A Rite of Passage?

To my horror, yesterday I discovered this.

Is this some kind of rite of passage for most children? My mama said I did the same thing when I was Brooke's age. Brooke luckily learned her lesson, I hope; after inspecting her butcher job in the mirror, she returned to the living room with a look of disgust on her face. I then asked if she liked how her hair looked, to which she pitifully responded, "No." I then asked her what she had learned about cutting her hair, to which she simply responded, "To not to."




Okay having said that, lesson learned or not, what in the world do we do with her hair?! If we cut the rest of her hair to match the hair she cut, her hair will be super short; I'm not sure super short would bode well for Brooke's curly hair. The only way we wouldn't be sporting the Afro look is if I straighten her hair everyday, and I am not quite up to that task. My plan for right now is to pull back the butchered portion of her hair until it grows a little longer and then cut the rest to match, at least until I can come up with a better plan. What do you think?

One Tough Cookie

Don't you just love this picture?! I made her pose for it after Rich came home from the mall last night; he went to the mall with all three cuties to see Santa, buy a present for me (they have been doing jobs to earn money), and ride the train. Like always with our children, he came home with new stories to tell, one of which included this little tough cookie. It seems that a little boy pushed Braden while they were playing in the small play area at the mall, and before Braden could even react, Brooke jumps in, gets in the boys' face, and yells,

"STOP PUSHING MY BROTHER!"

The end, problem solved; so if you need someone to right a wrong or take care of business, call in the 'tough cookie'!

(Is it wrong that I am proud of my daughter?)

And the winner is...

As a mother, sometimes you just have those weeks that are exhausting, draining, and character building; this past week was one of those weeks for me. Rich has been gone to Atlanta all week (not to mention the week before last as well), so I have had to wear all of the hats this week: mother, father, teacher, spiritual guru (okay maybe guru is a tad strong), disciplinarian, chef, nurse, counselor, referee, chauffeur, therapist, hygienist, nutritionist, personal shopper; if it has to do with keeping a family running, I have done it, and this week I have had to do it 24/7.



Contemplating some of the daunting tasks I had to accomplish this week and as a mother in general, it made me start thinking that we as mothers deserve to have a Mommy Oscar Night; we as mothers act in so many roles every day, why shouldn't we receive recognition?!!!!




I can just picture it now, I am decked out in my maternity finest, complete with just a slight smudge on my shoulder from one of Emma's hugs (always done with some kind of remnant of stickiness or food on her mouth); I pull up in my silver Toyota Sienna, get out, and saunter down the red carpet (which the event planners have sprinkled with Cheerios to help us feel more at home), and I am of course toting one of my bags from the diaper collection line (packed to the hilt to combat any situation). Stopping for pictures, I make sure to poke my stomach way out; maybe you get an Oscar just for going out in public looking this pregnant! Finally inside, I am presented with my goodie bag complete with all the things a mother could possibly dream about (or at least this mother): a gift certificate for a day of beauty at a spa (to be used after having the baby of course), a wide angle lens for my other baby (that would be my Canon Rebel XTi I am referring to, that I waited FOREVER for), Adobe Photoshop CS4, a video camera with all the bells and whistles to insure no precious moment will be missed, a certificate entitling me to a year of maid service, and a Visa gift card for a shopping spree after all the baby weight is gone (and it will be leaving). In awe of all the royal treatment, I quickly find my seat and anxiously await for the award ceremony to begin.


And now for the awards:

For surviving a trip to Wal-mart with three kids in tow during one of the busiest times of the day, the award goes to.......

(Drum roll please)

Carrie Maseda

The crowd goes wild as I go to accept my first Oscar of the evening.

"Thank you, thank you! I would like to thank all those that said prayers in my behalf this week, and I would like to thank Heavenly Father for the strength he gave me."


For listening to countless whining, tattling, and tantrums and not running screaming mad from her home, or hurling herself out of a moving vehicle, the Oscar goes to ......

(a hush falls over the crowd)

Carrie Maseda

I am in awe as I go up to the stage to accept yet another Oscar.

"Thank you again! I have been asked many times how I do what I do, and I always say, "I just do it, I have no choice." Truth be told, I also say A LOT of prayers!"

For persevering and making her children continue to do chores, despite the complaints, heavy sighs, and looks of disgust the award goes to...

(once again)

Carrie Maseda

I again saunter up to the stage (maybe more of a waddle this time) and accept my award.

"Thank you everyone for a wonderful evening, and thank you for this award. It means so much to me to be recognized for all of my efforts and hard work."

Now, I ask you ladies, who wouldn't love to have a night like that?!

I can say I knew her when

Okay, if you get the Ensign magazine, check out page 64 in the January issue; you will see none other than my good friend Rachel Rowe. I guess I can say I knew her when; I just hope she remembers us little people. Seriously, I think it is so cool that she is in the magazine!

How can I not love her?!?

How can I not love this sweet little bundle of innocence?!?!

Just for you Melinda

Here is the link to the fantastic Family Fun idea I blogged about a few days ago; anyone else is also quite welcome to check it out, but I had a special request from Melinda.

http://jas.familyfun.go.com/crafts?page=CraftDisplay&craftid=12093

Not Fat~Just Pretty

Do you see this little boy? One day, he is going to make someone a very good husband, because he already knows just the right thing to say (not to mention that he is super sweet). Last Saturday night, I had just finished getting ready for our ward Christmas party at church, and I was staring at myself in the mirror; you know, thinking things like, 'Why must the rest of me get so big when I am pregnant?' 'Oh, to be one of those women that only get a bigger tummy!' 'I however am of the variety of woman who gets bigger everywhere.' 'Oh well, at least after having the baby, I can work out again; until then, I guess I will have to be fat!' As these thoughts are racing through my head, my sweet little Braden walks into the bathroom, takes one look at me decked out in my maternity best, and exclaims, "Mama, you look pretty!" I quickly reply, "Thank you so much Braden, Mama needed to hear that! I feel pretty fat these days." Upon hearing my response, Braden gets a puzzled look on his face, and innocently replies, "Mama, you don't look fat, just pretty." Yeah, he got showered with kisses for that one; see, he already knows just what to say! I hope the girl who captures his heart one day will know what a prize she has!

My Aha Moment Mingled with a dose of Ranting and Raving

Okay, I should be working on an unfinished Christmas present, but I just had to write this first; sometimes when I have something on my mind I have to write it down, and then I can move on. First I pose this question, how do you feel when someone is ugly or talks nastily to your child? How would you feel if the children did this when they were in your house? How would you feel if one of these children was at least twice, three times their age? How would you feel if they showed little regard for your house and your belongings as well as your children's belongings? I personally felt like knocking their blocks off, taking care of business, and tying them from the rafters (if I had rafters). When I saw the children being mean to my precious children, the mother lioness in me came out! Just seeing Braden crying made me want to pounce! When their mother tried to reprimand them and let them know that they were in their home (referring to Braden, Brooke, and Emma), one of the children replied (words dripping in snot), "It's not their home, it's there mom's and dad's house!" What?!!!!!? I of course explained to my cuties, after the brats had left, that it was their house. We talked about how it was our house, and that we took care of the house as a family. The more aggravated I got, the more I thought about how my children had been treated and talked to, and then I asked myself the questions, 'Do you ever talk sharply to your children?' Yes. 'Do you ever say things that are not always kind out of frustration?' Yes. 'Do you ever lose your patience with your children?' Yes. 'What would you do if someone talked to them the way you do sometimes when you are at the peek of frustration and exhaustion?' I would want to take them out!

Aha!!!!!!!!

I need to make sure I treat my children how I want and expect others to treat them, with respect and consideration. I guess I too learned a lesson; no matter how frustrated or tired I get, I should always treat and speak to my children as Jesus would. Of course mothers get overtired and at their wits end (me not being an exception), but in the future, I will do better at instituting time outs for myself.

Having said that, I must rant though just a tad more. Why are some people taught to respect others' things? Why are some people taught to show respect when they enter another's home? On the other end of the spectrum, why are some people not taught any manners? Why do some people barge into someone's home as if it is an honor to have them in your presence? I think the world would be a better place if more people were schooled in the fine art of manners and civility! Until it happens, I am thinking of putting a sign on my door that says:

LEAVE your BAD manners at the door, or DON'T come in!!!!!!!!!!!!!