Wednesday, September 30, 2009

ah... progress.

this is our house.

this is my kitchen. imagination people.happy wednesday.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Magic Beans...

You know how when you have little kids you get tired of just taking them to the park or chuck-e-cheese and you don't want to wait until their teenagers to give them a little culture?

On Saturday we took the kids to the Hale children's theater to see Jack and the Beanstalk. Totally darling, and the play was good too.

Nobody screamed, the atmosphere was totally casual and kid friendly. I'm in mother heaven...

Happy Kids= Happy Mom= Happy Family.

The end.

Friday, September 25, 2009

What is our world coming to?

Irena Sendler

I was sent this story in an email. I had to share for two reasons. 1. This woman was amazing. 2. I'm so disgusted with the end of it, ug... just read on...

*There recently was a death of a 98 year-old lady named Irena. During WWII, Irena, got permission to work in the Warsaw Ghetto, as a Plumbing/Sewer specialist. She had an 'ulterior motive' ... She KNEW what the Nazi's plans were for the Jews, (being German.) Irena smuggled infants out in the bottom of the tool box she carried and she carried in the back of her truck a burlap sack, (for larger kids..) She also had a dog in the back that she trained to bark when the Nazi soldiers let her in and out of the ghetto. The soldiers of course wanted nothing to do with the dog and the barking covered the kids/infants noises.. During her time of doing this, she managed to smuggle out and save 2500 kids/infants. She was caught, and the Nazi's broke both her legs, arms and beat her severely. Irena kept a record of the names of all the kids she smuggled out and kept them in a glass jar, buried under a tree in her back yard. After the war, she tried to locate any parents that may have survived it and reunited the family. Most had been gassed. Those kids she helped got placed into foster family homes or adopted.

Last year Irena was up for the Nobel Peace Prize ... She was not selected.

Al Gore won, for a slide show on Global Warming.

Cori note: When people start valuing liberal bandwagon agendas over true heroism in the face of real personal danger, that is when our world goes to hell in a handbasket.

I think if our forefathers were alive today, they would kick our butts.

happy today :)

it's friday. that means it's the weekend, which had always been exciting. but now more than ever. let me explain by telling you what our weeks are like.

monday: get up at 4:30 and 5 am (I'm the 5), exercise, Craig goes to work at 5:30, i drive Hannah to school (4 miles to our new nieghborhood that we still don't live in). I go pick hannah up at 3pm, Craig gets home for work at around 4:30, i head off to class an hour later and don't get home until after 9 pm.

tuesday: same morning routine. Craig works all day and then goes to school all night, and doesn't get home until around 11 pm.

wednesday: same morning routine again (and for the rest of the week) Craig get's home at 3:50 I beat it out the door to make it to my 4:40 class and don't get home until almost 8pm

thursday: Craig goes from work to school, and again, doesn't get home until 11pm. (So I'm alone with the kids all day and night)

Friday: Hannah has school, Craig has work and then NOTHING! NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING!!!!!

Two and a half slightly uninterrupted days with the hubby, and nothing but studying and 3 children to interrupt us. I love the weekends.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

I'm mad right now.

That I wasted 2 hours and stayed up late, (meaning I didn't get up on time) to watch this stupid, ridiculous, disgusting excuse for a movie:

did they really finish that up and think, "oh yeah, that's a good one."


not even worth a redbox rent.

Monday, September 21, 2009

as long as i live,

I will never forget the sight of my daughter leaping from the car this morning, her turquoise tinkerbell backpack strapped tightly to her shoulders and hanging down past her knees. She was running to keep from being late, and her gait was so light and happy it was almost a skip. Her bright pink and white polka dot shorts stood out next to her white shirt, from the sea of other children and I could spot her across the field where I sat, parked, watching her skip/run into kindergarten. Her little a-line bob bounced up and down with her movement, her face was so confident, so determined, so focused on her run, thinking only of getting to class on time. It overcame me. I sat in my car, my boys strapped in back, all ready to go to the park, and all three of us watching Hannah, make her way fearlessly into school. So many kids still have their mom's holding their hand all the way to the kindergarten door. My Hannah is a champion. Watching my daughter run into school was like Christmas morning. Seeing the combination of such differing traits married into the perfect contrast that is my child overwhelms me. She is small, her features are dainty and pretty, she has more spunk in her pinky than most people have in their whole body, she is tough, she is sensitive, she is pensive, kind, aware. She notices things most kids would miss. I sat in my car watching her little body until she disappeared into the swarm of five-year-olds and Carter asked if we could go to the park now. When I turned around to answer him, I was crying.

"What's wrong, Mom?" he asked.

"I just love Hannah so much," I answered. "I love you all so much."

He smiled back at me, Ethan grinned (I tickled his legs) and we drove to the park with Carter's favorite monkey bars.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

motherly musing.

I volunteered in Hannah's kindergarten class today. I don't know how kindergarten teachers do it, and still keep their voices so high pitched and cute. That's a whole lotta 5 year olds, mmm yeah. Hannah's doing really well. She's perfect in class, not surprisingly, and she tries really hard. Plus she has my brains, how could she go wrong? Just kidding, sort of...

But I noticed something today.

It is so much easier for little boys to be naughty in class than little girls. Or at least it seems that way. They are more rambunctious and wild, and consequentially they get in trouble more often.

Two little boys in Hannah's class got yellows today while I was there.

Yellow is bad.

But not as bad as red.

(Hannah's words, not mine)

I felt pleased about my perfect little peanut, who charms all the teachers, the yard duties, the people who help move the cars along through the drop off, and all of the kids older than her, with her tiny little body, beautiful little cherub face, and articulate speech. I couldn't help winking at her every minute or so. She's just so cute when she tries to wink back.

Then I started thinking about Carter. In two years I won't be sending a perfect little girl to kindergarten, I'll be sending a boy. Carter.

Carter's been struggling, I'm not going to lie. He's impulsive, and has a temper, and doesn't handle change as easily as my other children.

The move has been the hardest on him. For sure. It's been a rough six months. His behavior has been, how should I put this... less than ideal. And many, no- most times, I'm at a complete loss as to what I should do with him.

It gives me anxiety, makes me feel like a bad mother, makes me worry about how on earth he will handle kindergarten.

But I thank God for two tender mercies. 1. that he gives me little slivers of guidance with Carter. and 2. he has an October birthday, that means he doesn't start for two more years.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

i love my life.

1.i love where i live, seriously arizona rocks.
2. i love my husband, he's perfect for me, patient with me, and still wants to hang out with my moodiness after 6 years.
3. i love my new house. it's just framed walls and a roof, but dang it, it's going to be mine!
4. i love my kids.
5. i love that my kids were pretty good in target today.
6. i love target.
7. i love my classes.
8. i love the book i've been working on for the past year and a half. it makes me feel like the worst writer in the world one day, and the best the next. and hopefully soon, i'll finish editing it.
9.i love my laptop. i love that i can carry it around to any room in the house with me; untethered goodness.
10. i love the jewelry screen i saw online and went ahead and made for myself. yay, decorative jewelry.
11.i love things that serve dual purposes.
12.i love that there's an anthropologie located exactly 12 minutes from my house so i can go in and bath in the goodness of that store whenever. i. want.
13. i love ann taylor LOFT. they sell petites, xxs and 00short. beautiful feminine clothes that actually fit. so i can love that i'm tiny and still dress like an adult.
14.i love my dry skin. sure i get eczema on my hands, but i have pretty clear skin too.
15. i love the superstition mountains. we have the coolest view of them in the east valley, and they look so cool and purple every day against the clear arizona skies.
16. i love being mormon. yes i do.
17. i love that i figured out how to handle carter a little better this week.
18. i love that the inspiration came from the Lord.
19.i love that in my literature class we are studying authors like jane austen and charlotte bronte.
20. i love that i love the classics and am still obsessed with twilight. (new preview posted on stephenie's website!!!)
21. i love how long this list is... i bet you do too.
the end.

Monday, September 14, 2009

labor day in logan.

a taste of the trip.

see ethan on an airplane.
see ethan dipping cookies in milk.
with papa. his favorite person.
dinner by the river.
nick and tash.
the mouth of the canyon.
logan canyon. in flip flops. (didn't bring my hiking shoes)
i love my sisters.
the end.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

if you're a super hero...

you must have a secret identity.

that way you can run around,

fighting bad guys, and defending the innocent.

and still have a normal life.

it's hard to be batman. (especially when batman is obsessed with spiderman.)

Thursday, September 10, 2009


My third child is squealing in his bedroom right now. Not screaming, or crying, but squealing. He doesn't want to take a nap and he really really needs a nap right now. I'm sitting here listening to him, wanting to go in and pick him up, but knowing that it won't do any good. As soon as I put him back down, he'll just start squealing all over again. I feel a little sad, because I know that all the squealing going on right now, and at many other times of the day, means that Mr. 3rd Child isn't a baby anymore. He's a rip-roaring toddler, squeally grumpy disposition and all. I'm sorta bummed out that as of next month I really can't call him a baby anymore, and I have no immediate plans, or hopes of another bundle any time in the next... however many months. I really don't think I can do a 4th right now. I really don't want to not have a baby either.

I might go in and rock Mr. E now. Even though I know it won't do any good. Just to hold on a little longer.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

the state of the sink.

My sink is backed up. My kitchen sink. Then center of my world. Of every mom's world. The place where I wash and peel and scrub half of my life away. The center of my home is the kitchen. The center of the kitchen: The sink.

I spent 200 dollars on groceries today...

Don't gasp (although I still do every. single. time.) I spend that much every other week. Feeding a family of five is really really expensive. But I took the boys today. Usually I go at night when Craig can be home with the kids. But Craig has class on Thursdays, he'll be in Seattle all day tomorrow, till late, and I'm flying to Logan on Sat. morning. So I went with the boys today. All things considered, it went well. But, they both fell asleep on the 5 minute drive home. Which meant that neither of them took a nap. Which also meant a screaming temper tantrum afternoon, while I tried to shove 200 dollars worth of groceries into our teaspoon size kitchen.

Then I did the dishes and cleaned out the stinky old leftovers from the fridge. As I was running the disposal, I noticed a problem. The sink wouldn't drain. Disposal is running fine, but the sink won't drain. And I just poured 2 tons of stinky mouldy food down it. Fabulous.

2 hours, alot of plunging and still a big soupy, mess.

Pause. Go get Hannah from school, come back. No better. Plunge, and poke the sludge some more, still no progress. Pause again for the evening with 2 screaming boys, and my poor kindergartener who has to deal with mom being at her limits. We played t-ball, went to the park, cleaned the rest of the house (except the sink, of course- still backed up) had baths, cold-cereal for dinner (every mom does this sometimes), vaccumed, did homework, scriptures, prayer, book, teeth brushed, and bed.

Now I'm going to fold laundry, mend a few clothes, do some of my own homework, finish a project, and do pilates (if I can still stand at that point)

My sink smells like vomit.

Craig doesn't get off school until 10:00pm and then it's a 35 minute drive. Please let him have the energy to fix the sink as well...

I'm feeling grateful for that plane ticket to Logan...

I need a break.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009


there is a girl with a flock of tattooed black birds flying across her back in my literature class. it could be a tribute to the Beatles' song, in which case that would be cool. they are surprisingly realistic looking. every time i see them, i wonder how in the heck she held still long enough to let them etch those birds so perfectly in her back. i could never get a tattoo. never mind the fact that i think they are disgusting, and the idea of doing anything damaging or restricting to your body (including tying up the tubes) just seems really really wrong to me. (it's a long time to live to have the nickname from high school written on your arm, what if you want another baby in 5 years? etc.) and also, i wriggle and writhe when in pain. i can barely hold still long enough for them to insert the epidural needle when in child birth... tangent...

but walking to my car tonight after class, i felt empty. it was a good class, very stimulating, cool professor, studying jane austen right now (can life get better!?) but still i was empty. and i missed byu-idaho. there is a tangible spirit in the air there. and you can feel it where ever you go. ASU is a good school, but void of that. and when i walk back from my class to the parking garage that houses my vehicle for the 3 hour stretch of class, i find myself wishing i could be back there, (if only for a moment) so bad it almost hurts.

my professors used to begin the classes with a prayer. can you think of a better way to start? now i walk out of the building and right into a cloud of cigarette smoke (possibly my least favorite thing in the world). sad.

i'll always be grateful for the time i had at byu-i. it brought me a lot of fun memories, a husband who rocks my world, an associates degree, and a greater testimony of the Lord's power to improve the educational experience.

everything is better when you let God into it.

thank you byu-i.

for many many things.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009


Sitting on the grass next to the park this morning, I was trying to shove my little boys' feet into their shoes. It was a warm Arizona morning and the sun shimmered in their blond hair. Their toes were sweaty and covered in sand, which I tried to brush off. I could hear the children playing outside at Hannah's school around the block and wished I could drive over and give her a little hug in the middle of her Kindergarten morning. I didn't. I wouldn't want to be that embarrassing mushy mom. So I sat on the grass working Carter's dirty little boy feet into his sneakers. He sat on the grass being silly and waiting while I moved onto Ethan's feet. He'd lay back in the grass, and then so would Ethan. He would sit back up, and once again, his brother would follow suit. He laughed, Ethan laughed. Laid back again, and so did the younger. All the time the baby's little cherub cheeks glowed as he watched carefully and imitated everything his big brother did. Then his idol stood up and scampered across the lawn. Only one shoe on, he wriggled free, his only thought to follow Carter, and ran after him. His feet, only half shod, bounced up and down with his little hop run. I stood up and walked behind, his other sandal dangling from my fingertips.