Sssss

Have you been introduced to the wonder that is pre-shelled sunflower seeds? I hadn't ever seen these, until 2 weeks ago when I was trying my darndest to eat healthier, and, while wandering in the produce section, saw these small pieces of heaven. You see, I have a thing with sunflower seeds. I love them. My whole life, we have eaten them on roadtrips, mostly. But I eat them in an unusual, and possibly dangerous, way - I eat them whole, with the shells on. I just can't be bothered to get that small little seed out of the shell, and plus I really like the saltiness on the outside. So despite warnings from my mom that I was going to choke to death on a piece of shell, I shoveled handfuls of whole sunflower seeds into my mouth and chomped them down. Luckily, I am still here to tell you the story - I have yet to choke on a shell.

BUT. Now that I have fallen in love with the preshelled kind (by the way, I really hope these are done by machine and there's not a bunch of poor people in China shelling them by hand - that would make me feel horrible), there might be no going back to the original ones.

However, I am not the only member of this household who has fallen in love with this bag of crunchy, salty deliciousness; Eva has also found a new favorite snack. She picks them up one by one with her little fingers. When she wants some "seeds," as I have taken to calling them, she says, "Sssss! Sssss!" She can't figure out the whole word yet, so I have learned that when she hisses at me from across the room, she is asking for a plate of seeds. They have fallen all over the floor and I find them everywhere, but I don't mind. I'm glad that Eva and I can share a love for seeds. Or ssss.

My son, the fatty.

Today I took Leighton to the doctor for thrush. Which, sure enough, he has. I didn't think it was possible to get that unless a baby was breastfed (which he isn't anymore - he's bottle fed with breastmilk and formula), but apparently it is. So we needed some medicine before we move on Friday. But anyway, the incredible thing about the visit was when I placed him on the scale and saw the numbers that flashed up.

Exactly 3 weeks ago (he's 5 weeks old today), we were at the doctor for his 2-week checkup. At that time, he weighed 7 lbs. 9 oz. - he had gained 5 oz. since birth. In the past 3 weeks, he has seriously porked up. Today he weighs 10 pounds 7 ounces. That is almost 3 pounds in 3 weeks! He doesn't look much bigger than when he was born, but he is definitely heavier. It hit me that he really is growing so fast. I always think to myself that I wish he could just hurry up and be 6 months - that is the best age in all of childhood, in my experience. But a small part of me will miss his tiny little body. Today I realized that I need to slow down and appreciate his newbornness, because it's fading fast. I sure love my little porker.

(His one month picture, taken last Saturday, with his giraffe D. Todd - named for the apostle. We had to continue the tradition since we have Eva's Henry frog for Henry B. Eyring and Ballard the duck.)

Beautiful accident

No, not Eva - the picture. Yesterday afternoon we were playing on the porch and I was taking some pictures of the kids. Eva loves the lens cap that hangs from the camera and was trying to put it back on. She reached for the camera the same time I tried to take a picture of her, and this is what I got.

It is possibly my favorite picture of the month, maybe even the entire year. Isn't she beautiful?

Unfair

I heard yesterday while watching the Olympics that Michael Phelps swims 5 hours everyday. And do you know how many calories he has to consume daily to refuel his body? 10,000. Yep, 10,000 whopping calories.

I seriously need to get a lifetsyle that burns enough to where I could eat 10,000 calories everyday. Oreos? No problem. An Almond Joy every hour on the hour? Child's play. A full gallon of Blue Bell MooLenium Crunch ice cream after a dinner of Mexican food? Bring it on.

So my bone to pick with nature is this: why doesn't being a mom burn that many calories? It's much harder than swimming (albeit a completely different kind of hard), and you have to do it much longer than 5 hours a day. Granted, I was never an Olympic swimmer. But I've been a high school swimmer, and I've been a mom. And I probably don't need to tell you that although the latter is much more rewarding, it's not even a comparison in the amount of effort it takes.

So to you, Michael Phelps, I say you just go on eating your way to Olympic fame. I'll still be here, eating my way to...the complete opposite of Olympic fame. Possibly fame at the grocery store for how much ice cream I buy. Not to refuel my insanely fit body, but just because I am craving it and lack the willpower to tell myself no. Life just isn't fair.

See family. Funny, funny family.

My family is funny.

Andrew took these first two pictures while we were in the process of posing for a normal picture. It was just a few minutes before they left to go back home to Houston after spending the weekend with us in Oklahoma and attending Leighton's blessing. I told Tim and Laura, my tall, ultra-skinny siblings, to stand partly in front of me to make my waist look smaller. So Laura stands directly in front of me and I peeked over her shoulder, and we all started laughing really hard.
Laughing pictures are my favorite, because it's one of the things that happens the most when we get together. Of course, there is always drama and arguing - probably more in my family than most normal families in the world - but there is always, always laughing. And I love that.

From the left: Mom, who secretly loves Tim's racist jokes, is addicted to Sonic's "Diet Coke with a lemon easy on the ice" and laughs so hard that she cries at least once a day; Sarah, who looks strange when she dives off the diving board, loves tween things like Hannah Montana, and can quote movies like nobody's business; Tim, whose nickname is Holly because he looks like he just got out of a concentration camp (long story), has the sweetest heart in the entire world, and occasionally pronounces words wrong in Buzz Word (the official family game) and causes great uproar; me, who makes more sarcastic jokes than is necessary just to get a laugh, has a nickname of BP (stands for bottomless pit) and can out-eat anyone in the family, and invented old family traditions like George Washington hair in the pool; Laura, who has a crush on Michael Phelps but has a smoker boyfriend, eats faster than anyone so she doesn't have to feel full, and loves doing strange photo shoots like America's Next Top Model pictures in the backyard; Dad, who does a flawless Elvis impersonation, used to wake us up in the morning by singing the BYU fight song and banging on our backs like a drum, and loves his grandkids more than life itself.

Other funny siblings missing from these pictures: Kim: newly-returned Romanian RM, girlfriend of BYU football player Landon, basement dweller, and Oreo-eater extraordinaire; Lindsay: mother of Tyler and gestating another (hopefully a girl!), homemade bread-maker, BYU-Idaho almost-graduate, and nauseous but beautiful cowgirl; Camille: BYU hopper, girlfriend of Tyler good-looking Juergens, painter of rooms, and eater of many otter-pops and ketchup with rice; and Jeffrey: confident-not-cocky golfer, breaker of girls' hearts, Facebook king, and our favorite Boy with a capital D for Drama, because he grew up with so many sisters.

Like I said, my family is funny.

Sleeping like a log

On Thursday evening, I was trying to wake Leighton up to feed him. No matter what I did - rubbing his feet with an ice cube for a second or two, taking his clothes off, changing his diaper, singing...he was out like a light and refusing to wake up. So we decided to put him in the tub.

He stayed asleep. Splashing water on his cheeks and stomach, scrubbing his head with a washcloth...it didn't faze him a bit.

Finally, after we got him out of the tub, he opened his eyes and woke up a little.

But he seemed pretty annoyed at us over the whole thing. Don't worry, he got over it as soon as the milk hit his mouth.

Leighton's Blessing Day

He's not crying - he's yawning. Bored with pictures already at one month old? Oh buddy, you haven't even seen the beginning of that camera in your cute little face.
He looks surprised at the kisses from Daddy. I don't know why - it's definitely NOT a rarity around here.

My love/hate relationship with my life, explained. Partially.

You know what I hate?

When people say something on their blog like, "I found the coolest thing on this website." And that's all they say - no explanation of what it is or why they think it is cool. So curiosity gets the best of you and you think that if they think it's cool, it's worth a look...and you take the time to click the link and it takes you to a website for Clorox bleach, or something equally UNcool. (By the way, that link above really is the the Clorox website, just by way of explanation.) I probably hate this just because I have nothing better to do than click on random stupid links. And even if I had better things to do, I lack the self-control to walk away from those links without knowing what is hiding behind them. Pathetic, I know.

The fact that every single time I nurse Leighton, I am absolutely positive he is going to rip my nipples right off. (Sorry for the indelicate use of the word "nipple" again, but in this context it simply cannot be avoided.) What kind of reconstructive surgery would that require? I hope I never find out, but at this rate I just might. Breastfeeding, in this household, always entails much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Well, he doesn't have teeth yet. But he still gnashes his gums quite effectively.

Seeing myself naked. Pregnancy may be beautiful, but I guarantee you that nobody is going to look at this postpartum sagginess and have any word closely resembling beautiful come to mind. Probably something more along the lines of "repulsive."

The feeling of being hungry. I'm so glad I don't live in Africa, because I HATE being hungry. I know that's childish and immature, but I get so bugged when my stomach is empty. A full Stephanie is a happy Stephanie.

Having no friends. I wish with all my heart we were back in Enid with the people I love. The last of our set of 2 friends left last week, leaving me all alone with nobody to talk to. Making me want to get out of here even worse. Melanie, if you are reading this, I miss you! And all you people I love in Enid, I miss you too!

Seeing a picture of myself on a day when I felt totally hot and realizing that I didn't look half as cute as I felt. To illustrate my point: This was taken last Saturday right before Eva left for Houston with my parents. I had on a new shirt and had done my hair all cute and even gone so far as to put on makeup. (Sadly, that signals a special occasion now. It used to be an everyday occurrence...oh motherhood, what have you done to me?) I thought I looked pretty good. Let's take a family picture in the name of preserving memories but really so I could remember how cute I looked? Insert said picture.

I definitely do NOT look like I am wearing makeup, and my hair wasn't as cute as it felt. Must have been the extreme heat and humidity in that downtown Dallas parking lot. And do I really have that fat of a face in real life, or did the camera add 10 pounds to each cheek? Sigh. I need Glamour Shots or something. Aside from that, it is a cute picture. Just look at my cute little family!

Getting hair in my mouth. But we have been over that. (See previous post.)

Being paranoid. Last night I was absolutely certain that my family would get in a car accident on the way up here and I would never see Eva again. So I lay awake worrying and praying and crying, all for nothing. I've been a worry wart my whole life, but being a mom just takes that to a whole new dimension.

But guess what I love?

The Olympics starts today! I am an Olympic freak and cry during every opening ceremony as far back as I can remember. I told Andrew last night that the Olympics just makes me feel so proud to be human. It's like I feel a bond with all of humanity, you know? Summer is the best - I love the swimming and gymnastics most of all. In my next life, I will be a gymnast. And I will have the cute little bum that comes with being one.

A pan of brownies by my side and not an ounce of self control. Yum. This pan will soon be empty.

Good hair days. I'm having one today. But I'm not going to take a picture and get all disappointed. I'll just keep on feeling obliviously cute.

I get my Eva girl back tonight!! My parents and a few siblings are coming in town for Leighton's blessing on Sunday, and they are bringing her home. And we'll live happily ever after...at least, as soon as we leave Altus.

The two grossest things I have ever eaten

Once upon a time, I went to Washington with my dear husband to go house hunting.**
(I know, that picture is awesome.)
I arrived there before he did (he drove from Spokane, and I flew from Houston). While I waited in our little hotel room for him to arrive, I watched television. There was a show called something along the lines of "I Can Make You Thin," if I remember right. It was this British guy that claimed he had this ground-breaking method for weight loss. I thought, "Hmm. Well, I might as well give this guy a shot--nothing to lose but weight and time." So I watched him. And basically, in a nut shell, he was a psycho. The show ended up being an inside joke between Andrew and me (he got there in time to watch part of it with me)--particularly one part. This guy - we'll call him Dr. Skinny, for our purposes - had this bizarre way of fighting cravings. Dr. Skinny said that whenever you felt a craving coming on, you should think of the sickest thing you could imagine eating and tap your forehead and your wrist and a couple other places on your body, and that would make the craving go away. (Like I said, psycho.) Anyway. The point of this is that at that time, I was really trying to think of the sickest, most disgusting thing I had ever tasted. And here's what it was:


I was staying at my parents house for Christmas last year, and we were all gathering around the table to play a game. I saw a gummy bear on the counter on my way to the table, so I picked it up and put it in my mouth. Harmless, right? Nope. This was no ordinary gummy bear. This gummy bear was covered, inside and out, with HAIR. Possibly dog hair. How I didn't see this when I picked it up, I have no idea. Eww, I am gagging as I even write this. The instant I felt the furry goo on my tongue, I started heaving and ran to the sink to spit it out. I was clawing at my tongue for a good five minutes, spitting and crying and cursing inwardly. How so much hair got on it is still a mystery - nobody in my family would own up to picking it up off the floor and setting it on the counter or anything. To this day, the memory of that wretched gummy bear in my mouth makes my stomach churn.


So that's what I thought of when I watched that show in Washington. But today, I had the second grossest eating experience of my life. I was sitting at the computer reading people's blog and snacking on a bag of Craisins. Now let me preface this by saying that Eva has a hobby of dumping out her bags of snacks - Craisins, yogurt-covered raisins, crackers...you name it, she has dumped it out on the floor. Often, rather than throwing it away and wasting money, I just carefully pick them up and put them back in the package. So. I grabbed a handful of Craisins and put a couple in my mouth. No sooner should I begin chewing than I feel a HAIR on my lips. Oh my gosh, I am gagging again with the thought. I warily reached up my hand to pull it out and looked at the long, curly, black hair in my fingers. It had obviously been picked up off the floor and put in the bag during one of Eva's episodes of dumping out Craisins. Which is absolutely disgusting.


So the moral of the story is...I'm not quite sure. I guess, following the strange advice of Dr. Skinny, think of my two revolting food incidents. Who knows - maybe it will work and make you lose your appetite. Writing about it has certainly made me lose mine. The end.




**Our hunt was successful. Here is what our house looks like on this very day. All done and ready for me to get there. Isn't it amazing? Feel free to comment on what great choices we made on cabinet colors and such, because we are pretty proud. You are welcome to come visit us and see it in person whenever you want.

Keeping up

Keeping up with two blogs is alot harder than keeping up with one, I'll tell you that much. I feel more pressure to keep up with the other one, so this one has been a little neglected. We are currently out of town (hallelujah!) staying with Andrew's sister Chanel in Dallas. We came here on Friday night after discovering that Andrew didn't have to work again until Thursday. And there was no way in you-know-where that I was going to sit in Altus that long when we had a chance to escape. So here we are. We came for a few reasons - last visit with them before we move, find a blessing outfit for Leighton, get new clothes for me, and give Eva to my parents (they drove up here from Houston to pick her up and will bring her back on Friday when they come up for the blessing). So it has been a good trip.

My mission in shopping is to find myself a dress for Sunday when we bless Leighton, but so far I have failed miserably. Today is attempt #3. I did get a DARLING cropped jean jacket from Ann Taylor Loft and a cute black blouse from Target, but that's it. Sad, isn't it? Andrew said he clothes-shops with me so much that he feels like my gay friend. :) He also thinks that I have been watching too much "What Not to Wear" because I'm so much pickier about how clothes fit me. But whatever.

So sorry about the lack of posts on here. I'm still alive, and blogging everyday here, and when we get back home to our insanely boring lives in Altus, I'll be more than able to keep up with both blogs. Oh, and our house is done! YAY!!! It's ready and waiting for us to move in. Oh house, how I love you. You'll never know how your existence makes my living in Altus all the more unbearable. But soon, very soon, we can be together. And I can paint your walls and decorate your rooms to my heart's content. Till then, dear house.

I think my heart just melted.

Eva has been playing with her babydoll while I held Leighton. She was feeding her baby the little bottle I gave her. But here's the part that makes me want to cry, it's so cute. I looked over at her just now and she is intently trying to strap her baby doll into Leighton's carseat. Gosh, I love that girl.

More about Mommy Spice

I am actually on a 2-week trial period over at Mommy Spice. The more comments my blog there gets, the more likely I am to actually get hired on as a permanent writer there. So if you head over to the site to check it out, please leave a quick comment to let me know what you think about what I wrote. Thanks to any and all of you who help me out with this! :)

PS - Scroll down and look at my haircut and van!