From The Book Of Brenna

"You have so many freckles, I can't even name them all!"

{said to me, by Brenna age 4}

"Your bum is so, SO big!

It even can fit around all the sides of the toilet!"

 {said to me, by Brenna age 4}

"Please bless that we won't pee our pants."

{said during a prayer by Brenna, age 3 at sleepover}

"When you get to be as old as dad,
your head will be as big as his head."
{said to me, by Brenna age 4}

"Like when my mom had Dallin, and he came out of her bum!"

{said by Brenna age 4, to a ward member}

"Daddy, watch out for wolves!"

{said by Brenna, age 4 to Kevin as he was leaving for work}

"It felt like there was a wrapper in my nose, but when I peeked inside, all I could find was a booger."

{said to me by Brenna age 4. The following afternoon she blew a rolled up crunch bar wrapper out of her nose, no joke. When asked why there was a wrapper in her nose, she said she forgot to take it out the night before}

I asked Brenna what she thought of an apple at Sprouts when we were shopping. She grabbed it, licked it, smelled it, and then said it was good enough to buy.

Painting Pumpkins

 A few weeks before Halloween, we did our first pumpkin carving as a family. We were ill prepared and without any carving tools, so we had the girls paint theirs, while Kevin struggled to cut his with a kitchen knife. We already bought some carving sets for next year, so yes we learned our lesson. The girls had fun scooping out all the pumpkin gut,s and I got excited to bake the seeds.

Brenna asked me to help her with her pumpkin which was fun for me. It turned into a feminine version of the classic jack o' lantern. We made sure to give her a hair clip, jewel teeth, and plenty of makeup.

Brooke on the other hand, didn't want any help until the end, and she ended up doing most of the painting herself. I think she was a little concerned when hers looked nothing like Brenna's. Even so, it turned out very glamorous and spooky looking. It reminded me a lot of those bratz dolls.

Kevin pulled off a very nice looking jack o' lantern, which was no surprise given his talent. I think he was hoping for something more intricate, but when all you've got is a kitchen knife, you go simple. The kids loved how it looked all lit up.

 After we were all done and it was bedtime, Brooke asked us to put their pumpkins on the dresser in their bedroom. We were cat sitting at the time and the visiting cat and Toby (our cat) weren't getting along too well. So in the middle of the night, Brooke woke up to the sound of cats growling and hissing at each other, and she thought it was the pumpkins. Needless to say she ended up with bed with us, and those pumpkins were removed from their bedroom promptly.

48 Days Later

I've wanted my own garden for a while now, but never had much of a backyard for one. With our new place came a plot of land in the backyard that had already been used for gardening. Once the weather cooled down to about 100 degrees last month, I got the urge to till some earth. We picked up some supplies at Lowe's and I went to work.  

This is what it looked like when we moved here.

Not much to look at, but it definitely had potential.

 I was grateful for the sprinkler system that was already installed to water the garden.

 Here are my helpers/potential destroyers of the garden. The girls were really excited to help, and I was excited for it to be a family activity. I wanted it to be a positive experience, but I noticed that sometimes the more they *helped* the more stressed I became. I wanted them to be involved, but I also wanted the garden to grow. They were great helpers overall, although Dallin was not allowed near the garden. He is still in that dirt eating/destroy-everything-mom-is-interested-in phase. Funny how protective you can become over a stretch of dirt and seeds!

I earned this here blister by not thinking things through. Yes, I bought gardening gloves. No, I didn't wear them when using the shovel and rake, because I thought they were mainly for keeping my hands clean. Not so much!

After a couple shifts of raking, weed pulling, rock plucking, and manure spreading, the garden was a go. I was still skeptical though, I mean this is Arizona, and I had nothing but the back of the seed packets to direct me. Even so, I tended to my garden every day, picking up rocks, and making sure the sprinklers were doing their job.

    Seven days later, I about peed my pants when I saw a few specks of green poking out of the soil. The lettuce sprouts were the first to appear and I was thrilled that something was actually happening. I think I took 20 pictures of these silly sprouts.

Here's the garden 48 days later....

Like my ghetto aluminum foil signs? Yes, they are unique and have survived several rainstorms and the wrath of Dallin. I give them 4 thumbs up.

The carrots are the happiest plants I have ever seen! They are so fluffy and springy looking. Makes me wish they left them on the carrots at the grocery store. Maybe it would entice me to buy them more often.

 

Spinach that is pretty much ready to harvest once I muster up the courage.

 Here's the green onions.

 They are still pretty thin and wispy, so I'm curious how thick they will get.

 Here's the lettuce. It's close to being ready to harvest I think... Unfortunately our turtle and the neighborhood birds are fans of organic lettuce sprouts, and they ate off most of them before I got bird netting.

 We also planted broccoli and cauliflower, but I got lazy and decided I didn't want to cover the whole other side of the garden with netting, since there were only a handful of plants. The birds and our turtle seem to enjoy the leaves off of these.

Overall it's been really fun to have a garden and a new little hobby.

 I'm excited to see the veggies of our labors:)

Sweet And Sometimes Sour

I try to keep my blog really light and upbeat, so when something negative happens I don't usually document it here, unless I can make light of it. For example, I never wrote about the time when the girls were two years old, and squeezed through our front gate while I was getting ready for the gym and how I had to call 911 because I couldn't find them. I also decided against writing about my most recent SVT episode that earned me a ride in an ambulance. At the time they seemed too negative and not something that I could ever make suitable for the blog...or people who might be reading my blog. After thinking about it, I realize that there's nothing wrong with including some of the bad with the good, because like my blog description goes"sweet and sometimes sour, but always with real filling." So this post is me finally being real about the sour parts of life at the moment. It is not meant to be a pity party for myself, or an attempt to discount all the really sweet things that are happening in my life, because really I am so blessed.

 Saturday night I borrowed a DVD from a friend that was an introduction to a system that helps you identify your energy type. I was excited to find out which one I belonged to, because it seems very beneficial to learn more about your tendencies, personality, and sense of style which I desperately need!(This is not the sour part in case you are wondering). It was just an intro, so it went over each type briefly, showing a picture of a woman that was that specific type along with other things in nature that coincided. Type 1 was for bubbly and friendly people that have high energy and a positive outlook on life. Type 3 was for the woman who was a very determined and hard worker, and could accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Type 4 was the confident and opinionated woman, who was bold. None of those seemed to fit exactly right. Type 2 was explained as the soft and subtle woman who was very detail oriented and well, a worry wort. A picture of an elderly lady with white hair popped up on the screen and yes you guessed it, that was my energy type. The one I didn't want to be. Friendly, hard worker, or confident sounded great, but mine was the quiet subtle one with the granny picture. Not really what I wanted to hear. From there it all went downwards, not because there is anything necessarily wrong with that type of person, but because I was once again reminded of all the things that I didn't like about myself. I must say that the video was not to blame at all, as it was very positive, and feeling negatively about myself was my own choice.

  When I woke up Sunday morning, I tried not to think about what me and that granny had in common. I got ready for church, but I could tell that my emotions were already a little raw. At church I made an effort to really study the sacrament hymn. I told myself that Jesus Christ died for me personally and that must mean that I am special . As much as I wanted to believe it, I couldn't. The question "Why?" kept coming to my mind. "Why did Heavenly Father make me this way?" "Why am I so lacking in talents and gifts, and why is it so hard for me to make friends?" "Why do I have to be the quiet boring one?" "Why couldn't I be the confident one, or the one that makes friends easily?" I entered the gospel doctrine room full of men and women and felt like filler. I didn't contribute, I just filled in the open space. I noticed the people around me. I wished to be that bubbly outgoing woman who gave the lesson, or the strong and confident one who wasn't afraid to voice her opinion. Envying others talents or gifts only made things worse, and by the next hour, my small shred of happiness had faded. Finding myself close to tears, I left relief society and drove home.

  Once there, I talked to Kevin who had left church to put Dallin down for his nap. I poured out my emotions and told him how much I didn't like myself. How confused I was as to my purpose in this life, because I felt that I had so little to offer. I talked to him about all the things I'm not: the crafter, the fashion queen, the chef, the health nut, the marathon runner, the adventurer, the martha, the betty, the college degree achieving, type, and how at times I wonder what I am exactly. Questions like "What makes me special? and " What do I have to offer?" were repeated over and over in my mind, but try as I could, I could not find an uplifting answer. I told him that all I really know is I'm a mom. I do mom things. I live a mom life. I give most of my day to my three kids, and I come up for air when bedtime comes. Then I stay up late trying to soak up the quiet that is rarely heard in our house. I attempt to socialize via facebook/email/blogging so that I can feel like I have had some connection to the outside world, and then I go to bed. Around 5 or 6am it starts all over again. I told him that what I do every day can be challenging, and there a lot of times that I feel very inadequate. I've always wanted to be a mom and have lots of kids, but at times I've questioned whether this work was meant for me. I expressed wondering what I  was thinking when I thought I could take care of 3 small children, 3 years old and younger, and do a good job of it. I'm the girl who stopped playing a game of rummy as soon as the cards didn't seem to play in my favor, and boy being a mom of three sure doesn't play in my favor sometimes. Kevin was as always, a great support and was kind enough to listen and really hear me out. He offered some advice and perspective that helped.

  To be honest this last year has been extremely trying, but I tend to keep these kinds of things to myself because yes, I'm the "quiet" type, and I feel so comfy in my little box. There have been several times in the last few months where I have really questioned my ability to be a good mom, and since that has always been my dream and is currently my main calling at this point, feeling that I'm not good at it anymore has sent me into spurts of depression.  Days when I would wake up in the morning and just feel sad, really sad. Many times when I didn't feel at all like myself, and not always knowing why I felt the way I did. Going to bed close to midnight and waking up for Dallin  430am feeding for the last year probably hasn't helped, as I'm sure that lack of sleep is part of it. Things have gotten better since he is finally sleeping later into the morning, but I would be lying if I said I don't struggle at times.

 I struggle with the job of a wife/homemaker/mom and with feeling that I am not good enough. Seeing all the "supermoms" out there who manage to keep everything together and then some.  I struggle with the feeling that I don't really amount to much as a person, that I'm boring and lack talent and gifts, and that is why I don't have close friends. After the girls were born I was convinced that the only reason people talked to me was because I had twins, because what else is interesting about me? Every woman I come in contact with seems to have so many amazing gifts and talents that are so obvious, and at times I am intimidated by those who seem to be able to do everything, and do it well. I admire so many of you women out there, and I could probably make a list of your qualities and talents that I wish I could have too.

 I know things will get better as I change my perspective and learn to love myself for who I am. For now I'm OK with just admitting that this phase of my life has it's own unique challenge, and that I have a lot to work on. I hope to be able to turn some of my weaknesses into strengths, but at the end of the day I hope to be happy with the woman who has never been able to run more then a few miles, or gotten a college degree, who considers herself socially retarded, and isn't the loudest most interesting person in the room. I have been blessed with the gospel, a great husband and healthy kids, and I'm so lucky to be a stay at home mom. Even with all that I still feel down at times, as silly as that might seem.  I know there are sources of strength that I can call on, whether they be family, the scriptures, conference talks, and ultimately my Heavenly Father, and that gives me hope.