Kicking the Habit

I think, when it's time to transition your child from one phase of his babyhood to the next, not only does the baby need to be ready, but the mommy needs to be ready, too. For instance, potty training. Even if the kid shows all the signs and seems ready, if Mommy's not ready, it ain't gonna happen.

That's how I was with Micah's binkie. My two oldest never really liked binkies, but boy, oh, boy, did Micah ever love his. I couldn't get him to go to bed without it. It calmed him down when he was in one of his inevitable mood swings (the kid is a toughie). I knew, when his front teeth were looking a little bucked, that it was probably time to let the binkie go, but I, as a busy, sick, pregnant mom, just was not ready to give that up. I did succeed in making binkies only a bedtime and naptime deal, but I wasn't ready to cut them out completely.

I was talking to my mom about it maybe a week ago. My sister, Beads, was an enormous binkie fan. I remember sitting on our couch, finishing a book, and crying, because the book was so sad. (I'm a sensitive girl.) Beads came up to me (she was two or so at the time), saw me crying, and took her binkie out of her mouth, offering it to me. So dang cute.

Mom knew she had to break Beads of the binkie, but just couldn't get herself to do it. She would throw the binkies away, and then find herself, later, frantically digging through the garbage, disinfecting the binkies, and continuing with Beads' binkie habit. Ma told me that she finally had to cut off the sucky part of each binkie before throwing them into the garbage. That way, she couldn't dig them out to use them. And she didn't want to go spend money on more binkies.

I told Ben about what Mom did all those years ago, and he said, "Well, let's do it!"

"I don't know if I'm ready, Ben. Plus, if we ruin all of these binkies, what will we do for the baby that's coming later this year?" Yes, I am too cheap to go buy a bunch more.

"How about if I hide the binkies from you? That way, we won't throw them away, but we can break Micah of the habit."

"Wellll, okay..."

Ben was lazy. He put them on a shelf that I sometimes walk by. I totally used one the next day for Micah's nap. I'm like a drug junkie, I swear. Ben discovered the binkies that evening and chastized me, and then really hid them well. I haven't been able to find them since.

It's been several days now, and we're actually doing okay!! It wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it would be. I've had to kind of replace binkies at night and bedtime with a sippy cup full of water, and that seems to have done the trick. So someday I'll have to break him of the sippy cup. But at least I'm out of binkie land. Until the next little person comes into our life.

Why didn't anyone tell me my hair looked like that?

My sis, Beads, was here for a few days last month, and I'm waiting for her to send me pics, the little devil. I didn't bring my camera to anything, because she always had hers and promised to send them to me. I shoulda known better. Beads is so busy that she barely has time to use the bathroom. Forget sending pictures. Oh well. You live and learn. From now on, camera at all times.

One of the things Beads really wanted to do was go skiing. Dad said he'd pay for us to go, and I hesitated for about one millisecond, and then said, "H YES I AM GOING!!!" Yeah, it was a foolhardy decision, since I'm pregnant, but I just couldn't resist. I never get to go skiing because it's too dang expensive. I had to take advantage.

However, the night before our skiing extravaganza, I was soooooooooo sick. I barfed several times that day. I just felt horrible. The morning of the event, I was still really nauseated. And I thought, What am I thinking? There is no way I can ski when I'm feeling this way. So I called Beads and said, "Dude, I am way too sick to go. Tell Dad I'm so sorry. And have a good time." It broke my heart, but it was ridiculous to go in the condition I was in. She was very understanding and said she'd relay the message to Dad.

I knew I would be hearing from Dad. He is a major talker-intoer. A peer pressure king. He called me once to try to talk me into it. Then he made Beads call to try to talk me into it. In the background, I heard him yelling, "Look at how BEAUTIFUL it is outside!!!" And then he made Beads text me one more time. I still said no, there was no way I was going to do well.

I was lying in bed with Ben at the time, and he rolled over to look at me. He said (and this makes him probably the best husband in the world), "You need to go. You need to get away from our kids. Go up there and just enjoy the fresh air. If you are too sick to ski, sit on the deck next to that grill and just breathe the air. You deserve this." That is what talked me into it. I really did need to get away from the kids.

So I called Beads and told her to tell Dad I was coming and to inform Dad that he is the devil.
Then I threw on some thermals and got ready to go.

And you know what? I did okay. I felt pretty gross the whole day, but I didn't barf on the hill once. Beads, Dad, and Nat were kind enough to go slow for me - to pause probably more than they wanted to. And I appreciated it. It felt so amazing to be up there. I love skiing sooooo much. And it felt so great not to have to take care of any kids. :)

I would forget about the nausea while we were skiing, but then on the ski lift, it would hit me. But I kept everything down and did alright. Thank goodness. I'm so glad I went.

Beads was making me laugh so hard all day. She brought her iPod to listen to while we skiied, and whenever we would pause on the mountain to take a breather, she would start shaking her booty to the music, or sing along, or try to make a drum roll with her tongue. I was laughing so hard. She is hilarious.

Beads brought Mom's camera (it's nice and small) and we took some pics at the bottom of the hill:

Who's the girl with the Tina Turner hair? you ask. C'est moi. I had no idea how ridiculous I looked. I really should have put it in braided piggy-tails or something. Holy Shnikeys. This just adds to the hatred I have for my current haircut. Grow, hair, grow!!!

Oh, and Lex, we missed you. Frown.

We need a do-over.

Every year, our wedding anniversary is Ben's duty, and Valentine's Day is my duty. But we have a little problem with that program. Ben makes most of the money. So when our anniversary comes around, he does all of these amazing things for me. When Valentine's Day comes around, he won't let me spend money to do amazing things for him. This year, I wanted to go to the temple and then out to sushi (not my choice, but I knew it would make his day). I got a baby-sitter. I made reservations at the restaurant. I made plans to go buy him a pair of jeans as a gift. When I told him of my plans, he frowned. "Oh, Kar, we don't even have one penny to spend on Valentine's Day this year," he said.


I frowned, too.

So I canceled our reservations and our baby-sitter and pouted for a few days. On the Saturday night that we were supposed to be on our date, we went to Wal-Mart to get some groceries as a family. And Ben let me get some makeup to cover up my Pregnancy Pizza Face. (I'm not usually a foundation-wearer, but it's become a necessity at this time to do something about this face of mine.) The makeup cost a pretty penny, and I told him we could just skip the makeup to save money, but he told me that could be my Valentine's Day gift:

And may I just say that foundation has come a long way in the past few years. I hardly feel like I'm wearing it, and I like that. It may be a habit that needs to stay after the pregnancy is over.

We just got our tax return, and most of it is going to not-fun-but-necessary places, but I asked Ben if we could use a teeny weeny bit to have a Redemption Valentine's Date. And if I could buy him some jeans. And if I could buy myself a cheap maternity dress to go with my amazing shoes. (Yes, I know that this means I will have gotten two Valentine's gifts. But I'm truly, truly okay with that!) And he said YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!! So I need to call myself a sitter.

Holidays are very emotional for me. Especially this time of year. I just need something to cling to, something to look forward to, during these long, cold, stuck-inside months. So when we can't celebrate, even in a small way, I struggle. So this will be really great for me. I suppose I should shower and go to the mall, eh? And drag my naughty children along.

Dylan's Valentines

Ben bought some valentines for Dylan's class a week or so before Valentine's Day. As soon as Dylan got the list of kids in his classroom in preparation for Valentine's Day, he was raring to go. He addressed all of the valentines himself, as soon as he got home from school, without even stopping to take off his coat or grab a snack:

He had one extra valentine in his packet, and guess who he gave it to?

He is just the best. I love that little man.

The Best Idea Ever!

A lady in my mom's ward told my mom that she and her husband got a room in a local hotel one night, just so that she could invite all of her kids and grandkids over to swim in the nice hotel pool. What a good idea! Mom decided we should do just that. She took me shopping for the warmest hotel pool. Literally. We went to two different hotels, and she made me kneel down and feel the water to see which pool was warmer. We chose the warmer of the two, and Mom booked a room.

We had a blast. I quite honestly think my dad had the most fun of all. He was just having a ball squirting all of us with his squirt gun:

This little swimming extravaganza was good for him (he's a CPA, and tax season is HARD on CPA's). At one point, Nat and I were in the hot tub - actually, Nat was in the hot tub. My legs were in the hot tub, because I'm not allowed all the way in (sniff). We were getting squirted, so we looked around to see which of our naughty kids was squirting us, and it was Dad.

Sadie, in a squirting battle with Dad:

Just when we thought the evening couldn't get more fun, Mom ordered pizza, and we bought a pay-per-view movie in the hotel room and ate it. Whoa. That was a misplaced modifier. It sounds like we ate the movie. Let me try that again. Mom ordered pizza, we bought a pay-per-view movie, and we ate the pizza while in the hotel room. Much better. That pizza was amazing. Pizza Hut. The only way to go. The new Domino's pizza is degoute. That means "disgusting" in French. :) It's like a piece of paper with a bunch of ketchup on it. Blech.

Here we are, sitting on towels on the bed (the duvet cover was white, and we didn't want to ruin it), and watching Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs:

Which was hilarious, by the way. And do you like my swimming bangs? They are winners. I often look like a winner nowadays.

Micah was being his usual twitty self, so Mom took him on a walk through the hotel halls, and she came upon some kind of fashion extravaganza show. All of these different ladies were selling knit hats, cute scarves, shoes, clothes, you name it, in all of these booths. So Mom came and got me, Nat, and Sades, and she took us to the booths and said to pick a pair of shoes, on her!!! (Could my mom be any cooler??)

Nat couldn't find any she liked in her size, but I found these little beauties:

Aren't they cute, despite the pasty white feet they are on?? I don't have one dang thing that matches these shoes. That's my next project. Finding a cute little maternity dress to go with 'em. This is my new clothing philosophy - buy cute earrings, necklaces, and shoes, and then find clothes that match them. I'm tired of buying clothes and then never being able to find shoes or earrings to go with them. So this is my new method. I think it's easier to find clothes to come to the shoes than shoes to come to the clothes.

They were also selling all of these cute little headbands, and my mom bought one for Sadie:

Sadie LOVES that headband. It's really so cute.

Thanks, Ma and Pa, for the amazing evening and shoes.

Slides, anyone??

Not Playing Possum

I promise that she literally fell asleep at the table like this one night:

I love pictures like this. And look at how big her feet are getting. She has her daddy's feet and legs.

Easy, but gross.

My ma gave me a sugar cookie mix; I thought I would use that to make our annual Valentine's cookies, instead of mixing my own, having to put it in the fridge for an hour, blah blah blah. It's funny; the mix only made, like, fourteen cookies. Which ended up being perfect for our decorating extravaganza. Usually, the kids decorate like two cookies and then lose interest, leaving me to decorate like fifty others. So this way, I only had to decorate 12 by myself. Not bad.

However.... I am a big Baked Goods Snob. A BGS, if you will. These cookies didn't taste quite the way I like 'em. I don't think the kids were huge fans, either. Usually, we all gobble up sugar cookies, but these stayed in our cookie bowl for a couple of weeks, until I finally just threw the rest out.

My friend, Patty, asked me soon after Valentine's Day, "Did you leave some valentine's cookies on our doorstep?" I told her that our cookies tasted a little too funky to give to people; that it wasn't us. :) I only like to give away food that I know will taste alright. I don't know; cake mixes taste okay to me, but not cookie mixes. Go figure.