Who is your hero?

Since we moved into our home, I have been looking for something uplifting that I could put in the kids' rooms. Not just plain random pictures, but something that would remind them of how great and wonderful they are, and also something that would remind them of who they are, and how important it is to be strong. I found a website online that sells posters called Real Hero Posters. I knew I had found exactly what I was in search for when I found this site. I pulled each of the kids in and they each picked a poster or hero if you will. These posters aren't little. They are so big and awesome. Each of the posters contain a question across the bottom that asks "Who Is Your Hero?" I won't go through the list of all the ones they each chose, but I did want to share the one Connor and Christian chose. They picked Samuel The Lamanite. They love this story because it's about Samuel from The Book Of Mormon who preached repentance but was not being heard or understood. He was brave despite the fact that people who didn't like what he had to say, were throwing arrows at him and trying to kill him. The Lord protected him and not one arrow penetrated him. It's an amazing story of faith. Each night as I say goodnight to my dear children, Connor asks every single night if I can leave the light on just long enough for him to read the story that is located on the bottom portion of the poster. And every night with out fail I say "Of course."

Santa Baby

I am a crazy for Christmas kind of person. I absolutely and positively love the Christmas season. We usually pull out the Christmas music the day before Thanksgiving. We have been listening to it not stop. It makes me so cheery! The girls wanted to dress up and wear their white church shoes, and sing to "Santa Baby." This went on for quite some time today. I'm starting to really get sick of Santa Baby...but seeing a few toddlers sing to it makes it worth it. By the way, I learned that according to Grace, a blush brush makes an excellent microphone.

Momma knows best

This picture makes me smile. You know when your a kid and you say to yourself that you'll never be like your momma, but then you grow up and your so much like your momma it's scary? That's me, only I'm actually happy to be like my momma. She's an amazing woman. She did hand down a curse to me though, when she told me before I even had children, that you have to bathe a baby every day or they won't be able to sleep. Ever since she told me this, I have abided by it faithfully. As they get older it doesn't matter as much. Apparently they can sleep without a bath as long as they are under three? I know it makes no sense, but personally I love bathing my baby because then I get to snuggle her and smell her and feel like she will literally sleep better if she's had a bath. I don't know if the myth is true or not, but when your momma says to do something, you just do it...no questions asked.

Running around like a chicken with my head cut off

This is a phrase I heard many times growing up in reference to the fact that there's always need to slow down or prepare ahead of time so as to avoid the chicken run. Only now this phrase takes on a whole new meaning for me. I started running for exercise about a year ago. I have ran in the past, but not very consistently. This is the first time I have ever been completely consistent with running. I have always put exercise as a priority, and believe me I have tried everything, from Buns Of Steel, to Tae Bo, to aerobics classes, to jump roping, and so on. But running?? Oh my, how I have always despised it. My worst enemy. Some how it has always kicked my rear in the worst way and no matter how hard I have tried to beat the beast of running (meaning breathe and keep from dying) it has always won. Finally (and this is the truth) after 10 months of running, 4 days a week, I have finally grown to love it. If you asked me last month if I loved it, I would have said no. But I noticed about a week ago when I went running alone, I could breathe. I only went three miles, but I could have gone 6 more, and still been able to breathe. It was wonderful and exhilarating. And ever since then, I want to run more!! It was a huge milestone for me, I had resigned to the fact that I would always hate it. I never would have thought it would take me that long to love it...but it did. It's a big thing to me. I thankfully have wonderful running partners, but now I know that if I choose to run alone at times, by golly, I can. And knowing I can, truly makes my day.

Thankgoodness...

...for wonderful, terrific older brothers that play ring around the rosie just to make their sisters happy. Is this a sign he'll make an outstanding dad? I'm thinking yes.

Warning...stop now because this may offend you.

But I'm going to write about it anyway, because it was really embarrassing, but thankfully I can laugh about it now. Yesterday I took the two youngest girls to WalMart with me. I had a ton of stuff to get..stuff for home, and Chris gave me a long list for office supplies as well. To top it off I had to pick the kids up in just a few short minutes from school. I hate to be late, especially picking my kids up so I was in major rush mode. I finally had everything on my list and was pretty much throwing my items onto the check stand. The boy checking was about 18 and was slowwwwwww as molasses. And I mean it too. I wanted to ring the kids neck by the time he had rung item #3. I had a big case of diet coke on the bottom of my cart that I didn't want to lift so I just said (and this is where the embarrassment arrived) "If your thingy is long enough could you just reach down here and scan?" I immediately realized how that sounded and I tried really hard not to look at this boy, but I hoped deep in my heart he didn't have a gutter mind and wouldn't even notice. I couldn't resist so I took a quick glance, and yep....the red in his cheeks and smirk on his face said it all. I wanted to crawl in a hole. So I basically just didn't look at him as he took another 5 minutes to finally get me out of there. I told my husband about it hoping for some sympathy but all I got out of him was a belly laugh that doesn't come out of him very often. *Note to self*...don't use the word "thingy" to refer to anything ever, ever, ever.

One of my favorite things...

Loving my baby. Gosh I love that girl.