Happy Birthday Opa

My Dad's birthday was this past Sunday, the 23rd. I wanted to get a picture of the kids to put on the front of the card. I thought it would be a quick, easy task. I am retarded. (And also not politically correct, apparently.)

The picture was already going to be subpar because Isaac's pinkeye had returned for the second time in 2 weeks. But time was of the essence because I had to get the card in the mail to try and make it relatively close to my Dad's actual birthday. So out came the warm washcloth to wipe up as much of the "eye boodies", as Leah calls them, as possible. Then both kids were dressed in something other than their pajamas, and (here comes the big accomplishment), their hair was brushed. That's right-- this was serious. For some reason, I thought it would be super easy after that. Stand them next to each other, give Leah a sign to hold, and *click*, picture taken. (This is where we go back to paragraph 1-- I am retarded.) It's alarming how near impossible it is to get two people to look in the same direction long enough to take a picture, without having somebody inadvertently giving you the stinkeye. Laurie, I have even further respect for the work that you do.

Take 1: Wait, what are we doing?

Take 2: This is what happened when I asked Leah to smile. I don't even know what that is.

Take 3: Cute picture, but the photographer cut off Leah's head! (Again, back to paragraph 1...)

Take 4: Only smiles from Isaac, with his squinty little eye-boodied eyes...

Take 5: A different tactic...

Take 6: Isaac loses interest.

Take 7: Leah loses interest. Sign lays abandoned on the floor.

Take 8: Isaac comes back for a second look (but only because I strategically placed interesting toys around it).

So there you have it, Dad. Two cute kids, eight attempts, one card. Happy 63rd birthday!

Have you ever had one of those days where things are not going very smoothly at home and you're just not feeling particularly fond of your children at that moment?? Let's be honest, being a [stay at home] mom is awesome. But there are some days where it's just downright tiring, draining, exhausting (yes, I realize I am reiterating myself, but that's part of the point), and well, ... HARD. Usually those days are prefaced with a sleepless night caused by one, or both, of the kids, thus making everybody start off on the wrong foot. Insert temper tantrums, hair pulling (done by Isaac, usually unintentionally), pushing (done by Leah, usually intentionally), dog chasing (done by Leah, definitely intentionally), cat chasing (done by Isaac, also intentionally, albeit slow moving) and gasp!, worst of all, an empty coffeepot.

Then I get the camera out and randomly take some pictures and somehow manage to capture such cute little faces on camera, that the aggravation just sort of melts away. Perhaps it's seeing their sweet little mugs on the camera screen as opposed to while they're clawing at my legs that gives me a different perspective. (Even though they are most likely clawing at my legs while I am looking at the camera screen.) Or perhaps, for that particular day anyway, it's one of the rare moments where they are smiling, laughing, making funny faces, and miraculously, I've caught it on camera. Either way, some how it gives me an opportunity to step back for a second. It's a reminder for me of how sweet, wonderful, and hilarious these two little stinkers really are.

I'm not sure if you remember, but a little over a year ago my heart was captured by Layla Grace. I followed her blog daily and, as Jared would say, probably got a little obsessed, about this girl that we didn't even know. It was just so heartbreaking that, like a train wreck, I couldn't tear myself away. I can clearly remember sitting in the recliner in our living room, holding my then-newborn baby Isaac, and reading that two year old Layla had passed away. It was horrible. Though I felt incredibly sad for this little girl, I couldn't even begin to explain how much sorrow I felt for her family. Having a daughter of similar age, it made me sick to think of being in their shoes. Though it's been almost a year since her passing, I still think of Layla regularly. The reason I bring all of this up is because I owe Layla a big thank you. Her story (and sadly, many others' as well) is what reminds me that not all parents have their sweet little babies around to throw temper tantrums, pull hair, chase dogs, wake them up in the middle of the night, etc... so thank you, Layla. Thank you for the extra patience, compassion, and love for my children that you have instilled in me. And thank you for reminding me of how incredibly blessed I am to be able to spend so much time with them each and every day.