before this phase fades into another

Sadly I don't have anything to top the previous post's photo display, so I thought I'd be semi- self indulgent tonight and simply write.

Moments ago, I concluded the nightly ritual of tucking my children in bed sans Andrew. On the nights when he's home, bedtime is a family affair. One parent hides (this is a BIG DEAL) with the children under Eliza's covers while the other fetches their comfort items and cups of water before making their way into Eliza's room where GASP!!! ... "Where did Eliza and Henry go?"

***cue incessant giggling from beneath the purple dragonfly bedspread***

Ideally, we're both there to divide the task of changing their clothes, attending to the potty/diaper business and brushing their teeth. Then, it's stories, two songs and a family prayer. We trade off who escorts Henry to his room for a turn in the rocking chair, while the other snuggles Miss Eliza. Lately, that's been me because she's kind of hit a "girls rule, boys drool" phase.

Knowing Andrew would be gone Tuesday and Wednesday night, I decided that to combat my frustration regarding his absence (I know, I sound like a spoiled child), I would simply take my time with them. I was certain that the latest episode of LOST would be the high point of my day, but looking back, it was most certainly the time spent rocking Henry and listening to Eliza's curious and unique to her thoughts.

Henry has wised up and realized that the longer he lets me love on him, the longer Mommy's going to stay put in that rocking chair. However, most nights, there comes a point where the comedian inside him overrules his sweeter nature. He finds great joy in honking my nose and slapping my cheeks, hoping I'll get the hint that he wants me to fill them full of air for his deflating amusement.

Last night was different. He kept petting my hair, calling me "kitty," naming my facial features and whispering, "I WUV YOU, MOM"

Holy ball of melted cheese. I love that kid. I told him, right then that he was so special (he's totally comfortable with a sap-infused Mother).

"Ya Mom" was his whispered reply.

Henry, a.k.a Captain Collision, has entered a phase of premature bravery. Walking down the stairs on his feet is his latest endeavor. At a friend's house Sunday, he attempted to show off his newly developed skill for his friends. However, his love for dress up shoes proved fatal as he took a tumble straight into the banister. His black eye is tough and overshadows the fact that he loves a high heeled shoe and tiara.He's a tease. His favorite target is Eliza. Stealing a favorite stuffed animal from her arms, he bolts into the playroom, chucks it underneath the kid table and continues full speed into the front room giggling at her distress all the way.

"Henry! Tell Eliza you're sorry!" I encourage.

"Sorry, Syszah!" He replies with a smile.

"It's okay, please don't do it again." That is her response to every apology.

Just recently, he's begun using full sentences. They are still intermingled with a boat load of blabber, but I'm not in any rush for that trait to disappear.

And then there's Eliza. What a joy. If your kids interact with her regularly, you may not believe me when I say that she's the family peace maker. She totally is. Her heart is the size of Texas. When Henry's upset, she embarks on an immediate self appointed search to find his blanket. She's the first to diffuse tension, which I'm aware, shouldn't be a child's job. And she's the first to offer me a song and dance when I'm teary.

Reading her brother a story

Last night, she threw up. Throwing up devastates her. She feels shame, despite the fact that I am most compassionate when my children are vomiting. It's my least favorite illness to date... which is NOT an invitation to the universe to send us something terribly nasty to usurp the stomach bug from the throne of disdain... I'm just saying, it's a painful one to watch and scary knowing that most likely, you'll be the one bonding with the toilet when her illness passes.

As I exchanged her soiled bedding for fresh, she planted herself in the corner of her room. She hung her head in sadness and said,

"I'm sorry, Mama. I won't do it again." It broke my heart. I assured her a thousand times that it's okay to be sick and that I felt so so sorry for her (etc.). The good news is, round 2 made it into the barf bowl and the dear child didn't bother to inform me until 8:00 the next morning.

Henry, THANKFULLY, hasn't come down with this batch load of nasty yet. I'd be surprised if he doesn't, but so far, I haven't detected a change in his behavior. Let us cross our fingers. Still, he managed to contribute his fair share this morning when he pooped in the bathtub. Counting our blessings a second time, I'd already washed their hair... still, it was gross. Andrew should have been there. He would have thought it was hilarious.

Our days, lately, have felt challenging but at night during my self appointed, and unfortunately automatic "Mom evaluation," I realize how incredibly blessed I am to find myself in these tricky situations. This past week, I've started asking Eliza at bedtime if she had a grumpy Mom or a happy Mom that day. And you know, that child is honest. Fortunately, she loves me regardless of my short comings, but that question has been etched into my brain. During the day it's helped me out of unpleasant moods.

I love my job. It's exhausting and I fall short, but I go to bed grateful to have another go in the morning.

the Sunday afternoon nap

What's the best part of having nine o'clock Church? At our house, we look forward to an afternoon of quality napping. If you had peeked into our house yesterday around 2:00 p.m., you would have found three slumbering heaps. Henry happily welcomed a reunion with his crib. I drifted off while reading a book in my own bed while Mr. Flegal found an inviting patch of sun on the living room carpet and fell asleep. A few feet away, Miss Eliza sat at the kitchen table totally enthralled with her new digital art studio (her reward for trying new foods - more on that later).

Waking up, Andrew noticed Eliza sitting perfectly still; with her chin resting on the table. It wasn't long until he realized that she too had succumbed to her own piece of exhaustion.


Please note: Eliza had written the word "DAD" on the computer before she fell asleep. She's been writing up a storm as of late.
I'm sure one photo would have been sufficient, but I couldn't help myself. Each one makes me laugh.

Would You Say I'm Clingy?

Going to a wedding reception on your own on a Friday night isn't a terrible thing. Do you want to know what is a terrible thing? Not owning a slip. Stopping at my nearest Ride Aid (for a last minute wedding card), I soon realize that I am the poster child for static cling.

"This will not do." I think to myself as I pull and mess with the dress that will not stay put. Perhaps I feel clever? Or, perhaps it's simply desperation? Whatever the cause, I soon found myself on the aisle of all things laundry. Spotting a box of dryer sheets, my solution is made clear.
Thelma, the cashier, can't help but rave over how wonderful I smell. She asks what perfume I am wearing as I prepare to pay. Laughing, I explain I'm not the fragrant source. After bidding one another a kind farewell, I head back to my car where I proceed to rub one of those babies all over my legs in an attempt to tame the static. Ain't I classy?

Saturday morning the kids and I went to Eliza's first primary activity where she helped make hygiene packets for Haiti. It makes my heart happy to see her grown up enough to participate with all of the "big kids." Meanwhile, Andrew spent most of his day on a temple trip with the youth. Ten minutes after arriving home, he whisked the kids away to go enjoy the sunshine at the park. I love that his downtime is spent with his kids. He couldn't resist taking a few pictures when they got home.Meanwhile, I prepared the house for a babysitter so that we could go to an adult Stake dance. I must be more stir crazy than I imagined because I let loose in a total freeing and somewhat embarrassing way. This morning Andrew and I shared the following exchange:

"Am I going to be embarrassed to see anyone at Church today?" I ask.

"No, it's not like you were drunk." He replies.

"I know, but I don't have to be drunk to act intoxicated."

"True. Very true."

I'm glad we went; glad for our awesome babysitter and glad for the chance to have laughed and visited with friends from the ward.

what i love

Strike a pose, little lady. Eliza's latest past times include her take on modern dancing and the interpretation of dreams.



She wakes up each morning ready to discuss her previous night's dream. This is followed by a round of questions regarding my personal adventures to dreamland. Recently she relayed the following.

"Mom"

"Yes, Eliza?"

"Last night, in my dream," She pauses. A rush of giggles accompany her words. "Mary made me a funny breakfast." She keeps laughing as I respond.

"That's silly. But wait?" I ask. "Who is Mary?" Quickly composing herself, she shoots me an expression that reads: DUH! She then says,

"You know, the one with the little lamb?"

She is pure entertainment; pure joy.

Next fall, she'll begin a 4k preschool program (state funded) at our Elementary school. How's that for crazy? Yesterday, I held the registration form/information and felt an overwhelming sense of change. Although she'll only be gone for three hours, it marks the beginning of her professional (for lack of a better word) school career.

As I swallow the lump in my throat, I do my best to contact the doctor's office, request her immunization record/certificate and mentally remind myself where all of her other official documents lay in wait. I feel like I can check a few things off of my "I'm a Mom" list, but 'registering your child for school' seems to be written in a foreign language in the Ali Flegal book of Mom. Am I old enough to be doing this? Well, sure. Am I mature enough to handle this? That's debatable. Am I over reacting? Probably.

At least this dear one will be around to keep me company.

He's irresistible, I tell you. Not to mention, he's a few weeks away from turning two!

Sadly, Andrew has been absent from our nightly bedtime routine for the past three nights (car maintenance, young men's activity, missionary splits). Whether he's there or not, its important to him to be the last to look in on those adorable slumbering lumps before we turn in for the night. Kindly, he lets me tag along.

On occasion, Henry begins sleep talking when we come into evaluate his blanket situation. Last night, he sat up and began spluttering a load of adorable nonsense. Feeling the absence of those bedtime partings, Andrew immediately scoops him up. Before I know it, I'm at Andrew's shoulder, kissing this little boy's sweet head - who, by the way - is now quiet and sleeping. It was a solid reminder of how awesome parenthood is.

And trust me, I have my fair share of, "You got to be me kidding me, this inconvenient tantrum can't seriously be happening right now, ready to pull out my hair, eating the words of praise I delivered seconds earlier" type of moments ALL.THE.TIME

"Ya right, Mom!"

I love them. Words of affirmation is my love language (I know. That shocks you.) Which is why posts like this are inevitable and frequent.

p.s. My days of hauling Henry's little bum up the huge inflatable slide at Monkey Joes are at an end. This little monkey learned to do it all by himself... simple and mundane update, but I was sure proud of him.

*** COMPLETELY UNRELATED *** Who watched Survivor last night? How awesome were Colby and Tom for standing up for Stephanie? That is all.

Best Wishes

A Mother to be,

patiently waits

for the arrival of her child

She is filled with excitement.

Thanks for spending a few days with us. My family will miss you (especially me). I hope that sweet baby arrives soon, healthy and well. You're in our thoughts and prayers.

A Southern Welcome

How lucky am I?

The day my Mom left, a dear friend from my youth arrived at our house. Oh, how ardently I have hoped and waited to play hostess to a friend from the West. It was a tender mercy to have her company to focus on after bidding my Mom a tearful farewell only hours earlier.

Allow me to introduce you to Angela.
Her reason for being here is so special as she is eagerly awaiting the arrival of her first child via the blessing and miracle of adoption. Witnessing her excitement, preparation and anticipation from the "sidelines" has been a privilege.

Being the pair of dramatic eighth graders that we once were, I have memories of us walking in the rain in the neighborhood of a friend to a large and solitary pine tree. There, we'd take shelter from the weather, sit ourselves on a batch of pine needles and talk about the injustices and hardships of our lives until we were both crying. Our puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks served as evidence to the rest of our friends of our ability to bond - oh how these memories makes me laugh!

Life happened. Time passed. As seniors in high school, we both found ourselves dating our future husbands. College took us separate directions but happily the blogging world put us back in touch and now she's here and its awesome.

Chatting with her all day is a source of total enjoyment for me. She's been a champ to endure the chaos of my children, accompany us on our weekly outings, etc. At the moment, we're laughing at Eliza who has just informed us that she'd like to be known as Arlene (what.the.random.) and that her Mr. Potato Head's name is Moe.

We were able to sneak away to a movie last night and hopefully there is a shopping trip looming in our near future. But I think the real highlight was the shocking site of seeing a trucker peeing on the side of the road, just as we exited the free-way. The range was close and absolutely disturbing. Welcome to the South.

She'll be a great Mom! There's no doubt about it. When I was pregnant with Henry, I asked for opinions on the type of double stroller I should buy... and what do you know!! The person who had the best, most detailed response was Angela. I was blown away by that. Let me tell you, this lady is all about preparation. Her desire to make others happy and give of herself is innate.

Henry has formed an attachment to 'La La' (as he calls her).

For the sake of their amazing birth mother and the excited parents to be, I hope her sweet baby safely arrives soon! In the meantime, I'm soaking up the interaction and the time we have to catch up. Chances like this don't crop up that often.

Mush, Mush!

Fill in the blank.

Andrew is...A) training for a triathlon
B) coping with stress
C) a really, really fun Dad

My Mom, who was looking for an escape from the snow, woke up to a wonderland of beautiful white on Saturday morning. As for my dear spouse, the snow put him in an inspirational mood.

After tinkering for thirty minutes, he created a homemade toboggan. The kids were thrilled. Henry would have been content if it had never left the living room. Eliza, on the other hand, was itching to try it out.

The outdoor enthusiast. Like father, like daughter.

Before the coats were zipped and the boots were buckled, there was an important item of business to attend too...

Please note the flames on the right hand side of the image. Once they were satisfied with their job, we hit the front yard for the Flegal mushing tour. After the third run, I decided to take some footage and of course, they crashed.

"Let me tell you, crashing was not awesome."

So, we switched gears.
After our morning in the snow, I took another shopping trip (to Ross) with my Mom. That night we played games and watched a movie, courtesy of redbox.

My Mom left Sunday afternoon and you'd think that after being away from Utah for 18+ months, my capability to stifle back emotion would be better intact than it was. I securely adjusted my sunglasses before crumbling into a ball of emotional chaos.

Coming home, I made my way to the room where she'd stayed, inhaled the remaining scent of her perfume and all of the other cliche and over the top cheesy things sentimental shmucks like me do when they're missing a cherished loved one. I found myself on my knees, praying and thanking the Lord for blessing me with such a wonderful Mother.

A rosy cheeked Valentine

The day, overall, was incredibly special. I spent sometime journaling the 'old fashioned' way (pen and paper). Those lines welcomed my indulgence of all things schmooze and provided me a place to fold up and store the two cards I found hiding on my pillow and on my night stand.