Our 5th Halliversary!

Happy Halloween/Happy Birthday to Life as a Lindquist! Five years ago, we began our blogging adventure on Halloween night as we passed out candy in our Lego costumes (wow, do we sound like a good time or what?!). At the time, I was with "mini lego" but no one knew it yet.

2009

The next year we celebrated Halloween as a family of three/bull, cow and a calf.

Followed by Little Bo Peep and a Child of the 80s in 2011.

And then the year I was disappointed my daughter wanted to be a commercialized Disney princess, when I wanted her to be McKayla Maroney.

(Let's not forget my last minute attempt at MJ that year.)

Once again I was "with lego" during this Halloween and no one knew yet.

That meant there was an additional trick or treater in 2013.

(Howie went as Toto, I was the Yellow Brick Raod and Rob was the Wizard of Oz, but we never made it to a photo.)

So this year we had to rectify that by making sure we got a family photo, no matter how crappy it turned out. I'm a witch (watch your comments on that), Rob is attempting to make a joke about Doug McDermott with his costume and Howie is Olaf as Santa.

And the stars of the show: Anna and Elsa.

Two years ago, it bothered me that Faith wanted to be a Disney princess and not something more original. This year she talked about being a spy and I was so excited to help her concoct the most badass spy costume ever. Then she decided to be Elsa and I thought to myself, "ya know, whatever makes her happy makes me happy." This past 5 years of blogging have flown by. Kids grow up so fast. Faith has dressed up for 5 Halloweens already. I'll support her if she wants to be the most common character out there or if she wants to be the most random thing of all time (remember her "pie phase" from last year). I can still vividly remember hitting submit on our first Lego post in 2009. Five years later, here we are. Life as a Lindquist is pretty good.

Chocoholic

This girl's first tooth was a sweet tooth.

Even today, chocolate is her go-to sugary snack.

I swear we've washed her face in between these photos.

But I had no idea how deep her love for the divinity ran. Unfortunately, now I do. 

As were walking out of preschool the other day, I stopped at the table in the foyer to sign my four-year-old out for the day. 

Now they say things can happen in the blink of an eye, the flip of a switch, a single heartbeat, a moment's notice, a snap of the fingers…I think you get the point.

True. Dat. 

Just as I finished signing my name, dotting the I in Lindquist, I reached for Faith's hand and it was gone. Instead, it was reaching, slow-motion style, down to the ground. On the ground was a blob. A brown blob. An indiscernible brown blob. Before my brain could form words for my mouth to speak, the brown blob went from her pinched fingers to her mouth. TO HER MOUTH!

Suddenly my voice starting working. I screamed. Shrilly. Words were coming out in spurts. GAH! WHATWASTHAT? FAITHGROSS! OHMYGOD! SPITITOUT! LICKITOFF!

My beautifully little four-year-old caught the last part loud and clear and promptly licked the rug. The rug on which people wipe their shoes. Their nasty, sticky, stanky shoes.

More screaming. More yelling. Mainly by me, but not at my girl.

Then, there it was. A whiff of pure milk chocolate. A heavenly scent. A glorious smell.  Thank God for chocolate. 

We quickly rushed inside and Count Chocula washed her mouth out while I apologized about the screams coming from the foyer. As my firstborn finished drying her hands, she looked up at me and announced, "I feel like I could cry."

The only thing worse than making my daughter feel terrible for eating a glob of melted chocolate off the ground was if it had not been chocolate. But it was. Thus I felt HORRIBLE!

On the drive home, we had a long talk about not eating anything off the floor and about what types of things we put in our mouths. She smiled. She nodded. I thought for sure she got the message.

Key word: thought.

That very night, I walked into the bathroom. Her toothbrush was on the counter. Instead of pink bubblegum toothpaste, there was a line of hand soap on the bristles.

Her defense: "I want to do it how I want to do it!"

My advice: stick with floor chocolate.

This is 32.

Dear 22,
This is 32. And I'm fabulous.
See you sooner than you think.
Love,
Me
p.s. You know that Rob guy in Journalism class? Turns out he's a pretty great husband and father.
p.p.s. Wear more sunscreen.

If only our future selves could give our present selves a heads up on what life is like in the future...

I never could have imagined at 22 what life would be like when the clock struck 9:06 p.m. on September 19, 2014 as I turned 32. That I'd have two beautiful daughters, as different from each other as can be, who are my world. That my relationships with my parents would be stronger and more cherished than ever. (Or that two of them would be LIVING with ME!) That my husband and I would treasure our nights in more than our nights out. That my career would fulfill me the way it does. That the best friends I had at 22 would be the exact same 10 years later. That I'd still be running. That I'd actually own a dog and love him like a family member. That I'd feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

Turning an even number on birthdays has always been harder for me ...26, 28, (30 was surprising fine), but now, 32. Forgive me if your digits are higher, but 32 sounds soooo old!

Then, over the course of the weekend, I realized how much I like being 32.

I like that I have a work family that takes food as seriously as I do.

I like that my dad and I can have an adult chat about the past, present and future over lunch at our fav place.

I like that my mom still takes my birthday off of work, and wants to spend it treating me to a pedi and some shopping. And that now I'm the one embarrassing her by taking selfies everywhere we go.

I like that my husband knows my love of all things Mexican and makes sure I get some chips and salsa on my special day.

And that double fisting has taking on a whole new meaning.

I like that even though it's my birthday, I'd rather be doing something my children love.

(OK, Gabby did not love it so much.)

I like that my husband will still go to a romantic comedy with me even though he'd rather see anything but. (I love me some Jason Bateman!)

I like that my best friend knows I would appreciate her buying me a $.99 card vs. a $4.99 Hallmark ripoff.

I like that spending time with my family and friends is the best present of all.

You always hear people say things like, "Age is just a number." "You're only as old as you feel." "Don't regret growing older. It's a privilege denied to many."

The older I get the more I believe these things, but the more I have to remind myself of them. Amidst all the positivity above, I still get sad about my gray hairs, the mid-section that just doesn't and won't probably ever look like it did 10 years ago, and having to deal with heavy adult things. But in all honesty, I feel good. If I don't think of myself as "an age" I'm quite pleased with my life as I know it. In fact, I'd love to pause and live this year over and over again. But life goes on. So I will continually thank God for today. Because today I'm 32. And 32 ain't so bad.