The Internet is a Scary, Scary Place

Good thing I got married so young. This may very well have been my future.

I wonder if she's seen the movie Must Love Dogs. I wonder if she hates it.

(ps - I felt bad for a second about spreading this girl's crazy around but by the end I was pretty convinced it was a joke. I think. I hope. Please, for the love of the future of humanity.)

Happy Happy Birthday Landon Dear

Today Landon is two. Actually, he turned two on Saturday but by the time I actually get around to posting this, he will still be two. I'm working on tired mommy time here.

I remember when Landon was born (which is not really something you forget). I remember looking at the 2T clothes I got for presents and thinking "he will NEVER wear these." Not only has he worn them but they're now starting to resemble the 90's midriff muscle shirts. And I'll be honest, he's about five packs short of a six.

But here he is, in his two year-old glory. I'm sure every mother reading this is going "Oh you're cute. You think two years old is a big deal. Wait till they're (insert age of oldest child here)." Because sometimes I subconsciously think that about people saying "4 months! My baby is 4 months old!" But I truly thought I would never survive maintain some form of sanity keep him alive learn so much as a mother in this period of time. But I have. And I'm so grateful for the little laughing, hyper, stubborn, truck-loving, funny, sweet, golf-loving (like his daddy), mischievous, cookie-eating (like his mama), smart, quirky guy that he is.

Not only have I learned so much these past two years but he's not done too bad himself. So, in typical Mormon-mommy fashion, I will now list a few of Landon's accomplishments to date. Behold his awesomeness!!

In the last two years, Landon has:


Learned the entire alphabet backwards and forwards and is now working on deciphering ancient Mayan dialects using his "ABC Fun for Me!" rosetta stone.


Read five Dostoyevsky classics, in Russian. And then corrected the English translations.


Mastered the art of sharing to the point that he now just gives away his toys to kids he passes on the street.


Successfully initiated peace talks in the Middle East by giving Ghadafi two choices: stop being a butthead or go to time out.


Created a nuclear disarmament NGO based in Iran and North Korea called "Hands are not for hitting and bombs are not for dropping."


Rescued an injured baby bird and nursed it back to health with his sippy cup.


Published an article in the New England Journal of Medicine entitled: "Golden Poop: The Effects of Corn on the Digestive System."


Drew an exact replica of Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel on our driveway with chalk which created quite a stir about public displays of religion until the rain came and washed it all away. Which gave him a new idea for the backyard - an ark.


Potty trained himself, our cat and four dogs that live on our street.


Used his homemade satellite to pinpoint the exact location of a certain bearded terrorist mastermind and then used his Fisher Price Laugh & Learn phone (with direct line to the President) to relay the coordinates to a certain Navy special ops team.


Discovered new constellations in the shapes of a fire truck, backhoe loader and bulldozer.


Traced his genealogy back to Adam and Eve.


Learned how to spell genealogy and then taught his mama.


Began his Memoir, tentatively entitled "Doggies are Funny, I Like Trucks." 


Happy Birthday to my sweet little man! I can't wait to see what the next two years will bring (world peace? let's start working on that). 

Landon, working on yet another Great American Novel.
Or watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on YouTube. 

Whoa, Whoa, Whoa. You Mean it Gets Harder??

My good friend Brittney sent these articles to a couple of us to see what we thought. Now how in the heck did she get in my head? The things in these two articles are exactly things that I've been thinking a lot about lately - and things I definitely needed to hear.

http://powerofmoms.com/2011/06/little-kids-little-problems/

http://powerofmoms.com/2011/06/do-children-make-us-happy/

The first article definitely spoke to me the most. Ever since Landon was born I have often found myself wishing away his childhood with dreams of "if only he could sleep, feed himself, tell me what he wants, understand me, understand reason, play nicely, not play in the cat's water bowl, be potty trained, not run out into the parking lot even when I tell him not to, have an extended discussion about the meaning of life with me, etc, then my life would be so much easier."

But some of those things have come, and life isn't easier. It's just different. Good stuff came with the changes, but hard stuff did, too. I remember wanting Landon to walk so badly because I hated having him crawl around on dirty floors when we were out and about.

So he started to walk. Then he started to RUN.

Now his favorite thing to do is shout "WUN AWAY!" and then run away from me at top speed. Who knew little pudgy toddler legs could move at the speed of light when they're doing something they know they're not supposed to?

So things are never going to necessarily get easier - but I've found that the good comes with the bad, often in surprising ways. For instance, I hate the heart-stopping vision of my son running into oncoming traffic, but I am actually glad that he can walk and run around. He seems so much happier than when he was just crawling and able to get a lot more energy out. And more energy expended = better sleeping. The golden ticket.

So whenever those thoughts of "if only he could (insert wishful thinking here)" pop into my head I need to remember that every action (usually) has an opposite and equal reaction. Which means that, even though he's a lot more vocal on his opinions now, he can also choose to voice his little opinion that "mama, I yuv you." And that's something I should never wish away.

Sugar Baby

Sometimes I think that God thinks I'm funny. Not in funny in the "A Priest, a Rabbi and a Mormon Bishop all walk into a bar - OUCH" kind of way but more funny in the "pat her on the head because she thinks she knows what's going on" kind of way. Kind of like when someone gets all dressed up and thinks they're looking super hot as they're walking down the street when in reality they have no idea they have pink undies static-clinged (clung?) to the back of their shirt. I'm sure God doesn't laugh at our misfortune, but you have to admit - seeing that would be kind of funny.

So I like to think I provide plenty of amusement up there. Mainly because I often do think I have it all figured out. Honestly, sometimes I can just hear this quiet chuckling and "Oh, Debbie" with a shake of the head. Usually that's the more rational part of my brain but I try to block it out as much as possible.

Case in point: This post.

Seriously, I knew what was going on. I felt super mood-swingy, more lethargic and just generally more squishy. Thank you, cookie dough dinner. So I wrote about it. I had taken pregnancy tests the week before so I figured I just needed to decompress all my sugar-laced feelings.

((Soft chuckling. Pat on head.))

Later that SAME day, I took a test again (since I had to call the OB to schedule a check up and they always make me take one) and this is what I got:

I actually took a third one the next day too. You know what they say about 3 witnesses...

So it turns out there is a bun in my oven. I'm just hoping it's as sweet as the one I previous thought was taking up all that room (and preferably not made of cinnamon).

I have to admit I was a little relieved that there was something to explain all the weirdness. I am growing a human being, after all so I'm allowed to be crazy, right? (SAY RIGHT, SAY RIGHT!!!!).

Now that my sugar bun and I are finally spending more time outside of the bathroom then in it, I am happy to say that Landon will be a big brother on December 5th!

Oh, boy. Talk about thinking that you have it all figured out. Poor kid has no idea what's about to hit him. ((soft chuckle, patting Landon's head)).

The Big 3-0

Today is Tyler's 30th birthday. You may remember his 29th, memorialized here. But probably not. You know why? Because I did nothing. Well, not nothing. But my hands were tied. How do you celebrate someone's birthday when you don't even know if they'll be home in time for their own party? And what bodily fluid they'll be wearing when they do show up? It's a struggle, I tell you.

But today Tyler is 30. It's big. It's momentous. It's old-er. He can no longer look at Jersey Shore kids and be like "that's my generation." Not that he could ever do that before. Or that he ever wanted to. But, you know, now he really can't. Actually, now I kind of wish I was 30 too.

The funny thing about Tyler is that I think he has been 30 since he was 10. Always so responsible. Always so reasonable. Always so...elderly. I love him because he taught me that going to bed at 9 is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

So in honor of Tyler's 30th birthday, I have decided to come up with 30 ways to describe him. 30 things that make up the man that is my best friend, my husband and the person I feel lucky to have been chosen by.

TYLER

1. Loving
2. Compassionate
3. Responsible
4. Pragmatic
5. Calm
6. Awesome father
7. Handsome
8. Confident,
9. But Humble
10. Hard worker
11. Dedicated
12. Very handy - he can figure out anything
13. Fun - he can make our son laugh more than anything else
14. Kind
15. Patient - mostly these are in response to me
16. Forgiving
17. Easy to please
18. Uncomplicated
19. NORMAL - he's so normal it's almost weird. I like to think I make up for this in strides
20. Funny
21. Quiet - sometimes, when it's about others. He never needs the spotlight.
22. Strong
23. Hopeful - always knows everything will be okay
24. Affectionate
25. A natural leader, even when he doesn't want to be
26. Admirable
27. Strong-willed
28. Protective
29. Unassuming
30. My opposite in so many ways that we seem to fit together perfectly

Happy Birthday Tyler! I love you!

How could you not love a guy willing to fly a butterfly kite because his son likes the streamers that hang off the back? Impossible, I say.