boys to play with dolls.  Some new age moms even urge their boys to play with dolls, trying to break the gender stigma that comes along with raising boys and girls.  However, before I could tell her otherwise, Kendall became fascinated with dolls.  She has Barbies now, but even at age 7, she still prefers baby dolls.  Nana and I took her to the American Girl Bistro and Boutique for her birthday.  And while she appreciated all the big girl dolls, she immediately gravitated toward the Bitty Babies on the way in the store.  She ended up coming home with one; another baby to add to her collection.  And she loves carrying them, changing their fictitious diapers, and loving on them.  She puts them to bed and sings to them.  It all verifies that a) I've taught her something right about being a good mom, and b) she is going to be a good mommy one day.

8)  Dance -- I remember the first time I put a pair of tap shoes on Kendall.  I teared up as I tied those little black laces, and Kendall never understood why.  To this day, every time I watch her dance, I cry.  When they have parent watch week at dance class, I cry.  I know she thinks I'm so weird -- but it's just that I'm so proud of her.  She was so shy when she was younger.  And watching her break out of that shell has made me ooze with pride.  I adore all her little outfits and all her little tights and all her little costumes.  I was devastated when she told me she doesn't want to dance anymore.  I'm still hoping to change her mind before fall classes start.

9)  Daddy's girl -- I know that Tim doesn't realize it, but this little girl loves her some Daddy.  Not only do they look alike, but many aspects of their personalities are the same.  Not only is she gorgeous like him, but she is strong, independent, brave, and contemplative, just like Tim.  There are still nights when Tim isn't home and she cries when i put her to bed because he isn't here for her to kiss good night.  While it makes me tear up, it also makes me happy that she misses him when he's gone.  I love having a Daddy's Girl.

10)  Forever friends -- I know that, while Kendall and I bump heads pretty regularly these days, I have a forever friend in her.  Tanner will be the one that I have to take care of and get out of trouble; but Kendall is going to be a confidante, a shopping buddy, a dinner partner, and a friend when she is older.  I look forward to having a relationship with her like I have with my mom now.

As an added bonus, she is just so darn cute.  I couldn't ask for a better little girl.  I'm glad God chose Tim and me to be her parents.

The Book Doesn't Say What to Do Now!?!

When I was pregnant with both of my kids, I read all the books -- OK, well, I read them when I was pregnant with Kendall and then just tried to remember them when I was pregnant with Tanner.  But I remember well the importance placed on the effectiveness of room darkening shades and white noise machines or fans when trying to sleep-train your baby.  No matter what I read, the author's screamed with importance, "White noise is the way to go!!  The sound will drown out any other noise in the house and your baby will sleep like an angel."

OK, so I may be misquoting, but everything said something similar.

For the most part, the books were right.  Tim and I have slept with white noise machines and fans for years before the kids were born; it was only natural that they would follow in our oh-so-wise footsteps.  So each kid's room is equipped with it's own sound machine exactly like the one in our room and at Nana's house.  The sound machine goes where they go -- there is one at my mom's house but we pack one for Tim's parents'.  The kids just sleep better if they have it, just like their parents do.

(Side note -- When we went camping last, we even pitched our tent on a site with electricity so we could plug in our sound machines. Sad, I know.)

So last night, at 6:30, when the power went out, I was dreading the night to come.  The books don't tell me what to do when there is no electricity for the white noise machine.  How do you sleep in silence when you have been sleeping with that background noise for 7 years??  I know they've slept without it before once or twice, but the time I forgot to pack their machine for an overnight at the in-laws', all of the electricity wasn't out.  They still had night lights, fans, and such.

Anyway, after an evening of lots of huffing and puffing and things getting slammed around (In hind sight, I shouldn't have expected Tim to grill after working all day.  It was storming, after all.), we ate our lukewarm dinner by candlelight and got the kids bathed before it was too dark.  Then we sat.  The power was out at 6:30 and did not come back on until 2:30 AM.  I read half a book, Tim played on his iPhone until it went dead (or Tanner played on it), and Tim and I went through a bottle of wine.

How did people survive without electricity???  Seriously??

(Don't answer that.  It will only make me feel like a bad mom.)

Around 10 (when Georgia Power said the power would return) we threw in the towel and decided to try to get some sleep.

Silly me, I thought I would just nestle my little angels in their beds, meander back down the hall and climb in my bed.

No way.  I could hear Tanner crying as I brushed my teeth and decided I was going to have to sleep with them.

So for his birthday, Tanner is getting a king size bed.

(Only kidding ... partly ...)

I "slept" between a 7 year old and 4.5 year old for as long as I could stand it.  Eventually, it got so hot that I had to move to the foot of the bed (cross way, like a dog) and sleep on Tanner's pillow pet.  It was surprisingly comfortable -- or at least more comfortable.  At one point Tanner called for me, and I just tapped his leg and told him I was there and to go back to sleep.  He must have been confused (and thought he was lying sideways) because he shifted and pushed poor Kendall right out of the bed.

Good times.

At 2:30, finally!, the power kicked back on.  I've never been so happy for air conditioning.  I hefted my 54 lb daughter onto my shoulder and placed her in her bed; she never woke up.  I reset all the night lights so they wouldn't flash rainbows all night long.  Then I had to sing to Tanner so he would go back to sleep.  Once I hit my own pillow, I slept like a log.

This morning I woke up thinking that I got to experience something last night I haven't experienced in a long time.  About 4.5 years, to be exact.

As I lay between my two gifts from God, I listened to their breathing.  Tanner's breath is quick, like he's running a race in his sleep.  Every few minutes he smacks or sticks his thumb back in his mouth and I can hear him slurping away.  Kendall breathes deeply, but through her mouth.  So every few minutes I hear her licking her lips or rolling over.  They are both so peaceful when they are sleeping.  I revelled in the quiet for a few minutes, knowing that I am one of the luckiest women in the world.

Even without electricity.

Shout out!

I talk alot about my immediate family -- Tim, myself, my kids -- but I rarely mention any of the other people in our lives who make it worth all the effort.  Since today is his 41st birthday (Holy crap, he's old!), I want to introduce you to David.  Or Uncle David, if you are Tanner or Kendall.


David has been a part of the family since ... well, almost as long as I have.  He's pretty awesome as far as uncles go.  On that note, Uncle David and Aunt Keri are pretty damn fantastic in that department.  Any time my kids have something going on -- births, graduations, birthdays, dance recitals, lost teeth -- they are always there.


But I digress.


This one is about David.

So, David is awesome.  He is always very matter-of-fact about things, and he loves family.  Well, he loves what family should be.  He is quick to point out if something is being done in a ridiculous way.  (It's a compliment, trust me.)  He's quick to defend the ones he loves.  He is willing to pour the Jager shots at birthday parties. He is always willing to hide the Easter eggs (we missed him this year) or get in the floor and play trucks.  In fact, many times he'll steal the kids' toys to go play where no one can bother him or interrupt!  (Again, it's a compliment.)  David isn't a dad yet, but I know when it happens, he is going to be a natural.


I am so thankful for David.  I know I never tell him this; and many times it probably seems that I take him for granted.  But my kids don't have many male influences in their little lives.  They have their daddy, David, Josh (though we rarely get to see him because he's so far away), and Tim's dad.  Tim is the only man they see regularly, so I'm very thankful that they have Uncle David in their lives.


So here's to Uncle David on his 41st birthday!  Thank for being a part of this crazy family with me.  It's nice to have someone else who has to weather the storms with me!! ;0)

Favorite Photo Friday

Baby Joshua and Daddy Joshua

May 2011

Here he is!!  The newest addition to our family.  My baby brother holding his baby boy just makes me all gooey inside.  It doesn't hurt that he is named after our daddy.  That puts a little extra gooey-ness into the mix.  Mom just got back from visiting in Colorado and said that he is just as precious (if not more so) in person as he is in all his pictures.  

Baby Joshua, not Big Josh.  

OK, so Mom probably thinks Josh is cute-as-pie too holding his son.  I suppose he is a bit cuter with his newest accessory.

I mean who wouldn't look cuter holding that little baby burrito?!

To me, he looks just like his big sister Caidyn; he has her nose and her precious little lips.  It makes me kinda sad (OK, I'm down right devastated) that I don't get to hold him now while he's all tiny, wrinkled and squishy.  He may be a toddler runnningback before I get to meet him, in fact.

But I suppose this is the price we pay for having someone in the military.  Others live far from families, too; it's a sacrifice.

Lucky for us there is such a thing as computers, email, and video chatting so we can watch him grow before we see him in person. :0)