So I guess I quit blogging.

I didn’t mean to -honestly I didn’t. Blogging, to me, isn’t really blogging at all. I don’t think of it as Blogging. I think of it as “writing” and if a day goes by that I don’t WRITE, I don’t touch base with myself. I start to feel stressed and unbalanced.
Like the biblical Martha of Old, I start to feel careful and encumbered about with many things.
Basically, I hate life.

I have been writing other places which has been good. HOWEVER, the other places I have been writing have been heavy places, and I’ve written about heavy topics, and I’ve felt heavy about the whole thing.
And I know it didn’t help that I was medicating with dark chocolate covered blueberries.
The were packaged to look healthy, but I have a screaming baby that is sending another message… it sounds a lot like, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME MOTHER?!?!”
But anyway.

I’m still grappling with some heavy issues, but it’s time for me to look on my lighter side.
I mean, after all I am the proud mother of three daaaaaahling egg heads:

Who each have gone through a certain phase of constant SHOCK that lasted the entirety of their infant-hood (until their heads grew to match the size of their eyes):

There’s a big SUNNY side of life, and this blog is my Sunny Corner. I shouldn’t let it be for very long. I should always bask in my Sunny Corner.

My Sunny Corner is full of pictures that make you feel good inside:

And it’s the place where I record daily activities I believe will be indispensable to posterity.

Like how on Monday night we taught a Family Home Evening lesson on the meaning of Easter and then Trenton called his sister a sucker… only he changed up the word “sucker” a little bit. It’s a fun thing he likes to do -take root words and silly ’em up a little, Trentify them, if you will… and Monday night he thought it would be super silly to substitute the letter “s” in “sucker” with an “f.”
“Lace, you *$%#@*!”
And I said, “um, what?”
And Lacy said, “Oh, he’s making sucker sound silly…”
And I said, “um, what did you say to make it silly?”
“*$%#@*” he said.

“Okay, kids. Let’s talk about words we shouldn’t say before we say the closing prayer…”

We’re still working on his pronunciation of the suffix “est.”
He pronounces it “assed.”
As in, “That’s the green-assed egg I ever saw!”
Or, my husband’s favorite, “My Dad is the smart-assed!”

*sigh*

See? These things are important. I need to write them down.
And here’s the man of the day with this dye-assed hands.

Hope your Easter was as happy as ours!

Yesterday, the kids and I took a walk on Grandpa’s farm. The sun had just set, and it was making a couple of trees at the west end of Grandpa’s farm look pretty awesome.
Sunday night, I took a walk with the kids in my new stroller (double. running. awesomeness.) and I pointed the trees out to the kids.
“Look!” I said, “See how awesome the naked trees look with the sun wehind them?”
*Note: wehind=behind and naked trees=trees with no leaves on them*
*I’m not the only parent who has started talking like their children. Pommiss.*

“Take a picture!” I said, and handed them my phone. That was a disaster because my son couldn’t figure out how to not put his finger over the lens, and my daughter was simultaneously JEALOUS that he got to go first and PETRIFIED that we were going to get killed by an oncoming vehicle.
But we got this, which isn’t terrible.

Yesterday, Grandpa’s trees looked like that. And I gasped. Loudly.
“What?” My daughter asked.
“Come here,” my voice sounded almost panicked, full of energy and excitement, “Come close! Quick!”
My kids both ran to my side. I crouched down on the ground and pointed toward the trees.
“Loooook. Far beyond the field they live -they wander.”
“Who, Mom?” My daughter asked, her eyes fixed on the distant trees.
“The PEOPLE! who LIVE! in the LAND of the NAKED TREES.”
The kids oooooohed.

“They’re small -as big as as bees. They think we are giants. They never come out…”
“Can we go SEE them?” asked my daughter.
“I don’t want to,” my son was fairly shaking, “That sounds scary.”

“We can’t see them,” I went on, “They dress only in clothes that are the colors of the trees they live in. BUT! We can visit them.”
“I want to! I want to!” Lacy jumped up and down.
“Ugghhhhhh,” Trenton whined.

“Tomorrow we will have a journey. Only brave people take journeys,” I said, “Are you BRAVE?”
“YES!” Lacy cried.
“Yeah…” Trent was unsure.
“We will take some food to The Land of the Naked Trees. We will have a picnic. We will share our food with them. Who will help me make blankets?”
“Me! Me!” The kids said.
And so the date was set. Preparations were made. And suddenly my house was abuzz with The Land of the Naked Trees and the Naked Tree People.
The “naked” applies to the trees and not the people, in case you forgot OR your mind is paddling through the gutter.
Also: if you remember: the naked tree people are dressed in tree colors.

This morning, I powered through an electric breaker issue and made WAFFLES, syrup, and two very small “blankets” for the naked tree people.
I threw an old blanket my husband has tried to throw away so very many times into a big basket, topped it with our food and wedged my camera inside and off we went!
To where?

To THERE.
I had a baby carrier in one hand and a basket in the other.
(“I had a terrible time trying to find a suitable basket.” -Can you name the movie? Can you?)

“Are you BRAVE?” I kept asking.
“YEAH! We are BRAVE!” My son would respond, his binoculars hanging from his neck. He was more sure of himself today -and determined to find some naked tree people.

Our cats are brave too.
Just so ya know.

Lacy ran ahead, ran up the small hill near the naked trees and proclaimed (I kid not), “This is the place!”

We laid down the tired blanket, said a prayer of gratitude, and ate our waffles in the Land of the Naked Trees while the cows watched and baby sucked on her own lip.

There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.

Ah, kids…

After lunch, we went in search of a possible naked tree person sighting.

Lacy swears she saw one (she’s pointing at it with her stick) and she’s pretty sure she found a naked tree person’s egg as well.
I didn’t find any tree people gems, but I did find gems in my memory card when we came inside. Gems like this:

And the kids made sure to find a small clearing between a few dried up camel thorns… they left some waffles on some blankets.

The blankets were green, of course.
The Naked Tree People would have wanted it that way.

Lacy found one of our old engagement pictures and gushed, “Look! Look how young you are! When you come back from heaven you will look like this!”

Lacy really is something else. Really, really. That girl is smart.

And her little sister is showing a lot of personality for such a little thing. It makes for a really fun baby. She refuses to take a pacifier and she won’t suck her thumb… what will she suck? Well…

My husband couldn’t figure out who drew on my lip with a marker.
What a weirdo. What would lead him to believe I would allow someone to draw on me?

Honestly, that man gets the funniest ideas in his head…

His kids are pretty awesome. They all look like him. He has a pretty strong STAMP.

I’m just the vehicle.

And, like I said, I’m really enjoying this baby:

We all are.
I’m enjoying my other kids too… I haven’t forgotten about them.

In fact, just the other day I snuggled up with them on the couch and we watched an early 90’s version of “Hansel and Gretel.” Trenton was horrified. He couldn’t sit through it. He kept hiding under the covers.
“I just hate this, Mom! I hate it so much!”
Lacy watched it twice.
The movie wasn’t nearly as scary as eating tongue which -thanks to Steve -the kids and I did.

We are so daring.
And so darling.

I have been so excited for my little girl to get blessed. I was excited to hear her blessing, to see her in her blessing dress, to see family, to eat food… it was all too much for me and I woke up Sunday morning with terrible nausea. Thank goodness for my essential oils!
I made enough chicken gravy to feed an army that morning (I’m not exaggerating). I used three pounds of butter and 1 gallon of milk and I convinced myself that when it comes to special occasions, butter = love.
I butter my family.
I bathed Alice that morning and snapped this picture which will be whipped out when she’s 17 and her prom date is in the living room waiting for her to finish putting on her prom dress:

I love her after-bath hair.
Family was bustling around my house just before church started, but my bedroom was calm and quiet.
I had a few minutes to dress my baby in her precious blessing dress. My mother, her sisters, her daughters… all had been blessed in this dress. Lacy was blessed in it, and now Alice has been blessed in it as well.

I put her in the dress, and then I just HELD that baby. I looked at her beautiful blue eyes, I kissed her sweet new baby lips, and I cried because Moms can’t help but cry anytime the smallest speck of emotion rises up in their brains.
I felt the reality of daughters, of sisters -my daughters ARE my sisters and my sisters are daughters as well.
Her body, her soul, her spirit: they are all so priceless, so precious, so absolutely perfect.

The day she was born, my mind was screaming. The pain was so intense, the pressure was mind-blowing. Posterior baby all natural? No joke, people.
But despite all of that, Alice was calm. She was 100% calm. Calmness radiated from her brand new body, and every time someone held her for the first time they couldn’t help but notice.
“She is so calm.”
I felt such peace as her father held her and blessed her with the ability to be calm -to have a calming influence throughout her life -to be able to diffuse situations with that gift.

She’s been my baby that has smiled the earliest and the most. She talks more than any of the others. She loves to interact, and she loves social situations. Where there is a lot going on, she is at her calmest. Being at home in silence with nothing going on? She’s one fussy butt babe! I just love that about her.

The luncheon served was Hawaiian Haystacks and salad. There’s was WAY too much food (better than not enough!) and everyone went home full.

Because I don’t buy new blessing dresses for my girls, I’ve made a tradition of buying them an after-blessing dress. Alice’s came in the mail on Friday though it wasn’t due to be delivered until Monday (the day after the blessing). The fact that it came in time is a miracle! a tender mercy!

We had the luncheon at great-grandma Hansen’s house, and it was great!

I just love this little baby so much.
Everyone does. You can’t help it! Just ask Uncle Dusty:

All of my husband’s family was able to be there and it was AWESOME! I really lucked out in the in-law department. No foolin’. I still remember when I was 14 and my husband’s uncle JC (who is a little younger than my husband) had his mission farewell. JC was in my ward. I watched his family file into church and I watched a group of them come up to the microphone and sing a musical number and I remember thinking, ‘Wow, that is one good looking family…’
And then I married one.
It’s how I roll…

And it’s a little off subject, but I should note that my father in law looks like William Holden. It’s uncanny.

I loved this weekend!
I’m slowly recovering.
The house is recovering even more slowly.
And Alice? She’s totally unaware of it all.

It’s all in the family.

For years, I’ve been suspicious that I secretly had what it took to be fully dressed (this means socks AND shoes AND a bra), have make-up on and a clean house all…
AND people would come over unexpectedly.

Yesterday, it actually happened. There’s nothing sweeter than validated suspicions. Ahem, providing those suspicions are sweet and not awful (like “I think my husband is cheating on me”).

As I did laundry yesterday, there was a knock at the door. It was my neighbor from down the road. She’s a grandma with no local grandchildren. My daughter, The One Who Knows No Stranger, simply adopted her.
This brings her total Grandma count to 8. Seriously.
There’s Granny, Grammy, Grandma Hoopes, regglar Grandma, Great Grandma, Super Grandma (yes, that’s a thing), Other Super Grandma (yeah), and Grandma Elsie.
Grandma Elsie came by yesterday and we visited, and it was wonderful.
I was free from the pressing stress of the house, and I was able to just enjoy her company 100%.
I still enjoy company when my house isn’t clean, but I don’t enjoy it 100% because in the back of my mind I’m thinking, ‘uuuuugh… filth.’

Anyway, it finally happened yesterday. And it may never happen again, so please: applaud, or write it in your journal, or send up a hallelujah.

And then check my Muskateers out. They’re the best.

My current tune which I play on repeat and feel soulful. If you need a little validation that you’re cool cat, jam this:

Remember: you don’t have to be current to be cool. You just have to believe in yourself to be cool. Just ask anyone.
(PS: It’s purty near impossible for me to keep up on the current, so I have myself convinced that coolness isn’t about currentness… because a life without coolness just seems too gloomy to stand.)
Now here’s what I love this week:


It’s funnier when your Dad is mechanic and you’ve spent many hours of your childhood discussing life lessons with his legs and pointing a flashlight at his head. Incidentally, you can learn a lot from a hard workin’ man’s legs (not the least of which is never, EVER under any circumstances budge when you’re holding a flashlight for him).

My parents love The Andy Griffith Show (who doesn’t?) and for some reason this picture made me laugh out loud… belly laugh out loud.
blol, if you will. and yeah… I officially hate myself for creating a new slang term. but hey. yolo.

Forgive the near-porness of this image, but I LOVE F. Scott’s talent and wordy creations (he would never stoop to “blol”), and this quote reminds me of Danny Deets and I. I still remember meeting him and feeling like it was, if I can quote Nora Ephron (and I do as often as I can):
“It was like coming home, only to no home I’d ever been before.”
And I should mention that I feel the word “intimacy” means WAY more than sex… because we didn’t fall into that kind of intimacy briskly. Promise, Mom.

Speaking of “intimacy”…

Thanks, Steve for sharing that one.

Happy Wednesday, ya’ll. Come on over if you’d like to take a load off. Today’s laundry day, after all.

 

I still remember the day I saw the commercial.

I was sitting in my living room on the couch, and a woman pointed to her cheekbone and said, “Do you feel oily HERE?”
Yeah, I nodded.
She pointed to her flawless side-burn area and said, “But extra dry HERE?”
YEAH! I nodded.
“Combination skin can be wah wah wah…” It was all a blur after “combination skin.”

I finally had a name for whatever was going on with my face. I would wake up everything morning with a face so oily I would have to wipe it with tissues… but the edges of my face were so dry they were FLAKING OFF, and it was gross. I was in High School, and there was nothing worse than being asked, as a 16-year old, “Hey, what’s wrong with your face?”
My self-esteem was taking a sucker punch to the flaky face.
I still remember lying about my dime-sized zit on my chin to people… “I fell…”

I hate lying.
And now I finally had an answer to the “what’s wrong with your flaky face?” question.
“Combination skin,” I would say and sigh and wave my hand carelessly in the air… like I knew what I was talking about.
“Oh…” the women were always sympathetic and the guys had too much ego to admit they had no idea what combination skin was or meant.

Anyway.
The best products for my skin are Mary Kay products. Hands down.
However: economy, kids, diapers, money, food… I need to use something other than Mary Kay if I want to eat. It comes down to this: I can have flawless, glowing skin or I can eat.
Naturally, food trumps vanity because I’m not 16 anymore.

My face quit flaking when I quit using medication for my acne (which was off the charts, promise), and I’d lately been washing my face with BAR SOAP (I know, I know…) and moisturizing it with a pot of St. Ives Moisturizing Cream.
My hormones have been fluctuating, and I’ve been breaking out. The bar soap wasn’t helping, but what could I do? Nothing. I couldn’t afford to do anything.
And then my brother suggested I try something he’d heard about from our Sainted Aunt Julie (hi!)… you mix olive oil with castor oil and rub it on your face at night only.
It removes your make-up.
You don’t need to wash your face with cleansers. You don’t need moisturizer.

I decided to give it a try, and I had a friend ask me to blog about my results, so I’ll be honest. Very honest.
#1) I still believe Mary Kay is the best product for my skin; HOWEVER, this process comes in second.
#2) I don’t believe I’m the best test subject for this because I still have combination skin. Someone with oily skin or dry skin or normal skin would probably fair better.
#3) I’m saving so much money.
#4) I feel good about knowing what’s going on my skin. There’s not a gigantic list of unrecognizable ingredients in what goes on my face. It’s straight up: EVOO and Castor Oil and a few drops of essential oil (lavender or melaleuca).
#5) If you store the oil mixture in a clear container on your bathroom counter, your husband will assume it’s urine and get a little freaked out.
#6) I once watched a few segments of “My Strange Addiction” in the which a woman was addicted to drinking her urine. She also brushed her teeth in it…
#7) I’m getting off topic.
#8) I have noticed some holes in my face left by old black heads. They seem to “fill up” faster with this oil method which isn’t really a problem because I don’t care about it very much. If I did care, this would be a problem. Oil filled holes in my face? NOT the most attractive thing, but I wear make up. So it don’t bother me none.
#9) My skin feels a little like baby skin.
#10) I can touch my face as much as I want without having to worry about oil and zits and all that nonsense.
#11) I’m saving SO much money since I always keep a vat of olive oil on hand and only paid $3 for castor oil.
#12) I bought my castor oil at Wal-Mart.
#13) I still have acne. It’s manageable and not too bothersome.
#14) I’m going to continue this oil process for the foreseeable future.
#15) My other sainted aunt Julie asked to borrow castor oil and I haven’t forgotten (hi!). I’ll get it to you… I swear!
#16) I am not following the routine like I’m supposed to because I read it wrong and just realized today I’ve been doing it wrong… even so, I’m still relatively pleased with my results.
#17) Some mornings, I have to rub the smallest bit of oil on my face because my skin is too dry. Other mornings, I have to splash a little Witch Hazel on my face because my skin is too oily (combination nation!).
#18) Buy Witch Hazel when you buy Castor Oil. Hopefully you already have Extra Virgin Olive Oil on hand because it is amazing stuff for cooking and massaging and life.
#19) I’m going to start doing this oil routine the EXACT way the woman says to on the website I’m about to link to. And after a few weeks, I’ll report again.
#20) I appreciate going to bed without make-up on every night. Before doing this, I would always fall asleep with make-up on my face because washing my face twice a day dried it out and I was always over compensating with too much moisturizer AND I can’t afford make-up remover.
#21) Make sure you sleep on a pillow case you don’t care about and can be washed frequently… just in case you don’t get all the make up off or some of the oil comes off onto the pillow case.

Here’s my results. Don’t expect to be wowed… but DO expect to be wowed that I’ve been applying OIL directly to my face every night and I currently am NOT sprouting acne everywhere.

If you’d like to try it out, you can get the info by clicking HERE.

It’s recession-friendly.

On Thursday, February 21st, 2013… my baby girl rolled over for the first and second time. The first time, my son saw her. The second time, I saw her, my son saw her, and my daughter saw her.
The third time she rolled over, I was determined to let you see her -I was going to capture the moment!

In order capture a baby rolling, you’ve got to put the baby down.

Once the baby has been placed on it’s belly, it will become discontent.
Do not pick the baby up.
Discontentment is a necessary step in the rolling over process.
Or maybe that’s just an In My Case and Family rule.
Either way:

Now don’t stray far.
Keep that camera steady! It’s nearly time!… ….

Wait for it…
…

…

…

If this should happen -do NOT get deflated.
The baby will wake up.

OR, in My Case and Family, you’ll take this picture… TWO hours later:

I’ll catch this prankster rolling if it’s the LAST thing I do.

Six days ago, I taught Sharing Time. The older group (Senior Primary, kids aged 7-11) were being rowdy and not listening.
I jokingly threw up my hands and said, “Do I not look good today? Am I not pretty enough to look at? No one is looking at me! I even tried half-hard to look nice today!”
A pretty eager-to-please 8 year old girl in the back shot her hand in the air. I called on her.
“I think you look just like a regular mom!” She said.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
My life goal is officially complete. I mean, I always WANTED to be a mom.
I guess.

Yesterday, my daughter pinched my belly fat.
“Are you starting to make another baby?” She asked.

As it happens, I was stressed yesterday -not over the belly pinching, although that didn’t help much. I couldn’t really DO anything about the situation that was stressing me out and the stressed boiled over and I threw it all in my laundry room.
I threw everything OUT of that room, scrubbed, sorted, washed… folded, swept, threw things away.
My house is slowly starting to make a comeback from the Babymoon. Before my stress had it’s way with the laundry room, there were clothes over every inch of the floor.
Literally.
And I MEAN literally. I’m not using “literally” the way it so often gets used now (which is to throw it in literally every sentence. Get it?)… I’m using literally the way it was meant to be used.
My floor was not visible.
It looks GREAT now, and I’m all the healthier for it seeing as how my stress level has been down-graded. This morning, I asked my daughter to please put her coat in the dirty clothes. She emerged from the laundry room and said, “HEY! No squishy!”
“Squishy?” I asked, “What are you talking about?”
“Usually the floor is all squishy with clothes, but NOT TODAY! I just WALKED on the regular FLOOR! Mom, you’re the best!”
I do what I can.
Lacy was also super-thrilled with her outfit today. She’s changed three times this morning. Why?
Because she has clothes to change into.

Between that and the Little Debbie Brownies I gave them last night, I’m sittin’ pretty… too bad they don’t know they’re just about to clean their room.

“Mom, I have the SAME HAIR as Thor. So I AM Thor!”