being a grown-up stinks when...

- you realize that getting mail stinks because 90% of it is bills, 9.5% of it is junk, and only .5% is the cool stuff to look forward to.

- the baby barfs or poops everywhere...and you realize that you're the one that's going to have to clean that up. 

- you wake up early to get the laundry done, only to find a rat scurrying around your garage. so you pee your pants (only to add to the laundry pile), scream really loud, wake the children....then have hot flashes all day long as you feel violated by that disgusting creature paroozing in your stuff.

- your free time consists of making phone calls to your city Vector and Critter Control companies.

- you can't find anything this cute in your own size.

{(the left pic is the front view of this swim suit, the right pic is the back view of the swim suit) and can i just add: i cannot wait to see Alice's lil chunky thighs in that swim-suit.... come to me, summer + sunshine!}

- your lawn is overgrown with crabgrass and other noxious weeds and you're the one who has to figure out how to fix it...because it just looks white-trash.

- you open the fridge to see delicious juice-boxes and chocolate milk, but remember your butt and waist-line need trimming down, not beefing up. so you pour yourself a glass of water instead.

- you have to work really, really hard to get up the motivation to exercise...and even once you're done, all you want to do is eat razzleberry pie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner...which would make your hard-earned exercise obsolete. so you just nibble at it instead. which leads to consuming more of the pie than you would have consumed if you would have just served yourself one piece from the beginning. sigh.

- the laundry is this high. and you're the one who has to do it.

- the one thing you want more than anything in this world is to pee in privacy. and you can't because there's a little person who has become your little shadow...even to the toilet.

 {yes, i took a picture of my toilet solely for this post}

- the main thing you're looking forward that day is bed-time. your own bed-time.

- you have to go to the DMV. no further explanation needed.

- you have to make big decisions about work and life. and you wish someone would just tell you what to do because it's hard to make big decisons. like, really hard.

anyone else crave being a toys-r-us kid every once in a while?

p.s. my real purpose in posting right now was to remind all of you how much i looaaatthhheee April Fool's Day. no tricks please. or gags. or giggles at my expense. i am wayyyy too sensitive for that. (i guess this goes along with my post...because i'm pretty sure as a kid i wasn't so uptight and thought April Fool's Day was hilarious...but now i realize i'm just a gullible sap and hate being the butt of everyone's jokes).

phew. so glad i got that reminder out there.

xoxo

moments to cherish.

today Alice and i laid on a blanket outside during Ellie's nap time.
i just talked to her.
i told her about birds.
and barking dogs.
and the trees.
(which are full of blooms. hello spring).

we looked up at the blue sky.
it was bright and sunny.
her eyes got squinty and watery.
she loved grabbing at the blades of grass.

before that, when Alice was napping,
Ellie and i got out her littlest pet shop animals.
and we pretended for an hour that they were our best friends.
then we rode around our street back and forth and back and forth on her trike.
we ate grapes and string cheese while talking about which princess was our favorite.

i love and cherish the moments i get to spend with my little girls...
but especially when i get to do it one-on-one.
because i'm really there.
not split in half- getting one a drink while holding the other...sometimes by her toes to keep her entertained.

hey little girl(s).
you've gone and stole my heart and made it your own.
(thank you jack johnson, for saying it better than i could myself).

p.s. i'm so happy it's general conference this weekend. aren't you? i love me a spiritual feast. a few years ago, M and i started a tradition to make ice cream during general conference. well, i guess you can't really call it a tradition because we haven't done it again since. but i want to do it again this time. what traditions does your family do during conference? i'd love for you to inspire me....since you always do. hug!

xoxo

almost defeated.

 and no, i'm not talking about BYU and Jimmerica.
because we weren't almost defeated.
we were defeated.
in a bad way.
it was sad. i'm still sorta sad.
and M, well, he pretty much wishes he was married to Jimmer so he feels like he's going through a terrible break-up right now. poor guy.
anyway, let's get to the real substance of this post.

my mom and her siblings are very close.
i attribute my understanding of Spanish to the countless hours of my mom jabbering at an impressive rate to one of her 7 siblings on that green phone with the longest chord to ever exist. my poor dad had several near-death heart attacks seeing those long-distance phone bills. this was something they definitely did NOT see eye to eye about.
to one of her sisters, i have often heard my mom ask the following phrase :
"are you winning?"
one day i asked her what the heck that meant.
"winning what?," i asked.
and quite frankly i don't really remember the answer she gave me. i just know that "winning" basically means that you're surviving. that you're going to make it. that the adversary hasn't gotten you down. that in the race of life may be going by really, really fast...but you're keeping up...maybe even one or two steps ahead. that Satan hasn't gotten the best of you.
losing is obviously the opposite of all of those things.
(mom, am i getting this right?)

anyway, the last few days have been hard. really hard. i have definitely NOT been winning.
i've felt like i tripped somewhere and someone was stepping on my face.
and then to add to that, it started raining. hard. and got mud all over the place. ick.

translation: i just haven't been good at my job.
my job of being a mom.
(far too many tears lately. sicknesses. and time outs)
my job of being a homemaker.
(my house is a perpetual mess, i just found a box of brown sugar in my fridge, and two nights ago i saw a rat running through the garage (A RAT! yes, you read that correctly. A RAT! i thought rats only dwelt in nasty places. does that mean my house is nasty???)).
my job of being a wife.
(i can't seem to remember to put the toilet paper roll facing up instead of down, among other things.)

all i want is a little PTO.
(paid time off. vacation. from my jobs. all of them).
who do i call about that?
i remember when i was young i used to think, being a stay-at-home-mom is going to be so easy. i'm going to be so good at it. i can't wait to decorate my house. i can't wait to have my own kids. i'm going to have so much fun with them all the time.
we're so cute and naive when we're young, aren't we?

so at my moment of despair...where i was just about to make my final declaration, with a big fat L on the top of my head: "i'm not winning. i'm the loser of this race" i had to go to the store.
it was pouring rain.
and when i saw pouring, i mean that i stepped outside and was soaked.
how could i let myself run out of diapers in conditions like this?
because i stink at my jobs.
(adversary thoughts creeping their way in).
so we bundled up. and braved the storm.
(huh, maybe this is why my kids are so sick?)

once we had quickly picked up our things, there was luckily a break in the weather for a few minutes.
so i rushed the kids back into the car and started putting my groceries in the trunk.
well, on that errand i happened to be parked next to a mom and her little 3 or 4 year old boy.
now, please don't misread what i'm about to say.
because i was not judging this poor woman.
i know that life happens.
and toddlers can be frustrating.
i've experienced several melt-downs with Ellie at the store.
it's horrible.
but what i heard come out of her mouth was nothing short of appalling.
she screamed her brains out to this poor little boy.
i'm not sure what he did or didn't do.
i have no idea what she was going through or what kind of day she'd had.
but after a few smack-downs, and more than a few profane words were spoken, the little guy broke down into sobs and started screaming back at her.
and there they were, an adult and a child screaming their brains out at each other.
i finished putting my groceries in the car. it started to rain again.
i got in the car and looked at Ellie and Alice.
i told them i loved them.
and i wondered if that woman and that little boy would be ok.
i felt sad for both of them.
i'm sure they love each other so much.
but at that moment of anger and tempers, it would definitely be hard to feel love.

i looked back at Ellie again who was holding a little bag of candy that we had picked out for her at the store (sick kids get whatever they want).
and i wanted more than anything for her to know how much i love her.

does she know?
does she know how much she means to me?
does she know how precious she really is?

i told her i loved her again.
and asked her if she knew that i loved her.
"i sure do, Mama," she said.
and instantly my heart felt full.
because i knew she knew.
i know she knows.
and even if we have spent lots of moments in time-outs this week,
even if we've had ear infections, pink-eye & allergies to meds that i should know about,
and even if my house is a disaster with rats in the garage,
if my kids know that i love them their whole lives through,
i will have done my job.

and Satan almost let me feel defeated.
i am winning, you sly little snake.
try a little harder next time.

xoxo

the case of the kiss attack. and some things about Alice.

this morning Alice woke up before Ellie, like she usually does.
so i fed her real good, till she pulled away and gave me a gummy-grin as if to thank me.
but i was kinda mad at her for waking up 3 times last night.
and then for not going back down without a fight...all 3 times.
don't you know that night times are for sleeping, child?
geesh.
but her smiles and soft skin are too sweet to stay mad at.
so i kissed her cheeks. and kissed 'em real good.
and as soon as i finished kissing those Alice cheeks, i heard Ellie singing "Let's build a word! Word World! Word World!" (she loves the show Word World right now. do your kids watch that show? it's pretty cute. and slightly annoying. just keeping it real).
so Alice and i went into Ellie's room.
and we both climbed in her crib.
M tells me i'm crazy for climbing in the crib.
translation: you shouldn't get in the crib, Marci. you're going to break it.
probably true....
but i do it anyway.
as soon as we got in the crib, Ellie squealed in delight, "Awe! There's my baby sister! There's my baby Alice!" and Alice smiled so big.
and that's when it happened.
Ellie started kissing Alice's cheeks.
and head.
and arms.
and head again.
and cheeks again.
and toes.
and hands.
and belly.
and cheeks again. 
whoa, be soft, Ellie! (insert annoying Mama-nag-voice here)
but underneath all of those kisses was the happiest Alice you ever saw.
and i don't blame Ellie.
because kissing every inch of Alice is all i want to do too.
and most days, it is all we do.

Alice is five months old now.
it's weird because when Ellie was a baby, i just looked forward to each and every next thing. like i wanted her to get rolling or to sit up by herself. i fed her food as soon as i possibly could. M put her in crawling boot-camp (seriously) where he sat with her and put her lil body in the crawling position for good chunks of time throughout the day. it was so fun to see what she'd do next.

but with Alice...i just want her to stay my baby. forever and ever and ever.
but against my wishes, she's changing and growing so fast.
i guess if she must, she must.
and while she does, i'll document it.

some new Alice-isms:

she's a roller.
she rolls everywhere. front to back. back to front. side to side. all over town. it's crazy. and it's really messing with her sleep. which is messing with my sleep. and it's also really messing with our diaper changes. but i love how proud she is of herself that she is rolling everywhere. it's like she's saying, "look at me! look what i can do!" you keep rollin, girl.

{so thrilled to be rolling all over the place. p.s. notice those gums- we've got some major teething going on here.}

she's always loved her bath...but now that she is so much stronger and can stay on her tummy real good, she really LOVES her bath. she loves the water. she loves chewin' on the rubber ducks. and she loves kicking and splashing.

{cutest lil wet face}

she says Ma-ma-ma-ma. seriously! i'm considering this her first word. Ellie said duck first (i know, right? DUCK! not mama, not dadda, DUCK. what the heck?), then dadda, then mama. so i'm totally wrapping my arms around this Ma-ma-ma-ma business and telling everyone that she says Mama. oh gosh it's cute when they start mumbling and saying sounds.

 {this is the granny-denture-wearing-face Alice makes when she says Ma-ma-ma-ma}

she's totally interested in food now. we were sitting at a lil cafe the other day and M kept picking up his drink, bringing it to his mouth, and putting it down. her little beady eyes followed his every move. so funny. so we tried some rice cereal on her on Sunday for the first time. yeah, she wasn't the biggest fan. and quite frankly, i'm ok with that. feeding is just one giant mess anyway. and i wouldn't say she's lacking in chunkage, so we'll just ease her into that arena.

 {more interested in the spoon. naturally}

{proof of her chunkage: check out that neck-cleave. nice.}

Alice adores Ellie. one day this week, she woke up when Ellie had just gone down for a nap. after she finished eating, she kept turning and looking everywhere. she would NOT sit still. i was so confused at what the heck she was doing. then it dawned on me: "are you looking for Ellie!?" and then she finally looked at me, and smiled so big, and then stared at me as if to say, "Yeah! Where is my sister??" whenever Ellie is around, Alice observes her every move. and Ellie is so so sweet to her- she narrates everything she does. "this is my Princess dress Alice." or "i'm drinking Strawberry Milk Alice. hurry and get teeth so you can have some." Alice always makes eye contact and hangs on every single word that Ellie says to her. they are such a cute little pair. i'm so glad they have each other.

{notice how i'm trying to get all tree of us to look at the camera...and yet those two are just entranced with each other. so cute}

and really, i'm so glad we have each other.
Alice Joy is her name.
she's happy, jovial, and joyful. basically all the time.
she makes me smile.
she makes everyone around her smile.

she's just the sweetest thing to ever live.

and i'm so glad we get to kiss attack her whenever we want.

xoxo

some thoughts on my dad turning 50.

 {me + Pops, Victor's Cafe, NYC, 2004}

my dad turned 50 yesterday.
which means i can now technically call him my old man.
and which also means i am 1/2 his age.

now if i could just be 1/2 as smart, 1/2 as healthy, 1/2 as hard-working & 1/2 as generous, i'd finally be on the right path to becoming the person i want to be.

it's weird thinking of Pops being 50 (i call my dad Pops...and Ellie calls him Pops too. i like that). 50 sounds so much older than 49. but i really don't consider my parents to be old. when does that change? is it when your conversations become more about ailments than day-to-day stuff? or is it when they stop coloring their hair and go completely white/grey? or maybe it's when they lose their teeth or when they become bald? i don't know. but for now, my parents are the youngies that i want to grow up and be like.

some things i just love about my Pops:

Pops loves cheerios.
as in, he eats a bowl of cheerios for breakfast most mornings...and then grabs several handfuls of cheerios throughout the day. i love how he loves cheerios because everytime i eat a bowl of cheerios, i think of him.

Pops is a real tease.
like i remember many instances while growing up being in tears because of the incessant teasing. he would take bites off of my plate (i never learned how to share), laugh when i told him that it wasn't funny (i'm reminding myself of Ellie), steal some of my prized cotton candy (even though he undoubtedly paid for it), and tickle me when i wasn't in the mood to be tickled.
but Pops wouldn't be my dad if he didn't tease. and i've learned to love it.

Pops is the cutest grandpa.
i love seeing him with my girls.
he's not the most lovey-dovey human on the planet.
but the way he lights up just when he sees them makes me light up inside.
and the way he will do whatever Ellie asks him to do (even color or sit in her princess tent or take her on the crazy bumper cars at Disneyland) is simply heart-warming.

Pops is a quiet, yet powerful example.
i can remember countless mornings as a teenager coming downstairs to the laundry room to get my socks out of the drier (i love warm socks in the morning) and finding Pops reading his scriptures or kneeling to pray.
i remember him talking to us about honesty- and how basically all other attributes stem from being honest with yourself, others & God. more importantly, i remember him being 100% honest in every thing he did. i don't think he even knows how to exaggerate- that's how honest he is.
and one of my favorite memories is on the night before my wedding, i remember him coming to find scared-19-year-old me, who had disappeared from the chaotic bunch downstairs to pace the upstairs rooms back and forth. he calmly suggested giving me a blessing to ease my nerves and fears. and it worked. as blessings always do.

Pops always calls to check in.
he makes the effort to come and see me + my lil family pretty regularly, as he travels to San Francisco for work pretty regularly.
he's adopted M as a son (which happened almost instantly).
he makes me laugh.
i just love him.

i'm lucky.
lucky to have Pops be my dad.

happy 50 years, old man!
i hope i look as good as you do when i hit the big 5-0.

xoxo

reality check.

don't let that adorable-lil-chunkaroo-happy-face fool you...

Monday morning sucker punched me today at 6:30 am with two runny-nosed girls, a bomb-raided house, 5 extra large loads of laundry, + a scratch in my throat. i pulled the covers over my head and pretended not to notice any of it, which worked for a good 8 minutes or so.

baths- check, check.
breakfast- half check (i can't get my permanently clogged child to eat, and often am too scatter brained myself to remember to eat...that is, until 3 o clock and all i want by that point is peanut m&ms and/or a big chunk of bread + butter).
got everyone dressed- check, check, half-check (i walked around in my pjs for a good portion of the day because the chillens were leached on my arms, legs, etc).
keeping everyone entertained- minus-negative-un-check...aside from the brainless entertainment we received from watching Word World and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Cinderella. (insert immense guilt for watching waaayy too much tv today).
shower- check, in between screams. but i still consider this a huge success today.

the day got progressively worse and worse as one kid screamed all day long because she was clogged up and the other exploded everywhere three times, in between screams and a disgusting amount of saliva due to mama-diagnosed teething (5 months isn't too young to be teething, right?).

lessons learned from this terrible, tearful day:
1. do not boast about having a perfect day. you can think it, but publicizing it in public forums such as blogs or Facebook is just asking for karma to give you your share of badness.
2. sometimes having a friend or sister or mom to talk to can provide just the right amount of sanity to keep you going. even if 90% of your conversation is comprised about poop. (being a mom rocks).
3. making comfort food, such as fried chicken and sweet potato fries can provide some extra tlc at the end of your rocky night.
4. if your comfort food doesn't turn out, ( which it most likely won't because you're having a rotten day, remember?) there's no shame in taking a cookie sheet, sprayin it real good with Pam and poppin some good ole frozen chicken nuggets to do the job. heck, they're probably better for you than that fried chicken, anyway.
5. a little (or a lot of) tv can sometimes be a complete life saver.

and on that note, i will now go scrape around my house to scrounge up some sort of chocolate and plant myself right in front of my tv to watch the season finale of the bachelor.
classy, i know.

go Emily.

xoxo

simply perfect.

a walk with M and the girls.
donuts at kings in our jammies.


bubbles and peanut butter sandwiches and eating toes.
such little things to make such a lovely day.

tonight i looked out my kitchen window and saw Ellie and M playing t-ball.


it made me feel like the mama on the Sandlot and so i quickly went and put on my cutest yellow-vintagey apron and fixed us up some quesadillas. (quesadillas because i didn't really want to cook since it's the weekend and i feel i should get a break on the weekend ...but if not cooking is not an option, quesadillas are the next best thing... since i'm certain i could whip up a batch of quesadillas with my eyes closed).

Alice squealed happy squeals in the background.
some music was there too but i can't quite remember the tune.
but i do know it was perfect.
the whole thing.
and it all gave my heart those warm fuzzy gooey feelings that you feel silly talking about but you wish would last forever and ever.

and then at the spur of the moment, we loaded ourselves up in the car to get some jambas- a family favorite.
and while sipping on our smoothies we said "cheers!" at least a hundred times...

while Alice just smiled at all the crazy commotion.

and just when i was sure it couldn't get any better, we changed into our jammies, gave hugs and kisses, and Ellie voluntarily said family prayer all by herself.
i've never heard anything so beautiful, sincere and perfect as a little girl talking so genuinely to God.
she knows Him.
so do i.
and for this simple, yet perfect day, i thank Him most profusely.

xoxo

my home defined.

home [hohm]:
noun-
1. a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household.
2. the place in which one's domestic affections are centered.
3. an institution for the homeless, sick, etc.
4. the dwelling place or retreat of an animal.
5. the place or region where something is native or most common.
6. any place of residence or refuge
7. a person's native place or own country.
8. a destination or goal.

and that's just the definition of home as a noun.

since leaving home in my late teenage years, i've realized that home has changed faces on me multiple times.

home used to be the place that i'd open the fridge and find my favorite cans of tree-top apple juice, and rice pudding, i'd open the pantry to find home made fruit leather, chips + salsa, and i'd often come home to the smell of sweet hawaiian bread from the bread-maker, warm chocolate chip cookies, and/or a nice hot stack of my mama's cheesy-gooey quesadillas right off the skillet. 

i'd bring my friends home to hang out on our comfy yellow couch.

jump on our trampoline.

and look at ridiculous yearbook photos from my parents' old yearbooks. 

in the morning before school, i'd fight with my brother over who could use the bathroom first. (i usually won).

and with my mom about how i desperately needed only 5 more minutes to finish putting on my make-up or blow-drying the hair, because there was NO WAY i was going out with WET HAIR. (a teenage sin, in my mind...because wet hair then, meant dry/frizzy hair later...a major no-no for my frizzy curly locks) (i usually didn't win).

and then i'd rush down the stairs where i'd tap my foot or stair off into space to pretend i wasn't listening to scripture study (because i was mad to have wettish hair)....after which my dad would most assuredly pick on me to pray, since i was the obvious grumpy one that morning.

and after the hustle and bustle of the day, home was the place where dinners together as a family were non-negotiable...where Mimi would get mad if we ate the green beans all gone (they were her favorite), where Sean would tease me until i cried about being in the band, and where my Mom and Dad seemed smart, cool, collected...and truly interested in our trivial problems.

and after homework, and a bowl of ice cream, we'd meet together again on our knees and pray.

because our home was a home of prayer. that's what we did.

when Sean left on his mission, home changed a lot.

i missed fighting with him over the bathroom.

and i missed being terrified every snowy (or non-snowy) morning while he drove us to school.

and i even missed being teased.

and i know my dad missed having another boy around the house...because all of a sudden, we were talking too much about periods and boys and kissing and clothes and movie stars and chick flicks and painting our nails. my poor dad.

and soon after that, i left for college.

and home changed even more.

all of a sudden, i was split between two homes.

a dorm...which felt crammed and smelly and dirty all the time (did my mom really clean up after me that much??). which was surprisingly expensive and challenged the inner me with: "how bad to i want to eat something yummy?" and which had no siblings or parents around...which felt liberating at times...but often was very lonely.

and my childhood home...which never felt so huge. and spacious. and full to the brim of feasts, wonderful company, music, and smelled deliciously clean and fresh all the time.

and then i got married.

and i really started creating my own home.

but it was an identity crisis of sorts.

because it wasn't just me creating a home.

it was me and Him creating a home.

and that was tricky.

because all of a sudden i was challenged on which way to load the toilet paper.

and who has the duty of taking out the smelly trash when you can't possibly put another disgusting thing in it.

and how long can a tube of toothpaste really last...and who's responsibility should it be to remember to buy a new one.

and who is in charge of the cooking?

and picking up the messes? especially when both are working and going to school.

and how are we going to decorate this home....with the little precious pennies we have.

home became a mod-podge.

of furniture, of toothpaste brand preferences, of whole wheat vs white bread preferences, of closet space, and of every space in between.

but each of us still had our own childhood homes.

the place where everything seemed so seamless.

and clean.

and orderly.

where there was boundless love.

and people.

people who loved us.

people who cooked us our very favorite meals.

and bought the brands of shampoo and conditioner that we couldn't quite afford anymore.

and both of us wanted to escape to our own homes as much as humanly possible.

because that's where we grew up.

that's what we knew.

that's where we felt safe and secure.

and then my parents moved away.

at first it was really really sad when they moved away.

because home was that yellow bedroom of mine where i spent so many hours talking to friends and boyfriends and dreaming about what my life would be like someday.

and home was my friends coming to visit and eat some of those yummy chips and salsa with me at the island in my kitchen.

and home was that apricot tree in our backyard that produced an insane amount of apricots every spring/summer. and the cherry tree that we climbed on that tallest ladder ever to pick buckets and buckets of the most delicious red cherries.

and home was that mountain i could stare at from my bedroom window while i talked to God about life.

but now, we've been to my parents' new home a handful of times.

and i realize that home is so much more than stuff.

and each place has its own wonderful things.

home is where the people you love are.
it is where caring happens.
it is where listening and talking and tooting and laughing happens.

home is the place where memories are made together with those people you love.

and even though i don't have my apricot tree or my cherry tree anymore when i go to my childhood house...or even that beautiful mountain, i have palm trees and the ocean breeze...and i still have my Mama and Pops and Sister...the laughs are the same. the hugs are just as warm. and we just get each other.....and best of all, God can hear me just the same there, too. God does hear me just the same there.

and when i come back to my own home away from my parents and sister, it stings for a while.

i get sad.
and all mopey.

because i miss them so terribly.

i miss home so much.

but then i realize that i'm creating a place that my sweet little girls will remember the way that i remember my apricot tree and mountain.

because this is their home.

with our rickety old windows.

our cute lil garden boxes in the backyard.

and our cracked sidewalks and driveway.

it's the place where we eat Ellie's favorite pancakes and peanut butter toast.
it's the place where every mirror shows a gummy-grin-reflection from Alice.

it's the place where we laugh and cry together. and watch movies and dress up. and wipe noses and bums. and take deliciously long bubble baths.

it's the place where we kneel together to pray to our Heavenly Father as a family. because our home is a home of prayer. that's just how it is.

how grateful i am for home.

some snaps from my little voyage home with the girls last week.

it was truly memorable and sweet.

p.s. happy mardi gras!

xoxo

just a peek...

at our much-needed week away from reality.














miss you all!
xoxo

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