Two years ago

My baby will be two years old tomorrow. Two whole years. I get all nostalgic thinking about what a teeny little bean he was and what it took to get him here. So I thought I'd write about it, but a warning though, this has the potential to be a long and candid post.

It all actually started two years and four days ago. I was only seven months along, he wasn't actually due until July 24, on Pioneer day. It was late at night, like two in the morning or something, and the contractions started coming fast and furious. Luckily for us, we had planned for this, since my pregnancies rarely make it past seven months, and my mom was staying with us helping me with the kids, so that I could try and stay pregnant. That was the plan anyway.

John rushed me to the hospital where my doctor delivered babies, and the plan was to try and stop the contractions or ship me off to another hospital if they couldn't stop them because they "don't do preemies". I got a round of steroids first off to help his lungs mature, and some terbutaline (we're old friends) to stop the contractions. When the first round of medicine wasn't working, they had to bring in the Magnesium. And wow, is that the most evil, vile, garbage in the world. Seriously, run! I really had no idea what I was in for. When John called my dad to tell him what was going on, my dad being the chemist that he is, couldn't believe that that's what they were giving me.

It had to be hands down the worst two days of my life. The flu is funner. By a long shot. They told me I would probably be nauseous, and they probably mentioned a few other side effects, but boy were we not prepared for what the next two days would bring. Besides the nausea (I could barely keep anything down despite the medicine they gave me to help with that) I had a migraine which I didn't even recognize until it was almost over. I was so weak and out of it, I didn't even remember (or care) when John brought a family friend over to give me a blessing. I was so weak, and my whole body hurt, and it progressively got worse. The IV in my wrist made me have to pee often, and I would call for a nurse to come help me to the bathroom at which point I would catch glimpses of my self in the mirror. Death warmed over would be an accurate description. John said I had never looked worse. This was my fourth kid, we'd been married for a decade at this point, and for the first time, he was really scared. It got so bad, that calling for help to walk the 6 feet to the bathroom was too much, and I finally let them put the catheter in. (you know it's bad when that sounds like a good idea). I still needed help rolling over, because my body would ache so badly and I couldn't get comfortable. TV, music, and even opening my eyes were pretty much out of the question, besides having a horrible migraine which I was past even recognizing, my eyelids hurt. They were so heavy. It took so much effort just to open them. After two days of this, I got to go home. But not without a special pump in my thigh that automatically dispensed medicine into me every few hours. Some lady had to come in and teach us how to do it. John was supposed to stab me in the leg every day to change the "injection site" and what not. The medicine made me all jittery. I imagine that's what drinking a jillion cups of coffee would do to you. Good thing I wasn't supposed to get out of bed so that when I was lying wide awake at night, not able to sleep, wishing I could DO something, at least I knew I was gonna get to stay in bed during the day and could nap when the medicine would let me. It was super fun. At least it was a million times better than the magnesium. My mom made pot roast one night. It was the best. I got to eat in bed while everyone slaved over me hand and foot. I would have enjoyed it more if it weren't for all the guilt. After a decade of being "the mom" It's hard to sit back and just be taken care of. That's my job. But I know, I know, I was taking care of the baby. Something only I could do at that point. So I did my best and stayed in bed like a good girl, and read and watched TV, and tried not to think about the fact that my mom was downstairs doing my job and she's been retired from being the mom of little kids for quite awhile. She already raised her four. Unfortunately it only lasted two days. Then my water broke. At midnight. There's no going back from that. Fact: once your water breaks you have like 24 hours to get the kid out before risk of infection. Four days. That's all I managed to give my baby. Four days. Two of them being the worst EVER. I'm fairly certain, that if I were to know the ugly details in advance, I'd still do it all again. I don't know the statistics on how much developing goes on with those steroid shots, but if it helped, it would be worth it. First day home from the hospital

Quiet time with Grandma before she goes home to Utah
So we go back to the hospital the same one that "doesn't do preemies" because that's what we're supposed to do, and so they stick an IV in my wrist and they have to call whatever head doctor is on call to figure out what to do with me. The baby will be coming that day, but it's midnight, and they need someone to decide which hospital I get to deliver at- Banner Desert (closer), or St. Joseph's (a lot farther away). Also they need to figure out how to get me there -do I get to fly in a helicopter (faster, and infinitely cooler) or go in an ambulance. Guess which scenario I got? Yeah, the farthest hospital and the slower, less exciting way. Oh and remember how they stuck an IV in my arm the minute I got to the hospital? Well an hour later I have to pee bad! In normal circumstances this would be dire, but this was so past normal. And the worst of it is, is that my contractions are squeezing my bladder, and the full bladder is making the contractions worse, oh and I forgot to mention that all this bladder squeezing is going down while riding in the ambulance, probably while passing the closer hospital. Good thing they had to change the sheets anyway from the amniotic fluid leaking out of me, cause I'm fairly certain I lost control at some point.

We get to the hospital and I am totally begging to pee. They gave me a bed pan. How the heck have people used these through the ages? Plus it doesn't help that I generally have stage fright, when it comes to stuff like that, and there were like a half a dozen people watching me try to lay down in a bed and pee into a bed pan. That so does not work. I guess they were afraid the baby would fall out into the toilet.

So of course the anesthesiologist is giving some other lucky woman her epidural, and she will be with me in twenty minutes. Unfortunately twenty minutes was way too long for me, and I still had the option to get one, but it probably wouldn't kick in until after the baby was out. Okay, so I know that there are super women out there that think that natural childbirth is beautiful, and that was the way women for centuries have done it, but I love a good epidural. That to me is a beautiful thing. I'm irritated that I didn't get my epidural, and I'm irritated that if I had gotten to ride in the helicopter, I might have gotten there in time to get one. So after being wheeled into the most shiny, sterile surgical room I have ever been in, after feeling like I was being ripped in half (surprisingly I didn't tear at all), after having the nurse say to me , "Stop screaming Mrs. Berrett" when I was totally unaware that I was screaming, out popped my beautiful, totally healthy, 4 pounds, 8 ounces little baby boy. That's big for me. Only Zach was bigger- by 5 whole ounces. We named him Christopher David Berrett.

One thing I can say for St. Joe's- they have an awesome NICU. If anything were wrong, that is probably the hospital I would want to be at. Luckily nothing was wrong, he was just little, and weak, so on the day that I got to go home, he got his own very first ambulance ride to a hospital a lot closer to home. That was a good thing, because twice a day for the next three weeks while my mom took care of my other kids, I went down and visited my baby. He was the sweetest thing, and I knew he needed me, and I would hate to leave him. And finally he started to grow, and got to come home. Two years later, he is still the sweetest thing, and still worth all the trouble he gives me on a daily basis. A doctor who specializes in high risk pregnancies (like me) finally gave me a possible answer as to why I deliver so early. She thinks my uterus is mis-shapen. I guess that's something you can only tell from an MRI, and since I have never had that done, the doctors wouldn't know. She said that each consecutive pregnancy was at a greater risk for me to deliver earlier and earlier. I think she was surprised that this being my fourth, I managed to make it to 32 weeks. Any more pregnancies and 28 weeks or even less would not be unexpected. She said I could have a surgery that may or may not fix the problem. John and I decided that four was our magic number so we got him fixed instead. It took me over an hour to write this, so now it is officially May 31st. Happy Birthday Christopher!

It's a small world

A month or so ago, a friend of mine sent me an e-mail asking me to join Facebook, never having heard of it, naturally I said "sure!" It's another on-line community thingy. I figured the blogging thing was working out so well for me, so why not?

I still don't really get it, I guess it's more social, and blogging is more personal, but the biggest bonus is that I have managed to reconnect with a couple friends. One friend from jr. high and high school I am particularly excited about, she was a good friend and a lot of fun. She's now a high school history teacher, but is getting bored with that so she just joined the Peace Corps and will be moving to Africa for a little over two years. We have plans to meet up this summer when I go to Utah and catch up on the past decade of our lives. I wonder if she'll have internet access? maybe I could convince her to blog so that I can keep up with her adventures.

Today I got a surprise in my in-box. A girl in Germany by the name of Kirsten Berrett wanted to befriend me on Facebook (for obvious reasons- I'm just that cool) I knew a Kristen Barrett once, well still do, but we don't exactly keep in touch, but if I run into her, we say hi and stuff, but this is definitely cooler. I'm not sure what part of Germany she's from, I will be in Frankfurt in a couple weeks, but that would be kinda weird if I were to send her a message- "hi I just met you on the internet, and I'm flying across the world, wanna meet?" That would creep me out. Can you say "stalker?"

Thank you, Nick

I just got home from book club tonight. We read "the ultimate gift." I liked the book, but for once, I hear the movie is better. John is of course, out of town. He's in Colorado this time. There was a time when that would have meant that I would have to miss out on something like book club. I can't tell you how many times that has happened. It's become something to expect almost. I have ____ planned for this day, therefore, John will be out of town. Murphy's law. (If I ever figure out who Murphy is, I'm gonna give him a swift kick in the pants.)

But now, I have a Nick. He's 11 1/2, and is excited to take on more responsibility and is happy to be my right hand. I got to leave for two whole hours, spend time talking and laughing with other women, come home past 10 at night, and find all my babies put to bed and sound asleep. What a blessing. Just today, he asked me, "Mom, do you think I am getting more mature?" So yes, Nick I do. Right now, I can appreciate just how mature you are becoming and I am very grateful for it, and totally wanted to blog about it so that there would be a permanent record out there of what a great kid you are, with just one of the reasons why I appreciate you.

I am loving having a babysitter on hand. I was kinda worried how summer would go with all these kids in the house all day, but (knock on wood) so far it is great! I got to go to Weight Watchers today without Christopher. - Everyone noticed. "Where's Christopher?" they would ask? and not because he's so cute (which he is) but because he is (and I am totally not exaggerating here) the naughtiest child there. I go the one session where you can bring little kids and not get dirty looks. And still I spend more time chasing after him than I do listening. I bring all sorts of toys and bribes and treats, but he doesn't care. There are cabinets to get into and bathrooms to play in and front doors to escape from, and other kids toys and treats to steal as well.

So, thanks, Nick. Thanks for giving me back some of my sanity. Thanks for being such a big help to me, thanks for taking such good care of my other babies, and putting them to bed so that I can feel like I can go out every once in awhile. And at the risk of sounding totally embarrassing and mushy- I love you!

Rainy Day

Like everyone else, my kids took full advantage of the abnormally low-for-May-in-Arizona temperatures and the rain to have some good clean fun. And because I am at that point where everything is a blogging-photo-op, I took pictures. Of course, I didn't leave the comfort of my doorway, because I am past the point where getting wet and cold isn't fun anymore. I think the older kids took it as an excuse just to play with the umbrellas, and even with the umbrellas, it still took some coaxing to get Zach out in the rain. Christopher of course didn't care. It was all great fun to him.

sometimes I wonder...

Since the kid won't talk, there are times I really wonder what is going on in that little brain of his. Some days I catch him doing this. Just sitting there with his thumbs in his ears. He's not even interacting with anyone else. He's just in his own little world. Pretending to be a moose? Playing with an imaginary friend? Testing his hearing?

Why I like my camera phone

This is what I found when I came out of McDonald's the other day. It was the biggest stinking thing. That's my Yukon XL. I elected to try and push it out, instead of just driving out and risk scratching up my car. I have a painful sliver embedded in my finger for my effort.

I miss skiing.

I love to ski. But man, do I stink at it. Horrible, really. It's been more than 14 years, my little brother took me skiing on my 18th birthday, and that was the last time. Even back then, I stuck to the green circles (easiest) and the blue squares (medium) but I knew my limits and stayed well away from the black diamonds.

My parents took me skiing a couple times before it really took and I couldn't get off the ground. My feet were big for a kid, so I had to rent skis that were too long for me and I hated it. Sometime around jr. high, my dad took me night skiing, and that was so much better, I actually managed to stay upright except when I threw myself to the ground before hitting the building at the bottom of the hill. I hadn't learned how to turn yet, so I just kept my skis parallel, flew down the mountain, prayed nobody got in my way, threw myself to the ground, then did it all over again. It was fun.

A year or two later, back in Utah, they had a program where you could take ski lessons through the school and you actually got out of school once a week for a month. No kidding, my mom was waiting for a phone call to come to the hospital. I majorly crashed and burned every week. The most memorable time was when I was racing some kids down the hill, and tried to hit the switch back, but was going too fast, so I sailed over the switchback trail, and over the side of the cliff. I probably landed 20-30 feet or so down the side of the mountain. Luckily the powder was soft, and like 10 feet deep. I wasn't hurt. What made me think about this particular instance this evening was because I read a friends blog and she made a comment about wanting to take a nap to avoid things she doesn't want to deal with. Back to the story- so there I am, face down in the snow, one of my skis is who knows where, the other is 6 feet in front of me, with only about a foot of it sticking straight up out of the snow, without moving my body, I glance around for half a second, decide it was more than I wanted to deal with at the moment, lay my face back down in the snow and decide to take a nap.

Unfortunately my flight over the side of the mountain didn't go unnoticed by my fellow skiers, and I can hear them up there at the top of the cliff screaming that I was dead, and they were totally freaking out. Since I can't sleep with all the screaming going on, I lift up my head to tell them "I'm not dead", at which point someone recognizes me and then proceeds to climb down to help me. The nerve. How am I supposed to sleep when people are helping me? Obviously I can't, so I am forced to try and forge my way through snow up to my chest, retrieve my ski (I think she grabbed the other one) then try and climb back up the side of the mountain. - it wasn't a sheer straight up and down cliff, but a definite drop off, and the snow made it nearly impossible, so it took forever to get back up. We nearly missed the bus.

Boy do I miss skiing. I totally regret not having good, close ski resorts here. I can't believe Nick is 11 and has never been. Seriously I feel like he's deprived. Maybe some year, we can take a ski vacation or something, and I can learn to snowboard. I hear that rocks.

Late to the party (as usual)

So uh, how many seasons is this? 5? 6? 7? I'm fairly certain I could name three or four of the winners, but I've never been into American Idol before. This year however, I became a closet fan.

Basically I got tired of getting "that look". It never fails. I'd be out with friends or people in general and it's like you could tell they were either fishing for something to talk about (am I that boring?) or they were so excited about something and needed to talk about it, they'd turn to me with that look of anticipation and ask "So! do you watch American Idol?" You could just read all the possibilities of topics running across their minds.

"who do you want to win?"
"who do you think is going to win?"
"what do you think about this person?"
"what do you think about that person?"
"what did you think about ____ getting voted off last night?"

And all I'd have for them was, "uh no, sorry. I'm not really into that."

And then I'd get this look, like "well, now what are we supposed to talk about?!?"

I think last year I gave it a bit of a shot, but I couldn't handle Sanjaya (sp?)One word. CREEPY. so I didn't try again. And I'm totally up for watching the tryouts, (who isn't?) but I think I've managed to only catch 5 or 10 minutes here and there over the past few years. To be honest, a month ago, I couldn't even tell you what night of the week it was on.

So like a month ago. I thought I'd give it a shot. I'd at least record it, then sometime during the next day or days I could fast forward through all those commercials, and then I wouldn't be (quite) the social outcast. And so yeah, it didn't take too long to get hooked. I'm not really gonna go into what I thought, and all that jazz, I liked both the Davids. I thought they were both cute and deserved to win. I won't be disparaging any of the other contestants (I've totally learned my lesson with the whole Clay Aiken/Spamalot thing. I kept the comments on that blog post from the rabid fan because it was funny to me, but changed all my settings so that my blog won't pop up on random google searches anymore.) However, some fans are just raving lunatics psycho crazy overly enthusiastic.

So tonight, at like 7:30 I realized the finals were on, but hadn't watched last night's show. So I asked the kids if they were interested (heck yeah!) and offered to let them just watch tonight's or last night's first. We watched last night's together. Then tonight's. Even though I skipped through the commercials, I still let the kids stay up til ten to see the results, and this is literally what happened.

"And the winner is..."

And that's it. That's where the recording stopped! AAAAARRRGGGHHH! It's seriously ten o'clock at night, and the three of us (me, Nick and Maddie) are totally freaking out, because the recording stopped!

"Call someone!" they screamed at me!
"Who?!?! It's ten o'clock at night!"

Thank heavens for the internet. someone might have gotten a frantic phone call late at night because I wouldn't have been able to sleep.

gradge-uh-lation day

My baby graduated from kindergarten today. I guess he's not my baby technically, I got another kid to go, but he was my baby for so long it's hard to let that go. It's silly, but there were moments, I felt those dreaded tears coming on.

Zach has spent the last year at Gilbert Elementary, which isn't our home school, and we loved every minute of it. He had the best teacher, and he grew so much this last year. I'm sad to leave it behind us. I love kindergarten graduations. Well, there's a love/hate thing anyway. I'm excited to see who they will be, but sad to watch them leave the little kid behind.
Zachary with his teacher, Mrs. Berry. She's the cutest. We love her. I'm considering sending Christopher to Gilbert. I got a couple years to think about that.

Update: Zach's graduation ceremony was yesterday morning, and the kids had the option to go home with their parents. They also have the option to go to school today even though it's pretty much over. Zach chose to come home with me yesterday, but go back today to see his friends and say good bye to his teacher. He woke up this morning with a bad fever. Totally burning up, I'm waiting to see if the crackers stay down before I give him some Tylenol. Poor kid, he's pretty upset about it. Good thing we go got the report card yesterday, as he's way too sick to go today. So Mrs. Berry if you happen to read this, Zach wants to say good-bye and he'll miss you.

I love this face

This morning while getting Zach ready for school, I was washing the breakfast off his face, and I made some comment (as the jelly was coming off) that there was the face I liked.

"you like my face?"

"yes! very much. I love your face."

"you should put that on your blog."

"yes I should."

Oh and PS- I love these faces too.

Pancake Day

I'm not sure exactly when the tradition started, but Saturday is now Pancake day around here. John being the morning person, while I am so not, started making breakfast for the kids on Saturdays. Generally pancakes, but it's not rare to get french toast, eggs, bacon, or sausage as well. I think what finally cemented it as a full blown family tradition, was when one Saturday, we decided we were much too busy, and cold cereal would be good enough, and Zach totally upset, exclaimed, "But we HAVE to! It's Saturday! It's Pancake Day!" and thus it became official. Of course I don't get off the hook if John is out of town, but Saturday seems to be the one day he is in town, so that's not too often. (oh and please don't look at the mess that is my family room, thanks.)

Chick- Fil-A

This is totally free advertising for them, but we have enjoyed going to chick-fil-a on Thursday nights, well, not EVERY Thursday night, but when the homework is done, and I don't mind braving the crowds. It's family night there, and they really do it up right. Free kids meals with every adult combo, free balloons, free ice-cream, that the kids get to serve themselves, crafts, etc. Every week is a new theme. St. Patricks -the ice cream was green, Easter- pictures with the Easter bunny, Spring- there was this whole flower theme going on.
This is Madison after getting her own ice-cream. They gave the kids clear cups with "dirt" (crushed up oreos) and "worms" (gummy) and they got to add their own ice cream. This next picture shows what happens when the older kids leave their ice-cream unattended while they run off to other activities. and yeah, the white stuff on the floor is ice-cream Christopher spilled.Zach with his balloon sword. This week it was flowers for the girls, swords for the boys. Other times the clown-balloon-twister-girl who is always there takes orders. She makes a cute monkey in a tree.These are the two potted plants I came home with. They are still alive and well a month later amazingly enough. (that's practically a record)

Freedom!

alternate title- Carpe Diem!
alternate title -Sprechen sie Deutsche?
alternate title- I'm so excited I could pee my pants.
Lousy shot I know, but I am pretty excited about this little book here. This little baby just came in the mail yesterday and I couldn't be more thrilled. One of my biggest dreams is to travel and see the world, and this little thing helps make that more of a reality. A couple of years ago, my SIL got really upset with me because the two of us had a chance to travel, (Free plane tickets thanks to her father) and she wanted to go to Costa Rica where she served a mission. But a) I didn't have a passport, and b) I was pregnant, so it didn't seem like the best idea anyway. She chewed us out and said that every adult (and kids too, probably) needed one.

But to me, a passport seemed kindof like a closet full of skinny clothes that you can't fit into, but keep buying because some day you might. (don't ask how many of those I have) - you know, wishful thinking but most likely a jinx anyway. But an opportunity just presented itself that we couldn't pass up on, and I get to go with John to Germany in June because he has to take a training class, and it's the only one available in the time frame he's expected to get a certain certification. So since most of the expenses will be paid for, we seized the opportunity. We also seized the opportunity to make a layover in London and another in Paris.

I might scare myself silly at times with all this traveling John happens to do, but there are times when it has it's perks.

Most of the time

John can be gone a lot. Sometimes it seems like most of the time, but he's been known to stay in town for weeks at a time. And although I miss him, this is just something that comes with the job. We knew what we signed up for. Somedays are harder than others, but for the most part, I manage. I suppose some day he may decide he's sick of it all and get a job here in town, going to the same office every day, seeing the same people, working on the same computers, and dealing with the same issues every day. He's not too keen on this at the moment, and past experience tells me that I'd rather have him happy with his job then always in town but miserable.

So most of the time I am okay with all the traveling. It can be stressful, and tiresome. But Nick is getting older, and I can leave him in charge if I need to in the evenings. Most of the time, I just plug along as best as I can. People would comment that they would freak out if their husbands were out of town, they wouldn't be able to sleep, and I admit that once upon a time this was more true than not. Many nights I slept with my biggest kitchen knife next to my bed. Most nights now, I stay up later than usual, because nobody is expecting me to come to bed soon, and laying in bed awake, being painfully aware of how alone I am is more than I want to deal with many nights. So I stay up late. I catch up on my shows on the DVR, I read, I've been known to make caramels, or mop, or surf the Internet. When my head finally hits the pillow, it's only moments before I am totally unconscious, and I generally sleep like a rock because nobody is there to bother me.

So last night I stayed up late reading in the family room, and finally decide it's time for me to make my way to bed. I am doing the last minute checks of the house, making sure lights are off, doors are locked, etc. I notice that the ceiling fan in the family room is off. Christopher can reach the bottom of the light switches, and periodically turns off the fans, which is not going to be so good for our AC bill this summer. I turn the fan on, turn the lights off, check a couple of things, then make my way to the entryway where the stairs leading to my bedroom are. And then I hear it. I stop dead in my tracks in the dark entryway. All the lights are off, the kids are in bed, the house is totally dark and quiet except for this noise. There is a faint rustling noise coming from the family room. I had just spent the last two hours in there, alone, reading, and I hadn't noticed that noise before. But there it is again. Panic and terror totally grip me. I stand there for a few moments in the darkness totally paralyzed with fear, listening. Praying that maybe it's one of my kids who had a bad dream, or wet the bed, or needs a drink. But it doesn't sound like that. In my mind someone is in my house, and what's worse they seemed to have been waiting for me to leave. They were watching, waiting. The noise stops for a moment, then there it is again. A rustling sound. So I do what any sane person in my position would do, and I grab one of the little things decorating my entryway table to defend myself, and turn on the hall light to see better. After announcing myself with that light, I edge my way into the kitchen to see into the family room, heart trying to leap out of my chest, frantically clutching my table decor, and with a relief so profound I want to cry, I see the Mother's day banner rustling in the breeze created by the ceiling fan I just turned on.

So after that, I curled up in bed, read until past one in the morning, so there would be no chance of consciousness after my eyes were finally allowed to close. I'm tired this morning, but the good news is John will be home tonight, until he has to take off to Vegas for some convention next week. Most of the time I think I deal pretty well with all the traveling, but some of the time, every once in awhile, I don't deal so well.

Stephenie Meyer

Last night I got the opportunity to go and meet Stephenie Meyer. I was pretty excited about the whole thing. It was in a high school gymnasium and I went with my friend Kirsten. Isn't she pretty?


This picture is one of several attempts to do one of those self portrait things. Naturally I hated them all. Too bad I deleted the one where I accidentally zoomed in on Kirsten's nose. That was funny.Here's Kirsten before we got to go into the gymnasium. We were starving because the doors opened at 5:00 and who knew how late we'd be there, so the closest fast food with a drive thru was Taco Bell. Hopefully I can hit the gym today so I can work off those calories before I have to go weigh in tomorrow. Sorry this is such a lousy picture, but since I was so far away the flash didn't work. This is a picture of the question and answer section of the evening. Just in case anyone else was wondering, the next two books to hit the shelves are Breaking Dawn (Twilight #4) and Midnight Sun (#5, but actually #1 from Edward's point of view). Then after that, there is no plan. I've heard rumors she's taking a year off. As a mom I can totally respect that, but I'm still sorry for me. She has a rough plan for a couple more "Host" books, but nothing concrete. Also IF (no plans yet) they were to make a movie of "The Host" and IF she had a say in who they cast (she doesn't) she'd pick Matt Damon as Jared, and James MacAvoy as Ian. I generally need a face to put with the names. In my head they are too cartoony. And I am perfectly happy to envision Matt as Jared. The signing itself went really fast. It helps that we were letter B. But she was very nice and just whipped right through the books. I think you'd have to be to get through 1000 fans' books (in my case I had 4) and get home before 3 in the morning. Even though she couldn't pose for pictures I managed to snap some good ones while standing in lineIt was fun. I'm glad I went. I'd do it again, even though I had to pay full list for it plus 5 for the ticket, when everywhere else it is 40% off. But seriously, the unexpected part of reading these books, other than getting to feel like a teenager again, is finding a really good friend in Kirsten. Besides having the same name, which you can imagine isn't so common, after lending her my books to read we totally bonded.(I lent a lot of people those books, most people weren't willing to shell out the bucks for the books until after they read them, then wanted their own copies- but I can't blame them, my friend Mindy bought me the books so that she could have someone to talk to about them, way back when.) We went to get some gelato one night to talk about the books and totally bonded. In some ways (in many other things besides the books) I think we must have been separated at birth.

Mother's day

So is it wrong to say that I love mother's day? I'm not one to generally get too jazzed about a whole day celebrating me, I even went so far as to give Madison my birthday, so I don't even have one of those anymore. I am 24 forever.

However, I do love mother's day. But it's the little things. Really. I think I will cry when the kids are too old to make homemade presents and any cards I get say "Hallmark" or "American Greetings" on the back. Here's some of the little highlights that made my day.

- Zach bringing up in conversation every day for the past two weeks, the fact that I am going to LOVE the present he made for me, and I would beg and beg him to tell me, but he did a really good job keeping it a secret.

-The kids waking me up at 6:00 this morning because they couldn't wait a minute longer. Believe it or not, this was a highlight as their excitement was infectious. Ideally if I had any say, (which, I don't) I'd sleep in til like 10 or so, be really super lazy, but I didn't really have a choice and since church is at 8:00 sleeping in on Sunday isn't really an option anyway.

- Finding a homemade card hidden in Zach's underwear drawer a couple weeks ago. (It totally cracks me up that he thought that was a good hiding place.)

- Madison's Happy Mother's Day banner she made.

-Cinnamon rolls and eggs waiting for me when I came down to breakfast.

- Tickets to see Les Mis in London from "Christopher"

- And I really really loved the presents they made at school. I got a cute flowerpot from Zach that he decorated with bugs and it says "Thanks for helping me grow" and it has one of those pens turned into a daisy, and a picture of him. Both he and Madison had one of those "fill in the blank" things that they filled in about me.They were a little different, but the idea was the same. They both had a line which read, "My mom is ____years old." they both got that right. My favorite part of Madison's is when she said that I weigh 48 pounds. How did she know? And Zach said I was "as pretty as a star". Isn't that seriously the sweetest thing? Madison had another card she worked on at school, as well as other pictures she made for me, and Nick wrote me a really sweet poem. He also made me a scarf that I wore to church today. I got compliments.

-John being the thoughtful guy that he is flew my mom down with some of his frequent flyer miles (he's been racking them up lately) just for the weekend. Then he kicked us out the door to do some shopping while he cleaned and did laundry and took care of the kids. It was nice to spend some time together, and mother's day isn't such a big deal where she's from, so it was a treat for her. Since my mom reads this blog, out of respect for my mother on this day, I wouldn't post a picture of her because she generally hates them all, but since I seem to be scanning anything that will hold still long enough, I found one she probably won't object to. It's one of my favorites.


-But always, always, on mother's day, I am renewed with the desire to both appreciate my own mother more, but also to be the person I see in the eyes of the ones I love the most. To be "The best mommy in the whole world" as one of my cards so eloquently put. I'm not fishing here, but I always wonder if they look at me through rose colored glasses, but I like the way I look in those glasses, and I want to be that person they see, and today at least, I am trying.