Why, I just did this yesterday!

When was the last time you got into bed and thought to yourself, "You know, what feels like a right decision to me is to strip off all my clothes and draw all over myself with a red pen. Yep, that seems good. Better get cracking on that."

For Aubrey, she was struck by that wave of genius today during "nap" time. Also note, in an effort to keep this blog's PG rating I made her put on undies but I found her naked as the day she was born. I couldn't stop laughing.

For your viewing pleasure

I bring you a little tacky, dusty rose background, circa 1998, to make you feel love during Valentine's Day.

A man and his shoes are soon parted

At least Dane wishes they were. Let me summarize.

Dane was born with club feet.

Feet doing much better.

Must wear orthodics in shoes to keep feet doing well.

Dane hates his orthodics.

Dane hates his shoes.

Two things:

1. We did get him different shoes that he is much happier with.

2. As a mother, is it bad that I took pictures of the above situation and thought it was hilarious?

Dance like no one is watching

Greg and I have been participating in a family Biggest Loser/Get Fit/Stop Your Whining and Do Something About It contest. Three weeks in we are feeling good, eating better, and working out a lot. Which brings me to my point. You know. Because I try to make one.

I was getting ready for bed the other night and Greg said, with true amazement, "Your abs look great!" This is flattering for many reason. One, my husband thinks I look good. Enough said. Second, I have had three kids over the course of the last 4 1/2 years and my stomach has taken a beating. Weight lost? Yes. Abdominal muscles taunt with no flabby skin over the top and not a trace of a stretch mark or a really weird looking belly button? Uh, no. Thirdly, I have been beating my abs to a bloody pulp the last few weeks and DESERVED a compliment on them.

But it continued. "What have you been doing for them?" he asked.

"Well, I've been using the yoga ball at the gym, crunches, and my ballet video."

It's true. I have a workout video, two part series, called "The New York City Ballet" and I love it. In a former, juvenile life, I took six years of ballet lessons. The video brings me back, makes me think that I have grace and a swan like neck, and kicks the tar out of my abs, thighs, and rear. (Which, by the way, may or may not be a good thing. I think the flab is going down but there seems to be even more junk in my trunk. I do not think I need a ghetto booty. But I digress.)

"Really? Your ballet video, huh?"

"Yeah, it's really good. You should do it with me sometime."

Do you know where I'm going with this?

The man, my man, Greg Jones, Mr. Basketball, has done my ballet video with me not once, but twice now. Start to finish. Every plie, every front attitude, every stretch, and every miserable ab exercise on there. By the end he is sweating, begging for water, and acknowledging my studliness.

He says he is sore and more sore the day after we do the videos. For him, a lot of it is about the intense stretching and flexibility components of it. I think looking at the physiques on the male dancers doesn't hurt either. These guys look like they've been carved from marble and then lacquered into a luxurious shine. I'm not sure if a few grande plies in our family room will get you there but the dream is alive and well. And for now I'm loving having an exercise partner, some validation that my work out is hard too, and pride in knowing that MY MAN is man enough to dance.

Pictures of Dane, take two

I recommend one year old boys to anyone. They are awesome.

(p.s. I rotated my pictures before posting them. Blogger took it upon itself to put them on their side. Not awesome.)

Dane also had his one year appointment. He was 21 lbs. 1 oz. (15th percentile) and 32.5 inches long (90th percentile). He also had his appointment at Shriners this morning and his foot was scored 0. That's as good as it gets folks! They made him a new splint and some orthodics for his shoes but we are in the clear now. A year ago today I was hauling all three babies to Shriners EVERY DAY for training on how to tape and splint his foot and when they told me we had to do it until he walkd I nearly cried. Yet here we are, on the other side of that year and what do you know, it didn't kill us after all. Besides, our little Dane is so worth it.

7 a.m.

So far today I have been puked and pooped on. What have you done?

This is what one looks like

It happened. Our baby baby turned one. He walks everywhere. He has a temper. He gives the best snuggles. We no longer have to tape his foot. He seems so big and still so small. He is our ever precious, ever loving, Danish Doodle. Happy 1st Birthday baby boy!



...twenty minutes later. Blogger is having an aneurysm and is refusing to let me post any more pictures. I am in turn also having an aneurysm. Trust me, it's not pretty.

Consider this picture your teaser. Dane, on his real birthday, chowing down on his first chocolate chip cookie. He loved it, good man. Any child of mine will find peace and comfort in the warm embrace of chocolate.

Lianna, you don't get an exit seat

To loosely quote my sister Lianna from a few months ago (she'd been doing a lot of flying):

"I highly doubt that if my plane drops out of the sky that any of my broken body pieces will be able to find my seat to serve as a flotation device. Like, hey, we just dropped three thousand miles into the Pacific and my remains are spread over three watery miles but look, there's my seat that doubles as a flotation device!"

I am motivated to actually listen to the flight attendants next time. Lianna, maybe you should too. :-)

Three stooges

Here is a photographic essay as to what my
kiddos have been up to this last week. In no particular order you can see Aubrey learning the ropes of women's hair care and diffusers, Nathan reading "People" magazine while pooping, and Dane, delighting in a mess of honey and flour.

Never dull I tell you, never dull.

Mug shot

I cut off all my hair. I think I like it.

Bran Flax Muffins

My sister KayLynn is great about finding healthy, tasty recipes and this one is no exception. We made a batch tonight and they are delicious. My kids have gobbled them up and I had to restrain myself to stop at one. I hope you enjoy them as much as we did.

Bran Flax Muffins

1.5 cups white flour (I used half white, half whole wheat)
3/4 cup ground flaxseed (we bought whole flax seed and ground it in our coffee grinder)
3/4 c. oat bran
1 c. brown sugar
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. cinnamon
1 1/2 c. finely shredded carrots
2 peeled and shredded apples
1/2 c. raisins (optional)
1 c. chopped nuts (optional)
3/4 c. milk
2 beaten eggs
1 tsp. vanilla

Mix together flour, flaxseed, oat bran, brown sugar, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon in a large bowl. Stir in carrots, apples, raisin, and nuts. Combine milk, beaten eggs, and vanilla. Pour liquid ingredients into dry ingredients. Stir until ingredients are moistened. Do not over mix. Fill muffin cups 3/4 c. full . Bake at 350 degrees for 15-20 minutes. Yields 15 muffins.

Note. KayLynn says that she has used all whole wheat flour, wheat bran instead of oat bran, and added more apples when she didn't have carrots. According to her, all ways are good.

A man above generalizations

I saved Greg for my last day because I wanted to put some thought into what I would say. I think kids are simpler to describe, at least at this stage. Their lives aren't very complicated so their personality traits are more straight forward. Adults on the other hand have all sorts of challenges and situations to react to, all of which show little parts of the character underneath.

Greg is a person who is never satisfied with anything less than the best in himself. While this can discourage him at times, it is also one of his greatest strengths. The house is a mess? Then he'll clean it. Frustrated with his weight? Then he'll lose it. Concerns at work? He looks for a solution. Misses his family? He'll be intentional about putting us first. As we speak, he is working so hard at being a man of God, being a good father, husband, employee, son, and friend. He never takes a break from wanting to better himself.

And really, can I talk about Greg without mentioning basketball? Outside of his family and God, it is his deepest love. He has played on the same rec team since graduating from college (GO BUCS! That was for you, Travis.) and they have won their division every year. They practice for heaven's sake and this is a rec league! Come March, don't bother making plans with him because he'll only have eyes for college hoops. There is a lot of who he is that he identifies with basketball because of the role it has played in his life.

I think Greg is best described through his actions. He has the BEST laugh, ask anyone, and isn't afraid to use it. He will play uninterrupted in the snow with the kids for two hours and never once want to check his email. He will dance the sprinkler in the kitchen and be the life of the dance at any party. He will tell me sincerely that I'm pretty on no make-up and sweats days. He has called me every day since the snow hit to let me know that he made it to work because he knows I'm worrying. He is awesome.

You know those rose colored lenses I mentioned in Dane's post? Well, we have been together for ten years so of course I have a few gripes. Greg will always shop for my birthday and Christmas hours before I'm supposed to receive the gifts. He will always be more comfortable at 60 degrees while I like the house at a nice balmy 74. He will probably always drop his towels on the floor and leave crumbs on the counter. We still can't play games together without arguing. Are you hearing me though? THIS IS AS BAD AS IT GETS. Seriously. He's really that great of a guy. He's masculine and kind and thoughtful and simple to please and determined and COMPETITIVE and driven and HANDSOME and loving and generous. Is that enough superlatives for you? Are you nauseous yet?

I love you Greg!

A boy with a thousand names

Dane. Danish. Danish Doodle. Danish Dumpling. My sweet little Danish. My freshly baked pastry. (You know, because Danish's are a delicious food as well as a succulent boy.) Too bad for Dane, the two knick names that haven't caught on are DANEgerous and Great Dane. Both are distinctly more studly than Danish Dumpling.

And yet, he is our little doodle. And then again, not so little. Eight days until my baby turns one. I can't believe it and yet I can because I have two other little examples of how quick time goes. Dane is ridiculously fun right now. He is THIS CLOSE to being a full time walker, is into everything that his siblings wish he wasn't, crawls up to me and lays his head on my lap for no particular reason, and already has a squeal down that means, "I just saw Aubrey and Nathan have a piece of chocolate and I want one too."

He is a great baby performer as well. He knows all the tricks. Clapping his hands, high fives, giving kisses, dancing to his favorite song. He also knows how to wake up at 5:30 a.m. and refuse to go back to sleep until he is snuggled in bed between mom and dad, holding both of their hands. But that is another story.

Lest you think that my rose color shades are on, let me tell you, he also has mastered the wailing back arch. How dare you take away that trachea sized marble! He flops back screeching, back arched, face red, and let's it go. You can repeat that scenario for nearly any wrong he thinks has befallen him. He also knows the third child cry. I have no watched him try to take something from Nathan than cry and look at me when Nathan won't relinquish it. He is already faking an injury to get his brother in trouble.

Our little Dane has blue blue eyes, big hands, curls on the back of his hair, and a gentle spirit. Marian, Greg's mom, says he reminds her a lot of Greg. I can think of no greater compliment.

I love you Dane!

The little lady

At this moment, Aubrey is hobbling around the kitchen, praising Dane for his new walking skills. She is hobbling because four hours ago she tripped and got a rug burn on her leg the size of a penny.  To stop the wailing we drenched it in pain relieving spray (a gift from the hospital after the birth of one of our kids, thanks Sacred Heart) and put a band aid on it.  She has been limping ever since.  OH THE AGONY!  OH THE MISERY!  OH THE INDIGNITY OF A HORRIFIC INJURY!

On the other side, there she is, wounded knee and all, beaming and encouraging, and coaxing her little brother to walk.  He smiles more at her praise than he does from Greg and I.  He adores her.  One of their special activities is before Aubrey takes a nap but after Nathan is down, I bring Dane onto Aubrey's bed and they wrestle around.  She is gentle but fun and Dane giggles while she snuggles him and rolls him back and forth.  It has gotten to the point that when Aubrey heads to bed Dane crawls (or walks) as fast as he can to the bed, already smiling in anticipation.  

Being the oldest, Aubrey's personality seems the most complex.  She has had more time to develop her person and watching her become her own little self is so fun.  She is kind but willing to lay you out if you cross her line, she is cautious but shows a great ability to conquer her fears, she is loving but independent.  And she is my girl.  The wearer of tights and skirts and million dollar curls.

I love you Aubrey!

Naughty + Irresistable = Nathan

I thought in honor of the new year I'd take the next few days and high light each family member. I guess that's my way of saying that my New Year's resolution is to love and appreciate my family just the way they are. The age they are, the work they are, the fun they are, TODAY. As is says in Kung Foo Panda (go ahead, laugh amounts yourselves), "Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That's why it is called the present."

This is the way it works around here. Each kid seems to live in a cycle. They will be lovely, charming humans for weeks on end and then BAM, the cycle of stinkerhood begins. This lasts for a few weeks, during which time whom ever is putting me to task really lets me have it. I am forced to grind in my heels, discipline around the clock, and remind myself that on the other side awaits peace and a child who others will enjoy being around. The process nearly kills me every time. I am truly terrified to see what this cycle looks like on a 15 year old.

Nathan (I know, are you shocked?) is letting me have it right now. Without boring you with the details, let's just say that his name has switched from Nathan Paul to Nathan he-who-will-shout-and-and-scream-and-kick-and push-and-disobey-and-spill-and-dump-
and-trample-and-MAKE-AUBREY-SQUEAL Jones.

The last two days he has taken my last nerve and tap danced on it. BUT THEN Nathan, that naughty little boy, flexes his charm gene. The one that is woven into his very being and radiated through his smile. And oh, when he does it, ladies of the world swoon and men bow before his mightiness because he cannot be resisted. He is IRRESISTABLE. Kiss you until I chap your cheeks, forgive all wretched behavior, snuggle you to sleep IRRESISTABLE.

I guess all of this is to say that Nathan, while truly making me want to scream the past few days, has saved his life over and over again by one minute dumping brand new finger paint all over our table and floor to in the next minute saying sadly, "Mommy, where is my Daddy? I just miss him so much." This is one middle child that never allows himself to get forgotten.

Love you Nathan!