*Twilight*
I recently started reading Twilight. Yes, I have caved into the Twilight phenomenon and I now understand what all the fuss is about. I love it! I haven't ever been much of a reader but this book has captured me. I'm half way through and I'm was really crushing on Edward Cullen and being the Facebook junkie that I am, I posted it as my status:
"Sabrina has started reading Twilight and is now crushing on Edward Cullen"
Ha ha. Jeff wasn't too happy when he saw this, so I quickly took it down. But the truth is, Edwards got nothing on Jeff.
We were in 9th grade and I had just moved from Provo to Orem. I was shy and out of my element. Even though there's only a few minutes between Provo and Orem they seemed to be a world part. I was lucky enough to have four of my eight classes with Jeff, who was some what of a class clown. He was always so funny, and could always make me laugh, but his beautiful blue (sometimes green or hazel) eyes lured me in. Jeff was my Edward.
He was the one that took my breath away when he smiled at me. The one that haunted my dreams every night. The one that would make my knees weak when he reached for my hand. When he kissed me he brought a flutter of butterflies into my stomach that came out through nervous giggles. My unsteady knees would make my body quake, but then he'd hold me and the nervous little shakes would ease. I was safe in his arms.
Now 12 years later the feeling is still the same, though I been able to tame those butterflies a little. Those feelings of nervousness have been replaced with overwhelming love and admiration for the man that he has become. I love Jeff with all my heart. He is my dream come true. My best friend, my confidant,and my rock during unsteady times. He is the man that I will proudly stand next to my entire life.
"Sabrina has started reading Twilight and is now crushing on Edward Cullen"
Ha ha. Jeff wasn't too happy when he saw this, so I quickly took it down. But the truth is, Edwards got nothing on Jeff.
We were in 9th grade and I had just moved from Provo to Orem. I was shy and out of my element. Even though there's only a few minutes between Provo and Orem they seemed to be a world part. I was lucky enough to have four of my eight classes with Jeff, who was some what of a class clown. He was always so funny, and could always make me laugh, but his beautiful blue (sometimes green or hazel) eyes lured me in. Jeff was my Edward.
He was the one that took my breath away when he smiled at me. The one that haunted my dreams every night. The one that would make my knees weak when he reached for my hand. When he kissed me he brought a flutter of butterflies into my stomach that came out through nervous giggles. My unsteady knees would make my body quake, but then he'd hold me and the nervous little shakes would ease. I was safe in his arms.
Now 12 years later the feeling is still the same, though I been able to tame those butterflies a little. Those feelings of nervousness have been replaced with overwhelming love and admiration for the man that he has become. I love Jeff with all my heart. He is my dream come true. My best friend, my confidant,and my rock during unsteady times. He is the man that I will proudly stand next to my entire life.
What a big boy!
Big brown eyes gleaming with pride, as he waddles through the door wearing nothing but a diaper, a smile and Brayden's ski's. "Look me, look me!" I could have died! My baby boy is growing up. Cohen doesn't say too much. Hi, bye, down, out, ma, dadda, babba, no, and he nods or shakes his head. He hadn't put words together until today. I was so proud but also sad that my youngest baby won't be a baby much longer. Man, they grow up too fast. Slow down guys and let me take it all in.
"I kicked your butt Mom!"
Today Brayden, Ayelen, and I were playing Wii Fit. It was so much fun and we were really getting into it. Brayden and I raced and I started telling him, "Wow buddy! You're really kicking my butt!" So we finished the race, Brayden won and I sat down for a quick breather when Brayden said "Up mom, stand up". I stood up, he climbed on the couch behind me and he literally kicked my butt! "I kicked your butt mom!" LOL. But we won't let him now how funny I thought it was. I had to hold it in and let it him know we don't kick people's butt and mommy won't say " I kicked your butt" anymore.
HEY JUDE
Jude Gabriel Haven Brown was born on February 19th, 2009 at 3:54PM at LakeView Hospital in Bountiful, Utah. Weighing 6 pounds 4 ounces and 20 inches long, with a head full of brown hair. Mom, Maggie, is doing very well. Seconds after giving birth she said she would like to do it again 4 more times. The look on Jamie's face when hearing this, was priceless. I was there at their side coaching them though it, this being my first time on the other end. It was such a beautiful and spiritual experience and I'm so grateful that Maggie and Jamie choose to include me in it .
Though Maggie was scheduled to be induced on the 23rd, a week before the due date, Jude decided that wasn't soon enough. Maggie's water broken at 4:30 Thursday morning waking her from a deep sleep. The anticipation had been building for quite some time, 9 months to be exact, and they were more than ready to hold little Jude in their arms. 11 hours, 24 minutes, and 10 pushes later, Jude had arrive wiggling his little hands up in the air. I think even he was celebrating his arrival.
We are all very happy for Maggie and Jamie. They are so beautiful together and we are all very much aware of the love they share. We wish them the very best. We love you Maggie, Jamie and Jude.
I'd also like to thank Daddy, David and Scott for taking care of Ayelen, Brayden and Cohen so that I could be at Maggie's side. It meant a lot to me to be able to be with my baby sister when she needed me. I couldn't 'have been able to if it wasn't for all you men. Thank you!
For all us moms.
WHY DON'T FRIENDS WITH KIDS HAVE TIME?
Tell Me About It by Carolyn Hax
● Carolyn:
My best friend has a child. Her: Exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc. Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group . . .
OK. I've done Internet searches; I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please, no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners. . . . I do all those things, too, and I don't do them every day. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day, and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail?
I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events), and I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy — not a bad thing at all — but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth?
Is this a contest ("My life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids, and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions.
— Tacoma, Wash.
Relax and enjoy. You're funny.
Or you're lying about having friends with kids.
Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.
Internet searches?
I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand — while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom friends are either lying or competing with you — is disingenuous indeed.
So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries and questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.
It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.
It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.
It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family members and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting the constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.
It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything — language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity, empathy. Everything.
It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy — and then when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, you wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend — a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends or marvel at how much more productively she uses her time.
Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.
Tell Me About It by Carolyn Hax
● Carolyn:
My best friend has a child. Her: Exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc. Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group . . .
OK. I've done Internet searches; I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please, no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners. . . . I do all those things, too, and I don't do them every day. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day, and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail?
I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events), and I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy — not a bad thing at all — but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth?
Is this a contest ("My life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids, and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions.
— Tacoma, Wash.
Relax and enjoy. You're funny.
Or you're lying about having friends with kids.
Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.
Internet searches?
I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand — while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom friends are either lying or competing with you — is disingenuous indeed.
So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries and questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.
It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.
It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.
It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family members and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting the constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.
It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything — language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity, empathy. Everything.
It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy — and then when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, you wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend — a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends or marvel at how much more productively she uses her time.
Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.
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