Growing Pains and Second Grade Fashion...

The boys continue to grow in their sleep. Each morning they seem more grown up to me than the last.

Take for instance....

Evan - Evan has become increasingly aware of his looks lately. He never leaves the house without combing his hair - and I don't even ask him to do it. He was in dire need of pants last week and I took him with me to make sure I got the right size. It's a good thing I did, because I would have bought all the wrong things. It's apparent that I know nothing about second grade fashion. I would give anything to have my kids attend a school that required uniforms, life would be so easy!
Evan's newly-acquired self-image awareness is even rubbing off on his brothers. Luke slicked his hair back before coming downstairs for breakfast. After eating I announced it was time for all short people to get dressed. Luke quickly protested, telling me his hair would get messed up if he took his pajama shirt off. I promised to help him take it off carefully. No good. We agreed on a fresh pair of pants and undies (leaving his pajama shirt and hair untouched) and went about our day. Pick your battles, I reminded myself. Pick your battles.
Derek and I had a standoff with Evan yesterday morning while getting him ready for school. It was snowing and we informed him that the hoodie he was wearing was not a sufficient coat for a wet spring snowstorm. Our conversation went something like this:

Derek- Evan, put your coat on.
Evan- No. I'm not wearing that coat. I don't like that coat. It's my worst coat EVER!
Me- Why is it your worst coat ever? I thought you liked that coat. You were with me when I bought it and you even helped me pick it out.
Evan- NUH-UH! YOU picked it out by yourself, and it makes me look like a first grader! It's a coat for babies and I'm not wearing it. (I searched my mental files and he was right. He was not with me when I purchased the coat. A mistake I vow never to make again.)
Derek- Evan, put your coat on NOW!
Me- Evan, winter is almost over. This may be the last time you ever have to wear it. We'll wash it up and it will be Luke's coat for next year. I promise to take you with me this fall and let you pick out a new winter coat.
Evan- FINE! (He puts the coat on and proceeds to the door)
Me- I love you.
Evan- (silence)
Derek- He said he loves you.
Evan- I did not! I didn't say anything!
Me- (thinking....ouch, that hurts.)

When he came home from school, I asked him two questions that had been eating at me all day long-

Me- Hey Ev, why is this coat a baby coat? It looks like a cool skater coat to me.
Evan- Because, Mom.....skater coats don't have hoods.
Me- Remember this morning when I told you I loved you? You didn't say anything back.
Evan- Oh yeah. I don't think I heard you. Love you, Mom.


Good to know, Good to know.

Post-Edit-Thanks to Lorie, for reminding me that Evan has always had a 'unique' sense of fashion. Here he is at age 2. Be sure to read what Auntie Lorie said on the comments page.

It's About Time!

A time to romp, a time to play.

In PJ's and sweats we'll stay all day.

The forecast is out, it's message is clear.

16 inches of snow soon will be here!

We brothers will wrestle, we'll do as we please.

Get dressed? NOT TODAY!

Homework? DON'T TEASE!

Our snow boots are lined up, our mittens are waiting.

Mom's baking cookies, a movie is playing.

We've waited all year, it's finally here!

Happy snow day to you!

Love,

The Olivas Crew!

Remember him?

A little birdie told me that my husband does not get enough air time on my blog.

(No, Derek was not the birdie...)

Thanks, little birdie, for reminding me that I should take pictures of people/objects other than my children.

For the record, let me state that every picture of me (and there are very few) was taken by one of the following:
A) My own super-elasticized and extended arm or

B) One of my children (these pictures are almost always deleted as they are frequently of my fanny)

Enjoy your air time, babe. You deserve it.

Birthday Blast!!

What a wonderful day......

Waffles, pancakes, sausage, bacon, eggs & hash browns for dinner - Luke's pick!


An awesome Spidey car!

Brothers to celebrate with.

Friends to share your cake with.

BFF's

A very special THANK YOU to the Gleason family for giving Luke's birthday the perfect ending.

Until next year....

3.24.04

March 24, 2004

5:32 PM

6 pounds, 5 ounces

20.5 inches

Luke Daniel Olivas

Baby Luke

Luke-Age 1

Luke-Age 2

Luke-Age 3

Luke-Age 4

Happy Birthday, Little Man!

We love you so very much!!

Love,

Mommy, Daddy, Evan, Jack, Logan & Wes

Brace Yourself...

I've taken 218 pictures since my camera has been sickly. Today I decided I would force my camera into submission and make it transfer my pictures to our computer. I tightly squeezed the USB cord into a ball in my fist. Then I plugged it in and promised to never hurt it again if it would kindly fork over my photos. I prayed for a miracle and a miracle happened. Good things don't usually come with anger and frustration.

Today must be my lucky day.

Here's a photo summary of our life the last few weeks. Prepare for picture overload. Feel free to X out at any point in which you've seen enough of my kids' mugs.

Batman made yet another appearance during breakfast the other morning. He swooped down to the kitchen table wearing his trusty cape and stripey undies. He flies faster without the added weight of pants.

Evan's favorite thing to do is lie in the crib with baby Wes and read to him. I love to listen to them. Evan is an amazing brother.

(PS-this monitor also doubles as a spy cam. I highly recommend it to all mothers with small children.)

Dear Gerber,

May I introduce your new baby.

Wes' favorite time of day. What a good mom. I painted a smiley on his 'privacy' (as the boys call it) so he won't be embarrassed should this picture one day find it's way to his high school yearbook.

Logan prefers to drink the water before it even enters the tub.


Big brother helping little brother with his new I-pod from Dee, Papa, Mommy & Daddy.


Jack told me the other day that 'We're best fwiends 'cuz we bowf have gween eyes'....he makes a great best friend.

Luke had a very in-depth discussion with a chicken at the farm last week. Not sure what they talked about, but it was serious, and I noticed the chicken interrupted more than once.

Logan at the farm. He preferred the donkey, but was confused to find that Shrek wasn't with his sidekick.

I love taking pictures like this and changing the color to sepia. You could have the world's most crappiest (my apologies to Pocky for saying crap) shot and it looks 100 times better if you change it to sepia. Unless of course you are my BFF, Lucy. In that case, you could be blindfolded and every picture turns out perfectly. You should see the pictures of her family's recent trip to the beach. (I'd post one here, but due to copyright infringement and a highly regarded friendship, I must ask for her permission first.) Lucy's photography business is taking off and she's only doing 2 shoots per month. Oh, how I wish she could somehow fit our family in this summer and take some candid shots of us with the Colorado scenery as a background.

Was that subtle enough?

Fabulous Friday!

It's Friday, which makes the day fabulous. The boys and I took a trip to the farm today to see the new baby lambs. We stood there gazing while a school group of about 30 kids commented on how cute they were. My children never uttered the word cute. Instead, they were quick to point out TO THE CROWD which lamb had the most poop on his fanny.

I swear. I can't take them anywhere.

We moved along the trail and found ourselves at the chicken coup, where a 'peacock couple' were dancing the mamba. The male fanned out his feathers and Jack shouted, "Hey Mom, know what he's saying?" "What, Jack?" I whispered (in an attempt to have him follow my lead). "He's tellin' da girl - OH MY GOSH, YOU'RE PWETTY!" Then Luke asked me why the girl peacocks look boring. To which I had no response. (No, Declan, I don't want to know your theory)

We had been there 10 minutes and Jack had to go to the bathroom. Being a MOM with two potty trained BOYS is no easy task. Although I was SO tempted to let him find a bush and go potty the old fashioned way (after all, we were on a farm), I resisted the urge and hurried all four boys inside to find the nearest bathroom. Once I found it, an employee stopped me and told me "a family bathroom would be better suited for my needs." She actually guarded the bathroom door and prevented me from entering while telling me how to get to the closest family bathroom. (Keep in mind that at this point, Jack is desperate. Through the glass doors, I can see the bushes and they're calling my name.) But, I reminded myself to set a good example for my sons and use the fricken family bathroom. As we trekked down the long hallway, I could hear the other Moms (who seemed to be meeting for their weekly playgroup gathering with their little girls) clapping in approval of the witch who refused to let a 3 year-old boy use the ladies room. OH, THE HORROR! They should be ashamed of themselves.

In case you're wondering, I think the word 'playgroup' also translates to:

A weekly gathering of local rude women who think their lives, clothing, strollers, sunglasses & children are perfect. A time to gather amongst other rude women and talk about how perfect your lives, clothing, strollers, sunglasses & children are. A time to point out and whisper about those who have lives, clothing, strollers, sunglasses & children LESS PERFECT than yours.

Moving on.....

I took some cute shots of my perfect children enjoying the farm, but they are on my less-than-perfect camera which is still unable to transfer my perfect pics to my perfect computer. I'll post them soon.

In the meantime, here are some Friday Flashback shots from March, 2006. Just look at these perfect children-

Perfect baby Jack

Perfect brothers (Jack and Luke)

Perfect friends (Luke and Evan)

Perfect mom with her perfect babes (Luke and Jack)

That's all for now. I'm off to find my perfect sunglasses and head to the bus stop.

Happy Friday Night Party Night!!

So Tell Me....

Do we share the same view?

PS-If you're looking to find what happened with the Leprechaun, you'll have to read all about it on Evan's blog. He hasn't posted anything yet, but he will, and I promised him I wouldn't steal his blogging thunder.

Try To Resist THIS!

Luke and Jack just helped me bake this cake to tempt the Leprechaun who visits our house each year. He's famous for ransacking our house, tipping over chairs and leaving a trail of golden shimmers behind. (He also leaves a little treat for each boy)

This morning, we formulated a new plan. That's right, folks, we're building a trap when Evan gets home from school. We made a scrumptious chocolate cake, with a shamrock in the center. When the Leprechaun moves in to take a bite, we'll quickly trap him and his gold will be ours!

Tune in tomorrow to see if we were successful...

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Wishing you a rainbow

For sunlight after showers.

Miles and miles of Irish smiles

For golden happy hours.

Shamrocks at your doorway,

For luck and laughter too.

And a host of friends that never ends

Each day your whole life through!

My Little Leprechauns-

(The three well-behaved children)

And the two who refuse to cooperate-

Slip Into My Shoes.

Dear Vera Wang,

For Christmas my husband bought me a lovely pair of slippers designed by you. He found them at Kohl's and paid the designer sticker price of $14.99 for them. A definite splurge for us.

Imagine my surprise when I opened my gift and saw these darling Mary Jane's-

It's been roughly 10 weeks since Christmas, and I've happily worn them every day since. That's where I went wrong. Here's a picture of my beloved slippers today-

Apparently, your shoes are made for moms like this-

Or for moms who sit on the couch all day eating these-

(Don't get me wrong, I love bon bons, but don't have time to eat them.)

I'm not that type of mom. I use my feet to walk. I also use my feet to chase, sprint, leap, and dance with my boys. My day is filled with constant motion.

I wish I could be more like her-

I wish I wore aprons and high heals on a daily basis. I wish my house was always perfectly clean, and dinner was hot and ready when my darling arrived home from work. However, I'd quickly forgo all the above wishes to have my boys listen attentively to me like Wally and The Beav.

This picture best reflects my offspring-

Are you catching my drift? I think your slippers should come equipped with a sticker on the box that looks like this-

Then 'real' moms like moi wouldn't have to resort to duct taping their soles.

Please accept this invitation Vera Wang, to spend one day at my house.

I have a pair of your slippers waiting for you.

I'll even provide the duct tape.

Sincerely,

Amy

(a real mom)

We Proudly Announce...

Friday Night Party Night's Newest Member,

LOGAN.

He's on our bed as I type, crunching through his second bowl of Jiffy Pop.

Tonight's movie is Star Wars Attack Of The Clones.

Not sure he'll be granted an invitation to stay all night long, but for now he's fitting right in.

May the force be with us.

PS-Why does it seem as if my children are the only kids who insist on 'tagging' their skin with markers, paint, and other miscellaneous art supplies? We do have paper in the house, and I encourage them to use it.

Comments?

Suggestions?

Let's have an open forum...

(As always, happy Friday Night Party Night!)

March, 2005

Derek has spent several hours over the past few days backing up all of our pictures from our old computer. I think we have around 6000 or so. I have spent most of today reminiscing.

Here's a look at our family in March of 2005.

Can you believe it? We only had two kids! This picture was taken on Easter Sunday. Derek flew out later that afternoon for a two-week business trip to Australia, New Zealand and Hawaii. What horrible places to have clientele!

Now it's time to vote. I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow. I'd like to lighten things up a bit. I'm also trying to grow my hair back out. I've had SEVERAL hairstyles over the past few years. Tell me what you think I should do....I need advice. To color or not to color. To cut or not to cut.

That is the question.......

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, B!

Happy 4th birthday, cousin!

We wanted to share with you our top 4 favorite things about YOU!

You are really great when it comes to dancing in the dark with light sticks. Truthfully, you are really great at dancing anytime (with or without light sticks). You have moves that would make Michael Jackson burst with jealousy.

Bath time just isn't exciting without you. We won't go into further detail, but you know what we're referring to, right?

You are SO MUCH FUN to play with. Whenever our Mom says we can invite a friend over for a play date, our first choice is you. Can you come over this Saturday and drive jeeps with us?

Last but not least (but maybe most importantly), your sense of style exceeds your Dad's. You always look like you just finished modeling in a Gap commercial. Your Dad, however, well....he looks like he just walked off the set of a really bad Chevy Chase movie (think Christmas Vacation). There will come a day when he'll try to hand it down to you. Stand up for yourself, Braden. Don't ever let him force you into wearing his Christmas sweater.

YOU

YOUR DAD

Happy birthday, buddy. We love you.
Your Pals,

Evan, Luke, Jack, Logan & Wes

Message In A Bottle...

Let's pretend I'm stranded on an island. Try your best to envision someplace warm, with clean drinking water, sand that could easily be mistaken for sugar, fresh fruit, and no spiders or bugs.

Is that too much to ask?

Now pretend you just opened my message in a bottle from the other side of the ocean. Here's what you'd find:

Hello. My name is Amy. I'm in desperate need of sleep and sanity, so I'm taking a short hiatus from home. Yesterday my son had surgery. At 3AM this morning, his anesthesia wore off. He wanted 'chocca milk', he wanted to wrestle, he jumped on our bed and demanded cereal. In doing so, he woke a brother, who also demanded cereal. Then they merged into one strong team and together, they demanded a movie. There they sat, perfectly content (in MY room) and enjoyed their moonlight movie and bowl of Kix. The brother went back to sleep, Logan did not.

I'm running on empty. I gave up all pop (or soda as you Californians call it) for Lent. If only I could have just one Pepsi right now. That would be all I need to gather enough energy to wipe up the squashed banana off my floor, clear my staircase so that one no longer has the task of dodging miscellaneous items in order to utilize it, or complete a multitude of other tedious chores. Surely God would see it my way. I need a Pepsi.

My son, Logan, hung from our kitchen blinds this morning and ripped them in half. I'd attach a picture to this letter, but my camera is not in working order, so you'll just have to do your best to imagine it. Seeing as we can't afford new blinds, I had to resort to hanging a sheet in the window. Much like the house I made fun of as I drove past last week. Dear God, I promise never to make fun of others again.

There you have it. That's just a small synopsis of my daily cup of normalcy. That's what brought me to this island.

So here I sit in the warm sun, and there you sit reading my SOS. Promise me one thing:

Don't start the search too quickly.

Love,
Amy

Surgery...

Logan had surgery this morning to remove a cyst from the side of his head. (Evan had the same surgery when he was two years old) We arrived at the hospital at 6:00 AM. We got checked in and waited a long two hours before they were ready to begin. Logan wasn't happy about being there. He's at the age where he can smell a hospital/Dr's office from a mile away, and he prefers to stay clear! They changed him into the cutest hospital gown I'd ever seen. (I tried to accidentally pack it into our take-home bag, but I was unsuccessful.) They allowed one parent to accompany him into the operating room. Was it even up for discussion? I think not! This was a job for Mommy. I had to dress just like a DR with full scrubs, booties covering my shoes, and a cute little hair net.

I looked super official.

We walked into the OR, and the anesthesiologist did his best to get Logan to breath the 'night night air' from the mask. Yeah, right. "Does he like chocolate, Mom?" The anesthesiologist asked. "Doesn't everyone?" I replied. Soon the DR was 'scenting' Logan's mask with the lovely smell of cocoa. Now he was interested. After a few squirms and only five deep breaths, he was off to la la land. I gave him a kiss and was quickly ushered into the waiting room.

Less than 30 minutes later, the DR came out and told us things couldn't have been more perfect. Another 10 minutes passed, and we were reunited with our groggy little man. It took him a while to wake up from his meds, but once he did, he was his usual demanding self. "Popsicle!" He shrieked. I've never seen a nurse run so fast. This kid knows how to get what he wants. He devoured his popsicle, they removed his IV, and we were on our way back home, where his four (very worried) brothers awaited his arrival.

A very happy ending, indeed.

Here are a few pics. They are horrible quality (taken from my phone since my camera is still down and out).

Waiting for things to begin. Watching Shrek to pass the time.

Eating the popsicle he demanded....and not wasting a drop. They had his left arm splinted in a cast to keep him from pulling his IV out. It was a smiley face cast....this was one stylin' hospital!

Going home. Not a moment too soon.

Snug as a bug in a rug (at home in his very own bed) with the new Buzz Lightyear from Dee and Papa. Surgery isn't so bad after all.