My Stud~Hair or Not, We LOVE him!

Kids are very honest, and they always say what they think (at least my do, whether you want to hear it or not). Well, for Father's Day Rich's dad and sister helped me with one of Rich's presents (his favorite present actually); Fred made copies of all their home videos (he had alredy put them on DVDs) and sent them to me to give to Rich. Needless to say (but I will), Rich LOVED them!!!!!! Well, Brooke and I were watching the one of Heather and Bruce's wedding reception, when Brooke saw her daddy. She excitedly exclaimed, "There's Daddy, but (imagine a puzzled expression on her face) Daddy had hair!" I reply, "Yes honey, Daddy had hair then; he has lost a lot of it." Before I even had to explain further, Brooke responds, "Yes, but we love Daddy even if he doesn't have hair!" I simply answered, "Yes we do." What I was thinking was slightly different, I was thinking, 'That's right, he is losing his hair, but he has all the things that do matter. I would love him if he lost all of his hair as long as he doesn't lose who he is: his strong testimony, his quick wit, his intelligence, his sense of humor, his dedication to doing what is right, his giving heart, his smile, those twinkling blue eyes of his, his honesty, and his love of life. I would take my cute little semi-baldy anyday; he will always be my hubba hubba stud!'

Rich and all of his hair glory, looking quite studlicious I must add! I would have dated him!

A few years later, still looking studlicious, but not quite as much hair glory going on. I would marry him!!!

Oh yeah, I did!

And today, very little hair glory going on, but still a whole lot of studliciousness happening! Once my hubba hubba stud, always my hubba stud!

The Skirt

Picture taken May 2007

Don't you think this skirt is adorable? Wouldn't you want to pass this skirt from one daughter to the next when the eldest outgrows it? Can't you tell Brooke loved wearing the skirt? Don't you think Emma would love it just as much? As you can tell, I love this skirt, and that is why when we almost lost the skirt I was filled with dread; Rich's reassurance that it was 'just a skirt' therefore fell on deaf ears. Okay, I guess I should explain further; yesterday I had gone to the store with all 3 cuties to pick up some milk and orange juice (that would have been my first mistake). I debated back and forth with myself if I should even go to the store, because the cuties and I had already been to the library for one of their summer shows; finally the store won out (I am not a happy camper if I don't have my daily dose of o.j. in the morning). Everything is going fairly well, until Emma decides she doesn't want to be in the little car anymore (you know, the kind that is attached to the carts to keep the kids happy and occupied; LOVE THEM). We are on an aisle picking out chocolate chips and peanut butter chips (not on my list, but on sale, good items to stock up on) when all of a sudden Brooke exclaims, "Mama, Emma is out of the car." I look down and sure enough, Emma is toddling around, grinning from ear to ear (very proud of her Houdini escape act), and skirtless; I think, 'Didn't she have on a skirt when I brought her into the store?' 'Yes, she did have on a skirt!' Along with her little escape from the car, she also escaped from her skirt (of course these days, if she can get it off by herself, it is coming off). I pick her up and frantically begin to look for the skirt, and that is when the tyrant comes out: the crying, the whining, the 14 month old demands to be let down; then Braden and Brooke begin to look for the skirt, chaos is beginning to break loose. I am distraught about losing the skirt but so over being in the store with them, so I announce, "Okay, we are done! We are going to go pay for all of this stuff. We will just ask them to look for the skirt." This of course is not what I really wanted to do; I wanted that skirt, but I couldn't even think straight with Emma's meltdown, much less find the stamina to look for the skirt. As I was checking out, I explained my dire dilemma to the cashier and one of the managers, and so began the search. The manager began to look up and down the aisles to no avail; I wanted to join in the search, I wanted to leave with that skirt in hand, but Emma's screams just continued to escalate, so we left. Once home, I called Kroger (the store we had been shopping at), explained my sob story, gave them my name and number, and said a prayer to Heavenly Father that they would find the skirt. At a little after 8:30 last night, a manager from Kroger calls me to let me know that they had indeed found my skirt; thank you Heavenly Father for caring about things that may seem silly to everyone else (he does care about the little things too). I was so grateful that the skirt was found, and I was even more grateful to LaNae and Jessica, who rode with me to go get the skirt; it just wasn't in me to brave the store again with three cute hoodlums!

Ode' to My Daddy

I thought since yesterday was Father's Day, and since I got to spend the whole day letting Rich know what a great father he is, I thought I would take a few moments and let everyone know what a great father my daddy was and is; over the years he taught me many things: how to ride a bike, how to count money, how to cook scrambled eggs, how to make the best spaghetti sauce this side of the Mason Dixon line, to laugh at yourself, to always endure even when its hard, life isn't always fair, to have good manners, to always be truthful with yourself and others, sometimes your character is all you have, its important to have something to back up charm, your word is your bond, it is important to first like yourself, don't worry too much about what other people think of you, as long as you like you, give Christlike service to those who you encounter in life, have a ready smile, and try to live life to the fullest and enjoy the simple moments and savor the memories you make along the way. Thanks Daddy, I love you! You are a great daddy and a great granddaddy; we all love you!!!!!!!!!!!

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Two Minutes of Peace~too much to ask of a 3 year old

Well, yesterday Brooke, Braden, Emma, and I went with some friends to see The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything (cute movie); we had wanted to go see it as a family, but it was in and out of the theater before we knew it. Yesterday they were showing it as one of their free summer movies at Regal Cinemas; I guess once you calculate the gas, it was actually about $5 (still cheaper than it would have been to pay for all of us). I also saved money by bringing in a giant water bottle and cookies for the cuties to snack on during the flick. Anyway back to the post title, I thought, or maybe it was just wishful thinking, that I would have some quiet reflection time on the way to the theater. I put in The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything soundtrack and turned up the volume; I told the kids it would be fun to listen to the music to prep us for the movie. I thought, 'That should buy me at least five minutes of quiet time.' I of course forgot to calculate one very important part of the equation, Brooke. Brooke is my little talker (yes, she does get it honestly; I am not denying that), and yesterday she wanted to talk, and talk, and talk, and talk some more.
B: "Is there a princess in the movie?"
C: "Yes, there is a princess in the movie."
B: "Is it going to be a scary movie?"
C: "No, I wouldn't take you to go see a scary movie."
B: "But, what if I do get scared?"
C: "You won't get scared."
B: "Is it like Aunt Elizabeth's movie?" (Pirates of the Caribbean is the movie she is referring to, all of them)
C: "No, Aunt Elizabeth's movie is scary, but this one is not."
B: "Does Aunt Elizabeth think her movie is scary?"
C: "I don't think so or she wouldn't keep watching them over and over again."
B: "Why does she like to watch it?"
C: "I don't know, she just does." (at this point I am praying for peace and quiet; I must also point out that I have tried fruitlessly about 5 times to listen to my favorite song on the soundtrack)
B: "Does Aunt Elizabeth's movie have a princess?"
C: "No."
B: "Does the princess in the movie (referring to The Pirates...) have short hair?"
C: "No, I think she has long hair."
B: "No, it is short."
C: "How do you know?"
B: "I saw it on the computer."
C: "Well, I guess she has short hair then."

About this time Brooke begins to ask another question when I begin my plea, "Sweetheart, I love you, and I love talking to you; I just really need two minutes of quiet. I just want to listen to one song and think, so do you think you can just give Mommy two minutes?"

She looks at me as if she understands my plea and is going to grant my wish, and she does grant my wish (for a little while). After feeling confident in the fact that my reprieve of silence is going to begin, I turn on the music and go into reflection mode. 'Oh how glorious is this, time just to think, no talking, no whining, no tantrums, no Mommy, mommy, just glorious thinking time; I wish I could have...' My so needed and so deserved reflection time lasted a grand total of ten seconds, when from the back seat I hear, "Mommy, does Granddaddy have a mustache." I sigh heavily (the gesture lost completely on Brooke), and realize that my dear wish has slipped through my fingers. I realize that my sweet three year old only wants to talk, and she isn't trying to make crazy; she is just enjoying the time with her mama, so I turn the music down again and continue the discussion with her about her granddaddy's mustache which led to another topic and another and another. When we finally arrived at the movie theater, I parked the van (with the sweet chatter box still going), and thought, 'I bet they will fall asleep on the way home, and then I will get 25 minutes of glorious quiet.' (and let me tell you it was the most glorious 25 minute ride home I had experienced in a long time)

Drumroll please, the results are in...

...and I am

Okay, in case you missed it, I am...

Will this pregnancy end with me in the hospital giving birth to a healthy beautiful baby? Good question; I however do not hold the answer to that question, only Heavenly Father does. This is my 8th pregnancy, but Rich and I have only 3 cutie patooties living with us. I have had 3 miscarriages and one stillbirth (sweet Spencer Paul), and from this I have learned that Heavenly Father is in charge. I have also learned that worrying only makes you crazy, but it doesn't change the outcome. I also know that when things do happen, Heavenly Father sends people to be by your side to comfort you in times of loss and to celebrate with you in times of joy. Some of you are probably asking yourselves, 'Why doesn't she just wait until after her first trimester to tell everyone?' Okay, let's say that I don't tell anyone that I am pregnant, and then I lose the baby; there is no celebration of that child's short life. It would be like it never happened; no matter how short it was, it was still a pregnancy, an end to hopes and dreams, and a time when comfort is needed. Also, what if that pregnancy is meant to end up with a beautiful baby joining our family? I don't want to have to tell my children that I kept them a secret for fear that Heavenly Father might need them. I don't want them to think that finding out about them wasn't a time of excitement, celebration, and joy! So, despite my past trials and losses, I still celebrate, I still dream, and I still shout it from the rooftops, "I am pregnant!" Every pregnancy is wanted and so is every baby; from the time I was a small child, I have wanted to be a mother more than anything in this world, and I feel blessed that I have the opportunity to fulfill my dream. I have learned from the joys and the sorrow, and I am grateful for every trial Heavenly Father has put into my life; I am also grateful for the blessings that have been poured upon me. So, though it may sound crazy, I feel at peace. I don't know what the outcome is of this pregnancy, but I do know that Heavenly Father does. I would love to have another baby, to have another little cutie patootie around our house, and to have yet another person to love, but I know that if Heavenly Father does have to take this baby, like he has had to take others, I will be given the strength I need. So, I will continue to celebrate our joyous news and count 4 of the biggest blessings I have in my life:

My husband-

my best friend and my love. He makes everything sweeter; the sky is a little bluer, the grass a little greener, and life a little sweeter because of him. I can be who I am with him, and I never have to pretend to be something I am not; he loves everything that makes me who I am. His famous quote, "I don't have to understand her, I just have to love her."

Braden-

the sweet boy who has a tender heart, adorable dimples, and the ability to love people for who they truly are, and not what the world thinks they are; when he was born it was a new day for us. Braden brought sunshine back into our lives.

Brooke-

my crazy, sassy princess; she has a quick wit, a love of fun, and a fiery temper. She is made of a lot of sugar and a WHOLE lot of spice!

Emma-

my sweet crazy baby; she entertains us constantly with her expressive face, her bright blue eyes, and booty shaking ways. She is quite the charmer!

I am WOMAN, hear me ROAR!

Okay, okay, maybe I got a little carried away with the post title, but I just couldn't help myself. I feel like I have accomplished so much today, and my day isn't over yet. I have done the dishes, sorted laundry, shouted stains, washed clothes, dried clothes, helped the cuties clean their bedrooms (notice I said help, the deal is that we work together; if they don't work, I don't work, or either they pay me with toys to do their job-just like the real world baby-well almost), ironed a shirt for Rich, made breakfast for the family (no, not just cereal), posted something on our ward Relief Society blog, checked my e-mail, made a picnic lunch, took the cuties to the neighborhood pool, came home, read books, sang songs, put them down for naps, am in the process of blogging, and next I plan to go lay down, cuddle up under my covers, and take a gloriously delicious nap. Oh doesn't that word sound so nice, nap; just saying the word makes me smile!

Holy Cow

We were all just sitting around the table eating our gourmet peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when Brooke exclaimed, "Holy Cow!" I of course said, "What?" (that sure was out of left field) Brooke looked at me and explained quickly to the obviously uninformed individuals, like myself, "Holy Cow is what you say when something is weird." Well, at least now I know, but I'm still not sure what she thought was so weird; I'm not sure if I want to know.

Braden's 5th Birthday Party

I just have to say that I LOVE pool parties! This year we decided to have a super easy party, a pool party at our neighborhood pool. I just began to think about having to clean the house only to have 9 children destroy it in two hours time (wait, that is like everyday, except my kids have it down to a fine art, 45 minutes tops). I also began to think about the expense of having to buy all the things for the carnival party, which was the initial plan: the prizes, the decorations, the food, the goodie bag paraphernalia, it just didn't seem worth it. It also seemed a little much after Braden had already had a graduation party for his preschool graduation, a week of fun with his cousins, and then a small family party with us; I just didn't think he needed a big affair after everything, and I didn't want to have a 5 year old tyrant on my hands. I think it is growth promoting and character building to not always get what you want. Actually, I thought about not having a party, but I had already promised Braden; along with that growth promoting and charcter building, I am also trying to teach my children that promise keeping is a must. Keeping your word is a lesson my dad painfully taught me in high school. I had told a boy that I would go on a date with him (soooooooooo didn't want to go, but didn't want to hurt his feelings), but the more I thought about the upcoming date, the more I dreaded going; we are talking about starting to get physically ill thinking about going on a date with this guy (name withdrawn to protect the innocent). Well, I had decided to call this guy up and make up some lame excuse to get out of the date; my one mistake, telling my daddy my plan. First came the lecture about making promises and how important it was to keep your word, then came the talk about how it says something about your character whether or not you are true to your word. Basically, unless there is an emergency (not just feeling ill), someone in your family is near death, or you yourself is near death (doesn't feeling like that count, not according to daddy it doesn't). So, you guessed it, I ended up on the date (don't worry, if he had been a psycho, my dad wouldn't have let me or made me go, but my dad knew him). Long story short, I survived the date, and I learned two very important lessons that day, don't give your word unless you are willing and able to follow through, and if you do give your word, do everything humanly possible to follow through, but I digress! The point is, I had made a promise to Braden, and I was going to keep it! As a parent you realize all too quickly that it is VITAL that you not only talk the talk but walk the walk. Luckily however, I had not promised a big hoopla; I only had promised that he could have a party and invite some of his friends, so he and I made an invite list, I bought some store bought invites (sooooo not up to making my own this year, I know big shock to everyone that knows me), filled them out, addressed them (to make up for not making the invites, I did make return address labels with Braden's picture on them; it helped the lazy mom guilt factor), and sent them off. After a few days I made a few phone calls, tallied up the amount of guests, and we as a family headed to Wal-mart to purchase the necessary party items: chips, Capri Suns, ingredients for the cake, plates, napkins, a small present from us, and Braden bought a Hot Wheels racetrack and some cars with the birthday money that was burning a hole in his pocket. We left having spent a grand total of $22 on his party, not including our present; I was pretty pleased with the total, especially since I am now the budget queen of the Maseda home (if we don't need it, it is not coming in the house; of course occasionally scrapbook paper still needs to come visit, but not until the end of the month). Saturday morning I got up, baked his cake, decorated his cake (Braden wanted a racetrack cake again, that brings me up to grand total of 3 racetracks cakes I have made now), and then the cuties, Rich, and I got suited up, gathered the cooler and party supplies, and headed to the pool (how easy is that!). We then waited for the guests to arrive. The children swam, played, ate, opened presents, and just enjoyed themselves, along with our party crasher; one of the neighborhood kids came up and asked if he could be invited, we had extra cake so we agreed. Since our little party crasher (later found out his name was Matthew) hadn't known that there was a party, he did a cannonball for all of the party guests and gave Braden his Indiana Jones kids meal toy as his presents (too funny). All in all, I would say that the day was a success; Braden had fun, got to see his friends, and felt loved (check, check, check, we're all good, party successful, we covered all of our bases). I guess you can't have a pool party every year?! I guess it would get a little old?! Since I don't hear anyone chiming in, I guess that is a yes, it would get old, and no, you can't have a pool party every year. Oh well, it sure would be nice, and EASY! Maybe two years in a row is okay though?!?