Make a Wish

So, I'm not one to make a big deal about my birthday.


Ha! I couldn't even type that with a straight face. When it comes to birthdays, I am like a five year old kid. I get giddy, I think the entire day should be about me, and I look for little birthday surprises around every corner. I blame my mom. This is what birthdays were when I was growing up, and my 30 year old body doesn't know any different. And I love that.

I have three wishes for my birthday this year, and I don't think that's asking too much. None of them cost money and these three simple things would guarantee me a fantabulous birthday. Two of these you have no control over, but one of them you do.

My first wish is the same thing I wish for every year, and I always get it: A beautiful, warm, sunny spring day. However, this is the first year I've talked about it before my birthday instead of on it, so knowing me I probably just completely jinxed myself.

My second wish would not normally be something I would even think about on my birthday but due to events that occurred on my previous birthday it has made the list. I wish for a puke-free birthday. No sickies whatsoever, but specifically no vomit. That would make for one stellar birthday in my opinion.

And finally, my third wish. This is for you to grant. Yes, you. I decided that for my birthday I would love, let me repeat, LOVE to get as many comments as I possibly can. This means:

a) A comment from those of you that I know are reading and have never commented (and I know you are because many of you have told me). Let me know you're here!!

b) A comment from all of my faithful commenters, and.....

c) As many comments as you feel so inclined to leave me. The more the merrier.

It doesn't matter what you say, just comment, and please, don't be anonymous, because I want to know who you are.

And that's it. That's how you can make 1/3 of this girl's birthday wishes come true. It's all in your hands. On Friday, May 15th, I will do some kind of post and that is the day I would love the comments. (Not this post, although of course I always love comments.)

Aren't birthdays the best?!

Birds, Bees, and Believing

No Teaser Tuesday this week. Sorry, Ashleys. Hopefully next week.



Lately I've been feeling contemplative. I have sensed a difference in the direction my blog posts have taken recently. I've noticed that it works like that for me. Instead of daily mood changes, I go in spurts that can last months. When Twilight hit theaters last fall, it was almost impossible to blog about anything that wasn't Twilight-related. Then, last summer, when Bill was working and I was alone at night I was very dark and depressing and it was hard to do fun, happy posts. Anyway, my point is, lately I've been contemplative. Things seem to be happening in my life that put me in a state of awe and wonder and I can't seem to stop thinking about life in general and how it is constantly changing. I know....deep.

So, my baby girl recently turned eight, the age of accountability. I'm about to turn thirty, as I mentioned yesterday, the age of the "grown-ups." Payson is almost six, which is like, a kid. Where did my baby go?

It's like the Perfect Storm. With these three milestone ages all hitting around the same time, suddenly we're dealing with very grown-up things and I feel like I've wandered unknowingly into another dimension. First came this conversation last week. Then, yesterday, two conversations took place that rocked my world. First, that same little curious boy asked me how his newest baby cousin "came out." Although I had little hope that I'd get away with it, I answered that "the doctor took it out." But my almost six year old has reached the age where vague, non-answers aren't cutting it, and he needed to know not only exactly how the doctor took it out, but where it came out of. After his questions last week, and now grilling me about this, I knew it was time for real answers, although I never would have guessed in a million years I'd be having this conversation with my five year old boy, before my 8 year old girl. But he is asking a lot more questions than she is. So...I had to tell him, and believe me, hearing the words come out of my own mouth was very, very strange. But the look on his face was priceless.

Then, Macy came home from school and asked the second worst question for a parent to hear: "Is Santa Clause really real?" Boy, was I not expecting that one. She said that a lot of kids at school don't think he's real and she just really wanted to know the real truth. That last part got me. I knew I had to tell her. I can never deny my children the truth if they genuinely ask for it. If I thought she was asking with the hopes of being told what she wanted to hear, I might have tried to keep it going, but the way she worded it, I knew she wanted the truth, even if it hurt her. There were littler ears around at the time so I told her we'd talk about it later (which probably could have been her first clue to the answer she would get, but I guess an 8 year old doesn't pick up on things like that). She asked twice more after that, more proof she was ready to know the truth. When I put her to bed, she asked again, and I called her dad in (she may have started to suspect at this point) and told him she wanted the truth, and he gave me the signal that he agreed she deserved it, so we told her. She laughed. Laughed. I have dreaded this moment her whole life, not because I would be robbed of that magic at Christmastime but that she would be broken-hearted and feel betrayed and question her trust in us. And when the time came, she laughed. "It makes me laugh to think that people still believe it when it's not true," she said. Uh....like you, 30 seconds ago? But I was sooooo relieved and proceeded to tell her about the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny as well. She laughed some more, especially at the thought of me and Daddy tiptoeing into her room at night and trying to wedge our hands under her pillow. I could tell she felt very grown up at knowing the "secret" and excited to help keep it for her little brother. It was actually a very bonding moment between us.

Soon (very soon, I am guessing) I'll be buying her her first bra and actually having to explain what the "special hug" is. (Which, btw, is a complete joke, we don't really call it that.) And having to tell Payson that there are nicer ways to show a girl you like her than by punching her. It's all just happening so fast. Too fast. It's so true what they say about raising kids: Don't blink, or you'll miss it.

Thinking About...

*Mother's Day. Spoiled rotten by husband, doted on by kids, loved every second of it. Perfection.

*Fabulous weekend. Eating out, watching movies, yard work, eating ice cream, sleeping in, hanging with friends.

*Fashion. Realizing the trend is NOT to match. Struggling to adapt.

*Diet. Working hard (with the exception of aforementioned eating out and ice cream), seeing results. Changing perception of myself. Loving it.

*Friends. Wonderful new ones, cherished old ones. Silver and gold.

*Blessings. My cup runneth over.

*Turning 30. Still feeling 15.

Jaspurr

Since the sweet cuddly kitten phase didn't last long, I'm grateful that Jasper ended up having a fun personality. So that I still love him when he's drawing blood and making my kids cry. He sleeps in the funniest positions and he is overly fond of enclosed spaces and being covered up...like, completely.

As a young kitten he was super curious about the computer. He always had to see what was on the screen and never failed to crawl onto the keys and fall asleep. That was adorable for about five minutes.

I can't keep him out of the dryer, even when I'm throwing wet clothes on top of him.

Michael Jordan's got nothin' on him. You whip a ribbon through the air, and this cat defies gravity.

Our own little version of The Brady Bunch

He could care less that he outgrew his cat bed a month ago. It's still his sleeping place of choice.

Just yesterday he burrowed under Payson's backpack for a nap.

He also:

• Works his way up the side of our bed, between the sheets, and takes a nap under the covers. Makes for a fun game of "Where the heck is Jasper?!"
• Is a complete water snob. He won't drink out of his cat water bowl, but meows at the sink until I fill up a Tupperware container full of fresh, cold water for him.
• Is obsessed with our linen closet. It doesn't matter where he is in the house, if he hears the door open he is over there and up onto a shelf faster than you can say "aw crap." The only way to get him out is to bribe him with treats.
• Bites our hands, then licks them real quick, to make sure we know he was just playing and not really attacking us.
• Has a secret hideout under our bed, where he pulled the fabric cover off the box spring. He goes there when I vacuum and when we get mad at him, and I am highly suspicious that if I were to check under there, I would find several things that I am missing.

It's hard to remember what life was like before Jasper.

Say What?

Conversation at our house night before last:

Payson: "How do babies get in tummies?"

Silence.

Bill: "Uhhhh......."

Macy: "Yeah, how do they?"

Me: "Ummmm.....remember we told you Heavenly Father puts the babies in the mommies' tummies?"

Payson: "But, do you just ask Him?"

Bill, under his breath to me: "Yeah, or you're just reckless."

Macy: "Yeah, do you just pray? Or do you say out loud 'I wanna baby?' "

Bill, laughing: "See, there's this 'special hug'...."

Me, intercepting: "There's something special that mommies and daddies have to do when they're ready, that we'll tell you about when you're a little bit older."

Macy: "Like when I'm ten? Cause I'm ten in two years."

Me: "Sure, when you're ten." Or twenty, whatever.

Teaser Tuesday

I felt like a mouse running through one of those cardboard mazes. I didn’t have to think about anything I did. My body just…went. The difference was that, unlike the mouse, there was no hunk of cheese waiting for me at the end. No reward of any kind for making it through. In fact, there was no end at all.

© A. Leppert 2009

It's Great To Be Eight

On Saturday Macy become an official member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. She was giddy with excitement to be baptized.

I got a little verklempt watching Bill baptize my baby girl in the same font that I was baptized in 21 years ago. (BTW, he is wearing socks. He doesn't have albino feet.)

It was so awesome that Macy got to be baptized with two of her friends. These three are in the same church class and the same class at school.

Chandler, Kenzie, and Macy

It was such a special day made even more special by the friends and family who came to support Macy. Thank you all!