Cowboys

It's almost July. I haven't accomplished many of my New Year's Resolves, but that's ok, it's holiday time. Lehi is like Patriot Station. There are flags EVERYWHERE on every U.S. holiday.. including... like.. pet day, or other made-up days. Seriously. I mean it's great. Lots o' cowboys. There was one today at the store, complete with cowboy hat and chew ring in his back pocket, beer belly trying to peek out from under his plaid shirt. But I loved him anyway. He was taking his little brothers grocery shopping and was yelling at one of them for "hitting your brother in the private". I thought it was funny.

Just cancelled our cable today. I'll miss Disney channel but I won't miss wasting so much time. I am very happy with my relationship with iTunes. It just WORKS. And the iPhone comes out today! Me and electronic gadgets have a harmless crush and I feed it often. I want one. Maybe when my T-mobile contract goes up next year.


Excellent autobiography by the extremely influential Ayaan Hirsi (Magan) Ali. I don't post about books much, I have to come across a really good one. And it may be that I'm very interested in religion, but it's a great text about life as a Muslim girl growing up in Somalia, Kenya, Ethiopia and Saudi Arabia, turning into a woman who has very strong views, becomes a member of Parliament in Holland and changes liberal Holland forever. Very good.

I think I'm going to write in my real journal for once this year.

Injury

Careful if you're woozy around blood. I'm not. Injuries interest me... that's another subject...
Grace tripped and fell and hit her mouth on the first cement step up to our porch. She was barefoot and in a swimsuit. At first I thought she had just cut her gum, no big deal. Then I laid her in my lap after I had iced it and she had calmed down and I felt her tooth--- and gasp, inhale, rush of emotion---- it was LOOSE!!! Now this is one of my biggest fears confirmed, that my little one will knock out her tooth and she'll have to go years without a front tooth. So a little tear comes to my eye and I fear the worst. But. Not to worry, we arrived at the clinic and the doctor told us that she will be fine. That the tooth will not be loose anymore in a few days. I was amazed. All my fears melted away, and by fears I mean the football-field-sized needle that dentists use being used on my little four-yr baby, her crying, maybe screaming, her tooth being pulled, lots of milk shakes and yogurt, being made fun of in the "what happened to your teeth" sense, the first day of kindergarten being different as if school wasn't hard enough. Phew. She is fine. She's still fine. Phew.

Father's Day

My dad and others right before my baptism.

Jake and his dad.

Jake getting teary at newborn Ruby.

Jake and Grace getting crazy as always.

Jake and little Rubes in Florida.

Grace and her Papa Smylie.

Fathers. My dad is the Beatles. And Jimi Hendrix. He is patient, kind, indellible. He skips around, never ever stops moving. He hikes all the time, doesn't act his age, flirts with my mom and makes me cry when I think of him. I miss him so much. If only we could have everything we had growing up AND our new families. My dad will absolutely take any situation and deeply believe that there is something positive and something to learn from. He teaches me still, every day, with his memory and his example. I hope he lives forever, because I don't know how to exist without him.

My Father in law. A gem of a human being. He is loving, kind, loving, and loving. He has accepted and loved me since the moment I met him and the Smylie family revolves around his wit, knowledge, talents, stories, opinions, music and influence. I love him.

Jakie. When we got married he talked about his grandmother one night and I felt in that room a thousand generations of his legacy. His CARING way, his love for the women in his life and the way he would love his children. We knew we would love it. When I was 39 weeks pregnant, I just assumed that when I went into labor and had my baby Grace, I would hold her, smell her, know she was mine. I knew I would cry. I knew I would love her because I had felt her in my body. What I didn't know was how much Jake would love her. How he would sit in the rocking chair with her long after I was asleep. The hospital was quiet, in the wee hours in the morning and Jake was still up, holding his new daughter, talking to her. Even from day one he knew how to talk to her. That's more than I knew. I was shocked, stunned, and knew I had a lot to learn from him. Now he's the father of my two girls and far exceeds expectations of all kinds. He is not comparable to any other father I know, he is outstanding, amazing. Soulful.
I love the fathers in my life.

Birthday

Today's my birthday- and Flag Day.

Jake gave me this:

I'm 28 and ready to make this year better than all the rest. I'm going to paint my living room tonight! yay! I will post pictures of it when it's done. One more birthday and then it's onto the big 3-0.
I have had such a great day so far. Had PF Chang's with Hannah, took Gracie to dance and I'm about to have my neighbors over for a girl's night with food, a movie and painting. Doesn't get much better.

Potty Training in the Woods

Sometimes ya just can't wait. This is Ruby on the potty, which is on the picnic table, adjacent from the campfire. I think you can even roast marshmallows from the toilet.
We had a campfire in American Fork canyon, which is a beautiful place. The back of Mt Timpanogas is so big.

This photo was taken by my brother. Two (three if I had them) thumbs up.

Life is a McDream.

Fast forward to summer. All things hot including rosy cheeks when the girls play outside, having to wash my shirts EVERY time I wear them (in the winter, this is unneccesary), and the girls doing lots of "swimming", which means filling up anything large or small with water right by the front porch and getting anything large or small wet. ALWAYS consisting of wearing a swimsuit, even if the objects getting wet are two or three toes.
So I don't have a drug problem. Or alcohol. No no, nothing like that. I am just addicted to Grey's Anatomy. Nothing is more fun than not having watched ONE episode the entire three seasons it's been on... then I happen to download one episode. Then another.. and now I daydream about what will happen next, find parallels to my own life and remember quotes from the show. And when I can't watch the latest downloaded episode on iTunes because Jake needs the computer for something CONSTRUCTIVE (can you believe the nerve of that guy, stealing me away from the show?), I read a book, which is a very good book and I will post on that later...
What is happening to me??? I need to start sleeping again!
I have become obsessed with free time!

A little girl and her potty.

It's a chilly, sunny day here in Utah and I have a throbbing headache... but I thought a good old fashioned (not really old fashioned, kind of high tech, really) blog post aught to get my brain sauce flowing quickly... or quickER.

So I thought I'd spread the news:
I'm potty training Ruby.
After the airplane episode (see post below), I'm sure you can't blame me. And her bum and thighs look so cute in underwear how could I resist? She has the #1 thing DOWN. I mean completely mastered. I take her to her little potty, and she goes. Almost every time. No coaxing, no reading 6 books waiting for that little tinkle sound, no making up stories about how the pee needs to go back to her family in the toilet (a family theory). Ruby watched Grace so much that she found it more normal for a little girl to pee NOT in a diaper, but into a recepticle (varies between the plastic potty from Walmart, the nursery toilet and the big toilet in Ikea).-- And yes, Ikea has opened here in Utah and I've been twice. It's only been open a week.

Anyway, Ruby has been struggling with #2 just like Grace has. Maybe kids feel less of a cue, or the cue just doesn't come as often as #1... who knows. I see the signs, which consist of 1)a long space of time since the last time she went and 2)stinky "toolies" (her version of "tooties"). I sit her on the potty and much coaxing happens. Lots of conversations with that little 2 year old girl about life, liberty and bowel movements. We get to know eachother better, but nothing that I want to have happen, happens.

While cleaning her today after the deed had been done in the wrong place AGAIN (in her pullup at the library), I say, "Ruby, I'm glad you got your poos out, you should do them in the toilet next time, that's the GOOD thing to do!" (while forcing a VERY positive attitude-voice when not really feeling very positive). She says, "NO, I do poos in mine PULLL-UP", (or "mine UNDIES", or "in mine DIAPER"). Her brow is very furrowed by now and mine is too. I'm confused and baffled, but not resigned to spending a whole year at this like I did with Grace.
Suggestions are encouraged, if not required. Please help.

My brothers

Came across this photo and HAD to post it. These are my brothers. Brothers are like hanging out with your dad when he was closer to your age. They absolutely parallel my sense of humor like no one else on earth. Jared is 24 and in Alaska for the summer working as a tour guide, and my bro Gideon is on the right, he is on a mission in Atlanta.
They are doing the world so much good. Just wish they were doing it CLOSER TO WHERE I AM!!!

A work in progress...

www.smyliephoto.com

Florida and Wedding

Finally a clear day at Clearwater Beach, Florida.


"SHESHELLS!!", or "SEASELLS!!" It's a hard word, ok?

A family picture at Sea World. I only posted this because I think the inner thigh of the man sitting behind me is disgusting and very funny at the same time.

Ruby at Sea World.

Chocolate on the face and a fancy dress on. A wedding dinner with great food and nothing to do...

From left to right: Ben (married to Ali, Jake's sister), Jessie (Jake's sister), Ali, Aliza (Jake's sister) and Jake (my husband).

From left to right: Levi the very talented, Rebecca my amazing and hilarious sis in law, Sarah the bride, and Darrell the groom.

These pictures are great and all, but the highlight of the trip has got to be the flight home.
So it's me, Grace and Ruby. We fly together a lot. "Together", but alone if you know what I mean. Alone meaning no other adults to help out.
So we're halfway between Tampa and Denver... probably over Mississippi or something. And Ruby starts complaining of a stomach ache. I take her out of her seat and help her stand up right in front of me, and she thanks me by promptly filling her diaper and "getting her poos out", as she likes to happily proclaim to us. The stink finds its way up and out so fast that the people in front of us are turning on their air blowers. I realize I need to change this diaper pretty quick.

So Grace and Ruby and I shuffle forward and awkwardly make our way to the front of the plane and into the bathroom. Gracie says she has to go pee. Now unless you've been in an airplane bathroom with a 4 year old and a 2 year old, you can't quite get this, but I will explain. If you help your 4 year old pull her drawers down, your face is literally inches from the toilet, because there is no room for you to back up while pulling them down. Inches from a toilet that's been used by several passengers. A not-so-sanitary toilet. So that, coupled with the stink that has been made in the diaper of said 2 year old and we are having fun already! So I ask Grace to go back to her seat and she seems to be heading down the aisle that way.

I close the door again and take a deep breath to prepare for my next adventure. Changing a 30 inch tall little girl on a 12 inch long toilet lid. Ruby's head, shoulders, back and tailbone are being supported. And that's where it ends. So with one hand, I grab her ankles. With the other hand I attempt to take her diaper off. Now attempt is a big word. It's a word that often leaves me disappointed. In this instance, attempt is what happened first and disaster is what happened next. The poo (a rather large, warm, mass) that was once nestled safely inside the diaper somehow topples out of the diaper and lands right on my big toe and onto the edge of my flip flop.. lingering.. for a moment... until I jerk my foot away in pit-of-my-stomach disgust and "it" goes flopping onto the floor.

This cleanup would have been all too easy except for the fact that between my smeared toe and me was a bum that needed cleaning and I couldn't do the toe before the bum. Not possible. Not enough room in the bathroom. Just when I formulate my next move, I hear Gracie start to bang on the bathroom door yelling at the top of her lungs, "Mommy come out! Sit down Mommy!!" I mean, you have GOT TO BE KIDDING. Everyone on the plane is literally watching the whole thing (or listening to the whole thing) because we are in the front bathroom. I crack open the door (trying not to let anyone see the mess that is happening inside), and do my most intense, quiet, mad, furious mom voice and tell her to "go sit down or else". I close the door and just hope that she does what I tell her.

So I turn back around and I clean Ruby up, trying to push the warm feeling on my toe out of my mind so I can finish the task (of course, trying to avoid the culprit which is still on the floor). I stand her up on the toilet lid, clean and diapered. Great. phew. Not phew, really.

By this time, the turbulence has gotten worse and Ruby is pitching side to side in the small bathroom atop the toilet lid. I hold onto her with one hand, and with the last three wipes left in my bag, I give myself a footbath. It kind of works. Then I have to go out of the bathroom and put Ruby back in her seat with Grace complaining for me to come sit down already. I go back to the bathroom and scrub all moisture out of my hands about 10 times, and really really really hope the flight ends soon.

It's good to be back.