Reincarnated??

I love my kid. Well, KIDS... BUT I have to offer the BIG DISCLAIMER up front. I love Brooklyn. And that is why Starling got an early Christmas gift yesterday.

The day started off normal enough. I got woken up to Brighton's fingernails trying to pull off my eyelids. I was in the middle of a KILLER dream that I was SOOO going to write into a movie as soon as I finished dreaming it, so I hurriedly stuck Brighton on my boob and squished my eyes shut to fall back asleep. And the dream KEPT being awesome... right up until the time I opened my eyes and forgot EVERYTHING. UGH. I'll NEVER be a famous writer! UNLESS I can get someone to put me under hypnosis and I can give a play by play of my crazy dreams on tape. BUT they probably only make sense when I'm unconscious, anyway. Maybe NOT remembering is my brain's coping mechanism to nicely keep me from being HIGHLY disappointed with my unconscious creativity.

Anyway- I was laying awake... half-way.. when Brooklyn, who wasn't supposed to be at my house, climbed into my bed and tackled me. She'd stayed the night with her Mia and Pi Paw. Starling and I got to take a REAL DATE NIGHT! We ate Chinese and I wore HIGH hills, we went shopping CHILDLESS, we had alone time, we spent almost the whole time taking pictures of each other being irrevocably re-DONK-ulous, trying to one up each other with our new cell phones. We went GUN shopping... yeh. Really. We FINALLY get ALONE time and Starling takes me GUN shopping. He's lucky he didn't let me handle a LOADED gun.

I got up, and after finding my contacts, was able to SEE my cute little family. I didn't even SHOWER, just got dressed and rode into town with my mom and kiddos. We did the little family lunch at The Bottling Company. Since my Dad and Uncles and cousins have put so much work into it, I'll give it a little PLUG- YUMMAY FOOD!! I had the BOCO burger which I HIGHLY recommend! (I loaded it down with mayo and I recommend that, too). AND the brownie and ice cream dessert is finger lickin SMACK-TASTIC!

Okay- now that I'm HUNGRY- I'll MOVE ON. So after Brooklyn gave me an overview of EACH guitar (and I think there are at least 6 or 7), the color, the size, the location, the location in relation to the OTHER guitars... AND a NOT so brief description of everything ELSE she saw, we left stuffed like a Thanksgiving Turkey. We headed on over to the BCH and Company. (The Old Roses/ New Hudson's place). My mom said they had some killer cute jacket thingies. WELL RIGHT next door to that is Pet Palace. I let Brooklyn look at the animals every time we are on that side of town. She loves to pet the "Bunnie Pigs" (guinnie pigs), the rabbits, look-and-run from the snakes, watch the birds... And so it was no big deal to let her run take a look before we went shopping.

Brooklyn skipped along passed all the fish to where all the real animals are located. (Real= HOLDABLE and FLUFFY). She poked her head up to the rabbit cage.

NOW, if you haven't read my previous blog about the demise of our little bunny Cleo... basically- we got her, loved her, random cat attacked her when I let her play outside for a minute, and she later died from internal bleeding. It was AWFUL terrible and I said NO more BUNNIES because "I" (not BROOKLYN) sobbed for like 24 hours after watching that bunny's last twitchings before she died.

We've been back to Pet Palace MANY times since Cleo passed on and Brooklyn always holds the bunnies and says, "Yeah... Cleo went to live with Hebenly FA-THER and He made her feel better." And she NEVER wants one of the bunnies. (WHICH is GOOD because they are usually those Velveteen rabbits that like to kick and I'm PRETTY sure they cross breed those things with DONKEYS).

I looked into the rabbit thing, too, and saw the most ADORABLE little bunny EVER, and said, "AWE! That little bunny is SOOO CUTE!!" And Brooklyn's eyes landed on it at the SAME time. "OH!! MOMMY!! CLEO is BACK!! OH CLEO!! MOMMY give me CLEO!!" I scooped up the little bunny that IS the same breed (Loppy)as Cleo, but not really the same coloring, and let Brooklyn hold it. "Umm... this isn't Cleo, honey..." I started, but Brooklyn wasn't listening. "Oh CLEO! I'm so glad we got you back! You went to see Hebenly FA-THER! And He made you ALL BETTER!" And she was hugging it up to her FACE and she was KISSING it... "Mommy! I'm so happy! And Cleo can come home with me and live in our laundry room again!" And then she looked up at me with ALL the joy a little TWO year old can have after finding her long, lost friend, "Mommy! Did Jesus make Cleo All BETTER!?" It wasn't really a question. BUT WHAT was I supposed to SAY!??

"Err... Uh..." I paused. I racked my brain with explanations. I could explain how LOTS of bunnies LOOK like Cleo but actually AREN'T Cleo... its called a BREED of bunny. I could tell her how Cleo DIED and DEAD things can't come back to LIFE. I could point out that THIS rabbit isn't GRAY like CLEO and really looks NOTHING like her deceased rabbit...

I opened my mouth to explain....."Yep. He SURE DID! I'll get a box."

I asked the worker dude if Cleo was a girl or a boy. A girl, he told me. Phew. Good. I wasn't sure how I would explain how Cleo went to live with Jesus and came back a BOY. SOOO when I got home I got to face STARLING. I told him... "I got you an early Christmas PRESENT!! Here. Open it." And I handed him the box. He opened it. His eyes closed and he sort of gulped air like a fish that's been chunked on the boat floor with no water. He looked at me like he MIGHT ask WHY the heck I got ANOTHER rabbit when I JUST told him I could NEVER live through another animal death. I silently told him through telepathic ways that I would NEVER let this one outside. It would live happily ever after in our laundry room. But that wasn't good enough. I could tell he was going to argue with me so I just laid it all out for him. "Brooklyn thinks its HER rabbit!" And it was all good in the hood.

See. Starling loves Brooklyn, too. And she has us wrapped. And I don't think we could EVER tell her NO if she was truly sincere about wanting something. (I don't mean the 2 year old tantrum- I want a sucker- want. We actually ENJOY telling her NO when she's being a terd. I'm talking about the doe eyes. The grin that stretches from one dimple to the other. The little bounce of excitement that makes her little curls twirl around her giddy face. The little hands clasped together as she begs so angelically... strategic, "PUH-LEEEEEZE!!"). Therefore I have banned myself from taking her ANYWHERE where she may encounter attachments. I may be nabbing monkeys from zoo's or something. Kidnapping cute little boys she's befriended at Chic Filet. Seriously. I'd do crazy things for my child. For example, Kaylee Humphreys and her little brothers stayed with us for a few days. Brooklyn LOOOVED them staying here. When Brooklyn woke up and they were gone she said, "BUT MOMMY! I want my KAYLEE BA-ACK!!" And I had to physically restrain myself from driving her to Kaylee's house. AND you know what Starling and my conversation for the NEXT three DAYS was???

"SOoOo what do you think about Foster Caring a teenager and some play mates for Brooklyn??" Like- we are DILUSIONALLY obsessed with making our child happy. We have a bunny living in our LAUNDRY room for BROOKLYN's SAKE!! And do not EVEN get me started on BRIGHTON. If Brooklyn has us wrapped, I don't want to begin to THINK of Brighton's charisma... Starling is going to have our back yard dug into a giant FORT with trap doors and paint ball targets everywhere. And probably a tennis court in the front yard. And I'm going to be yanking my hair out saying, "BUT- BUT..." And Brighton is going to be grinning and his little eyes are going to be disappearing behind his humongously fat cheeks, and my heart is going to melt... "OKAY, Brighton... If it makes you happy...." AHHH!! That is EXACTLY why kids stop being cute when they turn sassy. So parents have no problem telling them NO. So I just need to keep it together for a LITTLE bit longer...

In the MEAN time... Santa better stay away from my kids. I don't want him asking them ANYTHING! We're liable to end up with an INDOOR PONY!!

Round SEVEN- Chic Filet Camp-Out

Chic Filet- Baton Rouge
I received a text from my friend Autumn before the roosters had time to yawn OR open their eyes LET ALONE CROW. “Where ya’ll AT??” Well.. I WAS sleeping, which I flipped over, covered my head with a pillow, and KEPT on doing. Then STARLING started receiving texts from Eric, “They’re on number 85… you better hurry!!” UGH… he’s such a liar. Eric, Steph, and Les had stayed the night TUESDAY so that they could get to the Chic Filet Opening first thing Wednesday morning for the 1st 100 competition. WE (Starling and I) had no intention of leaving Hattiesburg until after lunch on WEDNESDAY. (WHICH would have been JUST FINE). But then Autumn told me they were on number 50. I actually believed HER. I rounded up the troops.
We called our friend Justin who thought we were leaving that AFTERNOON (as we had PLANNED). He didn’t answer so I left him a creative voicemail. Then Starling called and left a fun voicemail. Then we were having so much fun with this that we just kept taking turns calling except Justin finally answered and spoiled our fun. We loaded up the car with the essentials… bedding… jackets, drivers license… picked up Justin and headed out. Brooklyn couldn’t WAIT to get to Chic Filet. We only stopped twice. ONCE on the side of the road so Brooklyn could pee in the grass and later for gas. We got to Chic Filet around 11:30. Remember how Autumn told me at SUNRISE that they were on number 50? WELL- I received my number. Number 49. GEEZ. LIES… Brooklyn was bouncing around like a ping pong ball ecstatic to be at Chic Filet and to meet up with her cousin, Alayna. They looked like the ending of a movie. Two characters that have searched the duration of the movie for each other finally meet up… the JOY, the bouncing, the hugging, the giggling… Alayna lives less than two minutes away from our house. Apparently that isn’t close enough for Brooklyn.
The temp was PERFECTLY HOT. Luckily I’d dressed the kiddos in shorts. I was in JEANS and was so hot I considered just cutting them into shorts.

We all met THE COW.

We set up our tent and unloaded our car. HMMM… in the PACKING process we’d managed to leave one of our duffle bags. THE ONE with half of our sleeping geer and the jackets. AT NOON- that didn’t seem too consequential. At SEVEN, when tents were flapping around like wind chimes and the temp dropped to TEN degrees, it suddenly seemed INCREDIBLY CONSEQUENTIAL. I searched through the diaper bag and found two pair of pink sweat pants. Brooklyn’s. SOOO Brighton and Brooklyn geared up in pink pants. ALL of our jackets were in the bag, that LATER, we found RIGHT where we left it… at the BACK door. SO we wrapped the kiddos in blankets.

Before the cold hit in, we played several competitive games, did some intense dancing, and ate a LOT of Chic Filet. FREE.

Brookyn FELL sleep on Starling's HEAD. Ha ha

Brighton even got to join in the fun. They asked for the youngest person to sit in the free space for human bingo. Brooklyn did it first but DID NOT want to do the second game. So she rode on her daddy's head and Brighton JOYFULLY took her spot as the center of attention.

I won a water bottle for winning human bingo.

Stephanie won a hat and a water bottle. Aaron won a t-shirt for threading three pastas on a spaghetti only using his mouth. Stacey won a mystery gift which turned out to be AMAZING. A CHIC FILET CD of how they came to be. WITH a bag of Popcorn. She was perturbed about THAT BUT STARLING was happy because she gave it to him. Starling lost a Chic Filet chair in the scavenger hunt race BECAUSE he tried to UNTIE his knotted up SHOES instead of TAKING off his shoe and SHOWING his shoelace. There were only 3 people left in the race at that point and he would’ve won it if he would’ve just LISTENED to his WIFE yelling, “YOUR SHOE! YOUR SHOE!! HOLD UP YOUR SHOE!” But it was okay. He won a chair at the last Chic Filet Opening. Stacey and I won the DANCE OFF competition. A PLUSH COW. (To add to my collection of 126 OTHER plush cows that we use as dog toys). Stacey and I were SHOCKED that Aaron didn't win a cow because I'm pretty sure I've never seen ANY man (or living creature) bust a move like HIM. We also won red balls and other stuff. I don’t know what all Starling won. Between Stacey and Brandi and me, we were chasing after five kids. Alayna got picked up by her Aunt Melanie and Kohen was a perfect angel attached to Stephi the whole time. It was awesome fun.

Sleeping was the only mild hump… we had one SKINNY sleep mat and one FAT SHORT one. And two BODY sleeping bags made for hiker people. (Even though it’s been forever since Starling hiked the Appalachian Trail, he STILL thinks he has to buy hiker stuff). Needless to SAY, the body sleeping bags are meant to suction to ONE body. SO Starling's body a lot bigger than when he was a STICK BUG hiking the trail... BUT I STILL made him fit Brooklyn in there with him. Starling tried to protest until he looked at me. I was trying to fit Brighton in my even TINIER sleeping bag WHILE laying on a mat that was MEANT for BROOKLYN. I spent the entire night wrangling Brighton back INTO the bag with me. Every SINGLE time I'd nod off, he'd scoot out the top to SPREAD and I'd touch his arms and FLIP! They were ICE CUBES. (Not that he minded). AND I was FREEZING because Brighton + me= TOO FAT to zip up the sleeping bag. Maybe next time we'll double check before leaving half our night gear. And then of course the WIND. I finally stuffed Brighton deep enough that he couldn't move and defrosted him enough from sticking his little chubby arms on my STOMACH that MY teeth had stopped chattering. I IMMEDIATELY had to stick MY arms out of the bag to hold the tent UP. The wind was blowing SO furociously that even though we were a foot or more away from the wall of the tent, the tent was TOUCHING my FACE.

Stacey and Brandy were sleeping on a twin air mattress with Jayden AND eventually Taelyn. Hudson was the ONLY confortable sleeper who slept soundlessly in his pack-n-play until morning. We were all in one tent. Its a pretty big tent. I decided at that moment that my family could definitely live in that tent if we had to. (Assuming we had our other duffle bag of sleeping gear).

I woke up probably at three a.m. and thought that we should be hearing the lovely cow bell that rings at 5:45 to get us up and lined up. But it never sounded. I kept trying to sleep but it was pointless. When 6a.m. FINALLY decided to SHOW up at Chic Filet, we were ALL already awake just cuddled up in our blankets trying not to DIE from exposure. It wasn't sooo bad in the tent. OUTSIDE the tent was brutal. The wind was making the tents dance and me SHIVER. Starling bundled Brooklyn up in his sleeping bag and I bundled Brighton up in MY sleeping bag and we CARRIED them like that.

(THAT wasn't HARD). Brighton only weighs 20+ pounds NAKED. Lets stuff him into a pile of fluff and make him about three feet more ROUND. And lets NOt change his diaper yet because its so cold. THAT alone probably added 6 pounds to him. His PEE is HEAVY. Somehow I didn't drop him before we made it inside.

Pots and pans banged and everyone cheered. It was better than graduation. Like I'd know since I graduated early from High School and Oak Grove wouldn't let me WALK because of it... and then I just had my College Diploma mailed to me. SO, for me, ANYTHING is more exciting that graduating. I dumped Brooklyn OUT of her sleeping bag once we were inside so that she could eat. I piled the sleeping bag in the corner of my booth and stuck Brighton, still tightly wrapped and sleeping, on top of that. The Chic Filet workers, numbering three workers to ONE guest, brought me my food, drinks, condiments, and asked if they could "refresh my beverage" in consecutive five minute intervals. Finally, after eating the DELICIOUS chicken wrap and AMAZING whole grain oatmeal topped with dried fruit and nuts and brown sugar, and downing my orange juice, we were ready to depart. BUT not without ONE last picture. SOME people had already left, but the part of our group remaining huddled up. I made EVERYONE come to ME because I didn't want to disturb my sleeping Brighton. And as I EXPLAINED this, I patted the sleeping bag were Brighton should have been.

AND that is when I had a "Mr. Smead" (off Peter Pan) moment. If you recall Mr. Smead lathering up Captain Hook's face for a shave, which was actually the buttocks of a white bird, and then, turning back and finding NO HEAD. (The bird had flown away). He exclaims, "OH! I've never shaved him this close before..." And he proceeds to look for Captain Hook's head.

Well I patted the sleeping bag and there was a sleeping bag. But when I looked down I couldn't find a Brighton. I started digging around and having a panic attack because Brighton was NOWHERE in the pile of fluff and puff! I didn't realize I'd made a fuss until I looked over and saw half the Chic Filet staff staring at me with their mouths gaped open that I couldn't find my INFANT that can't WALK. nor CRAWL. One dude pulled the table out and THERE was Brighton. Still asleep. Still wrapped in HIS sleeping bag. Under Starling's seat. I guess he moved and just SLID on down. Craziness. I'll add that to my list of Proud Parental Moments. (That list is getting rather LENGTHY).

We drove home and climbed into our bed around noon. I didn't wake up until almost 5, and only to get showered and ready to go to Jessie's Essential Oil's Class, that I SWORE I would NOT get involved in. I tried to tell myself, "You can NOT like this product because you can NOT afford this product." WELL, one class later, and I had Starling over to Jessie's trying to get HIM sold so I can spend a couple hundred Stocking up on Essential Oils. AND, for the record, they are quite medicinally sound. Brighton started running a fever (I wonder WHY) and Jessie gave me some diluted peppermint for him. I rubbed it on his feet and head. Fever evaperated AND he smelled WONDERFUL. Brooklyn started coughing last night and was all congested... rubbed that pepperment on her feet and under her nose... cleared her up. And I got stuffy and stuck that under my nose and am breathing air like a freshener.

Dear Blog,

I have to write since it’s been like half an eternity since I last blogged. I have GREAT news. Our master bath has a painted closet (SOOOO the twenty piles of STUFF that were stacked- and later, on account of our DEAREST Brooklyn, strewn- all over our house are FOR the MOST part, BACK in the closet). SECOND- John the 2nd has joined us in the bathroom and sits bold and proud as all ceramic thrones do. He likes sitting in the upright position in the master bath instead of upside down and disgracefully exposed in Brighton’s room. (Although- I liked him in Brighton’s room awaiting his new position better than when he sat on our front porch greeting all of our visitors). Like I said. GREAT things happening in the Johnson home.

The master bath is ALSO painted, but not trimmed out… (okay- I AM the trimmer sooo I can’t complain about that part… BUT Starling is the ceiling artist that is going to blend the skip trial (that CAN’t be how that is spelled…) from where we moved walls for the remodel SO I can’t do MY part until he finishes HIS part and I blend the PAINT on the ceiling. So I can totally blame the hold up on HIM. As for the HALLWAY- Starling has RE-MUDDED like a CUZILLION random spots that I never knew were problematic. (I do NOW because the once unnoticeable imperfections painted the same color green as the REST of the hall, are NOW HUGE WHITE glaring UNFINISHED, and quite frankly distasteful to the EYE, BEACONS). So I’m REALLY happy that Starling hasn’t been able to wrap up work early this week and PAINT them. Oh! Why don’t “I” just do it MYSELF? GLADLY. I’ll just duct tape Brooklyn to the LIVING room WALL while I attempt rolling the HALLWAY. AND, assuming Brighton doesn’t need to eat for 6 hours, THAT plan will work perfectly. EXCEPT for one thing... MY INABILITY to ROLL paint. Starling has BANNED me from doing it. (Believe it or not he's a perfectionist when it comes to his walls- hence the dang constant WHITE spots appearing all over our house that I have to KEEP covering up. And then HE has to RE-cover-up because my painting sucks more than a vaccuum).

OMY. SPEAKING of BRIGHTON and EATING. (That was a couple of sentences back before I went off into left field, IF you've gotten confused and lost in my rambling). His appetite has INCREASED. I know I shouldn’t be surprised… he’s over 20 pounds now… but I’m the COW. The GREAT PRODUCER of CREAM and BUTTER. And NOW… AFTER Brighton is done nursing, and I mean done like he can’t suck another drop out of either fritter, he wants MORE. So- okay- this is new to me… tonight he was OBVIOUSLY getting frustrated that his dinner was done before HE was. I was TOO because usually he eats and there’s plenty left for him to snack on later. BUT anyway- he was STILL hungry. (Honestly I feel like I offer him a dang all you can eat buffet and he leaves saying- that’s it? I’m still not full). Insanity is what it is. I opened up a jar of babyfood. Sweet peas. (More on the mush and goop than sweet or peas but WHATEVER). He ate half of the jar and didn’t want more of that. BUT he wanted more of SOMETHING. So I fed him an ENTIRE jar of applesauce. I suppose he would've continued eating THAT until he burst, so I just told him he was done. THEN he got a nice little bath, we had family time (Mommy mandated) in the "night-night", and then he FLOPPED about like a snow penguin until he’d maneuvered his way BACK to my boob and he nursed to sleep. And SLEEP?? The boy is like a dang bear going into hibernation. He SLEEPS forEVER. OR until I wake him up… which I usually end up doing. And when he DOES wake up, he forgets to YELL for me and so I don’t know HOW long he just chills waiting for me to realize he’s come out of his cave.

NOW BROOKLYN. SLEEP? Ya-NOT so much. If I go to bed at midnight, SHE goes to bed at midnight. If I wake up at 5 in the morning, SHE wakes up at FIVE in the morning. It’s like she has little sensors that go off if I wake up. I’m seriously SHOCKED I don’t find her at the bathroom door when I go pee in the middle of the night. ALTHOUGH I DID this morning.

She’s very needy right now. I figure it’s to be expected with all the projects we’ve been doing. (WHICH is why I haven’t been blogging). AS I type and take yet another THIRTY minute BREAK prolonging this dang BLOG from being COMPLETE, she is asking, and I mean 10 times in a row, “Can you come and play house with me please, Mom?” And I’m off to do that AGAIN. How can I resist her SWEET side?

Okay… Starling is now reading to Brooklyn in Spanish. So I made my get away. That sounds so harsh- like I'm trying to get away from my child. Like I don't LOVE and CHERISH all 24 hours and seven minutes I am BLESSED to spend with her EVERY day of my ENTIRE LIFE. TRUST ME. I'm not trying to get away from her. I do NOT value my BLOGGING over Brooklyn wacking "MY" babydoll's head with HER baby doll's hand and sending HER baby to time out. Over. And OVER again. I really don't. But- for historical purposes and family memory preservation, the BLOG must go ON.

I LOVE when Brooklyn tries to talk Spanish with her high pitched little lisp. She’s the cutest thing… except when she’s NOT being cute and being a little turkey. BUT she’s MOSTLY cute.

We’ve been unpleasantly SHOCKED at her this week with her saying things like, “PLEASE leave me ALO-O-NG.” (Not alone. Along). “PUH-LEEEZE go AWAY.” But in the next instant she’s all butterflies and kisses. I’m kind of seeing what life must be like through STARLING’s eyes living with ME. WHICH is utterly depressing.

FOR THE RECORD- I haven’t had a single BREAKDOWN ever since I started popping pills like balloons after a fiesta. Three magnesium, three fish oils, an iron, and a prenatal. EVERY DAY. (Its probably working because I spend so much time CALCULATING and counting when and WHAT pill to take- I have no TIME to go berzerk). I still have an occasional mood swing which occurs in direct relation to the whininess of my CHILD (not children- Brighton hasn’t gotten to the whiney stage yet) and/or the hour my husband returns home from work and WHAT pass time he THEN chooses. Like- if he CHOOSES to clean the kitchen… NO mood swing. If he starts looking at guns on the internet… MOOD SWING. But those are completely justified and have nothing to do with my raging hormones, THOUGH STARLING likes to BLAME my hormones for EVERY harsh word I ever throw at him. Dried sunflower seeds stuck to the bottom of plastic cups can NOT illicit RAGE. Nor can dirty socks, random shorts/shirts, dirty dishes, etc draped or dropped over my furniture in a room I just finished cleaning. ONLY my HORMONES are capable of making me angry. Period.

That being said, I better take my meds with me on our adventure tomorrow. Starling insists that the pills I’m taking cannot POSSIBLY do what I THINK they are doing. OKAY- well that is a WHOPPING FABULOUS sugar-pill affect and I’m just going to KEEP on BELIEVING as LOOOONG as I can. BECAUSE I tried to believe in a lot of OTHER pills that did NOTHING. UNLESS you count the cuzillion SIDE effects, in which case- they did a LOT to WORSEN me. We’re off to the CHIC FILET opening in Baton Rouge tomorrow. Another family camping trip. Another 104 value meals IF we are the first 100, which we PLAN to be…. Assuming I didn’t blab to SOOO many people that they fill up the parking lot before WE get there. And I should be able to actually wear make-up. Getting ready is now a two day process and I mean that quite literally. TODAY I showered and WASHED my hair. Usually that’s as far as I get. BUT- I went all out and DRIED my hair with a BLOW DRYER… instead of the fan drying it while its scrunched under my head on a pillow get yanked and tangled by Brooklyn’s fingers. I even had great dreams of actually applying MAKE-UP… but THAT didn’t happen. So. TOMORROW I’ll put on make-up and my hair will only have to be brushed. THAT I can manage in ONE DAY. Hopefully.

I need to go to the gym but its 10:30 and I could carry luggage in the bags under my eyes. Sooo I think I’ll have to go TOMORROW or just SKIP until we get home Thursday. My poor brain thinks it’s been transplanted into some nutsy productive person’s body lately and its having a very difficult time functioning at such a high pace. No naps. No breaks. Its ready to shut down. Its bogging down like this stupid computer! (which is an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT story for a DIFFERENT day).

Brighton 5- 6 Months

Brighton,
You are SIX days away from being SIX months OLD!! I'm NOT even believing how humongous you are and how quickly you've reached your whopping 19+ pounds! (yeh- i just weighed you naked. 19.2). You are BEYOND perfect. Each little roll is so painstakingly lush and delicious. You have Asian eyes that completely disappear when you grin. (LIKE tiny little RAINBOWS). I guess every Mommy thinks they have the perfect baby, and I'm no exception.

You light up like the SUN at NOON every time I look at you. It makes me feel all special and warm and cozy inside. (Even though you light up when ANYONE looks at you- NOT just me- EVEN when CHARKLEY looks at you. Even when you see a stuffed animal that you THINK is looking at you). You are getting more and more handsome everyday. And you are ALSO getting more and more personality. Even though you are content pretty much always, you still voice your demands. FOR EXAMPLE: You LOVE sitting up. BUT that isn't good enough anymore. You want to GO. So if you see a toy and you can't reach it leaning as far forward as you can go while still sitting on your bum, you scream at the toy giving it ONE last chance to come to you. If it isn't in your hands within that second, you HEAVE yourself forward onto your FACE while moving your legs out from under you and crawl like a SEAL... sort of FLOP your body forward until you GET where you want to be. Its HILARIOUS! Daddy sat you on the bed. I was on the other side of the bed and you saw me. I can ALWAYS tell when your hungry because you start giggling hysterically and hyperventilating. You flopped onto your back, rolled onto your stomach, and started yelling and squealing as you tried to go forward to get to me. We laughed and laughed because you couldn't get any traction. Your feet would slide out from under you and you'd fall on your face and get SOOO agitated. Finally Daddy put his arm behind your feet so you could kick off. And don't worry. You got me back for making you wait to eat. You ferociously grabbed me with BOTH hands and nearly yanked off my milk supplier dragging it into your mouth.

You are SOOOO strong! Daddy can be a worry wart. (Even though that is MOSTLY MY JOB). He has told me probably SEVEN times in the last ten days that he's scared you are going to suffocate because you sleep with a blanket pulled up to your face. I just laughed at him. I told him that you are VERY particular about what goes over your face and you were QUITE capable of removing anything that was unwelcomed. He said, "What about a pillow?" A king size pillow is awfully big and heavy for a five month old... or so one might THINK. BUT- I've watched you sling a pillow off the bed with your arms so I showed your daddy. I threw a king size pillow on your head. You lifted it with your arms above your head and peaked out and giggled. Daddy added more weight to the pillow. You SLUNG it off giggling. I feel like I am raising Bam Bam. Especially when I dress you. I put your boots on yesterday and you lowered your LEG down on MY leg and I seriously thought you cracked my bone. And, like Brooklyn, you lOVE to kick. So... while you are YANKING me around while I'm nursing you, you are Kick Boxing my stomach. So I ALWAYS have sore abs but NOT because I worked them out... they are BRUISED.

You bit my finger today and there are TEETH in that mouth of yours. You bottom teeth have cut through the skin. I'm happy for you... I know you've been in some pain trying to teeth, but I'm not HAPPY about the "situation" one bit. Brooklyn didn't get teeth until almost a year old and that was GOOD for breastfeeding. I don't know how teeth are going to go over with my chest. You already eat like a starved LION coming into contact with raw meat. I just hope your TOP teeth take their sweet time coming in. I may have to FORCE you to drink your milkshakes from a bottle!

You are a total giggle box. I don't care if I'm having a mood swing from DOWN UNDER... when you get to giggling, I can NOT HELP myself. I get so tickled at your little laugh that I end up cackling along with you which ONLY fuels you to laugh harder. At any given time during the day, a fly on the wall might see a wheezing woman doubled over on the floor with tears shooting out her eyes with a two year old giggling like a music box bouncing on the sprawled out woman while a Brighton is swaying in front of them giggling so hard he's falling over. Your Daddy has come home to this comedy act quite a many of times. You are such a light in our home. Brooklyn will be whining and fussing and she'll start her bouncing that proceeds all tantrums. You think it is HIlARIOUS when she bounces. So there I am about to bash my head through the stove top because Brooklyn is TWO and ACTING TWO (and I have the patience of a grenade) and out of the blue- here you go cackling. I can't for the LIFE of me keep a straight face and neither can Brooklyn. You are only 5 months old and you are like the little Peace Maker already.

AND, like eating straight CREAM isn't doing it for you, you chew on EVERYTHING you can get your hands on including your FEET. I can NEVER keep socks on your feet and I'll search and search for the LOST socks. Where do I find them? Under your head. SOAKING wet from DROOL. AND I don't feed you baby food or anything yet... you are totally ready and the doctor TOLD me I can give you food now, but #1 I'm just so dang lazy and... oh. There's really only a #1. So we went to Chic Filet and I'd already nursed you and we were eating. Well... you were getting bored in that high chair and trying to grab at my chicken. So I handed you a big chunk to chew on. You greedily bit down on your treasure and your face contorted up like I'd just given you WAR HEAD Candy. Then you had a little seizure thingy. Your eyes started watering. THEN you stuck that chicken in your mouth and took another go at it. You didn't get any better about liking it... but that never stopped you from gnawing it. You gummed that thing until it was a slobbery pile of goo. And you don't much care for lemonade, either.

You are an angel and I could not have DESIGNED a more perfect baby for our family. I love Love LOOOOVE you!! I hope you stay this happy forEVER!! I'll do my darn-dest to keep from screwing up in the parenting department. (But I really can't make any promises. HOPE you are RESILIENT!!) Here are some pics of you and your lovely sista taken this week.

Dear Blog,

Sorry I haven't written in like- FOREVER. I'll give you a quick rundown of my last 2 weeks. Starting October 24 through today: Monday: I took Tu Tu Cute pictures of my niece Madison and Brooklyn (for which I'm making a canvas that is going to be SUPER cute... aSSUMING I ever make it).

Tuesday: I babysat and took the kiddos IN the WAGON to the library for Trick or Treating at the Library. (OAK GROVE should SERIOUSLY invest in some dang SIDEWALKS. I am STILL picking STICKERS out of my FEET from sludging through random BRIAR patches that block my SHOULD be clear path from my house to the library. AND we have super nice people in our town that stopped and asked if I broke down and needed a ride. Awesome! I ALWAYS have my little red wagon handy when I break down).

Wednesday: I made Chili for the Chili Cook off. (Yes. It was incredible. Incredibly out of about six cans. AND then I tried to make it look home-made by placing it in a crock pot and adding onions and some spices. It worked okay... There were no left overs. I didn't even try it to see how it turned out. When we got home from our Fall Festival I asked Starling if he'd tried it. "Uhh...no..." I think he sort of felt bad, but I reassured him it was fine. "I steered clear of it, too, honey. I ate out of the WINNING CHILI crock pots"). I babysat two of my favorite kiddos, Colton and Boston. We made cupcakes (ALSO for the Fall Festival). I bought gummy worms to stick on top of Green icing with crumbled oreos. (Ya know... worms crawling out of dirt?) ANYWAY- Colton wanted to know if he was going to get to eat a worm or WHAT. I told them they could each have one and the rest had to go on the cup cakes. Colton started eating his. Brooklyn chomped down on hers. BOSTON was holding his but looking AWFULLY uncertain about biting into it. "What's wrong, Buddy?" I asked him. "Ummm... will it bite me?" I noticed then he was staring at the gummy worm's mouth. I laughed. "Do you think it'll bite you?" He shook his head no. "Its NOT real." But he made no effort to bite it. "Will you bite off his head?" He asked me again. I told him I would. I stuck it up to my lip and SCREAMED, "AHHHH!!!!!" Boston, Colton, and Brooklyn all three screamed. I yanked it off my face. "DON'T BITE ME WORM!!" They giggled and laughed. THEN I said, "Colton... YOU bite its head off." Uh uh. He didn't feel so brave about biting into that gummy worm. Brooklyn didn't want to either. So I chased them around for about 30 minutes making that worm bite them. I haven't laughed that hard in a LOOOONG time. THEN, after the boys got picked up, I had to decorate my trunk for Trunk or Treat. Luckily my mom had some Halloween decorations since I waited until the DAY OF to try to come up with some stuff. I made my trunk into a tomb and since it was dark by the time the kids Trunk or Treated... I probably could have just NOT bothered decorating it because I'd used black felt to make the tomb and that's pretty much what my trunk looked like. BLACK FELT. OH WELL- I took candy. THEN of course I had to get DRESSED. I was Spagetti and Starling was a Meatball. Brooklyn was Dorothy and Brighton was a Turtle. (a Turtle costume that was actually made for a dog. BUT- I got creative). We went to the Festival and I didn't see my children until the END because as soon as we got to church my babies were swept away by the older kids. I was busy stuffing chili into my beak (everyone's but mine) so I was glad for the break. I got NO pictures of ME. AGAIN! I always DO that... I take pics of everyone else, go home, get undressed, and say CRAP! I didn't even take a picture of my spagetti outfit! OH WELL. I wasn't redressing up. Thursday: I painted and had a meeting about Missionary Work.

Friday: I went and got my inspection sticker for my Altima. My LOVELY car. FINALLY 100% legal. Sticker. Tag. AND I went to the Post Office to get a money order thingy to send to Jackson so they'd make my license UNsuspended. WELL of course BOTH kids fell asleep RIGHT before I got to the post office. "Can I just LEAVE them in the car while I RUN IN??" I asked myself. NO. I'll probably get arrested. SO? I haul BRIGHTON's car seat out and place it by the post office door. THEN I lift Brooklyn out and haul HER back to the post office. I'm PARKED right in front of the post office- like NOT two miles away or anything. I turned around and TWO people are having a PANIC attack over Brighton. I hear one of the women saying, "--heard about this kind of stuff happening on tv but I can't believe someone would actually just DROP a baby off!" And the other lady, "WELL I'll take him!" And instead of interrupting them and telling them its my kid, I just waltz up with Brooklyn over my shoulder and let them TELL me about how they just CAME out of the post office and THERE he was. When they finish all of their speculating and have worked themselves into a frenzy, I tell them he's mine, LAUGH, and waddle the two sleeping children to the counter. I bought my money order and then, ready to mail it, realized I had to FILL it out. Is there a PEN? NOOOO... Am I about to haul the kids ALL the way back to the car and FIND ONE?? HECK NO! I'm already in a state of physical DOOM, both arms yanked from their sockets and muscularly jello. Some dude is trying to rush past me and I see a pen in his shirt pocket. "OH YOU have a Pen?" I can tell he's about to make up an excuse so I nod to the one in his pocket. "Oh...uh... yeh." So I hurriedly fill out the money order and hand back the pen. He's trying to RUN from me. "WAIT!" I chased him down and RE-GRABBED the pen. "I filled out the customer's copy." I filled out the RIGHT part and gave him back his pen. "WAIT!!!" I grabbed it again. "I have to write the address on the envelope." I DO hope he wasn't in a hurry. THEN I headed towards Chic Filet to meet Starling for lunch. I finish telling Starling how HORRIBLE it is to take children on errands, hang up and some car slams on brakes in front of me. I in turn punch my brakes. I think I'm all good but then I hear the loudest squealing of tires on asphalt and I am SOOO confused. I push my brake down harder but I THINK I'm already stopped. And then... CRASH!!! HOW in the HECK? WHAT? The car in front of me drives off. It took me seriously an entire MINUTE to realize "I" didn't run into a car, but a GINORMOUS truck tail ended me. GREAT!! GREAT!! SUPER DUPeR!! WOW! Talk about FABULOUS timing! I glance at my kids and I absolutely, positively, do NOOOOOOT want to look at my car. NOOOO. Please don't be damaged. Please don't be broken, car. I just got you LEGAL to DRIVE!!! I finally look. Ooooohhhh.... my trunk is CRUNCHED. Like an EGG. My tail light is busted off. I MIGHT would've fallen out in the road and let the passing traffic run me over, BUT there was a distraught young man to tend to. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" And then his mom and dad showed up. They were apologizing ninety to nothing. "Its fine... we're all fine..." "THIS is his FIRST wreck EVER! Never a speeding ticket, nothing!" I assured the mom AGAIN that is was okay. "This is MY first wreck, too," I told her, "That wasn't my FAULT..." Out of... umm... five? Six? Twelve? but who's counting....? I really only count the ones involving OTHER vehicles THAT have a police report to go with them. That's only... um... THREE that count. TWO bump ups I had didn't have any damage- well to THEIR cars- so THEY don't count. And all the OTHER crashes with phone poles, trees, ditches, removed fountain holes, bolders, traffic barrels etc??? Yeah. Those don't count either. I told the dude he's just lucky he's gone FIVE years without an accident. I can't go five minutes. I mean... REALLY. I drove to New Orleans a few weeks ago and ripped off my mirror on a light pole. WHILE staring into the mirror. It SHOWED I was clearing my car. RIGHT before the mirror disappeared from sight with a loud POP. Luckily Starling fixed it.

I didn't have time to cry or anything. I had to get ready to go help at my friends' wedding reception. We, of COURSE, drive to the WRONG Clubhouse. I rush in and some lady runs up to me and asks if I've seen Kelly. "No! That's who I'm looking for!" So I rush around looking for the mom of the bride. And then I notice everyone is drinking and a lot of them are already drunk. What? Mormon people don't drink alcohol and so I was SOOo confused NOT to mention I'd been scurrying around for ten minutes and STILL hadn't seen anyone I knew. I found the lady looking for Kelly. "Umm... what KELLY are you looking for?" She said a DIFFERENT last name than the Kelly I was looking for. CRAP! So then we finally went to the RIGHT place. We left there, picked up the kids from my parents, and got home after midnight.

Saturday: We woke up WAY before my brain could've POSSIBLY been expected to function. We slugged around to do our garage sale. NO ONE that said they were going to SET UP STUFF showed up. AND some crazy lady was harassing me the WHOLE time. AND Starling left ME with my CAR but accidentally took my KEYS. So I was just chilling stuck with a crazy lady that was telling me how SHE was going to RUN the flea market. I was biting my tongue because she didn't KNOW that I'm the one buying the property she THINKS she is going to run. She was just going ON and ON about how SHE was going to tell the GUY (the guy being my HUSBAND) that she was renting this giant building and that he was not going to charge her a lot of rent at FIRST because she needed to be established before she had to pay rent and BLA BLA. FINALLY I couldn't take it anymore. "Are you referring to Mr. Johnson?" "Yeah- my partner has been in touch and we've worked it all out." "Is that right? Well I'm Wendi Johnson. His wife." THEN her story started BACK pedaling. "Well my partner hasn't been able to get him on the phone. But tell him we've got our plans all worked out." When she left, I called Starling. He had a feeling to stop and talk to this lady that does flea markets on his way back to me. AND the crazy lady SHOWED up at THAT place and, having never met Starling, TOLD him that she WORKED there and was RUDE to him. We got the biggest kick out of her. Like HOW many lies can you tell someone in ONE day. Needless to say- the Bargain Bash Kickoff was a DUD. AND we know who we are NOT renting to. But, after I forgave Starling for LEAVING me with that NUT JOB, we met with a very nice lady who we may do some business with. (WHICH, by the way, the crazy lady told us was her ParTner and that- SUrPriSE!- was also a LIE). We ran home from our meeting with her, changed, and went to the church for my friend's Baptism. I spoke on the Holy Ghost. We left straight from there and went to a Fiesta. A real one. One of our Spanish friend's was having his 40th birthday. His wife is white. Okay- it started off normal with her family being there. He opened gag gifts and it was fun. Really fun! But that's because I've only had white girl fun. I didn't have all that much to compare it to. Then all the rest of the Spanish people showed up and all the white people left except us. THEN the REAL party got started. CAN i JUST say... I was SOOOO born into the WRONG culture!! I'm officially a wanna be Latina. The Salsa music was turned up. KIDS were running wild shaking moroccas and dancing. The ADULTS ALL danced! And it was family friendly dancing. Brooklyn was passed from one dancing adult to the next. I have NEVER seen Brooklyn have so much fun. She had a morocca in each hand and she was in the middle of all the dancing. Starling and I jumped in the dance train and I was LOVING IT!! Starling had his guitar and he played all the fun Spanish songs that I know, too, since I live with him. SOOOoooo Awesome! I know what REAL fun is now and I hate to tell ya- white people just don't do it right. And the FOOOOD... omgracious... phenomenal. From now on, Starling is getting a Fiesta birthday. And so our my children. And so am I.

Sunday: We went to church and afterwards we went to Hayden's baptism and then crashed into a nap and probably would have never woken up if I didn't have a 2 year old jumping on my head yelling for chocolate milk. We went on a family walk and went to bed for the night.

Monday: 31st. Halloween... I was so burned out on dressing up that its all I could do to dress Brooklyn. Brighton got to be a chicken since Brooklyn insisted he wear her chicken suit. Starling and I did NOT dress up. We just pulled the little red wagon with the kiddos inside. (MY little red wagon... so its 25 years old and still rolling. Must be a Honda. lol). Anyway- they racked up on candy. And we burned enough calories to feel NO guilt about helping the kids eat their candy.

Tuesday: We met with two potential business partners and discussed the possibility of turning the entire land into Flea Market territory. They have some really cool ideas and the experience to DO it. I'm starting to doubt my capability in running something that big. I mean... I can't even make a garage sale happen properly.

Wednesday: I enjoyed some quality socializing at Craft Day. I made- TU TU's! That's like ALL I do now days. And PAINT. Then Starling and Eric played at the Candy Buy Back. I took the babes up their and we had a BLAST and won LOTS of cool stuff!!

Thursday and Friday: I did nothing but paint. I am so used to looking at unfinished walls that until I started painting the touch up areas, I didn't realize what a LARGE JOB we have ahead of us. Then we went to Russ and Kristen's engagement party and took the kids. We are ALWAYS the only ones that haul our kids everywhere we go. BUT- I really like having my kids around. Most days. And so we'll keep taking them until people stop inviting us because there are five of them. Brooklyn had a ball. She danced in her hot pink tu tu. Like her Daddy. She dances like her daddy. I'm going to have to put her in DANCE just for MY sanity. Brighton danced too, and giggled and laughed. That kid is SOOO happy... and perfect. And I'm STILL obsessed with him five months later. EVERY little roll!

Saturday: Starling was HOME today! FOR like the first time in FOREVER he didn't WORK on a Saturday! It was GLORIOUS!! He worked HERE instead of somewhere else. He sanded the master bath's walls so now we are ready to PAINT!! We went to Lowe's and picked out bathroom paint, new hall paint (we're going LIGHTER), and new paint for Brighton's room. Starling picked a hall color. I picked a hall color. Usually we are super great at compromising BUT neither of us were willing to budge. SOoooOOoo that only left ONE solution. Paper. Rock. Scissors. I won. The hall is going to look GREAT! Then we watched the football game and ate pizza at David's. That was a gREAT game. SO many touchdowns. NOT. BUT we had fun talking.

Sunday: THANK goodness for Daylight Savings Time- since its TODAY and I'm STILL blogging away... But I HAD to catch up!