easter sundee.

Easter weekend has been nuts!

We've discovered we are much more in demand now that everyone knows this little girl goes wherever we go. She flirts and smiles and suddenly the invites are rolling in.

The Easter bunny certainly stopped by our house this year and our newest chicky did not go without. He (she?!) brought our Evie a new swimming suit, a chirping chick and summer sandals, among other things. And you didn't hear this from me, but I'm pretty sure the Easter bunny stole already purchased items (tags still on!) from Evie's closet in order to assemble her Easter basket. And guess what, she never caught on.

That Easter bunny is sly.

Ps. I hate peeps.

girlfriends in stripes.

Sometimes I dress Evie and I the same.

Sometimes I do it completely subconsciously.

And then, other times, I think I do it on purpose (shhh....)

This time I did it subconsciously.

Swear.

my hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me!

so won't you kill me
so i die happy

my heart is yours to fill or burst
to break or bury
or wear as jewelry
whichever you prefer.

I've been listening to Dashboard Confessional all afternoon.
Yep. That's right. I'm admitting it.

Why, you ask? Because it reminds me of High School! It reminds me of my friends! It reminds me of drives up the canyon and meeting at the park and Wendy's runs late at night. It reminds me of football games and Prom and sleepovers at Holley's house. It reminds me of pool hopping and cards on the front lawn in bikinis. It reminds me of boys and good times and sneaking out the basement window (Sorry, Mom!). It reminds me of being young and stupid.

a few of my friendliest friends. some of these girls climbed out of those windows with me.

It brings back good memories, okay?! What songs do that for you?

month three.

Look at you, Evie girl! 3 months old!

That means that together, you and I have survived 3 months of poop, pee, diapers, outfit changes, laundry, spit-up, throw-up, projectile vomit, tears, nap-times, bed-times, sleeping-through-the-night-times, kisses, open-mouthed kisses, drool, thumb-sucking, snuggling, rocking, holding, swaddling, fingernail-clipping, bathing, lotioning, singing, reading, medicine-dispensing, check-ups, up-chuck-ups, car-rides, story-times, bath-times, play-times and, of course, lots and lots of great times.

I have changed hundreds of diapers. You have soiled every piece of clothing you own (which explains this, um, eclectic? outfit you are wearing. Don't ask.) I have learned how to locate your binkie in the backseat and get it into your mouth while driving a car and texting at the same time (kidding! jeez!). I have learned that you love it when I sing, you love it more when I "shake-it". You think I'm hilarious. Your Dad thinks I'm nuts (but maybe a little bit hilarious, too, right G?).

I know how to soothe you, how to calm you, how to hold you, what to say. I know what you need, regardless of that fact that I leave the room and let your Daddy work it out sometimes. I know how you feel. I know what makes you happy. Your eyes follow mine when I leave the room.

I call you Evie baby, Evie girl, Evie Janie and lovey dove. I call you itty bitty and dovey girl and stinker woman, when you're being just that. I call you goober and lady and buggy (are you getting confused yet?). He calls you sweetie. He calls us his girls.
We both call you Ev.

I call you the best thing that has ever happened to me. I call you the love of my life.

I call you mine.

more mirror pictures. woop!

Today I...

• Got Evie's Easter basket assembled (as well as mine & G's which are currently hidden. And G, don't even try to find them, because you will fail miserably).
• Finally finished all the projects of yesterday, including the 3 month closet clean-out.
• Found some new music.
• Listened to that music all day long.
• Followed a homeless guy who was wandering around Target talking to himself in order to figure out what he was saying. I never figured it out. Gibberish, I say.
• Read some Mommy articles.
• Went for a drive.
• Taught G the proper way to wash a mushroom (they really don't need to be washed, if we're being honest).
• Cleaned. Of course. There is never a day in my life that doesn't include cleaning. You, too?
• Worked on extending those darn naps.
• And took a much needed nap, myself.

It was a good day. A better day.
And now my love is home and he is cooking me dinner.

Happy Wednesday.

the thumb.

So.
The thumb has made it's way into the mouth.

She did this in utero and then seemed to forget it was an option until recently.

I'm supposed to see this as a problem, right? The other day, a lady from my ward was holding her and noticed that she was sucking her thumb and proceeded to pull it out and say in a stern voice "Oh, no you don't!"

It kind of broke my heart. I mean, does she realize how long it took my baby to actually get that thumb inside of her mouth?! It is no easy task! I realize it's a bad habit, but when she finally succeeds after 10 minutes of trying, I am totally cheering for her.

So, I guess what I am trying to say is, I really don't care. If the thumb is still entering the mouth when she's a teenager, well then we have a problem.

a long day.

Yesterday it rained all day long.

Usually, the rain makes me feel cozy, romantic, happy.
Yesterday, the rain made me feel restless, instead.

Yesterday was the kind of day where Evie woke up early from every single nap.
Which would have been alright, except I had this overwhelming desire to get lots of things done.
So, I ended up getting lots of things partially done, instead.

At the end of the day, I couldn't help feeling like I'd started everything and accomplished nothing.
I felt a bit useless.

And then, Ev decided to hate nursing (she does this sometimes) which, after an hour, left me fighting back tears. So, I picked up my fussy baby, swaddled her tightly and put her to bed, empty stomach and all. She quickly closed her eyes and settled into sleep-giving me the free-time I'd been craving for the past 4 hours.

I thought about everything I could finish.
The laundry.
The cleaning.
The dishes.

I thought about the couch, about relaxing for a while.

And then I thought about my baby.
How she'd been impossible all night; crying for no reason, refusing to eat, for no reason. Sad, for no reason. How I'd accomplished next to nothing that day.
I thought about her for a while and then found myself back in her room.

I stood above her crib, watched her sleep.
I watched her eyelids flutter softly.
Watched her breathing, steadily, in and out.
Felt the contentment of a peaceful baby, grateful for sleep after a long, full day.

And then it came flooding back to me.
That feeling, that reassurance.

The one that tells me today was well spent.
Today was meaningful, important.
The one that reminds me that despite the messy house, the mutual exhaustion, the fussy baby...
I did something good today.

I watched my sleeping baby, and I was reminded that this is all I've ever wanted.
A rainy day, an endless afternoon, a fussy evening.
A long day spent being a Mom.

recently- the phone dump.

01. a rare early evening alone- downtown.

02. evie girl attends her own shower.

03. first time to all of church. and a little bit of spit-up.

04. cool pattern on my birthday skirt.

05. ev meets sadie jane.

06. sunset on my favorite drive home.

who said bloggers don't post bad pictures of themselves?!

This is why. 

THIS IS WHY!

This is why I don't have any good pictures of me and my beeb together and am forced to try take them myself while bending my elbows in ways they don't bend.
 

time: 6:55 pm

place: my living room.

occasion: Mother, Mother & baby all dressed up about to attend a baby shower. Woop, woop.

my thoughts: "Oh, look, we're all ready to attend Evie's last baby shower! And look! Evie is in a dress and she hasn't pooped on it yet! And I showered today (twice, almost!) and my Mama is here! I want a picture of this!" (could you handle any more explanation points?!)

So, I hand G the camera and say "Babe, love of my life, dearest husband GJO, please take a picture of us"

And he takes the camera from me, snaps a picture, looks at it and says "done".

And i think to myself "swell", but ask him to take a few more, for good measure.
 

And then I come home hours later and look at the picture.

You know, the picture he originally snapped.

The one he thought was the picture

And the picture is this picture. 

This picture!
FOR THE LOVE!

 Luckily, I also found this picture:

and I suppose this picture will do.

Ps. I wrote this entire post in all lower case letters and then realized it and had to go back and capitalize because I am now too crazy to accept a lower-case post in my life. Fun, fun.

 

a bad case of "the wants".

Ugh, "the wants".
"The wants" are a problem.

I blame "the wants" partially on the internet  (yes, that means all of YOU! I blame it on you!)

Here's the thing. My little home is decorated. Or at least, to me, it is decorated. We have lived here for several years now and during that time I have painted, arranged, re-arranged, collected, thrifted, changed, changed and changed again in order to make it a place that feels like home.

And it does. It feels like home. I love the letters and photo collages on the walls and the trinkets and odds and ends. I am utterly OBSESSED with the windows and natural lighting (we have discussed this, yes?). I like our bedroom, I like that I have hundreds of pillows everywhere (and more in storage, mind you). I like my collection of cookbooks stacked up on the shelf. I like my cake stand on the kitchen table. I like the Costco flowers in coke bottles. I like it here. I feel content here.

UNTIL I GET ON THE INTERNET.

I like this little home until I see your little homes and then I'm like, "Why didn't I think of that?!" and suddenly my wheels are turning and my fingers are itching to re-arrange and G is like, "I swear if you buy one more throw pillow I am making you SLEEP IN THE GARAGE!"

Not really.
But, soft of.

We could build a small castle with my collection of throw pillows.
We could turn a swimming pool into a lounge area with my collection of throw pillows.
I do not need anymore throw pillows!

Except, I really need these throw pillows.

And also, a headboard.
Because we don't even have a headboard and isn't that gross?!

I don't know what's wrong with me. Can the rest of you just decorate until it's furnished and then STOP? Why do I feel like I will never be done decorating? Why do I feel like my taste will forever be evolving? Why do I feel the need to sell everything I own and start over every 45 days?

I seriously think I have a problem.