Girlhood and womanhood. I have had my fair share of embarrassing and humiliating experiences. I guess it just comes with the territory. Like when I came home from school one day to find my mom had decided it was time for me to get a bra so she had gone and bought one- with my grandpa! Or when I started my period during science class. Or when I went in for my first girly doctor's appointment... The list goes on and on.
Today I had another one. One I've had before, yet it continues to embarrass me every time!
So I'm pregnant. I've had two kids already. This does all kinds of things to your body. Things that just aren't right. Today I had just finished shooting a wedding and was in my car when a sneezing attack hit right then and there. I'm talking 20 sneezes at least. I crossed my legs. I tried to keep it in- to no avail. I peed. Then I had to drive the whole way home before I could change.
Those of you who have never had this experience may find this funny (i.e. my sweet husband Matt who couldn't stop laughing). Not funny. Annoying. Nobody warned me about this part of "growing up". I wish I could say this was the first time. I wish even more I could say this will be the last. But no. So to all of you women all over the world trying your best to laugh, cough and sneeze without needing Depends, good luck!

For those of you not living in the Salt Lake Valley, we have had a fire raging up in the mountains by Draper all day. The air quality hasn't been too bad... until tonight. We were up at Bear Park for Alex's football practice when it drifted in. It smelled like we were all in the middle of a campfire. As we were leaving practice Isaac took a big breath and said "Mom, I love the smell out here, it smells like hotdogs!"

So, for those of you who are bothered by the smell outdoors, just pretend you're camping and take time to "smell the hotdogs".

I love and hate getting my hair cut.

When I venture through the doors of a hair salon, usually I stand at the brink of insanity. My hair has become so long that either it has to go or my life must end. Therefore, when I feel the locks falling to the ground around me, I want to cry out for joy that I am finally relieved of the nappy, woolly burden. So, in this way, I am overjoyed when I get my haircut.

There is something I hate, though, as well.

Small talk.

Why do all the stylists think that I need to have a long conversation? They don't really care about me or what I do or how many kids I have! Then I am obligated to ask them the same questions, and believe me, I don't care what their life-long goals are, either. A lady who sat down next to me, after two minutes of hair sheering, was getting into some pretty intimate life struggles with her hair person, and I am sure they just barely met! How awkward is that!? Is it something to do with the chair or dead brain cells being lopped off to make one think they can just open up and let all the feelings and emotions run rampant? Well, not this paying customer. I'll keep my feelings (whatever those are) to myself...

Enter Kate.

My stylist today was perfect. She invited me to her space and asked me to have a seat. She was older and I could tell had sheared many a head. She worked fast and furious and the only questions she asked me were "How would you like your hair?" and "How does it look?" She gave me a great cut minus all the uncomfortable, superficial conversation.

As I sat in the "therapists chair," I listened to the gaggle of women carrying on horribly annoying conversations around me and I was grateful that Kate was just there to cut my hair. So bottom line: Today, I found a new hair stylist. And she got a good tip, too!

Alex brought this drawing home from school and I love it! I want these babies to know that they have been Fred and George to their brothers since the beginning. (If you don't understand the name choices, read Harry Potter, you will). I told the boys the only way we are naming them Fred and George is IF they are both boys and IF they come out with red hair. So for now I'm going to assume I am safe.

Today Matt and I went in to the OB's for my monthly appointment. I like for him to see the babies growing inside me so he realizes I AM doing something on the couch. I am gestating.

Anyway, one bonus of having twins is an ultrasound at every visit so in we went to see our little angels. The first one was waving its arms and legs and had a heartbeat so we moved on to baby 2. From the angle we were at we could see baby 2's profile and the top of baby 1's head. Then Baby 2 started waving it's little arm and we could very clearly see a hand with all five fingers. It was darling! We were both so excited and enthralled watching it wave it's perfect little hand around. Then, I kid you not, Baby 2 reached up and punched its sibling in the head! I looked at the doctor and said "did my kid just hit the other one?" He confirmed that was what he saw.

So here we are. My babies are what, 4 inches long and like 1 ounce each and already bugging each other. I can hear it now "mom, he's hitting me", "mom, she's sitting on my head".

So sweet, so precious.

I know we were done with this topic, but my friend Jim sent me this link. Watch this video. She spends a lot of time thanking people at the beginning but then she starts saying some interesting things. Start watching around 8:00 minutes. What do you think?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H6Kxi8eeo3U

So why have I always wanted boys?

One Word:

Coaching.

Today, I ran my first, full tackle football practice. It was glorious.

Due to my crazy schedule, I am never the head coach, but I always try to be an assistant coach so I can do a lot of yelling without getting into trouble.

When Alex played his first two years of flag football, he was on a team where he was, seriously, the only white boy. The rest of the team was all a big, Polynesian family. They were awesome! The boys played well, worked hard, and won a lot of games. This year, Alex started tackle and had to go through a 'draft' system where the first week was running drills and the coaches could look at all the kids and then, at the end of the week, select teams by choosing one kid at a time.

Well, Coach David (I can't even begin to pronounce his last name) approached me, said he wanted Alex on the team but the only way that could FOR SURE happen is if I were an assistant coach. So, I signed on, Alex resides on the team of his choice with all his friends, and tonight, I ran practice. I had arrived as a dad. I don't know if I have ever been happier or had more fun.

At the conclusion of practice, Alex approached me with a smile on his face, which surprised me because we conditioned all day, and said, "I didn't like you at all today!" I hope that makes my first day of football coaching a success!