2011 in Facebook Statuses

I just went through my facebook page for the last year, and copied all the status updates of crazy things the kids did/said. I'm going to use them as snippets in our 2011 photo album. Anyway, I laughed out loud at a bunch of them, and thoroughly enjoyed remembering. I thought I would copy/paste here for everyone else to get a kick out of too. They are in reverse order...so the first ones are in December, the last ones are in January, etc.

And then there's my children...pretending the wise men from their Nativity scene are barfing on everybody. (And laughing hysterically while doing it.)

Marina's bedtime words to me: "Mama, I love you all the way up the mountains and back." Premature grey hairs, broken bones, giant messes, and general mental trauma are all so worth it...gosh I love that girl.

My Mom was trying to teach Marina that old rhyme, "Little girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice." When asked five minutes later what little girls were made of, Marina said, "Green beans. And cereal."

Said in frustration to my kids, "I am not a short order cook!" Marina's reply? "Of course not, Mom. You're a tall cook."

Marina was asked this morning what she wanted to be when she grew up. "A firefighter," she replied. Why? "Because I want to be a hero like my Aunt Jess."

I've come to the conclusion that Marina is a lot like the Holy Spirit...in that she cannot be contained.

Marina is wearing "Ear Muffins."

Someday, dip an octopus in olive oil, then try to cram it into infant sized clothing. You will then have an idea of what it is like to get Melanie dressed every morning.

Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb. Mary had a little lamb until it fell off a cliff and died. A Marina Rogers original.

I overheard Megan yesterday leaving a voicemail for her aunt, who is getting married in November: "Hi Aunt Sarah. This is Megan. Congratulations on finding a husband. Bye."

Melanie spent most of the night demonstrating her remarkable ability to go from sleeping to Defcon One in a split second.

I heard a choking sound in the living room...dropping everything, I ran, only to discover that Melanie was chewing so ferociously on her feet that she was gagging.

Okay, I'm a Mom three times over, and I know that babies can't speak at six months, but I SWEAR Melanie's baby babble just sounded like she said, "I love you Mom."

Megan just ran up to me all a-flutter. "MOM! I just learned how to write the word AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Melanie just woke up, picked her head up, looked around, then passed back out in her carseat. Apparently there's nothing going on around here worth waking up for.

Yesterday, I was telling a friend of mine about my sister's kids. I told her, "Oh, they're Filipinos." Megan piped up and said, in a voice that indicated she thought I was as dumb as a rock, "Mom, they're not Filipinos, they're MACALINOS."

I can tell the Bishop's visit made an impression on Marina, because she was just sitting on the potty singing, "Mustaheq!"

Evening Vespers with a fit throwing three year old. Also known as "Combat Liturgics."

We've had the beginning of our annual ant infestation yesterday. Megan was flipping out about an ant on the living room floor, and I calmly informed her that she was about a billion times larger than the ant; go get a shoe and squish it. The next thing I knew, I heard her yelling, "Marina! Get your shoes on and kill this ant!" And there went Marina, puddle boots on, stomping like an elephant to save the day....

Marina just told me, "Mom! There is smoke coming out of my belly button!" What the heck is she doing??? Must investigate.

I think Marina is going to be a scientist. But not just any scientist--the mad scientist kind that has crazy hair and causes gigantic explosions in their lab while cackling maniacally.

Melanie was crying this morning, and Megan came and told me, "Mom! Melanie is crying. Do your job and go get her. Vamanos!" Someday that little sasspot will make a great motivational speaker...

I made moose kebabs for dinner. After informing Megan that we were having moose, she looked askance at her dinner before asking, "Is it a DEAD moose?"

"Marina! Don't cry when I'm crying! Mom will not be able to hear me if you fuss too." Said by a sobbing Megan in the middle of an epic meltdown.

Megan told me today, "Mom, you smell nervous." "What does nervous smell like?" "Rhubarb."

Last night's church conversation with Megan: "Mom, what's a German?" "A person who lives in Germany." "But why do they make us throw up?" "WHAT?" "You know, they get in our bellies and make us sick." "That's a GERM, not a German..."

Nothing strikes fear into my heart more than when Marina randomly walks up to me and says, "I'm sorry Mom."

As a parent, you get to say fun things that you never imagined yourself saying. Today's gem? "Don't rub your face on the toilet!" Last summer, I recall having to say, "Don't lick the exhaust pipe on the car!"

Megan and Marina have written a new song: "Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream! Melanie, Melanie, Melanie, Melanie, I love my baby sister."

This was my end of dinner conversation...Me: "Marina, you need to to say, 'Please, may I be excused?'" Marina: "I love my bum."

My kids have spent the morning asking for squirrel ice cream. It wasn't until an hour ago that Megan finally said, "You know, when the two colors are mixed together!" Ahhhhh....SWIRLED ice cream. Much more appetizing.

Apparently Megan decided that her Dad's praying was not up to par this evening, because she decided--mid-Litany--to attempt to drown him out by singing "Row, row, row your boat."

Five minutes in Marina's head

Look, a bowl of peanut butter! Let's use it as finger paint and decorate the dishes, the table, and a significant portion of the bathroom with it.

Bwahahahaha. Megan left her candy out where I can reach it...

Toilet paper!! This truly deserves to be unrolled. As soon as I finish creating a pile with it, I'm going to put the whole thing into the sink and watch it disintegrate while I run copious amounts of water from the faucet.

My name is not Marina. It is "Princess Emily."

When my friends get home from their honeymoon, I am going to draw them a picture for their refrigerator. I am going to draw a dragon eating a bear on top of a mountain, because that makes the most sense to me. Who WOULDN'T want that on their fridge?

Growing up?

I (sort-of) reconnected with a childhood friend the other day...childhood as in 7th grade. Anyway, she commented that I was the same now as I was then. I've gotta admit, that freaked me out. It has actually continued to nag at me for the past two days. Looking back, I was the exact twelve/thirteen year old that completely annoys me now. I'm holding out hope that I am not nearly as crazy at 29 as I was then.

I'm an exuberant person, I get that. I've got a lot of emotion, and really no way of hiding it. It's just who I am, and as I approach my 30th birthday (eek!!), I'm slowly figuring out how to accept that part of myself. I'll admit though, deep inside me is someone who wishes that words like "demure," "calm," and "sedate" applied to me. I think that may be one of those "snowball's chance" kind of things, but oh well. I'll probably spend the rest of my life trying to learn how to calm down. I just really really hope that I've made strides over the past 15 years...and that the insanity that was me as a 'tween (by the way, my apologies Mom and Dad) has tempered somewhat. Who knows. Anybody who knew me then and now want to chime in?

Wait, forget it. I'm already sorry I asked.

Speaking of age, I'm having a slight not-midlife-yet-but-crisis-none-the-less about turning 30. Thirty. Thirty, thirty, thirty. It just seems so....so....not twenty-something. Like I might actually have to step up and be an grown-up. Apparently, in my mind, the last ten years don't qualify as adulthood, although my husband, children, and mortgage payment are probably decent evidence to dispute that theory. In any case, I feel my thirtieth birthday lurking...in the shadows...ready to pounce.

Perhaps I should just embrace the big 3-0, and say a prayer it's part of the equation for a new, calmer Christine. A sedate Christine. A demure Christine.

Nope. That just sounds boring. I'm going to go chug a Dr. Pepper and fully embrace my last five months as a 29 year old. Loudly, and exuberantly.

Somebody had better warn Dn. John.

Today is the day...

...to put tools away! I got Dn. John a new craftsman tool chest for Christmas, but we haven't had time to gather all the tools from their eight billion hiding places and put them away. But we're doing it TODAY! Woot. I have plans to re-purpose those hiding places to hold other things.

Melanie is figuring out how to stand up. She can balance for about ten seconds before she falls over. She's doing it more and more, and will also walk along holding on to our fingers. She has actually figured out the balance to walk along just holding on with one hand. We're getting close! Her "twin" Oliver (they were born the same day) started walking really early, and when we saw them at church yesterday, she wanted to chase him so badly. It was pretty funny. He waddled along, and she crawled after as fast as she could.

It's still cold out there...-5 on the "flemoniker" (thermometer) this morning. I'm ready for this cold and snow nonsense to end. Oh Spring, where are you? Only about three more months....

My friend Kastle and I filmed our new Cupcake Wars audition video on Saturday. I'm waiting for the guy to finish editing it--it was a lot of fun to make, and I think will turn out really well. Here's hoping we make it this time!

Another normal day

Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow. This sure has been a crazy winter for it. We've gotten dumped on over and over, and it's coming down again today. Forecast yesterday predicted 9-18 inches, but they've changed their story to *only* around 7-11 inches. I love that the word "only" is associated with nearly a foot of snow. Sheesh. However, I will at this point in time be extremely grateful that we don't live in Cordova, where they've gotten five times as much snow, as well as over 40 inches of rain in the last month or so. Yay for Eagle River!

Marina's preschool class is on their very first field trip today. I'm very curious to see how that goes...(I for one would not take five three/four year olds anywhere, but that's why I'm not a preschool teacher). Marina was so excited this morning she could hardly sit still.

My to-do list for the week has gotten longer and longer, and now if I want to finish it off I have to haul some pretty serious booty working on things today and tomorrow. Thankfully, none of it is really huge, but it's all those little things that add up over time. It seems like every day I cross off one thing and add three.

I'm off to start some pizza dough, attempting to make it from scratch for the first time. It seems like a good day to have some hot, gooey pizza for dinner. Glad I've got everything already, since I'm doing my best to avoid the grocery store this week!

Fr. Harold

Our Fr. Harold died of a heart attack earlier this week. I don't think that there is any way to count the lives that he touched, in some way, shape or form. It boggles the mind to even think about it, really. He was the "founding father," if you will, of our close-knit community. His faith, determination, and never-say-die attitude are a huge part of why we are here on Monastery Drive, surrounding the Cathedral and seeking to work out our salvation together, as a church, congregation, and community. This community has shaped my life in a very real and significant way, as it is now shaping the lives of my children.

I've been thinking a lot about legacies the last few days. It's not hard to find Fr. Harold's. There was not a person packed into our church this morning whose life he hadn't touched. Even if you had never spoken a word with him, by virtue of standing in the Cathedral, your life has been affected. Besides the physical legacy of community, he left a spiritual one. I've never met a person more assured of the grace of God, heaven, and salvation than Fr. Harold. His faith was an ingrained part of who he was. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and Fr. Harold knew it. His last words were exhorting the clergy of his parish--my husband included--to preach God from the heart, to share their experiences, and to bring everyone around them that much closer to Christ. Within five minutes of speaking, he slipped into unconsciousness, and went Home. Fr. Harold died the way he lived: he had something to say, he said it, and then he was done. Painless, blameless, and peaceful.

Growing up, we used to sing a hymn at the old EOC services, and as I grew older, I came to learn that it was one of Fr. Harold's favorite. The chorus is very fitting, to say the least. "Let the people sing 'Amen'." There were hundreds of people at St. John's physically, and countless more all over the world in spirit, singing Amen for Fr. Harold today. Amen to a life of faith, Amen to a life of hard work, Amen to a life of giving it all for Christ...and the greatest Amen of all, in thankfulness to God for a man who brought each of us one step closer to heaven.

Amen, Fr. Harold. Amen.

Conquering the ClosetMaid

I BUILT SOMETHING TODAY. Huzzah! Granted, assembling two ClosetMaid shelving units is not really a whole lot to brag about, but I am bursting with pride since I did it myself, instead of waiting for Dn. John to come home and put them together for me. Baby steps, I'm telling you.

The shelves are to replace our mismatched, drawerless, too short nightstands. I bought some baskets to fit on the shelves to be "drawers", and now they match and are lovely. Makes my heart pitter-patter. :) One thing down on my grand plan of a bedroom makeover. Painting the walls is going to be the doozy. I can't decide if I should get a babysitter and bully one of my sisters into helping me paint, or just wait for a Saturday, watch my own kids, and bully my husband into painting. Decisions, decisions.

I got to be "that Mom" at Target yesterday, checking out (with said ClosetMaid shelves and baskets) while Marina sat in the cart and had a screaming meltdown. It was epic. Thankfully, we were done shopping when the screaming began, so when I told her, "Okay, we're leaving now," I could just go without being annoyed about missing out on the rest of the stuff I needed to get. Plus, I think it made a greater impression on her since we literally stopped what we were doing and left.

I've come to the conclusion that parenting is a heck of a lot easier at home, as opposed to church/the grocery store/restaurants, etc. I don't usually feel overwhelmed until I try to take the kids somewhere. This, of course, leads many people who don't visit my home and only see me at church to believe that I'm generally frazzled and frustrated. It's really a shame, since I feel that I'm not that crazy of a person...it's just that they never see me in my comfort zone, which is frankly where I spend 90% of my time. Ah well.

In any case, my comfort zone is a sty and needs to be cleaned, so I'm off to tackle that. Oh, and it's above zero today (3 degrees! Hooray!) for the second day in a row, so here's hoping the nastiest part of this cold snap is over. Yesterday it got all the way up to 10. Megan told me, "Mom! It's so warm! (It was 8 degrees at the time). I don't need a hat." Have no fear though, my southern readers, I still made her wear a hat. We don't go hat-less unless it's above 30. :)

A place for everything

I love organization. Seriously. There are few things in life that make my heart "pitter-patter" more than the storage aisles at Fred Meyer and Target. I love to open a drawer or a door and see everything lined up, put away, labeled, and neat. *Sigh* Such things are harder to accomplish when you live with three (four?) people who seem to be actively undoing everything you put away. I suppose it's just the time of life that I'm in, but I have dreams (oh, I have dreams) of my kids putting stuff away in the right spots...they're actually not half bad, really. The playroom is pretty well organized, and when sent to put things away, the kids put them where they belong. Now, if I could get them to do it without whining and crying, I'd really be on to something.

I had to laugh the other day though, because I bought some drawer organizers, and spent a few minutes folding/sorting/putting away a couple of our dresser drawers. That night when we went to bed, I pulled out the drawer with aplomb, and told my husband proudly, "LOOK HOW PRETTY IT IS!" He glanced over, and said, "It's a drawer." He so doesn't get it.

I figure I will slowly tackle all the drawers/shelves/closets that make my blood pressure go up when I look at them. Monday it was the dresser, and half the entryway closet (need to pick up another hanging shoe bag to finish in there). Yesterday, I did the junk drawer in the kitchen. It's beautiful now, just beautiful. Today? As I'm typing this, our rows of haphazard DVDs are staring me down. It's like they've thrown the gauntlet.

And in other awesome, fantastic, and wonderful news: Melanie slept for 10.5 hours last night. Straight. I put her down at 7:30 and didn't hear a peep until 6. After feeding her until 6:30 or so, she went back to bed until 8. It. Was. Awesome. Way to go baby girl! Thanks for giving your Mama a break. (And also waiting to wake up until Daddy was up getting ready for work, so Mom didn't even have to get out of bed...and then being done eating before he actually left so he could put you back in your crib. Way to go.)

Kathryn made me do it.

On our last trip to South Carolina in November, my sister-in-law introduced me to two delightful new websites/ways to waste serious amounts of time: Pinterest, and Young House Love. It's safe to say that I have thoroughly enjoyed them, if the 423 pins on my boards are any indication. Seriously, you should check them out. Tonight's dinner (Hawaiian pulled chicken) and dessert (jam crumb cake) are straight from there. So it's not entirely a waste. :)

As for Young House Love, John and Sherry (see how I refer to them by their first names, as if we were friends in real life?) have inspired me to look at my house in a whole new light. A "what can I DIY" light as it were...in actuality, a "what can I make Dn. John DIY" light is more like it, but we digress. Here's to kicking off 2012 with some decorating changes, and finally (FINALLY!) painting our bedroom walls. It's only been four and a half years, right? It's time. It is so, so time.

www.pinterest.com
www.younghouselove.com

You know you want to check them out. I'm sure Kathryn won't mind if you blame her too. :)