simple.

Pratt: "mom, how does a submarine go underneath the water?"

Me: "um...you know, I don't know. Maybe a propeller? Yes. Maybe. Or maybe there is a button they push that says, "down" and "up".

Pratt: "no mom. That's just too simple. I'll ask dad. I bet he knows."

Awesome.




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pause.

there are moments during our days when i literally close my eyes.  and try to soak it all in.

the sights.  the smells.  the sounds.  all of it.  because i know that these are going to be, by far, my most favorite years with the boys.

pratt could literally bonk max on the head and max would laugh.  and smile.  and wish he were just.like.pratt.  not that pratt would do this.  it's crazy how sweet he is to him.  i keep holding my breath.  waiting on this to change.  i'm sure that it will.  i hear that all the time.  once max starts to take his toys.  once max starts to need me more.  etc, etc.

i guess as much as i can be, i'm ready for that.

i just love this age for both of them.  i said to clint last night, i would have ten more children if someone would agree to raise them for the first 6 months.  i'm just no good.  it's the sleep thing.  i can't do it.

we played in the sunshine after school today.  max giggles the entire time he's in the swing.  and pratt just wants to "fwy so high that (he) can see the twees"!

i'm so blessed to have them.  i now realize that mom really was being serious when she told me that i was perfect.  that everything about me was perfect.  i never believed it.  but now i do.  because those boys are perfect in my eyes.  so, so perfect.  exactly how God wanted them to be.

have a blessed monday.

mornings with max.

I love these days. Such a fun age. Such a sweet, happy baby.












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the stuff dreams are made of.

for a solid 30 minutes they have been "playing" like this.





Pratt builds something. The entire time he tells max what he's building. And max just "talks" and laughs. And swings his arms round and round.

This is the stuff dreams are made of. Two brothers playing together.

Remind me of this next time Pratt is making tiger growl face at me...


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max's first swing.

max LOVES his swing.














and that's good.  because we will do a whole lot of this come spring.  and maybe by then pratt will have "the push" mastered.

happy b-nastics, day!

liza kate.

Liza is the prettiest baby ever born.




I've already started worrying about anything that could possibly hurt her. Im going to have to move closer so that Pratt and max can protect her. That's just all there is to it.


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dear pratt.

today i registered you for preschool.

did you read that?  do you need to read it again?

come september 4th, you will be a member of preschool.

i didn't cry as i filled out the forms.  in fact, i laughed.  because they asked me to describe you.  and i thought, "how in the world do i do that?  he's indescribable.  he's funny.  and talkative.  and inquisitive.  and kind.  he's hard headed.  and he's persistent.  he can be incredibly sweet and then turn into a growl face tiger in 0.02 seconds."

me, miss verbose, i...i found myself with no words.  no way of telling these two wonderful, incredible teachers about you.  because you kind of just have to meet you.

don't worry.  i didn't write that.  i tried to put something down that made sense.  that was logical.  and honest.

and as i did, as i tried so hard to keep my hand from writing, "he's like the super best kid ever.  ever, ever, ever.  even in the 30 years you've been teaching kids...he's gonna be the bomb", i realized that this is what every mother thinks.  and feels.

we all do.  we all think our kid is the best.  (even though you actually are).

and i realized that i'm finally a member of "that club".  and i'm not ashamed.  i'm proud.  i'm proud that we've made it this far.

i remember when you were first handed to me, pratt.  i remember like it was yesterday.  i remember so many people coming in that hospital room to get a look at you.  so many people held you your first day here.  as stacy says, "for a little while, you were the newest baby in the world." i think older people get that.  they get that babies truly are a piece of heaven.  and so they wanted to hold you.  and to smell you. and to love on you.  even if for just a few minutes.

you have turned into this 3.5 year old little boy.  who loves bugs.  and rhyming games.  and coleman.  you've developed this personality.  you're smart.  and kind.  and you love me more than i deserve.  sometimes you tell me randomly that you love me.  and no matter where we are...or what i'm doing, it always causes a lump in my throat.  because i don't feel like i'm good enough.  you wouldn't understand this sentiment.  it would make no sense to you.  but it's true.

i'm so proud of who you are.  i'm so proud of the friend you are.  and the son you are.  i love watching you with your grandparents.  and with liza.

and i'm gonna love watching you at school.  i know that your teachers will love you.  and i can rest in knowing that they will love you too.

one more thing...the majority of the people in my life who have influenced me, have been teachers.  i pray that you will be able to say the same thing when you're my age.

there is an art to teaching.  and not everyone has it.  i pray that you are blessed with loving, kind, motivated teachers for your entire schooling.

based on preschool...we're off to a great start.

i love you to the moon and back.
xoxo,
mommy.

lucky.

I look at these pictures and I can literally feel my heart burst inside my chest.

I never knew I could love another human being as much as I loved my mom and dad, my sister. My husband.

Somehow I do. Somehow I love these boys too. With all my heart.

Yesterday as I was getting Pratt a happy meal, and I was getting it all spread out for him...something hit me. It was this overwhelming sense that I had this fairy tale life. With precious, healthy, loving boys. Three of them.

I took a step back from pratt, sitting there with his happy meal in his lap. And I got choked up.

I will never understand how anyone could ever hurt any child. The innocence is overwhelming. I feel drive to protect them...every single day. In every situation.

So boys, when you read this one day...know that I love you both more than you will ever understand. And that I have tried (I have also failed, I'm sure) to always do right by you both.

You are a dream come true. And you make me feel like the luckiest momma in the whole, wide world.
























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morning.

So I never forget what mornings feel like.




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pictures.

Max laughs at everything. Seriously. Everything.




Look at his chubby fingers!!! What did moms do before Steve Jobs?




We got this at the library today. And I cannot wait to read it to Pratt at bedtime (or as he calls it, "bednight"). My mom had the BEST superfudge voices. Ill never measure up.




We went to the library. And there were lots of new puzzles.




No explanation needed. Good. Cause I don't have one.




He needs some paints...




www.drawastickman.com

Pratt drew a spider. If the shoe fits...




Painting. He's actually really good.




Max is totally cool if food is in hand.



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max.

He wishes he could drink through a straw. He knows it would be so darn good.




He loves his daddy's iPad. He likes peek a boo barn. And baby Einstein videos. And pictures of his brother on facebook.




Max is pretty awesome. And so laid back. And he thinks everything is funny.

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reach.

This morning max reached his chubby little arm out to clint.

As in, "hold me, daddy!!!"




I had to document it. It's the first time he's done anything like that. I was starting to wonder of his arms worked. Yay!! They do!!

This little boy loves his daddy.


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brothers.

I was getting a pedicure Friday when I got this message from Clint. With the pictures.













It's true. Max loves nothing more than being close to his big brother.

I can already tell that he is gonna do anything Pratt suggests. Awesome...



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january 30.

i don't know that this is really the place to be doing this...but i'm gonna do it anyway.  because what i'm about to say does affect my children.  and my relationship with them.  and their daddy.

a few days ago, a friend of mine on facebook posted about how she was going to be helping people with their new years resolutions to get and stay fit.  she's a beachbody coach.  she's awesome.  and scary.  really, really scary.  she said she was going to be on me like white on rice.  and i believe it.

this friend is someone i go to church with.  i don't know her all that well.  but i think it's because we've never really done much together.  i think that if we had the chance, we would probably be pretty good friends.  all that to say, i messaged her.  and opened myself up.  and told her things i haven't ever told anyone.

well, maybe one person.  my friend whitney.

but that's irrelevant.  i told my friend my story.  about why i wanted, needed her help.

and when i hit send, i prayed she didn't think i was crazy.

she didn't.  she knew exactly how i felt.  and she had felt the same way.  but over the past year, she has totally changed her life.  and i believe that she can help me to change mine.

i don't know where to start.  so i'll just jump in.

i'm not a fan of myself physically.  i don't know when this started.

but i think i know why.  or maybe what sort of helped the process to begin.

i was in the 11th grade.  i had on a cheerleading uniform.   see, clara.  i really was a cheerleader :)

i was standing at the end of the science hallway in our high school.  a boy, a year younger than me, was walking toward me.  when he got about 3 feet away, he said, "what's up ham hock legs?"

i will never, ever forget it.

it is etched into my mind just like the face of pratt.  and max.  and clint.  and my mom and dad.  it's that permanent.

i almost threw up.  on the inside.  but i think i smirked on the outside.  didn't let him know that he had hurt me so much.  he was actually a "friend".  if those existed in high school.  i don't know that they really did.

now fast forward 3 years.  maybe 4.  i was dating a guy in college.  we were in abercrombie and fitch.  and he looked up at one of the models on the posters in there and he said, "if you looked like that, i'd be more apt to ask you to marry me."

let me say that we were no where near there.  it's probably even a stretch to call what we were doing "dating".  i liked him.  he liked me.  but he also liked being a guy that wasn't in a relationship.  that's all i will say about him.

i think on some level he meant it.  he went on to marry someone much prettier than me.  she's tall.  and lean.  and well, that's all about that.  i'm not mad at him.  i think he's a great guy.  but the comment was horrible.  especially after the ham hock comment.

i know that body image is something that all us girls deal with.  i deal with depression on top of that.  so the two like to party sometimes and well, it's hard for me.

i say all that to say that i'm about to do something about it.  i'm about to change my lifestyle.

i'm tired of saying that i'll start working out, i'll enjoy wearing a summer clothes, i'll be comfortable in a swimsuit a year from now.

I WANT IT NOW.  i want to be confident.  i want to be fit.  i want to be healthy on the inside.  i crave it.  i really do.

so january 30th, i start a long journey.  a journey to be better.  to eat better.  to exercise better.  to be happier.  or on some days to be happy.

i am going to be doing p90x.  i know this works because i saw my sister's body completely transformed by it.  she's going to be doing p90x too.  so this will be awesome for me.  i need accountability.  i'm also going to be doing shakeology.  a meal replacement.  but that's where i draw the line with anything like that.  i don't want to be on diet pills.  i don't want to skip meals.  i LOVE to eat.  i want my children to see me eat.  i don't want them to ever feel like i skipped a meal.  i was raised by a mother who can cook anything better than any restaurant ever could.  i want the same for my boys.  i want them to eat veggies.  and fruits.  and whole grain.  and sometimes we will have meat.  etc, etc.

i feel pounds lighter already.  i needed to get that off my chest.  it defines so much of who i am today.  okay.  that's all.

being a girl is hard.  this world we live in is mean.  i will do my best to teach my boys to respect everyone.  their body.  their mind.  all of it.  if i ever hear either of my children call anyone "ham hock legs" i might die.

happy weekend!

Our day.

Today has been filled with fun.

Playdoh. Pancakes and fruit...both with cool whip on top.







We read lots of books while max napped. We spent about 30 minutes on the bug book. He would ask me to read something to him. But before I would begin, he would interrupt and say, "wait mom. I have sumfing to tell you!"




And finally, McDonald's new chicken mcbites. Yummy!




Oh, and max is on the mend. This was him last night. Poor baby.



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meet pratt2.

pratt was so awesome at school yesterday.  i assume he's usually pretty good because they say he is.  but yesterday when i went to get him, i was about 10 minutes late.  i thought he would be in the 4 year old classroom.  but he wasn't.  he was in his classroom with his new teacher.  i apologized saying that i was so sorry and thought he would be out of her hair by now.  she said, "oh no! he wanted to stay with me and help me get the room set up.  and he's such a great little helper.  so we decided he would wait here for you."

all i heard was "such a great little helper".  that's my pratt.  the best helper.

and so we left there and immediately went and got frozen yogurt from leave it to liz.  and then we came home.  he was good all afternoon.  like, went out of his way to help me with his very sick brother.

and so by about 445, i told him i thought we should get another fish.  i mean, he loves fish.  he talks to them.  feeds them.  even well...remember this post?

so yes.  it's time.

clint took him last night.  because daddy is the fish expert.  like, for real.  he is.  they were gone well over an hour.  and came back with this guy.





dad almost died because this little guy cost 16 bucks.  ha.  yes.  16.  when the cashier rang him up he said something like, "whoa.  16.  i thought they were like 5."

her response: "they start at 4.99.  the prettier the fish, the more expensive."

how hilarious is that!?  16 dollars.  that means we MUST keep him alive for at least 16 days.  i think i can handle that.  surely.

pratt named him.  i tried lots of things.  i even tried "buster".  to which he replied, "you can't have two busters mom."

oh, right.

so what's the name?

pratt.

when i threw it right back at him, "you can't have two pratts, pratt."

his response:  "okay.  pratt2."

sounds good to me.

buster.

over the past few days, i've picked up so many cups.  kid cups.  you know, from chilis.  or dixie cafe.  or the dollar bin at the target.

i will walk up to a table, the fireplace, the floor...and see, two cups.  filled to the brim with water.  and only one has been consumed.

so finally today, i took the bait and said, "pratt.  why have i picked up like 16 cups over the past few days? why?  why is there water in 2 cups? side by side.  i don't understand."

he goes, "buster.  one is for me.  and one is for buster."

buster is his "inbisible" bunny.  who i imagine looks exactly like buster from arrested development.

you too?  yes.  because do you know another buster?  if the bunny's name were job, i would imagine the same thing.  job bluth.

i don't know another buster. just that one.  the one that has the s.e.x. with liza minnelli.

anyway...back to the story.

so i apparently need to dig a grave for ole bus because he won't be here soon.  by the looks of it, he's in severe kidney failure.  and we're gonna have to let him pass.  maybe even help the process along.

it's not too early to talk to him about jack kevorkian, is it?

i'm tired.  being a stay at home mom is going to kill me.  i can feel it.

me and buster bluth.

morning.

Pratt just came into the kitchen and said, "I know this sounds weird...but...this situation feels familiar."

So we talked about the brain and the corpus callosum. And he liked it. Said it was interesting.

May he always love to learn. I know I do. (Clint, consider this my plea at nursing school....)

Here he is filling up for his first day back at school.




In other news, Max is pulling my face off when he eats.


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rocky.

life seems to be so much harder right now.

clint and i rarely get time together without pratt or max.  by the time we are alone, i'm exhausted and so is he.

we have fought more than we ever have recently.  and by "more", i would mean maybe once a week.  but i hold onto it.  i don't let things go.  i get mad about something and then i let something else build on top of that and then something else is added and by day three, i'm still mad.

i'm not proud of this.  i know that i need to be more mature.  and a better wife.  but i'm having a hard time.

it's always the same thing.  i feel like i do so much and i deserve a break.  i see his poker nights and saturdays spend outside doing housework as "a break".  he doesn't.  well, he sees the poker as a break.  but not the outside work.  i see the outside work as "fun" because it doesn't involve poop diapers.  or cleaning the dishes.  or the floors.  or doing the laundry.

i want him to read my mind.  i really thought after 10 years together, he would be able to.  i'm pretty sure i can read his.

sike.  i can't read his.  and he can't read mine.  and that's where the breakdown occurs.

i was listening to dr. laura on the radio the other day.  i love her.  she's so mean.  but i still love her.  because i agree with her on a lot.  she's like the radio version of simon cowell.  anyway.  a woman called in and said that her husband had left her and her baby because he said she was horrible to be around.  because she was rude and always tired.  and never had time for him.

i literally started crying in the car listening.  it was me.  like, it was totally me.

she had excuses for her behavior.  my excuses.

i'm tired.  i don't feel like making out because i'm tired.  and because my body looks like that of a 98 year old woman.  and when he doesn't do something the way i think it should be done, i fuss.  and fight.  and he snaps back.  (because he's not totally innocent) and then i snap.  and then we go to bed mad.

and on and on and on.

and then she said, "i just want him home.  i used to want time alone.  i wanted to go anywhere.  and now, now all i want is him to come home. i just want to sit next to him."

it was absolutely heartbreaking.

i don't think clint would ever leave me.  i'm 99% sure of that.  but the thought still scared me to death.  like i could nag enough to where he would want to sit in his car and not come in.

he always tells pratt, "there is no where else i would rather be than here with you, max and mom."  and he means it.

what if he stopped meaning it.  stopped saying it?  i would die.

so i'm going to be better.  clint, if you're reading this, i'm working on it.

i'm sorry for being tired.  and for being cranky and witchy.

he deserves better.  so do our boys.

batteries.

this morning as i was in the shower, pratt was caring for "buster" and all the other rabbits in the bathtub.  we were conversing.  talking about the weather.  what we would make for daddy's dinner saturday night (birthday dinner with nana).  baby liza.  etc, etc.

i try so hard not to harp on things that pratt could work on.  you know, behavior.  manners, etc.  i don't want people constantly throwing in my face things i'm not good at.  so i try not to do it to him.  i even use my master's degree and try to talk positively.

so i say,

hey pratt, i understand you had trouble listening to the teachers last night at gymnastics.  


what i really wanted to say was, so dad tells me that you made about a c minus at gymnastics last night.  he said you didn't listen and you got in trouble by miss andrea.

but i didn't.  i tried to spin it.  be positive.  blah blah blah.

you know what he says!?

yes.  the batteries in my wistening (listening) ears were dead.  i'm gonna need new ones.  


prayer requests:
me and clint
all family members that deal with him weekly
his future jolly time preschool teachers
and me again
and me once more

thank you all.

life.

in pictures.




































It's all going by way too fast.

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