Happy 4th of July 2012!

Love the effects of the camera at night.

Fact: Holidays are so much more fun with kids. Honestly, before kids it just seemed like holidays kind of floated by in a daze with quasi-bland memories that didn't stick. And now? Now it's hard not to remember these days. I suppose that's why I remember my holidays as a kid growing up with all my brothers. It was always fun no matter what. I grew up and all of a sudden, fireworks were boring and the Christmas tree lights just didn't seem to get plugged in every day.

Today, as I lit fireworks and watched the big ones go off in the town display, I realized that everything is beautiful and fun when you get to live it through the eyes of your children. I can guarantee you that I won't forget watching the lights on Alex and Abby's faces when they held their sparklers for the first time ever. They were finally old enough this year and it was magical to them. Every time a firework was finished exploding, Alex ran over to the hose and yelled, "Fire!! I'll put it out!" then doused the glowing embers like a miniature firefighter (which was what I'm sure he felt like the entire time). We had a wonderful day today. It was probably the best 4th of July I've experienced since I was a kid myself.

Oh, and it turns out that during the craziness of the day, I discovered the key to getting my kids to fall asleep in less than two minutes. Simply let them eat mounds of cupcakes, marshmallows and whatever else they can find with sugar in it. Then let them down multiple bottles of high fructose laden beverages. In between all of this (and lots of hot dogs), swim all day long. Finish the day by staying up way, way too late watching and shooting fireworks, then watch them as they yawn twice and all but pass out within moments. It. Was. Awesome. And it also works on husbands apparently. Because Josh fell asleep in approximately 14 seconds just a few shy minutes later than the kids. What does the pregnant lady do? I stay up and blog about it.   

At the firework show. Alex was in quite good spirits and loving the day.

Josh lighting some big booms in tiny packages. Turns out you can't stand close or you get showered with bits of exploding material. Lesson learned.

My patriotic kiddos.

Look how big my kids are getting!

Firefighter Alex - on the job!

Abby's first sparkler at 4 years old.

Alex's first sparkler at 5 years old. He loved this!

Shooting fireworks at Grandma and Grandpa's house is awesome. My dad was on his way back from Missouri so he wasn't there this year.

So I hope that you're Independence Day was as fulfilling and joyous as our was. I truly am one thankful gal today. God bless America and God bless our freedom to enjoy days just like this with our families.

Little Fish

I finally broke down, or perhaps the term should be grew a spine, and got my kids enrolled in swim lessons. Last year I took them to the local pool and we basically ended up sitting in the wade pool the entire time. It was fun for the kids, but I was a nervous mama watching two kids in the water. I am not exactly the best swimmer. I can stay afloat so therefore am capable of not dying if dropped in the ocean. But I'm no Olympian, that's for sure. Josh, on the other hand, is a fish in water. Apparently he and his brother were very much water kids growing up so Josh is always telling me that our kids will be good swimmers. So after much deliberation on where and when to sign up for swim lessons, I ended up deciding that the swim lesson program at the YMCA was our best option. And boy howdy! Am I ever glad I did this!

Alex and Abby ended up in the same class. It was a two week course where they go four days a week for 45 minutes. Each instructor got 4 or 5 kids and it was off to the deep end they went. The first day I was fairly nervous. I walked them over to the teacher at the deeper end of the pool (four feet or so...no feet touching the bottom) and she told them both to hop on in. They spent the first couple of days clinging on to the side of the pool for dear life but slowly they began to trust their water instincts more and more. By the end of week one, they were both putting their heads under water (Alex more so than Abby). Abby may have been a little leery of the full under water dunk but she took to the doggy-paddle like a little pro! The teacher was super nice and really awesome with the kids and she was even surprised at how fast miss Abby could go in the water. She sped right past her brother.

By the end of the second week it was all the instructor could do to keep the their heads above water...in a good way. Not the drowning type of way. Two weeks of swim lessons and lo and behold! I have two little fish. They are by no means drown-proof as they still need more instruction. But they can float on  their backs, go under water for good chunks of time, doggie paddle fairly well without flotation and really well with flotation, and have a great deal more respect for water (and also are somewhat scarily fearless of it now). The teacher talked to me at the end and said that Abby and Alex were easily the most improved in the class so I'm a proud mama. We then joked about how her class was the craziest and how out of four kids, there was usually only one head above water at a time. So I'm not going to be dunking them in the deep end without an adult and they still need floatation stuff for safety, but I couldn't be more proud of the little ones. Turns out Josh was right. They're gonna be fish in the water.

Here is a video of what the kids are like post-swimming lessons. They are begging me for a bigger pool. The water was too cold so Abby didn't want to go under. 

 

 

Getting ready to jump in at swim lessons.

Alex lovin' the deep end.

Abby also lovin' the deep end.

Alex's normal position in the small pool.

By the end of the second week it was all the instructor could do to keep the their heads above water...in a good way. Not the drowning type of way. Two weeks of swim lessons and lo and behold! I have two little fish. They are by no means drown-proof as they still need more instruction. But they can float on  their backs, go under water for good chunks of time, doggie paddle fairly well without flotation and really well with flotation, and have a great deal more respect for water (and also are somewhat scarily fearless of it now). The teacher talked to me at the end and said that Abby and Alex were easily the most improved in the class so I'm a proud mama. We then joked about how her class was the craziest and how out of four kids, there was usually only one head above water at a time. So I'm not going to be dunking them in the deep end without an adult and they still need floatation stuff for safety, but I couldn't be more proud of the little ones. Turns out Josh was right. They're gonna be fish in the water.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I've always wanted to donate my hair to Locks of Love. It's such a good cause to give to kids who have no hair because of cancer or other things. Well, I'm 33 years old so I figured that it's about time I follow through with this constant life 'goal'. I've been growing my hair out for 1 1/2 years now in hopes of getting the required 10 inches to donate. The last time I went to get my hair cut, they said I needed about two more inches so I've been waiting patiently for it to grow, grow, grow! My pony tail was finally measuring up (according to Josh's measurements) and so I was ready for my big trip the hair salon.

Just so you know, I've been growing it so that it would still be shoulder-length when it was cut off. I live off pony-tails so it's a must for my sanity. I'm not exactly the 'let your locks flow in the wind' kind of gal, ya know? So Mandy and I went off to get our hair cut to a place that participates in the Locks of Love program. It was exciting! Chopping all my hair off and sending it away to make wigs for those that need them most. How cool is that? I took in a few pictures of what I wanted my hair to look like when it was all finished and the lady was more than willing to oblige. Turns out that she was a bit...flighty? Is that the word? She measured me up and told me that it's free to donate. Turns out that this means you get your hair washed, conditioned, cut and styled for free if you donate. Who knew? Can't sneer at the price, that's for sure. She had it ready to cut in the braid, I asked her over and over if she was absolutely sure that it would be down to my shoulders and pony-tail worthy. She guaranteed me this was true. I said I wanted to donate 10". She chopped it off with the clippers. She held out my giant braid to me and said, "There you go. A 14" donation!" As my hair (or what was left of it) fell around my face, I said to myself with jaw agape, "That is not shoulder length!" I went out looking like a drowned rat (as most people do right after a wash and cut). My wavy hair started to dry and get even shorter and I started to think about strange it was to see myself in the mirror. But it's just hair and it will grow back. I'm still excited that I got to donate. I think I'll do this a few more times in my life. It leaves you feeling like you actually contributed to something worthy. It's a good feeling. Click on the picture so you can see a better view of it.

Holy crusted hairballs, Batman! That's some short hair!

So, the shock has officially worn off and I'm growing accustomed to my new do, but I still can't believe how little hair I have or how little shampoo I have to use now. I've never had hair this short before, but it's all good. I actually kind of like it. I feel like I lost 2 pounds off of my head and I'm a lot cooler outside now. I miss the pony-tail but who knows. Maybe I'll stick with short for awhile. We'll see how it 'grows' on me. (Pun intended.)

Pickles the Tailless Wonder

Every evening around 7:00, we take the kiddos outside to expel one last burst of their never ending energy. On Monday evening we did the same thing. I told Josh to shoo the kids outside and that I'd meet him out there after I run to the bathroom (pregnancy bladder ya know). I had just got into the bathroom when I hear Josh screaming madly at something outside. I ran out there to find Josh yelling at a big white shepard-mix dog running wildly and quite scarily in our backyard. He yelled to get the kids inside. The dog was pretty scared, but scared dogs, when backed into a corner, can become angry biting dogs very quickly. I was naturally just worried initially about the kids, but the moment they were safely in the house, I ran back out with one major concern in my panicked mind. Our rabbits.

It's pretty warm out these days and Pickles and Nacho have burrows they've made underground in their outside ground pen. Two years now, without a single event worth worrying about and it all went to pot in a few moments of dog terror. The dog was going nuts trying to escape our fenced yard and I hollered at Josh if it got to our rabbits. He said he couldn't find one of them but the other one was out in the back of the yard scared out of its mind. The fence was torn up and there was evidence of their burrows being dug out by the dog. Though, I was sure Nacho would bolt the second I walked up to her, she was nothing but grateful for me picking her up and rescuing her. I put her in her cage and went back to search for Pickles (a.k.a the nice one). No sign of her...except her tail. I was certain she was dead. I mean, you see an entire tail on the ground with fur all around and you know it's gonna be bad, right? Pickles, that lucky bunny, had somehow escaped certain death and made it back to her burrow. Thank the good Lord those bunnies are great diggers because if that burrow wasn't so deep, she'd be dog fodder.

While I'm trying to get poor frightened Pickles out of her hole, the stupid neighbor dog went through the fence and ran back across the street. Through the fence...as in not the gate, but through the actual fencing. I have no idea how it did it, but Josh said it was gone so I concentrated on Pickles. I got her out and she was making some pretty awful noises from the pain she was in. That blasted dog had ripped her tail clean off of her leaving naught but a gaping 2" circular hole where it used to be. No bone. No fur. Just a hole. I was pretty mad because this dog is notorious for getting out and it's not the friendly type. So, I called the non-emergency police line to report the attack and damage. The police got there at the same time that the owner walked up and found her dog out. It was a huge mess and I felt bad for calling the cops on her, but seriously...control your dogs people! You lose a rabbit in the country and you expect it. It's a violation to have dogs running free in the city so the owner was cited for that. After we wrote our police reports and the officer took pictures of the 'crime scene', I rushed Pickles to the emergency vet so she wouldn't die of infection or shock.

I'm happy to say that Pickles is safely back at home and sewed back up properly. She has no tail now, but at least she didn't bite the big one. One extremely large vet bill later, I'm still trying to contact the chick with the stupid dog so she can pay me back for the bill. If I don't reach her by tonight then it's off to court I go. *sigh* The court date is on July 10th unless I drop charges, but $300 for a rabbit vet bill is insane and it was definitely not our fault. The charges are already against her for reimbursement, but here's hoping for an easy fix and for her cooperation. For the next 10 days Pickles is an indoor bunny until her stitches are out and her meds are gone. I hope that 10 days goes fast because her sister, Nacho, misses the company. Here's to our newly remodeled bunny: Pickles the Tailless Wonder. (Poor Pickles.)

That's Pickles new tailless look. about 8 large stitches and zero fluffy bunny tail.

Indoor Pickles is getting lots of attention right now.

I'm happy to say that Pickles is safely back at home and sewed back up properly. She has no tail now, but at least she didn't bite the big one. One extremely large vet bill later, I'm still trying to contact the chick with the stupid dog so she can pay me back for the bill. If I don't reach her by tonight then it's off to court I go. *sigh* The court date is on July 10th unless I drop charges, but $300 for a rabbit vet bill is insane and it was definitely not our fault. The charges are already against her for reimbursement, but here's hoping for an easy fix and for her cooperation. For the next 10 days Pickles is an indoor bunny until her stitches are out and her meds are gone. I hope that 10 days goes fast because her sister, Nacho, misses the company. Here's to our newly remodeled bunny: Pickles the Tailless Wonder. (Poor Pickles.)

Our Annual Zoo Visit

Every year around this time, we take a fun trip to the zoo. There was a brief period in my life where I wondered if zoos were an acceptable form of entertainment due to the fact that wild animals are caged. But as soon as I had kids, the possibility of that notion disappeared instantly. It's fun and educational and a downright good time to spend with the kids. My kids love, love, love to go every year and right around March or April, I get to hear them begging me constantly to go. They have their favorite animals each year that they simply can't miss out on seeing. Of course, every year they seem to change for Alex, but Abby is consistent thus far in her desire to see the big animals like the giraffes and elephants. This year was even more fun because the load of stuff I had to drag along was significantly decreased. No wagon or giant bag of items I might possibly need. I've learned to just wing it when it comes to certain things. Like second sets of clothes 'just in case'. I figure we'll survive one way or the other. Granted, next year it will be back to stroller and baby with me, but I think I've got a method now so I'll be great. I'm really happy that I have two kids who are excited about things like this. My poor friend Mandy has two kids who are not exactly at their happiest when it comes to the annual zoo trip. I feel bad for her as I know that we both are excited to go ourselves and used to go together annually pre-kid phase. Nevertheless, it was super fun and I was glad that Alex and Abby had a great time. They already want to go again. Maybe in the fall when it's not starting to reach the high 90's.

 

Abby Milking the fake cow...with a strangely devious look on her face.

I shall call this picture: Ironic (ya know...because he's allergic to milk. Get it?)

Make a silly face! wait a second...I'm the only one with the silly face.

The rainforest at the zoo. Fun stuff!

Family photo op time.

1 Mile

I decided that I wanted to add to my hope for a healthier pregnancy this time around by staying more fit. Now, seeing as how I can't really just jump into a new heavy duty routine, I said I'd start by making myself walk 1 mile every night after the kids go to bed. This, added with the already many walks I take each day/week with the kids and the running around I do with them in the backyard, should be enough to keep me in check. So I tucked the kids in last night and off I went for my 1 mile walk. Now, in case you didn't know, a mile is 10 blocks. This makes it quite easy to measure distance when one lives in town. So yeah, 10 whopping blocks. I mean, heck. I was speed walking twice that distance while the kids biked pre-pregnancy without a single problem. Easy right? Apparently I was poorly mistaken. This is the run down of what went through my head during my walk:

Block 1: Easy cheesy! This is gonna be great! Maybe I'll go two miles.
Block 2: I feel my muscles waking up! It's a good hurt. Yay!
Block 2: Wait. What is that weird pain in my hip? Oh well. Stretch it out Jess! Doin' great!
Block 3: Huh. That pain isn't going away. Strange. And...it's kinda...spreading to my back.
Block 4: Holy buckets of cow dung! Why is my hip throbbing like that??
Block 5: Great. My hip gave up. It must have abandoned ship around mid block. You only need one fully functioning hip, right? I can still do this...I think.
Block 6: My other hip has now assumed all responsibility for walking but it's bearable. Ow! Was that my knee?? Why did it buckle?? New pain! Hello Mr. lower back. I know you're on fire, but it's only 4 more blocks.
Block 7: Mother of !@#$! Why are my ribs hurting?? I'm only 3 1/2 months pregnant, for the love of all things holy! GRRRR...
Block 8: Is that my house? I can see my house. Oh thank the good Lord...I'm coming Mr. House.
Block 9: Hello house. I left my right hip on block 5 somewhere and my back is trying to pop out through my stomach. No one will ever know it wasn't officially 1 mile. You won't tell anyone Mr. House, k? *dragging body up the steps into the house* Ugh...I feel 30 weeks pregnant! *sigh* I'll try again tomorrow...maybe I'll even find my hip waiting for me.

Pregnancy. Isn't it magical? But I can feel the baby moving as I write this so it's all good.

The Jig Is Up

I'm officially out of the first trimester. Yay! Wait a second. Why am I rejoicing about this? Supposedly, you're supposed to feel super awesome during the second trimester. No more nausea. No more vomiting. No more cases of super sleepiness. If that is true, then I got hosed. I've actually felt worse during this last week than I've felt during the last month. I've spent more time getting familiar with my toilet than I'd like to admit to. If you can count and memorize the rings of hard water stains on your toilet, then you know you've spent too much time hugging it. But nevertheless, I am truly moving on to stage two of the pregnancy. So I suppose that is worth rejoicing about even if I writhe in agony with heartburn at night that may or may not be dissolving the inner layer of my esophagus.

So why did I title this 'The jig is up'? Well, I've been under the apparently false assumption that I've been hiding my morning chucking trip to the bathroom very well from the kids. It's strangely a well laid routine, quite honestly. I can sense the urgency in my stomach and go slap some foods in front of the kids then make a hasty retreat to the toilet. I shut the door, and try to be as quiet as you can in such a situation. As the kids eat and laugh away the time at the table, I'm saying good morning to the toilet. I think I've even subconsciously named our toilet because for some reason, every time I hoist myself off the floor, I mutter, "Ugh. Never again". :) Anyhow, as this has been my "routine" every single morning for going on three months, and the kids have never asked about what I'm doing in the bathroom, I assumed that they were otherwise clueless on the facts. Wrongo!

Friday evening, I'd been feeling particularly queasy after a long day at the zoo. I stayed very hydrated so no worries there, but the day before that I'd felt a bit off as well so no big surprise. Well, try as I might to keep it all down, it just wasn't in the cards that evening. I had a bath ready for Abby and she was about to get in when the following conversation occurred:
Me: "Abby honey, can you go out for a minute?" 
Abby: "Why?"
Me: "I need to do something really fast." I shoo her out and told Josh with urgency in my voice,  "Josh, keep the kids out of the bathroom for a few minutes."
Josh (confused): "Why? What's wrong?"
Abby (as I'm shutting the door): "Mommy needs to throw up."

Fail. Yep. That about covers it. So yeah. The jig is up. Guess I didn't hide it at all. I asked Abby later if she knew why mommy was throwing up. I felt I needed to explain so she didn't think something was wrong with me. She said, "Because the baby makes your tummy not feel good sometimes." I shall never accuse her of being unobservant. But at least I know they understand the situation for the most part. Now if I could only explain to them that the baby won't be popping out through a tiny window that my belly button opens. Get it? The belly 'button' opens the window. That was thought up by Alex and Abby. Not me. Ahh...through the eyes of a child.

I also have a little treat for my Aunts that are reading this blog. They've asked for belly pictures. I gave it some thought and have decided that I'd do it this time. I've officially 'popped'. So I will give you the 12 week and the 16 week shots this go around.

12 weeks. Just a little bulge, but I already miss this waist size. *sniff*

16 weeks. And at this point I've only gained 1 whopping pound. Amazing what four weeks can do, isn't it? That means it's all baby and I'm not a total cow...right?