Friday, January 28, 2011

Random Hodgepodge

So we're moving in.  Well, we've moved in, but now we have to get our stuff out of the garage and into the places where it belongs.  It's exhausting, both physically and mentally.  In fact, I think the mental toll is actually worse than the physical toll.

As soon as we said yes to that teeny tiny duplex, the housing office called and said "Surprise! We have a four bedroom!"  We soon found out that our new neighbors have the EXACT SAME STORY.  My theory? That housing office is playing some sort of game.  They're waiting to see if you're humble enough to take a crap house, and if you are, BAM! You get the good one.  Sounds stupid, I know, but come ON, they're doing something fishy.  I don't care, we got what we wanted, what they offered us in December right after the last break in.  So I still feel foolish for not moving THEN, but it's sort of no harm no foul.

So we moved.  In one day.  It was BRUTAL, and all I really did was lay on the couch the whole time.  People keep asking Nick if he got some guys from the boat to help out, and he has to admit that no, he didn't get any guys, he got Ericka.  I know he's just the tiniest bit embarrassed to admit that a woman moved our entire house, but whatever- she's super strong, looks like a living breathing Barbie doll, and she's nice.  She's like the total package.  Which is what I overheard him saying to his dad, but instead of being jealous (considering I'm a two hundred pound acne infested SLOB) I was just happy that she did it.  She carried all our bookcases and beds and tables and cabinets and pianos and chairs...maybe she could be my personal trainer when I finally want to lose weight? Because ya'll, seriously, she's so strong, but she doesn't look like a sheman.  She looks like a Barbie doll.  I don't get it.

Anyway.  It was obviously overwhelming and I've been crying at least once an hour since we started, but it's done and we're here and I'm wearing a sweatshirt right now because I have the AC set on 67.  I cooked last night on the electric stove and while it was awkward and weird and the heat didn't respond appropriately to my adjustments, it wasn't the end of the world, we all ate dinner and survived.  The yard and the playroom are still issues that we need to work out, but I think we'll make it, I really do.

And hey, if nothing else, this move has SERIOUSLY taken my mind off these last excruciating days of pregnancy!  I looked up this morning and thought "whoa, three days until I have a baby, that's weird!"  So then I went back into that weird pregnancy-induced-psychosis and that's where we are now.  Nick is back to trying to shelter the kids from their crazy mama and I'm holed up in my room trying not to murder anyone.

So here's some pics to keep you going.  What a cute baby right?

The innocent looking cabinet under the sink (void of all danger until we get a baby lock on it).

But wait! What's that little hand?

Surprise! Here's Warren! Shouting "take my picture!!!"

What a cheeseball.  And he did this for almost an hour.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Throwing in the Towel

Well, although I like to consider myself a strong, decisive, stand-by-my-word kinda gal, I also like to think I'm semi-rational and can admit when I've been defeated.  So, I've been defeated.  I'm throwing in the towel.  We were robbed.  Again.  For the third (actually, probably for the FOURTH) time.  Last Saturday night.  And the worst part was, I was laying in bed and I heard it happening, I heard them break the window to the shop.  Nick was sleepy and I was antsy (from this NEVERENDING pregnancy) so we blew it off, but what if I had insisted that he go out there and check things out? What if they'd beaten him up, or pushed him down and stepped on his face like in that movie American History X, they 'curbed' that guy?  They lifted the huge, heavy generator OUT THE WINDOW of the shop, then over the fence to our back-neighbor's yard, so Nick figures there were at least three, probably four, guys.  Big guys, strong guys, who must have planned this out at least a little.  Four big strong guys, watching MY HOUSE, planning out how they want to rip me off, while my precious boys sleep fifteen feet away, and my beloved Ava is only another eight feet further than them.

So I quit.  I'm throwing in the towel.  And naturally, right after the last break-in the first week of December (which I didn't blog about because I KNEW that everyone would tell me to move!!!) the housing office called and offered me my choice of the new four bedrooms they'd just completed.  They wanted me to have first dibs since I've been on the list so long.  And then they called again last week- LAST WEEK!!!- to offer me first choice on the NEWEST new ones that were open, and we said no, and asked to be removed from the list, because we love our house and don't want to move.  So Nick had to go down there today and beg for something, anything, anywhere safe where we can live.  And of course all those four bedrooms are gone like the wind, and the only thing she could offer us is a three bedroom duplex.  But what could we do? It was our own stupid fault for staying here after the first two breakins.  These robbers are probably sitting in their house, cooling off with not one but TWO of my generators, laughing at the stupid Americans who keep buying more crap for them to steal.

So we took it, we took a 1300 square foot three bedroom house for our family of five.  Scratch that, family of SIX.  We're basically a family of six now, sort of, right?  We're leaving our 3500 square foot house with the huge, fenced, totally shaded backyard, for at 1300 square foot duplex.  Sigh.  But it's just a year, we'll be moving to Hawaii by this time next year, if not a little sooner.  And we'll get first pick there too, I think, because of the screwed up way the Navy deals with you when you're changing home ports, as opposed to just PCSing.  So, we'll do it for a year, we can do it.  Right?  I mean, we get rid of the playroom.  That sucks.  We'll have to SERIOUSLY downsize on all the toys that we have, but that's good for kids, right?  And they HAVE to learn to clean up after themselves, because they'll basically be playing in the living/dining room, or (I shudder at the thought) their bedroom.

Speaking of bedroom, I haven't broached the subject with Nick yet because I KNOW he's going to say no, but does anyone else think that putting all three kids in one room is just insane?  I mean, they're so little, they barely take up any space at all!!! We've got those bunk beds, and they're full on full, we could have Ava up on top and Scott down on the bottom, and Warren in his crib.  That he now climbs out of, but that's a whole nother post.  And if we did that, we could get rid of Ava's bed (the queen we've had since Charleston) and that could be the playroom.  Hmmm....I'll see what I can do.  Work a little magic with the hubs.  If only I wasn't two hundred and two pounds....

Anyway.  Just wanted to sort through my thoughts on paper.  Always helps.  Speaking of help, have ya'll all read The Help yet?  You remember, it was all the rage a while back, EVERYONE was talking about how awesome it was?  Well, the reason they were ALL talking about it, is because it is THAT good.  I mean, for serious.  GO READ IT.  Have I ever steered you wrong, at least when it comes to books?  And read it before the movie comes out, because they've got Bryce Dallas Howard playing Hilly and I'm just not too confident about THAT casting choice.  And incidentally, I originally wanted to name Daisy Hilly.  Thank God I didn't push it, because after reading that book, I would have had to change it.

All right, I'm rambling.  Had my last OB appointment today!!!  Signed all my consents, baby should be out by eight thirty next Monday morning!!!  HOORAY!!!!  Now, for a change of plans, I do NOT want any more prayers for labor before Monday because I need to be here to move all our stuff into that teeny tiny duplex before Monday.  Sigh.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Baby Swing/Flashback Friday/Ode to Melissa H

The other day, I heard a commotion out where we set up the baby swing, so I waddled out to see what was up.  Was it a teeny tiny squishy scrunchy newborn, making herself at home in her baby swing? Of course not.  Sigh.  No, it was my twenty five pound two year old, making himself at home in his old swing.  Seriously.  So I grabbed the camera.  What else do you do in those situations?

Sorry for the nasty look on his face.  He's throwing a fit bc he managed to clip the strap around one of this thighs and he's stuck and his mama is too busy taking pictures to help him out.

And then I just had to compare to when he got into that swing for the very first time!!!

And THEN, since it IS Friday, I had to flash back to all three in that swing for the first time.

Man, I sure did think that Ava was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes on.  What the heck is wrong with new mothers?  Now, those boys...I could eat them with a spoon, even in retrospect.  But Ava? She was so funny looking! I think because she was three weeks early.  She wasn't fat enough, not filled in enough.  But she's so stunning now that it doesn't even matter.

And let's hear it for Melissa, giver of the Baby Shower Gift that Keeps Going and Going and Going...we are DEFINITELY getting your money's worth out of that swing Mel!

Tuesday, January 18, 2011


I am SO bored.  Like, bored OUT OF MY MIND.  What's left of it.  For those of you who don't quite get it, Nick not only got left behind when the boat went out (praise the Lord!) but he's on leave.  He's not like working out at squadron or picking up some slack on another boat- he's on vacation.  So he's here, at home, with us.  So he's doing EVERYTHING, all the housework, all the Mama duties, cooking, he even changed and washed all the sheets yesterday.  And he HATES doing laundry.  So I have NOTHING to do.  Not one single thing.  I have watched approximately nine hundred and seventy two episodes of Law and Order (which is roughly half of the total episodes out there), I have downloaded EVERY SINGLE freebie from the Coffee Shop Blog and played with them for hours on end, I've read the entire stack of books I bought for myself for Chirstmas...I'm just out of things to do.  Normally, I would be spending all my time in a movie theater, but I'm too uncomfortable to sit for an entire movie, I need to be on my side.  I'm pretty sure Daisy is transverse.  Actually, I doubt it, because I think I would look funny, but I just KNOW that that's not her butt or feet in my ribs, it's gotta be something else.  I think she's deformed, maybe she's got three legs or a tentacle or something.

In what I'm assuming is an effort to shelter his beloved children from the wrath of their crazy mother, and perhaps to keep them from thinking I've developed some sort of drug or alcohol problem, Nick has been keeping the kids outside as much as possible.  They had a blast on the bike...for about five minutes.  Then the dogs came out.  At least it was dogs and not chickens, I think my weird kids would have been more scared of the chickens.  Even though I've ONE HUNDRED PERCENT decided not to move on base, the allure of being able to walk or lets the kids ride bikes outside without fear of dogs or chickens attacking is very...alluring.  But it's almost instantly negated by the fact that I wouldn't be able to let them play unsupervised in out completely shaded backyard.  So, win some, lose some.  We should be able to get on base next year in HI without a problem, so we'll just wait till then.

This is them playing in the tent.  Ahh, Engelbrechts.  How I love ya'll.  Happy, for hours, doing somersaults in a tent.  Yes, that's correct.  Somersaults in a tent.  No toys, no tv, no video games, not even Baby Nate for company.  Just...somersaults.  In a tent.  For hours.

In the interest of full disclosure, Scott wasn't completely entertained by the somersaults and the tent.  Notice the fan?  That was enough for Scott.  A fan, with a plug.  Check, and check.  Done.

Phew.  That killed another hour.  Only another three hundred and eight to go!

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Family Photos

We had our family photos done right after Nick came back before Christmas.  There's this lady in base housing, and EVERYONE uses her.  But, you know me, I have to go against the grain.  She's sort of expensive and seriously, I just wanted to NOT use the person everyone else uses.  So I met this photographer at a craft fair, she had some really amazing prints on display and she was super fun and personable and I just really liked her.  And she was slightly cheaper than the other lady.  So I set it up and we had what I thought was an awesome photo session, out at one of the beaches on base.  And four weeks later (it took her four weeks to do the 'edits' on our shots) she finally had the disk ready.

And I'm so bummed!

Nick likes them and thinks they're cute and blah blah blah, but seriously?  For the money we paid, I expected better.  And for the four weeks of "editing" I expected the pictures to be, oh, I don't know, EDITED!!!  I specifically told her that I wanted the sore edited off of Warren's nose, and she said she would, yet it's STILL THERE!!!

So, here's a sample of what she did.  I mean, yeah, they're nice and I'm glad to finally be in some pictures (although I wish I wasn't quite so LARGE) but I feel ripped off.  And that's just not a fun feeling.  I feel like some of the shots of the kids aren't any better than shots I get of them.  And the editing!  I wanted them to be edited!!!

Hey Angela, remember when we used to laugh because Forest Gump stands on his porch with his hands at his back? JUST LIKE THIS???

I really like this one, except for my size.  And I want it to have some cool photoshop color editing going on.

Best shot of all three kids.  Ahh, Scott.

THIS is what I was after.  ONE picture out of over two hundred that I absolutely LOVE.

Wish she could have edited Scott's pants to not look wet.

This would be one of my favorites if Scott wasn't looking at the camera.  I actually like the ones where no one looks.

Anyone know how to edit my arm to be smaller?  I don't even need muscles, just thinned out a little...


Amazing, but again, looking for some cool photoshop color editing...and a smaller Jenn...

The sore.  Which I can actually take care of, but for what I paid, I shouldn't have to!

And here are the few that she DID edit. I was just expecting more. Do I sound like a brat? I'm sorry. I just expected...more. I mean, yeah, I like to spend money, but I usually make it a point to get QUALITY for my money. You know?

Kind of a weird shot, but doesn't it sort of capture Team Engelbrecht, in all its weirdo glory?

This is the editing I want.  Anyone know how she did this? If she had done this to about twenty other shots, I'd be singing her praises right now.

Same with this one.  It's not just 'converting to black and white' so what is it?
So that's my story for the day.  You'll notice that I haven't mentioned anything about the misery going on in my body right now.  I'm trying VERY hard to stop my nonstop crying about it.  I just want a healthy baby blah blah blah.  That's all I'm saying.  Computer Holly (is that offensive Holly? I think it's funny.  But I'm not exactly of sound mind and body right now.  I know that you actually are a real person, not some computer program, but still.  If it's offensive, I can stop.  Maybe.) says there's a full moon on the 19th and that I'll be put out of my misery then.  See how I'm not mentioning it directly?  Anyway, here's hoping.

Saturday, January 15, 2011


Well, I haven't blogged in a while for fear of it turning into a screaming rant.  Which it undoubtably will.  Nick got to stay, and of course I am grateful with every fiber of my soul, but I'm in such a state right now that if he continues to breathe in the living room while I'm in it, I might run him over with the car.  I'm irritable, irrational, annoyed, uncomfortable, huge, hungry, naseaus, sore, exhausted, unable to sleep- you name it, I feel it, probably once an hour.  I cannot stand to be touched by anyone other than Warren, even a slight brush to my arm.  I want to snuggle nonstop with Warren, and luckily, he seems to be in a really snuggly mood lately, so that works.  I can't bend over, which is fine because I don't feel like picking up anyway.  The floor is covered with cheerios and other crumbs and I honestly don't even care. At all.  I'm not even interested in tv anymore.  I just lay around watching the minutes tick by.  If you're wondering, we have 372 hours left.  That's 22320 minutes.  That's a LOT of minutes.

Ugh.  I had an appointment last week with Dr. No Personality, and I finally made it over two hundred.  All that hard work with Weight Watchers and I feel like it was all for nothing.  So I quit, and today I ate an entire 9x13 pan of brownies.  I don't exercise anymore because I'm so hot when I walk outside, and when I get on the EFX my giant belly and significantly larger-than-I'm-accustomed-to boobs bounce too much.  REALLY making me rethink my plans for a tummy tuck/boob job/lipo.  I also don't exercise because I'm a big lazy slob.  So I'll probably be two twenty when I deliver.

Incidently, I went to see The Fighter the other day and on more than one occasion they mentioned that Marky Mark weighs one hundred and sixty two pounds.  That's forty pounds LESS than yours truly.  I weigh forty pounds more than Marky Mark, with all his muscles and height and those abs....does that seem fair? Honestly? To outweigh Marky Mark?

Anyway, at my appointment, she scheduled my c section for the 31st, which I knew was a possibility, but I was still really upset about it.  She said they only do it on Mondays and Fridays.  I'm sorry, what?!?! I mean, I knew that this hospital wasn't exactly NMCP, but seriously, they only schedule sections twice a week? At Portsmouth, we delivered ten babies a DAY.  TEN A DAY! THEN she continued to remind me of how much I can't stand her by saying that they already had an induction scheduled for that day, so there's a chance I can get bumped to the NEXT FRIDAY.  As in Friday, Feb Fourth.  My ACTUAL due date.  Now, I realize that she's a great, unfailing Doctor of Medicine, and I'm just a lowly out of practice RN, but still, I sort of remember that the REASON you schedule someone's FOURTH C SECTION is to AVOID them going into labor, avoid them putting ANY stress on the weakened scar, avoid their uterus RUPTURING and killing both mom and baby.  So no, I don't think it's acceptable that you can't handle an induction and a section on the same day.  YOU USED TO WORK AT PORTSMOUTH!!!! YOU USED TO DELIVER TEN BABIES A DAY, WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!

I really cannot stand that woman.  I get to see my beloved Dr. Staben next time, and everyone better pray for EVERYONE else's sake that they don't change that appt and stick me with Dr. No Personality again.  Because I'll kill her.  I will literally end her life.  I don't care if she does my surgery, but I will REFUSE to see her as an outpatient again, you can mark my words.

So yeah, this is my life now.  I blow up and scream at people, I break down and cry a dozen times a day, it's not pretty.  I continue to SWEAR up and down that none of my other pregnancies were this hard, and that I did NOT go off the deep end during the last few weeks like this.  Meanwhile, Nick continues to SWEAR that this is the fourth time that I've said this is too hard and that I DID go off the deep end during the last few weeks with all the other kids.  I might be ending his life soon too.

Even the kids are scared of me.  They probably don't like not knowing if I'm about to yell or sob, so when I go in my room and lay down, they don't follow me.  They sort of tiptoe around.  It's like I'm one of those alcoholic mothers where the kids have to adjust their lives accordingly, know what I'm talking about?

My friend Brandi last night, from a very safe distance, said, very gently, that I've been a little moodier than she remembers from past pregnancies.  And she's been with me for all of them, so she knows.  SHE KNOWS.  Nick doesn't know what he's talking about.

So that's why I haven't been blogging.  I don't want to let my crazy lose on the world.

Want to know what I want more than anything else?  What I'm craving above all else?  I want to go to Target.  I want to spread my purse out in a red cart, get a fountain diet Coke and a popcorn from the snack bar, and walk around Target with no kids.  I want to look at all the stuff in the stationary department.  I want to fill my cart with chewable motrin, Kleenex toilet paper, baked Cheetos, everything that I took for granted before and now miss more than anything else.  I just want to walk around Target like I don't have a care in the world.  Is that too much to ask?  Seriously?  I've been pregnant for 36 of the last 72 months.  That's like half.  That's not fair.  I'm done.  I am done.  I hate this.

I cannot possibly last another sixteen days ya'll.  So, we obviously know prayer works, because as I'm typing this, the USS Houston is under water somewhere and my husband is in the bathroom giving those nasty rotten kids their bath.  So let's all get together and start praying.  I know it's selfish, I know Daisy needs to stay in as long as she can to grow and develop and get some fat on those nasty chicken legs, but I'm done.  I need to go into labor.  Preferably, just my water breaking, no serious contractions, because I'm a little nervous about rupture.  I read somewhere (google) that if your uterus DOES rupture, you only have like twenty minutes before the baby dies.  So that's not what I'm looking for.  Just my water breaking, and then a few noticeable contractions to get us all in gear.  I can't help it.  I just can't do this anymore.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Flashback Friday

Wow, long time since I did a flashback friday!  These are both from August 2007, when we went down to Stuart to go to Seaworld and see my Grandma Judy.  I have the pic of Ava framed in the hallway, and when I was walking by it I thought "Gee, I should post that, how cute is she!!!"  Then I got all confused because I was looking in our Disney files, but we didn't do Disney then.  I was big on having walkers before we ever tried the Most Magical Place on Earth.  So yeah, there's that story of my life, in case you were interested.

Ava, she must have been what, twenty two months, right? And so adorable I could just die.

And Scott would have been...five months?  Does that look like a five month old? April to August, that's five months, right? His head just looks so big...and my chins, wow.  I gained a lot with Scott.  Well, what I thought was a lot.  A lot compared to Ava.  Nothing compared to what I would gain with Warren and Daisy!  Past Jenn- slow down, don't eat that whopper!!!

Anyway.  As always, Ava always looks just like Ava to me, but Scott?  Honestly? This big ole headed baby looks NOTHING like my beloved son, to me.  Does he to you?
And Past Jenn, seriously? Get an Ergo. You're such a loser.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

New Years

So on New Year's Eve, when we were laying in bed (at nine thirty) I told Nick I couldn't think of any New Year's Resolutions.  How pathetic is that?  I mean, you're supposed to make all these plans to be a better person and then feel bad when you don't accomplish it, but to not even be able to THINK of anything to do? That just seems really bad.  So, I scoured the internet, seeing what all the bloggers I stalk are resolving to do.  And I still came up with ZIPPO!!!

Here's what other people are doing:

Spend less money. Well, I don't want to do that.  I like spending money, that's just dumb.  And seriously, what are we going to cut out, groceries or diapers? Really? So that's a dumb one, not gonna do that.

Lose weight. Gimme a break, I'm so sick of 'losing weight.' Gah.  And I'm hungry.  In fact, I'm starving.  And my beloved ob seems to be on leave until after I deliver, so screw it, I'm not even going to try to keep it under two hundred anymore! Why bother, if I can't show her how awesome I am? Blah.  So, not gonna sign up for that resolution either.

Be a better mother. Okay, fine, I should probably sign up for that.  Or at least put "yell at kids less."  But, I'm six years pregnant, my back is killing me, I'm hormonal and consistently in a TERRIBLY FOUL mood, so unless my kids are also going to resolve to stop being a bunch of loud, obnoxious idiots, I'm not taking on that one either.  So there.

Get more organized.  Another one I should be doing, but screw that too!  I have invested so much time and money and effort and blood and sweat and tears into 'getting organized' that I just can't do it anymore.  The things that I need to be organized are organized exactly the way I need them to be.  So that's good enough for me.

Drink less.  Even aside from being pregnant for the past six years, I don't drink.  So that's a moot point.  You know, like a cow's opinion.

Watch less TV. I already did that, since tv now sucks.  So I'm good there, the shows I do still watch are too good to give up.

Read more. Read more what? I already read everything I want to.  When Harry Potter 7 came out, I seriously thought that my reading life was over, that I'd literally NEVER find another good book to get lost in.  What an idiot!  It's that whole "I lose all sense of perspective when I'm in a tough situation" dealio.  Of course there are still good books out there.  The library here SUCKS ASS though, so maybe I can put start fundraising to get rid of the card catalogue system and ink stamps for due dates at the library on my list.  But that sounds like a little too much work for me, you know?

Learn a new skill.  Learn a new skill? Seriously? Like, what are we talking about here? Knitting? Basket weaving? Gimme a break, I'm not doing that.  Maybe I'll take become a better photographer or try more new recipes or learn the tricks to use my Mac (ROBIN!!! WHERE'S MY HELP!!!) Those are 'skills' right? So let's put those on.

Make new friends.  Ugh, that's so much work.  It just seems easier to nurture my mostly-in-my-head relationships with Computer Holly and Instant Message Angela.  You know? I can 'socialize' with them in my jammies while I watch Kathy Lee and Hoda, so there's that.

Sigh.  So really? What, I just don't want to be a better person, or what? I don't get it!  Why don't I have this drive for betterness that everyone else has?  I mean, really, the best I can come up with is 'stop screaming at kids' and 'learn how to spend even MORE time on the computer'? That just doesn't sound right.

Make my bed every day, that's one, right? Oooh, unload the dishwasher in the mornings, instead of bitching all day about how much it sucks to unload the dishwasher? Does that count? But Nick has been doing that every day (thanks baby!) so I guess I can't even put that.  My life is so boring.  I mean, really? Nothing? I have NOTHING to resolve to do? I just don't get it.  All ya'll normal people, what are you driven to do? Maybe I can just copy you...

Monday, January 3, 2011


Since I have recently put myself on modified bedrest (the boat is about to leave, and as of now Nick will be going out with them and then flying back a little later-about two days before my section will be scheduled for.  So I've stopped "working out" because I absolutely one hundred percent do NOT want to go into labor- however, if things change and the boat leaves him here, we'll be amping up the "work out" to get Daisy the hell out of my uterus- I'M DONE!!!) I have an extra hour every day.  Add to that the fact that Nick has taken over about ninety seven percent of the housework (that man just does NOT want to do laundry, or he'd get an even hundred!) and the fact that Warren is having some sort of ear infection slash allergy fit slash growth spurt which leaves him sleeping away the days and get get this result: I HAVE TONS OF TIME ON MY HANDS!

Wow.  Did you make it through that paragraph?  Take about a grametical nightmare.  But I'm pretty sure it's correct.  Just difficult to follow.  Anyway.  I've been using my free time to watch a lot of Law and Order and I've been trying to read, but any time I sit down to do either of those fun activities, I fall straight to sleep.  Like, within two minutes.  It's quite pathetic.  And I'm getting PLENTY of sleep at night because a) I go to bed around eight and b) Nick lets me sleep till seven so it's not like I need a nap. So I've been scrapbooking like a madwoman!  And I finally- FINALLY!!!- got Ava's Through The Years album done.  Finally!

Next up, her baby book.  Sigh.

Year One...
Year One Journal Side- how could I NOT add that picture though???
Year One Picture Side

Year Two...

Year Two Journal Side

Year Two Picture Side

Year Three...

Year Three Journal Side- you can't tell, but these papers are BEAUTIFUL!!! I might order more.

Year Three Picture Side

Year Four...
Year Four Journal Side (kind boring, but what else could I add?

Year Four Picture Side (guess who learned some new tricks on the cricut?)

Year Five...

Year Five Journal Side- this was a BLAST bc I had some leftover pieces of a super cute Easter kit I had laying around.  So cute!!!

Year Five Picture Side

So there you go!  Man, I feel like I accomplished so much! Isn't that stupid? I mean, other than me (and Meryl :) ) who cares about my scrapbooking life?  But I hope Meryl's right, and that one day these rotten kids look at these books and remember how much they were loved.  Because let's face it, I'll probably be in a looney bin by then.