Mom?!?

When you're sick, there's nothing better than a mom to take care of you. But what if you're the mom? Who takes care of you?

Jer contracted the nasty stomach flu from Jayce and is now laying in bed, trying not to throw up. Unfortunately, I'm starting to exhibit his pre-symptoms and am feeling quite yucky myself. All we want to do is rest and take it easy. Unfortunately, my little 18 month-old won't have any of that. After two minutes of resting, she literally smothers me by sitting on my face -- screaming at me to hold her as she directs me around the house. She's been a little sick herself (I suspect rotavirus) and has been especially demanding.

Jeremy's mom is off dealing with a death in the family, and my mom is faraway in her own busy world. Our selfish sides miss them, though. Why can't someone bring us Sprite and saltine crackers? Why can't someone turn on a video for us and apply much-needed blankets since we're so cold? Instead we're relegated to kid duty. Oh, well. I guess it's time that I accept my adult-ness.

Alyssa's Wardrobe Choices

In recent developments, Alyssa has decided to wear Jayce's pajama tops in an unconventional way. She puts the shirt on and lifts the torso section over her head so she's only wearing the sleeves while the rest billows behind like a cape. In addition, she also likes to wear Jayce's snow hat which makes her look tough. She's quite an enigma, that one. One minute she's wearing necklaces, bracelets, and fancy shoes and then she turns into this tomboy. She definitely adds her own twist to clothing. She likes wearing shirts on her legs, shorts on her arms, socks on her hands, Jayce's underwear on her arms, etc. Very random! She's constantly rummaging through drawers to find anything to wear on any part of her body.

Sick again!

Jayce finally got over his step last week (a nasty case, by the way), and now he's decided to contract something even worse . . . the stomach flu!! Ugh! I would rather have mumps than the stomach flu (I keep getting these scary flashbacks of my pregnancies and wonder how I'll possibly do it again). Poor Jayce! The upside for him? An unlimited supply of Sprite and TLC. He also got to watch "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer." Anything for my sickly boy. Just keep your fingers crossed that the rest of us don't get it.

"I Survived"

Check out my cool Boot Camp shirt. I survived six grueling weeks, and I signed up for another round (am I crazy? Yes!). I am writing this entry in hopes that I can inspire some of you to join with me. Forgive the picture . . . I'm looking pallid and tired, but I did do the super-hero stance to impress Jayce.






Okay, here goes . . . the Top Ten Reasons You Should Join Boot Camp:

10. Greet the sunrise and enjoy cool Vegas mornings.
9. Finish your workout by 7 a.m. -- you don't have to feel guilty for being lazy the rest of the day.
8. Discover muscles you never thought you had!
7. Feel satisfyingly sore and get pity from your husband (please . . . can you carry the laundry for me? I'm really achy from my bear of a workout. Please cook dinner? I can barely lift the pan :) ).
6. Meet other class members who are going through the same agony as you are.
5. Anticipate the words "Cool Down" with such glee!
4. Run up and down stairs, carrying toddlers and laundry, WITHOUT feeling winded.
3. Burn tons of calories -- allowing you to splurge every once in awhile (Cheesecake Factory cheesecake, baby!).
2. Listen to fellow classmates yell corny motivational sayings such as "Stay strong," "Finish!" "You can do it!" "Reach for your dreams!" (Inspiring? No. Amusing? Yes).
1. Hey, free t-shirt!

Nuf' said?!

Fire Station Fun

I organized a playgroup to tour our local firestation. On Saturday we were finally able to go. The firemen were great with the kids, and I think everyone really enjoyed it.


Poor lighting, but Jayce was giddy at the simple act of touching the firetruck.


Jayce at the wheel. Scary thought! By the way, Jer, he needs a haircut! (What's with the squirrelly action?).



Jayce and Jackson standing on the truck. They're best buds! I don't know what we'd do without Jackson.


Apparently, their friendship is even more evident by their hand holding. Quite a common occurrence, as well as their hugs goodbye. They crack me up!

Jayce donning the heavy fireman's hat. The actual fireman in the background was nice enough to pose for me. By the way, Jayce's t-shirt slogan is "Most Valuable Player Ever." Jer loves those cocky Old Navy shirts simply because he's a cocky guy himself. Hopefully I can instill some humbleness in my boys one of these days. :)

Easter finery

Here are my children all gussied up for Easter morning. Alyssa's pigtails were actually symmetrical -- a rare feat for me considering I'm so bad at doing hair. I really went all out with the wardrobe . . . that was Jayce's first tie (a crowning event). Admittedly, midway through sacrament meeting he decided it was too confining and ripped that baby right off. Jer wishes he could do that, too, but he can't get away with it.

Bragging rights? Hardly!

I'm so frustrated because I can't find my camera, so my fun stories will have to wait (I need visuals). I had to look in the photo archives to be inspired to write about something. Anyway, I don't mean to sound cocky, but my kids are really cute (although the word "cute" doesn't do them justice, but I know I'm biased as well). To show my humility, though, I will say that my genes had nothing to do with it. Jer and I often comment that our kids don't look like us or each other. Except on rare occasions, we really don't see any resemblance.

Which brings me to another question . . . what do you say when people comment that your kids are cute? I reply "Thanks," because it's a nice thing to say. But, again, I feel like I'm taking undeserved credit. They are cute in spite of me.

And, as a side note to my fellow bloggers -- you all have adorable children, too. And you don't need to thank me. :)


When they were young (around six months each):

Running . . . why?

Okay, I just have a bit of a tirade and would like some feedback on the subject. I HATE to run. I've hated it for as long as I can remember. Even when I've tried it for awhile, I never got into the groove. My mom runs five miles every day (sans Sunday), I have a brother-in-law training for the Boston Marathon, and I have friends training for a half marathon. I am surrounded by amazing running examples, yet I can't bring myself to do it. I'm in pretty good shape at the moment, but the running part of my boot camp class is the most miserable. I'd rather do push-ups! What's wrong with me?


This is not me, but I did like the picture of Timp in the background. I should be more like her, though -- she has two kids like I do, and I have the same type of stroller. What's my excuse?