There is a place about five minutes away we discovered a couple of weeks ago that embodies all of Franky's favorite outdoor activities: a playground, horses, walking paths, and a stream for throwing rocks. It's like the Disneyland of parks. Well, actually, Liberty Park will always be our Disneyland of parks. It's more like the Lagoon of parks. But we will take what we can get.
I know it's not cool to be excited about snow, unless you are a skier or a snowboarder (and I haven't snowboarded in about five years). But for some reason this year, I am totally ready for a snowstorm. Remind me of this moment in January, won't you?
I have this ongoing affair with Big Macs. You see, about every six months something inside of me snaps. Somtimes I see a commercial or pass some kid at the Walmarts with a familiar bag in his hands. And I begin to yearn for that incredible aroma and the taste of that special sauce. The guilt sinks in before I even get to the drive-thru because I know what's about to happen. It's a deep, primal urge. I feel myself loose control as I pull up to the little white box as I blurt out
"Number one with a Diet Coke... and make it a large"
"That'll be six o' one"
My skin tingles as I pull around to the drive up window. I pay the man and toss the bag in the seat next to me, head down, taking a swig of that liquid sin that burns so good. I hand back a couple of fries to the whining two-year-old as I pull over. I dig in the bag until I find the real reason I made that trip to McD's.
The first bite is so incredible. I begin to wonder why I waited so long to indulge in the first place. It's juicy and crunchy from the pickles and lettuce. I don't know what it is about that special sauce but it fills my mouth with sweet sweet bliss.
But just a couple of bites in the sickness begins to sink in. I can feel my blood thickening and the initial rush from the perfect deliciousness is giving way to BLUUUUUUEEEGHHHH. My stomach is feeling full and bloated. I can actually hear my thighs straining at the seams in my jeans.
And then I remember why I always vow never to eat another Big Mac as long as I live.
I think I need to make a trip to Blockbuster this weekend and rent Super Size Me. I know it sounds drastic but if I don't I think I'm destined to repeat history.
Poor monkey. Sometimes my head feels like that when Franky is whining. I told him to smile for the camera and this is what I got. Goof. Whiny little goof. This scenario plays out about a million times a day:
Franky: Maaaaaaaama, truck! Truuuuuuuuuck! (points at truck)
Me: Franky, mama doesn't like that whiny voice. If you need me to get your truck for you you need to say "help mama"
Franky: Help please mama!
Me: Oh! Would you like some help Franky? Here is your truck
They are much better dressed than us but we are better at hearts (booya Andrew). Franky just adores this little guy whom he affectionately refers to as "Mad-guss". We got to hang out with them at Gardiner Village this weekend. And on Sunday we had some fun at Grandma's birthday party. But before that we snuck off to downtown Lehi to snap a few family pictures...
What makes a good photo? Sometimes I take a photograph I just fall in love with, but more often than not I am my own worst critic. And when I look around at all of the blogs I subscribe to that belong to photographers I admire I just can't even compare what I do to what THEY do. I try and accomplish one thing when I am taking pictures of a family and that is to capture the love they have for one another. I also try and get the exposure right and find the great light. But really it's about creating a moment. I'm still trying to figure it all out though.
But I don't know what's wrong with me. My joints ache and I feel lightheaded. I feel like sleeping the day away. Is it the rain that's doing this to me? Or some far greater source of molecular evil? I've already had my flu shot, thank you.
We have been trying various degrees of "crying it out" with Drew ever since he slept through the night three days in a row. He has been doing a TON better at night, going to sleep around 8 and not getting up again until 6:30ish, and then usually it's just to nurse. Franky didn't do that until he was at least 8 months old. You her that son? Nary a full nights sleep for well over eight months. THAT'S a mothers love right there.
But right now it's nap time and so far the "beeb" hasn't slept more than a few minutes in the car during errands and he is TIRED. But he will not sleep. Unless, if I'm being honest, he is nursing. So what does that mean for me? Two hours in bed, stressing about my messy house. But not sleeping because it's kind of hard to get super comfy when you're doing that sort of thing. So I'm trying to let him cry for a bit. But it's been a bit and he's still pretty upset. He'll settle down for a few minutes and then he remembers that he's in bed with no mommy and he starts WAAAAAAIIIIILING.
I don't know where this blog post is headed really. I guess I would just like to complain for a minute and then I might feel better. Not physically, but, ya know, mentally. I tried venting to Franky but all he had to say was "garbage truck!"