Saturday, January 29, 2011

Vaccination Station

{Something is wrong with my camera, hazy photos. I need to reset it, but I'm too dumb to know how and too lazy to read instruction manuals. Tyler! Help me!}

I'm signing my family up for therapy.

After enduring vaccinations for all three girls yesterday (at their well check-ups), I'm certain they have trust violation issues that are embedding forever in their Freudian lobes, ones that could potentially crop up in the form of weird relationship behaviors and daddy complexes in their forties, all traceable back to this day when Mommy said,

"Who wants ice-cream?!! We have our doctor's appointment and you are going to get a sticker and ice cream!"

Translation: you are going to be stripped down to your panties, pinned to a cold pleather upholstered table with a thin sheet of crinkly paper, and poked with needles by strangers as you scream in terror, all while your own mother stands by as a guilty accomplice to the crime while gently insisting "It only pinches a little!"

How can this possibly turn out well?

It was so sad. I really had to resist the urge to cry. So glad that's over with...

{until the next doctor's appointment, when I lie and re-convince them it is a safe place to go, only to have their trust re-violated as the cycle repeats}

Yes, therapy indeed.

I actually love well-check ups. And this time was particularly cute (up until the shots at the very end). I had three little girls in their undie-pants, and oh boy are they darling. Lily and London sitting next to each other on the table as the doctor listened to their heart-beats and checked their ears. Ellie in her diaper, chewing on her fists. London in her signature Princess Belle chonies with her belly overlapping. Lily breathing in and out upon command, taking the doctor's instructions very. seriously.

I'm always sorta waiting for the doctor to congratulate me.

Is that weird?

Am I the only parent who is just beaming with pride at a well checkup? Just look at these fine specimen, I think. Aren't you impressed? Come on doc, I won't tell anyone....just admit it...these are by far your cutest patients ever. Between you and me, I saw the receptionist bulletin board holding the 900 Christmas card photos of all of the other you've never seen anything like this huh?...

Even when she informed me that Ellie's little birth mark on her chest is commonly referred to as the "third nipple" mark, I was ecstatic.

"Awesome! Did you hear that, Ellie belly boo? Isn't dat dust da cutest thing i ever did hear, goochie goochie goo!!! You are just the pwettiest baby in the world, yes you are. yes you are!"...

Perfection: redefined to include third nipples.

It doesn't matter: head circumference, weight/height ratios, growth charts. Whatever your kid falls into, you simply couldn't imagine it any other way. The little physicalities that signify this little person. Smiling from ear to ear, I can't help it. That's my kid.

When you're this in love
(and slightly delusional),

that's when you know you're really a parent.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Of the many reasons...

We'll be sharing something fabulous. Eewy gooey chewy melty chocolately cookieish icecream filled whip creamed topped perfection. Bite by bite, little by little, it starts to get frantic. Moderately competitive. Edging the spoon first around the outer perimeter of the brownie, until one goes for the kill. Center cut. Side-swoop. Shoulders hunch in as our faces get closer and closer to the dish. Scoop, savor, swallow. Scoop, forget savoring, swallow. Scoop swallow. Scwallow (face is now close enough to desired, delectable target as to eliminate the divide between a "scoop" and a "swallow", it just turns into one fluid motion : hence the term Scwallow). Scwallow scwallow scwallow.

Our silverware inevitably intersects in the mayhem...clank clank...

We pause momentarily. Sit up straight, pull back, and politely napkin pat the cocoa drizzle dripping down our chins. We glance side to side around the restaurant, which up until this point had become a murky blur.

"I feel like you're getting more than me."

"What?!! With those ladle-fulls you're taking? Who are you feeding...godzilla?"

"Oh yeah, what about you - trying to set a Guinness world record for fastest spoon rotation from plate to mouth...?"

But the the twist to this scenario is that this conversation only occurs in the middle of consumption. We reconvene the battle of the bulge (pun intended) and as we near the end, he always sets his spoon down just prior to that last fantastical bite. He never says anything either. Just pretends he's done. Just like that. Competition over. He lets me win.

Every time.


Last night, he hopped over to Bloom to re-read my guest post, and scrolled through the comments section. I glanced over to see him smiling as he read. He did his signature fast hand-rubby thing, looked up at me mischievously and accused, "You feel cool, don't you?"

"Well,... maybe just a little...shut up. You like me."

"Yeah, I do. A lot."


He passed his P.E. a few weeks ago
(Professional Engineering Exams).
Worked tirelessly for his M.B.A.
His achievements are quite...ahem... substantial.

And yet he is so proud of a silly blog post.

And always saves that last bite for me.

So many big reasons.

And yet...

the little ones


Congratulations, my love.

You are my dream boy.

Always have been.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Never talk to Lily about kissing a wall.

So yeah, Lily overheard me telling the whole wall kissing quote (if you didn't read my latest post, not my fault... please sit yourself down and catch up. Thank you.).

At Grandma's house on Sunday, I was reiterating the darling story to my Aunt who happened to be in town.

And Lily noticed.

I found her hunched in a corner back in the office room, head buried in her hands....crying.

I. felt. awful.

My girl was embarrassed. So embarrassed.

Her face was red as the tears trickled down her little cheeks.

Don't you remember that as a kid?!

The time your own mother threw you under the bus...

openly sharing your most appalling secrets...

such as the time when I was 14...

and in front of a handful of way-more-popular-cheerleader-pretty-everything i'm not because i was home-schooled from 5th thru 8th grade and lacked all knowledge of fashion and social etiquette- sporting braces three times larger than the actual size of my teeth,

she mentioned:

"Oh! Rachel LOVES Doctor Quinn Medicine Woman. She never misses an episode!"


I tried to apologize to Lily. Sincerely. I felt terrible.

Her response?

(cue dramatic five year-old emotion, lots of hand snapping and head waving and stomping off):

"No! I'm so friggin done with you!"

What?!!! I'm so "friggin" done with you? Friggin?!!! FRIGGIN?!!!

However, I didn't feel the time was appropriate to reprimand the use of slang.

{Note to self: stop using the word friggin. It only serves as another obvious reminder that you are indeed an unfit parent.}

On the drive home, I begged and pleaded and {fake} cried. All to no avail. As Tyler and the girls unloaded in the garage, in a last ditch effort I even went as far as to stoically inform Lily that I would stay put in the car and not move into the house until she forgave me. I would sit there. {fake} crying.

Her response:

"Go ahead."

It took another thirty minutes until she finally cuddled up to me and accepted my apology {but I didn't stay in the car}.

So, no more embarrassing stories about Lily. Out loud, that is.

I can write them though.

Until she can read.

And then I'll have no more material for this blog, and Rae's corner will officially shut down.

So {friggin} sad.

{Moral of the story:It is wrong to embarrass your children. Especially when, as clearly evident in this photo, they are severely lacking in security and self-confidence}

Check it out!

I was asked to guest post at Bloom(click here) today.

Hop on over and take a look!


Thursday, January 20, 2011

Girls will be girls.

Lily: "Mom, I'm pretending to get married."

Mom: "Ooo la la!...and who are you pretending to marry?"

"The wall."

"The wall?"

"Yep, cuz that's just what I've been kissing."


Two days ago, I was hurriedly zipping my cart through the supermarket.

We were back near the meat department.

And I noticed

London had wandered off slightly,


and whirling

and singing

{out loud}

happily along side the chuck roasts and ground beef

I could tell

by the lyrics

"there goes the baker with his tray like always....

the same old bread and loaves to selllll...."

she was thinking she was Belle

from Beauty and the Beast

strolling through her "poor provincial town."


Just another day



wall smooching

provincial town

la la land


Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Party Time

Special Thanks to Pop & Gamma for letting us vandalize Hansen Ranch...and Auntie Rissa and Beau for being the best cowgirl & horse west o' the mississippi....

YYYYYYYeeeeeeeeeeeeee Haaaaaaaaaaaaw!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011


It's a funny thing....

that the very people who make your house a real home....

are also the ones who destroy it.....

{Just made those beds}

It's remarkable that even after you've served a complete lunch and they swear up and down they've eaten to their fullest satisfaction, the moment you sit down to eat at the counter....

they climb up and scurry over in instant starvation, begging for a bite...

even if all I'm eating are their leftovers because I'm too tired to make my own meal....

It's a tragically bizarre phenomenon, this child-rearing business....
what drives you absolutely crazy is what you're someday sure to miss the most.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

1/11/11 = 5 !

Did you notice that?

Today is a VERY special day. The day my firstborn came into the world.

Today she turns FIVE.


{What has happened to my life?}

And it is especially magical because not only is today's date comprised of "1's", but if you add up those '1's" :


it adds up to FIVE. Neato! I think it only appropriate that the calendar aligned itself properly with the celebration of Lily Tyler's transition into big kid territory.

And I'm going to stay strong and resist the fetal position sob-fest that arises any time I think about what a big girl she is. Today we picked out her cake at Isabel's bakery for her party Saturday. London, Ellie and I shopped for a gift while she went out to lunch with Gamma. I ignored my usual aversion to all things electronic and got her a LeapFrog and corresponding game. Lils is obsessed with Daddy's iphone and all its apps, so I figure I needed a good preemptive strike before she really makes a habit of browsing Netflix and watching Hannah Montana movies constantly on his phone. Call me crazy, call me old fashioned, but usually I prefer that my children learn their letters from actual books, and how to color with actual crayons instead of clicking an interactive computer screen. Oh well. I made a purchase for the lesser of the two evils I suppose. Lily will unwrap it tonight at when we have pizza with fam.

She deserves it. She is such a good girl.

Oh my heart. Would you look at this child?

My Lily girl.

Today as I was in the bathroom curling her hair, I exclaimed with a smile/pout,

"I can't believe my Lily is FIVE!!"

She replied,

"Aw Mom, I will still gib (give) you hugs. I love you very much."

Melt me now.


We love love love love
love love love love
love love love
love love

Mom, Dad, London & Ellie

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Rub a dub dub






Two favorite things in the whole wide world:

1. Bathing with my babies.

2. Saturday night Dairy Queen our pajamas.

"May I take your order?"
Wife: "Yes, I would like a small Reeses peanut butter cup blizzard with two scoops of cocoa fudge, half an extra scoop of Heath bar pieces - added to the bottom of the cup before stirring in any icecream, and after that only lightly blended in order to preserve the larger chunks of peanut butter."

"Dairy Queen hates. you."

{Awesome robe}


Saturday, January 1, 2011

a WHOLE new year.

I'm pleased to announce, in accordance with last year's resolution, that I have stopped hating January!!
Oh good glory it is a wonderful time...I don't know what my problem was for all of those years! Maybe it took becoming a mother of three, but I was more than happy this time around to box away the Christmas decorations, stop baking, stop wrapping, stop spending, and get back to the good ol' schedule with resolutions to put some pep in my step.
I kicked it off by cleaning out my closet today. Good glory again!

Years and years of crap CRAP CRAP!!! GONE!! GOOOOOD GLORY GOOOONE!!!
Bagged away, boxed up, and shipped off to goodwill (although I really think a case could be made for changing Goodwill to Badwill. Unloading years of of impulsive, thoughtless purchases - cheap materials, ill fitting denims, trashy shoes, trend-attempting accessories - hardly seems 'charitable'.).
And yet I STILL have a full closet.

This will be my year of self, a whole self.

So, I broke my resolutions down into three basic categories. Hold on to your bootstraps, because these are very, vvvvvery original.

You ready?
To hear them?
My super duper original categories?
Okay okay




Wow. Oh wow. So original, right?

Leave it to me to think outside of the box. Holllaaaaaa!


For my Mind, I intend to:

2. Read the Constitution (more in depth this time, I have read it).

3. Speak more of ideas, and less of people (i.e. gossip) and things. Is it just me, or are you starved for good conversation sometimes too? Honestly, the other day my sister made a comment about the issue of gay marriage and I literally followed her like a curious puppy into the bathroom to continue the discussion. It wasn't a debate, or an argument...but an exchange of ideas and questions and thoughts. I came home that evening and realized I'm starved of that with other people. Particularly fellow women. I don't always need to have conversations about sale prices or child rearing or hair styles or marriage. Surface level is safe, and I get that. It gets dangerous to expose your thoughts and questions. You worry you won't express yourself articulately or ask the 'proper' questions, or that people will somehow think differently of you for wondering about certain topics.
But sometimes, just sometimes, I need more. And I don't think I need to declare a minor in philosophy and spend my time solely on a university campus to get it (where a different danger abounds: nauseating elitism and obnoxious students attempting to use big words to impress the professor. I prefer blatant ignorance over hearing the words "flagitious" and "diaphonous" any day. Oh pleasssse, I think.... for the love of all things holy, shut uup.).


For my body, I intend to:

1. Follow bits and pieces of advice from my latest obsession with food books and documentaries.

We have already made some changes in our household in the past year. As you might already know, I am a food lover. Major food lover. Fresh food lover. Real food lover. Cooking lover. But I'm also a lover of health. Nothing reminds me of that more than being pregnant, when I feel chronically awful for a good chunk of time. I love feeling good inside. And I despise not feeling good. Have you ever had the flu, and promised yourself you'd never take it for granted again when you once again feel good? I have.

We have made the switch to a local organic company that delivers our produce to our doorstep and WE LOVE IT...only $20 a week for a case full of produce that I select.

Food, simply put, is the best way to feel good or bad.
I think that's fascinating.

I plan on nourishing myself and my family this year. Nourishing them well, so their bodies can in turn enjoy life. Screw 'losing ten pounds' as my resolution. I'm confident if I nourish myself properly, I shouldn't have to worry about that. Hopefully.

2. I'm going hiking. YES!! HIKING! Laugh it up sibs (my siblings) and Tyler...this little domesticated so-called diva is going to complete 5 hikes from this book:
and I plan on taking my children with me! (on some of them)


For my Spirit, I intend to:

1. Pray daily. One good, hearty, mindful prayer.

I know being Mormon should already take care of that, right?
Yes, we pray over meals in our home. We pray before bed as a family. We pray before church meetings and school years and new years and on and on.
But I admit at once that the most needed prayer of my day often gets missed. The one with just me. In privacy, when I can really pour out my questions and desires and fears and gratitude. All of it. And then sit silently for a few minutes. I don't know why it is so hard to get that one in daily. It seems any time I do get a chance to say a good prayer I feel so much better. It is cleansing and powerful, and I need it.

Oh yes, and I'll end with one of the major things I'll be requesting help with during those prayers:

2. That I'll stop yelling at my kids.

Trust me, heroine addicts are going to have an easier weaning year than me when it comes to this one. It is my drug of choice. I yell.

And I hate that I yell!!!! This is the year of the yell. No more yelling, {except in life threatening situations: such as when Lily purposefully dumped an entire liter of orange soda all over the kitchen floor. Trust me, her life was in danger}.


Here's to a New Year!! Wish me luck!

Happy New Year folks!