Is this NOT amazing????? Crazy! And where do I sign up??? (I mean, if my bladder wasn't completely ruined by 4 pregnancies. I'd pee my pants with every single jump! LOL!) Where exactly do you look up "jump rope lessons"?

Feel Good Friday and Letters Of Intent

1. THE most delicious pumpkin pie, smothered in very extra creamy whipped cream and a tall glass of milk to chase it down with.

2. I'm getting the hang of my new crochet hobby!

3. I *think* I am getting used to my pretty terrible haircut.

4. I am watching "It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown." And that is epic.

5. Two more days to Halloween (we're trick or treating on Saturday) and I'm about as excited as my kids.

************************************

Dear Politicians,

As much as I appreciate your ability to recognize discrepancies in other people, and to spend campaign dollars making commercials pointing fingers, I am telling you right now that I am not going to vote for you if all I hear from you is "So-and-so voted for this bad thing, and raised taxes while giving himself a raise."

In all actuality, I am 100% more likely to vote for a guy I completely disagree with for the simple reason that I know exactly where he stands on such novel items as ~gasp~ the topics at hand. For ME, it is much more of a window into the type of guy you are that you have nothing better to do than bash your opponent.

Is honesty important? Sure. But if it's your WHOLE campaign, then you don't deserve my vote.

Signed,

Grow up. You're not in 3rd grade anymore.

*********************

Dear People Who Make Commercials; AKA Dream Smashers,

Is it absolutely necessary that you mention "stocking stuffers" and portray mom or dad buying your product and then flash forward to kids opening presents on Christmas morning marked "From Santa"? I mean, maybe that's okay if you're on prime time and you're advertising dishes or a crock pot or paint, or something that a child would otherwise not be watching or paying attention to- but when it's a toy? You have GOT to be kidding me.

My kids are pretty observant, I'll admit, but you're making it obvious. Please, for the love of Santa, keep your trap shut and just advertise without betraying the sacred secret of Santa Claus.

Signed,

BELIEVE!!!!!

**********************

Wordless Wednesday

A gorgeous florescent tree outside my Lilly's school.

These bushes are hideous for the whole rest of the year. But for a few precious months, they turn a startling and beautiful candy colored pink.

This is a kind of vine found ALL OVER my town's fences and it happened to climb an evergreen tree. It looks awesome.

Touchy Topic Tuesday: The Name Game

Touchy Topic Tuesday:

The Name Game

I come from a family full of kids with unusual names. Of course, you all know my name is Brae (Bray), I have a brother, Biege (Beej), a sister, Bergan, and a youngest brother Bozton.

My children don't have any strange names, though i HAVE been told that my girls have old lady names, and, yes, my son's name is less than common.

Anyway, who the heck cares?

Finding a baby name is one of my favorite parts of being pregnant. I am not the biggest fan of pregnancy in the first place. I'm a pretty tiny girl, so as soon as I get past the morning sickness, which plays out for 16 weeks as my worst nightmare, I get uncomfortable. Fast. There's not much room between my ribs and my hips, and a baby fills the space in record time.

Back aches, water retention, constipation, pinched nerves, insomnia, out of control emotions and the list goes on. I am not a fan. I LOVE my sweet babies. Which is why I do this. But I don't like pregnancy.

So, finding out if my baby is a boy or girl, and then spending hours, days and weeks pouring over books, internet sites, and throwing out polls on birth boards searching for a perfect name, arguing with Brandon over weirdness, exactly what is IN the name that can provoke ridicule from other kids, uniqueness, and other factors, is one of the things that gets me through the 9 months of pain and suffering that is pregnancy.

In roughly 10-12 weeks, we are going to have a beautiful new baby boy who will be a perfect little blank slate for me to spend the next 18 years screwing up, and apologizing to, and his name is one Brandon and I have had picked out since we were waiting to find out if Scarlet was a boy or girl.

His name will be Teague Liam MacCool.

Since I spent said months pouring over books and internet sites, etc, as was mentioned above, while waiting to find out about my new little one, I had a perfect girls name picked out too.

Earlier today, I took my youngest two children (as Lilly was in school) to a Halloween party thrown by two of my friends here. In all, there were 5 of us, and 12 children between us. While the children ran amok in their Halloween costumes, and ate pumpkin shaped ham and cheese sandwiches and waaaaaay too much candy, the moms chatted. Eventually, the conversation turned to our children, their names, what they meant and where we got them from.

As I am pregnant, I was asked what we would be naming this new baby, and, of course, I told them. I also mentioned that, if we have another girl, her name will be Hazel.

One of the other women turned around, a slight flash of fire in her eyes, and in mock good nature, slapped my shoulder. "But that's OUR name if we have another girl!"

My answer? In jest, I said "Well, I guess it's a race then, huh?"

I unintentionally left her speechless.

Of course, I laughed and shook my head, and told her "Then use it! I didn't make it up. If you want to use it, go for it! And if there are two Hazels in the same class, well, it won't be any different from there being two Ashleys or two Sarahs."

All the other women agreed, we had a laugh, and the conversation turned.

My mother has always had the opinion that one should never reveal a baby name until the baby is in your arms. In fact, I remember always waiting at my grandparents' house just waiting for the phone call to find out the name of my new baby brother or sister. That's right. The baby's name wasn't even a family secret. It was a well guarded secret which she protected with her life.

The theory is, if you tell someone your baby's name, someone who is due before you will inevitably "steal" it. So you keep it a secret so that no one else can have it. Like it's a precious gem. Like it's something no one has ever thought of before in the entire history of the planet.

Daily I see posts about this on my birth board. "Name stealing." And not just name stealing, but people get upset about someone using a name that even SOUNDS remotely like the name they have chosen.

For example, I once read a vent about someone who planned on naming her new girl Lulu- a name she says she had picked out as a little girl. Some good friends of the family had a daughter named Leelou, who was somewhere around 9 years old, and threatened removal of friendship if said woman were to keep her child's name.

Once, someone was seen to be venting online about a neighbor who was more of an acquaintance, naming their new dog Lily, which is the name they had chosen for their daughter.

However, when I was pregnant with my second baby, my first son, Mahone, I happened to live in a neighborhood which was full of pregnant women all due very near the same time I was. Out of 9 of them, 6 of them had boys.

And I blabbed Mahone's name all over the place.

Oh, sure, I endured a lot of ridicule. Many people thought it was too strange, too foreign, or came up with all types of things that kids could use to make fun of it. One woman even told me that, in Spanish, it means the word sh*t, which, after only brief research, it was obvious that it does not. (As a matter of fact, it's an Irish word that means 'bear')

I just happen to be of the opposite opinion of my mom. The truth is, I sort of feel that, if my baby's name is out there and everyone knows about it, well, if someone 'steals' it, then everyone else will know that I chose it first. The name is something that was mine to begin with, even if my baby was given it later.

Anyway, in addition to my opinion that everyone should know my baby's name as soon as I do, if only for the fact that they know I'll be using it, I just honestly don't even care if someone uses the name I chose. And personally, I've never been in one place for more than two years since I've been married.

Now, I suppose that if it were one of my siblings or Brandon's siblings who decided to use the name I had planned, then to just go ahead and use the name might not be an option. Could get a little bit weird. But, for the most part, I think that getting upset over someone who works with you or lives near you using the name you have picked out is just petty. It's a name. There's no patent. Just use the name yourself.

So there you have it. Let it be known that if we are given another baby girl, her name will be Hazel. It's not changing. Or, at least, if it DOES change, it'll be because I loved a name I found more than I love Hazel. Not because someone else uses it.

******************************************

How about you?

Do you think it's a better idea to keep your baby's name a secret? Do you divulge the name? What would you do if someone close to you used the name? Would you change it? Would you confront them? Would you still use that name?

Let us know!

Lilly said...

"Mom, Zarah has a mommy and a daddy tooth."

Translation: A friend of Lilly's at school has two adult teeth.

My newest quest.

I love projects.

I love to create. In fact, I have a very dominant NEED to create. For me, there is nothing more stifling than a moment that isn't filled with a chunk, ball, coil or otherwise pile of something that is nothing but can, with my hands and vast imagination, be turned into something. Particularly if that something can end up being wonderful, unique and desired by someone else.

After all, in my opinion, if I create something that is only of use or interest to myself but no one else, then I have failed entirely.

I have many hobbies.

My blog for example, which is wonderful for me because as it grows, as I read other blogs, become friends and share things about my life with you, my blog becomes a source of constant validation...which, for my ego, is a must.

I sculpt (i know you probably didn't know this about me. It's not my most prominent hobby. I don't spend a lot of time on it any more- but I can't bring myself to get rid of my supplies.) with polymer clay.

I make Fairy Wings (www.thegossamerjewelbox.blogspot.com to see lots and lots of pictures, or visit www.gossamerjewelbox.etsy.com to order your very own pair!)

I quilt, I am an amiture model and photographer. I sing, until i broke my ankle, I was a ballroom, ballet, swing and Irish dancer. I Make spoon charms and jewelry, and I love all things crafty.

In the mean time, somewhere, I perform motherly and wifely duties, clean my house, and, if there's any time left, I sleep.

Sooooooo, since I NEED another hobby to occupy my extensive amounts of extra time, I am learning to crochet. (Note the gooey mess of sarcasm pooling on my keyboard.)

When I was a child, I spent hours upon hours rolling her variant colors of yarn into big soft balls, and sticking the needles into it like it was some kind of spindly atom.

It wasn't long, though, before I was a grown up and completely loathed the thought of crochet. And knitting, and whatever else to do with yarn.

Yarn=fat and ugly.

I purposely missed the Relief Society meetings where the 'older' women were going to teach us 'younger' women how to do these works of art.

I know, I know- a lot of people out there crochet...but with stigmas like:

(Really? Do you REALLY think this looks prettier sitting on your side board or end table than the bare box of tissue?)

(um.....WHERE would one put this?)


(One can never have too many pot holders.)




(How is this NOT tacky?)





('nough said.)

(~Sigh~)

However, last Christmas, I bought both of my daughters knitted ponchos that were just adorable. They are very colorful, with flowers and long goblin hoods that come to a tasseled point on the tip. They are so cool, and inspire all kinds of elf photography (once again: www.thegossamerjewelbox.blogspot.com )

Unfortunately, Scarlet took a loose end on hers and unraveled a huge hole in her poncho. And I cried.

I THINK my mother in law will be able to fix it. I can't knit. And I am learning to crochet instead. It seems easier. And one of my requirements for my hobbies (and one of the biggest reasons that I don't sculpt very often anymore) is instant (or at least sort of soon) gratification. i hate projects that take for freaking ever to get done- which is probably the only reason I haven't yet picked up house renovations.

I recently ordered a whole bunch of pointed elvish hat and shoe patterns off of etsy.com. It seems that, even though past crochet projects were nothing but hideous, all those crafty, chic and creative women out there, are coming up with infinite creations that really are wonderful and unique. I can't wait! I'll post pictures of anything that turns out decent! I promise!

Feel Good Friday and Letters of Intent

I am happy.

I really mean that.

I have been through a lot of unhappiness in my lifetime, and there's no one to blame but myself. Throughout my marriage, we have been in and out of 'good' spots. There were times where we almost called it quits, when our ideas of marriage, love, and how a relationship should be were skewed so that we didn't recognise what we had, we only wanted what we THOUGHT we SHOULD have.

I am exhausted at all hours of the day. Having 2 hours of sleep or 10 hours of sleep leaves me with no difference in my spunk.

I have severe hormonal attitude with people who say rude and insensitive things to me about my children, my life, or my pregnancy. Apparently, I don't know the meaning of taking the high road. Because I always have to retort.

I have children who drive me insane every single day, though, really, if they were THAT bad, I wouldn't be having another one. So that must say a lot about exactly the way I feel about them.

I don't have everything. I worry about money. I want things I can't have. I can't always afford the lessons or things my children want. But I can honestly say I have never, in my entire life, been happier than I am now. I adore my husband, who is so infinitely wonderful at putting up with me, my hobbies (which are so many in number that I couldn't begin to list them right now- and it probably goes without saying that they actually add to the money problems we have. LOL.) who supports me constantly, who thinks that I get prettier every single day when the mirror obviously lets me know that I am simply growing older, fatter, grayer and wrinklier. Yes, I'm 28. I still think I'm old.

I think a lot of my happiness has to do with him. Family in general is wonderful. But I think, when I look at what my options were back in the day, if given the same beautiful, intelligent, hilarious, and otherwise precious children with all the same quirks and personalities they own today, having the same lifestyle I do now, in the same house, the same town, the same van, the same everything, while dealing with any of the men I had been seriously involved with, and their attitudes, their ideas about me and what I should have been or what I wasn't doing or was doing that bothered them, and imagining what my life might be like...well, I honestly think that I would not be anywhere NEAR as happy as I am.

In one case, I'm sure I'd be divorced. In the other case, I think I would have been repressed. That man had a tendency to be overzealous about women's rights. It's very funny, because his intention was to be supportive of our freedoms, but he really failed to see that part of our having freedoms is that we are still able to choose to be mothers, and to stay home with those children if we feel it is best for them, which I always did, and he always thought it was a bad example for any girl children. Repression. He was such a nonconformist that he became a conformist.

Yes, happiness really doesn't rely on anyone but ourselves. But it really does help when you have wonderful people around you. And I sure lucked out.

That's what's making me feel good today.

*********************************

To my very own resident Utah Driver (Brandon):

My minivan is not your tiny little sports car. Doing 3 point turn on the middle of busy main street while making cars stop behind you and wait for you to finish your 'u turn' is neither safe nor legal. I don't care how many right turns you have to take, or if you have to pull into a parking lot to turn around, you have my precious babies in that van and you'd better obey the laws.

Signed,

I'm not kidding. Maybe I'd better drive next time.

********************************

I don't know how to be sensitive about this, so here it goes:

I'm severely sorry to those who have trouble getting pregnant. I really am. I hope that you are able to have your children soon, and I'm sure you'll be lovely, wonderful parents.

In the mean time, I'm not going to avoid you, pretend that my pregnancy isn't painful, stop my pregnancy updates that automatically post to my facebook each week, or laugh when you tell me to cross my legs, ask if I know what birth control is, or tell me that my vagina is not a clown car.

I'm sorry- but those posts aren't put there to rub salt on your wounds. They are put there because I have every right to talk about how I'm feeling, especially considering it's a public domain where it's a general statement, and whoever wants to read and reply can do so, and yes, I know that means you too. But I have near 600 other friends on facebook. You are only one person. If I posted it to YOUR WALL, then that would be rubbing it in. posting it on MY status isn't directed at anyone at all. Besides, I actually have family and other friends who genuinely DO want to know what's going on with me, how my pregnancy is going, and think it's cute to hear some of the things my children say in relation to their new baby brother.

For the record, telling me that I have too many children and that I should stop having them doesn't really make sense.

Babies are not grown in a small pool like a bunch of trout, and whoever has the best bait gets one. It's not a "not enough fish in the sea" kind of thing. If I have 10, it really doesn't diminish your chances of having one. Likewise, if I stop now, simply because you're upset that I'm pregnant and you feel that I should "spread the wealth", it isn't going to increase your chance of getting one either.

I have never been the kind of person to rub it in. I try to be sensitive. But in my opinion, sensitivity works two ways. And no one should make me feel bad about my family choices. I didn't get pregnant to spite you, no matter what you might think. When I tried for months to have another baby, you were not the one I was thinking of when I peed on stick after stick after stick.

My family choices have never, do not now and never will include you.

Signed

You're so vain, you probably think this post is about you.