I want to be a mom like you...

     "I want to be like you as a mom. What's your secret?", a friend of mine asked recently. To which I replied, "Ha! You don't know me well enough then!"
I spent the last few days contemplating what I should have maybe said instead to this brand new mom.

Motherhood is like being dropped into a foreign land. You can prepare for it, you can have all the accoutrements, but once you're there, chances are... you'll appreciate a guide. Befriend other moms, use them as a resource. No mom has the magic equation for raising kids. If they claim to have the formula for perfect kids, I avoid them like the plague. Those are not your friends. We all have some things we do well, and some things we don't. Take what works for you and gently discard the rest. Other moms are your Sherpas, your education, your respite, your village, your emergency babysitters, your sounding board, your vent release, and your commiserate sisters. Motherhood is truly a sisterhood. Some of life's experiences and trials are unique to being a mother. Older wiser moms are my best resource. Better than books. Better than the internet.

If you see a mom in Target losing her sh*t, remember that'll be you someday. I know you don't think so, but trust me when you have four kids, haven't slept in 3 days, you can't remember the last time you actually shampooed  your hair, you have to decide what necessities you can do without this week because your kid accidentally broke a big $50 ceramic dragon at the last store, you are pretty sure that's poop on your jeans, and your kids aren't listening.... that will be you. (Clearly, just a made up story that did in no way happened to me last week ;) So reserve judgment. Just smile and nod at her; the way that only fellow moms can, that says 'I know momma. I've been there too.'

Give up. Give up and let go of the illusion that your life, kids, marriage, and home is perfect. Live an authentic life, and learn to let the judgments of others wash over you. There will be many who will disagree with you as a mother. There will be people who disagree loudly. Let that go. Motherhood is your journey with YOUR kids. Be strong and confident in knowing that you are, and you know, what is best for your child. Side note, let toxic people go. Some people won't get your journey so don't invite them to travel alongside. I don't put effort into relationships that drain me; stop watering dead plants.

Apologize to your kids when you screw up. Someday you'll say something you wish you could swallow right back. Kids are naturally forgiving, but don't let it pass without an apology. You will screw up, and the mom guilt will be crippling. So, learn to forgive yourself.

Kids are people. They have fears, anxiety, preferences, feelings, dreams, plans, ideas, bad moods, and bad days.

When a baby is cranky you feed them, clean them up, snuggle them, play with them, give them attention, and put them to bed when they are tired. This also works for nine year olds.

Ask for help. It's not a sign of weakness. We used to teach girls to be moms, and we don't anymore. We used to have a community of family around to help each other. Our moms and grandmothers used to take a month off to come help us after babies were born. We don't have that anymore... but we do have these villages of friends we've cultivated and many would help if only we asked. Chances are you have a dozen friends who said, 'call me if you need anything.' They likely really mean it, but we seldom use that lifeline.

Never say never. As soon as you say, 'my kid will never cut their own hair...' be prepared to eat your words the next day.

Your priorities can be different, and that's okay. My priority will never be a spotless home. I'm the girl who's always measured success by skips and hops, chalk drawings, crayon masterpieces, creations, cookies, snuggles, adventures, stories and giggles. (But I also love the girl who's priority is a clean house... we need somewhere to hold play group!) I spent a lot of time feeling like a failure because I didn't have it all together. That is a sadness I would wish on no one. Perfection in a lie. Find the path to happiness that works for you.

Tell other moms when you admire them. The greatest compliment I could ever receive is that you appreciate me. Motherhood can feel thankless, so spread that kindness like confetti.

I love you. You are a wonderful Mother.  You are doing great just being you.

Telling Dan...

Where were we...

Oh yeah, we are pregnant, and we aren't supposed to be. 

Because we decided we were done "trying" and started "impeding".
Reminder: We both felt really good about it.

AND then I decided to pee on the last pregnancy test because I can't stand to waste crap.

So. Shocked.

I went to the store and bought a 2 pack  pregnancy test.

And took another the next day. Still positive, and darker. 

Then, Dan got the stomach flu.To hear him tell it: The mother of all stomach flu. 

He was pretty sure he was dying and I didn't want to be the nail in the coffin that did him in so I kept my news to myself for a few days. 

A couple more days past and I took the next test. Still two lines. Still positive. 

I decided that I would like to tell him in a unique way, because I had not ever been able to do that before. So I had this brilliant idea that I would make a meal of baby foods.(Apparently this is a thing, but I swear I thought I made it up. Although now I've been told it was featured on a infamous episode of Full House) So, baby back ribs, cooked baby carrots and baby potatoes, and midway through the meal I'd ask him to "get the bun out of the oven".  Now Dan is a smart guy. Super smart amazing man, but I knew ALL that would probably go over his head so I also made a little baby onesie to give him after dinner, away from the kids.

Dinner was ready at 5:30pm. 

I was so excited and scared. 

He called me at  6:30pm saying that he wasn't going to make it home until late and we should start dinner without him.  

Are you freakin' kidding me?!?!

We ate.

Plan B was this:

I made a quick trip to the store for his favorite candy. 

I made the bed and piled it on his side like so.

I waited for him to come home.

He FINALLY made it home, and said he needed to change out of his work clothes and lay down.  

So I waited on the stairs out of sight so I could hear his reaction:

"YES!!!!" (Him finding the candy)

"What the heck?!?!" (Him seeing the baby onsesie)

Silence...absolute silence. (me: 'crap')

So I go upstairs and and he's like just staring at the pregnancy test quizzically. 

My husband is a smart guy. I mean like super smart.

I love him so much!

He said, " I....do...not...think...you're... pregnant"

because he can also be a big idiot.

So I showed him the test instructions and pointed out the lines.  And he was still unconvinced.

So the next day I went to the store and bought a digital test which literally says

"PREGNANT" on it. 

THEN he finally believed me.

Note: our due date has been moved up a couple weeks, because as usual I'm measuring large.

Later, since he never really gave me much of a reaction I asked him what he thought. 

He said, "I knew something was up because you made the bed."

Which is, of course, such a glowing endorsement for me as an adult.

Go. Me.

How did we get here?

Hey there! It's been a while since I've been on the old blog. We are officially changing the name from "Thrice Blessed" to **Crazy Blessed** because...well we are currently cookin' another Jensen baby!

Many of you might have thought we were done having kids....heck even we did! So how did we get here, three months pregnant  with baby #4?

Well that's a story. After our last little girl, Paisley was born. She was perfect, and so was life. On the day we brought her home from the hospital, our little family was gathered around her bassinet just admiring her. And I said, "This is our last baby. We never have to do this again."

Brighton who was three years old, looked confused...and said with all the confidence of a 3 year old, very matter of fact...

"Mom don't forget about (name withheld)! They are in heaven and they want to come down and be part of our family. Promise me you won't forget about them."

Anyway, we laughed and chalked it up to being 3. 

But then a couple years past, the kids were sleeping through the night, there was money in the bank. I started to have a weird feeling. I would look into the rear view mirror and look at my three kids and then glance for a fourth. I would see our family picture and expect to see someone else. I would look around at Holidays and feel like someone was missing. These are all feelings I kept to myself because you know money in the bank, sleeping again....ect.

And then I started feeling those old feelings, I thought I'd buried. The deep physical and emotional desire to have another baby. I brought it up to Dan who SHOT that down, vehemently, decisively, and almost hysterically.  and, I understood! It was crazy and yet I couldn't help my feelings.  But I love my husband and want him to have the life he wants. And So I prayed that the deep longing I was feeling for another child will leave me. It didn't. 

Occasionally I would bring it up to Dan, but he felt "so completely done" and I had no hope he would change his mind. 

Some days I understood exactly where he was coming from and some days I was in anguish. 

I think most of you know: I'm LDS aka Mormon. My faith is a HUGE part of my life. 

Everyday I pray. I pray when I wake up, when I shower, when I drive, when I eat, when I'm hurt or scared or happy. Sometimes when people think I'm talking to myself, I'm really just talking to God. 

Anyway, When the feelings didn't dissipate. I changed my prayer to, "Are these feelings the answer, should we have another baby?"

And even though I was doing all that praying, I didn't feel like I was getting an answer. 

I decided I needed to go to the Temple.

A temple is a special place set aside as a place for ordinances, and serious prayer and reflection.

It's, in my opinion, the closest place on Earth to God. 

So I went and I prayed so sincerely that if we were meant to have another child I would know it definitively. I had such an immediate and complete peace come over me. And what can only be described as a gentle voice across my mind say...

Emily you already have your answer, now you need to pray that your husband also receives the answer. 

So I did. 

Two days later, Sunday, Dan handed me a note on our church bulletin that said,

"Baby?"

Afterwards, he said he felt an overwhelming feeling that our family was not complete the night I returned from the temple.

So, we decided to have another baby. Unfortunately, It took much longer then we'd have liked. and it was really discouraging. We had just decided that maybe having another child was not in the cards for us, but simply a test of faith. Every month passed and I struggled to understand the "why" and we decided together that we were done trying. I think we both felt really good about that choice. 

I embraced our family of 5 fully, and the new freedoms of our girls getting older. I picked out a new car...a 5 seater! 

One day I was cleaning out our bathroom cupboard and I had one last pregnancy test left in there. I'm weird I decided to pee on it, rather than just throw it away unused.  Imagine my surprise when it came back positive!!! 

Now, I just had to figure out how to tell Dan. 

but that's a story for tomorrow...

The year is ending...

So many of you know that I find annual Christmas cards to be one of the only legitimate excuses left for outright bragging about your family's accomplishments....

You might also know that even though I always have plans to get a Christmas card together and mailed out...it has never actually happened.

Still, the end of 2014 is a time for very serious reflection, and I am nothing if not incredibly serious.

Paisley

• Participated in a "Pooping Promotes Literacy" campaign, at the end of which she was completely potty trained, and had read the entire written works of Elmo. 
• Turned 3! Started 3 year old preschool, where she is the master of play-dough and puzzles. 
• Conquered her fear of public speaking and complete sentences.
• Learned the Alphabet. 
• Reigning Hungry Hungry Hippos Champion.

Fairon

• Graduated from Preschool, and started Transitional Kindergarten
• Stopped crying at school (Something we both conquered this year)
• Learned how to say the "L"  and the "th" sounds. The only one we are still missing is the "r" sounds. (All kidding aside, she has worked really hard on these!)
• Donated 9 inches of her hair to Beautiful Lengths campaign, looked adorable before and after!
• In 2014 she retained her title as the Jensen Family Drama Queen. 
• Learned how to put her face under the water

Brighton

• Graduated from 1st grade and started 2nd grade
• Continues to learn to navigate through "girl drama" in school
• Mastered her fear of the Tooth Fairy and Elf on the Shelf; decided to keep her fear of balloons,
• Holds the record for: Most Things Remembered ( that need to be shared) After Bedtime.
• Fell in love with Chapter Books
• Actually attempted to get her feet on the ball in soccer.

Emily

• Embarrassed children countless times
• 2 pinterest projects completed, both failures
• Gained and lost the same 10 pounds a half dozen times.
• Decided to have another baby & decided never to have any more children with equal parts certainty everyday, all year. 
• Finally perfected the art of extreme gesturing while speaking. 
• Accepted a calling at church as Assistant Girls Camp Director and a calling in the Primary Presidency.
• Continued working with Spec. Ed @ MNW elementary school
• Coached Preschool Soccer and decided never to do it again.

Daniel

• Started his 2nd year serving in our church Bishopric
• Told 1,837,043,684,765 dad jokes
• Looking forward to celebrating his 9th Anniversary with his smoking hot wife. (and his 9th anniversary with Coca- Cola)
• Was not offered the head coaching position at The University of Nebraska despite being highly qualified, but looks forward to continuing his love of armchair football coaching both the Cornhuskers and BYU.
• Allows our cat Muggles to live

The sad man who lives in our basement

I would like to preface this post with: I am of (relatively) sound mind and body. Unfortunately, a summer cold was caught and passed around our house this week. Last night, the girls ran me ragged bringing tissues, glasses of water, and snuggles from room to room.  When I finally did land on the first horizontal surface I came to (the love seat) around 5 o clock in the morning, I got all cozy, (again relative to a version of cozy), but I couldn't sleep because there was something knocking around in our basement. I thought it was almost certainly Muggles, our cat who is only active at nighttime. Eventually, I must have fallen asleep because I was woken up by Paisley putting her wet underwear in my face (this. is. motherhood.). She is potty trained, you know, except when she isn't. It's a rough stage. Anyway, I woke up and asked Paisley to take her wet clothes down to the basement and set them by the washer so I could put them in right during the first load of laundry for the day. Side note, there is nothing worse then finding a peed in set of jammies tucked in to the bottom of a laundry basket a few days later.

We have started making the kids be responsible for their own care. Washing their hair (with help), brushing their hair (with help), vacuuming up spills (with help), sweeping up after meals ( with help), taking their own laundry to the basement, folding it, and putting it away (with help).  Sensing a theme? That 'with help' bit, that means mom eventually does it...but the point is to foster a sense of independence and responsibility.

Where was I? Oh yeah, peed underwear in my face immediately upon waking. So, the following is our approximate conversation:

"Mama, Here!" (wet underwear in my face)

"GRRRUUUUGHHHLLLL" ( This is me waking up. I don't know what it sounds like but this is how it feels)

"Uh, Oh! Did you have an accident in your bed?"

"No."

"Then why are your panties wet?"

"Because."

"Take them to the basement and put them in the basket by the washer."

" I can't. The mean man by the wall scares me."

"OOOOOOOOK....... what?"

" I can't go to the basement. The sad man lives down there and he scares me."

"Can you show Mama the sad man?"

She shakes her head no. She is obviously scared. I'm getting totally creeped out. Eventually, she agrees to show me the sad man who lives in our basement.

Okay, I really want to impress upon the reader of this blog that I'm (relatively) sane. I do NOT believe in ghosts, but in our dark cinder block basement, that I often make jokes about being like unto a third world prison, I'm a little more open minded.  Also, I'm hyper rational. So, as I descend the stairs, I've also conjured in my head this scenario/urban legend where a homeless man breaks into our basement window and lives in the corner of our basement in a pile of our dirty laundry, unbeknownst to Dan and I, but befriends our children and makes them promise to bring him food and keep the secret. All of course while doing "tricky" things to them and making them feel scared. I have anxiety people, and an overactive imagination.

Where was I? Oh yeah, descending the stairs armed with a prayer, a little slugger baseball bat, and the tiny hand of a 3 year tucked in mine.

"Why do you have a bat Mama?"

"Mama is just putting it down in the basement. Paisley can you show me the sad man?" (totally creeped out.)

She points deep into the dark corner of the basement. I see a lurky shadow. I flick on the lights to find.....

The sad man is actually our porch decoration of Uncle Sam that we usually bring out in July, but this year kept tucked away because the brim of his hat is loose and I haven't gotten around to fixing it. 

Relieved, I explain to Paisley that he is a statue, hitting him a few times for emphasis, that he is not real.

"He doesn't like when you hit him."

"PJ, he is not real!"

"Then why does he talk to me?"  

AND... We are BACK. TO. CREEPY.

So I'm contemplating moving and burning Uncle Sam in a bonfire tonight, but Paisley starts laughing and we talk about how she was just using her imagination. But seriously, Uncle Sam might meet an unhappy end.

EHHHH, EEEEE, EEEE, EEEEE

(that's that stabby sound in old movies)

( is stabby a word?)

( I said "relatively" sane right?)

Neville Longbottom

My daughter Brighton has always been a daddy's girl. From the minute she was born she wanted her daddy. He would walk the floor with her on his chest for hours at a time, when she had colic. She goes to her dad when she is hurt, feels scared, or needs comforting. I don't have negative feelings toward this relationship dynamic at all. My husband is an amazing father, and I'm glad my daughter has someone who loves her that she can confide in. But, there are sometimes, I wish we could be closer. We have always connected over arts and craft; something we both love. Then, this last year Brighton's reading skills and comprehension just blossomed and I so started reading them chapter books at bedtime. I was thrilled that I could finally share with her something else I love. That we could talk and connect over my favorite books.

 Last night we finished the first Harry Potter.  From the very first time I opened it in the Middle School Library when I was in the 5th grade, I have loved the book. Not surprisingly, it was a book about a child with a difficult life, who was felt different and unloved, who one day finds out he is special, even magical. He gets to escape that life, and be a hero. I related to this because so much of the time I felt...unvaluable.  Brighton lives a much better childhood then I remember living. When I was younger, I felt very different from other kids, like I was somehow built wrong. My brain didn't seem to process information like other people. And I was socially defunct. Unfortunately, this seems to be Bright's inheritance as well. Add that with a natural proclivity toward weirdness, and BINGO we are raising a geek. In our house Geek, Nerd, Weird...those are not negative words. Being a geek simply means you love something a little more then the average person. It simply means you love more, and that's not bad.

Brighton LOVED  Harry Potter. She begged me nightly to read just one more chapter. It was slower going then we both would have liked because her little sisters kept falling asleep through it. Last night the little ones fell asleep with just 4 pages left. It felt like a shame not finish for Brighton's sake, so we continued.  When I read the part where Dumbledore gives Neville 10 points for standing up to his friends, I heard the shuttered breathing from the top bunk of Brighton holding back tears. I understood. I think I was too at that point. I finished the book and slid out from between the other girls on the bottom bunk.  I told her that when I was younger I felt like Neville all the time, and so that part when he is the hero makes me cry too. She said she is Neville too. We talked about how being different isn't necessarily bad. How feeling different much of my life, lead me to be an independent thinker. Eventually, I think I grew into my weirdness, and made friends with people who value me for it.  We talked about how difficult it is to stand up to people, and how much harder it would be to stand up to your friends. Sometimes in life you have to do that. I told her about the time my best friends in the world asked me to do drugs, and they all did, but I said no. How I sat apart from them feeling alone. And how that was one of the most difficult experiences of my life. And she talked about how far apart she is getting from her friends. How they want to be all grown up; do and say teenager things, and watch teenager shows, and wear teenager clothes and how she  is happy just being 7.

and...That makes my heart happy.
and it's all thanks to Neville Longbottom.

The World According to Emily

I have seriously neglected my blogging. When I first started the blog, I had every intention of keeping it about our family life and the girls growing up...a "keepin' up with the Jensens" sort of thing. But, I'm more then just a mom and while I love my kids tremendously (I'm sure no one doubts that) I am more then my roll as a mom. Sometimes I think we lose our identity in our children. Is it wrong? Is it bad? No, they are a part of us and make up the vast majority of our joy (and frustration); they make up our lives. But sometimes I just want to not talk about diapers, speech therapy, how to get sharpie off of hard wood floor, and nutritious foods at economic prices! I mean, I've got thoughts on gun control and the only person I seem to get to share them with is a three year old who's biggest current issue is that the good Lord seemed to have made her with no volume control. Sometimes I just want to talk about the world according to Emily.
I just turned 27. It wasn't good. It wasn't bad and the world did not end. But I'm firmly in my latter twenties and that is strange. I went to the mall the other day, put on my super cute wrap dress and my black boots. I noticed a few college age boys staring at me and smiling, trying to catch my eye, and I'm like "I've still got it, I'm one hot mom!"  Right?!? "I'm cute, I'm foxy, I'm working it"...wrong, there were Cheerios stuck to my butt. But, I still made them look good!
I get to work a couple days a week. I like my job taking pictures at the portrait studio. It's nice to be creative and develop a new skill. My hours have been reduced and the girl who manages the place is not someone I'm a huge fan of. People always ask me why I don't quit, and the answer is simply, most the time I really enjoy what I do. I get to see a lot of different people and get to know a ton of great kids, some I get to see every week or every month. I have three favorites: Alex, this great little smiley guy who melts my heart. Kypton, who looks like he fell out of a baby GAP ad, and little Sophia, who has been coming in every week since she was born and is now a beautiful happy 1 year old. And there are countless other awesome kids and families that I get to hang out with everyday I'm there.  Also, as much as I love staying home with my kids It's good to get dressed and get out of the house and speak to adults.When I first started working after 5 years of being home I was a little rusty. Someone would say " Hi Emily how are you today" and I'd say: "Thanks!" or "I good" or someone would say "You look nice today!" and I'd say "Good". but now I think have at least a slightly better grasp on my language skills.
A few days ago, A group of business men came in from a financial firm in Cedar Falls. We get a lot of brokers, realtors, and insurance agents who want business photos for billboards, business cards, bus benches, circulars, websites, and facebook pages. These are some of my favorites. The boss and senior partner in the firm showed up an hour early and sat waiting while I took pictures of a little boy, and answered phone calls and then took 4 passport photos who had appointments ahead of him. When the rest of his group arrived I took their photos. He didn't say a word to me and didn't smile the whole time. He was unrufflle-able and everyone seemed incredible intimidated by him. We chose the group of photos they wanted and he paid. When he was leaving he turned around and said, "You aren't from Fort Dodge are you?" and I said "No. Why?" and he said, "I just didn't get Fort Dodge off you. You were incredibly professional and did great job. If you are ever interested in a different line of work give me a call." and handed me his business card.  I've been offered countless jobs but that was by far the most meaningful. I got the feeling even being a secretary for this guy would be pretty lucrative. Anyway, not really seeming like someone from around here, is one of the nicest compliments I've received in a long time.
It's Paisley's 2nd birthday today. I've got to make that sweet little thing a birthday cake. It's so funny. Our first two kids were planned to the month and little Paisley was the biggest best surprise of all!!! Now, we couldn't imagine life without her in it.
Thanks for letting me ramble, Em

Happy New Year

     So every year I fully intend to write a Christmas letter. Every year I either don't start it, start it but don't finish it,  finish it but don't get them sent out, or get them sent out in February.  In the first week of December when I start getting Christmas letters I marvel at the time and energy some people have; elaborate photo shoots and beautiful embossed envelopes. WHAT?!?! Who has time for this?!
     I am not overly fond of  the Christmas letter because it clearly has become an excuse to brag about your accomplishments and/or list your ailments.  I have one friend who sends out a three page front and back letter in the tiniest font every year. (Merry Christmas: I got you an incredibly boring novel)  On the other hand I have a friend who sends me a one page piece of holiday paper in a reasonable font making being a stay at home mom sound like saving the world, one perfect sugar-sheilded child at a time. (Merry Christmas- You're not good enough) I saw something on Pinterest the other day that said something along the lines of "the reason we aren't satisfied is that we compare our lives to everyone else's highlight reel"  Which I find totally true. People put their best face on in front of the world and you rarely see them for what they truly are.  True to form, I did not get a Christmas Letter sent out this year so I'd like to leave this with you here:

An Honest Christmas Letter
With a little help from a rhyming dictionary

From The Jensen's 

2012 (Just barely)

Twas the Eve before New Years, when all through the house.

All three girls were fighting over the computer mouse
The laundry still flung all over the chair,

Because mom, in pajamas, quite frankly... didn't care .

The children were jumping in their unmade beds,
While visions of acrobats danced in their heads.
And Mama watched netflix, not giving a crap,

exhausted, overwhelmed, and needing a nap

When out of the kitchen there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the doorway I flew like a flash,

Leaping over toys with great flair and panache.

The floor in the kitchen was littered with play-dough
an entire box of cereal, and a bowl of green jello.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, 
But a bag of mini-marshmallows and my zebra brassiere.
 
Three girls in the mess, caught quite red-handed 
Upon seeing the fury they quickly disbanded!
Laughing and squealing, swiftly they ran!
Shouting and yelling the call of Tarzan.

"Now Paisley! Now, Fairon! And you too Brighton!"
"get your tushes back in here!" I tried to frighten
From corner to corner, wall to wall
The mess was so big, so deep, and so tall.
 
I sat for a second and put up my feet
surveyed the destruction and admitted defeat.
I got out the broom and swept up the crumbs
maybe I threatened to tan three little bums.  

When in they came, one by one.
I handed them towels and we got the job done.
We tidied the kitchen then the living room next
And when we were done I asked them perplexed,

"You're Lucky You're Cute! Now what were you thinking?!?"
Because honestly, I hadn't an inkling.
"For less then a minute you were out of sight!"
all I do is clean from dawn until twilight.

And in the moment when I'm completely depressed
I get hugs and kisses and remember I'm blessed. 
Three sweet little girls
a house full of: pink, and glitter, and pearls.
Naked barbie dolls and stray little socks,
little purple panties, little wood blocks.
Sweet morning giggles, reading books, singing songs
and I remember this is where I  belong.   
Are there things more noble? Are there things of more worth?  
 I wouldn't trade this for all the treasures of Earth.

As I'm writing this one child bit another
AHH! The sweet joys of being a mother
From our chaos to yours, much to our delight
Merry Christmas, Happy New Years!!!!
And too all a Good Night!

 

  

  

Hot Water

When I'm feeling lost or stressed out...I bake. Consequently, I bake a lot. I like to make anything from scratch; it soothes me. There is something so incredibly satisfying about following a recipe and knowing that if I mix flour, sugar, eggs, and butter together I will get something wonderful every time. It's more about the process then the eating, although lets not discount the eating.  I love to make people laugh and I love to make people desert. Both are so good for the soul you know.
My mother is one of those rare human beings who can take a pinch of this and a dash of that, who can without a recipe envision a cookie, cake, or frosting and just make it happen. I have always marveled at that. (it seems to have skipped a generation, that skill) I remember as a little girl my mom had an old yellowing cookbook that my sister and I used to make recipes out of, one of which was called "HOT WATER Chocolate Cake". I've never had a chocolate cake so good in my life. The cookbook has long since parted ways with our family. But, I have always remembered it as the best chocolate cake recipe of my life.
For birthdays my mom always asked Elizabeth and I what kind of cake we wanted, and she made it happen. Intricate frosting dresses on Barbie cakes. A dirt cake in a plastic flower pot with gummy worms and artificial flowers 'growing' out of it. Sometimes being a twin is hard, being a twin in a big family is especially difficult but my mom tried hard to make us feel like we were individuals and special. For birthdays especially.  Now that I'm an adult I see things from childhood with different eyes, with the eyes of a mother and can not for the life of me fathom how my mother managed it all.

Flash forward if you will a few years to a newly married Emily, three months to be exact, trying to plan a little birthday party for my new husband. Daniel and I grew up a little differently.  For his birthday every year he had "Man Cake" as it has come to be known, to him and his three brothers. A store bought Duncan Hines mix with chocolate chip and store bought chocolate frosting.  He insisted that this tradition be carried on for himself and our kids. I chose to veto it for our children. Also, birthdays aren't exactly a big deal for him. If you ask him what he wants he says 'nothing'. His only expectation of birthdays is that he gets his man cake. So for the last 5 years, he has had a store bought Duncan Hines mix with chocolate chips and a chocolate frosting for his birthday. Which is like bordering on sacrilegious for me. I have pleaded with him to let me make him a REAL chocolate cake, but he refuses. Anywho, it's the man's only request, so I honored it until this year. I finally found the "HOT WATER chocolate cake" recipe on Pinterest of places and insisted upon making it for him for his birthday. I won't rub it in.... You know, how right I was, how gloriously right I was...but he won't be having anymore box mix birthday cakes.

Here it is:
2 C. White Sugar
1 3/4 cups all purpose flour
3/4 cup cocoa powder
1 1/2 tsp Baking powder
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1 cup buttermilk ( or you can sub. by putting 1 tsp white vinegar into 1 cup whole milk and letting it sit for a few minutes, it's not as good but it works in a pinch)
1/2 cup butter melted
1 T vanilla
1 Cup Boiling hot water (you can also use coffee but I don't)

MIX MIX MIX MIX
Bake for 350 degrees for about 30-35 minutes. Let cool, frost, enjoy perfection.

Through trial and error this is my frosting recipe:

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter ( I cook with butter I never substitute)
2/3 cup Cocoa
3 cups powdered sugar
1/3 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Melt butter. Stir in cocoa. Alternately add powdered sugar and milk, beating to spreading consistency.
add vanilla, and more milk if needed.


I hope your loved one enjoys it as much as mine do. ~Em

Emily

Oh yeah. I've been putting off writing this one. It's an update on me. So, I'm a mother of three girls which is a full time job and then some. Being a mom is the hardest most rewarding thing I have ever done. I love my girls beyond reason. Even though being a mom is a HUGE chunk of my life, I'm more then just Brighton, Fairon, and Paisley's mom; I'm Emily. (does anyone remember her?) And Emily turned 26 this year. AND 26 has been hard.  About 25 I decided I should probably have my act together by now...You know make my bed in the morning and fall into it at a decent time of night; maybe have a more then 25 cents in my checking account the day before payday. I'm only doing slightly better. Some people my age are finishing grad school now, getting married, and having kids on purpose. Where I have personally been up to my neck in breastmilk for a half dozen years. Sometimes, the things I have done seem so pale in comparison. 
I started working in Feburary after staying home full time for almost 6 years. Working has been challenging and rewarding. I find it soothing to create things, and most of the time my job as a photographer is really wonderful. It makes for really interesting people watching too. 'Picture day' is one of the most stressful days in a parents life. I've learned a lot about being a mom in the portrait studio. Like the mom who is screaming at her children and then answers her ringing cell phone with a sweet gentle 'hello' . You know what that means to me...it means you are capable of controlling yourself when you choose too. Have you ever noticed how often we treat guests better then our own family? I once heard a mom talk about how she was busy yelling at her kids for spilling juice on the carpet when they had company over, then one of their guests spilled the same juice on the same carpet, that mom was so completely forgiving. Moms lose their tempers, I'm am by know means perfect, but shouldn't we treat our children better then strangers?

So, this year I have gained and lost the same ten pounds a dozen times. I hate it!!!! (currently 143) I've come to the conclusion that I will probably spend my entire life juggling my love of food and my love of fitting into a size 6. (really an 8)  Quite a lot of people know I struggle with depression. It's not a secret and I'm not really ashamed of it. It's just a burden I have to bear. Sometimes it's much worse then others. It's currently worse, but I think I'm on the upswing. It's funny when I am consumed with my life just the day to day: Alarm, laundry, wake up kids, brushing three little mop top heads and morning breath teeth, getting myself and three kids dressed, finding socks and shoes and backpacks and breakfast, and  making sure they went potty and making sure that homework is done, walking kids to the bus stop, goodbye kisses, then home for more dishes and more laundry, cleaning up a 24 messes, and watching sesame street with Paisley and answering 'what' when someone says 'mom' 167974 times and all before 10 am. AND just when I think I'm going to scream someone says " I love you mom" or " You're the bestest mom in the whole wide world." or hugs me or kisses my cheek or says "Damn you look beautiful today." Anyway to take my own advice I gave someone earlier this week: Count your blessings. Water your own grass. Adjust your perspective. Life is hard but it's beautiful.

This is my second year as the President of the Young Women in our church. Which is probably the greatest single calling I have ever held, EVER! It is so cool to hang out with the teen girls in our church just as they are deciding who they want to be, and to think that I maybe, just maybe have the tiniest of positive impact on them, is amazing.

Anyway, this is getting long. I'll finish up.

Emily at 26
Likes:
Talking to my twin sister (She lets me complain about my life and helps me see the good and never ever lies to me, like when I asked her if the red screaming newborn in my lap was really as beautiful as I thought she was)
Talking to my friend Nicole ( She helps me rationalize every decision I have ever made, including eating cake for breakfast because it 'keeps my metabolism guessing')
Talking to my husband ( He loves me at my worst, he deserves a medal.)
Morning giggles
Little girl kisses
heart to hearts with Brighton
New words from Fairon
New words from Paisley
Dancing in the kitchen
Getting to say YES to the kids
Making people laugh
Jumping on the trampoline without peeing myself
Getting to hang out with my mom and my dad, They are some of my biggest fans and cheerleaders.

Dislikes:
Not having my husband around
Being socially awkward
mom guilt
feeling lost or unaccomplished
Anything to do with debt
sick kids
Stretch marks
peeing myself when I jump on the trampoline
That cookies aren't calorie-free
I can no longer eat more then a ONE slice of pizza, That I can't drink chocolate milk or egg nog, or apple cider without my gallbladder FREAKING  out and punishing me.
Migraines

I forgot to end with my customary funny or positive message which is always my goal...but I'm tapped out. Lots of love reader. Thanks for making to the end.

Daniel

 So last week I wrote in the blog an update for each of  our girls and what they are like at their respective ages.  Dan jokingly said he now expected a blog post about what he is like at 29.  This morning I am happy to oblige!

If you asked me to describe Daniel in one word I could do it simply. It would be 'kind'. He is one of the kindest most thoughtful people on this planet that I have ever encountered. He spends a good part of everyday thinking about how he can help others but he doesn't stop there he actually does something.  Then he comes home from work and serves his family; helps with household chores and LOVES his children. He never wants anything and is really great at recognizing his blessings. And at the end of everyday he kicks himself for not doing more for people.

There are people in this world who can be distrustful of kindness, because so often when kindness is done something is expected in return.  But if you knew Dan you would know he is simply and purely good. I say it all the time: You show me someone who doesn't like Dan and I'll show you someone I don't trust.  Dan gets on my case about being fiercely loyal to him, partially because I threaten to punch in the throat any one who has ever wronged him, but I can't help it, the good things of this world need to be protected.

I don't want to make him sound super human or flawless. He is always making me late for example, and I HATE to be late. It makes me feel out of control and yet it takes him longer to get ready every morning then it does for me to get myself and three whole other people ready to completion. I know we can be nauseatingly in love sometimes and that's all people see but trust me we have cross words with each other too. I say 'we love hard, we play hard, we fight hard, we pray hard.' 

Dan is FREAKED out to turn 30 next year. He has like 4 grey hairs near his temples that I tease him about but secretly love.  I don't know why he is worried about getting older, he is pretty accomplished I think. He has three healthy beautiful girls, a house that doesn't do too much leaking, a decent job,  a couple cars, and a smoking hot wife.  

Anyway, I won't gush too much. I think he's the bees knees and I love him very much. He rights my world and keeps this girl grounded.  He tells me he loves me a dozen times a day, not that I had any doubts.  I think he is probably the best choice I've ever made in my life and I'd choose him again, every time.

Brighton

Since the last time I really used my blog (February) Brighton hit a little milestone of her own, She turned 5!  Is it possible for me to have a five year old?
Yep, Ain't she beautiful -------->

    I know as a mom you aren't supposed to love one of your children more then the other. And I don't love any one of my girls more then the others, but I do love them differently. They all three of them are different and have different challenges and strengths.
    Paisley for instance, as the baby gets the benefits of parents who know what they are doing, we have a little experience at this point...but she also has to share those parents with two others.
    Fairon gets a raw deal, everything is a hand-me-down and just as she is starting to get used to it we take it away and hand it to her baby sister. But She benefits from wiser parents then her older sister had and has never gotten hand-me-down love.

   And poor Brighton, She dealt with me and Dan as first time parents.  She went to the emergency room for a cough. She listened to her mother cry, up to my elbows in poop, about how I would NEVER be able to wear clean clothes again. She dealt with an over packed diaper bag that still managed to not contain the things we needed....like diapers. She did managed to walk despite the serious disadvantage of never being put down.  She got shampoo in her eyes, had to eat sweet potatoes, wore a helmet to go sledding, and suffered through a mother's inept attempt to cut her bangs.  But she did get time; a whole lot of time, attention, affection, and love.

    Brighton is so smart she scares the pants off me! She is a great older sister most of the time, and makes tons of concessions to keep her little sisters happy. She is slightly over dramatic, but let's face it  she comes by that naturally. She doesn't like to cuddle.  She is is a total type A personality!  She acts responsibly most of the time. Sometimes we say she was born 30 years old.

She loves:

Art, painting, coloring, scrapbooking, crafts,

reading, science, nature, 

She's really interested in: 

learning to ride her bike, the states, the presidents, and WHY everything exists.

Her favorites: Best Friend is Ella

Favorite show: Frannie's Feet, Pinky Dinky Doo, Wild Kratts

Fav. Color: Think PINK!

Loves to experience new things

Enjoys baking

Dislikes:

Unplugging

Brushing her teeth

Getting her Hair done

Lima Beans

Speaking or singing in public

Meeting new people

 Brighton is an all around exceptional 5 year old, I'm so proud to be her helicopter mom!

Fairon

I'm going to throw people for a loop and actually blog two WHOLE days in a row. I thought it was only a natural progression that I tell you how about Miss Fairon Nicole. She just turned THREE!

You know how people, when they say something negative about their child, always immediately follow it up with how much they love them? Gosh that annoys me. I just like when people tell the truth. I know you love your child even if you are struggling with them. 

Fairon is a stinker. She is a challenge. She is difficult. She is strong willed. She is independent.  She is just like me.
AND I love her. See, it's hard not to do.

Three is a tough age. I'm not sure why people say 'terrible twos' because three is so much worse! But with Fairon she was just born this way. Everything has to be her idea. She has to master everything. Did you know that Fairon is an American variation of an Irish name Farren? Which seemingly  has a hundred different meanings that all seem to boil down to: Stubborn and Spirited.  I felt God gave me that name for her, turns out it was perfect. Perhaps I should have done some more research.

    Fairon is a little mother. She is so compassionate and empathetic. She feels ALL her feelings to their highest degree. She adores her little sister and her father, and merely tolerates me and Brighton. Fairon's affections are hard to win, but that makes them more valuable.  She is complex, wonderful, and difficult to describe. She has that X factor. We call her our little Warrior Artist.

 Fairon Likes:

Music

Calliou and Dora

Paisley

Purple

Art in every form

Praise

Reading

Everything HER Way

Fairon Dislikes:

Lima Beans

Having to accept help

Not being able to make the letter sounds, F, V, TH, X

Having to share with Brighton

Not going to preschool everyday

Shoes

Sleeping in her own bed

     She is deeply smart, but people have a hard time seeing it because she lacked language skills for almost three years. She is a total character, extremely dramatic, and expressive. It's how she first learned to  communicate. She wears her heart on her sleeve. She is an awesome combination of strong and sensitive.  I admire her and fear for her because I see so much of myself in this one. 

     She is beautiful; Always puts her shoes on the wrong feet and will fight you till the death if you suggest she did something wrong.  I have always felt really strongly that God gave me a sliver of myself to teach me, not to tame her, but to love her for who she is and ultimately to love myself.

 

Paisley

     I have been slightly bogged down lately with all the things it takes to make a life: laundry, bills, work, dishes, baths, dinner, bedtime stories, teeth brushing, hugs, boogers, diapers, shopping, pinterest.  

      It's been awhile since I stopped and really evaluated my blessings, and that has to start with my greatest blessings, my beautiful girls.  We just passed a milestone with Miss Paisley Morgan, who recently turned 18 months old.

    Our little mop top is about the sweetest little chickadee you'd ever want to meet. She is even-tempered and a total mommy's girl. She follows me where ever I go, if she is not playing with her second mom, Fairon.  She has a million kilowatt smile that lights up her face, and she shares with everyone...except the pediatrician. 

    Paisley is fond of music and art. No surprises there as she follows in the footsteps of her older sisters, and has been holding a crayon beside them since she was 6 months old.

  A few of her favorite things:

Baths

Rubber duckies

Elmo

Yo Gabba Gabba

 Fairon

Oreos

Crayons

Stickers

Breastmilk

Mortal Danger

New Words

Things she isn't excited by:

Clothing

Diaper Changes

Hair Brushes

Hair Ties

Shampoo

Eye Doctors

Actual Toys

Mom Working

 Sleeping Through the Night

This kid has a serious knack for getting into trouble and the sweetest face to apologize with.Case in point this morning she pushed a chair over to the cupboard climbed up and pulled a couple steak knives out of the drawer. She is learning new words everyday: Book, Duck, Jesus, Stuck, Sick, Bump, Sis, Dada, Mama, Eyes, Thanks, Ears, Glasses, Poop, Stink, Yucky, and Bright. She can point to all her body parts and some shapes like circle and star. Her favorite songs are "open shut them" and "I'm Elmo and I know it".

 

Her eyes are still hazel although less green then they were 6 months ago. She is FINALLY getting the last of her little teeth in, which I pray will be over soon. Her curls are loosening up which makes me wonder if by next year she'll have straight hair like the other girls.

I'm blessed to be this sweet baby's mama, if all children were like this I'd have a dozen!