Lego!

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On Saturday we took the kids to Legoland. We are kicking ourselves that we did not do this sooner (let alone get a year-long pass and go all the time). It was so much fun. Here are a few photo highlights:





These last two photos are of the boys on a ride called Knights Tournament. You basically select the level (1-5) which determines the intensity and speed of the ride. They both picked five, the highest (of course), and spent the next several minutes being whipped at high speed from side-to-side and upside down. They LOVED it.

Hannah and I happily stood on the sidelines and took pictures.

Judge not...

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I was waiting in the after school pick-up line the other day. You know, the line of cars that is always a mile long - no matter how early you come. I happened to be near the front of the line (a rarity, let me tell you) and noticed a woman pull her mini-van up and park it in the handicapped space. She got out, grabbed her Louis Vuitton bag and sashayed herself into the school - her sparkly mules clicking as she walked. At first I made nothing of it, but then I started to look at her van. There was no handicapped sticker hanging from the rear view mirror. There were no handicapped plates. Clearly, at the elementary school, she was not here to pick up her elderly father. She had parked herself right next to the front door and popped in to pick up her child. Because waiting in line like the rest of us is, well, beneath her.

As I sat there thinking about this, I started to get annoyed. There are a lot of people here in So Cal that seem to have the attitude that they are busier and more important than everyone else. You know who I'm talking about - the ones that honk at you for not going 90 on the freeway or roll their eyes and take deep breaths when you're in front of them with your children at the checkout line in the grocery store. I judged this woman to be just that type. I mean, who did she think she was? We're all out here waiting in line for our kids- taking our turn. It just seemed so rude to me. The more I thought about it, the more bugged I got. I even half considered calling the school and letting them know that someone was blocking the handicapped space illegally.

I didn't do that.

And thank goodness.

For a few minutes later, she came back out of the school, and in her hand she held her son's backpack - the stylish handbag no longer her only accessory. And her son was walking right next to her - cheerfully giving an account of his day. He had a mop of dark hair and freckles splashed across his nose.

He could have been just like my kids.

Only there was no missing it. His knees were bent the wrong way on tiny, crippled legs. His arms were supported by two canes that he used to hold himself up and maneuver slowly to that front-row handicapped parking spot.

And here I sat, self-righteously judging a situation that I knew nothing about. How many times do I do this in my life? How many times do I see only what I want to see and miss the bigger picture? How many times do I fail to give the benefit of the doubt to strangers I meet on the street? Is this who I have become?

This whole experience has made me want to change that. The bottom line is that YOU NEVER KNOW. Never judge anyone unless you've walked a mile in their shoes, so the saying goes.

I'm so humbled. I'll be working on this one.

MY day

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I have the best husband. EVAH. He got me this for Mother's Day:

What is it, you say? This big piece of nerd finery is the Epson Stylus Photo 1400. It will enable me to print directly onto my 12x12 scrapbook pages - clearly a critical function of life, I know. I am a scrapbook snob (meaning I don't do digital - I like getting my hands on all those beautiful brads, papers, ribbons, and chipboard letters), but I will now have the freedom to print my journaling or titles directly onto my pages (or should I choose, I can even print out high quality photos up to 13x16 right from my own desk - which is slightly secondary to the scrapbook function, of course). I am ecstatic.

Thanks, baby. Thanks for paying attention to the not-so-subtle hint in my blog. Thanks for looking at the printout I cleverly left for you from Epson's website. Oh, and thanks for listening to each kid individually remind you on Saturday that you needed to buy mom her printer ("...because IT'S MUVVER'S DAY! WE HAVE TO GET HER A PRINTER! That's what she WANTS!"). You really are the best (and you only needed a little help to get the job done).

The only challenge remains in leaving it long enough to do minor things like, I don't know, feed the children, shower, and use the bathroom. I'll do my best, but I'm not promising anything...

What if...

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With it being Mother's Day this week, I have been thinking about all the blessings these three little creatures have brought to my life. I am certain I would be a completely different person had I never become a mother. There have been good times, bad times, hard times, and a whole lot of fun times. And in honor of all that mothers are, here is a list of things I would have missed had I never become a mother.

If I wasn't a mother...

I'd never know the feeling of tiny growing feet kicking my ribcage, kidneys, bladder, and other internal organs. Or how it felt to stare in wonder and awe at my own belly, watching an elbow or a foot sliding by.

I would have missed out on the indescribable exhilaration I felt hearing my babies cry for the very first time.

I would not have known just how sweet each baby would smell first thing in the morning.

I would not have spent hours peeking over the edge of a crib to make sure they were still breathing. (I still do this one sometimes).

I would have missed all those sleepless nights.

I would have missed all those perfect mornings.

I probably would not have known the unmistakable sensation of vomit, urine, and feces simultaneously being spewed upon my shirt.

I would never have found out that I didn't mind it - because it came from them.

I wouldn't have seen the sheer joy on their faces when they each took that first step.

I would have missed my own sweet tears of joy, watching helplessly on the sidelines; proud, and yet knowing that this monumental step was the beginning of the journey that will ultimately make them independent of me.

I would never have thanked the Lord for Teletubbies, Elmo, Bob the Builder, or the Wiggles.

I would have been spared the heart-wrenching anxiety of putting that big five-year-old boy on the school bus for the first time.

I would then miss the extreme, guilt-free pleasure of putting another boy on that very same school bus a few years later.

And I wouldn't be looking forward with glee to the moment when the little girl person in this house boards the school bus this fall.

I would have missed reading all the stories - and their soft, contented breathing right before bedtime.

I most certainly would not have known McDonalds' entire menu by heart.

I would not know the intense pride I'd feel when I watched them learn new things.

I would not know just how much it would hurt to hold back my own fears and let them try things for themselves, even if I knew it meant disappointment for them.

    I would have missed seeing the Mama Tiger in me come out when I felt other kids had trampled over them on the playground.

    I would not know the worry and heartache of being helpless when they're sick.

    I would not know just how good granola bars and frosting are together.

    I would not have found my own inner strength during times when all I wanted to do was fall into a heap and cry, but could not because they were watching.

    I would have missed enjoying them reach a maturity level where they can talk about real-people type of things; a place where we can have actual conversations.

    I would not have grown in more ways than I can count.

    I would not be the me I am today. And I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.

    So whether you're a mother or simply have one, take time this weekend to tell her you love her. That's all she really wants anyway (...that AND a new scrapbooking printer - hint, hint!). Happy Mother's Day!