Prized-Fighter

My little Baloanie is a little stinker sometimes. Usually around the hours of 9-11pm. This is the time of day when she realizes that, yet another, day of her life has passed. She gets REALLY upset.

I remember Holynd being a stinker sometimes. She usually just had an upset tummy. Her tummy aches used to freak me out because of her cyst she had when she was born. I was convinced her stomach was going to aggravate it. That never happened. More often then not, I would end up covered in a puke shower and she would calm down.

Sloane, however, is smart. She doesn't want to go to sleep for the night. She wants to move and wiggle and FIGHT SLEEP UNTIL THE DEATH! Whenever we find something that works to put her to sleep, i.e. walking her up-and-down the hallway in her bouncey chair, she figures it out, and then plans a defense for the next night.

She's so smart, in fact, that she plays the "perfect baby" roll all day long. She smiles and coos and takes long peaceful naps in the middle of Matt and I's bed... all stretched out and enjoying the dark-coolness of her mom and dad's room.

I always find myself thinking, "Oh, she's going to be fine tonight. She's been so good all day long."

Then, she pulls out the big guns.

Some babies just want you to stay awake with them and interact with them all night long... Not Sloanie. She really doesn't want anything to do with you, or anyone else, or sleep. She just wants to scream. Yep, that's it. Whether you are holding her or bouncing her, she prefers to scream.

It gets frustrating.

The other night, I was here alone when she started to cry "the-never-ending-cry". I wasn't ready for her to start yet and so I, also, started to cry.

Then I prayed.

Then a little thought filled my mind...

"You'll miss this."

So, every night when my little baby starts to scream... I try to tell myself, one day I'll wish that she was still a little baby, screaming and fighting sleep.

But, sometimes I still wish she'd just go to sleep. :)

Need a Sitcom Episode?

Hello blog world! I'm hear to tell you that I'm still alive. Frustrated and overwhelmed, but alive.

Before I begin this over dramatic-overview on my day-to-day life, I'd like to have a moment of silence for high chair #1.

We bought high chair #1 on KSL.com for 10 bucks. No joke. I didn't expect Holynd to love baby food as much as she did, so I didn't expect to need a high chair until she was walking. Seriously. So, being completely unprepared and completely broke from paying tuition, I turned to KSL for help. I found this extremely clean, extremely cheap high chair online. (I really don't think the seller's ever had a child sit in the thing.) Matt drove out to get it and this high chair was SO FAR OUT WEST we could've bought a brand spankin' new high chair for what we paid in gas to get the used one. Nonetheless, I fell in love with this second hand high chair. I fell in love with it because Holynd TRASHED IT. She beat the crap out of the thing. By the end of it's life, the padded cover was in pieces, the reclining back no longer worked and the buckle straps smelled worse then morning breath. I didn't care, we paid 10 bucks and got a good story out of it.

Since times are much better and we only have to pay tuition for one student, I splurged on high chair #2. I wanted one that folded down really tiny, so that I can put it away if I need to. I still didn't want to break the bank on a high chair, especially after watching high chair #1 die such a slow miserable death. I know you're probably thinking, "Why do you let her feed herself if she's so messy?". She doesn't let us feed her. She wants to do it herself!

I wish you the best of luck high chair #2. I hope you survive long enough to have Sloanie sit in you.

******

I had a moment today where I just started to laugh out loud to myself. My household was so chaotic, I stopped and thought, "If someone could actually see what was going on right now, they'd write an episode for a sitcom based on it!".

Let me set the scene for you. Sloane screams non-stop when someone is not holding her. My angel baby has taken a liking to being held AT ALL TIMES. (Can you say: SPOILED ROTTEN?). I had to let Sloane scream while I made Holynd lunch today. She's laying on the couch screaming while I'm trying to make Holynd a grilled cheese.

Meanwhile, Holynd is bouncing around the kitchen, in nothing but her diaper, yelling, "HUNKY! HUNKY! NUMMY, NUMMY, NUUUMMMMMMMYYYY!"

I get Holynd her grilled cheese and some apple sauce and sit down on the couch to try and calm Sloane. After about two minutes, Holynd starts flinging apple sauce all over the kitchen. I take Sloane into the kitchen to try and get Holynd to stop, but by the time I get the apple sauce away from Holynd, Sloane and I are covered.

I have to lay Sloane down in order to clean up the kitchen and Holynd, she immediately starts screaming. While I'm rinsing Holynd off, I feel something trickling down my legs. I look down and apparently sometime during the apple sauce shower, Sloane had pooped all over my front. I sit Holynd down and run over to the couch... Yep the couch is covered.

Next thing I know, I'm running through the house holding Sloane out in front of me yelling, "Oh, what to do?! What to do!?".

I wrap Sloane in a towel while she's still fully clothed, so I can clean myself off.

CRASH!

I stop dead in my tracks and think, "Please let there be a scream..."

Holynd starts screaming.

She's pulled my decorative table over on to herself.

Great.

Sloane is now screaming bloody murder. Holynd is screaming, "OWIE! OWIE! OOOWWWWWIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!".

Then, someone somewhere has the nerve to pick this exact moment to knock on the door.

I think to myself, "It's the police." Someone has heard all the commotion and they've called the police.

I'm still covered in poop and both girls are screaming.

I decide to ignore the door. I know without a doubt this person can hear my girls screaming, but I know there's no way I can explain this situation to anyone!

I carry Holynd into my room and shove a binkie in her mouth. I start cleaning off Sloane.

There's no fixing Sloane without a bath. I carry little naked Sloane into the bathroom and start the bath. She decides to finish the job and pees on me.

Holynd is still moderately upset, so I go back in the bedroom and carry Holynd (while still holding Sloane) into her room and put her down for a nap.

I bath Sloane and get her dressed.

I lay Sloane down and finally get to change my clothes... I really want a shower, but there's no use even hoping for that.

The Lord must've been watching over me because when I went back into my room, Sloane had fallen asleep...

I get to shower!

I get out of the shower and realize... I forgot about the couch!

Lost and Found

The 24th of July was a busy day for us. We went marathon grocery shopping, had a barbecue at Matt's mom and dad's and ended up at Matt's brother's house for smores and fireworks.

While we were waiting for dark, we noticed that the bugs had started biting. Not wanting my children to end up with West Nile, I started spraying them down with bug spray. I didn't know what to do with Sloane, so I figured if I put on enough bug spray myself and held her, she would be protected.

I remember thinking, "That bug spray made my wedding ring all sticky. I HATE STICKY!". I had to tell myself several different times to NOT TAKE OFF MY RING.

The night went on. Holynd got over her fear of fireworks and Matt and I found out that bedtime IS very important. Little girls that stay out until 11pm DO NOT want to go to church the next day.

That night, after fighting tooth-and-nail to get Holynd and Sloane to sleep, I went in to get ready for bed. While washing my face, I noticed that my wedding ring wasn't on. I remembered having it on that day, but figured I must've slipped it off somewhere in the house. I remember thinking how awful it would be if I lost it outside. Too tired to look for it, we went to bed.

The week went on and the ring never turned up. By Saturday, I was pretty upset and told Matt I still hadn't seen it. We spent the next couple of days slowly tearing the house apart looking for it.

No luck.

Matt finally decided to start looking at Brandon and Angela's. He called Brandon to make sure Brandon hadn't mowed his lawn and asked him to hold off. Matt went over a couple of different times and COULD NOT find it. I started to panic. I was heartbroken. I didn't want to have to shop for a new ring. I wanted MY RING. I love my ring. Matt picked it out himself and I wanted no other ring.

After listening to me cry several different times, Matt did something I never thought he'd have to do during our marriage. He called a "prospector" with a metal detector.

I'm not joking.

Apparently, there are people that specialize in "finding things".

Enter: Gene the Prospector. (STILL NOT JOKING!)

Gene came out to Brandon and Angela's with two metal detectors. One for himself and one for Matt.

After 45 minutes of looking, they had found many nails and one wedding ring. :)

My ring is home now. Safe and sound.

Matt says he's buying a safe. (To keep the ring safe from me, not from a burglar.)

I'm very lucky to have a husband who goes through such trouble to keep me happy.

If you ever lose any jewelry outside, we know a prospector that charges $10 per hour to find stuff. ;)

(A special thanks to Brandon and Angela for NOT mowing their lawn and a very special thanks to Gene the Prospector.)

I Heart Pictures.

My babies are beautiful...

Wally's Artwork

Holynd loves to color. She likes to have her artwork displayed on the fridge for all to see. The other day she decided to just color on the fridge. I tried to get mad at her, but was unsuccessful. I don't even want to clean it off the fridge. It makes me smile every time I go into the kitchen.



This is Sloane. She likes to sleep, eat and poop. She's starting to stay awake more and more everyday. Hopefully she'll give us a smile soon!


This was Holynd's response to "Smile for a picture!". Check out those thighs!


You may have read about Holynd's ever-increasing vocabulary on a previous post. Her new word is "Wally". It's her word for "Holynd". Sometimes she refers to herself correctly using "I" or "Me", but mostly she refers to herself in third-person using "Wally". For instance, when she's doing something wrong she says, "No, no Wally" or when she's playing with her doll she calls herself, "Mommy-Wally". We've kinda just started calling her Wally. :)

My favorite Wally phrases:

"Baby Some Kind" - translation: "Baby Sloane is crying".

"Ice Hunky" - translation: "I'm hungry".

"Kay Que" - translation: "Thank you".

:)