Macisms

Mac is at such a fun age.  Especially when it comes to explaining things. 

Like tithing.

Mac:  "This money is for Jesus.  It needs to go way up high in the sky.  Maybe it just needs some pixie dust."

There are many other things done "up".  For example, as he looks at a wedding picture of ours, he says, "That's where you and dad got all married up."

Or during dinner, "Hey look, thems all cooked up."

Or when drawing, "Uh oh, it got all erased up!"

The other day I was sewing.  Mac wanted to help.  He said, "Mom, c'mon, lets go help our Cinderelly."

He's also teaching me a lot about myself.  As in, do I really say that all the time? 

For example, we were cleaning up the putting green out back.  Mac has some shells in the dirt that he has collected from the beach, and they were everywhere.  I was sweeping along, unconsciously ignoring him, when I suddenly registered him saying: "Mom, hey!  Be a good listener.  Now these are your choices.  I break the shells, or I hide them.  What do you chose?"

He also gives me a breakdown of minutes.  That boy will do about anything if we prep him with a countdown, so all day long I hear, "Mom, we have ___ many minutes left."

And he is finally into singing.  Most frequently it's "Take Me Out to the Ballgame", but he'll surprise me with knowing the words to many of my songs as well.  The other day I caught him singing along to "You and I" by Ingrid Michaelson.  

Also, nothing makes this boy groove like "Cha Cha Slide".  There are some serious dance parties at our house these days.

LDS General Conference

Oh how I love General Conference.

It is a time to hear the Word of God through our modern-day prophets.  To soak in the revelation and love of our incredible female leaders.  To fill my home with the Spirit, my mind with perspective, and my soul with peace.

Of course ... all that becomes interesting when you add a 3 year old and 1 year old.  I tried to prep this year however, and we followed the counsel found in Mosiah 2:6.  We faced our tents toward the prophets.

And you know what, it went pretty smoothly.  For the first session at least.

The following three consisted of more hollering, wrecking, shushing, and frustration ... but the effort was there, their voices were turned up loud, and my children learned that when the prophets speak, our family will listen.

Or at least be persistent in trying.

Sports Class

I finally got the guts to sign Mac up for his first official class.

I've been tempted before, but always felt that he would shy away from whatever the group was doing and money spent on a class would be wasted.

However, his little preschool has gotten him out of his comfort zone, and I felt like he might be ready to participate.

So, he's now in a "Tiny Tots Sports Class"

Once a week, they get together with about 15 other 3-5 year old kids and learn the basics of a new sport each time.

His first day, Mac discovered they were not doing baseball.  This about did him in.  Soccer?  Who has any interest in soccer?  Well I can tell you I've seen Mac play soccer with Mark, Grandma, and countless cousins.  He can do it.  But apparently, the sport wasn't enticing enough to coax him out of his shell and he clung to my neck for the first 10 minutes of class.

But then his team decided to do a warm-up lap around the field.  His little friends wanted to race.  I did too.

By the end of the lap, he was laughing and sprinting.  It took about another ten minutes of me standing directly behind him while he learned how to pass a soccer ball to his teammates ... and after that, he never looked back.

Now he looks forward to "Sports Day" every week.
"Mom," he tells me, "today I am going to be so fast.  And listen to my coaches."

And I tell you what ... I may be biased, but even being one of the youngest in his class, the boy can play.  Coordination is on his side.

Pretty sure he gets that from his father.

The girls' favorite part is undoubtedly Gizmo the one-eyed dog.

We are all fans of Sports Day.

Gunn Clan Easter

The day my aunt and family left, I got a phone call from my sister-in-law Danika.

They were coming to spend Easter with us!

And so we quick, washed the sheets, scrubbed down the bathroom, and prepped for our next round of visitors.  Mac commented, "Mom, I love it when friends sleep at my house."

Indeed, it was so good to have them.

Mac was glued to Abe's side.  Lia, Hazel, and Olive showed Belle the finer art of pretend play and had a ball together.

Danika and I?  Oh you know, we solved the world's problems with our infinite wisdom.  And agreed that "Baby Mama" is an all-time classic.

Naturally, we hit the beach.  (Unfortunately freezing, but nothing that couldn't be enjoyed in sweats.)  And Danika, who has no interest in baseball, but thankfully plenty of interest in running ... signed her family up to run with us at Angel's Stadium.

I think they had fun too.
But I know Mac was flabbergasted.

By signing up for the race, we also got tickets to that night's pre-season game.  Mac was so glad to see that the Angles finally made their way back to the stadium and were ready to play some ball.

Lia's favorite part was the Kiss-Cam.  Oooo yeah.

We also celebrated Hazel's birthday.  It is so fun to share a birthday week with so many Gunns.

And last but not least, we had a rip-roaring good Easter.

Easter Sunday Best pictures were done in haste this year.

But church was inspiring, and my first attempt at lamb for dinner went without a hitch.

I am so grateful for a relationship with my Savior, and the opportunity to celebrate His victory over death.  It means this beautiful, crazy, fantastic family is mine forever.

Reality Check

I feel like I've been doing a lot of sugary-sweet posts lately.

Well, my life is just so good right now.
My babies sleep through the night.
They're starting to play together.
Mark is becoming quite successful at his job.
The doula business is just about as busy as I want it to be.
Mark's hours are set at the office ... and though he often has random business meetings/community service/church service things to perform, he is usually home at a decent enough time at night to help me out a bit.  And he doesn't act annoyed to do it.
We are currently floating through our lives in California, trying to enjoy it, and not think too hard about where we'll be at the end of the year.
I'm waking up early to go running.
Mac is doing great in his little no-commitment, free preschool.
Belen is getting smarter by the minute, she loves me to pieces and is loving the men in her life more and more.

So yes, things are really good right now.

Of course ... that isn't to say I never have bad days.

There are days that me and the kids seem to wake up on the wrong side of the bed.  Days where Mac sticks his foot out and trips Belle every chance he gets.  Where a sword-fight with a friend goes wrong and Mac leaps on top of the little guy, pummeling him. (Thankfully with a padded toy. GOOD CRAP.)
There are days Belen shrieks and smacks the floor, walls, toys, people ... anything within her reach.  She sobs if Mac looks at her and hangs between my legs while I try to get dinner ready.
There are days that I can't seem to see anything but faults in my family and I dole out time-outs like they're candy.  The crappy kind.  Days that I can't seem to see past my frustrations to be an honest help to friends of my own.  There are days that end with me feeling mad, exhausted, and demeaned.
And some of those days I take it out on Mark -- who hasn't been around for one bit of it -- with my stony silence and icy glares.  (I do try to give a good glare every now and then.)

Sunglasses picture seemed like such a fun idea ...

These days are just part of life..  Though they are not one bit laughable at the time, they usually are after a few days.  Thankfully, they're often joke-worthy once my sweet babies are fast asleep, my home quiets down, and I tell Mark about my oober-exciting day.

They stretch me, make me more than I could ever be.  I know that.  I know that this full-time job of motherhood is doing more for me than anything else could.  I love it, I love it, I love it.

Some days I just have to remind myself of that.

Thanks, Pinterest.

So new days always come.  And these days, I usually tell myself:

Because happiness is, after all, a choice I can make independent of other people.

Happy Birthday to Me

This year, my birthday was a party.

Like a legit, crazy, people-all-over-the-place-in-a-cake-coma party.

It started with Mark jumping up with the kids.  By the time I rolled out of bed, I had gifts on the kitchen table, a "Happy Birthday" sign taped to the wall, and banana french toast.  Heaven.

It continued on to include pampering from my lovely cousins ... particularly Brielle.  That little 7 year old (I think?) brushed my hair all morning long, taking me back to the days when I was her age and her mother, my fabulous Aunt Jen, would do the same.

Once Mark returned from his half-day at work (I love Tuesdays!), we were off to the beach.  It was sunny, breezy, a little cold ... but nevertheless fantastic.  Mark chased the kids up and down the beach while I talked the afternoon away with Auntie Jenny.  I remember going to work up at their fishing resort when I was fourteen.  She had just had her fourth baby, and although I loved the bajeezes out of that baby Brielle, it bummed me out that Aunt Jen just couldn't seem to hold an entire conversation with me any more.  And now, here I was, losing my train of thought every couple minutes as I saw what Belle and/or Mac were about to do, and I struggled to hold up a cohesive conversation.  Her kids are old enough now that it wasn't quite as much of a problem (or she's just more used to it than I am), and it was nice to see that the stages of motherhood are indeed fleeting ... nice and scary.

After we soaked up enough sunshine and sand, we made the trek back home.  We picked up a Costco chocolate cake (oooooo my woooooord) and Mark took orders and ran to our favorite burger place.

We ate ourselves silly.

The "Happy Birthday Song" never sounded so good.

Thank you family, it was a great day.

Country Folk

This past month, I had a visit from family I rarely see.

They live so far away, in a city so opposite of my own.  As in, population 286.  Spread out over plenty of ground.  My town has a count of 60,395 ... spread over 7.4 square miles.

I used to work there in the summers, and seeing them again brought back the memories.  Open air, open spaces, a place where you could hear yourself think and feel God everywhere.  

I miss it.

The grass is always greener, right?

Well it was so good to see them.  We had a blast entertaining them in the hubub of Southern California, and they showered us with love and good times.

The beach felt freezing, that day, but these folks are a true-to-life high mountain herd and soaked it up.

And they were here for my birthday ... which, of course, is an occasion that deserves its own post.

Love Stories

It has always bothered me when people say a good love story isn't worth reading because it'll ruin their marriage.  How could their husband possibly compete with this fictional character?

Well, I love a good love story, and I feel like it makes my marriage better.  Why?

• The character will remind me of Mark and I'll think, "Oh what a stud."
• The character will be nothing like Mark and I'll think, "Girl, if only you knew what a real man was."

And finally, reading these little stories of how these couples met, fell in love, and committed to each other takes me back to our sweet beginnings.  I tell you, somebody needs to write a book out of our story.

Maybe I will.  (Mark, stop cringing.  It's manly to woo a girl.)

Remembering all the reasons I fell in love with him in the first place makes me dance around the kitchen and hum like mad.  Re-living it makes me grateful that I had such a magical experience and will cherish it forever.

And most importantly, remembering my experiences reminds me that I am ready to move on.  To make my relationship more than just mysterious and exciting.  To make (that word implies action, people) it deep, lasting, full of trust, respect, friendship and honor. 

Spiked with fun.

If you feel the same, then gorge yourself on my list of make-you-swoon love stories:

• "These Is My Words" by Nancy Turner
• "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" by Mary Anne Shaffer and Annie Barrows
• "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen
• "Moloka'i" by Alan Brennert
• "Cleopatra's Daughter" by Michelle Moran

Read them, fall in love, and go lay a big fat kiss on that sweetheart of yours.

And maybe jot down your favorite memories with him.  Because your story, after all, is the REAL DEAL.

Bowling

Well, add another sport to Mac's list of passions:

Bowling.

It all started with the Wii my mom gave us for Christmas.  We got the Wii Sports game added shortly thereafter, which has bowling.

Mac is good.  Real good.  He beats both Mark and I regularly.

Then one boring Saturday night, it dawned on me ... this kid has never been real bowling!  So off we went.

We happened to catch cosmic bowling just as it was getting started.  Mac walked in.
He froze.
He then screeched, "I cannot believe this place!  Wook!  I cannot believe this place!"

Over and over for the rest of the evening.

Afterwards, he would not remove the bowling bracelet.  "I just like it soooo much," he would say.

For two months I tried to figure out ways to get it off of him without emotionally damaging him.
And then one day, he was just okay with it.

We need to go again ... but I wonder if he has to get a bracelet to play ...

Bare Necessities

You know, a girl needs a few things to get through life.

We don't ask for much.  Just the basics.

The Blank, for example.

Also, cereal.
Fruit.
Yogurt.
Garbage trucks.
Bikes.
Toy cars and their sound effects.
Roller coasters.
Blowing kisses goodnight.
Q-tips.
Powder make-up.
Big bows.
Water fights.
Sprinkling salt in Mommy's masterpiece meals.
Balls of all kinds.  Ones revolving around sports that your brother idolizes are preferable.
"Cha-Cha Slide"
High fives.
iPads.

And Baby Princess Belle, obviously.

It's not too much to ask for, really.

Uncle Adam

Uncle Adam had another game in California.  So naturally, we went all weekend long.

We were fried and happy.  I got to meet one of Adam's coaches ... who happened to be Mark's coach when he played college ball.  Mark introduced his precious little family and I thought, "Boo-yeah.  We are what he gave up baseball for." (I'm sure we're the only reason. Right, right?)  And I felt like I married a stud.

Although Daddoo is Mac's favorite as well, that day he only had eyes for Uncle Adam.  His giddiness convinced Adam to come spend the night at our house.  Mac could not believe that Uncle Adam was going to have a sleepover in his same room!  "Be sure and get some good rest for your arm," he counseled.

I think his arm did more working than resting.

But Sushi, soul-searching conversation, and sleeping in a big bed in the same room as my babies seemed to do him well.

Thanks for coming Uncle Adam, it's always a pleasure.

Inexplicable Comfort

Not long after Mark and I got engaged, I took off to Mexico to build houses.  We emailed every day -- and sometimes twice -- and I've kept and cherished them all.

That boy won me with words, though he already had me hook, line, and sinker.  Among the things he sent me, I felt like I wanted to share a quote he discovered:

  "Oh the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person.  Having to neither weigh thoughts nor measure words.  But pouring them out, grain and chaff together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away." 

And in case you're now doubting Mark's masculinity, I feel I must throw in what he wrote at the end of that email:

"Now I have to add some macho stuff to even it all out. I bench pressed 250 pounds the other day, then I built stuff out of iron.  For dinner I needed to open a can, but couldn't find the can opener.  So I just used my teeth, then ripped it off with my bare hands.  That should impress you with my manliness.  So anyways, have fun today and I'll talk to you later. I love you."

Did you swoon?  Cause I just did all over again.