My mother

I never remember my mother ever being shy or not willing to put herself out there. She raised 6 girls and a boy with so much force that we all grew into these highly independent adults. Who will stand up for ourselves regardless of the struggle that lie ahead of us. If you asked my mother how she saw herself, she’d probably tell you that she was shy and reserved. Which whenever she has tried to claim that, we all laugh and say “What?! No, you’re not!” and then we share the following stories to prove our point.

“Mom, when we were young you use to take us to the department store and hold up the biggest bra against our chest laugh and say loud enough for everyone else to hear THIS IS YOUR FURTURE until we turned red in the face.”

“Mom, one time you took us through the drive thru and when you saw that the worker was a guy you proudly announced to him that we were single and looking to mingle.”

“Mom, you once told us about a time when you were in front of all these people at church that your slip fell out of your skirt you just pulled it off and kept talking like it was no big deal.”

Okay so maybe she’s shy but just not shy about making sure she embarrasses us kids.

From all of that I learned from her that life is not to be taken so serious. That really the most important things are not money or fame but the memories you have together. She and my dad would work hard all year long to make sure that in the summer, or on our birthdays or anytime that something excited happened that we celebrated it to the fullest. That we’d take a family vacation every year regardless if they were scraping by finically because they knew that being together and laughing and embarrassing each other would be more important than the new style of shoes, or electronic device that everyone else had.

My mother, she’s the kind of mother who is on the floor playing with her grandkids, who will get dirty making mud pies, who picks up worms and chasing us around the yard. She’s the mother who starts huge food fights in a public parks just to see us laugh. She’s the mother that has taught me that above all else that going outside of your comfort zone will reward you as long as you can laugh at yourself in the process. 

Linking up with Mama Kat

Splash Bash

Every year (well this is the second official year) I host an end of the school year party. We invite all the kids from Wyatt’s class and their siblings and parents. Last year was a s’more party this year we decided to go with a splash bash theme. Of course on the day it was an epic rain storm. It didn’t stop raining once. So a lot of our plans went into the plan b mode. We were going to have a water balloon piñata, a pool, tons of water games etc.

I was grateful to my dad who had the brilliant idea to fill buckets and water guns up with hot water from the washer which made it easier for the kids who wanted to get wet, get wet.

All in all the party was a success.

20/52 weeks

“A portrait of my kids, once a week, every week in 2015”

Cody got me a new lens for Mothers day. Tamron 24-70 mm f/2.8 and I am in love. I of course had to take it out that day and snap these littles playing on our swing set in the backyard. Needless to say Mothers day was over the top for me this year.

How was yours?

I know Gunner really loves me because…

• He’ll leave his toy cars at the bottom of the stairs so I can get in my daily toe stub.
• He’ll dig out the poopy diapers from the garbage to give to the dogs so they can have a nutritious lunch too.
• He’ll consistently draw pretty pictures on my kitchen walls.
• He’ll scream or yell at me while I am on the phone with the insurance people.
• He’ll  hit the dogs with his toys just to see them bark and then laugh hysterically even after I told him not too.
• He’ll ask me to kiss his stuff animals before he goes to bed at night. Then he giggles when I kiss him too.
• He’ll run really fast and give me the biggest hug ever and yell Mummmm when I pick him up at grandmas after work.
• When he demands to sit by me when we are eating dinner so he can share his food with me.
• When he sings along to his lullabies at night.
• When he’ll have a dance party with me in the kitchen when I am cooking dinner.

Linking up with Mama Kat

19/52

Always riding bikes. This time with Dad though.

map of your own bones.

*old instagram photos of me and the boys from a few years ago.

“Sometimes when you pick up your child you can feel the map of your own bones beneath your hands, or smell the scent of your skin in the nape of their neck. This is the most extraordinary thing about motherhood- finding a piece of yourself separate and apart that all the same you could not live with out.” –Jodi Picoult

Happy Mother’s day.

Boys are stupid.

Right now I'm downstairs ignoring Wyatt’s pleas to tell Gunner to just stop hitting him already. I have already broken up too many of their fights today and I am not about to break up another one because if I do I am afraid that steam will literally shoot out of my ears. Or at least my head will blow off. You know nothing good will come of it.

Its been going on for weeks now. Gunner won’t share and he even snatches Wyatt’s toys out of his hands.He hits him all the time and does everything to knock Wyatt to the ground. But don’t think Wyatt’s so innocent either because Wyatt will instigate Gunner by purposely taking and playing with Gunner’s favorite toys that will cause an instant tantrum.

He does this just to hear me get Gunner in trouble. I know this to be a fact because right after I scold Gunner, Wyatt gets this little smirk on his face. its just plain evil.

Parenting boys is starting to become very challenging for me. I am contently saying “No Gunner stop pulling off your brothers glass” “Stop pulling his hair.” “Stop tackling him.” “Give him back  his toy.” “Gunner, Wyatt had that first.” “No, that’s not yours.” “ No you cant have Wyatt’s dinner you have the same thing on your plate.”  “Gunner stop hitting your brother.”

“Wyatt stop parenting  Gunner I am the parent not you.” “Leave your brother alone.” “Wyatt stop instigating him”  “Let him be, he’s fine.”  “Stop tripping your brother.” “No, you can’t keep farting on Gunners head. “because its not nice.” “Don’t call your brother names.” “That’s your brothers.” “Give it back.”

So instead of saying no this time I yelled back up the stairs to Wyatt. “Just hit him back.”  He did.

Then they laughed.

Hard.

Boy’s are stupid.