I'm ALIIIIIIIIIIVE!

I just yelled aloud, "I'm ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!" as I just sat down to type, so it seemed a fitting title. It's been a crazy month with moving. I had so much help, and if you were one of those people, I cannot thank you enough.

I'm behind, so I'm going to start with some Halloween pictures. This is also the door to our new house. Tate is Mike Wazowski, Taylor is a waitress, and Carter is Eric Byrnes from the D-backs.
Here is my only close-up of Taylor...and she's with all the boys.

Here's our Eric Byrnes. (Oh how I love both of them!)

Lil' Man Tate sporting a smile.

I'll end with Chicken Man. Tate and his friend Madelynn followed this poor guy around all Halloween night. Tate even honked his chicken buns at one point (or maybe it was me...no, it was Tate.) The Chicken Man was then nice enough to pose in a picture with his two fans.

It was a great night! Still have lots of candy. Here's a shout-out Emiwee....remember when you would only allot yourself one piece of candy everyday, and you had candy until the next year? I think about that every year!!!! What discipline!

Headless Chicken Goes to Disneyland

Over the last few weeks, I have been running around in circles like a chicken with its head cut-off and have accomplished what seems like very little on my list of things to do. In fact, I'm questioning if I should even be blogging right now, but I'm going crazy and I needed a release!

Here's the scoop in a nutshell: We put a bid on a short sale house in May. Then we forgot about it. We were contacted 3 weeks ago and offered the house. We went to see it again and realized there was a lot of work that needed to be done to it, however, we felt good about it and went for it. We found a renter for our home, jumped through 80 bazillion (pretty sure that's a number) hoops for financing, and closed on Friday. "Yeah!" I say one minute. "Uh-oh spaghetti oh's," I say the next minute when I think of everything that needs to be done before we move in. (Paint, broken glass, pool problems, cleaning, wallpaper removal, etc...) It's hard leaving our home and moving into a house. I know that with some TLC it will be nice, but for right now, I'm a little nutso.

So, what's the best way to handle stress? Disneyland, or as Tate says, "Dizzyland!" We actually had the trip planned before all the crazy house stuff hit, so we had to go. It was GREAT! Here's a few pictures from our trip.

Sweet Lil' Taylor at Minnie's House

Are you sure, Carter? Are you sure you want that hat? Out of the thousands of souvenier choices? Are you positive? No doubt at all? 100% sure? How about a t-shirt? Ya sure? Alright, goofy hat it is.
We're all a little traumatized after Tower of Terror. Tate wants to know why on earth his mother, who tucks him in at night and kisses all his owies away, would EVER take him on the Tower of Terror. Well, I did. People were staring at us with that closed-mouth smile. He had a death grip the whole time and at the end of it, his bottom lip curled and he said, "That was scary." Then I said, "Call the cops. Book me for child abuse." He did all the scary rides...not bad for a 3 year old. We will await the long-term effects.
Pluto will make it all better.
We also went to Newport Beach. Tate shook it like a salt shaker. I think he gets it from me.

Who are Kim and Bob? No clue. May they have true love always though.

That is one good-looking half of a boy, if I do say so myself.

Willy and I do apologize for not wearing his speedo and my thong. It was a little chilly. Next time. Behold...the Seagull Whisperers...

As far as preventative seagull control goes, these 3 kids are the best in the world.

We had such a nice trip. Now it is back to work and back to reality! It's moving time!

P. Diddy Carter

Carter asked me yesterday,


"Mom, what is a 'brother from another mother'?


Wow. Hmmm. Not sure where to take that one.


I just told him it was like a best friend.


Then he said, "Great! Isaiah and me are brothers from another mother!"


Oh well.

The Oreo Bandit

So, I made some cookies. Not just any cookies...Homemade Oreos. Mmmm. I don't ever make homemade oreos just for fun. They are used strictly to impress, if you will. But they are for sheezy tasty, and they are a great way to say thank you to someone. It turns out that I had four awesome women to thank.

It took me 2 hours to make those flippin' oreos with the homemade cream cheese and pink-tinted frosting. I was definitely multi-tasking all afternoon and feeling a bit on edge. I happened to have a busy week with church responsibilities, my preschool and my own family activities, so my window of time was limited to that afternoon only.

When all five dozen cookies were done, I took several out for my own family (because I'm kool like 'dat) and put them in a ziploc. I took the rest and packaged them in cute bags with a nice pink bow with THE EXACT AMOUNT IN EACH BAG FOR EACH FAMILY. I then placed the bags in the freezer so the cookies would stay nice and fresh. I could then deliver them in the next couple of days. Please see Exhibit A below:

You may be asking, "Why go to all the trouble Leslie?" Is it because I am a Martha Stewart wanna-be? Is it because I have an extra two hours everyday that I needed to fill? Is it because I have nothing else to do but hum a tune and roll dough balls? No, no, and no. I did it because I wanted these women to know how truly appreciated they were. (And let's be honest...to impress. Otherwise I could have just bought oreos, right?)

Now, let's back up and look at this cute guy.

Please see Exhibit B below:
Yeah, he's cute alright. Cute and always hungry. You know what happened. It is such a husband thing to do. While I was out, this cute guy and our children finished off the cookies that I had reserved in the ziploc. That's quite alright...that's why I reserved them some. Well, apparently, they were really extra good because when I walked in the door later that evening, this here cute guy is chewing and chomping on yet another oreo. He had helped himself to a cookie in one of the pretty bags with the pink bow AND THEN RETIED THE BOW...SO THAT MAYBE I WOULDN'T NOTICE???

Me: "Where'd you get that?"

Cute guy: (Acting all innocent) "The freezer."

Me: "You have got to be kidding me." (The steam is shooting out my ears.)

Cute guy: (Huge twinkle in his eye, trying not to laugh) "I didn't think you needed those anymore."

Me: "When in our 12 1/2 years of marriage have I EVER packaged cookies for you to eat?! I had those counted out perfectly for each member of their families! I can't believe you ate one!"

Cute guy: "Sorry. They are just cookies. I'll make some more if you want."

Me: (I'm just plain getting nasty and rude now because I WAS SO MAD) "Oh no you won't Mister! I want them to taste good and look cute!"

Sneaky Willy. Sneaky Willy sent his wife into a psychosis.

I woke up the next morning thinking that maybe I overreacted...oh, I was mad at him. I didn't let him off the hook though...he really needs to NOT be eating cookies packaged with pink bows...EVER! (I think that's pretty engrained in him now...heehee) It's not the first time I've gone psycho on him, and I wish I could tell you that it was going to be the last. Do not worry though...no need to contact the Dr. Phil show. We are going to be okay because he is the cutest oreo bandit I know.

Future Author Alert: Part 2

Oh, this is great. I am still laughing out loud. Taylor just showed me some more correspondance that she has had with her "publisher."

PUBLISHER:

Dear Mr. Taylor Nikolaus,

How are things coming along with your manuscript? As agreed, here is our offer this August: (blah, blah)

Sincerely,
Mrs. Blah Blah

TAYLOR:

Dear Mrs. Blah Blah,

I'm sorry but I can't do this publishing thing. Third grade has started and it's too complicated. So sorry.

Sincerely,
Taylor Ann Nikolaus

P.S. I am a Miss not a Mr.

PUBLISHER:

Dear Ms. Taylor Nikolaus,

I apologize for the wrong salutation. Should you have more time to work on your book, just let me know.

Yours truly,

Mrs. Blah Blah

Lerks & Elf Poop

We went camping last weekend near Show Low. I don't mind camping...for one night, that is. I do it mostly because our kids love it. I do love a good tin foil dinner, s'mores, getting out of the desert heat, and the beautiful scenery. I don't love the stink all around me, sleeping on hard dirt and rocks, black smoke boogers, hungry bears, and again, the stink all around me. Anyway, we had a great time with Willy's family. Here are a couple of pictures of our car ride there:
I had the following conversation with my sweet 3-year-old today:

Tate: Mom. 'Member when we saw de lerk?

Me: What? The lerk?

Tate: Yeah, de lerk wiff de elf poop.

Me: Say what? Lerk and elf poop?

Tate: Yeah! (getting frustrated) When we went camping, we saw de lerk wiff de big horns and de elf poop!

Me: Oh yes. The elk and the elk poop. Yes, I remember.

We did see a few elk on our drive out of camp as well as some elf, I mean elk poop, on our hike earlier that day. I love kids...you never know what sticks with them.

Did You Say a Dwarf?

I love to run. I absolutely love signing up for races. It's a chance to set a goal and physically and mentally push yourself. It feels so great to work so hard. Then, when race day arrives, it is just a blast with all of the adrenaline and fellow runners. It's kind of addicting. I've often joked with friends that once you get to the race, every other runner becomes your best friend. You find yourself being so friendly with each other with encouragement, high fives and so forth...it's like you've known the stranger next to you your whole life. (Not cool when they start talking about their hysterectomy.)

I signed up for my fourth half marathon in Flagstaff, AZ (3 hrs away) with my good friend Christine Olsen. She had a baby about 6 months ago and wanted to use this race to get back into the swing of things. We booked a hotel in Flagstaff and hauled our families up for our big day. Poor Willy...he's always such a good sport.

I really felt a blog post coming on with this one. I could barely contain myself; I was so ready to type! Where do I begin?

Okay, Christine booked our hotel on the Internet. All I have to say is FALSE ADVERTISING! Foul smelling, 1955 popcorn ceiling with leaky water bubbles, bathtubs with...uh...hair that's not on your head...you name it.

Here's her daughter Paige and Taylor in front of it. Can you say, "Norman Bates?" Oh, we got a kick out of it. But this is the best part...

Every runner knows that it is very important to get a good night's sleep the day before a race. This is a clip from the door of our room at the beautiful and peaceful view of the infamous Route 66.


Here are some other highlights:

1. We woke up at 5:45 a.m. to get to the race that started at 7:00 a.m. Oops...just kidding. The race started at 7:30 a.m. One hour to kill. They weren't even all the way set up!

2. We needed to use the port-a-potty before the race. We stood in line. I totally opened one up THAT WAS GREEN AND UNLOCKED only to find a grandma squatting yelling, "HEY!!!" Do people think those port-a-potties lock themselves? The only thing that made me feel better was that she cut in line. I know...a grandma cutting?....c'mon.

3. The race was on a trail up a mountain. We climbed 1000 feet in the squishy mud with rocks everywhere. The elevation definitely got to us too, and we had to slow down a bit. I had to check my competitive side at the door and just enjoy the ride. Christine makes it easier to do that.

4. At mile 4, an old high school friend was volunteering. When we saw him, we realized that we were lagging behind a bit. In an attempt to make excuses for ourselves, I pointed to Christine and said, "SHE JUST HAD A BABY!" And she yelled, "SHE IS BACK HERE BECAUSE OF ME!" Why must we feel we have to make excuses? Two words....HIGH SCHOOL.

5. An hour later than expected, we crossed that Finish Line. One of the best things for me is seeing my family cheering and welcoming me, although they had been waiting there awhile!Christine and I had a great time though with no pressure, beautiful scenery, and great conversation.

6. Now this is where I am bewildered. Out of 135 people (in all age groups, mind you) Christine and I ended up 133 and 134! WHAT!? Oh, it gets better. Willy said that a couple of old ladies (65+ years) came in before us...and they were walking! Oh, it gets better. Christine's husband, Brian, said that he saw a handicapped person cross...(here comes the climax) AND A DWARF! I didn't even see a dang dwarf. Those little legs must have been cruising! I've run many races...I can't say I've EVER been beaten by a dwarf. That's just wrong...it's WRONG!

So, yes, my competitive side along with some pride has been tarnished. However, on the bright side, it was a great way to run a race...with a wonderful friend, beautiful scenery and a dwarf.

Beloved School

Back to school again! Taylor and Carter were SO EXCITED! Is it because I couldn't keep them sufficiently entertained this summer? Did they grow tired of being my maid? Or, is it because they just plain love school and are yearning to grow? Whatever it was, I am happy they enjoy school so much. Tate is not so excited to see them go. He loved having them around, and hopefully he won't be too bored. Is he too young to scrub my baseboards? How about toilets?

Taylor is starting 3rd Grade. She was completely ready to go (with her room cleaned and bed made) 1 hour before we had to leave. She proudly calls herself a "School Nerd."

Carter is going into 2nd Grade. I really wanted him to wear one of his new outfits, but he insisted on his "Hoopsville" shirt. I'll save that battle for School Picture Day.

Mostly today I just feel grateful and extremely blessed to be the mother of these 3 amazing souls. I hope they know how much I enjoyed them this summer, and how much I truly love being their mom. As the saying goes, "It seems like just yesterday..."

Sumthin in Mah Teef?

I know that this kind of thing has happened to everyone at least once in their lives, right? It happened to me on Monday at lunch with some old friends. The thing that gets my grill is that I'm one of those people that is SO careful about this kind of catastrophe. When I used to work and go out to lunch everyday with co-workers or even clients, my friend Melissa and I would always do a "TC" check on each other. She started it. It took me a while to figure out what "TC" stood for. FYI, it stands for "Teeth Check", not "Take Care", not "Traffic Control", not "Tom Cruise."

Well, Monday I went to lunch in Scottsdale with some old high school friends, Shannon and Jean. (Had a great time girls...loved seeing you!) Although I am a confident, mature adult now, and it has been 14 years since we graduated, I still found myself a little hyper for lunch. Perhaps I even reverted back to a few high school behaviors when I asked Willy what I should wear THE NIGHT BEFORE and put on 3 different outfits the day of. I even felt a little giddy before I left...kind of in a BFF mode, ya know? I hadn't seen these gals in a while, and who can blame me for wanting to look my best? These are our Senior pictures...we still look the same. Don't shake your head. Yes, we do look the same.

Alright. So we ordered salad as an appetizer. Ate it. It was goooooood! Then, we began eating our entrees. We are having the normal catch-up conversation, then we delve into some more serious topics. I offer up my story (which was a good one) when Jean interrupts me and says, "Wait! Before you go any further, you have a little something in your teeth! I think it's salad." Shannon nods her head, "Yeah, I was going to say something, but I wanted to just see if it would go away on its own."

What??? Not me! Salad was like 20 minutes ago!

Then, I started my interrogating. "WHY? Why me?" "How long have you known about this?" "Why didn't you say anything when it happened?" "Were you going to let me go through the whole lunch like this?" "What about the universal sign language of pretending to pick something out of your own teeth to let my subconscious know that I have something in mine?"

I then proceeded to suck water up through my straw, spraying my own teeth, if you will, just like the dentist onto the affected area. Didn't work. I then had to squeeze my straw together to scrape that bugger out. It was a stubborn piece of lettuce.

This whole thing got me thinking about awkward situations like this, so I'm posing a question. If you have something in your teeth, or a cliff hanger, or a zit that needs a poppin', or dried snot on the side of your cheek, or lip stick on your teeth, or your breast milk is leaking through your nursing pad, etc..., do you want the person you are with to tell you, or do you want them to pretend they don't see it and carry on? In addition, would YOU tell someone, or would you not want to embarrass them? What do y'all think?

4th of July...Show Low Style

Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. We almost always spend the 4th up in the White Mountains of Show Low, AZ. We love spending time with family, especially when we leave behind 115 degree heat.Every year we watch the Show Low Parade, but this year we were in it. (I'm sure you'll find a way to deal with your jealousy.) Willy's late Grandpa Nikolaus was the first Mayor of Show Low and his family had the first grocery store--Nick's Market. Grandma Nikolaus wanted her family in the parade this year to honor Grandpa Nikolaus and Nick's Market as part of Show Low's heritage. Just seeing how happy she was made pushing a shopping cart 3 miles, in flip flops, with a temperamental toddler, worth it...just take a look at this cutie sitting in her chair with her umbrella, riding in the float.

We definitely had some high points. It was great to see my kids be the ones throwing the candy rather than receiving. They were making a conscience effort to look for kids that weren't getting the goods. And let's face it, when do you ever walk in a small town parade unless you're sporting the coveted title of Rodeo Queen? Like that's going to happen. We also had a few low points. This one is obvious.This one, not so obvious. Sorry everybody...we wish eggs were still that cheap. We spent the rest of the day eating and relaxing at a pond/picnic place and riding quads.
The rest of the aftermoon and evening were filled with sun, row boats, more food, fun, fireworks and Aunt Buffy's puppy chow. How do we top a day like that?

Future Author Alert

What do you want to be when you grow up? Many kids respond with the classics...doctor, fireman, policeman, insurance agent, Wal-Mart greeter, etc....

Taylor has always had a wild imagination. When Taylor was 3, she wanted to be a "seashell hunter." That stemmed from going to the beach and collecting shells. When she was 4, she wanted to be an "artist-mommy." I think that stemmed from me sitting down with her to draw.

Ever since Kindergarten, she has told everyone that she is going to be an author some day. She loves to read and write--both activities of choice. She has about 18 notebooks and a few binders and folders that she fills with her stories. She proudly calls herself a nerd. This girl has got ambition and drive when it comes to this subject. I used to just smile and listen and of course praise her, but now I'm beginning to believe that this is not just a phase. I've never seen an 8 year old want something that much. I think she just may be an author some day.

During the last year, I have been asked countless times by Taylor as to how one gets a story published. I've given her a few simple explanations such as...

1. Find a publisher

2. Send in your manuscript

3. If they like it, they publish it. They pay you.

I figured that this explanation would be enough for an 8-year-old. One day when I was asked yet another question regarding who the youngest author ever to be published, I replied, "I don't know! Go GOOGLE it!"

She did. He's 8.

"Hmmm," she thinks, "I'm 8."

So of course, this gives her a great idea. She is not going to be an author someday but rather today. She then proceeded to GOOGLE publishers. She found a couple which she told me about. I gave her permission to request some information. She got some pamphlets in the mail and was so excited. However, when I read through her stuff, all the publishers required a hefty fee. She was a bit disappointed by that, but didn't give up. I told her we could type a story up, draw pictures ourselves, and go to Kinko's. Oh no. It has to be a real publisher. She shared one of her emails with me the other night, and I about wet myself. Below is an abridged email between a publishing sales agent and verbatim email by Taylor.

Dear Taylor Nikolaus,
Thank you for recently contacting Blah Blah Blah and requesting a publishing kit. My name is Ms. Blah Blah. (Then we have a sales pitch along with some other info.) Do you have a manuscript ready to publish? Please check out our website to download the necessary forms.
Sincerely,
Ms. Blah Blah

Dear Ms. Blah Blah,
Yes. I have one small book that I might publish. I would like a small list of some of the books you have published. Do you think you could do that? Thanks!
Sincerely,
Taylor Nikolaus
P.S. My mom wants me to tell you that I'm 8 years old.

Okay. What 8-year-old says things like that?!

Dear Taylor Nikolaus,
Thank you for taking the time to write back. What is the book you are working on about? (More sales pitch) Since your mom asked you to let me know of your age, am I correct to assume that she has agreed to pay so your book can be published?
Sincerely,
Ms. Blah Blah
Sales & Marketing Department

So did I mention that this company requires $600-$12,000 to publish a book? Maybe I should sell my kidney Ms. Blah Blah. I don't know about you, but when I was 8, I was playing hop scotch, freeze tag and occasionally making my Barbie and Ken kiss...on the lips...with sound effects.

One thing is for sure, and that is that this little girl has determination. Hopefully she will remember the little people.

I Smell Bacon

Cops. It's a love-hate thing. We love them as they uphold the law, make our communities safe, risk their lives, lock up bad guys, stand out in the hot sun directing traffic, and all of the millions of other things they do to serve us. However, we hate them when all of the sudden we become the bad guy. You know what I'm talking about. I'm sure we have a couple of speed demons who are reading this...a couple of lead-foot shebas who have been ticketed once or twice. And you know how they get us. They find a remote spot to pull their car offroad. Some may even cover their cars with greenery or artificial plants and twigs from Michaels. There they wait, lurking, slouched in their cop seats just waiting...waiting...waiting with their little laser beam gun...waiting to ZAP us as we drive by. Yes, you know what I'm talking about. Then it seems we forget about all the good they do.

Well, yesterday I really questioned myself as a mother. What am I teaching my kids to think about our fellow officers?

I was on my way to a baptism at our church. Willy was already there, and I was running a tad bit late with the kids. I ran out the door without my purse (and without my double lazy-eye license). In short, I was in a hurry and was driving fast. I was about 1/4 mile away from the church turn off when THERE I saw him. He was purched on the edge of the road like a little vulture waiting to pounce.

I instinctively slammed on the brakes, not so smooth either. I was still feeling pretty good about my reflexes going from 55 mph to 45 mph that quickly...until of course, I saw the 35 mph sign. I knew he got me. I saw his tires inch forward. Oooh, I had to think fast.

Back in the day, I've gotten out of a few tickets. One time the cop that pulled me over was in my single's ward and liked my friend. That was easy. Hey Occifer. I got something you want; you've got something I want. I'll arrange something with Emily, and you just put that little pad right back in your pocket. It's not so easy now...not as many resources with 3 kids in the backseat, ya know?

Lucky for me, Mr. Copper had to make a left turn to follow me. He couldn't do it right away because of traffic. So...I quickly pulled into the church and quick-as-the-speed-of-light zipped to the back of church where I would be hidden from the road. At that point, I yelled to my sweet, impressionable kids, "GET OUT OF THE CAR! HURRY! HURRY! RUN! GET INTO THE CHURCH! RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIIIVES!" Boy, was I panting! And boy, were my kids wide-eyed!

No ticket for me though. I'm not sure if he just gave up, realized that he was up against a professional, or went for a donut.

Still, it is kind of ironic. I was going to a baptism at church and running like a fugitive at the same time. I hope my kids aren't too damaged by my hypocrisy.

12 Years with a Hottie

Our 12-year anniversary was June 6th. I can't believe how fast time has flown by. It seemed like yesterday that I was sitting in my first day of Book of Mormon Institute class when this really cute guy came in and sat by me "Yes!" I remember thinking, "What better way to learn about the BOM than with a hottie sitting next to me!" Well, he was a hottie until Willy walked in. (The hottie turned out to be Willy's best bud, Todd, who to many, is still a hottie). This is going to sound cheesy and sappy, but the second he walked in, we looked at each other for a moment, and I suddenly felt queasy. My cool, confident self went bye-bye, and I really was struck. Yes, he was a hottie, but that is not what made me into jello. It was the confident way he looked at me and that twinkle in his eyes. I knew at that moment that I was going to get to know that guy (and maybe plant one on him later).

And rewind 13 years, and here we are! Young muffins.

As I've thought about our life together, I feel so blessed to have shared my life with Willy. There are a million reasons why I love him, but here is a list of my TOP 10.

10. He always makes me smile when he walks through the door.

9. He encouraged and supported me when I chose to start my pre-school. He makes me feel like the best dang teacher around.

8. He has had continued support with my runs. He came to my marathon in St. George when I told him he didn't have to, and I meant it --not one of the girl tricks. This happened to be probably THE most stressful day of his life (bar results). He put me before himself, and that melted me.

7. He rolls his eyes at me without rolling his eyes. I know I get a little koo-koo, and I know that inside he is probably rolling his eyes, but most often, he makes light of the situation or brushes it off altogether.

6. He makes me feel like his priority. He works really hard, and sometimes I forget that he has a high-pressured job because he is all husband and father when he gets home.

5. He RARELY complains about anything. He'll eat pretty much anything too...except grapefruit and perhaps ward potluck sushi.

4. He makes me laugh. (Does everyone know that he still has his own "woobee" aka blanket? We are on his 3rd one since we got married and he sleeps with it every night no matter what.)

3. He only snores when he is really sick. Granted, that snore sounds like a ship's fog horn, but it's only when he's sick.

2. He is a good man who loves his Savior and honors his priesthood.

1. He is a constant in my life. I depend on him, trust him and love to kiss on him.

And here we are 2008. A little older and a little hotter.

Happy Anniversary!

There's Nothing Like the MVD

The experience of going to the MVD is as painful as...well, you may as well rip all of my toenails off. I avoid that place like the plague. That may explain why I have lived in Arizona for two years now, and I still have a Texas Driver's License. I've been feeling some pressure from myself (for about 2 years now) and decided that today was the day to get my new license.

I loaded up the 3 kids in the car with some toys and off we went to Disneyland, I mean the MVD. I warned them that it may take awhile and it may be boring. That's why we brought toys and snacks, and why they were promised a Golden Spoon yogurt when we were finished. I planned to go to a "less crowded" MVD (is that an oxymoron?), so I went to one that is in East Mesa that primarily serves the geriatric community. Why I thought that was going to be quicker--with all the little folk with walkers who act like they have all the time in the world because they've already lived a full 88 years of life--I don't know.

Anyway, they finally called my number. I stood in line to get my picture taken. Mind you, for those that don't live in Arizona...our licenses don't expire for about 30 years, so we don't have to renew until then. That could be cool if let's say you were me, 32 years old, and you wanted to be a hot lookin' 62 year old on your license 30 years from now. Or, it could stink if you had a bad hair day or the acne army attacked that week. Then you are stuck with that picture for 30 freaking years.

Well, it was my turn to take my picture. Here's how it went down:

Robot Lady: Step right over here and stand on the edge of the red line.

Me: Okay. (Then I proceed to look in the direction of the camera. Isn't that what you are supposed to do?)

Robot Lady: Uh, honey, I need you to look toward my hand. (She holds her hand out below and to the left of the camera.)

Me: (To myself: Hmmm...that's weird. Well, she knows more than I do about the MVD camera. Maybe it's off a little bit. I'll go ahead and look at her hand like she instructed.)

CLICK!

Robot Lady: It'll be ready in 3 minutes.

Hmmm? Anyone that sees my license in the next 30 years will wonder, "What on earth is she looking at?" or "Is that a case of double lazy eye?" Only you and I will know that I'M LOOKING AT THAT ROBOT LADY'S STINKIN' HAND! Why, oh why!

Happy 7th Birthday Carter!

Am I old enough to have a 7 year old? According to one demented (really demented) old man at my gym, I am old enough to have a 23 year old named Jen Jarvis...but that is another blog post that I will get to later. This post is to celebrate the life of our special boy...

Carter William Nikolaus

Carter is only an hour old here with The Willy

Taylor was only 10 lbs. heavier than Carter here I still remember the day I found out I was pregnant. I was in complete shock because Taylor was only 6 months. After the shock set in, I knew in my heart that this surprise baby was meant to be. When Carter was born, I couldn't have asked for an easier baby. He loved sleeping from Day 1. He pretty much ate and ate and ate and then slept it off, which if you think about it...it's not a bad way to live.
Exhibit One: Multiple Chins (3 wks)
Exhibit 2: Thighs (3 mos)

Carter helped me see once again that Heavenly Father really does know what is best for us. Taylor and Carter have been constant companions, and I'm still asked if they are twins. Carter was exactly what we needed at that time in our lives.

Carter is such a sweet boy. When he was 3, I asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. He replied, "A kid." I was expecting fireman, policeman, Bob the Builder, so I asked him, "Why Carter?" He then said, "Because I want to stay with you and Dad." He's always had such a tender heart and often puts other's feelings before his own.


Carter has a funny sense of humor. He's always trying to put a smile on other's faces. He was being grumpy one night and I asked him, "Where did my sweet boy go?" He replied with his arms crossed, "He went on a business trip!" You are almost always guaranteed a smile with Carter. The kid has got personality.


Now Carter is growing up. He is loving sports right now - baseball, basketball, football, soccer, etc. He is starting to watch them on TV now too. I caught him watching college girls' softball the other day! What?? That just shows his commitment to the sporting world.


Last but not least, here's my "sweet boy" singing a Mother's Day song at school with his 1st Grade class. A mother couldn't be prouder. :0)



Happy Birthday Carter William Nikolaus. We love you to the moon and back! Peace out!