23 November 2010

Trash Day

We moved in September. Once I got over the emotional trauma of not living 2 miles away from my bestie, I was able to recognize how great our new place is. With the exception of some key people and our pediatrician, I prefer our new location over the last. However, there is one very real area where our new home can't compete.

Every Monday and Thursday morning, Jonas was motivated to stop his crying by loud crashing, rumbling, beeping sounds. The boy loves him some trucks. Big trucks. Little trucks. Car-trucks (SUVs). And especially garbage trucks.

When we heard the garbage trucks on the next street, he would yell,"TRUCK!!" and run to the door. Every morning, he pulled up a seat for himself on the garden stone and watched it drive toward us then drive away, picking up all the trash on the street. It was a great morning distraction that he looked forward to.

We aren't afforded that same luxury here, which is fine. Though I sometimes miss that semi-weekly distraction.

(On a side note, the life of a garbage man is way worse than I thought. Please don't balance leftover food or used Kleenex or glass bottles on the top of your precariously-stuffed trash can. It will fall. And they have to pick up every last bit of it. Gross.)

22 November 2010

Who's the Fairest One of All?

At BYU, there is a building across from the KMB that has huge reflective windows. I loved those windows because they were the equivalent of giant mirrors. Most people who were ashamed of their narcissism would surreptitiously appraise themselves from the corner of their eyes, making for fantastic comedic fodder.

Me, oh no, I would never be caught glancing at myself from the corner of my eye. I love mirrors. Especially those ones. I don't even know what building they're on because I was so busy assessing my appearance.

Every single time I passed those windows.

For 3 years.

Each time I walked by, I flagrantly scrutinized my figure, hair style, posture, etc. Undoubtedly one of my character flaws. And as luck would have it, I have passed this down to my son. It is readily apparent that the child loves mirrors just as much as his mama does.

21 November 2010

Simple Pleasures

"I wish I liked anything as much as my kids like bubbles."
--Paul Rudd as Pete in Knocked Up (which I have not seen, FYI)

20 November 2010


The kids have a gorgeous professional dancer Auntie Talese who will hopefully somehow pass on her Rockette prowess just by association. If you are in Providence or Boston, do yourself a favor and see the show. She is the beautiful one in the middle who also happens to be the best one on stage.

Perhaps Talese is infusing her dancing prowess through wardrobe. She sent the kids these onesies and they have been practicing ever since. Jonas is currently mastering the sandwich while Mimi is perfecting her salute.

Thanks Aunt Talese!

19 November 2010

2 months old

Mimi at 2 months. There are a handful of physical characteristics I love about this lady.

I love how deep the crease is between her lips. I love how firm her cheeks are, despite looking so squishy. I love how she was born with the most perfect eyebrows, and how she raises one at a time. I love how this first picture is the exact face Jonas makes when he is mildly disappointed. I love how her eyes crinkle at the sides and in between when she smiles. I love how she has way more eyelashes on her left eye than her right.

13 November 2010

I Should Have Studied Astronomy

I love when the stars and planets align and my two babes sleep at the same time.

I hate when I spend all three hours doing nothing except waiting because "one of them will wake up any minute."

10 November 2010

Say nose

Jonas speaks a language that most toddlers seem to know, but parents don't. It's called, "I'll say whatever I want, when I want."

This is an exchange we had 5 minutes ago. I pressed him on it to see how far he would go.

Mommy: Say nose.
Jonas: Toys.

Mommy: Nose.
Jonas: Crime.

Mommy: Nose.
Jonas: Baby.

Mommy: Nose.
Jonas: A bubble.

Mommy: Say nose.
Jonas: Eye

Mommy: Nose.
Jonas: Night-night

Mommy: Nose.
Jonas: Quack

Mommy: Nose.
Jonas: Prayer.

Mommy: Nose
Jonas: What's that?

Mommy: Say nose.
Jonas: (indecipherable noises)

Mommy: Say nose.
Jonas: Nose (with a huge grin)