Little Scarlett Marie, (Ahem)

How are you already a year old? How did it happen? In the Book of Mormon, Jacob writes that "the time passed away with us, and also our lives passed away like as it were unto us a dream..." I feel what he's saying right now. So much. This year has been a dream. It's all passing so quickly.

-You are charismatic and charming. You are a total flirt.

-We laugh so much together. You and I are great friends. Your sister makes you laugh so much as well. You are little besties.

-You love to wave and give kisses (and your dad requests them roughly 300 times a day).

-You are so affectionate and snuggly.

-You are a mama's girl. You say mama and hi all the time.

-National averages tell us you are a bit more petite than the average little lady, even though you came into the world barely under a full two pounds bigger than your sister.

-You have the longest eye lashes and when I first met you I couldn't get over all your dark hair... which you also love because you rub your food all over in your hair like it's nobody's business. --I'm slightly relieved to see that you don't seem to be quite as mischievous and busy as your sis (but we are not placing bets on that yet).

-You have the most adorable squeal when you laugh and the most grating happy high pitched shrieks. And they last way longer than anyone ever expects. Honestly, I have no idea how you have the long capacity you do.

-You are ridiculously ticklish. Pillsbury dough-boy style.

-You are so joyful. FULL of joy. And I am even more joyful to be the mother you were sent to for your time here on earth.

This day was one of the happiest of my life. I am so thankful for this day.

Happy Birthday baby girl! Please stop growing so you can always try to crawl up my body to get into my arms.

Once there was a man named George and he was such a saint.

Two weekends ago, Jason competed in a triathlon in sunny and beautiful St. George. Congratulations sweet husband! I still can't believe you took first place!!! SO awesome!!! And they're putting your picture on a billboard!! And we're having another baby!

Just kidding about all of that. We didn't even go to St. George. Just kidding we did. But JK about everything else, except the congratulations to my husband part. And SJK about the baby (sorta JK) because we are having another baby (hopefully). But not in 9 months. You're so gullible. Is my writing annoying sometimes? Because I'm annoying myself right now. Blah. Moving on.

Wishing Daddy luck before the games begin. So weird his number was 1588. Because that's been his lucky number for his whole adult life. It was his number one time when he was waiting to be seen at the DMV. It was the number of girls he kissed before entering into wedded bliss. And it's the number of human hair wigs he has in his vast collection. (JK. But my friend Tamra just told me why her husband's favorite number is 4... and I thought it was such a funny thing to have a favorite number, but then she told me all of the many sentimental meanings behind the number, and I was utterly fascinated by it all. I wish I had a favorite number.) Moving on. Again.

Look at my photographering skills. Okay fine, it was Ashlyn's. But still. I can tell he's looking for me here, trying to tell me how much he loves me. I also love this pic because shots of people gasping for air really are the most flattering. His arm pit hair looks nice, too. Go Jason you stud muffin! (I normally reserve stud muffin for when you and I are all alone, but this totally warrants it publicly.)

This is the only decent pic I got of him with his bike. All the other ones are blurry. Curse the orange barriers everywhere in my life. Everywhere! PS Look at those arm muscles. That's why I married him folks. He could let the rest of his body go, but I don't know what will happen to us if he ever lets those guns go.

Scarlett was just happy to be there part of all the magic. She was even crying when he crossed the finish line. Sometimes the cause of tears among infants is a real guessing game, but I like to think she was really moved by the whole scene.

Lucy's face when I told her daddy's time on the bike:

She's kindof turned into something a bit like Mickey with Rocky.

Flashing NorthStar gang signs. Representin'.

It's amazing how much younger running keeps you looking. Really amazing, here he is on his second lap:

Seriously, I loved this kid. Not as much as I love my husband, but still. I cheered really loud and did the Arsenio Hall arm pump for him.

And, the glorious welcome at the finish line:

We went down with two other couple friends of ours, and all four of them did it too. I wasn't sad to be on the sidelines, I mean I know I could have made everyone proud if only I didn't have these dang little kids to watch. Kindof like that Jack Handy Deep Thought, ya know the one about the plastic sacks...

To me, it's a good idea to always carry two sacks of something when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, "Hey, can you give me a hand?" you can say, "Sorry, got these sacks."

Yup, sorry. Got these kids. No triathlon for me. Dang it.

We did however go on a bike ride the following day in between conference sessions (me and my flashy new road bike's second go together, Jason pulled the wee ones in our bike trailer) and I may or may not have asked him, "Do you have any idea what the word casual means?? Because this is not a casual bike ride nor Sabbath appropriate..." (like we had clarified in conversations prior to outing). So we hoofed up our "casual" bike trail, up snow canyon state park with 50 mph wind blowing sand in our faces making me swerve all over the trail... I might have had to hop off my bike and walk it up every single hill we came to while I was receiving encouragement from all 5 other adults present (5 post triathlon competitors), "You can do it Meradith!" and, "Are you shifting gears properly? I don't think you are..." and I might have resorted to telling Jason, "I'm so hating you right now" while big tears streamed down my face. I might have told him also, I know I can do this... I don't WANT TO DO THIS... and I don't have anything to prove... and When I say I wanna go on a casual bike ride it's not because I'm some lazy incapable person who can't do hard things... I've done plenty of hard things and I know I can do hard things... and may have also asked him, regardless of how much sense the question made or makes presently, Why do you always wanna make me do Pioneer crap??

Wearing a helmet didn't make me feel any better about myself while this was all taking place.

But don't you worry. We made up. And we're stayin' together.

{To better understand my hostility, go here.}

All in all, it was a blissful weekend of ourdoorsy accomplishments, personal achievement and spiritual renewal! (In all seriousness, I really do think General Conference makes for my very favorite two weekends of the year. I am so very grateful.)

Babies and springtime.

I feel like I've been an exceptionally lame blogger lately. We got back from Vegas yesterday (Go Cougs!) and the girls have come down with some of the nasty junk going around so I'm mush brain. But even before the weekend, I'm just having major bloggers block. I'm just off my game, can't explain it. I have the beginnings of several blog posts in my files that have amounted to absolutely nothing. So when I'm a weak blogger, the safe place I go to is pictures of babies. I think it's a safe move. See what I mean though? So far this post has been really lame. I don't blame you if you never come back. And if you talk crap about me behind my back.

Last week we had a playdate here with some cousins at our place. And by playdate I mean a date for moms to lay around catching up on family gossip. We like to pretend they're for the babies. Indeed we do.

Oh Corbin...Corbin, Corbin, Corbin. Becky and Corbin actually came and had a slumber party the previous night so we had the chance to go an extended photo shoot with Corbin J. After every shot, he'd immediately change facial expression and wait for the next. Such a ham.

And just look at those arms... they make me want to scream. People pay good money to have reconstructive surgery just to have that crease on the wrist... he doesn't even know how blessed he is.

Scarlett wishes she had it.

Here's Scarlett at 3 days old and Corbin at 10 days. I had high hopes of her being the "chubby baby" of them. The future seemed bright.

But alas, it just wasn't in the cards. She looks like a little pixie next to him at 10 months. And now I have to stop looking at her newborn pics... I will go get myself pregnant again immediately if I don't. Toooooo much. Perfect little cherub.

These 3 additions to the fam all came within 8 weeks of each other.

They were disagreeing about politics...

Josh and mama Wendy. Josh is her FOURTH. You'd never know it. Doesn't she look 15? Not even old enough to date and has 4 kiddies. What a life. (I'm sad we didn't get more of Josh! You have to come spend the night next time too Wendy. And we're making you watch Bachelor).

Another little something... I was putting Scarlett down for her nap when I came out to this:

innocent little Lucy squeegeeing the shower floor... until I looked closer and saw the half pound of pumpkin spice shower gel dumped on her head.

Like any wrong...not as pleasant as she had imagined it being... but the greesy mullet look might be something she could pull off.

Another fun thing happening at our house... Scarlett thinks a good place to stash food once she's full is on the back of her head. Outta sight, outta mind.

Oh, and we've been peeing our pants because of the sunny weather lately. It's a good peeing of the pants though. Peein' your pants is cool.

Lucy loving life...

Scarlett not so sure. She's just a rookie.

I can't see an ounce of snow anywhere anymore in my yard. And it makes me genuinely happy.

I am in denial that this baby will turn one already at the end of next month. She is walking along everything she can and is going down stairs already on her tummy. So far she takes after her mother... laughing and crying simultaneously. My hubby can attest to that.

Sounds about right.

Once there was a snow midget

Judging by my dreams last night, I'd think I was pregnant. I'm not. But yes, weird and oh so vivid dreams. Do you know these guys? I do. Jemaine and Bret, Flight of the Conchords. We're best friends in my dreams.

They were over at my house except it wasn't this house, but they were over with a few very random other friends of mine. We were all talking and laughing and eating the delicious hors d'œuvres I had prepared. I was kinda like Mel on the show, but I wasn't lusting after them and they wanted to hang out with me. I was particularly funny in my dream, everyone was laughing so hard at everything I said... kinda like that dream scene from dumb and dumber when Lloyd throws peanuts in his face... I may or may not have thrown a cup of peanuts into my face as well.

Then the party left to go down to the lake and I was going to meet up with them there and once everyone had left and I was getting into my car a cop car pulled up and a real jack of a cop got out and was telling me my neighbors had been calling and complaining because of the ruckus. And I was like Oh come on man! Cut some young hipsters some slack!! Know what I'm sayin'? (my subconscious is in denial that I am now actually the frumpy person who would be complaining... especially if it was keeping my kids up...) Then he insisted on having a look around and once we were inside he tried to put the moves on me. Creep.

I was telling him he needed to get out when I heard a baby crying. And I was thinking What's a baby doing here? I live a wild life with no responsibility! Then realized it was my Scarlett, in real life. At 3:30 AM. Comforted baby, made sure she was snoozing again peacefully, and collapsed back into bed... and immediately had another dream that my ex-boyfriend came to my house with 2 little kids claiming that I was the mother and that he was sorry he didn't tell me earlier but he didn't want to make me feel obligated to stay with him but now times had gotten tough and he needed the child support and thought I had a right to know. Nooo... How can I be the mother?!? I was so nervous to have to tell my husband about these children from a previous relationship that I knew nothing about... and that Scarlett and Lucy were about to meet unknown siblings... nevermind the fact that I would have had to be pregnant for 9 months and birth them without any knowledge that they existed. The impossibility of it never even entered into my mind.

Phew. I woke up this morning glad to know I didn't have any illegitimate children out there. But sad I wasn't best friends with Jemaine and Bret. I'll be thinking about how much fun we had for at least a couple of weeks now. Miss those guys.

Moving on: Lucy and I made her first snowman last week when we got hit with that flash blizzard. The snow is mostly all melted away thank goodness. And in actuality, it was more like a snow midget. And I think it might be a little old woman instead of a man. So we named her Gertie, after my grandmother. My nana wore sunglasses just like these.

As we were making the bigger snowballs for her body... I was packing the snow and Lucy was trying to follow mom's lead, but what ended up happening was Lucy basically sucker punching poor Gertie over and over again. We had to start over several times, hence Gert's size. I had a flush of embarrassment when I realized what I must have sounded like if by chance any of the neighbors had their windows open... Not like that Lucy... not so hard! Gentle! No!! Let mommy do it! It even got to the point that I had to push her down in the snow a few times and give her a good white washing. That's the only way 2 year olds learn.

In reality I just had to reign in the control freak perfectionist part of me (it's not a very large part of my personality... come to my house and you will see that a perfectionist does not run this home) and not care so much. I don't want her to hate building snowmen and having trauma about it when she's older. I was a little comforted when I was talking to my sister about it and she said that whenever little Leah asks her to color in a coloring book with her, she ends up shoving her off and saying, Forget it Leah! Mommy's coloring this page! You're ruining it!! Sometimes you really have to do that so you can display your pretty coloring on the fridge for guests to see. And so your husband knows you can stay within the lines. It's important, people.

She was positively thrilled with Gertie nonetheless.

The only problem was that we couldn't find anything for her mouth so I drew it on with a red marker. Which made for something creepy and hannibal lecterish only a mere 2 hours later.

Plus, her nose made of a clump of frozen dirt that I thought was a rock. In no time it had crumbled into flecks.

Which now reminds me of a Deep Thought by Jack Handy:

"He was a cowboy, mister, and he loved the land. He loved it so much he made a woman out of dirt and married her. But when he kissed her, she disintegrated. Later, at the funeral, when the preacher said, "Dust to dust," some people laughed, and the cowboy shot them. Later as his hanging, he told the others, 'I'll be waiting for you in heaven-- with a gun'."

Oh well. We almost loved you that much, Gert. You looked good out there. Like you really belonged.

And a few more from that afternoon. Scarlett feels self-conscious when I pull her hair into the single pony on top because she says it makes it draws attention to her receding hair line and it ages her a lot. I tell her she's being ridiculous when she says that and that she's beautiful just the way she is. She even told me I couldn't post this pic on the blog. So don't tell her I did.

Scrumptious sissy doodles.

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.