Am I The Only One Who...

Have you ever heard of this thing called Pin-ter-est?

Ok, you have?  Have you ever heard of crack cocaine?

You get where I'm going with this?

So since we're all on the wagon, or off the wagon, or whichever indicates we're clearly addicted...Am I the only one who....

Doesn't pin something and just assumes that later I'll remember who pinned it.  And what it was.  And where it was pinned.

No?  Anyone?

What about...

You pin something and it takes longer than an nth of a second and you start to think, "Oh no.  Maybe it won't repin.  Maybe it will get rejected and I'll never be able to pin it and then I don't know what I'll do without a pin for how to clean microfiber couches?!!!!  Oh.  It pinned.  Approved!"

Or my favorite, that always makes me look inside myself, really get introspective...

I pin something.  Another friend pins the same thing...but from a different friend!  How dare they!  I pinned it first!  Me!  I pinned it!  Not HER!  She got it from ME!  And I got it from someone elses website...

Yeah, totally logical.

Oooh, oooh, what about getting annoyed when someone pins 7,986 quilt pictures.  And then you pin 7,645 crochet pictures.  Totally different when I do it.  Definitely ok, then.

Hmmm...what about when you're on a pinning high.

You know, you're really flying now.

Pinning left and right.

It's all good stuff today, man, all good stuff.

And then it hits you.  Like that time you took your newly paid off credit card to Target.  That's right, you've just pinned 145 pins!  Congratulations!  Everyone now knows you neglect your kids and have no life!!

Do you ever lie to your husband and tell him you just whipped up that recipe?

Do you ever hear yourself saying, "I have a pin for that."

Have you ever had a question and completely bypassed Google and went to your "Neat Tricks" board?

My name is Kelly and I have a Pinteresting problem.

Welcome.

Sweet C's Baptism

It has been an eventful month.  Full of the Spirit.  And as anyone who has ever dwelt with the Spirit for an extended amount of time knows...it's exhausting.  In a good way.  

Our wonderful neighbor was baptized on the 16th.  It was...unlike anything I have ever experienced.  My heart was bursting with joy.  It literally hurt.  You know...hurt so good (name that awful band).  

I asked Cohen how this all happened.  I wanted to share this with family and friends because it was just so sweet.

"Well," he said, thinking hard.  "One Sunday, Logan came over to play.  I told him I couldn't play because we were going to church, but I asked him to ask his mom and dad if he could come with us!"  And he did!

And there you have it.  Logan started coming to church with us and burrowing a special place in my heart just for him.  I have never felt so much love for someone elses child.  I know that sounds weird, but it's true.  He's like the 5 year old I never gave birth to.  He comes over to hang out during the day, even when the kids aren't home yet.  He's a stud muffin.

At last years Relief Society Conference, I asked C (my sweet neighbor, I won't share her name without asking her first) if she wanted to come and watch it with me.  Be my buddy.  Sit by me because I was friendless ;)  She was gracious enough to come.

I was worried and afraid to ask her, I'll admit it.  But I had a lot of support from my husband and my Heavenly Father, the latter who encouraged me with his Spirit.  

After conference, we talked out in the parking lot about what we had watched.  C cried through the whole thing.  She pointed at the church building and said, "That.  That in there is what it's all about."

Later she told me that she had been searching and searching for this feeling.  She said that she had most of the story, but what she learned during the missionary discussions and attending church "finished the story."  

She had a strong testimony before even knowing anything about the Gospel.  I'm so impressed with how far she's come.  She's an example to me in all things. I think about what she's had to give up, and the trials she's had to endure just to become a member, and it strengthens me.  And now that she is a member, she's stalwart in learning all she can.  She sucks it up like a sponge.  Her questions are meaningful, her comments are heart felt and filled with the spirit, and I know everyone in our ward is in love with her.

So amazing.  I could go on and on.  But I'm crying so I won't.  

When I think about moving to Arizona, I feel like it was for this purpose.  I know the Lord would have sent others into C's life, but I'm so grateful we listened to the Spirit and came to Arizona.  So grateful we could watch and be a part of her miraculous conversion.  

Thinking of this area, the Spirit whispers in my mind this scripture from Doctrine and Covenants Section 4:

"Now behold, a marvelous work is about to come forth among the children of men.

Therefore, oh ye that embark in the service of God, see that ye serve him with all your heart, might, mind and strength, that ye may stand blameless before God at the last day.

Therefore, if ye have desires to serve God ye are called to the work:

For behold the field is white already to harvest; and lo, he that trusteth in his sickle with his might, the same layeth up in store that he perisheth not, but bringeth salvation to his soul."

After talking with C, we discovered the hand of our Heavenly Father was working to bring us together long before we even moved here.  About the time my little family was praying about where we should move (and Cohen stood up and said with quite authority that the Spirit told him Árizona') C's husband had a dream that Heavenly Father told him to bring his children to Him.  

It's amazing, seeing events, like dominoes, falling into place with perfection.  It has strengthened my testimony like no other experience I've had yet.  

I know the Gospel is true.  Even if the people struggle, we are not perfect.  But the Gospel is perfect.  I'm grateful for this knowledge.  People, friends and family comment a lot, "You're so happy.  You have such happy kids.  You're marriage is so strong." And while these comments aren't always the truth, I know that what they see is the Spirit that's in us.  I know that's what makes me happy.  I know it's what makes my husband and children happy.  And for that, I'm eternally grateful.

Carrots: An Introduction

"I'm trying something new today, mom?  Well, alright..."

"Ummm...what, pray tell, is this stuff?"

"Oh...no...this is awful."

 "Please don't make me eat more."

"Please?"

Sorry, son.  It's for your own good.  And the good of mommy's, um...mammories.

"You do know I can mess with your sleep.  Seriously mess.  It.  Up."

Threats will get you nowhere, son.

"Why do you hate me!!!???"

Carrots.  It may perhaps be his hair color, but 'tis not his choice of vegetable.

Where We Been At

Neffy is back?

What the WHAT?

Well, we've been busy.  And by busy I mean...4 kids is A LOT more than 3.  You would think that it would just be 1 more kid...but it's really like 10 more.  No amount of math can account for the laundry, dishes and pure chaos.  

But when we're not folding clothes and hosing down muddy kids, we're having fun.

For instance...

We went to Utah back in December (is it really FEBRUARY?  Crazy.)

And since we and our entire extended family were particularly naughty this year, we had to forgo Santa and go straight to the Grinch.

He was absolutely terrifying!  It was awesome.

Why yes, these people are my family.  

And because they're adorable, here are some pictures of my beautiful children:

While in Utah we got to visit our besties.

I'm confused about this picture.  I don't know what they're all staring at and it's driving me crazy trying to remember!  I'll log it away with other things I don't know...like where my car keys currently reside and why my cell phone refuses to stay charged.

This kid is seriously the best looking 3 year old.

And then we had just about the most awesome New Year's Eve EVER!

How can you not when you're partying with these "wild and cuh-razy" guys.

(P.S. Not a one of these pictures has been edited.  I love them in raw glory.  Ok...I'm lazy.)

My son is miserable because it's cold in Utah in the winter.  Which is why we moved to Arizona.  WHY ARE WE IN UTAH IN THE WINTER?  WHY DIDN'T THEY COME TO ARIZONA?  WHERE IT'S SUNNY AND WARM AND DELICIOUS?  These are questions to which we may never know the answers...

Yes, reader, I married him!  Yikes...creepy molester much?  Just kidding honey!  I love you.

I see my son is trying to emulate everything about his father.  Including his serial killer pose. 

We had some wicked Battleship games.  There were many deaths/few survivors.

Pretty sure this picture is self explanatory.  Kembry with a yellow nose.  Of course.

And I think Chloe is the perfect end to a long and boring post.  She just adds a splash of adorablness.  Which is a word.

Gratitude in the Midst of Sadness

I don't always like to blog about my spiritual experiences, or put them anywhere on the internet, because it's very hard to translate spiritual experiences into written word.

Especially to the public at large.

I also tend to not like to cast my pearls before the swine.  NOT THAT YOU'RE SWINE!  On the contrary, old friends, it is because I love you and trust you that I move forward with this post.

Today I'm sharing because...how do I put this...my testimony is burning in my chest so fiercely, and has been since yesterday.  The Spirit seems to be urging my thoughts to focus on an important lesson I'm supposed to learn.

I read a few articles yesterday about "feminism in the LDS church" and it disturbed me.  It hurt to hear that there were people being so hung up on the worldly things of the Church, and less concerned about the important things: Christ, sharing the gospel, and growing closer to our Heavenly Father.  

I'm not going to link to the articles because I don't want to propagate anything that was said.  There was nothing in them that was spirtually uplifting aside from ONE out of NINETY THREE comments.  The articles themselves were enough to make me cry.

Really, I cried.

(Brett reminded me that when the 3 Nephites asked to remain on Earth the remainder of it's days, that Jesus told them they would not suffer any pain, but for the sorrows of the world.  I understand that much more now than I ever did.)

And so I turned to the prophets voice.  I turned on conference and let the Spirit fill the void of hurt that was growing inside of me.

The Spirit reminded me of the Book of Mormon.  And that this blessed revelation was meant for our times.  

I could not have been reminded of that even more forcefully after today's devastating news.

During wars in the Book of Mormon we read about countless numbers of men being slaughtered.  Literally, they could  not count all the bodies.  We also read that even women and children were slaughtered.  Even children.

My heart aches and rejoices at the same time.  It's a weird, conflicting feeling, to be sure.  I'm so sad to know that our times are like those in the Book of Mormon.  That war is upon us.  Not just wars of nations, but wars on morality and goodness.  Wars against God and His people.  Even wars among His own people.

But I rejoice knowing that, like the times of the Book of Mormon, we have a living Prophet.  That we know the direction in which we need to head.  Lehi saw our times.  Saw all the wicked standing in a great and spacious building, laughing at those of us who stood firm in our testimonies and clung to the iron rod.  

I rejoice feeling the Spirit of comfort and knowledge.  Rejoice knowing that Heavenly Father hears our pleas, comforts us in our trials, and directs us when all the light in the world seems to have gone out.

I cannot imagine the sorrow of those who have lost their little children today.  Instead of planning for Christmas, they will be planning funerals.  

I am so grateful that the Lord has given me the gift of the Spirit.  Has comforted my aching heart.  I hope and pray He will do the same for all those families suffering.

NanoWriMo

I can't believe I haven't blogged for OVER a month.

I am ashamed.

And it's only going to get worse.

I have about 4 million pictures I need to upload to the blog.  We've been having way too much fun over here.  Turns out when it's not a billion degrees outside, there's lots of way fun things to do.

Like hiking.

Visiting a Ghost Town...ooooooooh.

Having friends come to stay with us.

Swimming, swimming, swimming.

Playing with babies.

Getting a new (to me) hutch!  I've wanted one FOREVER!

And going to Utah (that doesn't make any sense at all!)

Regardless, we've been doing a lot of fun things.  And I can't wait to blog about every single one of them and make you all snore yourselves into a nice, sticky drool puddle.

But November is National Novel Writing Month.  And THIS is the year I'm going to participate.  I keep putting it off, saying things like, "I can't write a novel with kids crawling all over me!"  And I'm probably right.  Well, *snort* I usually am right, but anyway.  I've discovered I can mostly type while I'm nursing.  And I just need to find the time.

And neglect my children a little more.  What?!  It teaches them independence.  I should get an award for being such a forward thinking mom.

So if anyone wants to join me, because even crappy writers need support groups, email me!  I'm totally stoked to get to know other writers.  I'm starting my writing career by saying "totally".  Oi.  This does not bode well.

See you all in December!!!

Life As Everyone Wants Us To Know It

FB:
"Oh my gosh!  These carrot sticks are divine!  I love eating healthy!"

Reality:
They just downed 50 Cheeto Puffs.

Rationalization: 
Cheeto Puffs look like carrot sticks.  And they are divine.


FB:
I'm so excited to run my 50 millionth marathon!

Reality:
They take a picture at the finish line with sweat they earned...walking to the finish line from their car.

Rationalization:
I'm not actually going to run a freaking marathon!  You kidding me?  But everyone else is.  So I should, too.  Even if it is just in my mind.

FB:
I love being a mom.  It's the greatest thing in the world.

Reality:
Probably just got pooped on.  And slapped by a two year old.  And probably have sixty loads of laundry sitting in the middle of their living room floor.  And probably, they haven't showered in 5 days.  And probably, that smell is them.

Rationalization:
Reality sucks.

FB:
"I feel fabulous after pushing out my 15 pound baby!  I could run home from the hospital if they let me!  I even brought my size 2 jogging pants just in case!  They totally fit me!"

Reality:
Probably wearing a size two DIAPER to catch all the blood leaking out of their hoo hoo.  The only running going on is down their leg.  You know what fits them?  That mumu they've already leaked a gallon of milk all over.

Rationalization:
Reality sucks.


Kelly's Corner (This is where I go to spout out my opinion.  I.e., this entire blog is my corner.)

It's really wonderful that people live these perfect lives.  But I don't.  Not even close.  Most of the time I am deliriously happy.  I have awesome friends, a great guy, cute kids, and a McDonalds right up the street from me.

We have little debt, a nice home.  Strong testimonies.  Food in the pantry.

We have a good life.  But that doesn't mean that sometimes it doesn't suck.  Sometimes our life is horribly difficult.

Sometimes my perfect husband is one insensitive comment away from getting a hatchet in his head.

Sometimes my cute kids are covered in marker from head to toe.  And stink to high heaven.  And scream at me.  Sometimes they even say they hate our house.  They call me a mean mom.  Often, they don't eat all their vegetables.

Sometimes I cry for hours.  Go to bed at 6.  Let the kids stay up way past their bedtime so that Brett has to put them to sleep when he gets home from Young Mens, and I can just go to bed.

We get take out two times a week.  Most of the time.

I eat out for lunch way  more than I should.

My running consists of diving for the last bag of Cheeto Puffs before the two stoners reaching out for it nabs it.  Seriously, I did this.

I wear pajamas to WalMart.

I only get to wash my hair about once a week, sometimes twice.  I do, at least, try to minimize my stench if I'm going out in public.

What I'm saying is, I truly believe most of what we read on blogs and Facebook is what people want us to believe their lives are like.  There's nothing wrong with this.  Selective truth is still truth. Like I said, I have a great husband.  Take from that what you will.

Don't be bummed by what others say.  Maybe their life is perfect.  Probably it's not.

I think President Uchtdorf's now famous talk says it best:

"Everyone has strengths and weaknesses.

It's wonderful that you have strengths.

And it is part of your mortal experience that you do have weaknesses."

I have my strengths, friends.  So do you.  I'm terribly jealous of so many of my friends' strengths.  But I know that like me, they have their weaknesses.  I hope we all realize that life is beautiful, and ugly, and fun, and difficult, and totally worth it.  No matter who you are.  And your life is your life.  Don't compare it to others.  Because what you're comparing it to actually doesn't exist.

Reality is...a bag of Cheeto's, sweaty pits, bloody show.  It's also lazy mornings, singing together, laughing hysterically, games, car rides, vacations, and a million other absolutely wonderful moments.

C'est La Vie!  Live it!  Love it!  And maybe, just maybe, you'll get to sleep in...one day...

Reality Check

Apparently, having four kids is haaaaard.

At least for me.

I really don't know why this should be.  I mean, when I had Chloe (#3), things went as smooth as if I had taken a bottle of Xlax.  Exlax?  Whatever.  You know the joke.

The transition was so good.  Cohen and Kembry accepted her like a sister.  Ha.

Is it because this time around I have a two year old?

Is it because she screams over every, teeny, tiny little thing?

Am I simply less capable than most people?

Is it me?

The problem here is that I made this goal to be more patient with the kids.  Yeah, I think that's the problem.  Who makes a goal to be more patient with their kids when they're only getting, on average, 4 hours of sleep at night.  Interrupted sleep, no less.

Not smart, Kelly.  Not smart.

So now, I'm being more patient with the kids.  But all that annoyance builds up, and all of the sudden I'm taking it out on my husband.

He's the same man as always, I think.  But now I want to slug him in the face when he tells me he's tired.

You're tired!?  I want to wail.  You're tired?!  

One night I actually whacked him in the face in the middle of his dead sleep.

With a pillow, calm down.

On the plus side, I absolutely love my family.  I feel it when I pray to ask for forgiveness for my murderous thoughts.  I feel it when they hug me despite being so unhuggable.  I feel it in the middle of the night, when I'm nursing sweet Kian, and he grabs my hand and stares up at me.  I even feel it when Chloe gives me loves after a 45 minute tantrum.

I feel the love.  And it keeps me going.  Even if it doesn't help me bathe more often.  Or do the dishes.  Or take care of that weird smell in the house I can't identify.  Or change diapers.  Love is still pretty magical.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

There are many things I didn't forget about having a newborn.

Like how incredibly soft he is.

How he molds to my body, snuggles right up in my neck, sighs and goes to sleep.

How he smacks his lips when he's hungry.  *Swoon*  Why is this so cute?


But there are a few things I totally forgot about.  Good thing, too.

Like how hard it is to swaddle a squirmy baby in the middle of the night.

How tired I am in the middle of the night.

How when he's sleeping, I want him to be awake, and when he's awake, I want him to be asleep.

How he'll take a binky from anyone but me.  Seeing as how I'm the human binky, and he prefers it.

How he poops. All the time.

Baby gas.  So sad.

That crying jag at 1 in the morning and you have no idea what's wrong.  You bounce, you rock, and soon you run out of ideas because you're so tired you probably wouldn't know how to use the restroom yourself right now let alone sooth a fussy baby.


But I also forgot...

About their tiny hands and nails.  Tiny feet.

About watching older brother and sisters loving on baby.  Oh my.

About how he shudders with complete contentment when he's done nursing.

About bath time.

About tiny socks and onesies and diapers so small they get mistaken as bouncy balls by my 2 year old.  Probably ought to throw those away in a more timely fashion...

Baby burps.

Baby snuggles.

Even baby cries.  So sweet.


I can almost (almost being the KEY WORD here, folks) see how people have 8,9,10 kids.  Having babies can be a teeny, tiny bit addicting.  Loving every stage.

I watch Chloe and my heart pitter pats and I remember when she was a baby but I wouldn't change back time and give up this fun new stage with her.  Never the less, I have a hard time putting down my baby boy.  Every time I do, I feel the clock ticking away and feel him growing bigger and bigger and needing me less and less, and while it's nice to have a little independence, it's also so wonderful to watch them fall asleep in your arms.

There is something so exciting about getting to know a new human being every step of the way.  A new member of our family we don't even know, who will be with us for Eternity.

But, Eternity can wait.  Right now, I think I'll settle for a baby kiss, a Chloe kiss, and a nap.

Tortuga

How we spent our Labor Day.

"King of the Turtle!  Call me 'Tortuga'."

"King of the Turtle huh?  I'll call you nothing but a cab to take you away from my Turtle Island.  Call me Queen Tortisa!"

And then, of course, there's Chloe.  The stoic.

"My turtle."

At least Kembry is always ready and willing to pose.

Always.

 Ï feel pretty."

Öh so pretty."

Ëven when my toothless brother tries to ruin the picture."

Here she made this face because, and I quote, "Sometimes super models make this face, mom."

She can get away with it.  She's such a doll.

And then there's the stoic.

Ï will sit here like a lady, but I will not subject myself to the stereo types of the world.  If my sister chooses to focus on looks and looks alone, to dole out smiles whenever someone points a camera at her, that's fine.  That's her choice.  As for me and my standards, you  may take my picture, but that is for posterity.  And grandma."

"You can take my profile.  Profiles have been documented for centuries.  A profile picture is a perfectly respectable thing."

Älright.  One cat walk pose."

My kids.  Cohen isn't in most of these pictures because he was busy climbing to the top of the water fountain.  

The End