Ice Cream Please

After returning home hot and sweaty from riding her bike to and from the park about a mile away in 80 degree weather and playing hard in between with friends, Gabriella was excited when I ran to the front door announcing that I heard the ice cream man. She's been waiting for a day warm enough that I would let her buy an ice cream. We rushed to open our front door only to see the ice cream truck just passing our house and not stopping. Gabs was nearly in tears. I told her the truck would be back.

About fifteen minutes later, we heard the exciting music again and ran to the door. This time the truck zipped passed our house again heading a different direction and up to the next street. Why on earth was an ice cream truck going so fast anyway? Gabriella was beside herself.

She quickly ran inside and told me she was going to make a sign so the truck would know to stop. She got out her pink marker and went back outside to work on her sign. She wasn't going to let another ice cream opportunity slip by her again.

I filled my pockets with dimes from my coin jar. We were going to be ready when we saw that blasted truck.

Outside, she drew for a second and yelled to me, "How do you spell, 'Please can we have some ice cream.'" I told her how to spell "please." Then I got up to look at her drawing so I could tell her where to put the next word and saw her sign for the first time. A big old ice cream with the word "PLEASE" written below.

I said her sign was crystal clear and that the ice cream truck would know exactly what she wanted.

So we waited for the truck to return.

Fifteen minutes.

Thirty minutes.

An hour.

Two hours.

And you know what? That darn ice cream truck never came back. I felt so bad for Gabriella. She was so disappointed. Colossal disappointment read over her entire face. She couldn't understand why the ice cream truck wasn't coming back. I wanted so badly for her sign to be recognized. It just broke my heart.

So we went to Coldstone.

Obsessed

The other night we walked down to a local Japanese Sushi restaurant. I don't eat a ton of sushi, but ever since I was pregnant I have been craving it. Since, I obviously didn't eat it while I was pregnant, this was the first chance I have gotten to eat some. It did not disappoint! It was delicious.
I can't stop thinking about it. I literally am obsessed and seem to only think about nightly walks to go get some California rolls. Tonight I was making shrimp stir fry for dinner and couldn't help but call Joe to have him pick up some sushi rolls to accompany it.
I'm willing to hold off eating dinner (which I'm starving for) by 20 minutes in order to get my sushi.
I learned how to make sushi once, but I don't have a recipe. Anyone have a California roll recipe they want to share so I don't have to pay $4.95 every time I get one of these cravings? Because nightly cravings of $4.95 is an expensive habit to get into.

Oh good. There's the garage door. Dinner's here!

Blessings

This last week we went to Arizona to bless Henry. It was a beautiful day. I've been thinking about Henry's blessing and the blessings in my life.

We are told to count our blessings and name them one by one. I'm not very good at doing that. I sometimes think more about the blessings I want and desire rather than the wonderful blessings I have to be grateful for. The reason we count our blessings is not so we can compare them with others and feel bad. But so we can see that the Lord loves us and what He continually blesses us with.

I recognize that I need to count my blessings. It seems to big a task to do it all in one day. So, for record sake (since this is the closest thing to a journal I will ever have) I'm going to start with Henry's blessing and a few of the blessings that day...because, even one day holds too many blessings for me to count.

1. I feel blessed that we were able to be in Arizona for the blessing.

2. I feel blessed that my entire family was there.

3. I feel blessed that Joe's parents drove down from Utah to be there too.

4. I feel blessed Henry slept 8 hours straight the night before.

5. I feel blessed that it wasn't raining.

6. I feel blessed that I was able to look down the pew at my girls, Henry and Joe and know that we are an eternal family.

7. I feel blessed that big old Henry fit into the ity bity blessing outfit that all my parents grandsons were blessed in.

8. I feel blessed that Joe holds the Priesthood and is worthy to give our children blessings.

9. I feel blessed that Henry was awake throughout the entire blessing-like he was paying special attention to the blessings his daddy was giving him.

10. I feel blessed that, as a mom, I can see the things my children have been blessed with becoming a reality.

I really can't even begin to count all the blessings in my life. Or even all the blessings of one special day. But at least I feel blessed to know that I am truly blessed.

Intervention.

Is. Not. Going. Well.
Henry James aka "Milk Gut".
2 months old.

13 pounds 5 ounces. 95 % percentile.

Enjoys social drinking. Especially at 1 and 4 am. Has the biggest, cutest cheeks to show for it.

Dislikes sleeping through the night. Has the biggest, cutest smiles to make you forget he's getting you up. Again.

Has us completely head over heels for him. Especially the ladies of the house.

Verdicts in. We're totally keeping him.

I Became A Mom When...

When I was pregnant with Gabs, I was reading a parenting magazine. There was a question on the last page to mom's about when they first felt like a "mom". There were a dozen or so little paragraphs from mom's answering this question. One answer came from a lady who said her young, toddler daughter woke up in the middle of the night and threw up all over the hallway floor. She said she looked around for her mom to clean up the smelly mess. Quickly she realized though that she was the mom. I smiled when my pregnant self read that and wondered what my "moment" would be like.

I hadn't thought of that experience for a long time. Then today, I was sitting in the waiting room at the girls dentist appointment. I was flipping through a magazine when I saw an article titled The Moment I First Felt "I'm a mom". I skimmed through the highlighted answers from everyday moms and read what they had to say. Some answers were when a mom stopped calling her children her stepchildren, when a mom quit her career, when a mom bought a minivan, when a mom held her baby for the first time, and when a mom knew she was the only person who could make her child feel better.

Now, being a mother of three, I tried to think of my moment. When I felt like I became a "mom". The truth is, there was no moment. There was no moment, because I know I was always meant to be a mom. I know that what I am doing is exactly what I'm suppose to be doing and what was always planned for me to do. There is no career to pursue, or lifestyle to give up. My whole life, up to this point has been my "moment". I'm meant to be a mother.

I stop and look at my children and I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe that I've been trusted with them. I can't believe they are wonderful and perfect and healthy. I can't believe that they're mine.

I can't believe that I am finally a mother.

So, to finish the articles sentence, I became a mom when I was put on this earth. It's my calling. It's the whole reason of my being. It's my divine responsibility. It's God's work. And I am the one who is blessed beyond belief because of it.

Happy Mother's Day moms. You're doing exactly what you should be doing.

Love Handles

It's been said that if you write your goals down, then you are actually confirming your willingness to make those goals come true. With that being said, here are my first 8 steps in my 1,134 step program to losing a few extra pounds around my midsection I so loving call my "Henry Handles".

Step 1: Stop making recipes that call for a pound of butter.

Step 2: Stop eating chocolate while sitting on the couch watching the Biggest Loser.

Step 3: Stop buying the 6 pound bag of Gummy Bears from Costco.

Step 4: Stop eating pasta for dinner 7 nights a week.

Step 5: Stop eating 6 small meals throughout the day instead of 3 large meals, because what I'm really doing is eating 6 large meals.

Step 6: Stop sneaking big glasses of the girls whole vitamin D milk and drink the watery skim milk that's in the refrigerator for me.

Step 7: Stop using the excuse, "I'm eating for two" to justify eating enough for two grown men.

Step 8: Stop packing Reese's Pieces in my diaper bag as my "just in case I get hungry" snack, because who am I trying to kid here, I'm always hungry...

...this is going to be impossible. Anyone have a better idea?