Yesterday was incredible

I had the opportunity to witness my nieces birth.

And without fail it amazes me every time, the miracle of birth.

I think, possibly, I was more nervous than my sister was

watching her get all hooked up and ready to go...

it's all still a little too fresh in my mind.

Jody was scheduled for a C-section at 12:00 pm and I was there at 11:30

with camera in hand and ready to go.

After all, I was a seasoned pro. I had done this once before

and 'once before' should qualify me for professional status.

I stood there in my little corner of the operating room watching, waiting

and occasionally asking Jody if she'd like me to take a picture of the inside of her stomach.

She didn't think it was funny, but I did.

And then suddenly the doctor announced, "Here she is" as he held up

this little 6 lbs 5 oz perfect piece of heaven.

She began to squawk and cry (the baby, not the mom)

and instantly I fell in love.

Welcome to the world sweet baby Brighton!

Her mom hasn't officially named her yet, but I have taken the liberty to

just go ahead and assume that's what her name is going to be.

And since I'm naming my sister's offspring, I'm just going to give

her a middle name as well, and it shall be Ginnie...

Brighton Ginnie Barney

But I will just call her Shiny for short.

. . . . .

Summer is officially here

I can tell by the late nights and the lazy mornings

I can tell by the scent of fresh cut grass and sunscreen.

I can tell every time I kiss my kids on the head and the salt sticks to my lips.

I can tell by the level of stickiness on my kitchen floor.

Thanks to otter pops, my floor can now double as a fly trap.

I can tell by the constant smell of wet dog in my house. Thing is, I don't have a dog- it's my kids that stink.

I can tell by my farmer tan. You would be jealous.

I can tell by my power bill.

I can tell by how quiet my house has become (my kids now call the outside their home).

You would think that my house would stay clean, but it's quite the opposite...

I'm on summer vacation too.

Just a slight wardrobe malfunction.

Kaleb, helping a girl out.

Look who's standing. No steps yet, though.

We don't have a lot planned on our summer to-do list,

which I'm completely okay with.

I like to keep my schedule W I D E open to leave plenty of room for spontaneity.

Well, that and the fact that I struggle with commitment.

(But this isn't about me- it's about summer.)

. . . . .

Blog to Book

It was last year, right around February, that Nate's alarm clock would go off faithfully Monday through Friday at 4:30 am. Its repetitive beeping would start off quietly and then gradually get louder and louder sounding something like a constipated crow on repeat. And you do know how annoying constipated crows on repeat can be, don't you?

I kept interrogating him, "What could possibly be so important at work that you have to be there at 5:00 am every day?". I would get the run around response, "You know, I just have pay roll to go through... bills to pay... orders to be filled out." and then I would respond with my usual, "Oh, well that's lame."

I didn't question it again and just enjoyed my three extra hours of sprawling out and taking advantage of every inch of vacant mattress.

Then March rolls around. March 4th to be exact. It's my birthday and I was awakened by three bed head beauties and Nate. They had breakfast in bed all prepared along with an assortment of gifts. I opened each gift one by one, starting with the kids first and gradually making my way to Nate's. His gift was square-ish, thin, heavy, and no mistaking that it was a book.

I removed the wrapping paper to reveal a beautifully bound booked with the title Beautiful Mess and a picture of our family across the cover- he had made the first year of my blog into a book. I managed to mutter out the words, "How could you...? When did you...? How did you...?". His response was short and sweet, "Remember all those early mornings at work?"

I must say, that those are some well spent, treasured hours for sure.

Now I am continuing with the book. I am currently working on 2008 and it is taking me for.e.ver! Most of my spare time is being spent turning my blog into a book and I'm beginning to wonder what I got myself into... or rather, what Nate got me into.

Here's just a little glimpse of what I've been working on...

It's been so much fun to go back and read through all of my old blog entries and reminisce.

It's reminded me of why I write and who I write for.

It's also reminded me that I should filter my brain a little bit more-

referring to my "sisters" as rocks in socks and writing about fingers in bums is probably not the best idea,

but it's definitely funny... well, to me anyway.

I can't wait to see the fruits of my labors in print!

{hopefully sooner than later}

. . . . .

33 Never Looked So Good!

It's true, this boy had a birthday. 33 years he's been on this earth and 10.2 of those years I've got to spend with him. I thought it was only fitting to come up with a list of things that you might not know, but should know about this man I call my husband and I shall call it, Nate's List of Randomosity...

• he drinks Dr. Pepper as if it were water. On average I'd say he drinks about 64 oz of DP a day.

• he can do a magic bouncing tooth pick trick and won't show me how to do it.

• one of his biggest pet peeve's is when someone gets smudge marks on his car windows.

• sometimes I do it just to bug him.

• it's funny.

• he was voted best hair in high school. It's true.

• his love is fly fishing, second to Dr. Pepper... and U2... and hopefully me.

• he could have possibly shed a tear or two at the U2 concert.

• but you didn't hear that from me.

• he has a stash of candy that he keeps stocked at all times.

• he has a twin brother.

• no really, he does. Dustin is his name.

• I like to tease him that he's not the oldest in his family, because technically he was born 2nd.

• he likes to argue that they were conceived at the same time and would prefer to celebrate his conception day instead.

• I tried to sing "Happy conception day to you..." but it just didn't feel the same.

• Nate & Dustin are complete opposites in every which way...

one's chocolate cake, the other's cherry pie.

one's mustard, the other's ketchup.

one's science, the other's art.

one doesn't have a sarcastic bone in his body, the other does...

• when I add it all up, I think Dustin is more my twin than Nate's.

• which is probably why I like him so much.

In Dustin's words, the weird part is that they started out identical.

So, in order of birth,

Happy Birthday to Dustin & Nate!

. . . . .

The sick and otherwise afflicted

In a quiet attempt to sneak fruit snacks from the highest shelf in the pantry, his plot was foiled due to sweaty palms. You see, when shelf climbing, it is absolutely imperative that your hands have just the right amount of moisture content- not too sweaty, not too dry, but somewhere right in the middle... or so they say, keep in mind I'm just a novice when it comes to the field of shelf climbing.

So Kaleb's hands, while reaching for that extra large box of Walmart Smiley gummies, began to slide off the top shelf losing any grip they had. He falls to the floor taking the box of gummies with him. The way he explains it is that it all happened in slow motion. I imagine something similar from a scene out of the movie Matrix, but instead of dodging bullets he was dodging bags of Smilies cascading down the shelf. Kaleb came out of the pantry hobbling exclaiming that he had just broke his foot... but that is just a side note to this story.

This past week has been a long one. I have been to the doctor's office six times since last monday. They now know me by just the sound of my voice when I call and I'm only 4 punches away from getting my FREE appointment on my frequent patient punch card, which I'm pretty excited about because they throw in a FREE drink as well.

It started with Abrie being sick and then moved on to Eden (two weeks before that it was Kaleb with strep). I took Eden in on Saturday for a fever and acting miserable and... nothing. She was "fine". I took her in again on Monday for the fever, acting miserable, and now vomiting and... nothing. She still looked "fine". I took her in again today for her fever and acting almost lethargic. After some testing (and two long hours in a tiny room with 3 kids) it turns out she has a urinary tract infection.

The poor thing is just miserable and she looks absolutely terrible as well. Her little face is as pale as a ghost and she is refuses to eat. Along with the eating, she's decided to stop drinking so she's also a little bit dehydrated. The doctor is planning on doing a follow-up visit to look into vesicoureteral reflux, but for now she's on an antibiotic so things should be on the up and up. Which is good, real good. Because I need my sleep. I'm starting to get these large bags under my eyes...

Check out the size of these bags. And I'm not talking about the knock off kind. These are %100 percent genuine, touch-them-they're-real, hard-to-come-by bags. Problem is they don't really compliment my skin tone. When they were talking about accessorizing with bags this year, I'm pretty sure these weren't the kind of bags they were talking about.

And as for Kaleb, I asked the doctor to take a quick look at his foot while we were there. Kaleb insisted it was broken, I was a little bit more skeptical... turns out Kaleb was right and win the should-have-listened-to-my-kid award.

Here's hoping that next week is a less exciting, doctor free week.

Although, a free drink is sounding kind of good right about now.

. . . . .

A typical day in the life

A dinosaur, a boy, a girl, and a baby sat down at the dinner table...

It's just the beginning of a bad joke with no punch line, my friends.

I cooked Wendy's for dinner, because I'm a good mom like that.

I also introduced my children to the simple joy of dipping french fries in frosty's

and sticking spoons on your nose (preferably without ice cream).

I think I've done my good mom deeds for the day.

Now dipping your fries in a frosty while wearing a dinosaur suit?

I can't take credit for that one, it's all Macie.

. . . . .