OOPS.....

So....it's been a few minutes since I've blogged. Oops. I think I got sidetracked. I really thought about giving up all together for a minute, but realized my last post to be forever imprinted on everyone's memory would be about pooping. Is that what I want to be remembered for??

Maybe, a little. But first remember for my amazing, smelly, good-looking family as pictured above. Our little dude is getting CUTER. How is it that he came from... me?! No one will ever know.

We've also been a very, very busy Heaton household. Here a few things you missed:

One, we moved. We live in a HOUSE! I LOVE IT!! I can go number two in three different toilets!

Two, our first vacation since BEFORE Carter. Jake and I went to Vegas, baby, with our friends where we were the classiest people to ever meet Dick Butkus. True story. I also sinned and won 100 sin-ful dollars off of one dollar in a slot machine. I bought pancakes.

THREE - Back to school. I'm in both UVU and USU for all the pre-requisites for USU's school counseling masters program. Ahh, scary. Jake made me do it.

FOUR - Dude is getting so funny. He is talking now and his favorites words consist of 'poop', 'bum', 'turtle' and 'spandex.' WHERE did he get these from?!!

FIVE - Jake now drives a Harley. Saddest story in the world. I plan to make him repent of his evil Harley ways. I would prefer he drive a segway.

SIX - I turned... gulp... twenty-nine. It will be the last birthday I will EVER have. Twenty-nine forever, baby.

SEVEN - Nothing else, but this is my favorite number.

So if anyone is even left that happens to come across this blog, I promise to get back into blogging and talk less about poop. But I probably just lied about the poop part.

Pooping Sounds

Okay, you crazy three ladies that still read my blog...or just stare at it because you've lost your minds AND your pants.... we've been busy here at the Heatons.

We had an awesome Christmas with a sometimes-Satanic-little child. He went a little crazy.

Carter has gotten even more crazy with all his toddler shennanigans. When he isn't busy drinking toilet water (yep, still obsessed with that thing), throwing balls at our heads, unlocking the front door and running half naked outside (or is that Jake?), screaming 'HAYY DUDE!!!', he is pooping. He has started his own cult... of pooping sounds. Geez, people, what is wrong with boys and all this number two business? I swear the kid goes 18 times per day.

He has been eating us out of house and home and we go through several thousand diapers per week. Good thing Jake got a new job after his company closed in November. We can afford more diapers....and tranquilizer... I mean... vegetables.
Oh yeah. And before all that happened, Carter turned one. He even had an awesome Pirate Party that I never posted about. Must be all that tranquilizer.... I mean...vegetables.

Things are luckily looking a LOT better this rocking 2011. Jake starts an awesome new position tomorrow, I'm back in school with my Justin Bieber notebook, I love my job, I love my boys, I love my friends, I love deodorant...and I've got a poopy diaper to change.

Forts Rule

It's been a hard, hard month. So, in the interest of all things happy, I am here to post something astounding, thought-provoking, and inspirational.

Forts rule. Boys drool.

Happy December Everybody!

Face Leprosy

So I know I’m way behind on pictures. Couldn’t help but post this one to keep you all guessing, and peeing in your pants for those yet to come.Hope you all had a Happy Halloween. The ninja Chuck Norris and his little monkey sure did have a good one.

I wore this to work. No one could figure out what I was. (Chuck Norris is too awesome for human vision). A guy walked in and asked our secretary, “What is wrong with that ladies’ face?”

Yeah.

Bowl head.

There are many, many things that I am bad at.
Blogging, for instance.
My list of crappiness also includes walking and chewing gum at the same time, mothering (Worst Mother of BRHS Class 0f 2000 – Holla!), cutting straight with scissors, having a face that doesn't make babies cry, being nice to homeless people….. I could go on for hours.
But, there are a few things I deserve a shout out for, for being the Captain of Awesomeness.
One thing: my thrifty skills. I have taught bubba dude to play with garbage in order to save money. His favorite toy? The one he can’t go to bed without? His bowl I stole from someone in college. Pretty much 90% of the day, it’s on his head. It kind of acts as a helmet which is much needed because I also am bad at walking without falling over, which he has inherited.

The other thing I am good at? Well, pretty much nothing else. BUT, I am posting an awesome picture of a friend get-together, because THEY are all awesome. I know I am just there for people to kick for entertainment, but still. Love you guys. A Special shout out to my BFF Oprah for making an appearance.
Also, I am never eating sushi again. Or Cheez Whiz.

Old ladies rule

This cutest face says it all. 'Some days everything tastes like a turd, but I'm so sexy!!'
I know I feel like I've been thrown into the blender of life, with a zucchini. Nasty zucchini. Blech. UNTIL it is made into bread. And then it's good. (See, that's a deep metaphor. Read it again and then hang it on your fridge).
We've had chaos surround us in the Heaton household as of late, although I'm sure it's muss less chaotic then the trials the rest of you deal with.
We've had a lousy, busy, insane week and this morning I just decided to call in sick.... because I AM sick. No, really. The chaos made me go all sicky. So as I'm laying here in my 'sick pants' (do the rest of you have those or is it another weird 'Ev' thing?) I am thinking I am not slowing down enough amidst the chaos to truly enjoy so many of the blessings of this life.
Especially the baby awesome. Old ladies are always so right, that he grows too fast to even know. He is 10 months...almost 11. He is freaking WALKING (well, like 5 steps and then freaks out and canon-ball dives). He's talking (he says 'yaaaay). And he's TEETHING. Which is the crap thing of it ALL. Perfect little sleeper? Not any more.
Earlier this day, while still in my sick pants, I was watching baby tv shows. Where is my BAAAA-BY? WAAHH!!!
So here's to trying to enjoy the little things, the teething sleepless nights, and to celebrating his growth. Soon, he might be old enough to be enlisted as my slave, so at least THAT is something that is good about growing up.

No really, today I'm overly grateful for this little miracle of mine. And for my life. I truly haven't felt this happy, albeit a little stressed, before. I love my boy, I love having my BFF sisters and nephew so close to torture every day, I love my little cheese of a husband, I love my job, I love my baby-sitter, and I love being able to see my toes again. So sick pants, or no pants, I'm having a good day.

Individually wrapped cheese

So my BFF Oprah convinced me not to quit blogging, along with all you sweet friends who made comments. She really likes my stories about poop. Oh, that Oprah.

It's 11:15 on a Sunday night and I can't sleep. I have to admit, I'm a little 'high' and I should be chaperoned. I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but I do NOT have a high tolerance for pain killers. And not the illegal kind, even. A couple Tylenol and Ibuprofen are good enough to have me table dancing. We don't even want to talk about my days in the hospital with morphene or the days of the prescription Oxy where I mooned half the neighborhood.
So I have another migraine and popped a few Tylenol and now everything is looking like rainbows and sparkles.
And did you KNOW that they sell individually wrapped packages of cheddar cheese, like little gifts from angels? THEY ARE THE BEST THING EVER!!!! I've eaten four!!!

Last time this pain-killer legal high happened was a few weeks ago. I was on my way to choir with Jack-Jack and Ash and I let them know about the days when I wore pudding balloons.

So I will tell the world now of my secret. We just had our 10 year reunion (oh my freaking gosh!!) which has got me all sorts of reminiscing. 10 years ago I was still pretty insane but my parents didn't let me out of my cage much so not many people knew. Plus I cared about what everybody thought. Always. Now.... whether it's the drugs or the head injury or schizophrenia, I don't. I don't even have a filter and it gets me in trouble.
What was I talking about?
Oh yeah. Pudding balloons. I was taught by an older and much wiser friend that pudding is as good as silicone. So I learned to fill balloons with pudding (vanilla is the best, least smelly option) and flatten them out and add them to my brasiere. And I did it. ALL THE TIME.
They exploded a few times, but they made for a tasty snack in the midst of embarrassment.

And also, I wore two bras on my wedding day.

Crap, my blog isn't private yet. But those are my stories and I couldn't sleep until I shared them. Oh, seriously, this cheese is the best thing EVER.