3 AM rambling.

Okay. I was thinking of so many things last night while laying in bed that I really wanted to sit up and blog about. Because I knew I'd probably forget about most of them by the time today rolled around. But the thing is, it wasn't even last night, it was 3 AM this morning that I was thinking of all these things, and I knew if I sat up and grabbed my laptop to write a blogpost, I'd never get back to sleep. So I didn't do it. I just let the thoughts all run rampant like wild little baby horses in my mind instead of trying to domesticate them into anything organized. I just thought you'd be curious as to how this here blog post was conceived in this brain of mine. That's why I just told you all that just now.

So stop trying to get past this first part and into the point of this post, okay? That first paragraph very well might be the most profound thing I write today. I mean the whole analogy of my thoughts being like wild little baby horses? Come on, it's beautiful! How can I top that?

So here's my effort in taming some of those little horses.

Ahem.

I miss music. I miss music a lot. I don't know if you can relate, but I think I sortof forgot about music. Like I don't even realize how infrequently it occurs to me to turn my music on. The only music I listen to now are Disney classics. And I can't figure out a time to play the piano because there are two midgets yipping at my heels every moment they are awake, and when they're not, the piano is too loud to play during nap time. This all hit me in the middle of the night when I reached over to my Iphone, found Enya, and then realized not only had I not listened to her, but I hadn't even remembered anything about her for like 5 years. I used to feel such passion for music and the piano and singing. I used to know all the latest hits from like every genre of music. Now I'm just a lame mom and take note when there's a new show on Nick Jr.

Is this shift inevitable? Does it have to be this way? I don't think so, because my sister Vanessa is always telling me about the newest cutting edge music. And then I resent her for it because she's a mom of 2 also. In fact, the last time I asked her, "Have you heard Kelly Clarkson's new album?? It's fantastic!" I had just returned from my mission and the year was 2006. That particular album was released in '04. About a month after I had left the country. She still reminds me of that conversation. Oh I'm so sorry Vanessa, I guess I was distracted trying to save souls in a sweaty third world country while you were busy listening to Kelly Clarkson's newest album in your air conditioning. Now whenever I'm tempted to ask her if she's heard so-and-so's new song, I have an anxiety attack because I feel mocking coming on. Oh shut up, shut up Vanessa! You remember I'm your older sister and you show me some respect!!

So why can't I keep up with it all if she can? Plus her mermaid hair, what's with that? I'm lame.

Another thing about it is that some music just doesn't effect me the same way as it used to. Especially the music that I used to turn to for catharsis when a relationship would end. I am very happily married, so how can I relate to the emotions in Incubus I wish you were here when my husband and I live under the same roof? So we're never really apart to begin with. Or Dashboard Confessional Standard lines: 'cus your taste still lingers on my lips like you just pressed them upon mine and I starve... I starve for you... I'm not starving for anything except nutella these days.

PS I just looked up the definition of the word incubus and found the following: An incubus (from the Latin, incubus, or "nightmare"; plural incubi) is a demon in male form who, according to a number of mythological and legendary traditions, lies upon sleepers, especially women, in order to have sex with them.

That's the scariest thing I've ever heard. I'm so creeped/grossed out right now.

Anyway, then these thoughts lead me to conversations about this with my husband. Which leads to me feeling misunderstood. Me: Do you ever miss listening to break up music? And really feeling the music, like, when it used to hurt so bad you couldn't eat or sleep?

Him: (brief pause)...No.... to tell you the truth... I really don't. Me: Well I don't either so that's good. Just makin' sure.

End of conversation.

(Maybe you don't know me personally and you're figuring I was the drama queen type in my single days. Just so you know, I wasn't. Really.)

I don't miss the heartache, like I would never ever want to go back to the emotional rollercoaster of dating. EVER. So I don't know what it is if it's not missing it. But, I'll tell ya, the last time I wrote a song it was the one I sang to Jason at our wedding luncheon. And that was a very happy, very where would I be without you? type of song. I guess I just understand more why celebrity musicians' marriages never last... They have to have really unhealthy and dysfunctional relationships in order to find the inspiration to write songs that are poignant. Because music listeners can't only listen to the where would I be without you type of music. Melancholia = the creation of beautiful artistic expression.

That other kind of music, the non-breakup, mushy music is another blog post another day. I do quite relate to the "I wanna grow old with you" music. Because I do want to grow old with him. I guess I just need to make it a point to listen to it more often and tell Lucy that the Disney classics are gettin' the boot for a while. I'm committing to getting back on the music listening wagon here.

I don't feel like these thoughts are any more organized than when they were swimming around in my head at 3 AM like little white baby jellyfish in the deep blue sea. Somethin' about them little baby animals...

Onto an ACS. (Abrupt change of subject). Scarlett is 10 months old today. Which means she is 2 months away from her first birthday, meaning that there are evil people in the world who will then deem her a toddler and no longer a baby (the evil people at babycenter.com who send me weekly emails). I have to soak her in every single day. She is so sweet and so affectionate. And she'll never be 10 months again the rest of her life. Sigh.

She's still a baby. And will be until I have another newbie in my arms. So just back off babycenter.

And the following shots are the sequence of events that take place if I ever try to get pictures of the two of them together in any kind of posed arrangement. Grrr.

Turns into WWE within seconds.

So candids are all I've got. Love them.

Palm Beach, Florida

For some early Valentine's craziness, we left the babies with my mom and headed down to South Florida to frolic in the ocean waves. And lemme tell ya, we were CRAZY. Lots of making out and groping on the beach with lots of people around... we didn't even care... my husband is SO into PDA it's just nuts. We just can't keep our hands off each other!!

Just kidding. I know you won't believe me when I tell you this, but that picture's not actually us! You're so gullible!! We went down mostly on business (Jason had a conference) and it was rainy about 75% of the time so no frolicking on the beach for us. It was however still in the low 60's and the temperature was simply glorious nonetheless.

So we did have some fancy dinners that went along with the conference but I ashamed to say we didn't get any pictures from our nights out. I know right? I know you're sad but try not to let it ruin your day. We have become those lame parents who cannot remember the camera for the life of us when our children are nowhere near. (Jod, I'm so mad we didn't get any pics of us, especially doing twirls.)

The one day we did take lots of pictures was our last day there. (It's always nice to take the most pictures on the day you don't shower/get ready for the day.) We previously had a couples massage scheduled at the spa for some rest and relaxation when my sweet husband did a little online surfing and found air boat tours across the everglades instead! So with some kissing up (coercing) on his part, I agreed to go. So we drove an hour and a half away from the big city hustle and bustle of the southern Florida coastline. And he assured me it would still be pretty romantic and relaxing, almost like a couples massage.

Indeed it was. As soon as I saw Bill and Robert, I knew it would be.

Robert was our driver and once I asked him to sing us a few songs, the romance really set in. It was basically the same as a gondola ride in Venice. Plus, he told us all about life on the bayou. Told us all about froggin' and fishin' and crawdaddin'.

Remember these frog hunters from the Princess and the Frog?

The similarities were uncanny. Hilarious. We sure love ya Bill and Robert! All joking aside, these kind of people (swamp people) are some of my very favorite people on the planet. I love the simplicity and pace of their lives. And they're just happy as clams.

And into the swamp we rode...

Here below is one of the eeriest sights to behold. Gave me the willies bigtime. Still does. I had somewhat of a Captain Hook reaction.

Jason got a little bold and decided to give this mama an under the chin scratchin'. And then she removed his hand. Totally worth it.

Seriously though, our driver was one crazy sombeech. He has made "friends" with just a handful of the local alligators (out of countless wild ones that reside there) and he feeds them crackers and they let him touch them. He's named them and talks to them as affectionately as anyone would their babies. He would get all skittish though when other boats would come by and told us he'd git in big truh-bo if they knew he was buddies with them gators, and added, "Aa don't know whaa." This one was the smallest one he was petting, about 6 feet long.

I was cowering and literally praying in my head the entire time... Father in Heaven... I know this man's gon' git eaten by wonna these gators sooner or later... please don't let it happen on this here trip and don't let me have to deal with the trauma of watching it. My prayers were heard and we didn't witness any alligator attacks. Bless his heart, Robert.

And look at this little baby. I'm sorry, but baby animals of any kind send me into a gushy funk. This little tyke was no exception. I thought about trying to nurse him... but then remembered he's not a mammal. And then I missed my babies. Would have been an interesting pic for national geographic though.

The husband-wife-get-aways are essential. (I-like-using-as-many-hyphens-as-possible). Even if work is the driving force behind the get-aways. Plus, when we go to the south, my husband starts to have a southern accent. And it's a real turn on. P.S. I have the greatest mother in the world who is the best grammy ever. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

P.P.S. One downside to the trip, I brought home a head cold and everything I eat tastes like cardboard. So I'm gonna go make some cardboard toast now. But don't fret, I'm still feeling very loving and lovable today. Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I hope you're celebrating big, because love is by far the greatest thing in this life. Second is probably nutella.

Social self destruction is my game.

Don't know quite what my deal is. But I'm quite confident that I'm required to put my foot in my mouth a lot more often than you. I'd bet on it if I were a bettin' woman. I'm ridiculous. Remember this little gem of a story? Yeah... I should be kept from conversing with people. At all times.

I went to the gym this morning. I'm not tooting any horn here, it was the first time in several months and I was wheezing and sputtering the entire time on the treadmill going a whopping 4 mph for 20 minutes. Of course I feel embarrassed about going so slow since the old lady next to me is making the earth shake with her olympic sprinting so I have to limp on one leg or something so everyone will think, Wow look how dedicated she is to staying physically active even with a leg injury and they'll admire me a lot. Then I like to lay flat on my back and pretend to stretch out long and hard in between cardio machines (in truth laying down from exhaustion) and when people pass me I say, "This is what my physical therapist says I have to do... with the injury and all... can you believe that guy?!" and let out a good hardy chuckle. It's pretty convincing.

*If you do see me at the gym limping on the treadmill or laying down on the ground from exhaustion and you wanna try to act like a big shot and call me out on it, I'll act like I have no idea what you're talking about. And I'll make you look like an insensitive fool. So don't try to act like a big shot.*

Anyway as I'm walking in I spot a guy that I used to know pretty well from school. He was in my math study group and we were all good friends in that class and I used to give him dating advice, because I was a newly wed and knew (and still know) everything there is to know about dating and games and such. So we say hey!! and how ya doin' and how ya been and all that jazz and then the conversation ensues as follows:

Him: I remember you were just barely pregnant, what did you end up having? Me: A little girl, we actually have two little girls now if you can believe that much time has passed. Him: What?!? Wow congratulations, I guess I'm not surprised. Me: (at this point what I intend to say is, yeah we stay busy but instead I say: Yeah, we get busy with a big smile on my face, nodding my head casually. He let out an awkward little laugh and then I immediately furrowed my brow like I smelled something rotting and said, "Good to run into you!" and walked immediately away as quickly as possible. I have to retreat when this happens.

I avoided him the rest of the time, did my 5 lunges and 5 sit ups and got outta there. I told my husband when I got home about my encounter to which he simply said, "What is wrong with you?"

Maybe I should see a therapist. Maybe I should tell doc that I can't keep myself from making sexual innuendos in inappropriate settings with inappropriate people. I'm not a closet pervert. I promise. I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

Oh well. Here's to gettin' busy! And the results:

Grammy and Papa came down for the weekend and happened to bring cousin Carson along too. It was wonderful. These two are best friends. See? She's crying because we told her Carson couldn't move in with us. I'm pretty sure that's why. And look at what a peach he is, comforting her in her time of need. Love it.

We wanted to watch a movie so had to build a fort of distraction for the munchkins. And deliver up the I-phones for puzzle games.

The movie that we had to watch was Eclipse btw. And I ended up putting Lucy to bed and Grammy put Carson to bed and for most of the movie it was just Papa and Jason watching the third Twilight movie together. And everything was right in the world.

Lucy kept saying, "There's no hair!" Papa's got pretty much the coolest feature in the world to her.

Oh, and Lucy is going through a major princess stint. Probably won't end for some time, since mine hasn't yet. Her favorite one is daddy. Loves him.

He's the best. Really.

The latest.

Ugh. Lucy is watching Charlotte's web right now... has there ever been a single character in the history of animated characters more annoying than Wilbur? Everything about that stinking pig drives me nuts. He's just so pathetic, he does nothing for himself the entire movie... just sits around feeling sorry for himself. And his voice! I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die! Stop your whining! You're dyin'! Now get in mah belleh Wilbur! He chaps me. Really really chaps me.

We got home from Arizona last night, and it was a lovely time we spent there. Lovely. I wanna move there so bad every time we go there in January. It was sublime. My sisters and I spend a lot of time fantasizing about living down the street from each other. We're plotting. But I do have a story for you. Oh yes, always a story. But maybe only other moms will relate to this story. Because it was a bit mortifying for me. Gather 'round, get your blankies and warm milk. It's story time again.

So Saturday night Jason and me, my sister Bethany and her husband Walid decide to go out for a night on the town. (We ended up driving around their neighborhood hanging out the car windows bashing in mailboxes all night but that's a whole different blog post, folks. We're so crazy!) Ok seriously, we went to dinner. Went to dinner for some good ol' fashioned adult conversation and delicious grub (and by adult, I mean X-rated. Why does it seem like that every time the word adult is involved?). So Beth had arranged the babysitting and was excited to get two 15 year old girls in her ward (church) who babysit for their family quite frequently. And these twins are such peaches, sweetest girls on earth. We made the reservation late, close to 8:00 so I could get Scarlett down for the night and the rest of the munchkins would be close to bedtime as well. Well one of the sisters ended up not feeling well, so just one of them came over. We were a tad wary about this since Bethany has 4 kids (ages 3 to 9) and I have 2. We were reassured over and over again (these twins are the oldest of 6 kids) and Bethany even talked to her mom and she said she would come over if things got tough at all. So we left. Scarlett was sleeping soundly, and the rest were watching a movie getting ready to retire for the evening as well. We get back to the house around 10:30 and are relieved (as you always are) to see that things appear to have gone well. 5 out of 6 of the kids are snoozing soundly. Before we even walk into the house, we spot Lucy like this through the front window which we aren't surprised by in the least. She'll sack out easily pretty much anywhere and everywhere except where we'd like her to.

I was a little surprised to see Scarlett awake. The babysitter was holding her on her hip when we walked in but she seemed content. No big deal. So I take Scarlett and Jason's taking pictures of Lucy snoozing on this chair and I'm getting ready to take baby back upstairs when I hear Bethany from the kitchen sympathetically say, "Are you gonna cry?" And then I see the poor girl burst into full body sobs. Face buried in hands, but clearly contorted under there from the hysterical weeping.... Bethany hugging her, trying to comfort her. I'm in shock and so confused and as I'm walking over to them concerned and heart going out to her, Bethany says, "Well, was it my kids?" to which she replies, "Your kids were perfect... It was those two," and points to Scarlett in my arms and to the general area where Lucy is, still sobbing. I let out an audible gasp, my jaw drops completely. And I immediately feel like I just peed my pants in public or something. Don't ask me why that's the only thing I can compare it to. But it was just SO awkward. The complaints I've had from have been so few and far between.... I think one other time there was something other than complete gushing... so I wanted to crawl into a hole. And this poor girl was bawling her eyes out. Over the bullying that came from my children. Apparently I'm that mother. Of those kids. Her voice kept echoing in my head, Your children were perfect... IT WAS THOSE TWO!!! So I try to put my arm around her and ask what in the world happened but she obviously feels awkward too because she really doesn't want to talk to me about it, just sortof avoids eye contact with me and talks to Beth. And that's okay, because she knows my sister and doesn't know me at all. So I just let my sister do the investigating. And I pace. That's right. I pace in a little circle around the two of them, soaking up every word and pretending like I'm not there making a plastered-on-awkward face... something like this... the entire time.

She tells Bethany that Lucy just kept screaming, "Go away!!" at her, which she does to me too when she's overtired and ornery. And Scarlett woke up in there and from the sounds of it, when she took her out it might as well have been a huge tarantula taking her out of her crib and trying to comfort her. A 6 foot tall tarantula with heinously harry legs and drool-covered pincers. So they both screamed at her for at least a good half hour, and Lucy probably added a few personal insults in as well. Maybe something about her outfit or hair style. I apologized at least three times but that poor girl was still crying when my brother-in-law took her home. And I sat there on the couch feeling like the worst mother ever, making ridiculous proclamations to my husband like,"See? We're never getting a babysitter again! Our kids are the worst!" My sister came back inside, we took one look at each other and had a huge tear streaming laugh attack over the awkwardness of it all. I want to send her flowers. Not my sister, the babysitter, whose name is also Beth. I do think I'll call her the next time we're down there though and ask to sit for us again, so she can see just how angelic my kids really are. And I'll probably have to pay my nieces and nephew off so they're hellions the next time. Or maybe I'd just have to have the candid camera crew set up at her house, filming her reaction to me asking her to babysit again, so we can all watch it later and laugh about it and hi-five several times.

Phew. Glad I got that off my chest. Here are just a few other pics of our long weekend. The Phoenix zoo was near empty Monday morning. Glorious. :)

Ummm... Isaiah Joseph, lady killer much? yes much.

Olivia and Isaiah

Like I said before... Watch out.

'

This is when a neighbor boy tried to take Lucy's scooter... I distinctly remember hearing, "oh no he di'ent."

Here's some from when Bethany asked me if I could do photo shoot of just her... I think we got some good head shots sister!

First bike ride

and Scarlett Marie. If I stand in the same place for longer than 6.5 seconds, inevitably I will look down to see this. She follows me around all day long and tries to scale me every chance she gets.

She melts me. A lot. But don't let her fool you. And don't ever say yes if I ask you to watch them for a couple hours.