This is just a tribute.

In February 2011, I wrote in my journal that I was afraid hiring a nanny would make me feel like less of a mother. I was worried that by having someone in my house every day things would be awkward, my kid (then just Mc and K on the way) would attach to this new person and forget me and, someone playing witness to my brand of crazy may or may not help me keep someone for the long term. Then Alexandria came along. It was actually divine intervention from the start. In January, I had mentioned I wanted someone to come and help me with Mc who had taken to eating things from the garbage and ruining everything in her path while I tried to work a full time/at home job. My sister in law mentioned my niece had a friend who may be looking to transition from another family in February. I had checked Care.com, looked at various ads online and was still skeptical about finding someone- all the while, in my head developing this ideal that NO ONE could possible live up to. I couldn't have been more wrong. She started coming every day. Learned our routine. Learned to decipher three year old Mc's tantrums and was there when Kingston was born. Two kids later, Alex stuck around through tantrums, through me deciding that answering the door for her in my robe was acceptable.There when the kids puked and peed on her. Enzo was born. Alex is still a daily standard in our life. Mc goes to school. K goes to school. Alex is still here.

But today, today is the last day of Alex being "here".

During the last few months, there were a few days where all I could say to myself was, "If I can make it to 7:15, just until Alex gets here, I can make it through today." She helped me to get up, to show up and she was the boost that I needed during the darkest days of my life to save face for my kids and keep the normalcy that had once existed. She came with a smile every day.

She taught them Gangum Style, made "Friday, Friday" our favorite day, genuinely laughed and played. Did crafts. Braided hair that could only be replicated by a machine. Dyed eggs. Sidewalk chalked. Worm hunted. Changed poopy bums (for ALL three of my kids). Folded laundry. Did dishes. Organized. Remembered when I couldn't. Sat through movies that were probably painful! Read books. Swam. Took them to the library. The Zoo. Brainstormed. Helped me to stay hip. Brought food, treats and toys. Chauffeured. Danced. Sang. Colored. Took K for a haircut. Sold me on the iPhone 6.  Convinced my children that Thor will be her husband. Valentines. Christmas. Easter. Constant.

What seemed like something in the beginning that made me feel like I would be less of a mother, actually morphed into the sheer perfection of balance that my life so needed. I could do more. I could feel like more of the person I wanted to be because I had someone that loved my kids and wanted what was best for them just as much as I did. I could volunteer in Mc's class. I could be there for my kids more than I could have ever been. I could hold it together. I could feel more accomplished. I could be the "superwoman" I never felt I could be because I had Alex.

So tomorrow, we wake up and life marches on. Life with just me, Mark and the kids. It makes me sad that Enzo won't get the years that Mc and K did. I will wake up and go to work without my daily gossip fest about the Kardashians or "My Strange Addiction". It will all work out and things will eventually fall back into the ebb and flow but, things will for sure never be the same.

Today, May 28, 2015 we said good bye. I didn't cry today (well not when she left) but, it's going to be hard. Selfishly hard. Today, Alex just moved from being "the nanny" to "family"- someone who is at Mc's Kindergarten graduation, Kingston's birthday, brings her boyfriends over for my approval, someone who still plays a huge role in who my kids are and always will be. We love you, Alex Anthony Williamson.

Huddled around the phone watching some video and laughing.

The Original Gangsters.

NINE months, Fools and time flying

9 month check up. 21 lbs!

Since we are a few days away from Enzo turning 10 months, I might as well get up on the nine month post. 8 teeth. Standing. Crawling. Learned to do the stairs in one day. Eats everything. Says "bye bye bye bye". Gives kisses. Loves to ride in the stroller and see the world. Big car seat. 8 Oz bottles. People food. Mop of hair. Needs a whole new wardrobe because K was weating size 12 months AT 12 months- you are already there. Shakes head "no no". Curious. Chunky. Cherubic. 

Enzo and Ezra at 9 months. 

Mckinley got punked this April Fools by Alex. A cleverly disguised packet of oatmeal dressed to look like a chocolate bar, made Mc say that she,"hates this day". That night, we decided to play a little trick ourselves. "Pretend" to cut her hair. We tucked her luscious locks into her shirt and posted this pic to family and Facebook. LOTS of comments about how the "apocalypse must be happening" since we cut her hair. She was SO happy to trick Alex. It was also funny to see people respond when she showed up at school/church with still 2 feet of hair running down her back. I don't think I will ever want to cut her hair. It's my Mckinley Reese's calling card. 

And where did Kindergarten go? Didn't actually buy this picture- but, this little girl grew up so FAST! The difference even from the first of the year- her face, her teeth, her hair. Just turning into an older kid and it makes me a little sad that pretty soon she won't want me to walk her to school or hold her hand in front of her friends. 

You never know what you are going to get.

"Life sucks and then you die."
"Life is like a box of chocolates."
"Life is meant to be enjoyed not just endured."
"Life is for living."

Over the past few months, life has definitely taken a weird and random turn. I am pretty sure I jinxed myself because around the first of the year I made the mistake of saying  "life is good" and didn't anticipate the bottom falling out.

I recently read a talk that mentioned how life would be so much easier- we could bear each other's burdens so much better- if we all wore signs and we could (in the most non-judgmental way) all see what was happening behind closed doors. Signs like, "My wife has cancer", "My depression is off the charts today", "Being a mom makes me feel inadequate", or "I have an addiction".

The signs would only make it easier to deal with those we encounter every day. We could be more patient. We could be more understanding. We could be more forgiving and compassionate. We could be more gentle in our interactions and more forgiving of the human condition.

As I listened to women's conference, it felt good to remember that there is someone who understands perfectly. Someone who never judges or is shocked by the mistakes we make every. single. day. Someone who not only suffered the pain of the sin but also compensates for the emotions that are natural to existence.

I have never before thought of the emotion that accompanies a bad choice (made by myself or someone else) and the need to have those feelings lifted. He not only understands sorrow but jealousy, impatience, greed, anguish, fear, guilt, desperation, anxiety and depression. It is almost hard to fathom that one person, one perfect person could not only feel the sting of sin but also play witness to the slew of emotions that sometimes are worse than the sin itself.

"He knows all that. He’s been there. He’s been lower than all that. He’s not waiting for us to be perfect. Perfect people don’t need a Savior. He came to save his people in their imperfections. He is the Lord of the living, and the living make mistakes. He’s not embarrassed by us, angry at us, or shocked. He wants us in our brokenness, in our unhappiness, in our guilt and our grief."- Sis. Okazaki

How grateful I am to know that he understands. He isn't surprised that I get mad that I lose my patience or I feel inadequate despite his constant love and support. All he wants is for me to feel more confident in his all encompassing Atonement and to have hope that tomorrow, things can be better.

After an awesome evening with Bree, Alina and Charity I got the privilege of being on TV with Carol Mikita. I shared this quote from Pres. Eyring. 

8ight

Nevermind that it is 3/20 and you are almost 9 months old. Better late than skip a month I guess. 8 months has been fun. You have found your voice. You have ALL FOUR top teeth! It's like one day, you had just the two bottom and now, have a full set. You need a haircut- daddy wants to chop it but, I am not quite ready to get rid of these luscious, crazy locks. You love baby food and have moved to the thicker textures which you seems to like better (since you have teeth and all). You don't need the baby bath anymore and are super content to sit and bathe with your brother or sissy. Love the binky. Now ride in the double stroller without your carrier and love to watch all the kids as we pick sissy up from school. You are too big for your carrier- mom's back hurts. Size 12-18 month shirts, size 6-9 month bottoms. You love your momma. You love toys and to put everything in your mouth. You are the sweetest little boy and rarely get fussy unless it's time to eat. You have an infectious laugh and especially love to watch Mc & K dance and play. You learned to army crawl and the house is no longer the same- everything has to be off the floor or it's in your mouth- good thing mom loves to vacuum. Doors have to be shut or we will find you trapped under a chair or bed. You are chubby and smooshy and you have our hearts. 

It's a good thing I have Alex to document my children..otherwise, it might not happen. 

Lucky #7

S E V E N  months! This is one of my favorite ages! Enzo is definitely mobile and is ready to crawl (already assuming the position on his knees). 2 bottom teeth and the top incisor on the way which is making for an unhappy boy. 8 oz bottles. Loves solid food. This chunky boy is a cherub. So happy and easy going. Almost too big for the infant carrier. Has turned into a chatterbox. We have go in and roll you over at least 5 times in the night because you like to sleep on your stomach but hate to wake up and not be able to turn over yourself. Learning to kick and splash in the bath. Sure loves his mama. Still loves the seahorse. Has to have a binkie to sleep. Sissy's new pack around toy. Loves to pull hair and look in the mirror. Time is sure flying Lorenzo Niels!

Kingston says, "I love him. He is my breast, fravorite brudder". 

Wearing pink to support Team Ashlee. 

Sure love these kiddies. 

Hold me closer Tiny Dancer

Miss Mc and Miss Brynlee Jade got to perform in the Dance Concert @ Bingham with Aunt Britty's dance company. After only a few weeks practicing on Saturdays, they did a great job dancing to the Lion King's, "Just Can't Wait to be King". The girls were a crack up! At the end they both bull dogged their way to the front row to make sure they were smack dab in the middle. They were darling!

Mc was so excited to be on stage and wear make up. She knew all the moves, only got trapped in the middle of the circle once and made us proud!

Blue Jean baby. LA lady.

The gift that keeps on giving.

During my Christmas post, I failed to mention the repulsive white elephant gift that Mark so generously brought to the Ellison family party. While my "Poo dough" (Play-do that looks like poo) was funny/bad, Mark's gift was disgusting/awful/red-eyed/bad. I was NOT a happy camper to have this nasty pale rodent in my house for the one day until the party. The kids of course wanted to keep it and named it "Harry" but at 11 PM when I could hear it scratching the top of it's cage trying to get out, I knew it was time for it to go.

Most unfortunately for Sarah MacDuff, she picked the prize. Mark's brother's girlfriend's daughter (still with me?) had a hamster that had died so Sarah let her keep it. I am not sure it lasted more than a week- it looked almost dead in the picture if you ask me.

The only good thing that came from that gift is Mark, while waiting at the pet store was told the true meaning of where "White Elephant" gifts came from. Apparently, there was a rich prince in India. White elephants were prized BUT they were very difficult to take care of. They had to have a gold palace to sleep in, filtered water, expensive food. So, by giving someone a white elephant, you were doing them a disservice because now, they were obligated to take care of the sacred animal. In this case, the "white mouse" was lucky to go home with someone else because I wouldn't have been so obliged to keep it around.