Getting in the Spirit

For the past day or so, I've been listening to as audio book on my MP3 player.  I had heard it was a good book...in fact, several friends rated it well on a book-sharing website.  While I listened, I was putting together a scripture-based Nativity advent calendar for my Young Women.  And when the feelings that should be invoked by celebrating Jesus Christ's birth were far overshadowed by the sadness and despair of the story I was listening to, I decided that there is enough garbage in the world.  I turned off my player and left it alone for the rest of the day.  This morning, when I had a chance to plug it in again, I deleted the book.  Without finishing it.

You see, I've been teaching my beautiful Young Women for about two months now.  Last week, our lesson was on creating an uplifting environment.  I urged (strongly) my girls to eliminate the things in their lives that weren't uplifting--things that didn't allow the Holy Ghost into their lives.  As I looked at the lesson for this Sunday, I realized that I will be teaching all three Young Women's classes about "Return[ing] to Virtue."  Here I am, merely a few days later, listening to a book that didn't make me feel light or virtuous, but made me feel like the heavy, dark rainclouds that so often descend on the city where I live.  Hippocrite.  That's what I was.  I couldn't teach these things if I myself couldn't stand up for my own standards in such a small way.  And that's why I turned it off.  I don't regret it one bit.  I feel light again.  Bring on the housework!  I need an excuse to listen to the hours and hours of Christmas stories I downloaded to my player this morning.

Music to My Ears

This morning, I attended my first ever parent-teacher conference.  I consider this as much of a rite of passage for me as Kallie's first day of school was for her.  I can finally consider myself a real mom.  (Does anyone else have vague memories of Pinnochio associated with that phrase?)  I know that someday, it may become a mundane annoyance.  But I was actually looking forward to this event.

To preface this, I will say that I know Kallie is a good kid.  And while I think that she is incredibly smart and darling, I am her mother.  Every mother--especially one charting untested waters in parenthood--thinks her child is the smartest, most brilliant child on the face of the planet.  However, knowing this maternal tendency, I have come to realize that my opinion of my child may not be viewed as valid in some circles. 

In the past 2(ish) months since Kallie has started school, I have had my concerns about her social and educational development.  As talkative and expressive as my child is, she is somehow nearly mute on the details of her educational experience so far.  So, I have been left wondering what kind of person she is at school, among her friends, while I'm not there.

I'm happy to report that, according to her teacher, Mrs. R, Kallie is "every teacher's dream."  She is excelling well beyond grade level in every subject.  Mrs. R has been impressed with Kallie's very well-adjusted social skills, as well as Kallie's ability to show initiative, responsibility, and always being on task.  (Whose kid is she?  I always got in trouble for talking too much!)  I could not have asked for a better initiatory parent-teacher conference. 

Oh, as for me?  My real mom world will start unfolding a little more in January.  That's when I get to start helping in the classroom!

Letters

A friend recently did this on her blog--and I thought I'd follow suit.


Dear Alarm Clock,
We have been frienemies for so long that I hope you'll understand why I am making this request.  As things stand, you scream until I hit you--and then you pipe down for a while.  Once I've hit you three times, you finally give up and let me sleep.  And while it seems you're being kind, you're not helping as much as you might think you are.  I would prefer that you not give up, no matter how many times I hit you.  Could you make that possible?

Thanks,
Better-rested, but running-late-in-the-morning mom
--------------------------------
Dear Sparkpeople.com,
I know you're interesting in rekindling our relationship.  The sprinklings of e-mails you have sent in the past few months have piqued my interest more than once.  I just can't make any long-term commitments at this point in time.  I hope you will understand.

Someday yours,
My Pre-Pregnancy Body
--------------------------------
Dear Self-Control,
I miss you.  I certainly feel better when you come around, but that doesn't seem enough motivation these days to do anything about it.  Your return will make it possible for me to enjoy Sparkpeople.com's company again.  Please come back soon!

Sincerely,
Desperately Seeking
--------------------------------
Dear Seattle Weather,
I have really enjoyed the warm(ish) sunny afternoons we've had lately.  Although it's not much of a change from summer, it certainly feels like fall around here.  One thing--could you please stop faking me out in the mornings?  Or at least decide what you're going to do before I dress myself and my children?  Your assistance would be much appreciated.

Thank you,
Consistently Over (or Under) Dressed
--------------------------------
Dear MP3 Player,

Thank you for making my work so much more enjoyable lately!  With your assistance, I am able to eliminate mountains of laundry, piles of dishes, and bacteria-infested toilets.  The stories you provide keep my mind off the drudgery that has a tendency to creep into these (and other) tasks.  Oh, and my family thanks you, too!  You're a lifesaver!

Many thanks,
Audio Bookworm

In the mean time...

I have so much I want to post about...our trip to Utah, my sister's wedding, Kallie's first day of school, the projects I've been working on, painting (and repainting) our house...but I have (obviously) been busy.  By the time I get a few minutes, my brain doesn't want to focus on writing.  It wants to relax, too.  So, instead of blogging, I've been reading.  Lots of reading.  And one of my favorite reads lately is from Julie B. Beck--a talk she gave at BYU's Women's Conference.  I will admit, I couldn't just let my brain relax with that one.  In fact, I wanted to turn myself into a sponge and just soak it all in--make it part of me.  So, while you're waiting for my riveting blog posts, feel free to delve into Sis. Beck's talk!  (And, let me know if you master the whole "turning yourself into a sponge" thing.)

The Stench -or- Why We May Never EVER Have a Dog

Ryan woke up a few Saturdays ago and said, "We're ripping out the living room carpet today."  I thought we were going to do yard work.  But work is work.  And I wasn't getting out of it either way.  That's the problem with being the right-hand woman. 

Why, you might ask, did we decide to rip out 168 square feet of carpet on a random Saturday morning whim?  Well, it all had to do with what I called "Scratch n' Sniff" carpet.  When we moved into the house, we put couches in the living room.  No problem.  When I slid the couches into a more acceptable furniture arrangement about a week later, a horrible odor wafted up from the carpet.  It wasn't something we had ever smelled before--not when we were looking to buy the house, not when we had the carpets cleaned, not when we moved in and simply placed furniture in the room.  It was only after the carpet got a deep massage from a couple of couches that it gave up it's scent.  We discussed new carpet, but the carpet looked fine.  And there are 1000 other projects needing our money and attention.  And, after all, The Stench started to dissipate after a few days.  However, we started avoiding our living room at all costs.  We didn't want to accidentally release more of The Stench.

A few weeks later, Ryan commented that he hoped the couches weren't just absorbing horrible odor.  We're hoping to sell the couches (someday soon) and figured no one wanted to take The Stench home along with the couches.  So, once again, I moved the couches.  Slid them across the entry into the dining room.  The Scratch n' Sniff carpet once more did its thing.  And this time, The Stench didn't dissipate.  As embarrassed as we were to have people come to our home while The Stench was on the run, those who did come said they couldn't smell a thing.  And, even if they could, it was very faint.  We were convinced that they were just being polite.  And so, on that Saturday morning, Ryan decided enough was enough. 

When we walked into the living room, I said, "You know, on all those HGTV shows I watch, they always cut the carpet into strips and pull it out one strip at a time."  Nope.  The plan was to rip it out in ONE BIG PIECE.  So, I went along with it.  We tugged and rolled.  And I almost lost my breakfast.  If you think The Stench was bad after moving furniture across the top, just think how much worse it would be when you actually opened the source of The Stench.  On the far wall of the room, there was a HUGE stained area.  The carpet tacks along several feet of the wall were rusted.  Another small corner on the other side had the same issue.  I couldn't understand why we didn't smell this before and how the carpet looked so normal from the top.

It took us a good 10 or 15 minutes to lug, shimmy, and shove the carpet out the front door.  (We later learned it was 280 lbs. of carpet, although it seemed at least twice that as we manuvered the thing.)  Once it was on the lawn, we went back in and ripped up the pad, tack strips, and staples.  We didn't want to leave even ONE speck of something The Stench was clinging to.

The Stench was so bad that when we went back out to take care of the carpet, we noticed a random cat wandering over to our lawn.  It could smell the carpet all the way from who-knows-where and came to investigate.  We had talked about trying to cut up the carpet and put it into our trash bin.  But, everyone knows that 168 sq. ft. of carpet doesn't all fit into a trash bin.  That meant we would have had to store The Stench somewhere in the mean time.  And, I wasn't thrilled about attracting the rest of the animals in the neighborhood.  Instead, we cut the carpet into strips, (which is a story in itself), rolled it all up, and packed it into the back of our car.  (At this point, I told Ryan that next time we ripped out carpet, we were cutting it into strips BEFORE taking it out.  And he said, "Next time?")

We had some other errands to run, so we packed the kids into the car, rolled down all the windows and set out for the "transfer station"--which is just a nice way of saying The Dump.  It was at this point we started laughing.  Air whipping around our hair, kids complaining they were cold, and we couldn't roll up the windows because of The Stench.  But it was no longer in our house!

We're still working on fully eradicating The Stench.  It's greatly reduced now and the smell is generally contained to the living room.  We've put pet odor remover on the plywood floorboards, (the stain went all the way into the wood), and we're painting it with Kilz this weekend.  The good news is that while I'm in Utah, Ryan is going to paint the entire living room--as long as I can decide on a color by the time I leave.  A few weeks later, we will have carpet.  And, I'll bet we spend a lot more time in that room.

Window Worm

A couple of weeks ago, the Young Women in our ward held a fund raiser.  For a certain amount, a group of them would come to your home and complete 2 tasks in a 20 minute time frame.  Knowing that I don't have time to do everything and wanting to help their fundraising efforts, I signed them on to wash my windows.

In the few months we've lived here, we have determined (thanks to neighbors) that our home was unoccupied for about 16 months by the time we finally moved in.  And before that, it was a rental for a while.  Needless to say, my windows certainly needed the bath.  I won't describe in detail the state of the window tracks/sills, but suffice it to say they were living entities of their own--possibly toxic (at least in my mind).  Not wanting to allow the Young Women anywhere near the science experiments growing beneath our windows, I decided to tackle the project before the girls came.

I started upstairs--and really, it wasn't too bad.  I thought it was going to be a lot worse!  And when I headed downstairs, I realized how much worse it was going to get.  When I went to clean the family room windows, I found this curled up in the corner of the window:

I was convinced it somehow wormed its way onto the house from the overgrown plants that used to be right outside the window.  (We removed them over a month ago.)  I immediately texted Ryan and said, "There's a huge WORM THING in the corner of the window!" and then I discreetly asked what he planned to accomplish when he got home that night.  His reply? "Lots on the agenda.  You can do it!"  Right.  I cleaned all of the other window tracks downstairs before returning to this particular family room window.  The creature was clearly dead, but I was well-armed with rubber gloves, an old mechanical pencil (for removal), and a Ziploc bag (to prove to Ryan how GROSS it was--and what I trooper I was for removing it myself).

I psyched myself up and started the removal process.  I wondered if it would just crumble when the pencil touched it.  But, when I actually pushed the pencil between the folds of worm, it was much softer than I thought it would be.  I almost freaked out and quit the whole process.  But ever so slowly, with my eyes closed, I lifted the worm up and out of the corner.

It was about then I saw this worm for what it really was: a brown hairband.  All of that worry for nothing.  I started laughing and texted my husband, "Turns out the worm was a hairband! Still laughing."  I popped it into the Ziploc, (still wearing gloves--you never know where that thing has been!), for proof--along with the pics--that it really DID look like a worm!

Fabulous Fourth

It all began on Friday afternoon...after joining the masses in holiday weekend travel, we finally arrived at the Cottage just before dinner time on Friday.  (Good thing, since we were bringing part of dinner.)  We hung out for a bit and ate dinner and then left the kids with Nana and Papa while we headed out on a date.  After a short drive, we ended up on the beach to watch the sunset.  It was quite windy and cold, (typical of the Pacific Northwest coast), but it was wonderful to snuggle with my hubby and enjoy an uninterrupted conversation with rolling ocean scenery.

Saturday, we took the kids to the community 4th of July celebration.  Our kids bounced themselves crazy in several inflatable bounce houses.  I asked if I could join them, but I wasn't allowed.  (Bummer.)  After they rode the kiddy train, we headed home for lunch and naps.  Once the kids were asleep, we left the kids with Nana and Papa again, (They were lifesavers this weekend!  I SO needed the break!).  My brother-in-law and his girlfriend introduced us to geocaching.  What a BLAST!  I'm totally hooked. 

That evening, we roasted hot dogs in the fire pit and then headed to the beach for fireworks.  It was still cold and windy.  While conditions have been comparable in past years, this year was much windier than ever before.  The kids, (especially Clayton), weren't too impressed with the blowing sand.  The girls spent their evening with pillows and blankets in the back of Papa's car.  I love that we can (legally) let off our own fireworks here.  And, this year didn't disappoint.  By the time we left, every inch of me was covered in a fine, dusty grit.  Thank goodness for hot showers.

Sunday, we enjoyed the local ward.  And, I enjoyed connecting with my college friend.  Seems like 4th of July is our once-a-year time to catch up.  Last year, (we hadn't seen each other for about 10 years), I was pregnant--and Clayton was born about 5 weeks later.  This year, she is pregnant and due in about 6 weeks.  Who knows what next year will bring?

My ever-gracious in-laws offered to stay with our children again that evening so Ryan and I could head back to the beach to watch the 4th of July celebrations.  Although I LOVE fireworks, by the time that evening rolled around, I didn't feel like changing back into 100 layers of clothes and/or freezing my buns off.  So, we decided to stay home--out of the wind and out of the cold.  Instead, we watched fireworks on TV.  Not quite the same, but I still felt patriotic.  And I still thought a lot about the freedoms we enjoy in our country.  After living in a post-communist part of the world for a year and a half, I feel very strongly about the need to preserve our freedoms.  And very grateful for the sacrifices that have been made for us to remain free.

This morning, we got up, packed up, and headed out.  We anticipated a bit of holiday traffic--but ended up not encountering any.  (Although there was an Kallie-induced emergency pit stop at a Rest Stop about 20 minutes from home.)  Throughout the remainder of the day, I finished reading a great book (The Whistling Season by Ivan Doig--slow at first, but loved it!), found out I have been cast as Maude Dunlop in our stake production of The Music Man, and ripped out a few rhododendron bushes in our front yard.  And our holiday weekend is over.  Can't we have another one next week?

Out of the Blue

I have had a rough couple of days.  You know how it is when you feel like everyone is telling you that you need to improve at this or that...or that you're just not doing this or that well enough?  Well, that's how the last few days have felt for me.  I know I don't have to be perfect, but feel like I should be able to be successful at something.  It has certainly been a challenge.

But, today has been better.  Maybe it's because the sun was out?  Maybe it because I spent the day exploring the movement of the sun and learning about clouds with my kids?  Maybe it's because I drank enough water?  Maybe it's because I actually felt productive?  Maybe it's because my kids all napped?  (Although not at the same time...)  Maybe it's because I'm just tired of feeling blah?

While I'm not a fan of those blue moments, I am grateful that I have them.  They expand me...push me to refresh my perspective...and remind me to enjoy the good days. 

Memorial Day Weekend

I find it quite interesting that we spend this day to honor those who have sacrificed for our freedoms by enjoying the freedoms that we have.  Whether it's a working weekend or play, we are so blessed to have the freedom to choose to do those things. 
This weekend, we tackled several projects--some we finished, some we didn't.  But, most importantly, we made progress!  I'll just say here that I can't believe we've only been in the house for three weeks.  It feels like it's been MUCH longer--so I have had to convince myself to be patient with everything I want to do here.  One day at a time, we are transforming this place!

OK--since Friday night, we have completely painted the family room, mounted the TV, trimmed the bottoms of a few doors, made a couple of trips to Home Depot, ripped out an area of landscaping, rebunked the girls' bed, got drywall in the kitchen ceiling, and spent time together as a family.  (And, I use the term "we" here loosely.  Except for the painting and yard work, I was the lovely assistant in the projects. I know--I have the tough part.)

So, are you ready for some before and after shots? 

I'll start with the yard.  We have only scratched the surface of our yard.  We still have SO much work to do out there.  Since we were painting the family room, I wanted to rip out the plants that were blocking the light from coming in the family room windows.  But, it poured all weekend.  Until about 5 p.m. today when the sun finally made an appearance.  Once the kids were in bed, Ryan and I rushed out--and we finished just as it got dark.

BEFORE

AFTER

(This is a little hard to see because I took it in the dark.  But, you get the idea.)

OK--now for the family room.  Please note that we still have a TON of work to do in here.  We are going to put up chair rail and crown moulding...and still need to paint the existing trim and fireplace, which will all be white.  I forgot to take TRUE before pics.  (The first one was taken from our house listing.)  So, these were taken once we had moved everything into the middle of the floor.  And, I was impatient in taking the after pics, so things are still out of place in those--but I'm mainly including these so you can see the color difference. 

BEFORE

AFTER

Life as a Facebook Status

My life today has been a series of status updates.  And, since I'm not one to update my status multiple times per day, here they all are for your enjoyment.

I finally met my goal of getting up, dressed, showered, and ready before the girls were up!  I got up early and they slept in a little.  I could get used to this.

Oh no.  The car won't start.  I should probably turn the interior lights off so my 3 yr. old doesn't leave one on again.

Thank goodness I've already met my neighbor.  And she was home.

I could spend hours in the paint department of Home Depot.

Walls are (partially) primed and ready for action!

Hmm..Not sure I like the look of Scottish Isle and Feldspar in my family room.

The more I look at Hawaiian Sky, the more I'm convinced that's definitely the color for my bedroom.  Now, if I could just get a new bedroom set and change the bedding...

I think I put a little too much basil on my Black Bean Pizza Burger.  I really love basil, but the balance was off.  (These will soon be posted on My Little Red Kitchen.)

I can actually hear the rain.  Ryan took the girls to run errands.

Baby sleeping...second coat on the walls...time to empty my brain onto the blog.

Ta-funch-a-munch

Today, I went into the Mother's Room during Sunday School to feed Clayton.  Another mom was in there with her baby and we started talking.  During the course of our conversation, we talked about going on our missions, how we loved the MTC, how our lives were when we got home, etc. 

At one point, she mentioned that she got home at the beginning of May 2003, (I got home at the end of May 2003).  It then occurred to me to ask her where she went on her mission.  When she answered, "Madagascar, " I replied, "Tafunchamunch!"  (Which means "goodnight" in Malagasi, the language spoken in Madagascar.)  She looked surprised and said, "How do you know that?"  I said, "Some sisters in the MTC told...Wait a second, when were you in the MTC?"  And then we discovered we were there at the same time!  After putting 2 and 2 together, we realized she and her companion were probably the sister missionaries that taught me that phrase.

From Provo to Madagascar and the Baltics to Covington...the world sure is a small place!

My Little Red Kitchen

Announcing "My Little Red Kitchen"!  I've decided that it's high time I started a cooking blog.  Making meals on a daily basis can be SO mundane.  I started this blog to make it a little more fun--so I can share my adventures along the way.  Check it out!  (See the button on my sidebar.)  And then come back for second helpings...and thirds...and fourths...and...

Before and After

Tell me...Can you see a difference?

BEFORE

AFTER

The Middle Drive

While we were driving to Home Depot last Monday, Kallie commented that it would be really cool if cars had sidewalks to go on.  I replied that they do--they're called roads.  After a slight bit of protesting, she finally came to the realization that sidewalks are for people what roads are for cars. 

Then, as we were heading home from the 4 hour shopping trip, she said, "Mom, I think roads should be called "middle drives."  You know, because we drive in the middle."  I was actually quite surprised by her observation--but it made complete sense!  A sidewalk is on the side and used for walking.  So, it makes sense that a road would be a middle drive.  It's always fun to be with my kids when something clicks for them!

Wanted: A New Role Model

Last night, it was Kallie's turn to give the FHE lesson.  Unless there is something that needs to be addressed, we usually let the kids determine their own topic.  Kallie decided to talk about sharing and being kind.  We read a story about some brothers and sisters who surprised their family by trying to be more like Jesus.  There have been a few opportunities for reminders in the 24 hours since last night's lesson.  One of them was this afternoon.

Today was a crazy day.  I won't go into the particulars, but the girls didn't get a nap and I was a little on the stressed side.  On the way home from the doctor's office today, Whitney and Kallie were bickering and Whitney was getting very whiny.  Kallie reminded her about being kind and I said, "Do you want to be like Jesus?"  Whitney replied, "Yes!"  And then I explained that Jesus didn't whine and He didn't fuss and cry.  Whitney seemed surprised by this, "He didn't?"  Nope.  And then she concluded, "Then I don't want to be like Jesus."

Can you identify with this, too?

Vancouver Temple Open House

A few months ago, when I realized there was a temple open house just a couple of hours from us, I knew that I wanted to take my kids.  I wanted them to see the inside of a temple and have one more opportunity to teach them about what happens in the temple.  After discussing this with Ryan, we immediately set to work on our passports in preparation for the event.

We originally planned to go on Monday, April 19.  Imagine my disappointment when that day found Kallie very sick and Whitney coming down with the same thing.  I started praying my guts out that we would still be able to make it before the open house ended on Saturday, April 24.  Each day we woke up hoping to see a change in the high temps the girls were running.  We figured if Kallie was looking better, we'd know how long the illness lasted and could calculate when Whitney would be done. 

By Wednesday, Kallie had made only minor improvements and Whitney was still in the thick of it.  That same morning, I ended up at the doctor for a lovely case of conjunctivitis.  When I came home and realized Kallie's eyes looked just like mine, I took her to the pediatrician.  After looking her over, the nurse practitioner proclaimed, "Strep!" based on her little throat.  Swabbing determined it wasn't strep, but the NP decided antibiotics were the way to go.  Thursday morning, she was looking much more like herself again.

Knowing that Whitney was 2 days behind Kallie--and STILL hoping to make it to the open house, I took Whitney to the pediatrician Thursday morning.  Her throat looked alright to me, but I just felt like it was a good idea.  (Just for the record here, Kallie complained a TON about being sick.  Whitney didn't complain one bit.  Except once or twice to say, "My head hurts.")  Good thing I took her in--she had a raging ear infection.  As I picked up the second bottle of antibiotics, I decided that it would be easier to remember to take the medicine with two little people to remind me.

Thursday night, Ryan and I prepared to go to the open house the next morning.  We would go on Saturday if the kids weren't well enough, but if they were doing fine--then we were going Friday.  When Whitney woke up on Friday, her eyes were brighter and she had no trace of a fever.  Game on!  We dressed everyone in church clothes and packed up the car.

The drive up was really nice!  We haven't been further north than downtown Everett, so we enjoyed seeing the new places on the way.  When we got to the Canadian border, there were a few very short lines.  We were 3rd in line and had waited about 3 minutes when the lane next to us opened right up, so we slid right in.  As we drove into Canada, I changed our GPS to kilometers.  A 20 min. drive through beautiful Langley, B.C., we parked right next to the Vancouver Temple. 

We walked across the parking lot to the church building where the tours began.  After sitting in the chapel for less than 5 minutes, they took our small group into a classroom in the building to show us a short video about temples and about the history of the church in British Columbia.  When the video ended, we walked back across the parking lot to the temple.

The Vancouver temple is absolutely beautiful.  I haven't been inside a temple that isn't beautiful, really, but there were features that I just loved about this one.  The attention to detail was amazing to me.  The decorating theme in this temple is the province flower, dogwood, and ferns--which according to our tour guide are very West Coast.  There were small dogwood flowers on the handles and tips of the door handles and the chandelier in the Brides' Room was patterned after the dogwood.  Once again, amazingly beautiful.

One feature that our guide pointed out was that since the Vancouver temple is a smaller temple, there is light from outside windows in almost every room.  Sure enough, as we went through, there really was a lot of light coming in through the windows.  I loved it!  After the tour, Kallie reported that her favorite part was the Baptistry and Whitney's favorite part was "the marrying room."  My favorite part was being there with my kids--taking the time to let them know that these things are important to me.  The spirit was incredibly strong through our entire tour.  I was just so grateful that we were blessed to be well enough to enjoy this experience as a family. 

After having cookies and flavored waters at the chapel, we packed back into the car.  We stopped for lunch at a local place, and then stopped off at a grocery store to pick up a few Canadian treats for the kids to try.  (We did a tasting session after dinner when we got home.)  We had a 30 min. wait at the border back into the US.  We felt like we got off lucky with such a short wait--the lines going into the US were much longer earlier in the day.

I am so glad we were able to go!  It was such a fun and memorable outing!

(P.S. Because of my eye infection, I can't wear makeup or my contacts.  I am not a fan of going without either of these things.  Makes me look a little more washed out in this pic, but life goes on, right?)

Whitney's First Person

No paper is safe in my house anymore.  In fact, I've had to start protecting the paper on the printer, even though we have an entire box.  My girls go through it like they go through liquid soap.  (Speaking of, how do you keep your kids from using up all your liquid handsoap?  Our think it's the greatest toy ever.) 

So, last week, my girls raided the paper.  Their drawings are ALL OVER the house.  The most popular art project at our hosue these days involves 138 red Hello Kitty faces stamped on one piece of paper and then a few of the faces are selected for additional features--like black scribbles, circled eyes, and random doodles.

Whitney was hunting for a fresh piece of paper the other day when I handed her a Hello Kitty-ed sheet and said, "Look, it's still white on the back!"  A few minutes later, she came to me with the following drawing.  I was amazed to see that she had drawn a person.  But, her description made the pic even better!  (The "in" and "out" lines were drawn as part of the description.)  "Jonah and the Whale" has been a frequent topic of conversation at our house lately, thanks to Primary and Family Home Evening.

.

And it begins...

The time has come.  As you can see, these boxes have moved us a few times. 

Just one more to go and then we'll gladly pass them on to someone else.

What's Missing?

Welcome to the lastest edition of "What's Missing?"  (Remember to say the title in an announcer-style voice.  Makes this post worlds more interesting.) 

Here's how to play:

Read the following clues, then decide what's missing.

• Excessive drooling
• Grumpy disposition
• Not sleeping well
• Tugging on ears
• Chewing on everything
• No fever (See, I've just elimnated one possible answer for what's missing.  You're welcome.)

There are the clues.  I'll sing the Jeopardy theme song while you're thinking.

**da-da-da-da-da-da-daaaa, da-da-da-da-da!-da-da-da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da-da-da, DA!-da-da-da-da-da-da**

Now for the answer.  (If you're still thinking, return to the Jepoardy theme song until you've got an answer.)

If you guessed "Clayton's Tooth," you're right! 

You've won my hearty congratulations and the satisfaction of knowing your kid isn't the one teething!  (Unfortunately, there are no parting gifts for those who didn't answer correctly.)  Thanks for playing!

Home is Where You Hang Your Heart

My heart has been precariously hung on the "Yellow House" for almost 4 weeks now.  We have been moving forward with a bit of caution, not knowing what would yet be required in order to make this house ours.  And, there are many things that have been out of our own control--which makes us even more cautious.

Today, we heard back on the appraisal--the final hurdle to our home ownership, (at least with this home).  It came in right at the asking price, which we pretty much expected.  However, contrary to our expectations, there were no conditional clauses to hold up closing.  What a surprise!  But, truly, what a relief.  We are going to be homeowners in about a month!

This experience has been, at times, very harrowing for me.  I don't know why it was so intense on my end, but I feel that I've learned so many good things through this experience.  The details are personal, but here's a Reader's Digest version of my learning curve:

Greater trust in personal revelation
Greater faith in Jesus Christ
Greater trust in the Lord's timing
Heavenly Father is more powerful than any aspect of the housing market
Heavenly Father wants to bless us with our desires

I feel incredibly blessed by the way this has all turned out.  I look forward to moving in, settling down, and making it into our home.  After all, my heart's already in it.

One Movie, Two Lessons

Last night, we introduced our daughters to "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs."  We had been calling it just "Snow White," but the full title includes "and the Seven Dwarfs."  But, that isn't one of the lessons.  So, maybe I should say One Movie, THREE Lessons.

Anyway, on to the first lesson.  As we were watching SW&T7D, I realized that all princesses seem to be relegated to housework prior to becoming a queen.  (OK, except Jasmin and Pocahontas.  But Pocahontas really isn't a princess in my opinion.  And I didn't like the movie.  So, she doesn't count.)  All the others had to learn to work hard and do so happily before they realized their full kingdom-leading potential.  Recognizing this idea made me feel all the more princess/queen-like in my own life.

The second lesson happened as Kallie was relating the end of the story to me.  (I had to head upstairs to feed Clayton and put him to bed before the movie ended.)  When Kallie came to say goodnight, I asked her to tell me about the rest of the movie.  Not that I'd never seen it.  I just wanted her version.  She told me that the Wicked Queen gave Snow White the apple, and then Snow White died.  The dwarves were sad and gathered around her while she was in a glass box.  Then the prince came.  He kissed her and she came back to life.  And now, here is the lesson: The prince picked Snow White up and put her on his horse.  Because she couldn't walk.  Probably because she was dead before.  Consider this your warning should the same thing happen to you!  (You know, with the poison apple and all...)

MomGyver

Being a mom comes with many opportunities for extreme creativity.  Today was one of those opportunities.  This morning, I took all three kids to the Primary Easter activity.  (Ryan was down at The Yellow House for the inspection.)  The kids were divided up into groups and got to make the rounds to several different Easter-themed stations over the course of an hour and a half--and then there would be an Easter egg hunt. at the end.  To make things a little easier for me, I tucked Clayton into my Moby and rotated through the stations with Whitney. 

About 30 minutes before the hunt, she started doing the potty dance.  We made it to the bathroom in plenty of time and, since the three of us were a sizeable group, we used the largest bathroom stall.  Since the potty in that particular stall is so tall, I lifted Whitney onto the potty and then repeated several times the instruction to "Lean forward!"  When she was about half way done, she stopped leaning forward and got her leggings, skirt, and unders wet.  Great.

Now what?  I don't carry changes of clothing for my fully-night-and-nap potty trained child.  We had two options: leave the party or come up with clean clothes.  Kallie was rotating with her group and Whitney had been having a great time--I didn't want to call the party on account of a little moisture.  I gave all three layers a good inspection, just in case one was still useable, but there was no such luck.  I headed out to the car, hoping that somehow we had something clothing-or-unders-related in the resident 72-hour car kit.  Unfortunately, the resident had temporarily moved to the garage.

Fortunately, Clayton still wears diapers, and while they're 3 sizes too small for Whitney, they could still do the job.  I grabbed one and then grabbed Whitney's pink-polka-dotted fleece jacket from the back of the car.  Once in the bathroom again, I velcroed the diaper on, then wrapped Whitney's lower half in her jacket, zipping it up so the hoodie was around her waist.  I then tied the arms in front--and voila! she was wearing a pink-polka-dotted fleece skirt!  Good thing Whitney likes skirts.

It felt funny for a while, (according to Whitney), and she hid behind me while we were walking back to the main event.  But, once she realized no one noticed her make-shift skirt, she didn't seem too phased by the whole thing.  She finished the activity stations and then participated in the egg hunt with no apparent concern over her clothes.  When we got in the car after the event was over, Whitney said, "Mom, as soon as I get home, I'm going to put on pants!"  She was such a little trooper--and I succeeded at an exercise in creativity.

Blowing Kisses

Quite a while back, I started a naptime tradition with Kallie.  It began back in the day when I had to stay in their room and wait for Whitney to fall asleep.  (Otherwise, she would get out of bed and/or talk to Kallie, keeping both of them awake.)  After Whitney fell asleep, I would quietly sneak out of the room and shut the door.  Usually, Kallie wasn't quite asleep and would pop her little head up to say good-bye.  Instead of talking, I started blowing kisses at her.  And she, being a little sponge, decided if mom did it, she should too.  So, after a while, she started blowing kisses back.  To be silly one day, as she blew kisses on my way out, I "caught" them in my hand and pressed them to my cheek.  Kallie eventually followed.  Then, one day, Kallie decided to be silly.  Instead of catching them in her hand, she opened her mouth and caught the kisses.  She caught so many that it made her cheeks puff out!  I love this little routine we've got going.  Now, to come up with another surprising way to catch kisses...so I can catch Kallie off guard!

Courtesy of Love and Logic

Many of you know that I try (some days harder than others) to implement Love and Logic principles in my parenting style. Just as we have to study and learn most topics little by little, so it is with Love and Logic. Having a successful experience bolsters my confidence--although these experiences are usually the result of praying for creativity and the ability to keep a cool head in the heat of the moment. Here are some examples of what I consider successful experiences:

Whitney is my girly girl and likes to get into my makeup drawer. Most of my makeup is purchased from the aisles of a big box store. Nothing too expensive. And, when she gets into it, she usually smears some on her face and is done. Recently, she got into my loose powder. It ended up in piles on the floor and counters and some spilled down the white cupboard doors. To me, the logical consequence was that she needed to clean up the mess. So, we brought in the vacuum, put on the attachment and let her take care of it. One of the principles of L&L is "build the self concept." By having Whitney clean up her own mess, she knew she could be responsible. She knew she could control the vacuum and she was very pleased with her accomplishments in the end. I, on the other hand, was also proud of her. She took responsibility for her mess and I didn't have to clean it up.

The other L&L success story involves Kallie. Over the past week or so, Kallie has reverted to hitting, instead of using her words. This creates a whole chain reaction of crying, coming to tell mom, having to hear both sides of the story (which takes a LONG time), instructing to hug and be friends again, and then going back to play--and then repeating this process several times a day. Obviously my method wasn't working because nothing was changing. I don't expect immediate results, but I do expect that over 2-3 days the behavior will change. It didn't. So, I changed my method. After one such drawn out episode last Thursday, I told Kallie in a very sweet voice that girls who don't use their hands properly won't get to use their hands--and that I would tie her hands together if she hit again. She and I laughed about it and then we moved on with our day. Well, Friday morning, sure enough, she decided to hit again. I had long forgotten what I had said the day before, but I used my typical question: What happens when we hit, Kallie? And, she dutifully reminded me, "I'm going to get my hands tied together." Yes. That's right. (Thanks for reminding me...) I pulled out an old nylon and cut off the top and the toe. Then I said, "Do you want your hands in front or in back." She chose front, so I loosely bound her hands together and then said, "OK--go play!" She complained that she couldn't use her hands, which really was the point of all of this. After a little while, we took the nylon off her hands (it was loose enough that she could have taken it off at any point--she just chose to leave it on) and we had a little talk about how not having the freedom to use our hands is not fun. It must have left an impression because she hasn't done it again. I figure there will be a time she will forget and I will remind her about losing her freedom--which, knowing Kallie, will be enough to keep her from hitting again.

The House

Quite a few people have asked for pictures of the house. Here they are! We're signing all of the "under contract" papers today. The inspection will happen next week--and we are praying that it goes well. This home is a foreclosure, and we're not sure how long it has been neglected. But, we will say that it is in great shape for being a foreclosure!

Here's the house. It's yellow with black shutters. I think it needs a red door. We want to remove that big tree blocking the view of the front door.

These is what you see looking straight ahead from the front door. There is a living room immediately to the right of the door. And a bedroom and 1/2 bath on the right of the stairs. To the upper left, there is a decorative ledge that draws your eyes up the 2-story entry. (Oh goodness--I sound like I'm auditioning for HGTV or something! LOL)

This dining room is to the left of the entry. I eventually want the bottom part of the wall to be white with shadowboxes and the top part to be a muted deep teal. That little patch of wood floor you see goes to the kitchen.

This is the kitchen. It's currenly burgundy, but will be cherry red when I get my hands on it. The door on the left (barely visible) is from the garage. The white door on the right is the laundry/mud room. Just in front of the laundry room door is the eating area--and there are french doors that lead out to the patio.

This is the family room, as seen from the kitchen. There is a half wall just to the left of this photo. The family room windows look out on the backyard.

This is the master bath and our absolute LEAST favorite feature of the entire home. We can't stand the crackle painting on the vanity and don't know why someone would even consider doing that. This bathroom is pretty small for a master and does not have a tub! That was one of my requirements for a home, but obviously, the other features outweigh losing that one thing. The kids' bathroom also has double sinks and is a little larger than this one.

This is the view from the side of the back yard. To the left, there are TALL evergreens that make the backyard a bit more private--which is nice because there is a major-ish street on the other side. The shed has a small workbench in it, and there is a tiny garden plot on the other side of it. You can enter the home through the french doors, (you can see the edge on the lower right), or through the mudroom door, which is on the side of the house. You may notice the satellite dishes scattered on the shed roof. Apparently, there are FOUR of them. I wonder why they can't remove one before putting the next one up? They'll all come down when we move in.

So, there it is! I never thought we would find something so well matched to our family. We are certainly excited about this!

How Do I Know?

One of the favorite movies and soundtracks in our family is Enchanted. Whitney can be heard belting the music while she dances and spins in circles wherever and whenever the notion strikes. Her favorite? (This must be sung with staccato emphasis on each word, which is how Whitney sings this part.) "How do I know he loves me?" It was with this song running through my head that I started to think...

The past couple of days, there have been a few things that have happened that remind me how I know Ryan loves me. First of all, one of the hardest things about having a new baby is the lack of sleep. Clayton sleeps well for the most part. But, there are some nights, I only get about 3-4 hours of sleep before he wakes up. Sometimes, when I go in to feed him, I fall asleep in the recliner in his room, sitting straight up with my neck cranked to one side. Not very relaxing. On the nights when I fall asleep in the rocker, I don't feel as energetic the next day. Heaven help the mom with 3 children age 4 and under who doesn't have any energy! So, I usually try to keep myself awake for long enough to get Clayton back to bed. (Usually 15- 30 min.) The other night, I fell asleep in the recliner again around 2:30 a.m. Sometime around 4 a.m., I woke with a start when Clayton's door opened. There was my sweet husband waking me up so I could get back to bed and feel well rested when I got up for the day. He didn't have to get up at 4. He was just helping me get more sleep because he knows how badly I need it.

This morning, as I was getting ready for the day, I noticed that my cell phone was on my husband's dresser. I immediately knew that he had heard it "complaining" it was almost out of juice--and he plugged it in to charge on his dresser. This happens on an almost regular basis. Sometimes, I don't hear my phone signaling in distress. Other times, I hear it, but I just don't care enough to go get it. My husband, on the other hand, cares enough about my phone that he will plug it in for me.

There are, of course, other ways that I know my husband loves me. But, these small things make me so happy because I know my husband is doing them to help me be happy. I couldn't have asked for anyone better!

The Safety of Home

Lately, in her prayers, Kallie has been asking to "please bless us with the safety of home." I think she may have combined a few things she's heard us pray for, but I wanted to know what she meant by it. So I asked. At first she didn't know. And then after a couple of days passed, she said, "Mom, I think it means to help us be safe at home."

In my mind, it became something different as I thought about it. The world is crazy. I don't think anyone can deny that. The speed at which everything moves, the dangers--real or perceived--that "lurk" around every corner, spirituality and morality has become relative.

But, our home is a haven from the world. We generally don't watch a lot of TV--possibly by choice, but more because it's just more noise. I have 3 kids. I don't need more noise. We rarely have the radio on--even in the car. Once again, more noise. I don't mind quiet peaceful music, because that is soothing to a frazzled soul. Our home is one in which the Gospel of Jesus Christ is taught--doctrines which are also soothing to a frazzled soul. These are things which, to me, allow my home to feel safe and secure.

So, as I hear my daughter pray for "the safety of home," I silently second the request. Please let my children, my husband, and myself carry the safety of home with us as we navigate this turbulent world. And please magnify my efforts to make our home a place of safety.

Fun Giveaways!

March seems to be the month of giveaways! I have two to share:

First of all, my friend Heidi is hosting her first ever giveaway HERE. Her friend is offering custom wall letters for your child (or you, I suppose). You should check it out--so cute! (I'm hoping to win this one so I can cross Whitney's wall letters off my TO DO list, where they have been residing for about 2 1/2 years now.)

Also, my friend Shannon is hosting a giveaway of chocolate and lip gloss HERE. If you know me, you know that these are two of my favorite things on the planet! Of course, I'd like to win this one too--for that reason.

Head on over and check them both out!

Riding the Potty Train

Whitney was ready to potty train about 5 months ago. But, there was a new baby. And a new calling. And the holidays were approaching. And I hated potty training the first time around. And... I'm sure I could come up with 35 other reasons not to pursue potty training at that point.

January rolled around. The baby was a bit older. The new calling was not so new anymore. The holidays were behind us. Potty training wasn't THAT bad the first time around, right? So I decided to give it another try.

The result was accident after accident all day every day. I tried not to be frustrated. I tried to show Whitney how FUN it is to use the potty. I tried using a reward system. I tried TWO reward systems. Nothing worked.

Ryan said, "Just give it time. We have to let Whitney do it when she's ready." So, I did. I hushed all of those voices in my head that said, "She's three. Some kids have been potty trained for a year by now. At the rate we're going, we may hit four. Or five. (Please no.)"

And, then, two weeks ago, she ran into the bathroom all by herself and she pooped in the potty. And then, on Sunday, someone in Primary noticed she was doing the potty dance and took her to the bathroom. And then during that week, I found her running to the potty. And then she wore the same diaper for an entire day because she stayed dry. And she refused to wear a pull-up to bed. Or at all. And she was potty trained.

Oh, the rewards systems are still in place. I want her to know that I do what I say I'm going to do. But, most of the time, she forgets. Potty training has not been about rewards for her. But, about being a big girl. She has been dry for 5 days straight. And she is triumphant.

Even when she went to the baby sitter's house. Even when she's playing outside with her sister. Even when she's dressed up like a princess. She makes it to the potty on time. Because she's a big girl.

And everyone at our house is thrilled because she did it herself.

Third Time's the Charm

A few years ago, I was sitting with my friend on the steps outside my Wymount apartment. We were chatting about having children. At the time, I had my two girls and my friend's third child was several months old. She commented that sometimes she wished she had been married sooner, so she could have a lot of children. I had recently gone through some tough times related to having babies and wasn't sure I could handle more than the two I had--so I couldn't share that thought process. And, as I talked with her, a thought came to me. People who have more than two kids must really love kids.

At the time Kallie was 3 and Whitney was 1 1/2. While they were still young, it seemed that there was still plenty of "me" time. I was able to sleep through the night and get up and exercise each morning. I also had time to accomplish various projects and get the apartment clean. Watching my friend, (who really is a great mom--I still look up to her!), it seemed that she was involved with kids from dawn until dusk. I remember her saying she wanted to get up early in the morning before the kids woke--and all I could think was, "Your baby just started sleeping through the night! Give yourself a break!" To be quite honest, I wasn't sure that I enjoyed children and/or parenting enough to enjoy a third child. For the record, I really love my kids--I just wasn't sure I loved children enough in general to make that difficult jump to three.

Now that I actually have three, my theory stands true in my own life. My days are filled from dawn to dusk with mothering. My children have become my most important project. Of course, they were important before--but most free time is now filled with children. Having a third child has been the easiest transition yet. I find myself wanting so many of the same things my friend expressed to me that afternoon. I would love to have a houseful of children and those early morning hours seem like the best time to wake and prepare for the day ahead. There isn't a lot of time for projects. Some have been put on hold indefinitely. And, my "me" time has significantly decreased. But, this doesn't bother me at all. To everything there is a season--and there is no better time than now to enjoy being a mother--to throw myself into it heart and soul and soak it up as much as possible.

Post-Script:
Just for the record, this doesn't mean I never have bad days. I've been reflecting on embracing motherhood the past couple of days and these have been my thoughts. And, one more thing, I understand that the number of children you are able to have doesn't mean you do or don't love mothering. This is just the learning process that I have experienced on the path of my own motherhood.

The eyes have it...

We've been sickies for the past week at our house. The cold symptoms have hit some of us harder than others...and Whitney is still bearing the brunt of it. She's so sick that you can still see it in her eyes. (Come to think of it, she's the only one on antibiotics. Strange.) Anyway--because of this, I've let the girls watch a movie in the morning the past few days to keep Whitney resting so she can get over this darn cold!

This morning, Whitney requested "Lost Nemo." I took advantage of the time to put the baby to bed and send out a few e-mails. I came downstairs when there was about 30 min. left in the movie. Kallie turned to me and said, "Mom, I was so happy that I got tears in my eyes."

"Why?"

"Because we are a family forever."

We are. And, that makes me so happy that it gives me tears in my eyes, too.

The Crock Pot Conundrum

I got a crock pot as a wedding gift. Yes, it was really given to us, but I think everyone understands why I say I got it.

It's one of the gifts I've used the most in the past 6 years. And, let me tell you, I love that thing to pieces. Literally. Both handles have fallen off and there's something rattling around inside...maybe a screw? Maybe a plastic handle-connecting piece? It still works great--but the whole rattling thing makes us uneasy.

I'm sure you can imagine my excitement last Christmas when I opened a shiny new crock pot! I no longer feel the need to wince when I plug it in for fear that somehow, that screw was going to lodge itself in a precarious spot and cause a catastrophe upon connection with an electical source. The new one is completely intact and rattle-free! I love my new crock pot. And, it has already slow-cooked many delicious meals for us. But, one problem still remains.

When I put something into the crock pot, it's usually early in the day and I'm not really very hungry. However, right around lunch time, delicious aromas begin to sneak out from under the glass lid covering the enormous stoneware pot. Those aromas then seek me out, wherever I happen to be, and wriggle their way up into my olfactories. And I think it's going to be a great dinner.

By the time lunch rolls around, I'm unconsciously in the mood for whatever is simmering away in the crock. So, I usually end up putting together a little of this and a little of that for lunch, because this and that would really hit the spot. And, I eat lunch. And it does hit the spot.

It's only after lunch that I realize what I ate involves the same ingredients that are bubbling away in the crock pot. I'm one who doesn't like to eat the same thing twice in a row. Even two days in a row is pushing it for me. And, suddenly, dinner doesn't sound so great anymore.

The Cook-Off

Remember how I said I had a million posts to post? Well, this is one of those.

Back in October, our ward held a chili cook-off in conjunction with a Halloween party. I make good chili, but mine is really nothing to brag about. So, I decided not to enter. Ryan, on the other hand, has been dabbling more in the kitchen and decided to enter. He found a recipe on Allrecipes.com (Boilermaker Chili), went shopping, and put it all together. We ended up with a stock pot FULL of chili--but it was the best chili I'd ever tasted. Heavy on the meat with just enough heat to give it a nice kick, but not enough to merit the title of "This will burn your entire digestive track." (1000 times better than "Darn Good Chili" from Bear Creek Soup. The name used to be "Damn Good Chili," but they either changed the recipe or realized all those Mormons in Utah weren't buying the chili because of the foul language on the packaging.)

As the judges were deliberating near the serving table, we kept hearing them mention a certain number. I wasn't sure which number was assigned to our pot, but Ryan was pretty sure it was ours. And, if I'm honest, other chilis were good--just not with the depth of flavor that ours had.

Sure enough, when the winner was announced, it was Ryan! He won an apron along with bragging rights until the next chili cook-off. I've wondered for a long time if there was anything Ryan doesn't succeed at. With this accomplishment, I'm starting to realize that there really is nothing he can't do!