Maren Booth

Or, to be more precise, Maren Elise Booth Price.

Oh she'll probably take her maiden name as her middle just as many women before have done (plus, everyone needs to still have the name Booth, who doesn't love a Booth?). But it's the point that counts.

My Maren is married people. To a wonderful man, might I add--but there's a certain feeling of an ending for me, just a bit. I don't easily take change in stride, but I try (most days) to adjust. I only cried a little at their reception.....but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love them both! It's just getting weirder and weirder that everyone I know and love will be joining the ranks of family wards at some point or another. Myself included?  That's the weirdest yet.

But here's to Maren, and all of our crazy nights. Cabin nights, where a boob grab can make us laugh until we can't breathe. Cabin days, where we crack open crabs (because Jacob is too squeamish) and when we get stuck on the trampoline and Maren has an urgent need to use the restroom. Here's to senior pictures, scrapbooking, Psych, and camping trips with Harry Potter when Maren didn't realize what she was getting into. Here's to ice cream snuck into girl's camp, naps for Becca when she's cranky, and strange birthday parties where we were in a random tent in some girl's back yard singing to some game console or another. Here's to Pride and Prejudice, every single version we could find. Here's to being each other's happy place, goat jokes, and a love that goes beyond being "cousins." Our nights sleeping next to each other may be gone, but oh, it will NEVER be over.

Maren & Jacob--I wish you every kind of happiness I possess. I wish you the happiness of Jane and Bingley, because lets be honest - that's exactly what I see when I see the two of you. I can't wait for all of our new adventures. Let's make them the best ever.

Lily Lou

L: Knock knock! Me: Who's there? L: Lily Fletcher! Me: Lily Fletcher who? L: Just Lily Fletcher!!
L: Knock knock! Me: Who's there? L: Daddy Fletcher! Me: Daddy Fletcher who? L: Daddy Daniel Fletcher!!
L: Knock knock! Me: Who's there? L: Mommy Fletcher! Me: Mommy Fletcher who? L: Mommy Jenna Fletcher!!
L: Knock knock! Me: Who's there? L: Becca! Me: Becca who? L: Auntie Becca Fletcher!! (Although she was referring to me, she really does have an Auntie Becca Fletcher.)

We watch a show named "Eureka." Whenever we want to turn it on we ask Lily if we should, and she says "YA! MY-reka!" "Okay Lou, we'll watch Your-reka." Then when we turned if off one day and told her there was no more My-reka, she says "Now watch YOUR-reka?"

The rocks in the backyard alternate between just plain collection rocks to dinosaur eggs on the verge of hatching.

When I first got here I didn't know the right way to phrase questions to a two year old. We were playing with the rocks in the backyard and there was a sparkly whitish one, so I asked her "Lily, what does this rock look like?" intending to get a description of it's physical characteristics. Instead, she looks at me, and with an air of one condescending to answer says, "A rock."

A popular incentive for Lily is going to the toy store. She says "foy" instead of "toy" but says the 't' in "store" just fine. We were bribing with the toy store once upon a time and she kept saying some particular type of toy store. Neither Jenna or I could understand the word she was saying before "foy" and we told her so. After repeating it several times, slowing it down for the obviously slow people she was dealing with, she gives a sigh of exasperation and looks around the room. Rory has a bouncer with fish toys on the top of it, so Lily goes over, points to the fish on the top and says "WHAT IS THIS?" It was written on her face that she obviously thought we were real big idiots.

Lily and I watch Animal Planet together. There was one show where they rescued baby raccoons from the roof of a house and she's fixated on that. She says she will now grow up to fix baby raccoons, and I couldn't be happier. My little mini me! She also watches all the grisly Animal Cops shows and says she will fix all the doggies (with the help of the dog's mother). I love this kid. When Papaya shredded my hands and arms, she was right there patching me up with Neosporin and Band-Aids.

Rory was acting up (as usual) and Jenna suggested we should throw her away. Lily hears this and says "SHE NOT TRASH!"

This kids a keeper.

Sleepless in Seattle

Mothering.


I get it now. I really do. You don't get it until you do it, but it's the hardest job anyone could have. I'm pretty sure. It seems so commonplace to those of us who don't have children.

People raise kids all the time, right?

 Easy-peasy, right?

Wrong.

It's a mental game...with yourself. It's not even the fact that it's physically draining that's hard. Even though that quadruples (times five and a half million) the effort you have to put in to win the mental fight. It's the struggle to remain optimistic while your 5 month old just won't stop screaming. When she wakes up 3 or 4 times in the night, even though she really should be sleeping longer. When she won't sleep anywhere but in your arms, while you're sitting up. When your two & a half year old won't listen to a single thing you say. When she's crying hysterically over you not turning the car light on and off (which I admit, was my bad...what harm would that have done?) Etc. You get the point.

Despite the fact that it takes about five hundred times as long to get out the door and go somewhere with children than when you're on your own, the couple of nights I've had Rory and got less sleep than I'd ever had in my life (and I'm in college!), the car drives of misery when she won't stop crying (read: screaming her guts out), and arguing with a hysterical almost three year old about the dumbest things, I'd never have this summer a different way. I'm the luckiest aunt in the world.

I'm so lucky I want to publicly, brand-new-mom-ish-ly gush about my nieces. Actually I do that anyway, just walking down the street when people tell us how adorable they are. I have the absolutely most hilarious two year old of a niece ever. She can make me burst out laughing harder than I have ever laughed. Her obvious love of life is so infectious sometimes it's annoying. (But not really). She adores animals of all kinds, and she's convinced she will grow up to fix baby raccoons and baby ostriches (score for Auntie Becca!). She says the darndest things, and her misuse of grammar is hilarious and adorable (even though I try to correct it anyway, much to Jenna's chagrin). Making her laugh is basically my goal, every single day. It's not hard to do, which is the best part. She screams (which scares the baby) but I almost enjoy it...they're screams of pure joy, most of the time. And Rory. I can't imagine a baby cuter than her. When she's not screaming or sleeping, she's full of smiles. She wants to walk like big sister so much, it makes her cry. Which, admittedly, is not a rare occurrence, but the smiles and giggles make me want to die of joy. When I kiss her cheeks she giggles like only a baby can, and her curly mop of hair makes every other mother die of envy. She just absolutely wants to smile at you whenever she sees you (unless she doesn't have her way in one aspect or another, of course.) Also, how in the world can baby heads smell so good?

Basically, leaving my babies (and yes, Jenna, you did all the work but I'm still claiming them as mine) in less than three weeks will be the most heart-wrenching thing I've had to do in awhile (read: ever). Tears will be shed, I'm sure. Mine, Lily's, Jenna's, or Rory's I'm not quite so sure yet, but I'm sure we can get at least 2 out of 4.

So here's to mothers. Holy crap, I don't know how you did it, but congratulations for not killing us all. And thank you, for your obvious, selfless, generous love we probably don't deserve, and won't deserve for a long while yet.