She Ain't Colorblind

One of Zannah's quirks lately is to separate all things into various colors and shapes. And if you'll notice in the last picture, all beads are separated by shape except her beloved blue beads. She would have everything in this world blue if she could.

Funny things she has said as of late:

"Marcos, don't yeave me" she screams as he leaves for work.

"Yook, yook, yook in my face.

"Be careful with my teeth mommy, if they come out, I will be a baby."

"You have a beautiful nose mommy" as she is lying in my lap and caressing my nose.

"What's the big idea."

And the most recent and said most often in a commanding tone, "Oh Yeah, What about it!"

So my kids are naked 90% of the time.

"Oh yeah, What about it!" :)

Far From Perfect I Am

For journaling sake, I must record the following incident yesterday, judge me if you must, but keep it to yourself, I've already shed more than one tear over the situation.


Marcus has been traveling a lot lately and I'm learning that the real single moms in the world should be applauded and kissed and have their feet rubbed. Sunday, as you know with small kids, is a day of trying not to curse during church and applying large amounts of deodorant before, during, and after the 3 hour block. The Z-meister had been in a mood all the day long. I decided we needed a break from the house so we headed to the park. While there she decided to bully two girls at least 5 years older than her by knocking over there sandcastles and then moved onto stealing a teenager's bottle of water and making a run for it. Maybe she wasn't being a bully, maybe she was just shooting for annoying, either way it was embarrassing, so we headed home. Once home, she emptied a brand new box of cheerios onto Max's highchair and floor. I kept my cool and cleaned most of them up, but explained that she would have to help clean up the rest. She refused. I then lost my cool and spanked her and took her up to her room. She cried. And I cried. I felt like an abusive, rotten, mean ole' hag. That is not who I want to be, I really don't believe spanking does any good, but goodness me, I'm far from perfect, especially in the temper arena.


Zannah stopped crying and came out of her room. Sweetly and innocently she says to me, "Mom, I fink you are mad at me." And then I laughed and cried again. Oh how that girl tries me and I love her all the fiercer for it.

Easter Weekend

Z loved hunting for eggs. This is Damon discovering cat poo in one of his Easter eggs at our family egg hunt. Lex should win an "uncle of the year" award.

Angela and I hid Easter eggs for the boys, they spurned our creativity until they learned there was money involved.
Which quickly turned into a wrestling match.

Branding was scheduled for Saturday afternoon. Max got his first horse ride.

While Zannah got her first kick from a horse (no pic from that incident). And we witnessed the first ever afternoon of a very somber Z, it scared her and us to death. Luckily all is fine and maybe it put a little fear into an otherwise fearless little girl.

Regrets

Memory Monday~

I hate regrets. Like the time Bippo the Hippo came to my kindergarten class to teach us how to brush our teeth and he chose me to get up and dance with him and I was too shy and said no. That has always bugged me. Really.


Some things I shied away from because I wasn't easily good at it or my friends weren't doing it. For instance, I grew up on a cattle ranch. You would think I would be a horse-whisperer or something. I'm pretty sure I could saddle one if needs be, but I didn't invest much time or effort in that arena.


I always ran track, hurdles, specifically. I had "my nerves are out of control" diahrrea before, during and after each track meet. A whiff of rubber from a track during springtime makes me want to find a wastebasket. My friends did it and the bus rides were fun and those two categories ruled my high school brain.


I've always thought that if I could go back and re-choose how I spent some of my time, I would choose to rope and ride (just like Toby Keith's song). During highschool, my dad bought a horse named Rita. He said she was for me. I mounted and started riding in the field behind our house and she took off. No matter how hard I pulled on the reins, she kept full-on sprinting to what I knew was going to be my death. I finally got her slowed down and made it back to the barnyard. I was not just scared, I was bawling and in hysterics. I started walking to the house vowing to never look at Rita again. My dad made me get back on.....that was not an easy battle I assure you. But, it was too late. I didn't feel super comfortable atop a horse. I wish I had been bolder and braver. I wish I had taken advantage of what was right outside my door.

The Maxster is One

He captured my heart the second I first saw him and he hasn't stopped since.




Yes, he really did lick his plate clean.

Crazy kiddos and less comparisons

(Mascara mishap)


(Z started gymnastics)


(Literally still on the phone with grandma, even after the crash)

(Max and cousin Andrew)
Comparisons are the worst. Comparing myself to others never made me happy, and comparing my kids to other kids is just as bad. I have left playgroups feeling lousy because Z didn't behave as well as other kids or Max isn't crawling as well as so and so, etc. So Z has mucho energy and I can't keep her off the top of our vehicles or from sneaking out the front door or from sneaking worms up into our rooms. What if Max loves the army crawl more than the normal crawl. I'm choosing to embrace it. Eat that.



What I know is: I'm one lucky Mama.

The truth hurts

Zannah and her friend Brayli were having a conversation which I didn't understand or catch the first half of, but it ended with Brayli giving Z the hardcore truth:
"Zannah, your mom is very mean to you." And let me tell you, the recipient didn't appear to be shocked with the news.


Today, Z, with one hand on her hip and the other hand pointing to me, said, "You go to time-out, you are a pain in my neck today."

I swear I have never told her she is a pain in my neck. On the other hand, "time-out" is in almost every other sentence I speak. Yikes, I hope my "how to deal with strong-willed children" books I ordered from Amazon get here soon.