Instagram Love and Red Balloons

I love instagram. The more I am on Instagram the more I find myself despising Facebook. Instagram is mostly happy. No drama. Good clean fun. (I believe this statement to be true for adults who have a sense of the Godly, and unGodly) I CHOOSE to follow people on Instagram who make me smile, are positive, love Jesus, are entertaining and who make me laugh. I follow people who I have never met in person but who I have grown to love because of what they stand for. Emmy Blakely, for instance, who is an advocate for adoption. She raises funds for OTHER people’s families to be whole through adoption. Her personal journey with adoption and infertility is an inspiration to me. So I stalk...I mean follow her...and support the adoption fundraising she does. She was the first that I started following without having a personal relationship. Steve often times makes fun of me because of the fake friends that I have made on Instagram. But I don’t care...what does he know? Boys just don’t understand :) 

I began writing this today because one of the people that I follow posted a picture of a mom, dad and little boy asking people to pray for them because of the tragedy they are going through. I began digging and looking for answers as to what happened. My worst thought was reality. The precious, red haired, 3 year old little boy smiling in that picture had died in a tragic accident. He ran out in the street chasing a frisbee and was hit by a truck. My heart has been broken for this family, that I don’t even know, all day. I can’t help but imagine if that tragedy had happened to us. I think about our 3 year old little boy. How much life, laughter, fun and joy he brings to our lives every day. To lose either of my boys in a flash would send me spiraling. I cannot imagine the pain these parents are experiencing. The fight they feel just to breathe. To wake up. To put on clothes. To shower. To eat. To pray. Every task, I would imagine, would feel monumental and yet insignificant. It’s a reminder to me today that this life is temporary. That this life can end in an instant. I know that handsome boy is running with Jesus, free from this world. But his parents are left in the wake of death and tragedy. Would you lift a prayer for them? Their names are Dan and Jacqui. In the midst of darkness we need others to lift us up in prayer. Because even praying seems too hard. My heart breaks for this mommy and daddy that just a few days ago, played with their little not knowing it would be the end. To learn more about this family, search for #redballoonsforryan on Instagram, where you will find pictures and some small businesses doing fundraisers to support the family, if you’re interested. 

Hug your little ones tight. Take the time to put down your phone, your computer, your ipad. Turn off the TV. Go play. Play like you’ve never played before. Use your imagination. Engage in their interests. Put aside your agenda of laundry, and cleaning and dinner and making lunches....and remember that life is short. The laundry will still be there tomorrow. Feed your family though...people do need to eat. Savor the little moments. I heard someone say once to never let go of a child’s hug, but allow them to be the one to let go first. You just never know how long of a hug they need that day. I have put that to practice in our family and what a joy it has been to hold my kids until they choose to let go. Sometimes it’s fast. But sometimes they sink in and because I’m paying attention, I know they need it that day. So I hold tight until they’re done. 

This tragedy hit me hard because it feels so close to home. I could be the one laying down to sleep tonight without my baby boy tucked tightly and lovingly into his bed. I am thankful to our Savior for Hope in the midst of storms. I know and trust that somehow Jesus will give this family the strength to make it through another day. For the faith to know that he won’t waste this hurt. And for His love to swell inside them providing peace and comfort as they walk day to day, never the same again. 

Lovesandboys, 

Bekah

Soul Delights

Wow. It's been a while. The previous post makes me giggle because of the epic FAIL that occurred after. Hahaha. Well...there's always a fresh start. And I've missed blogging. So here we go...

Updates: My boys are old now. The boy is almost 7 and Baby Z is 3. I tell them all the time to stop growing up. The boy just looks at me and smiles. Baby Z says to me, and I quote, "No. I won't stop growing up Mommy. I just can't stop it." FINE! I tell him. BE THAT WAY! :) And then I stomp into a corner and cry myself to sleep.

I turned 36 about 3 weeks ago. It occurred to me that I am now one checkbox closer to the end. 20-25, 26-30, 31-35...I'm now in that 36-40 check here category. Ugh. No thank you. I still feel like I'm 25 for goodness sakes. How am I on the downward slope to 40? The age that just a few short years ago felt like ancient of days to me. The age my parents were when I was in high school. Remember how old your parents felt when you were in high school? And now that's me. Only my kids are in 1st grade and preschool. So I've realized that by the time they're in high school I'm going to be the age my parents were when my sister started having kids. Did I start late? Or did they start when they were still children? Yikes. Getting older isn't terrible...but it is...interesting? Intriguing? Full of wonder? An abyss of where did that mole come from and why is standing up so much harder than it used to be? There are no words or explanations. It is what it is. And what that is no one knows. All we know is that with each passing year we become more like our parents and find ourselves melting into sentimental saps. 36. It's an age. If you need me I'll be at Walmart picking up some Dr. Scholl's and some reading glasses.

In other news...
It's fall. And fall is my favorite time of year. Pumpkin everything...lattes, cakes, breads, cookies, donuts...I love it all. The weather has cooled. There is freshness in the air. And the kids can finally go outside again. Vegas tends to have that awesome, there's a blow dryer on high pointed at my face feeling well into September. So we hibernate all summer as much as we can. We run from AC to AC with anger in our hearts and sweat on our every parts. But the fall ends all of that. The anger turns to happiness. And the sweat turns to fat...from all the pumpkin goodies. It makes my soul glad. Speaking of souls. My husband ran into the store tonight with Baby Z in tow. The boy and I hung in the car and blasted music and talked nonsense...but sometimes all that nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings (name that movie)....anyway. We were sitting there and a song came on that the boy was NOT into. He looked at me and said, it hurts my soul. Wow. Dramatic much? Act like your mommy much? Oops. Us Withey's have a flare for the dramatic.

B-T-DUBS...I leave for Vermont in two days. Now that delights my soul.
Mmmmmm....maple.
Happy fall everyone.

Lovesandboys,
Bekah

Intentionally 2012

Yep. It's 2012. It wasn't that long ago that 2012 seemed like light years away. I was 18 just a few months ago! (192 months ago to be exact...yikes!) Let's not talk about it.

So, I find myself in 2012, married with 2 kids, a dog, a mortgage and a partridge in a pear tree. I'm happy. Fulfilled. Love Jesus. Love my family. Sigh. But I want to be more intentional. That is my goal for this year. To walk this life with intention in every area.

Intention (in-ten-shun) noun: purpose or attitude toward the effect of one's actions or conduct.

Hmmmm...

So often I find my self being reactive instead of proactive. This, I think...is in direct relation to being intentional.

For example: The dishwasher is full. So I leave the morning dishes in the sink praying to Jesus that the husband will unload the dishwasher and load the dishes. This, in fact, is not what happens. He in turn, leaves dishes from lunch also praying to Jesus that I will unload the dishwasher and do the dishes. 3 days and 152 dishes later...one of us find ourselves doing dishes for an hour when it would have only taken 5 minutes to wash the breakfast dishes from 3 days ago if we had just done that in the first place. So then...I am stuck scrubbing and slaving over nasty, gross dishes. REACTIVE.

Another example: There is a donut. Yum. I eat it. 5 years after kids later I find myself...let's just say a lot of pounds heavier than I once was...needing to lose all this weight when if I had just been more intentional about healthy eating to begin with I wouldn't need to slave over losing unwanted pounds. Then when the boy sees pictures of me from our wedding day he doesn't have to say things like, "Mommy, how come when you married daddy your tummy was flat?" And then I don't have to point my finger in his face and declare "WHEN YOU CARRY TWO HUMAN BEINGS IN YOUR GUT YOU CAN ASK ME THAT QUESTION AGAIN!" I mean...errr...that's not actually what I said. But it sure is what I wanted to say. Instead, I smiled at him and told him that sometimes that just happens to mommies after they have kids. Normal mommies anyway...darn you skinny moms! YOU MAKE US ALL LOOK BAD! :) I mean, way to lose your baby weight, you look great and stuff...

REACTIVE.

Our lives require intentional living. Emotionally, spiritually, physically, financially, in relationships, at work...I want to KNOW that my actions have purpose and are helping me achieve the effect that I want in this life.

This year, the boy starts Kindergarten. Baby Z turns 2. WHERE DOES THE TIME GO?!? As they grow, chaos grows. Being intentional with my time with my two amazing boys gets even more crucial. They're so cool. And amazing. And Jesus is letting me raise them. PROACTIVE!

2012 is going to be a great year. Intentionally. You'll see. YOU'LL ALL SEE! : )

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

Some Christmas Ponderings

1) Rudolph: Why is Rudolph's dad such a sexist pig? We watched that movie the other night...you know...the classic one from the 50's? And Rudolph's dad is kind of a jerk. He's rude to Rudolph because his nose glows so he makes him cover it up so he's not embarrassed in front of his other buck friends. Then he gets mad when the fake nose falls off after Rudolph leaps for joy that the young doe likes him...not to mention the fact that he doesn't even give him props for his first moment of flying. So...Rudolph runs away encountering a "misfit" elf and they venture off together in search of acceptance. Bleh. Meanwhile, back at Christmas Town (that's where Rudolph is from...don't you know) Mrs. Rudolph's mom wants to go in search of her poor sweet son but the sexist husband stops her and tells her "no...this is man's work" Direct quote. Wow. So she does what any self respecting wife would do and goes anyway after he leaves and takes the sweet doe with her. So now, she has gone against her husbands wishes and kidnapped a minor in the process. Ahem. Finally...a few antlers later...they all get caught up together in the cave of the monster...the abominable snowman. Rudolph and his buddies end up being the heroes (of course). And it turns out that the beast isn't so vicious after all...apparently he just had a toothache. "Time to get the women folk back to Christmas Town" yep. Another direct quote. So they get the women folk back to Christmas Town where everyone is sorry because they've realized how beneficial Rudolph's nose is in a storm. The end.

*I don't think I like this movie but then my heart tells me that I do. I feel ponderous on this...

2) Fudge: Yum. My mom makes the best fudge in the world. I say that with the utmost confidence. If she participated in a Fudge Judge she would win the blue ribbon and probably a $25 gift card to Applebees. My problem is I can't stop eating it. I think I have gained 10 lbs of fudge weight. Merry Christmas hips and thighs!

3) Kathie Lee Gifford Christmas Special: I just recommended this to my friend Nate. He looked at me in disgust and horror. Why Nate? Why do you despise the Kathie Lee Gifford Christmas Special? There's puppets and singing and dancing...what could be better than that? Get it. Watch it. I'm pretty sure it's on sale at the Dollar Tree.

4) Shopping: Ugh. I hate it. I like it. I hate it. I kind of like it...THERE'S TOO MANY PEOPLE! They push past me smelling of beef stick and cheese and sometimes BO. They touch me. Gross. They look at me with beady eyes if I'm in the same section of the store. LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T EVEN WANT THAT $20 TOASTER ANYWAY! Yikes! Online shopping. Sigh. It's magical. Got most of my shopping done that way this year. It was delightful. The husband and I tag teamed on Black Friday. He sat in his underwear...let's be honest it's his favorite thing to do...while I was out braving the madness that is BLACK FRIDAY (say this with an echo). I had my gloves (it was cold outside for goodness sakes) and my list and he had his computer. And we both had cell phones. Woot! So I would find a deal and call the husband, then he would look it up on amazon (God bless amazon) and then we would get the best deal. It was like we were giving it back to all those in charge of the shopping frenzy! TAKE THAT CEO! Is what my husband would yell to the heavens every time we got the better deal. I love him. He's cute. Shopping done.

5) The High Bed: The husband built a platform bed for the boy for Christmas this year. He built it because 1) you can't find good ones 2) If you find a good one it's only at Pottery Barn and costs $1,000,000 So...the conclusion was to build it ourselves. The love is very good at this. He built our bed too. Did you know he was so talented? Did you? It's cuz I give him sugar (actual sugar...don't be gross). So...the bed is built. And it is LARGE. 10 feet tall to be exact. He asked me if I thought he should cut it down a bit and I'm pretty sure my exact response was "Ummm...yes." So he took off a foot. It's still huge. Luckily the boy has really high ceilings. I hope this wasn't a mistake. What if he's afraid to sleep in it? That would be sad. And a little funny. But he wants one so bad and has asked for a high bed a gazillion times. We aim to please. Yep. A high bed he shall receive. On a sidenote: please remember that this is a Christmas present and the boy will not see it until Christmas morning. Just in case the 5 of you reading this have any kind of interaction with my kid. Why would you want to spoil a kid's Christmas surprise? Gosh!

6) Christmas Cards: I was off for a week and still couldn't find the time to get them done!! Blurg you Christmas Cards! My family's cute, we're awesome doing great...blah blah blah. There. Now you have a Christmas card (insert mental image of my cute family here...now take off our Santa hats. We would never do that) Maybe one day I will grow up and manage to send out Christmas Cards to the masses. Sigh.

7) Fudge: I think I will go have a piece of fudge right now. Seriously...can't stop eating it. You don't need to judge me...I JUDGE MYSELF! Yum. Chocolatey goodness.

Merry Christmas!

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

PS - Hi Joana

Ear Fishing Sucks

It was the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house

The children were all crazy and wrestling about...

So...it really was the night before Thanksgiving when it happened. Ugh.

You know those Go Fishin' games? I hate that game. I thought I loved it. I bought the game for the boy because I remember loving that game as a kid. But now I see the truth...those beady eyes and snapping mouths. The surprisingly sharp fishing poles that twist and turn in weird ways. The click clack sound as it spins around and around and around. Those beady eyed fish always getting knocked and spilled out of their little holes in the "water" leaving pieces of mouths to be picked up and put back in their homes. Blurg! Buying that game was my first mistake.

Back to Thanksgiving Eve...we were all just wrestling and playing about. I was holding the baby, who was holding one of those darn fishing poles. Letting him hold one of those...that was my second mistake. The husband came up and was tickling the baby. Amidst the laughter and joy I felt a horrendous, stabbing pain coming from my right ear. I don't really remember what happened after that. I don't know if I dropped the baby. If I set him down. If the husband took him from me. I just remember crying and holding my ear. I thought he stabbed my eardrum. It was THE WORST PAIN I HAVE EVER FELT...including any part of the birth of my two children. Somehow, the baby managed to go ear fishing...and I think he won. I don't know how it happened or if we could even ever make it happen again. FLUKE. WEIRDNESS. Yep...that fishing pole stabbed into my ear and the hook caught in my ear canal and then ripped flesh on the way out. Praise Jesus I could still hear. But blood did ooze out. And it freaked me out. And it freaked my husband and kids out. They stood around me in a semi-circle...wide eyed with awe at what the heck just happened. They were all very cute and very sweet. My boys :)

IT

HURT

BAD

YIKES!

I threw the game in the trash. I do not endorse or support this game. I didn't like it before the ear fishing event. But I completely loathe it now.

Ear fishing sucks. And it's also dangerous.

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

PS - the inner canal of my ear...you know the dark part that you can't see...has a huge scab and still hurts...just so you know.

Who Knew?

Last December we suddenly realized that Christmas had whizzed past us so quickly that many of the Christmas-y type things we love to do either got overlooked in the bustle and craziness or got done half-heartedly because we were too scattered to breathe for a minute and enjoy those Christmas-y things we love. So we made a decision one year ago to take a week of vacation in December.

Best

Decision

Ever

Today brings day 3 of our week to an end. Sigh. It has been magical. We haven't traveled. We haven't done anything spectacular. We've just been...together, relaxing, at home. Every morning we have breakfast and enjoy our Christmas tree without having to rush out the door. GO! GO! GO! Sometimes I feel like some sort of coach. But not this week. This week we are still. And lazy. And still in our pj's until bedtime (today anyway). And it's magical.

So far we have...

1) Cleaned the house: praise Jesus! And I mean really cleaned. All the deep stuff. There's nothing hotter than a husband cleaning baseboards. 1,362 Clorox wipes later...the house is clean :)

2) Done laundry: praise Jesus! We were all down to the last resort underwear...chonies...skivvies...you know what I'm talking about. The kind that get shoved in the back of your drawer cuz they just don't share the same comfort level but you keep them for just in case type situations? Yep. That was us. And the exciting news is...all the laundry has been put away! It's a Christmas miracle.

3) Made ornaments: this was messy and required a lot of clean up so that the aforementioned cleaning did not go to waste and make mommy want to shout "I JUST CLEANED UP THIS MESS 5 MINUTES AGO!" to anyone that would listen. But not this week. :)

4) Made cookies: Also messy...but totally worth it. YUMMY! SLURP! GULP! Snowman heads with frosting are good...

5) Made dinner 3 nights in a row: All the working moms out there know how grand this is.

6) Went on a light hunt: It's tradition! We get hot chocolate and drive around looking for light spectacles. It's super. Maybe we will get to do it twice this year :)

Vacation in December...who knew?

Now I know.

Amazing.

I think it will become a Withey tradition...

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

Some Things...

Here are some things...

Today I have prom nails. Yep. I got me some fakesies. Now I can rawr people with so much more meaning :)

But that's not the big news today. The big news is that the baby is walking! Yay! He's 15 months old. I guess he's kinda slow :) FINALLY! No more crawling on the dirty nasty ground. No more rug burned knees and tops of feet. No more fighting him to stay in my arms when he wants to follow brother out in public places...wait...this actually may still occur. Still. I HATE CRAWLING! And I'm so happy that he's walking.

Tonight the husband had CMT on. It was some redneck show featuring some crazy redneck dudes (no offense to rednecks reading this blog) who were doing some stupid redneck stuff. About 5 minutes in I felt real angry. I seriously wanted to punch one of those rednecks in the face. Why do rednecks make me angry tonight? Husband says I'm prejudice but if I heard one more twang, or squeal or shotgun or pig snort or truck backfire I might have punched my husband in the face. So...he turned it off. God bless him. I guess I just couldn't handle some redneck goodness tonight. Maybe it's hormones. Yep. Let's blame the hormones...

Speaking of hormones. I WANT SOME CHOCOLATE!

Tonight at bedtime the husband and I were performing the nighttime routine with the boy and he leaned in to me and whispered, "mommy, can you ask Daddy to leave my room so you and me can spend some time together?" and then he shot me the eyes. Those baby blues. So when we were done I spent some extra time with him. He must have needed it and soon there might be times when he won't want it. Sigh. I love that kid.

Why does the first toilet seat cover always rip or tear or fall into the toilet? I always have to use 2! Even though there are clear instructions written right there on the case...first pull up, then pull down...you've seen it. You've read it. You've ripped it and had to get a second one. As if those instructions: 1) ever change 2) are ever useful 3) actually work

Those are some things...

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

Soup Time

I was told by my son that I am the best soup maker ever. I just thought that everyone should know.

I love soup. My son loves soup. A lot. A whole lot. His favorite is broccoli cheese. I know. He's weird for a four year old. He also loves crab. And shrimp. And vegetables. I love him.

So. It's fall. And fall just calls out for soup nights. I am happy to oblige. The latest soup? Squash. Yum. It's creamy and delicious. Here's my recipe. It's super easy.

2 Butternut Squash

2 Acorn Squash

1 stick butter

1 onion - diced

2 boxes Chicken Broth

Heavy whipping cream

Cut both kinds of squash in half and scoop out seeds. Place squash, flesh side up, on a cookie sheet covered in tinfoil (the tinfoil just helps with the clean up...I'm kinda lazy). Drizzle squash with olive oil and then generously sprinkle sea salt, garlic and pepper all over the squash. Pour a little water on the bottom of the pan and cover with tinfoil. Bake at 400 for 1 hour - 1 1/2 hours. Squash should be soft enough to scoop out easily.

*Acorn squash will cook faster then the butternut

About 10 min before squash is done place a stick of butter in a big pot. Add diced onion to melted butter. Cook until onion is translucent. Add chicken broth and simmer. Scoop out flesh of squash and add to the broth mixture. Add about 1/2 quart of heavy whipping cream (or more depending on how naughty you are feeling). With a stick blender, blend the soup until creamy but still with some texture. (If you don't have a stick blender you could transfer to a regular blender and then back to the pot but that's a lof of work and a lot of clean up so I woud just mash it with a spoon or whisk as best as I could...chunky soup never hurt anyone!)

Serve with freshly grated parm cheese. Super.

This is our favorite soup right now so I thought I would share the love. :)

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

The Almost Syndrome

Mommy, are we there yet? Almost

Mommy, is it time for a nap? Almost

Mommy, did I smack you across the face with my light saber? (sigh) ALMOST

The almost syndrome. Motherhood often finds itself at the mercy of the ALMOST. Equally at the mercy of the ALMOST are the children at the receiving end of the ALMOST. ALMOST. ALMOST. ALMOST. ALMOST. ALMOST. ALMOST. Did it stop sounding like a real word yet?

I sit here and think about how often I use the word almost. Last week for instance. I almost peed my pants when my husband and son returned from Walmart and I discovered that the boy had somehow managed to get past me wearing shorts and cowboy boots. Not that I have anything against either one. And let's be honest, he was going to Walmart. But...he also has a rash covering his entire body because he somehow contracted 5th disease. Yay! If someone's mother only ALMOST took their kid to school with 5th disease then my son wouldn't have contracted the crazy, red, splotchy looking disease. Stop staring at me! And my son! So help me! Phew. That felt good :)

I almost didn't eat that donut today. But I did.

I almost did not freak out when my air turned up to 74 today. But I did.

I almost did not watch the entire Samantha Who series on Netflix in two days. But I did.

I almost bought a basketball hoop at a garage sale for $25. But I didn't. Blurg you husband!

I've had an entire day of almosts before. It's not a pleasant kind of day. It's the kind of day where you almost get out the door on time, but one of the lovelies goes poop and you have to clean it off of you, their legs, their ankles, their back, their neck and their hands (because somehow in the clean up they managed to reach down and grab a handful of the wretched stuff)...making you 20 minutes late out the door. Shucks. ALMOST!

Then comes lunch. A blessed part of the day...usually. Until an appointment shows up and you don't get to eat until 2 at which point everyone has eaten without you, so you eat in your office by yourself. ALMOST!

And then work is over and you pick up your kids. You've planned ahead and have the meal all planned out. So you get home and start cooking. Everything is almost ready and the children start falling apart. The baby only had a half hour nap at school so he is grumpy and hungry and falls completely apart while you're trying to feed him pasta that he DOESN'T WANT TO EAT! So you give up and take him to bed. Meanwhile, your four year old (also tired and hungry) is falling apart because...actually, who knows why...and is sobbing in the bathroom. Also meanwhile, your husband is at the store because you almost remembered to buy bread for the dinner, but you didn't. So you have sent him out and are now regretting that decision because everyone has had a meltdown while you are just trying to feed your family a nice dinner. ALMOST.

ALMOST. Such an unpredictable word. And sometimes rude.

But it doesn't count if it's an ALMOST. So just declare a do-over and start again :)

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

Lola. Period.

I feel ashamed. And sad. And horrified. That it has been exactly 9o-ish days since I have posted. To my 5 faithful readers. I am sorry. But I am more sorry that 3 months have gone by without even a word written about the funny-ness that is my life. The children. The husband. The dog. There is always some sort of chaos. Trust me.

For example. Two days ago the air conditioning in our house went out. I was home with the boys that day and realized the house was getting gradually warmer. At first I was deep in the throes of denial and thought it was just because I had made scones and the oven had been at 425 for a good hour. Combined with the fact that this is Vegas and it's exactly 210 degrees outside. As the day went on the house got warmer. And I got grumpier. I decided it was best to call the hubs.

So I did. And he called our Home Warranty. And they called out a repairman. Who couldn't come until the next day. Sometime between the hours of 8am to 6pm. Lovely.

One sleepover at my sister's house and 10 scones later...our air was fixed and all was well with the world again.

Until Lola started her period. At my sister's house while I was at work. (insert evil mwahahaha here). My sister said she had PMS. Poor Lola. Poor sister. Lucky me :)

The boys are big. Baby Z turned one while I've been away from this lovely blog. One. Did I mention he turned one? Remember how I just gave birth to him yesterday? Seriously. He is still cute. But feisty. Yep. The sweet, laid back, easy-going Baby Z has now entered the "scream and throw a fit when he doesn't get his own way" phase. It's SUPER FUN! Lots of thrashing and crying...mostly from me. He's just strong willed and super smart. That's what we tell ourselves anyway. It somehow makes us feel better. For a minute.

Yep. Parenting. It's a challenge. And each day is filled with that one question every parent is seeking the answer to...

WHAT THE CRAP AM I DOING? :)

More to come. I need a scone.

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

Tennis + The Ice Cream Man = MAGIC

Today we "played" tennis with the children. All of them. The boy, Baby Z, Niece and Nephew. It was interesting. Have you ever played tennis with a baby on your hip? I have.

I use the term "played tennis" in the loosest sense of the word. There was a lot of running after the balls, missed hits, re-dos, do-overs and wanderings into the desert in search of tennis balls gone missing. But it was fun. Except that I forgot to feed Baby Z before we left. So my usually incredibly happy, non-cranky baby was fussy and sad and WANTED HIS MOMMY! That's what he shouted at me from the sidelines (in his head anyway...I just know it). Poor baby. I am quite certain that I will win Mommy of the Year for 2011. What? That's a real award isn't it? So I played with him on my hip for the last half hour we were there. My left bicep is bulging with muscular-ness.

When we first arrived we had the entire court...there were two of them. And then some older men arrived and started staring at us. So I offered to move us all to one court so they could have the other. They were appreciative. I'm nice.

They were almost as bad as we were but my nephew was very impressed with their skills. Just after I thought to myself how cute these two old men were and also how bad they really were at playing...he busted out (loudly, I might add) "whoa...they're good." I am pretty sure I saw one of the old men smile. They played better after that. Maybe they're tennis self-esteem got boosted. That would be swell. Cuz they were cute. And nice. And retrieved the 4,678,987 tennis balls that we sent into their court. Thanks old guys!

And then we were leaving and I heard it. Actually the boy heard it first. The ice cream man. Suddenly, I felt like I was 6 years old again and was filled with joyful glee that the ice cream man was coming. The kids and I...ah hem...I mean JUST the kids were all jumping up and down yelling "It's the ice cream man!" Suddenly I found myself looking at the husband asking for a treat from the ice cream man. I'm pretty sure I didn't need his permission but it sure felt like it in the moment. I love when I get to feel like a kid again.

Everything about the ice cream man is the same. The emotions. The smile it brings. The need to buy a deliciously cold treat. The music (hum it with me). The snow cones. Ahhhh...the snow cones. So we got ice cream from the ice cream man (it was actually a woman but ice cream woman just doesn't have the same kind of ring to it). It was before dinner. Again...I'm holding my breath for that Mom of the Year Award. :) It was delicious.

I love tennis. And more importantly...I love the ice cream man. It was a magical time.

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

The Drive By Glance

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I was wandering around an almost closed Target. The site that was before me was not ok. I suddenly realized I rushed out the door without one thought of my appearance.

-Disheveled pony tail

-Stained t-shirt

-Yoga pants (please note: I have done yoga twice in the last month...and they're a bit tight...probably because I have only done yoga twice in the last year...I mean month)

-Flip flops

It would have been embarrassing if I had the energy to care. But I just didn't.

I was in the clothes section, looking at all of the new cute spring time things they put on the shelves and onto plastic hangers and that's when it happened. The drive by glance. Ugh. Target, on purpose I am sure, hides their mirrors. They are nestled in between racks of mini skirts, too tight t-shirts, and shelves of cardigans. To make matters worse, I was in that front section of the Target clothes. If you're anything over a size 8, you know the section I'm talking about. The part of the clothes that is the closest to the door, you know...where all the cute stuff is?...it's sized for one demographic only. The teeny-bops (that's what my dad calls them. It used to drive me crazy...when I was one of them. Now...I see his point. Well said dad!). I am a teeny-bop NO MORE! I have birthed TWO CHILDREN GOSH DARN IT! This girl's got some hips. So I shop from the middle back (you know...in between the teeny-bops and the maternity), and I'm ok with it. But tonight, the long dresses were in that front section. And summer is coming. Let's be honest...it's my summer wardrobe option of choice.

And that's when the drive by glance happened. Just after I finished looking at the dresses. I wasn't feeling too bad when I left my house. How can one glance, into that darn mirror, change my opinion in a matter of seconds? I got over it. In a matter of seconds. But I was still very aware that I should leave the store immediately...before the townspeople came rioting...but I finished up my shopping with my head held high(ish). There were only like 3 other customers in the store...AND 1,000 workers who all decided to be nice and ask if I needed anything. They probably felt sorry for me. I'm pretty sure I heard one of them whisper "Ahhh...bless her heart"

I would like to say that I will NEVER go to Target like that again. But I am quite certain that I will :)

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

She's No Muerte...

Muerte was the name of our first dog. He was extraordinary...and part human. He understood full sentences. He knew when it was appropriate to bark and when it wasn't. He didn't need a leash. He knew our names. He was loyal. He was cuddly...but not needy. He was independent. He went everywhere with us. He was a "chihuahua" (in air quotes because he was very un-chihuahua in mannerisms). He was family. He was one of a kind. He was awesome and His name was Muerte. That means death in Spanish. We realize this. It's sort of an indicator of our sick sense of humor.

He passed away last June. I was 8 months pregnant. If you know anything about being pregnant you understand why this is an important fact to point out. He had liver cancer. Ugh. I hate cancer. He was only 8 years old. Poor dog. Poor us. It was one of the saddest days we've ever had.

The boy in particular had a very hard time with this. And still does. Every once in a while he will ask me, "Mommy. Has Jesus made Muerte better yet? Can he come home now? I miss him." Oh...so sad. He was in LOVE with that dog. The first day that we brought the boy home from the hospital he was in his bassinet next to the couch. And Muerte sat on the arm of the couch right next to him and didn't move. He had immediately accepted the boy as family and had made a vow to protect him...at least in my mind that's what he was doing. It was unbelievable. For the next month or so, Muerte did not move from the boy's side. He went everywhere that the boy went. Good dog.

So...when he passed it was VERY difficult on all of us. We weren't even sure what to do. The boy was so sad. We were sad. So...we thought getting another dog might help. So we did. Her name is Lola. And she is NO Muerte. She is the same breed...a deer head chihuahua. We got her for free (that story is crazy but not for this blog).

She's cute. She's sweet. She barks at inappropriate times. She's cuddly...and NEEDY. She's almost the exact opposite of Muerte. For months I called her "not Muerte" instead of by her name. Perhaps this played into her neediness and insecurity. She just has no self esteem. She crawls up to my face and looks at me with these "do you still love me?" kind of eyes. Perhaps she's not so different from a lot of girls seeking relationship? Is that weird? That I just took it there? Oh well. If you're reading this and you're one of THOSE girls. Just stop. Have some self pride and self worth...for the love of all that is good and holy! :)

I'm trying my best to love and accept her into our family. But she's no Muerte...

Poor Lola. She has no chance of matching up to him. She could try a little harder though...yeesh. She doesn't need a leash though! So that's good. Hmmm...

Lovesandboy,

Bekah

PS – maybe it’s because she used to be a showgirl…

Cheese Chips

I ended the day with cheese chips. They are delightful. And somewhat embarrassing.

Recipe:

1 Handful of Lays Potato Chips

1-2 Slices American Cheese

Take that handful of tato chips (sigh) and place them on a plate, spread out evenly. Tear the american cheese into pieces and spread out on top of the chips. Microwave for 30 seconds. Eat it.

American cheese is the key to this super fabulous (and a tad bit ghetto) recipe. Good ol' american cheese. It's processed. It's yellow. It's melty goodness. You don't need to judge me! You don't even know me! :) Go ahead and judge...I love my cheese chips enough to ignore the judgmental stares...

It was a tasty end to a lovely day.

The day started off at 10:30 am. That's right. 10:30 am. I am happy about this. The boy had a sleepover with his best friend and the baby only woke briefly at 8:30 for a quick bottle and then went back to sleep...allowing the love and I to sleep until 10:30. Perfection. Sweet, lovely, NEEDED, perfection. The mom of the boy's best friend, called us at 10:45. This was either because she was concerned that we would not return to pick up our boy, or she was calling to see if we still wanted to go to the snow as we discussed the night before. Phew. It was the latter. I'm thankful we are such great friends or CPS might have gotten a phone call.

So...we went to the snow. The boy and the husband had a blast. I had a blast watching them. For a minute. Until...

*A brief side note to any other parents out there: DO NOT bring an 8 month old to the snow. There is no where to put them down (so that mommy can go sledding) and they get bored, cold and fussy pretty quickly. And my baby is practically a saint. Just trust me.

So. That was interesting. And now we know. But it was still fun. Because that's how we roll.

And then everyone crashed in the car. Except the love. He was driving. God bless Him.

Naps, dinner and a movie...was the rest of the evening for the boys.

Nap, dinner and a movie (Adventures of Sharkboy and Lava Girl...which kind of deserves it's own blog. Seeing it NEVER, would have been enough for me), made cookies for the boys and then I ended the day with cheese chips. You should try them. You're welcome in advance.

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

Poots

Poots. That's what we call poo, poop, poo poo, feces...in this house. It started with my nephew and has just kind of stuck. We all say it. All the grown ups included...

Two days ago, I arrived home in the evening. Pulled Baby Z out of the car like any normal day. And then it happened. I felt the warm squish against my skin and froze. Gross. And then I smelled it. Ick. And then I looked down. Yep. Poots. All over my hands. On this particular day there was poots on my hands, on my arms and a big hershey kiss left on my shirt. Husband was not home...thank you love! So my hands were covered in poots, I was carrying my purse and the diaper and bag, a baby dripping with poots and somehow needed to get in the house and shut the garage door. I was so thankful for the boy! He was a champ! He helped me get in the house, got a towel and washcloth for Baby Z and a big ziploc so I had a place to dispose of the mess...making faces and gag noises the whole time...but at least he helped :)

The poots was everywhere. Awesome.

So I got him cleaned up. Bathed. Clothes rinsed out...which in and of itself is a spectacular task. The chunks run down the drain and you feel yourself gagging...just trying to hold it together. Then I got myself cleaned up and both boys in bed...an hour and a half after we got home. Exhasuting.

So...last night. I arrived home and pulled Baby Z out of the car like any normal day. This time I was more cautious. The memory of the previous evening was still lingering in my brain. So I carefully lifted him out of the car. This time I smelled it first. And then I felt it. Ugh. Seriously? Two nights in a row? Two poots nights in a row...and both of them without the husband? How does he get so lucky? And tonight...the boy stayed with his daddy. So...no help at all. Awesome. Poots everywhere. Again. And tonight...it was all in the car seat too. So I did what any good wife would do. I decided that I would leave the cleaning of the car seat for my love. I wouldn't want to rob him the opportunity to bless my life. You're welcome husband :)

So...I got baby Z cleaned up. Again. It was fantastically gross. And smelly.

Off to eat lunch! :)

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

This is Just the Beginning...

Today was an amazing day.

Today was an extraordinary day.

Yep. It was.

Lately, the boy has been asking a lot of questions about death and how it relates to Jesus and heaven...all the normal questions. Our dog, Muerte, died last June and I think he is just now starting to process that death. He asks me periodically when Muerte will come home and I respond with the usual, "he's with Jesus buddy. He got sick and Jesus made him all better. He lives in heaven now." (Don't judge my theory that ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN...maybe not all of them...but certainly the awesome ones, like Muerte) He would usually respond with the usual "oh..." But lately, that answer isn't sufficient for him and he keeps probing for more answers.

It started a week ago when we were at the vet with Lola, our new "NOT MUERTE" dog. And the boy, out of the blue, said "Mommy, I miss Muerte. Did Jesus make him better yet? Can he come home now?" And I looked at him and said, "Buddy, Muerte is with Jesus...remember. He is gonna stay there. Jesus is taking care of him." And he looked at me with those melt your heart baby blues, tears welling up and said, "FOREVER?" (insert that high pitch, squeaky, holding back tears voice here...ugh).

We moved past it that day, but today the questions (and a few tears) started again on the car ride home. So I took the opportunity to really tell the boy about Jesus and what he did for us. Why we get to go heaven when we die. What it's going to be like. And that all we have to do is ask Jesus into our hearts and we get to go to heaven with Him forever. He liked this conversation and was very intrigued. So I asked him, "would you like to ask Jesus into your heart?" And he immediately replied with, "no...maybe when we get home." Which I thought was the cutest response. But I'm a mom. And I can't help myself. So we talked some more and then I asked him again. And this time the whole thing clicked in his little head. And he said, "ok mommy! Sure!"

So on the way home, in the car, my boy asked Jesus into his heart. I will NEVER forget the sound of his little voice asking Jesus to come into his heart.

Oh.

My.

Goodness.

Pure, sweet and innocent. I am so thankful God allowed me the opportunity to be the one to pray that prayer with him. After we prayed I told him that I was 4 when I asked Jesus into my heart and his smile filled his face as he said, "I'm 4!"

So at bed time tonight we were engaged in our usual cuddles, songs and tickles and I told him I was so proud of him. He smiled and said, "Cuz why?" So I said, "Cuz you're amazing, and you love Jesus, and you have a good heart and I love you." And he responded with, "I know something else. Cuz I asked Jesus into my heart today." Ahhhh...he got it. He actually understands. How amazing and cute is that? My heart melted. "Yes you did. And I am so proud of you for that." And then he smiled.

I pray every day that my boys will serve Jesus every day for the rest of their lives. This is just the beginning. They're gonna be world changers those boys of mine.

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

Take the Plunge...and Shove It

Plungers.

That's what is on my mind today. Probably because I had to use one. Ugh.

I HATE plungers. They are gross. And disgusting. And make me want to throw up. I can't even think about how many germs and funk that has made a cozy home for itself on the inside and the outside of the plunger.

So you clog a toilet...I mean...we have all done it on occasion. You don't need to be embarrassed.

So you clog a toilet and reach for it.

You grab the handle and wince.

And then cry.

And then hold your breath.

And then that's when it happens. You take it and plunge it (see why they call it a plunger now?) and shove it into a rising mess of water, pee, toilet paper....and yes...something else (it floats and it's brown...eeeww). And then you pump that thing up and down until there's a release. And you stop holding your breath right about now, as you breathe a deep sigh of relief that the mess inside the toilet did not come spilling out and onto the floor. (This relief is particularly spectacular when you are in someone else's home). And then you wait for the gulp...you know what I'm talking about...the sound the toilet makes as the mess descends into the plumbing abyss and you know it's gone forever. Sigh.

But then...you're still left holding the handle of this thing, and you are suddenly very aware that this thing was completely engulfed in your *uh hem* and you have to do something with it. So you flush the toilet and give it a few pumps in the "clean water" and politely place it next to the toilet (trying your best to avoid drips getting on the toilet seat, wall, floor or your clothes...definitely not on your clothes).

*On a sidenote, public plungers are the worst! You reach for this thing in desperation and then realize that many other hands have touched the very same handle. And then you realize...you didn't wash your hands before you touched this thing. And you...just...went...and then wiped. How many other people have done the very same thing? Ugh. (insert gagging noises here).

And then you walk away...hoping that no one finds out that you had to use the plunger. You avoid eye contact with anyone entering the bathroom as you are exiting. If you're lucky enough to be in the privacy of your own home, you try to pretend that it never happened. Or you blame the 3 boys that live there...I mean...oops.

Plungers.

Gross.

Disgusting.

Necessary.

Ugh.

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

In N Out...yummm

In N Out...Yum.

It's the goodness of my youth.

It was the special treat on youth camps or vacations because they did not yet exist in Las Vegas...only California. I remember it being the highlight of those trips. Yes...I have always loved food :) Big surprise...

I think I was in college when they finally got In N Out here in town. It was a good day. Actually...it was an awesome day. The juicy goodness. The all natural ingredients. The bible verse on the cups. The fries...let us all pause for a moment of silence.

And we're back...

My husband might, in fact, be their #1 fan. He is filled with joyful glee whenever we go to there...so when we were trying to figure out where to eat on our family day and the boy shouted out "HOW BOUT IN N OUT?" It took only seconds for us to be in the car and on the way to our juicy, cheesy, onion-y, all natural (it makes me feel better to mention it) goodness that awaited us at our In N Out.

We were, of course, loud and obnoxious as I anxiously searched for a booth. Why is it that no matter what time of day it is there are exactly one million people at In N Out?

There is always a line. There is always a stare down with another family for the next available table (I can assure you that I always win...and I say that in the most humbleway possible). There is almost always an elderly person sitting by themselves and we always become instant friends. I can't help myself. I just love old people. And I hate to see them sitting alone. So we become friends and they sit and talk with us while we have lunch. This particular day, I am sad to say, there were no old people. But we managed to have a good time anyway :)

See how happy he is? And then he slowly goes into an In N Out coma...it's a happy place...don't worry. You should try it sometime.

Baby Z was, of course, an angel. And the boy...well...he's my boy. He's fun, and active and loves his milkshakes. How did I get to be the luckiest lady on the planet?

In N Out...I can smell the french fries calling me. If you haven't ever ordered them well done, I highly recommend it. Yummmm...

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

We Are Not Fancy So Much

Today was Valentine's Day.

Heart shaped Pancakes for the boy. check

2 hour nap for the boy. check

3 hour nap for baby Z. check

Free babysitting for the boys (thank you parents!). check

A super fantastical evening with the love. check

We have never really been into Valentine's Day but I have to say...this year's was super. My mom is one of those crazy (and by crazy I mean crazy awesome) grandma's who makes a big deal about every holiday with her favorite people on earth...the grandkids. Sometimes I wish I was her grandkid. So a Valentines party was planned (complete with heart shaped everything, balloons, presents, chocolate...why do they even want to come home?). Seeing that we were not invited to this event...grandkids only...we went on a date. Dinner with my sis and bro-in-law (shrimp on a stone...yummmm). And then a movie. Cheesecake Factory deliciousness to go. Thursday night shows goodness...Community, The Office, 30 Rock, Parks and Rec & Outsourced (it's my favorite TV night...don't judge me. You don't even know me!) It was delightful and perfectly sweet. We are, however, not fancy so much. And I like that about us. I pretty much like everything about us.

I like that we don't have to get fancy to know the evening is special.

I like that we still hold hands.

I like that we stop holding hands before they start to sweat.

I like that we laugh at stupid things together.

I like that we both are getting old.

I like that we are best friends.

I like that we make cute kids.

I like that I still like spending time with him.

I like us.

Happy Valentine's Day

Lovesandboys,

Bekah

Happy Booger Sunday!

I had to take baby Z to the all night Pediatric Care last night. He's been struggling all week with sinus and congestion (translate: boogers, cough and snots) but yesterday he all of a sudden broke out into a fever. So, we did what most good parents do in this situation. Put him to bed early to see how things would go. He went down at 7 and woke up every 20 minutes moaning or crying until 11 when I finally decided to just take him in.

Husbands are of no use in these situations. I mean...God bless him. He's incredible. But his answer to "should I take him in?" is almost always, "nah. Let's wait it out and let the poor kid suffer until his fever spikes so high that he has to go to the ER." Oops...I think I just translated that in my head. Anyway...doing what any good wife would do...I ignored his advice and called my mom. She agreed that I should take him in. Thanks mom! :)

So...an hour and a half later we were on our way home with antibiotics for a double ear infection. I hate to be the one to say it, but I TOLD YOU SO LOVE! I can't even believe that man loves me as much as he does. I am such a nuisance :) But...Baby Z was in bed, with motrin and antibiotics in his system by 1:20am. Poor little dude! I must insert here...that my baby was still a perfect angel and as sweet as ever. I am not kidding you. This kid is a literal angel from heaven. Thank you Jesus!

Here's the fun part. He woke up this morning at about 10:15. Words cannot describe the appearance of my sweet baby boy.

Boogers.

Boogers.

Boogers.

I just don't even know what else to say. Boogers in his eyes. On his eyelids and eyebrows. Boogers on his cheeks. Boogers in his hair. Boogers on his neck. THE giantest (it's a word...look it up) booger I have ever seen COMPLETELY sealing his right nostril. I tried to take a picture really fast with my phone but it just didn't do it justice. I couldn't help but laugh at him. Yes. AT him. I realize what kind of a mother this makes me...I'm ok with this. Poor baby.

Happy Booger Sunday!

Lovesandboys,

Bekah