It's almost that time of year...

If you're starting to think about Christmas cards this year (or if it hasn't even crossed your mind), check out inkish designs!

I'll be adding designs between now and Thanksgiving, but there's some good stuff there!

Thanks!

One Year Olds

Take a guess- which babe is which?

It's probably obvious, but there are some similarities!

Teah's Perfect Smore

you're killing me, Smalls! These are smores stuff.

All right, now pay attention.

First you take the graham, you stick the chocolate on the graham.

Then you roast the mallow.

When the mallow's flaming...

you stick it on the chocolate.

Then cover with the other end.

Then you scarf.

Kind of messy, but good!

Journal Entry

Wednesday, June 2, 2010 12:23am

I hear a cry coming from upstairs, then a cry coming down the stairs. It’s Havi and it can only mean one thing. I hurry to the stairs to help her and make my mistake- I pick her up. She held it in while she was walking, but as soon as I grabbed her and walked briskly to the bathroom, she lost control. Pee all over my pajama shirt and down my side. “It’s coming!” She cries. I put her down and there was soon a puddle on the floor. I helped her get her pajama pants down and sit on the toilet, but that was mostly just to get her out of the mess. Loud crying, smelly pee, midnight mess. I leave her on the toilet, start cleaning up the puddles and let her know I’m not mad at her. We have a little talk about whether she really went to the bathroom before bed like she said/still says she did... some doubt, but I mostly believe her. She finally stops crying, I get her wet pajama pants off her and start a load of laundry then get her some clean panties and shorts. I hand them to her to put on, help her to a clean spot in my room and turn to stick my legs in the shower when I hear her sleepy raspy voice singing “...so freakin’ bad”. I turn around and she’s sitting there naked, figuring out the panties. I say, “Havi, what are you singing?” She says, “That song- ‘I want to be a billionaire, so freakin’ bad...’”. Really. I go finish what I was doing shaking my head and smiling, then come back 45 seconds later and she is cuddled up on our decoration pillow pile on the floor perfectly, comfortably, asleep with a happy smile on her face and her hands together between her cheek and the pillow. Unbelievable girl.

I dream of Mini

Minivans, that is.

Yes, the vehicle of my dreams right now is a minivan.

Ah, the seating space. Ah, the storage capabilities. Ah, the sliding doors... one push of a button and they open!

Before Eden was born, we wondered if three car seats would even fit in the back of our cute little Corolla. Obviously they do, but not without complains daily. Teah can hardly fit her fingers down to buckle herself in her booster. Havi often gets jostled when I close the door. it sometimes takes a couple tries to get it closed. I don't even want to talk about the Kindergarten carpool. all I can say is that it's just a couple blocks on residential roads and I don't go more than 20mph.

I used to have some of those feet stickers on the back of my car window, and they're gone now for a couple reasons--

1. I get it, it's not so cool anymore if it ever was.

2. I really don't want FIVE pairs of toes telling everyone exactly how many Montaños are crammed in this car. if we were closer to Mexico, border patrol might think we're trying to smuggle people across.

I know my generation is supposed to hate minivans with a vengeance, and I used to, but practicality and three car seats have brought me a change of heart. I've exchanged sins- pride for envy. Yes, I now envy all those lucky people out there with sliding doors that open with a push of a button, cargo space, seating for seven or eight... ahhh.

So if you ever see me driving around in a minivan with a HUGE smile on my face, you'll get it. Besides, April drives a minivan, and really, who doesn't want to be like April?

confession

When I'm running outside and I see that I'm going to cross paths with another runner, I speed up. If I see that the other runner is female, it's even worse.

I'm really not a fast runner, I've never claimed to be, so I don't know who I'm trying to impress. I have got to let go of some of this competitive spirit.

dabbling

The baby. (for you, B)

Her 'thing' is: one thumb in her mouth, one thumb in my mouth. She does this when she's tired.

Two problems:

1) my girls' wardrobes were needy.

2) Grandma's sewing machine was feeling lonely and neglected.

One solution: these dresses!