Not For The Weak Stomach

Lately we have had a lot of this:




So I made more of these:

My Good Finds

Fabric that screams I NEED TO BE IN THE LITTLE GIRLS' ROOM.
..Pillow? Quilt? MMmmmm...



A pack of treasures from a yard sale.




Hair things, headbands, dress trim. The possibilities are endless.

For Lou

An easy little dress for Miss Lou.

NORAH

Miss Norah!

How thrilled was I when Jen (my sister in law) announced she was eight weeks pregnant, and I too was eight weeks pregnant. Jake and I just looked at each other and laughed. My in laws cried. It was so awesome.

And the fun keeps going. Here are Norah and Indie Lou, a week apart. Night and day different. I love everything about Norah. I sort of wish she were mine too. I wish I had a girl named Norah, I wish I had a dark skin brown eyed baby, I wish I could stare at those eyelashes and photograph them non stop. I just love her. She is the (second) most beautiful baby that exists.

Them Carrolls make great babies.

Thoughts

I. Did. Not. Sleep.

Really, miss sassy pants could not sleep. That is what I get for letting her have a bottle right before she went to bed because I was off getting spiritual upliftment at relief society. So much for relief. The last time she had a bottle she was up in the night with issues too. Apparently it just doesn't pass through well.. or at all. So I got some spiritual enlightenment but I also got exactly what I did not need: Lack of sleep. Lack of exercise. Being awake from 2:00-6:00 does not warrant a 6:30 workout. Sorry. What little sleep I did get I was rocking a cradle with my arm during it.

So there are all these horses on the road that lead out to my house. I love this, I know and recognize all these horses, know where in the field they are at each time of day, know when they lay, when they have babies. It's really cool. This one up here lives with a field of miniature horses. That have babies. Miniature, miniature horses. Jake calls them dwarf horses. So rude. But the babies are tiny! Sadly they are barely seen in the field because the grass and weeds just drown them. But when I got up for the first time to go meet my running partner the other day, they were right by the fence! So now I know next time I sleep enough to wrap my head around waking up early I will take my camera to document their tininess.






The only time my kids are together are when they are snuggling (bugging) Indie Lou on the bed whilst I get ready. So here is a nice little all in our pj's snap shot. Messy heads and all.






This is how it usually is. Piper snuggling her and Beck jumping around trying to wrestle them. (Binkie in tow of course.)







My friend, Julie, has been teaching our kids swim lessons. She so totally rocks. It's been so fun hanging out together everyday and a guarantee of seeing my friends everyday. And it's really odd that Piper is so old, jumping off the diving board and swimming.



Ok gonna chug another diet coke and wish it were legal to drink coffee, and then keep going with day and try not to fall asleep. And pray the stars align and all the kids nap together so I can too :)
Or so I can at least see who gets kicked off SYTYCD.

On A Happier Note!

Did you know I love Lance Armstrong? I do.

When Jake and I were dating he watched the Tour and always has. If you know Jake you know he is a biker. To say the least. And he has got me enjoying all the bike races as well-paying extra so we can have the channels on our tv, debatable.

One of my favorite things to do with my loverboy (he doesn't even know this) is watch the Tour every night in the summer. I usually fall asleep on his lap, but that's part of the eludement.

My road bike is put together and calls my name after this recent baby. And I am thinking I better initiate it in celebration of the Tour. Only for you, Lance.

Funny thing about how I got to liking Lance Armstrong, my friends, the Williams had his books in their office room. Not surprising if you know their super awesome, active family. We'd sit in there and talk on the phone or play on the computer and I would flip though and read and look at the pictures, that is when my interest developed. My interest has no real merit, however, I can't even tell you why I really like him. So.. maybe I should make up some valid reason. He is hot, and he rides bikes, and does/or doesn't do good things for the world/himself, and apparently I like bikers.. so sue me.

I. Don't. Know. A. Good. Title.

Well I can warn you right now this isn't going to be a cherry coated post. And why I feel inclined to blog and let strangers and lots of people read it-I don't know.. or maybe no one will see it at all, let's not flatter myself with the thought that many people care what I have to say at all. Doesn't matter. But it seems blogs are either outlets or a platform in which one uses to brag, consider mine today, just for today- the outlet.
I know as a mom you aren't supposed to need anything from anyone. At least that is what I learned from example. My mom never needed or needs anything from anyone. Mom's are callused and invisible. I am callused. I am invisible. It's the life I chose, for sure. But it doesn't always feel great. You know logically each time you have another kid that it's going to mean more work and less time for yourself. But you can do it, you have done it the prior times and been fine. It's worth it. Except when it feels like it's not. Which it sometimes feels that way. It sometimes feels like a piece of you gets lost a little more each day. Everyone once in a while when I have a moment of peace and quiet and hear a song, or smell the smell of summer or the sound of crickets on a summer night I get a flashback of who I am, or who I once was. Who am I now-I couldn't even tell you half the time. The answer to that question most days is mom. I am a mom. What else do you need to know?
Well for a person who has always felt the need to define myself, to spend time alone, to have privacy, to express myself through hobbies, or activities I need to know more.
Some days I can do everyone's dishes, wipe up pee, referee constant fighting, clean up meal after meal, and go through the day with a half a shower, a half a second to get ready and a millisecond to paint my nails only to not have time for them to dry and thus they are only smeared. But do I have time to take off the nail polish? Are you kidding. Some days I can do this, happily, gratefully. I have a family, that is awesome. I get to stay at home and raise my kids myself. Most days I do this happily. But some days I don't. Some days I want to be more than a mother and a maid. Days where I want to be treated other than this mother and a maid and this invisible person with super powers that enable her to be callused with the thought that all I am good for is picking up after other human beings, that these other human beings are above doing it themselves. My arms are only for holding babies and laundry. Not holding cameras or new clothes on hangers in Nordstroms. My hands are for changing bums, wiping noses, and disinfecting floors. They aren't hands with painted nails that get the chance to touch my loverboy uninterrupted. My boobs, well they are used for things they used to not be used for too.

Anyways being a mom is a tricky thing. It's a roller coaster day by day. We turn into this closet-like thing that people of all sizes can just reach into our shelves and take what they need. They only refill our shelves when they are empty.

I actually know why I feel inclined to share my thoughts with no privacy. I believe in being real. In being honest. This is who I am. It's not always good and I know people snicker at things I say and do. My bluntness. I know mostly moms read this, my dear friends who mean the world to me. Even though we like to put on a happy face of perfection at times, I think and hope there are times even the most positive of you with the best attitude have these days. Or weeks. Or months. Especially after having babies. Which many of you are doing or going through. We need to band together. Help each other instead of compete with each other. Say the things we are ashamed to feel or think. Afraid we will be judged or looked down on, or our husbands will be mad or offended. So..amidst all the judgment and offense I am sure is abundant in this entry-maybe it offered something someone needed. And if not-at least I feel better! Which means more energy to put my arms to work holding a baby and get my hands busy disinfecting those floors.


And here are some pictures.

Here is Piper, don't her eyes just scream "I LOVE YOU MOM"




In this one she is saying, "When I get home I am going to go into your makeup box and destroy all your expensive makeup. That will show you."

At least we can smile nice for the camera.




Ah Peanut. I love you. I heart you. Please stay sweet.





And thanks to all the swing advisers. I bought one and I am pretty sure heaven sent it down in an Amazon box. She loves it.