Late Birth Announcements, Non-Abandoning Friends & Christmas

I have this thing about always wanting pictures to go with what I write about (Seth LOVES this aspect of my personality). And even though my GORGEOUS niece, Jesstine, was born in August, I haven't posted any pictures, because I kept thinking I would be able to take more pictures of her, because the pictures I have don't show her off well enough (and they show TOO much of me). But, alas, I need to share the good news of her August arrival, in November. And if you want to see many more lovely pictures of her, click on "Steve & Lacie" (Jesstine just refers to them as Master Diaper Changer and Mrs. Milk Provider) and you, too, can marvel at her beauty.

In other beauty news, one of my very best friends, April, is not abandoning me forever as previously planned (they moved from here to Beaumont where they lived the last two years and then made plans to move to Houston indefinitely, but plans changed and now they have moved back here--convoluted, I know). If you live in the area, you NEED to get to know her and her amazing family. April will never cease to entertain you, and her devotion and loyalty to family and friends (I consider her in the former category) is beyond description. Just a little anecdote to explain April's character. When Noah was a baby and before she had children (she's giving birth to #3 in December), we asked her and Mark to be our children's Godparents, if anything, God forbid, should happen to us. She started crying from happiness, and then through tears, she said, "I hope you die". I knew then that we had selected the perfect guardians. I'll leave Mark's amazing character and kindness and gentle spirit for another post.

This is Mitzi and I, with April in the middle:

Only April can blow out a candle like this:

Our good friend, Tim, kindly, patiently, graciously and talentedly took our family pictures this year. I haven't chosen THE family Christmas card picture, yet (oh how we are all waiting as we did last Tuesday for this exciting outcome), but I wanted you to see some of my favorite pictures and a few outtakes that will never been seen on a Christmas photo.:

This is my favorite picture EVER taken of the boys:

My mom joined in for the fun and here is one of my favs of her and the boys:

And some non-mantle worthy pics, but I enjoy them nevertheless:

Fun Size Opinions

No one has EVER accused me of overwithholding my opinions, so here go a few more. What in the heck is up with "fun size"? This, my friend, is NOT fun size:

This, my friend, is:

My friend Emily sent me this MOST wonderful post from a parenting blog. This lady is pregnant with her first child and posted about what she plans to do with her maternity leave:

"Despite what my sisters have told me about having a child and the implications that it will have on my personal time, I envisage my four months of maternity leave as just that - a time to turn over a new leaf.
.....as much as I am looking forward to nurturing my newborn baby, I am also looking forward to the downtime "in between her naps" where I plan to do the following:
- Complete my degree
- Master the keyboard (I have purchased a self-teach book in preparation)
- Learn how to play guitar
- Start a herb Garden
- Take up art lessons and do some painting
- Tan and start a home gymming program to restore my body to it's former shape
- Paint my toenails and wax biweekly
- Writing ( I will excite my blog fanbase of 2 people, with an exciting new blog daily)
- Start a photography portfolio "

Although I do not have the heart to respond to this mom-to-be regarding her post (for fear of sharing my guarded opinions), I wanted to relay my thoughts on her sweet post to you. Prior to becoming a mom, I too, secretly found most moms to be, oh, how I shall I say, WHINY. Okay, kids are some work, but if you are not working, you can still keep a mostly immaculate home, cook amazing dinners, take photography classes, plant some extra gardens, work out extra hard, paint your nails a different shade every couple of hours. I mean those little things are just so tiny and I am just so organized (unlike those whiny moms). And if one more person said to me, "Enjoy your sleep now, there's not much with the little one comes" I was planning on replacing their shampoo with Neet.

These are secret thoughts that I did not have the courage (THANK GOD) to say out loud or post on a public forum. Because when my 6 lbs, 12 oz. bundle helped me realize that I was lucky to have time to run a comb through my hair or swig down some Instant Breakfast before he finished his 15 minute nap, after three hours of trying to get him to sleep, I came to honor the mothers who came before me. Now, I truly am not one to spoil a blossoming mommy-to-bes plans (because I am serious about those Neet thoughts) and I am an optimist (thus the belief that I wouldn't be "one of THOSE moms"), but sheesh, being a mom, especially of a newborn is really, really hard (right Lacie? right Lindsay? right Christy?). The difference is that when they arrive, even though it can make you sad that you smell like urine and you have Instant Breakfast on your shirt, you are really too in love with that little guy to mind as much as you might have planned you would under those conditions.

In my much cherished book, I Was a Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids, it contains a quiz that includes a few items I checked, that are my very most treasured:

• You secretly wish you had your own apartment.


• You consider a trip to the dentist you special "alone time".


• You reflexively refer to the bathroom as "the potty"
  
• You find that slowly browsing the aisles at Target, by yourself, is better than therapy.

In other opinions, these are the MOST adorable Tranformer Optimus Prime and Yoda of ALL times (and even though it is sometimes really tiring, I adore and cherish being their mommy and would choose NO other path):

When going through my pumpkin pictures, I was really frustrated that this person's bottom got in the way of my beautiful boys picture, until I realized it was actually the back of a scarecrow. I forgive you scarecrow.

Because what's a good pumpkin patch, without a hearty camel ride:

12 Years, Olympic Cat Dogs, Muffin-making Preschoolers & More

There are SO many reasons, but here are just a few why I am glad that I've been married to Seth for 12 years:

1. He makes me laugh incredibly hard every, single day.
2. He ALWAYS leaves the last peanut butter jelly muffin for me. Always.
3. Although he admits to struggling with keeping balance, his family comes first in his priorities.
4. He is incredibly transparent.
5. He is a genius.
6. He is HOT!
7. After 12 years, I have never been more confident in Seth's love, commitment and adoration of little ol' me.
8. Also, he is the one who first tried to make us show 12 years, the following way (he believes EVERYONE enjoys math the way he does):




Here's how Noah shows his love to his little brother:


Noah learning to ride a "sharp-turn" bike (Noah's term):


My favorite chefs:


The Olympic champions after a heated running race at Grandmom's house--Noah placed two "golden medals" on his "dog" Jazz (the white cat):



Noah "playing" in his first game:


Seth playing in his 5,639th game this last weekend:

Parallel Worlds

After I posted my "Scooby Doo Band-Aid" story, my mother-in-law, Sandra, relayed the following story:

When we moved to Wichita, the boys (five and three) stayed with my parents. Dad told the story of passing the door to their room just in time to catch Seth slap Stephen. Stephen automatically began crying, and my Dad asked Seth why he had hit his brother. When Seth didn't reply, Dad repeated, "Seth, why would you hit your brother? What were you thinking?! Seth reluctantly replied, "I was thinking you wouldn't see me."

Sandra and I often share our joy of our boys and their relationship (albeit, sometimes a violent one). This reminded me of some photos that further my belief that Sandra and I are living in a parallel universe.

This is my world:

This is Sandra's (hopefully obviously noted because of the television OR the '76):

Mine:

Her's:

And so on:

American Idol Concert

Lest you get the idea that I do not know my age (i.e. attending vampire prom), there was a bearded, 80-year-old woman right in front of me, with her equally hairy and elderly American Idol fan friends. Next to them, was the 16-year-old girl who tried standing up the entire time while taking digital pictures (my friends suggested that it was too bad for the digital age or she would have run out of film way before Kristy Lee Cook). So the demographic was varied and interesting at the concert.

And this was my favorite concert ever! Now I do say that after every concert I attend, but really, this was an awesome time. It was like 10 mini-concerts and only two cheesy group numbers (thus the reason it took us so long to attend an AI concert for fear of many Diane Ross medleys with all the contestants hating their life). And David Cook even finished with "Billy Jean". Now if only I can find some time to bop over to the mall, go cruising, have a slumber party...

Seth showing the proper excitement after seeing all of our favorites:

Why, yes, I do have a Scooby Doo band-aid on my eyebrow

This is how it all went down. Yesterday, Noah and Ian were playing "fall off the couch as close as possible to the sharp-edged coffee table". Surprisingly, I put a stop to this game. Then I went around the corner to my room and two minutes later, I heard Noah saying, "I'm sorry, Ian. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Then the anguished cry. Ian was amongst the pillows, wailing and bleeding profusely from his brow. After pressurizing, cleaning, bandaging, then debating whether to go to the doctor for a stitch (I decided against even though that could have been a wonderful addition to this story), I asked Noah what happened (Ian was still wailing) and he said that Ian hit the table. I couldn't help but scold them both for not listening to mommy (I went straight into the this-is-why-we-have-rules-for-your-own-good-young-man talk) and then I asked Noah why he was saying, "I'm sorry." He said he felt bad that Ian hit his head and was hurt.

Forward to this evening. Our friend, Chuck (really, that's his name) stopped by and after noticing the not-so-subtle bandage, questioned Ian about his wound:

Chuck: Ian, what happened to your head?
Ian (quite used to this question after going to school today): I have owie.
Chuck: How did you get it?
Ian: Hit table.
Chuck: Uh oh, you hit the table.
Ian: Noah pushed me.

The Cul-de-Sac Ladies

From left to right: Me, Jen Jen, Beth, Emily, Christy (for whom this gathering occurred), Ida, Shannon, Adi

I owe these ladies so much, not the least being my ability to spell Cul-de-Sac with confidence (the name comes from my college utopian desire for us all to live in the same neighborhood...forever).

Many different addresses, eight husbands and 15 and 3/4 babies later, we are all still friends (Ida was adopted into the TU group, even though I'd sooner not discuss her alma mater).

This group is my foundation. These are the women that I base my friend standard upon. Not just what I look for in other friends, but the kind of friend I hope my standard to be. They are loyal, kind, strong, quirky, intelligent, hysterical, thoughtful, and honest. We have a history of college stories that we always tell in a certain order (Emily's Rob, who was not present during our college years, pointed this out during one of our "hilarious" retellings of the good-ole days). While writing this, I thought of 337 jokes that only seven other women would get, so I have refrained. All that to say, I am immeasurably grateful for these amazing ladies.

This last weekend we celebrated our last second baby of the group (Christy's, not mine, even though I look incredibly pregnant in this picture). We discussed that now the baby showers are slowly petering off, the only reason to get together are funerals (there is sometimes a macabre element to our humor). We are hoping to work in a few multi-family vacations and ladies' destination get-aways before then.