A special Mommy Daughter date

I went on a special date last week with my favorite little girl. It was a surprise date so you can imagine the girly screaming and shouting that went on when she realized where we were... Disneyland! We did whatever she wanted to do, and boy did she run me ragged! I was pooped! Way more than carting all three of them around. High energy does not even begin to describe my baby girl. 
Oh, and P.S.- Guess who is attempting potty training again!? That is right, miss Malia. So far so good. I am sticking to it this time. Wish us luck! I made a special potty chart, she gets to put up stickers for all her #1s and #2s and when it is filled she gets a new toy. She is excited, for now anyway.

Let's take a closer look...

I am sure that those of you who have given birth to children have gone through something like this. In fact, I have spoken to several different friends who feel the same way as me. It is a new concept for me because, as most of you know, our first two children are adopted! Ok, so what the heck am I talking about, right?
It goes a little something like this. Your pregnant, yeah! All our lives we have wondered what kind of beautiful babies we would one day make. Would they have my eyes, my chin, my nose, my ugly feet, etc.? And secretly (most of us I think) want to have that baby coming out looking at least somewhat like us right!? I mean we are the ones that are incubating and creating them for 9+ (+ in my case!) months! 
Don't get me wrong, I love my husband and want my baby to look like him too, but, call it selfish or what you may, I want them to look more like me... insert selfish girly laugh here. 
I know we are all different. Many of you will not agree with me on that. That is ok. I just grew up feeling such a connection to my family, my ancestors, and wanted so badly to have that feeling of pride when I saw my baby and they had some features that came from my gene pool (as I said before, maybe a little more of mine then my hubbies... there is that laugh again). 
Well, lucky for me I married a Mormon. Not just any Mormon, but a Mormon that looks like a Mormon. I mean he has some hard core Mormon genes going on. I have my theories as to why that is (some cross pollination going on back in the pioneer days maybe? ;) ) But still, you can tell those are some strong genes. I mean everyone in his whole family looks the same ( and yes, he is the oldest of 7 children). So, I thought I was doomed. That none of my kids would look like me.
Fast forward, past us finding out we could not have kids, to adopting 2 kids. Yippee! I was fine (remember, I realize this whole post shows some of my true colors, so don't judge me monkey) with our kids not looking like me in that case, just as long as they did not look like him either! And it did not hurt that they both are so beautiful. You can't really complain about that!
And then, fast forward to last year. I get pregnant! Oh how nervous I was. Here comes another confession... I would pray that the baby would look like me. Is that so selfish!? I mean really, that sounds pretty superficial. But really, I was so grateful to be pregnant and immediately repented of my selfish prayer and just prayed for a healthy baby. I felt the situation was helpless and braced myself for a mini-Mike to come out of me. 
Then he was born! He was/is gorgeous! The minute I saw him I was full of gratitude! He looked like the perfect mix of us both. I was so happy.
Then came the "people" as I call them. Seems as soon as you have a baby (birth a baby) everyone wants to put in their two cents about who they look like (remember, no one really did that to me with the first two). The overwhelming consensus was that he looked just like Mike. What!? NO, I swear he looks like me too.
So, after just over a year I have come to today. Time to do a study. I am good with detail right? I mean I am a wedding photographer for crying out loud. I am here to prove my point... this kid is a PERFECT mix of the both of us! And... don't worry, I still love you and respect your opinion if you don't agree with me. ;)

Subject #1- A one Michael Jones. Age:6mo. old

Subject #2- A one Elijah Jones. Age: 6 mo. old 

Subject #3- A one Becky Jones. Age: 6 mo. old 










So, let us begin. What do you think? Want to know what I see? 
1. The obvious, Eli has Mike's mouth, but a little different. Might have a mix of mine in there ?? He has a bigger upper lip than mike did anyway. 
2. He for sure has my eyes. The shape and color. 
3. The hair is a recessive gene, both Mike and I have blonds in our families. My sister has white hair like Eli does. 
4. I believe his nose is a perfect mix of mine and Mikes... a little more like mine though... he has my nostrils.
5. He has my forehead. 
6. He has my huge hands. 
and 7. The rest is just a mix, his face shape is a good mix of us both. Mike says he has my ears but I can't tell. 


Bottom line... I love this kid and am so grateful for him! I hate that, because he is from us, we tend to nit pick more about where he gets what. Think about it, when you see a negative quality in your child you tend to point the finger at yourself or your spouse, like, "oh, he got that from you!". The beauty of adoption, you don't do that! They are completely unique in your eyes, truly their own individual. 
My goal is to try to remember that and treat Eli the same. Give him credit for all of his own good and bad qualities through his life, and be the best Mommy I can be. Thanks for reading my ranting.


And here, just for fun, a Disney moment brought to you by Eli Jones and one from back in the day by Becky Roberts-Jones...

My Pet Project this Month

We are having a special program this month for the teen age girls (young women) at my church (ward). I am one of the leaders in charge and am so excited to put my creativity thinking cap on! So far this is what I have. For those of you who are LDS and looking for a New Beginnings theme here is what we came up with: Be Loyal to the Royal within you
Helping the girls to remember who they truly are and where they came from, that they are the Daughters of a Heavenly King.
We will be making the whole evening a royal event, complete with tiaras and castles! Here is the invite I made out of dowels, those little wood buttons you use to cover holes, gold spray paint and parchment paper. Thanks to my good friend Sarah for coming over and helping me assemble all 50 of them! More to come as the planning and preparation continues!

Where did she go?

I had a third baby, and that seriously just killed my blogging. I miss it, and I miss having that history to look back on over the past year. I also used to take way more pictures. So, my New Years resolution is to 1. Stop drinking soda and 2. to start blogging again. Here it goes! Wish me luck!

To begin, I read this wonderful article and had to share. Enjoy the read and think about how amazing you are... and how not so amazing the people you think are more amazing than you are.

What you don't see, when we all march into church on Sunday morning, is the chaos of the morning that happened just 10 minutes earlier.

What you don't see, when you look at my four little boys in their suits, is that the 7-year-old is wearing Dad's socks because we couldn't find his. And they go all the way up to his knees.

What you don't see, when I pull out the lovely quiet book I made a few years back, is that below it, in my church bag, are five baggies of smashed raisins because I haven't cleaned out the bag for months.

When you enter my house, with its shining entryway, you don't see the three loads of laundry dumped on my bed. Or the dirty pots I stashed in the oven. And you will never see the interior of my minivan, not until I find the time to vacuum it out.

When you admire the hand-sewn pajamas I made for all the kids, we don't talk about the three nights I got no sleep to make those.

If you look on my blog, you will see pictures of homemade chicken noodle soup with homemade noodles. You won't see my confession to popping in a frozen pizza THREE times last week for dinner.

Or the night we ate Cheerios for dinner, dry, because we were out of milk. There is a zoom on my camera for a reason. There is a delete button for a reason.

I don't think we're all playing a part. We naturally want to put our best selves forward, so that is what other people see. They don't see what's going on behind the scenes. I like to think that good parenting is like a duck on the water. What you see is the gentle, almost effortless gliding, not the furious paddling that happens underneath.

I keep a mental list of about ten people I want to stalk by camera, from morning to night, to see how they do it all. Are they up at 4 a.m.? Can they survive on three hours of sleep? Do they have a housekeeper? Because I drop balls just as fast as I can grab them. My intentions are of pure gold, but they come out as tinkling brass, at best.

I started a blog last fall. I dragged my feet into it for many reasons. One of the main reasons I hesitated was I didn't want to be another contributor to the cyberspace guiltosphere out there. Especially where mothers are concerned, do we need one more reason to feel guilty?

Because from the looks of things, other families are happier, their houses are cleaner, their marriages are better, their clothes are more stylish and their craftiness is even more crafty. Their lives are perfectly lovely, while my kids are running around screaming in their diapers.

My worst fears were confirmed last week when I got an e-mail from a friend who asked, "How do you do it all? Your column, your blog, all the things you do with your children? You're amazing!"

I looked around at my house, at the six bins of winter clothes waiting to be transported to the garage, at the sewing projects stacked against the wall, at the state of the toothpaste crusted to the sink ... I let things go, a lot of things.

A spanking-clean house is not a high priority for me. I'm a big believer in mud and its importance in a child's life. The time I take to write is time away from scrubbing that bathroom sink. I would rather read with my kids than shop at the mall, so I am certainly not up-to-date on the latest styles. I've been listening to the same music for 20 years because I can't seem to keep up with the latest music scene. And I require a lot of sleep.

We all have priorities. For some, it is keeping a spotless house, and they are good at it. For others, it is writing, or exercising, or serving others. And yes, there are some who seem to do it all, the Benjamin Franklins of the world. I tell myself I don't have to be them. And also, Benjamin Franklin was not much of a family man. Even he let things go.

What we don't see, when we look at each other on Sunday, or on blogs, or in our shiny kitchens, is that we all have different talents and unique situations. I tell my kids all the time: Life is not a race. The only person you are competing against is yourself.

What we forget to see, when admiring others, is our own personal finish line.