Where am I?

I am back from Los Ayalas and, while I was happy to see my family, not so much to come back to Las Vegas with 50-degree temps and wind AND real life. I am pretty much up to my neck in laundry and general house cleaning maintenance. I will give a shout out to Tyler who scrubbed our shower like a CHAMP . . . have not seen it that shiney white in a long time, even with Paula! BUT, since I packed away the winter clothes, each of my kids are down to two pair of pants in their drawers I am doing laundry right from the shute. AND I got the pleasure of cleaning out a badillion sippy cups that all somehow had curdled milk inside of them. Tyler said, "What?" like he didn't know what milk would do when left sitting in a sealed cup, unrefrigerated, under the crib. Oh well, it's even steven for the week I had off. I can't even get into the shows I DVRd and all the blogs I didn't read whilst I was gone. Tyler left this afternoon for a fishing trip this weeked. Like I said, even steven, although he's headed to Utah even though it's snowing. In my opinion, the Provo river won't compare to the Mexican beach.

So, basically, nothing too exciting to report, so I'll explain our trip by days. We left early and it was exciting to see Mackenzie experience everything, especially the flying. Morris and Elaine Smith, who we stayed with, are amazing. The 2nd picture is of my dad unloading the 200 lbs. of shoes and books for the school and library that the Smith's host for the village kids. The deal with that is the kids (who can afford uniforms) got to the town school (supposedly) from 8am until 1pm every day. HOWEVER, the village is far enough away from bigger towns that they seem to get poor teachers who show up late and leave early. AND some of the kids in the village can't afford the uniforms, so each afternoon for a couple hours Elaine invites the kids (from about age 5 to 12) to her home where she hosts an afternoon tutorial program for them. She never knows who is going to show, but she has them work on their spelling, writing, math, English, pretty much everything. Elaine has a pulse on a lot of the action in the village, so she knows who could use the help by way of a new t-shirt or a pair of shoes. It was fun to jump in the first day and try our hand at the school. . . not so good at teaching in Spanish as I am in English. The beach, which is the back yard of Morris and Elaine's house, was warm and refreshing. Mackenzie was in heaven and she and my dad giggled every time the waves rushed up their legs. It was fabulous. I'll write more and put more pictures on when I get a chance tonight.

It's back to reality and dinner prep, more laundry, and meetings tonight. I am hoping Grey's is new tonight, but hate to hope . . .

Ah, the joy of vacation

You know how when you leave on a vacation, especially a particularly longer vacation than normal, you think, "Man! Seven days is gonna be forever!" Then you leave, and the next think you know you're thinking, "I can't believe I am going home in two days!" Mackenzie said this morning, "I'm gonna stay in bed for a bit and think about how nice it will be to be at home again." While I am really enjoying Mexico, I am anxious to see my kiddos and Tyler. I know the next couple days will fly by, so, I am enjoying all of it as much as I can.


Already this morning I have slept in til 9 (my preferred waking hour, I've decided, for all situations - which is hard when I'm at home and the kids need to be at school by 9am), read my book (today it's been about Katherine of Aragon, but I've also been reading "Seven Ages of Paris"), and took a walk on the beach with my dad. It's about thirty minutes round trip to walk the coast of the cove and I love all the happy Mexican families who have been here this weekend. When we walk down about half way there's the fish market where all the fisherman are cutting up the fish and selling it to the tourists. They just fling the guts and heads back onto the beach, so today we had to be careful not to get in the way of flying bloody fish ick. The birds, of course, are all over, and pelicans, and Dad and I watched these birds fighting mid-air over this chunk of fish. Very "Finding Nemo" and the seagulls. I did have a drunk Mexican guy tell me I looked Mexican, but I think that was more about him being hammered by 9am and my embroidered Mexican dress I bought at the market the other day that I was wearing. Once we got back to the house, I finished off my pineapple from yesterday's "Fruity Drinks" and that has been the extent of my Sunday. I did wonder if Tyler had gotten the kids up and ready for church and on time (he always does, but the real question is whether or not Caylee's hair was done?). We have church here tonight at 6pm. I think it's just sacrament. They switched it just barely since so many of the members have to work on Sunday. Morris and Elaine hosted a family home evening over here Thursday night. There were about thirty people who came. Mackenzie really clicked (well, clicked as much as you can when you don't speak the same language) with this girl Sauci and I look forward to seeing her again tonight. Mackenzie taught her how to play Uno (which, apparently the Mexicans don't play down here . . . maybe they play "One," but not Uno) and I think Sauci would very much like to keep the Uno cards. Unfortunately Mackenzie has been quite attached to her card games this trick and I don't think she can bear to leave her cards behind. (She did confess that she liked this set because all the Draw 4s are marked and she knows who's got what by how the cards are bent. She's my gamer. We have to put a limit on to how many hands we play each day.

Yesterday my mom took Mackenzie to the beach and boogie boarded with her. Total credit to my mom for being better at it than I am. They had a good time until Mom and Kenz got tossed from their boards. I have tried to be careful about how much sun I sit in because I have this horrible skin rash. I first broke out with this allergic reaction when I went to Hawaii 13 years ago or so and every time I am in the sun too much I break out again. So, I enjoy laying out and stuff and then I want to scratch my feet off my legs. We went to a couple of neighboring towns yesterday and went to a farmacia and the lady gave me some gel to help with the itching. I have now idea what it is, but it seems to help. Dad and I went across the street to Elaine's new compound/house that she just bought and gave her our decorating ideas. We were both saying how fabulous it would be to be able to come back for a few weeks and put everything together with someone else's money. Somebody should tell Tyler I want another trip in the fall to come back here :).


We are planning to head to Puerto Vallarta on Monday and do the touristy thing. That's good since all I've bought to take home to Tyler is a back of tortilla chips I think he'd like. Doesn't a bag of chips say, "You're the best husband ever who would take care of everything while I played on the beach for a week?!"


I think we're having breakfast shortly, so I am going to check in with my peeps on their blogs, etc. Later -

Nueva Entrada

Apparantly all prompts come in Spanish when you are typing from Mexico. I was happy to find out that we can use Morris and Elaine's emial/internet to check out people's blogs and home emails from the comfort of our pajamas. Dad couldn't sleep last night, so came on the computer for a few hours. He probably did better at that than I did since he understands a little Spanish and I have found I am resorting to random words of French. For example, we stop to get gas in our VW Jetta (which, BTW has great trunk space and we got ALMOST all our bags in the trunk... Ya gotta love a trunk that holds most y0ur junk!) and all the gas stations here are full service. After we figured out how to get the gas flap open, we used hand motions to tell the attendant to fill it up and paid the guy. Dad says, "Gracias" at the same time I yell, "Merci!" out the window. I shouldn't even try to be bilingual. Apparantly I am better at being the dumb gringo who speaks only English. I am sure French is way off the rictor scale. Anyhow. We made it here yesterday afternoon and I have to say am much happier to be at the beach in Mexico in this amazing village after 8 hours of travel instead of in Utah at some campsite after 8 hours of travel. Can you all see where this would be a conflict for me and Tyler in our lives? I decided last night we should plan on retiring our winters in Mexico in a fabulous home on the beach and we can summer in some po-dunk Montana town. I so want to be able to absorb all the culture and have been taken with all the colors (all the art, funiture, houses, and vegitation) and the simplicity of everything. I do, however, think I get why it's so devestating to have earthquakes or natural disasters in more rural, less developed areas. I don't think Mexico has too many building codes or rules. It makes me kinda nervous to see all the "new" growth and how shoddy it looks, like American work looks after it's been ignored for twenty years or so. BUT, the people don't seem to care, and think it's cool to use every possible space for living, shops, or whatever. When we were at customs at the Puerto Vallarta airport yesterday, Mom kept singing some song and I made the comment how we were NEVER going to blend in if she kept doing stuff like that. She can't help herself, I don't think. She is relating this trip to a lot of songs, I guess, she said in the car yesterday she had a Kenny Chesney song in her head . . . and of course she sang it for us. It's kinda funny. Maybe I should keep track of the times she busts out in song this week. This place is really that kind of place. I would be willing to bust out myself if I could find the right song, but I can't think of the perfect song to fit SUCH my place. I am worried that my sun allergy is going to flare up. I have this thing where I break out in a horribly sting-y rash if I overdose on the beach sun. It only seems to happen at the ocean, but I am nervous it will afflict me the whole vacation. It looks and feels pretty bad, and I have been conscious of the beginning tingling, pokey feeling it starts with on my ears and arms. Other than that we've hung out and Mackenzie and I have played some games. We're are fixing to go down onto the beach and play for a bit. Erin, if it makes you feel any better, there are no fruity drinks until the weekend and it IS really muggy and humid. That being said, I have thought a dozen times how much I wish the whole family could be down here. We are still haunting your blogs, huge relief Nate came thru (lol) and can answer emails. Erin, if you could check with Mindie, I am not sure Tyler will give me the adaquate details I crave about my other kiddos! Anyway, off we go . . . I'll write more later.

Hasta La Vista Baby!

I haven't been meaning to ignore my blog the past few days, but I've been preparing for our trip to Mexico. I've already been up for a while, and have to check this off my list so I can really relax a la Los Ayalas. I am hoping I can blog when I am there. Mackenzie and I are going to have such a great time! I'll be thinking of you while I am drinking my pineapple drinks on the beach.

Natural Born . . . Actress

Tonight Mackenzie and I were part of the RS birthday party program, which proved to be a moment of glory for Mackenzie. We had a script (excellent, by the way, thanks to Kristie) and played a mom and daughter having a bedtime conversation WHICH so happens any time Kenz can finagle an extra minute of awake time. So, I don't know how convincing we were, but Mackenzie is a natural actress. She liked being in front of everyone and was anxious for the whole thing to start. I always liked performing (in dance recitals, etc.) but would have been totally nervous to have such a focus solo role at age 7 in front of about 50 women. I was very proud of her and it was all on her. Really, any time I tried directing her or giving her tips she would remind me I wasn't in charge or suggest that maybe I practice my part so I wouldn't mess up. She's funny. I am really looking forward to out trip together next week. My guess is that she's pretty sick of me by the time we get back, but I am looking forward not to have much to scold her about. Usually she gets busted for her interactions with her lovely siblings. I hope she's not bored stiff, but she loves the sun and we'll be soaking in the rays on the beach as much as we can.

On another note. I had "Lovary" ultrasounded yesterday (thanks to Erin for keeping Brock and to those who offered after my last post.) Of course, the ultrasound tech doesn't tell you much, if anything, during the scan, but she DID tell me to follow up with my Dr. SO, I don't know if that means, you are a real mess and need to talk to your Dr. OR if that's just standard procedure. I figured I'd be on the ball and call my OB/GYN's office to see if I'd be better of scheduling an appointment before my results so if I needed an office visit I wouldn't be another three weeks to get an appointment. So, of course, I get the busy office staff, and (after sitting on hold for a bit) I explain that I am unsure of the procedure to follow up on my ultrasound which I just had done that morning. She tells me, "Well, honey, you're going to have to give us a few days to get the results before you call us." Honey? Was that a dumb enough question to justify a condescending term of endearment? I quickly REITTERATED the question as to whether or not I need to set up a personal office visit or if it was done over the phone in a very saucy tone that she actually listened to my question. I could see if I were a regular nuissance that really did ask stupid questions, but I call twice a year and it was a legitamite question. And "Honey?" That bugs. It sounded like I wasn't even deserving of business like ettiquette, like I couldn't hang with the uber-intellectual phone scheduler.

I am finding the older I get the more unwilling I am at letting comments go unanswered. A few years ago I would have answered the receptionist with an apologetic withdrawl, but her "honey" made me a little fiesty. Another case, last week I met my sister at MacDonalds (for those keeping track, yes, we go there often.) My kids got out of the car and I instructed them to stand next to the car while I grabbed my wallet, which they did, but they did walk around the car and stand on the opposite side of where I was. But as soon as I came around the driver's side rear corner they started accross the street. I was about four steps behind them with Brock in my arms, a diaper bag, and my wallet. This old man, trying real hard to be kind, stepped out in front of me and said, "Lady, you gotta be careful letting them kids run off like that. Cars pull out of these parking spots all the time and wouldn't see them." Ok. I know that. I am not hoping that will happen, but I also have a 1, 3, and 4 year old and only two hands with which to control them, not to mention ALL the crap we take with us anywhere we go. I just looked at the guy square in the eyes and said, "Ugh, OK, They're fine. Short of putting them on a leash, I don't know what more I can do. There's three of them and I have two hands." Wasn't that raunchy. I just don't have the patience for it. I know he was good intentioned, and actually answered my attitude with "Well, God bless your faith." I thought that was very generous of him because I had been down right gritchy. I can't apologize, though. I get tired of feeling like I should just stay at home and hunker down until my kids are all grown, or at least tall enough to be seen in a rear view mirror. I am not going to stress, but it doesn't mean I am not careful and/or concerned with their well-being. It is what it is, right.

And it is warm here. But, contrary to everyone else, I am loving it. We're toughing it out with no AC, but that means little covers and sleeping with the windows open. It means the kids playing outside many times during the day. It means cool evening weather which makes walks and chatting comfortable. It's SPRING, Las Vegas style, for pete's sake. Granted, 90s in March may be pushing it, but I am loving it. I wish the pool would warm for good so we could fully take advantage of the weather.

Tomorrow I am getting some pampering before Mexico. I opted last month to let our cleaning lady go, which I should post an homage to Paula, so I could use that money elsewhere. I am sure I'll be regretting it when I get home from vacation and REALLY am back into reality with laundry, bathrooms, and dirty floors to face. Tyler is delivering pizzas for BSA fundraiser during the NCAA basketball games. Busy day, just the way I like it!

I [HEART] Harry Potter!

For Christmas I gave Caylee the first four DVDs of Harry Potter and they have since become some of her favorite movies. I have long enjoyed the books, and keep trying to get Kenzie (the only other person who enjoys reading) to become converted to them, but she insists they aren't her style. I don't really get how you can't get into the whole good v. evil, friendship, family love, and freakin' awesome school thing. BUT, there's hope that Caylee will be willing to give the books a go in a few years. Since we've been watching the movies lately, I decided to search last night for the next movie preview since #5's movie hits theaters this summer. It looks so stinkin' cool. They had a surprise viewing (how nice would that be?) for some random people in a theater and their reviews were positive. I don't know if this gives me nerd status, but I just think the characters in the stories are darling. Not only do I think Harry's a cutie, but I also think Ron's funny, and Hermione ROCKS. Don't get me started on the teachers, You-Know-Who, Dumbledore's army, etc. I do, however, devour the books when they're first released, so I started reviewing #5 last night in anticipation of the movie, since I can't remember what happens in The Order of the Phoenix vs. The Half-Blood Prince. Then, I'll re-read #6 before #7 hits the stands. And, Oh yeah, my mom totally preordered me a copy, so I'll be contributing to the billions of dollars that fill JK Rowling's Gringot account. IF, you're a Harry Potter fan, like me, and want to check out the preview for this summer's movie, click here: http://harrypotter.warnerbros.com/ (Leanne, you'll love it if you haven't seen it already.) Tyler, who doesn't necessarily share my passion for . . . well, a lot of things, especially books and movie-going, wasn't as bummed as I was to realize we'll be in France when the movie opens July 13th. So, I am commanding that nobody takes Caylee while I'm gone. It's a date for her and me since nobody else at the Barlow house wants to see it. We'll be in the cool theater come July 24th for a good two and a half hours. From what I hear, you may want to see the show again, so you're welcome to come the 24th. Pencil it in, really, on the 13th if you're a real, true nerd.

And, to add to the post the other night about the Saturday Night Dance. Yeah, there were ICE BOMBS after I left. Can you believe it? Seriously, it's a church dance! Whatever. I am going to pack a spray bottle . . . good idea, Daniel!

Saturday Night Fever

Okay, please forgive this rant. IF, though, you have a daughter (or son, I guess) please take special note of this rant. IF you have a daughter (or son, I guess) you may or may not think this will ever be your child. But, IF you have a daughter (or son, I guess) know this may very well be what happens when you are not around aforementioned daughters or sons.

Tonight was our stake's turn to host the regional youth dance. A church dance. Not too much to have a problem with, right? Right. Good, clean fun. Take many adults (who are taking time from their families on a Saturday night), a decent DJ, youth from our side of the valley, and a house of the Lord and you get a potion for some good times. UNLESS a few of the said youth neglect to take note of the instructions on their dance card, which clearly states what's allowed for dress standards and what's not. And UNLESS they choose to walk right past the sign on the door that re-reminds them that "No shorts and No capris" are allowed. And UNLESS they throw a tantrum that would give my four year old a run for her money. And UNLESS she (or they) continue spouting off their opinion and ranting about not being allowed into a "stupid" youth dance since they are wearing shorts, especially if the shorts are modest, knee length shorts for nearly forty minutes while she (or they) waits for her mother to bring her a change of shorts. Now, don't get me wrong. I thought those who showed up in shorts (or capris) were not hoochies or risking their (or others') eternal salvation. I told them that I appreciated the dilema, but it was not personal and we were not going to "just let it slide this one time." It is what it is, and the dance cards say NO SHORTS. That means, no shorts!

Now, as a parent of daughters (and sons - who, by the way, try to sneak in with their caffeine drinks and baseball caps and play around in the bathroom instead of talking to young women who are dying for the boys' attention) I understand that these kids who spout negative and angry comments at grown adult leaders probably were not taught to speak that way. And don't get me wrong, I definitely embrace the youth having strong opinions. I just don't understand what part of not following the set rules would make a 14-18 year old young women stand in the foyer of the dance she is waiting to get in to and say things like, "At least we're not all having sex in the middle of the street. And I guarantee half of those youth ARE having sex anyway. And YOU'RE [meaning me] worried about my shorts" or "What's the difference in shorts and a skirt? It's a bit more fabric, big deal" or "This is __________ [use ridiculous, stupid, not fair in the blank]" or (one of my personal favorites) "This is one of the reasons I have a problem with this religion. I hate all these Mormons and their rules." After reasonable logic failed, I finally told her I didn't want to hear it from her anymore. If she really wanted to take up the issue, she needed to meet with her stake presidency and discuss it with him since [IRONICALLY] it was her very own stake that so adamantly opposed the proposal to allow shorts to regional dances. I also told her it was our job to enforce the rules, but it wasn't personal against her. When I told her she could make different decisions when she was the leader, she told me she would. Finally, I pointed out if she thought the whole thing was so dumb and unfair, she could protest by going home. No harm, no foul. I seriously ended up with a headache after restraining myself from going off on her (and a few others who were being difficult) any more than I did. I am not naive to think my kids won't maybe try to stretch the boundaries, and I expect they will try to get away with more than they should, but if I EVER found out my kids talked to (or about or around) an adult the way some of the youth did tonight, I will personally accompany them to any social situation to make sure they never got so high on their horse again. I would humble them by good 'ol mom embarrassment. I am not above that. I think it would be pretty hard to mouth off to another adult while MY mom were standing right next to me, or with the threat that she would be accompanying me to the next regional dance. And I am counting on YOU all to let me know if my kids ever misbehave, at a church dance no less.

SIGH. It's sad, really, to have to fight such a silly battle. Not that it's so much a fight as an annoyance. I assume the young people don't get what they are doing and how obnoxious and disrespectful they are being. I assume they have been taught better and may be having a bad day. And I assume that the real reason they are reacting so verbally violently at a church dance, is because they really do like the dorkiness of it all and they really do want to be there. I know it could be worse, but want to think, "Why can't they be better?" Shouldn't I be bugged that the standard is to let the kids think it's okay to speak to an adult that way? I wanted to hug the girl by the time she changed [partly because she shut up, too], but her snide "Yeah, right" when I offered her a well wish to enjoy the dance made me want to call her mom. Oh well, so many mountains, and I don't feel like this molehill is worth much more than a blogging rant. Maybe if enough of us could call these kids on their snotty behavior, they would know it's not going to be accepted any more. In my book, they have to be a lot older to get away with catty, snide behavior.

Why I hate science!

It's 12:36am and I just finished assembling Mackenzie's first science fair project. Now, in all fairness, Mackenzie did the actual experiment and has done all the research. Tonight, while I was at meetings, she typed up all her information. Because I had procrastinated (despite Kenzie's constant reminders) the entire project, we were left with few options since it had to be done in a short amount of time. In light of our healthy living, Kenzie opted for the "chips" project to figure out which kind are the most greasy. She thought she'd get to eat them and was bummed when I told her we were throwing them away after we test them. (In case you're wondering we figured it wasn't actually related to the fat content.) ANYWAY. I have never liked science. While I appreciate understanding how everything works, there is a lot to know about science. And you have to know. It's pretty much the way it works and how it goes, no room for give or take. Like, blood is only made up of certain stuff. You can't just add stuff in there and still call it blood. Don't get me started about the rest of the human anatomy, chemistry, herbology, etc. The beauty about English and Arts is the opportunity to explain and analyze in all sorts of different ways, without anyone having to be wrong. However, with science and math there is a right answer. It stresses me out. Like, the fact that our hypothesis was wrong totally bums me out. I think I should somehow be able to rationalize why the higher fat-contented chips should be more greasy. Oh well. Mackenzie, of course, wants to win first place. (Why, you ask? Because she would get her picture in the yearbook. ) Ugh, yeah. Not so sure how that's all gonna work out. Maybe the field will be small. I can't think there are too many 2nd graders (and their parents) who'd sign up to do this voluntarily. We'll see.

RED

Upon my normal blog checks this afternoon I found Chris' personality assessment, and decided to see if my "color" had changed since I took the hand-written version in college. You can do it too, here:
http://www.thecolorcode.com/profile/index.html

It wasn't too hard, too long, or even too personal. In fact, I thought some of the questions didn't have the right answer, so I was forced to pick something that didn't really fit, or seemed to broad. It doesn't matter, though, I am still a RED. This is what a red is:

Congratulations. You are RED. REDS are motivated by POWER. They seek productivity and need to look good to others. Simply stated, REDS want their own way. They like to be in the driver's seat and willingly pay the price to be in a leadership role. REDS value whatever gets them ahead in life, whether it be in their careers, school endeavors, or personal life. What REDS value, they get done. They are often workaholics. They will, however, resist doing anything that doesn't interest them.
REDS like to be right. They value approval from others for their intelligence and practical approach to life, and want to be respected for it. REDS are confident, proactive, and visionary; but can also be arrogant, selfish, and insensitive. When others interact with you, as a RED you respond to them best if they are precise, factual, direct, AND show no fear!

Now, I feel I should self-analyze (Dad, you're right. Blogs are totally self-indulgent.) I really admire the other colors, not my own. In fact, I wish I weren't a RED. I know, I know, "It is what it is" and I am not saying I don't seek productivity, but it sounds so shallow to think I "NEED" to look good to others. In all honesty, though, I don't want to disappoint or upset other people's expectiations, and like to stretch my limits. I do like to be in the driver's seat (literally and figuratively) as most you know and can will attest, but I don't know that I would do "WHATEVER" to get me ahead in life . . . unless you consider that having a family is the upmost important thing in my value system and that's what I've committed to, then I guess that is true of me too. I don't know that I would say I was a workaholic, but I like to be busy ("productive") and I DO resist things that don't interest me, like unloading and reloading the dishwasher a million times a week, ICK. The second paragraph of explanation makes me sound like I am on the prowl for someone to attack and I make people scared. I hope not. I know I have a tendency to be too bossy, opinionated, and confrontive, but I have also learned not to be attached to too many of my opinions since I value that others won't always agree with me. I am, contrary to what the survey says about me, okay to have people disagree with me . . . it makes me think more, helps me evolve, and adds more depth to my red-ness. There are so many people I admire becuase they are different than me and SO much better at handling life and what it throws at us. I am trying to evolve my RED personality into different shades. Like a purple, still red with a little bit of the loyal, dedicated BLUE. Or maybe pink: red with some WHITE that would help me not be so prone to confrontation, but seek peace and harmony instead. Even if I were orange. I would be able to let loose if I had a little more YELLOW mixed with my red. I am curious about each of you, so try it out, and let me know your color.

Occular Emergency

Sometimes there are medical emergencies I just can't ignore. Unlike my "Lovary" that I keep putting off (actually, I did get an ultrasound appt. for the 13th) this morning I woke up with a VERY imflamed eye. By 8am I had called my fabulous opthomologist at his office, on his cell phone, and FINALLY at home. I am sure it's not how he wanted to start his weekend, but he was fabulous about coming in and diagnosing my issues. (Well, one of my issues.) Apparantly I have a severe bacterial cornea infection. Doesn't that sound fun? It hurts like a sonofagun, and since he had to dialate my left eye, it's now swollen, and red, and watery and light sensitive. Also, you know when you get poked in the eye and it makes your nose run . . . I feel like I've got a water faucet attached to my face next to this bum eye. Quite the picture of lovliness since I keep jamming a tissue up my nose so it won't run. (Yes, just like Nate does!) I'm on mega eye drops (antibiotic and steriod) and hopefully I'll feel better tomorrow. Or maybe I'll have a super strong eye ball due to the steriods. I just keep thinking, "how bad would it stink to totally lose sight?" or have this feeling more often?" I shouldn't complain since it could be worse. I do, however, think we will be seriously saving for some lasik surgery for me asap. Hope everyone is having a great (er) Saturday morning!

How can I resist?

I try to think back to when my other kids were the same age as Brock and it's such a blur that I don't have any choice but to be impressed and thrilled with everything he does . . . well, sometimes.

I am not so happy with him when he throws his food off his high chair when he gets done eating it, but I do like that he'll pull his tray off by himself and climb in all by himself. He's a climber, so I regularly tie all the chair legs to the table legs so he can't pull the chairs out to climb up on them to then start table dancing, BUT he hasn't figure out how to climb out of his crib. Consequently he has learned to play for awhile in his crib until I key into his babble being him and not the TV or radio or computer which usually plays simulataneously at our house. He has managed to figure out he can use anything to lift him JUST high enough to get to the piano pew (thanks to a pillow), the water dispenser on the fridge (thanks to a pot), or any toothbrush that's not his own (thanks to the bathroom stool). Oh well. Since it's just the two of us several times a week, I enjoy that Brock is a cooperative shopper . . . not so much a cooperative sit-in-the-cart-er, though. As long as I can keep him busy he's cool to sit down, but as soon as I turn away (or the snacks run out) he's practicing his gymnastics on the shopping cart. I think at almost 18 months it's fun that he likes to play chase and tag, just no so fun when he runs out into the street instead of to his carseat OR down the hall with the remote controll OR into the pantry with my purse OR out of the post office when I am trying to mail a package. And, of course, with the running comes the throwing: a ball, a toy, a sippy cup over two pews at church, his jacket out of the shopping cart (17 times in one aisle at the grocery store), ALL his bed paraphenalia from his crib, ALL the contents out of my bathroom drawers, whatever folded clothes I have just finished folding, his brother's favorite race cars (usually at the end of the chasing), and/or rocks. He's all boy. He's MY boy, and I love him to bits, all his naughty, mischievious bits.