the polished pickle

even santa needs a dad.

2012-02-02T10:21:00.000-08:00

late nights in the office. early mornings, too. and he'll still gladly take the night shift at home.

i'm in love.

little bird.

2012-02-02T10:06:00.000-08:00

did i say bird? i meant nerd.

she's at home with duke and me for parents, that's for sure.

date nights.

2012-01-31T22:50:00.000-08:00

my mom insisted that she come over a few nights this week and watch the kiddos so that my babies and i can go on dates. one on one.

best mom ever.

(by the way, my accountant husband is working 12 hour days for tax season. in case you thought he was a scum bag.)

i love dating my children. for some weird reason it always surprises me how wonderfully we get along. family is the place to find best friends.

can i just say that i adore spending time with my oldest child? i really, really do. he and i have so many similar interests and we think, talk and act alike. he's easy going so we can just walk out the door with no plans and let the opportunities for fun fall on us.

he feels most loved when he spends time with someone, face to face, talking. me too. he likes to hear how spectacular he is, and i like to tell him.

sometimes he gets sad. he can't come up with a cause for his pain but he hurts inside. sometimes he cries. i love being the person who understands his sad feelings. i love that he can sit with me and cry and cry, and that i know he'll be okay soon so i can just hold him and wait.

he didn't cry on our date but later he did. maybe because the escape was so lovely and real life is so hard for him right now.

while we were out he told me it was really nice not to have to worry about his brothers getting into trouble. i didn't know he worried so much about that.

he talked about angry birds a lot. he told me that he wants a real, working watch for his birthday. he wondered aloud why girls get to wear sparkly stuff and boys don't (glitter is just so awesome).

when we walked through a clothing store in the mall he pointed at almost every woman mannequin and said things like, "mom, that necklace would be nice. do you want it?" or "that would look really cute on you." i say this all the time, but someday he's going to make a lucky lady very, very happy.

oh, he even went into bath and body works and smelled all the lotions with me. and i raced around a parking garage with him. he really is a phenomenal friend.

i am endlessly thankful that my mom offered to help so that we could go out.

is there anything greater than a date?

how about three in one week?!

tomorrow is iggy's turn and he's already got it all planned out. i can't wait so see where he takes me!

what "two" looks like.

2012-01-30T13:15:00.000-08:00

zip line.

2012-01-30T12:47:00.000-08:00

i love their little bodies.

i love that almost any rope holds their weight.

i love that the distance from the ceiling to the floor is very long to them.

sometimes i still think i'm that small. like the other day when we were playing sardines and i hid in a packing box. i prayed that someone would find me before i broke my back in two.

i watch them climb the door frames and i remember when i could. i remember how high-up i felt.

i love that we all start small. my dad jokingly says the house he grew up in is smaller than he remembers. imagining the way his mother saw him makes me smile.

once my brothers and i made sheet hammocks in a tree. we ripped holes in all of the sheets. i bet mom was not happy about that, but i can't remember that part of the story.

oh, i hope they squeeze into all the tiny spaces they find. that they hang off of flimsy lines. that they climb the piano and feel like they're on a mountain top. while they can.

my, how i love that a rope with the pvc pipe for a handle and a mattress near the bottom is as good as any fancy carnival ride.

yes, i love their little bodies.

thanks and thoughts.

2012-01-30T11:57:00.000-08:00

thank you, friends, for your parenting advice and support. i feel like i have a full tool box of solutions and i am excited to try your ideas to help the boys be kind. keep the helpful hints coming.

the phrase "we love those we serve" has been playing on my mind's loop for a couple of days. this inspiration has been so subtle that i almost missed it. when the light-bulb flipped i realized that i need to do more to serve them- not just the regular things (which are hard for children to notice). i have so many opportunities to speak love to them and in turn feel my love for them grow.

no more fighting fire with fire. contention with contention.

for some time i have been feeling like the first person awake sets the mood for the day. i want to be that person but i'm failing in that goal. they're always up first, uttering a hurried good-morning and rushing to the computer for netflix.

i needed a way to change the routine. but awaking early is too ambitious for me these days, especially when i wait well into the night for duke to come home.

"aha!" i thought. "i might not be the first one up, but maybe i could influence the mood of the first one up!"

a spotless room to brighten their morning. with kind notes addressed to them in the stairwell.

heck yeah.

i tell you what, they came right into our room like it was Christmas morning to tell us about the hearts. then we sat on the stairs together to read all the compliments i wrote to each of them the night before. even in my most groggy mornings i can read prepared compliments.

my next plan is to involve each of them in secret service (not the Secret Service) for one another. maybe they'll sneak and draw someone a cool picture. or make them a snack. or do their job for them.

because we really do love those we serve.

shouting over the noise.

2012-01-29T22:50:00.000-08:00

Truth is, my kids have been beating each other up.

Truth is, I have no idea how to make them stop.

I feel like I can't always be supervising every communication in the household, but it seems like that's what they need. Like they need a mediator to work out any toy exchanges or ideas and execution of games.

Lawlessness. Only not, because they have all sorts of ideas about the way things should be run. "Sharing" has been forced with swift kicks to the head. "Not listening" leads to throwing toys and mad dashes through the house.

They have their own horrible world of malicious punishment for arbitrary crimes. And I hate it.

Sometimes their meanness brings a horrible spirit to our home. (Does that make any sense?) And since I can't beat it, sometimes I join it. I punish over the punishments, like yelling louder to be heard over a shouting brawl.

Obviously that doesn't work.

The other day I yelled and yelled. We fought a pointless battle of wills for hours. I got so upset when I found my oldest digging through our pen and marker drawer, without his having asked, that I sent him to his room.

Then I found this on the table...

I know that many have weathered this storm before my time.

How?

common scenes from the past week.

2012-01-29T22:35:00.000-08:00

so many supers.

plenty of paint.

sick of sandpaper.

tens of twinkies.

fast food feeding frenzies.

dirty diapers.

and attitude problems all around.

entirely exhausting.

whew.

my weakness.

2012-01-29T22:20:00.000-08:00

generally speaking, i'm alright with getting rid of things.

when it comes to books, though, i think i boarder on hoarder.

my sweet husband has been so very patient with me as we've moved our little home-library from house to house.

presently i have so little time for reading. i think owning these books keeps my hope for some alone time alive. someday i'll sit in a comfy corner and explore these waiting worlds.

for now i'll walk by them every day and try to come up with an inexpensive and aesthetically pleasing way to store the darn things.

oh, heavns. we adore you.

2012-01-29T22:12:00.000-08:00

Baby girl. Your laugh will brighten the lives of many folks you'll meet.

Brightening starts here. Now. In the lives of your folks.

What a privilege.

nap snaps.

2012-01-28T11:50:00.000-08:00

Since moving last week every day has been so tiring. Duke and I stay up much too late each night putting the house together but the kids keep on waking up early, you know? I'm sure you know.

Nap time is glorious. Glorious, I tell you.

I thought I'd share just a little bit of the sweetness of sleep.

When they sleep I paint. Or clean. Or organize.

Maybe in a little while I'll be able to nap along side them.

My sleep-photo montage would not be nearly so adorable.

eating this up.

2012-01-26T21:18:00.000-08:00

one last romp.

2012-01-19T11:41:00.000-08:00

goodbye backyard.

you have been so very good to us.

thanks for always being there when we need you.

we will miss your vastness. your shaded splendor.

we just had to enjoy you one last time, even if it is the rainiest part of winter.

but for comfort after a rain-run there is always a warm bath.

awe, sad. bye bath tub.

you've been so good to us, too.

guys, we'll miss you both.

everloving.

2012-01-19T11:06:00.000-08:00

Is it still Monday?

2012-01-16T15:44:00.000-08:00

Slowest day EVER.

So slow that I'm thinking of cutting my hair just for something to do.

I bet that's why kids cut their own hair. And why they can only shrug when you ask, "why did you do that?!"

Awe, bangs were so cute, Megan. You should do it.

Other Megan, do you remember how long it's taken to grow these bangs out???

You're right, Megan.

Wait, which one of us is right? Are we cutting? I'm confused. Me too.

Savor this.

2012-01-15T18:46:00.000-08:00

Our life is mostly in boxes.

Our toys are mostly packed.

Our clothes are mostly bagged in the garage.

Here's an understatement; we're excited to move!

We will sorely miss our cozy, little home here. But the new house is its brother, really. Just slightly bigger, but mostly the same. Still cozy. Perfect for us.

The boys didn't want to move at first. (What little kid ever really wants to move?) Then we showed them the doughnut store down the street from our new place.

Through Friday I'm planning to savor this last bite of "now." I'm recording every tiny moment.

Along those lines, Duke and I watched this video the other night, both trying not to cry towards the end. Then afterward we fought over the honor of holding the baby in the middle of the night. (Usually we'd be calling "not it.")

Thank you, Rach, for sharing.

Once we might have laughed at the cheesy music and room full of tender-moms. Having kids has turned us into blubbering... parents.

And don't we love it.

i think she likes it here.

2012-01-15T18:39:00.000-08:00

guess what.

2012-01-12T10:59:00.000-08:00

Hey, y'all should make a "guess what" post with signs and leave me a link so that I can come to your life for a quick visit!

I would love that.

today's top five.

2012-01-11T14:45:00.000-08:00

5. Iggy asked me if we can have 20 more babies.

4. Fitz went down for his nap without a fight and yelled "I love you, mommy" as I walked away.

3. Sparky tried speaking to a lama using sounds he learned on Go Diego Go, and it really worked.

2. Moe went on her first swing-ride.

1. The boys polity asked one "Mr. Rabbit" to move so that they could see the egg it just laid.

More pictures from our farm outing here.

The dream of the 90s is alive in Portland.

2012-01-09T22:58:00.000-08:00

So once an alien to Oregon came for a visit.

He said he couldn't tell a difference between the state's fashion elite and their homeless.

It's true. Plus all of the cutest girls wear glasses (even if they don't need them). Nerds.

Tamsin and I were both going on and on about how adorable Emily looks in this style. Don't you think?

We counseled her to turn her back on the Disney Channel Divas. To quit ferociously manicuring her nails and stop wearing a bump-it on her sweet, 10-year-old head.

My mom was standing behind us when we were complimenting Ems and we turned around to see a very puzzled look on her face. She says that she remembers when those glasses were what people who really needed glasses wore. She remembers wearing those glasses. She despises photos of herself from the 80s, wearing those very glasses.

Well, mom. They're back. But not for long, so enjoy the fun while it lasts. (Exhibit A.)

Lately I've been off of the fashion train. Actually, I wore sweats to a birthday party. Then Fitz peed on me and I didn't even change my clothes for another day and a half. Gross.

Bleubird Vintage is one of those blogs that makes me feel motivated to be a cute mom again, but not in a self-loathing way. Speaking of birds, are they still stylish? (Exhibit B.)

I've been looking for an excuse to be darling.

Tamsin messaged me from a computer at school saying that her day was grey and that the only cure was a photo-shoot. Heck yeah!

I'll post some of the photos soon. I hope you enjoyed our sneak peek video, though. Don't you love the song that my mom intruduced me to? (She's a trendsetter in more than just huge, thick glasses, you see.)

an other beautiful mess.

2012-01-06T10:52:00.000-08:00

pinch those little cheeks.

2012-01-06T10:43:00.000-08:00

be free, inner child.

2012-01-05T19:18:00.000-08:00

Each morning this week I've awoken feeling woefully weary. Then I've forced my face into what I'm sure is a ridiculously hideous grin and I've popped out of bed like a piece of toast.

Doesn't the level of activity a young child exhibits in the early hours seem somewhat supernatural? If grown-ups could only suck a little of their spunk out like a vampire with a morning kiss...

Sorry if I scared you. That was a really spooky thought.

What's scarier is that I am totally going to imagine some of their energy passing to me through their kisses tomorrow. And it will work, I think. Mwahaha.

I made an incredible discovery at dinner time today. Whining is the worst. (That's not the discovery.) The boys were warring for the last popsicle. I was like, "Hey now chillins! There are like four different flavors of delicious ice-cream. Why would you fight for a nasty, freezer-burned, gross-flavored popcicle?" I know why. Because there was only one nasty, freezer-burned, gross-flavored popcicle available and to a boy, eating "the last ______" is like sinking a 3 pointer to win the game as the buzzer sounds.

That reminds me of another funny story.

Anyway, they were whining about the last popcicle-

Oh, what? You must hear that other funny story? Okay, okay. Well after Iggy's big dance recital his aunt and uncle gifted him a balloon and some special sweets. His brothers were envious to say the least. While they fought over the balloon Iggy tenderly opened his chocolates. The trace amount of sugar in the air immediately beckoned brothers. Iggy saw them from across the room and, anticipating that I might ask him to share, he shoved every last candy into his mouth before they'd taken two steps. Triumph! He chewed the hodgepodge of flavors, chocolate drizzling from the corners of his mouth, when suddenly with a sputtering gag the whole mess flew out of his mouth onto our couch. Yum.

Back to my discovery; whining wastes away on opposite day.

"We don't want to go to behhhhhhhd!" (my ears are bleeding)

"Oh, it's opposite day! I guess that means you DO want to go to bed!"

"We really want to go to bed, mom!!! Yes! We can't wait!" (oh, i thought you'd never ask, sweet children)

In the case of the popcicle...

"It's mine! I-eeee want it!"

I cut in, "so you don't want it then? Remember that it's opposite day."

"Oh yeah! You have it! Take it!"

"No, you have it! I hate popcicles!" (giggle, giggle, giggle)

They can debate all night so long as they're not drawing out their phrases into horrific, life-draining whines.

Also, opposite day is nice for confusing them into submission...

"If you don't not give that toy to your brother I will not be going to maybe tickle you."

(what, mom??? I can't think, so much pressure. ahhhh! she's coming over here to tickle me!) And so comes the hurried surrendering of the toy.

Seriously works. Maybe it's just because we aren't falling into the same old argument- I say this, you respond with that, and on and on.

Oooooo! Duke is home! See you, suckers! (sorry about that. i've let the kid in me out and it does want to not maybe go away never.)

my one resolution.

2012-01-03T15:32:00.000-08:00

Follow Their Lead.

break it down, now.

a. wake up bouncing, running, smiling. wake up frenzied.

b. see everything. notice the world around. grin.

c. stop moving. let amazement in simple moments be. watch a while.

d. ask. ask anything about anything. ask for anything.

e. be daring. fearless. hope and have faith.

f. follow impulsive thoughts to adventurous ends.

g. bring positivity to the table. lend unending optimism to everyone around.

h. feel empowered. feel outstanding. see a super hero reflected in the mirror.

i. live oblivious to critical opinions. assume everyone is friendly inside their own head.

j. have a friendly head, yourself.

k. trust. especially trust God.

l. run around half-naked and wet the bed often.

just kidding about that last one.

not fair. no. but well.

2012-01-03T14:22:00.000-08:00

We tried really, really hard to make sure he wasn't lost in the shuffle.

Fitz turned two on the 29th. Days after Christmas. Days before New Years.

For his party we had a little bike rodeo and I think it was a hit.

You know, I'm always worried that he's going to feel gypped. Middle child. Following a steam-roller personality. Followed by our first baby girl. And he's so...

Accommodating.

He almost didn't get to eat his own cake. Iggy was swooping in on the last piece (a second slice). Nursing the baby, I sat helpless and asked my brother to intervene on the birthday boy's behalf. "Can you take that cake from him, Fitz hasn't had any yet." Upon hearing my request, Iggy frantically stuffed forkfuls into his mouth. We managed to save some half-chewed chunks.

Here's the thing though. Fitz was just pleased to have any at all.

He is the kindest, gentlest, most thankful boy, with zero entitlement in his reasoning. I will do my best to make things fair for him- but in my failing is perhaps found his greatest schooling. He is a peacemaker. A lover. In part because he's had to make the most of the short-end of the stick.

Speaking of his peacefulness; I've been curious to see how the terrible-twos will touch him. Well, he's becoming busy and inquisitive. Still good natured. He gets frustrated and hits (like any tot will) but it's the sweetest thing...

He became frustrated over something and hit his brother (more like tapped his brother gently). "Hit Sossy!" (That's what he calls his older brother.) I urged him to be kind. "Hit mommy!" He tapped me, too. Then I reminded him that hitting people was not a good way to express frustration. "Hit blanket!" He stared at his blanket for a second after smacking it and then looked up. He turned to his brother. "Sorry Sossy." Glancing at me. "Sorry Mommy." And directing his gaze back down. "Sorry Blanket."

I look into his beautiful, blue eyes and behold through that window a soul, true and gracious. I see pure love.

Happy birthday, dear son.

Can I be unfair in your favor for a moment? It almost never happens. Just for this moment I'll tell you a secret.

You are my favorite.

Sometimes I feel like telling you that.

Now back to loving you all equally. Because I do.

tax season and time passers.

2011-12-29T10:02:00.000-08:00

On days without Duke we morph into a near-feral gang. Ice cream for breakfast. Pajamas all day. A house like a junkyard.

I know that when he's around I don't need to impress him with my homemaking skills or anything. But with him to be a cheering spectator I've got some motivation to achieve in my wifely life. Take away my fan and our once adventurous team watches movies all day long.

When he's away I put the kids to bed at 8pm and don't expect him until after 10. So what do I do with those precious hours? Geek-out on the computer, of course.

I think about all the time I've spent making banners for this silly blog.

Woof.

Hey, remember when things were really simple? When we only had one kid.

Hey, remember my incredibly narcissistic phase? I haven't entirely grown out of it as evident by the fact that I'm still blogging.

Oh yeah. There was that time when I craved color.

With each baby born, I've had to find ways to squeeze everyone in...

Take previous header, add infant.

Do you ever look back at certain periods of your life and think, "wow, that was the tops?" I've placed Summer Of 2010 in a pedestal position. I often wish for a repeat. The summer ahead is shaping up to be that brand of magical. I do believe that hope will sustain me until April 15th when my accountant husband can linger in my arms again.

The computer. Photoshop. Fellow bloggers. That is my retreat. This year I hope to moderate my escape. This year I plan to find other avenues for stress relief. I say that every year. I mean it every year.

Oh, sweet change. You keep me alive.

Did you know that we are about to close on our first home? Did you know that I will be in furniture-rearranging heaven? Although Duke will not be around to help much in the moving and the cleaning, I think the challenge will come at the perfect time for my change-hungry soul.

Family of six. Holy cow. Have I mentioned lately that I am a mother of four? I have a daughter now. These children are my strength. My comfort. They don't even notice when the house is messy. We can do this. Hand in hand in hand in hand in hand.

Yesterday was a long day for Duke. While he worked tirelessly I photo-shopped my children eating the sun. My life is so hard, right?

Heck yes, I've got the better end of this "you work and I'll stay home with the kids" deal! I'm suddenly invigorated! We can do this! We will totally rock this!

Now off to compose a live list.

a few christmas snap shots.

2011-12-28T18:55:00.000-08:00

Iggy was an angel.

2011-12-19T15:31:00.000-08:00

I am not even kidding.

Imagine 40 three to four year old children in a 25' X 25' dressing room.

Imagine that the room has really hot makeup lights. Yes, really. The children were wearing makeup so they couldn't cry or wipe their faces without someone bothering them to stop. They were restricted to water and crackers because they couldn't eat any food that might stain the costumes. (Luckily a thoughtful mom sent her child along with a massive amount of string cheese to share.) I'm sure you can picture that there was no room to play.

Imagine that the four parent volunteers (myself included) have no idea what is going on. Picture those clueless volunteers torturing the angels by getting them in full costume too early, making them stand against the wall, quietly waiting for their cue, and then forcing them out of their costumes again upon receiving word (45 minutes later) that the dress rehearsal is running 3 and 1/2 hours behind schedule. Believe it.

Those darling children were applauded by a full house for adorably appearing on stage in a 30 second performance.

Had that audience known what the darlings had been through the day before at the dress rehearsal, there would have been a standing ovation for the real angel performance that took place backstage.

That was the dress rehearsal. Five hours of hell for forty angels.

The show (pictured in this post) was the heavenly setting for those halos and wings. One third the number of children. Much wiser volunteers. A smoothly-running show.

I came away from the experience with a real picture of what it takes to be a dedicated dancer.

And what that means for a mother of a dedicated dancer.

At first I was sad that I would miss seeing the show from the house seating.

Now I feel totally privileged to have seen Iggy so well-behaved in such a miserable situation.

Three and a half months ago Duke and I prayed for guidance in helping Iggy with some behavioral issues. We felt inspired to enroll him in ballet and to challenge him to earn his dance clothes and shoes for the class through a reward system we devised together.

I never could have foreseen the spectacular strides he's taken since then.

He walked out onto the stage and I could have jumped for joy. He did it. He made it. Here his hard work culminated in the object of his desire.

A massive "awwwwe!" rang in their baby angel ears as the audience fawned over their near-deadly cuteness.

They walked out and stood dumbfounded in a clump, wide-eyed and totally captivated by the grandeur.

Iggy remembered (about halfway through his part) that he should be doing something besides staring at the sugar-plum fairy. He turned a little spin. He wandered a bit. He wandered some more, so much so that the enchanting fairy and an older angel lovingly directed him off stage.

And that was that.

Back to the dressing rooms to wait for curtain call where they sat on the stage and stared blankly at the strangers in front of them. Iggy saw me in the wing and ran to hide in my lap before the curtain even closed.

I honestly don't know if he'll even want to go to dance class when it resumes next week. He was all too anxious after the show to replace his dance slippers with hero boots.

We'll see. All I know is that those dance shoes have helped him to find some inner grace.

What a lovely way for Father to answer a prayer.

my sister the showgirl.

2011-12-19T15:00:00.000-08:00

Thank you local high school for moving the Spring musical up so that we could enjoy a "White Christmas" in Oregon!

My sister played a totally ridiculous (slash promiscuous) showgirl and female lead dancer.

Oh my heck, it was fun.

Did you know that I have the best husband in the world? You can spot him standing in a very slow-moving line during intermission to get Sparky and I cookies while we goofed around.

Did you know that my sister is nearly 18 and she's still never had a first kiss (if you don't count the stage kiss a while back)?

So watching her play this part was so delightfully shocking! I loved every second.

We sat in the fifth row back, which happened to be the row that was magically snowed-on in the closing scene. I was taking photos and saw the flakes through my lens. Having no peripheral vision with my eye glued to the viewfinder, I became both confused and joyous when I thought it was really snowing (like with real snow) everywhere, on everyone.

And Tamsin was the one playing the ditz. Haha.

Did you know that I'm really going to miss my sister when she graduates and moves (probably to Utah) in the coming year?

I bet you could have guessed I'd miss her.

Hooray for family. For Christmas. For Theater. For cookies. For cameras. For opportunities to be merry.

pickles.

2011-12-14T11:38:00.000-08:00

a. wear a two-year-old in a back-pack.
b. carry a two-month old in a front pack.
c. chase two kids on bikes, ushering them across streets and encouraging them to keep riding.
d. all of the above

I choose... d. all of the above. (Don't ask me why.)

And about half-way home we all start crying.

The other day while they were playing, Sparky said, "Common little brother, you can do it. We never give up."

My proud mom heart feels thankful for the pickles we get ourselves into. Because we've had a lot of practice getting back out.

We endure. And suddenly our home's never felt so warm. Our sandwiches have never tasted so good. Our nap-times have never been so welcome.

recipe for sunshine.

2011-12-13T16:12:00.000-08:00

Ingredients...

Yellow and red paint.

Mix well (or not) and apply to your life.

Yum.

our time here.

2011-12-12T15:36:00.000-08:00

Can I stay in this world.

Can I stay here where my legs get at least three, giant hugs before noon.

Where bedtimes are all stories and songs.

No curfews because they're always home safe by my side.

Can I stay here where the shoes are adorably tiny. Where small accomplishments receive the mighty claps and shouts of joy.

The change can't be helped. They'll grow like Alice until their limbs pop out of the doors and windows of our home.

And I'll long for their questions...

"Mom, you're a girl. Do you lay eggs like chickens?"

"Mom, when Jesus comes back will our DVDs stop skipping?"

Oh, how I'll miss the time when their world and mine were one and the same.

a world of difference.

2011-12-08T14:34:00.000-08:00

Three (recently adopted) practices that have made a world of difference in our family...

1. holding a morning devotional

2. eating at least one meal per day all together at the table

3. giving priority to scripture study and a small work-out routine as a couple once the kids go to bed

Sacrifices we've made to see these goals through...

We've given up... Netflix. Nighttime vegging. Sleeping in until the kids awake.

We've taken up... Efficiently planning and cooking meals. Dragging our bums out of our chairs.

The blessings cannot all be quantified or even identified, but here are a few we've seen so far...

Greater sensitivity to heaven-sent promptings. Increased patience with our children. More energy. Increased efficiency in carrying out our responsibilities. More time for one another. A decrease in the blues. An inclination toward positivity. Better communication between family members. An increase in righteous desires. Less complaining from us and our children. More frequent conversation about our blessings and love for one another.

You know when things get really, really hard and all the lights feel dimmed, maybe even extinguished? I've been there. To myself I've said the words, "I can't imagine being happy ever again." Those times are real.

Today I feel my heart saying, "I can't imagine being sad ever again." These times are real, too.

I love to think of our first parents in the Garden of Eden. I love Eve. I think she was wise and good and loved dearly by the Lord. She is the mother of all living and I feel a great amount of gratitude for her and Adam's fall into mortality.

"It must needs be that there was an opposition; even the forbidden fruit in opposition to the tree of life; the one being sweet and the other bitter. Wherefore, the Lord gave unto man that he should act for himself.

And now if Adam had not transgressed he would not have fallen, but would have remained in the garden of Eden. And all things which were created must have remained in the same state in which they were after they were created; and they must have remained forever, and had no end. And they would have had no children; wherefore they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin.

But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of Him who knoweth all things.

Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.

And the Messiah cometh in the fulness of time, that he may redeem the children of men from the fall. And because that they are redeemed from the fall they having become free forever, knowing good from evil; to act for themselves and not to be acted upon." (2 Nephi 2)

I know that mortality offers misery sometimes. Those times spent in the depths of despair school us that we might come to know, and fully appreciate, true joy. An eternal life spent in paradise with Heavenly Father could only be appreciated by one who had tasted sorrow and separation from Him.

Our joy is made possible by a loving Father who set a plan in motion, extended all of us an opportunity to make choices, and provided a merciful Savior so that we can turn our hearts to the things of heaven with hope.

I'm so glad for this time of great joy and I want always, even in the hard times, to remember that this joy is why we are here.

bundle of...

2011-12-08T14:11:00.000-08:00

light. love. cheer. color. smiles. warmth. heaven. laughter. purity. potential. hope. treasure. life. blessings.

joy.

sunset at the cemetary.

2011-12-06T14:37:00.000-08:00

My grandma passed away months before Duke and I were married. She was a lady that I knew, sort-of, but only with the limitations of childhood selfishness. I perceived her as predominantly strict and grouchy and overly critical.

I loved her then. I knew she was a good woman with a great love for her family. I can even hear her laugh ringing in my ears from the many times we played games together. But there is so much I don't know and never paid attention to about her.

When we moved back to Oregon after attending BYU-Idaho, we happened to move into a ward (church congregation) boundary filled with friends of hers. The people she taught and loved when she lived in the area for so many years. Upon our arrival many people pulled me into a friendly embrace and exclaimed things like, "Idabelle sure left a legacy of beautiful women" or "we're so glad to have you, especially if you're anything like your remarkable grandmother." I started realizing then that I knew near-to-nothing about her.

I've learned a little more about her from the people we've met here. She once gave a young couple raspberry starts and now that couple has offered to give us a starter from their flourishing bush. She taught arts and crafts to the sisters in the ward often. Seminary (an early-morning religion class) was held in her basement and the attendees roasted marshmallows in her fireplace.

I didn't come home for her funeral, being at the time away at school. As my heart has been turned to her I have come to regret my absence in that sorrowful time of my grandfather's life. We followed the setting sun to the cemetery the other night. I sort-of needed to prove to myself that I could remember where she lay. I walked around quite a bit and found her. My grandpa's name is engraved by hers, with his birth and a blank spot for his death year.

Shaken by the thought of that sad day in the future, I turned my mind back to grandma. Then I realized that the day he leaves doesn't have to be sad because she'll be there across the veil.

One truth I have witnessed since her death is that she is treasured by a loving husband. When she was sick with Alzheimer's for years and years he cared for her. Now he pines for her. He tells me he dreams of her "love pats," those times when she would walk by him in the kitchen and tap his bottom or put her hand on his shoulder. On their stone are the words, "Until We Meet Again."

If each life is a day, we all awake to the sunrise. We plan what we'll do. We do what we planned. And then we experience the approach of sunset. Hopefully we can enjoy the beautiful sky colors and calmly accept that the day must close.

I am thankful for a turning heart and a continuing realization that I really do believe that she and I will be good friends someday.

The law of family photos.

2011-12-06T14:23:00.000-08:00

Given a family and a camera to capture their picture, the difficulty that family encounters in the pursuit of a satisfactory photograph increases exponentially with each child they birth.

serving as a family.

2011-12-06T13:48:00.000-08:00

Alright, doing good turns with toddlers in tow isn't always a picnic. Any job takes twice as long. They lose interest quickly. They're a hard sell when it comes to helping others, having had limited experience with the joy it brings to everyone involved. Many of the projects can mean tedious repetition. Out of the carseats, back in the carseats, out again, now in and hurry. I dreaded a canned food drive we did a few months back until we actually showed up and got to work.

Today I have been thinking about helping my kids to "do" in order to encourage them to "become."

I hope they become men (and woman) of great strength of character. Of persistence. I hope they give and give of themselves in the pursuit of worthy goals. And this hope urges me onward. This hope has me up early in the morning to bake goodies for us to deliver. This hope drags me out of the house when I would rather stay home.

Duke and I have been working on getting ourselves out of our comfort zone. Here we are out of college, he's been working for a couple of years as an accountant and is now a licensed CPA, and we are content. We keep reflecting on the thoughts we had a few years ago...

1. When our kids are a little older and can understand we'll read the scriptures to them daily...
2. When things have settled down with steady work, we'll find a way to donate more to our church's humanitarian effort...
3. When we have a little more time, we'll serve more in the community...

Well here we are. Our kids are older. We're settled. And we fill our extra time with loafing. So the last few days we've been trying a little harder to "do" so that we can "become."

Their favorite service is to doorbell ditch treats. They love to be sneaky. They love to hide behind bushes and run giggling to the car for a quick getaway (as quick as it can possibly be with all those carseat straps!)

Today we made ornaments from their hand-prints so that later this week we can visit a nursing home and tell everyone "Merry Christmas." We've been practicing shaking hands and asking small-talk questions. I'm pretty excited about the experience and a little nervous about taking four kids to a care-facility on my own.

The potential blessings are worth the risk of a hectic outing.

kid-hat.

2011-12-06T13:39:00.000-08:00

When I put my kid-hat on, everything looks like an incredibly good time.

When I take it off, everything looks dangerous and/or improper to use for fun.

I like the kid-hat. I lecture a whole lot less when I remember to sport it.

won't you be my neighbor?

2011-11-30T09:01:00.001-08:00

Finding Oregon from Uncage the Soul Productions on Vimeo.

a lesson in hope.

2011-11-29T15:51:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning Sparky needed some space. He tried the kitchen and came crying when his brothers wouldn't leave him alone. I sent him to their room. They never want to play in their room. Except for right then when their big brother was playing in their room. He came down the stairs, more discouraged than ever, with an entourage trailing behind him. "Mom" he said, "I just want to be alone for a little while." The look he gave me then finished his sentence with an unsaid, "is that too much to ask!!!"

My heart went out to him. Any mother can relate. Plagued with sympathy irritation I made it my personal mission to get him that alone time he so craved. We tried locking him in the bathroom. That worked for a while until Iggy remembered that the claim of needing to go poop opens doors all over the world. Finally we awoke baby sister to set him playing in my room with the top lock latched. Whew for Sparky. Uh-oh for mom. Once the younger boys gave up scratching at the door like hungry cats they protested the situation with an all-out battle against order and cleanliness.

Over the next hour our ordinary day fell apart into a hellish scene from my worst nightmares. I lost my temper like I lost my wallet a few years ago- it was never coming back. I coveted my eldest son's freedom. I resented my husbands escape (as if work is an island in the Bahamas). I despised my baby's cry. I found myself fighting a three-year-old on his level. I sentenced a toddler to life-in-prison for climbing into the fridge to procure a glass of juice. I cried. I let a tiny attitude problem turn into the mean reds of mother frustration.

Writing this now, I can't believe I was that hopeless. I see the faces of my children and I wonder, did I really wish them away only a day ago? How could life seem so bleak then when it's to good to be true today? That's the kind of power I have over my own self. My attitude is everything.

Once I'm that low only a miracle or a good night's sleep (which is nothing less than a miracle) can pull me out. I didn't want to pray because I felt like such a monster shouldn't be allowed to approach God (in my right mind I see that's ridiculous, but when I need help most I'm never in my right mind). Instead I dreamed of jumping into my car and driving toward sunshine until I left the clouds of Oregon behind. I seriously wondered if the car had enough gas.

Just then I caught Iggy trying to cram a 2nd DVD into the computer. I ran to prevent the catastrophe, grabbed it out of his hands, and only then noticed which disc he was trying to play. You see, several months back I had borrowed a copy of motivational speaking tour called "Time Out for Women" but had not yet taken the time to watch. I thought, "I need a time out this very moment." I felt as if this might be a little help from on high. I fed each of the children, it being time for lunch and naps, and tearfully tucked each child into their bed, couch, bassinet, and floor (because a different kid naps in every room of the house).

In went the DVD. My hands folded laundry while my heart was comforted by words of "Infinite Hope" which was the topic of the tour and exactly what I needed that very moment. Hope.

"Here's another thing about Heavenly Father's love. It comes in unforeseen ways. Sometimes in ways that you never could have predicted. And yet is always exactly suited to our needs." Exactly as I heard these words, the sun broke through the clouds and into our window, warm and real. Just for me.

If you ever lose hope like me, in the way that I've just explained, you'll appreciate the advice by Emily Watts that became an answer to an unsaid prayer of deep sorrow. The peace her instruction gave me was a miracle if ever I've experienced one...

1. Never let go of the hope that children can improve, can progress, can grow. And not just children, but that you can improve and progress and grow.
2. Never lose hope that the work of motherhood is worth it.
3. Never lose sight of the hope that Heavenly Father knows who you are, knows what you do and stands ready to help you do it in ways that are so unforeseen that you might just have to blink to even recognize that that's what's happening.

I know He's there. I know it.

Mountain-top love.

2011-11-29T14:45:00.000-08:00

I always forget to take our picture when we go out for a date night. I'm afraid I'm going to forget about the times we go do that stuff. Really afraid. Yesterday I was so bummed that he had to go to work that I totally forgot that we'd spent a wonderful weekend together. I have a weird memory. A selective memory. A self-serving memory. I think things like, "we never get any time alone!" when we absolutely do. A lot.

So I wanted to write a few quick notes here. Reminders that we really are romantic sometimes. Let me paint the picture...

1. We sat in the corner of a crammed bistro. We were overdressed and old compared to the crowd of angsty college students around us. There were free cookies, fresh out of the oven, and we ordered hot chocolate. So many students had come out to hear their friends perform in an open mic night (or because they heard about the free cookies) that the tables were being used as seating. The table next to us couldn't take the pressure and split. Literally in half- crashing with the weight of a bunch of girls who fell into a pile on the floor. Once we found out they were alright, we still didn't laugh (right then) because it would have been rude. Instead we played cribbage, listened politely to the poetry readings, and footsied under the table.

2. We dined at McMenamins. Decadent for our little budget. Every bite was heaven. While we played cribbage we reminisced about our courtship and even confessed a few secrets. After knowing one another well for nearly 9 years, those giggly secrets are becoming more rare. We were sublimely content together in our little booth.

3. We walked around goodwill. I ogled the $10 jewelry they keep in their glass case. Duke found the perfect corduroy sports-coat. They had to kick us out at closing time (which happens to us a lot).

4. We played footsy and cribbage while we ate cheesecake and chocolate pie at The Konditorei. Our deserts didn't disappear completely because they were so deliciously rich. We stared at our food and eventually pushed the plates away, which is a very abnormal scene around this household.

5. We drove with friends to Portland for a night of dancing; can you believe it? The sweet music of the 80s rang out all around us. The Crystal Ballroom's floor bounced to the beat as we jumped and swayed and generally rocked-out amidst the crowd. We didn't dress-up per say, but I crimped my hair, wore bright-red lipstick, and felt super adorable. Duke pegged his pant-legs for the occasion. We people watched. We ate pizza on the ballroom's balcony at midnight. It was the dancing experience I'd had a hankering for. We stood in front of a giant fan to air out our armpits and everything! I'll admit that we'd never heard The Cure's "Close to Me" before that night. When it came on we looked at one another and all the background noise and movement faded into a dark blur, just like in the movies. All I could see was him. All I wanted in the world was him. We were 18 again for a dance. I know he felt it, too (she said in her most cupid-struck tone) because although we never said a word about it, on the drive home he simply stated, "we should download Close to Me by the Cure." I loved him then with that mountain-top love, you know? Like if our passionate feelings change like a tide. This was the tops.

I should probably quit before I make someone throw up.

Oh, hey we're on a sugar diet together and everything smells like cookie-dough right now.

The end.

Fitz.

2011-11-29T14:21:00.000-08:00

I am shockingly optimistic about his terrible twos.

He can be moody-broody. If looks could really kill, his stink-eye would burn his victim into charcoal so that the wind could dramatically blow them to pieces. I can't help laughing when he does it- here's the part where the hope comes in- and as soon as I crack a smile he feels so proud that he's made me happy that he forgets why he was mad in the first place.

I've never met a more forgiving child. A more cheerful child. A more grateful child. His most-used words are "thank you" and his most horrible tantrums end in laughter.

I'm sure he will get into a ton of stuff he shouldn't. I'm sure potty-training will present the regular challenge. But he'll look at me with those beautiful blue eyes and grin his goofiest grin. And I'll melt like a Popsicle on the fourth-of-July (which is a lot less painful than being turned into a charcoal statue and blowing away, but it leaves a bigger mess).

get it while it's hot.

2011-11-27T21:44:00.000-08:00

I've been slowly coming around to the realization that life will not always be exactly the way it is now. My siblings will probably move away. My children will grow tall. My grandpa will one day leave us to be reunited with his life's love.

This Thanksgiving I've been thankful for the present. For the joy I have each day with my family around me. When we went around the dinner table, taking turns to express our gratitude for something special, I shared my love for photography. Really, I meant I am thankful for now. And that I have a way to preserve it for later. Leftovers in the freezer when the holidays are past for a time.

So I made a special effort to catch the reality of now. No cheeses. Just the way it really is at Grandpa's for dinner. I hope you enjoy a peek into our present and a record worthy of our future reminiscing.

Just try to sneak a piece of Turkey...

Duke's not afraid to chop fingers...

Even hiding in the washroom, everyone will come sniffing.

The boys play underfoot in the kitchen, no matter how many times we tell them to take the party elsewhere.

Mom is always the master chef. The rest of us help with sides and such.

Stinker.

I will sneak you a couple of bites. But don't tell daddy.

Uncle Brenny sets the table. He'll be off to work soon, but we love the time we have him to ourselves.

We leave our plates upside down until we give our thanks.

And more turkey thieving.

Kissing when we find ourselves in an empty room for a brief moment.

Baby faces. Snuggling. Loafing. Reading. Texting. Talking politics.

Oh, and grandpa has the best toy closet.

We come together for the feast. Smiling. Sharing. Laughing. Thanking. Talking talking. Praying.

And eating.

After the plates are scraped clean everyone lobbies for the position of "baby-holder." In this case grandpa wins. His booming voice sends her slumbering.

We slow down to half-speed. We half-chat. Half-nap. We're fully content.

Then a few of us remain at the table for games (usually dominoes) while the rest of us retire to the living room for relaxing or wrestling, depending on our preference.

Uncle Billy soaks in the craziness during his visits. I think we fill his chaos tank to keep him going while he's at home in the beautiful Washington forest. He always comes back when his tank runs low.

I cherish so many things about grandpa's home. It really a place of love. When my grandma was alive she often sang...

There is beauty all around,
When there’s love at home;
There is joy in every sound,
When there’s love at home;
Peace and plenty here abide,
Smiling sweet on every side,
Time doth softly, sweetly glide,
When there’s love at home.

I imagine she watches over us often and is proud of the legacy she left. The home she built with my grandpa wasn't made with walls and a roof, but with loving invitations, effort in areas of kindness and acceptance, and with a constant devotion to family.

Things are always changing. How wonderful to be alert to the present joys while they're happening. I want always to live in thanksgiving.

baby face.

2011-11-22T15:02:00.000-08:00

My, how we are loving our baby girl.

People keep asking me if I've noticed anything different between her and the boys yet. No, not really. Except when she gets mad, she gets MAD. Like if I'm nursing her and I stop to burp her before she's had her fill, she absolutely flips. Or if I bend her finger slightly-crooked as I try to get her tiny hand in a sleeve, it's the end of the world. But I bet there are many sensitive boys and a large sampling of rough-and-tumble baby girls out there, too.

Here she is, mad that we didn't immediately free her from her car-cage when we walked through the door...

Generally though, she is the sweetest baby you'll ever see. She sleeps through most night, lets the boys smother her with affectionate (slimy) kisses, and takes in the world with wide-eyed-wonder. When she's not sleeping (20+ hours a day), she is usually contently eating. When she's neither sleeping nor eating, she wants us to stand her up. She holds her head high and works her muscles, like she plans to be the first jazzersizing baby.

And she sticks her tongue out...

We fit the stereotype of doting parents perfectly, don't you think?

I'm pretty sure her fist steps will happen on water. (Since she's perfect, you know. Get it?)

Easy home-made nativity.

2011-11-22T14:24:00.000-08:00

How about an easy jenga-block and linkin-log nativity idea?

I loved this project! This whole set only took me about an hour or so to make! And since I used the scrap fabrics that I already had, it's very "us." Meaning we match it. Literally.

Anyway, I nailed some linkin logs together to make the stable arch and manger. 8 jenga blocks did the trick. And 3 small linkin-logs for the sheep and baby.

(Don't you love our cluttered counter? It's a peek into our life right now, behind the scenes. Breast pump. Sea monkey tank. Ingredients for grilled-cheese sandwiches.)

Back to Bethlehem! I cut out a bunch of rectangles of fabric to make their little robes and hat-things. I also used any bows or buttons that I liked. It was like picking all of the costumes for a tiny church play! Only the children would be screaming if you secured their clothes with a glue-gun.

Luckily we had a little, button star floating around the house so I grabbed that up and used fishing line to attach it to another small button (about an inch and a half apart). Then I hot-glued the small button to the bottom of the archway.

This morning I found these three kings hiding in our vacuum. That's another thing I like about this nativity. It's just blocks! I don't have to worry about a piece getting lost. I've got a partial jenga set left over (mostly scattered around in the backyard mud) in the case a shepherd leaves home to seek his fortune.

Yarn hair. Ribbon wings. I set the angel on a wooden block.

My favorite are the sheepies. Using white and gray yarn, I fashioned small pom-poms and fluffed the string out. They cheer me up.

I love hearing the boys play with the figures. I especially love when the cradle baby linkin-log Jesus in their arms and take turns giving him kisses. Heaven.

I've got everything that I need right in front of me.

2011-11-21T00:20:00.001-08:00

I'm pretty excited for the new muppet movie.

Mostly because of what I've heard of the music. Duke and I couldn't resist learning this one together...

The song is too new, so there aren't any chords posted online or anything. We spent a couple of hours trying to learn the song by watching tiny clip fragments that have been released. Time well spent, since we were working together, growing closer, and laughing a lot. We're pretty proud of ourselves.

I love singing with him. I love having him by my side. I love being so in love.

PS-Bret McKenzie of Flight of the Conchords supervised the music for the muppet film. Huzzah.

In the case that someone wants to sing along with their sweetheart, I'll post what we came up with for chords. No promises on accuracy. Enjoy, you lovers everywhere.

(Click the picture to enlarge)

ulterior motives.

2011-11-17T14:22:00.000-08:00

I'll tell you a secret.

Sometimes I suggest to the boys that we make a blanket fort.

What I don't tell them is that their dad and I will totally make-out in it after we've put them to bed.

Or in a case like yesterday night. Just play scrabble and drink cocoa like a couple of goonies.

Little baby. You're crashing our grown-up party. Could you possibly sleep a wink tonight?

PS- Guster has a fun new-to-me song, yo. Perfect for blanket-fort kissing. Do you love me?

A successful nature discovery venture.

2011-11-17T13:13:00.000-08:00

The following is a small excerpt from an article by Sharon Dequar about discovering nature with children...

"When was the last time you took your family walking in the rain, wading in the stream-like gutters? When wind whips through the night or when fog lies so thick and low that streetlights become pale glowing orbs, do you venture out, all of you holding hands, without a flashlight? Have you simply slept under the stars in your own backyard?

Think of the attitudes parents convey to children in such experiences, not necessarily attitudes about thunderstorms or snakes, but about life and the joy of living! Spiritual experiences can’t be staged, but one fruitful avenue that involves our children and ourselves in inspiring experiences is to explore—fully and enthusiastically—God’s creations. In the course of growing up we tend to acquire a worldly sophistication that dampens this enthusiastic sense of wonder about nearly everything. Cultivating wonder about nature heightens our appreciation of all creation and begins to break down our artificial distinction between things temporal and spiritual.

The parent asks, 'how do I teach my children about nature?' I’m an interpretive naturalist; 'teaching' is my job. So I speak from experience when I say, 'You can’t, yet. Not until you know that nature really can’t be taught; it can only be discovered. And we adults cannot share in discovery until we reawaken our own ability to see the world through childlike eyes.'

A good way to begin discovering nature is by becoming more 'sense-able.'

Teach your eyes, for example, to see, not just to look. Become alert for movement, large and small, in the grass, in the sky, at the borders of your vision. Look for colors that differ from their surroundings and for subtle changes and mixtures of hue. (There must be a hundred shades of green or brown in any summery scene). Look for shapes that seemingly don’t belong—a bird-shape or pine cone amid the fine branchlets of a tree.

As we, with our children, develop an appreciation for our Father’s creations, we also develop those other elements of faith—a sense of wonder and a sense of truth. Together we are discovering nature—including human nature and the divine nature as well."

OK, this is Megan speaking now. My favorite way to help my children discover nature is to become lost in it, literally. Taking roads less traveled, within reason of course, and walking side by side in the discovery keeps me from becoming the glossy-eyed tour guide. I am alert for potential hazards and with my eyes that wide, I see all sorts-of things I would probably miss in a familiar place.

That's one reason our most recent hike through the forest to a hidden waterfall was so spectacular! Not one of us had ever been there. We took a road-nearly-never-traveled and let me tell you, it was hard work! We slid on our bottoms down a ravine, crossed over (and under) fallen logs, and braved rocky footing, all with children holding our hands or in our arms or strapped to us somehow.

The other joyous feelings on our hike were engendered by the company of all my siblings. All of them! We haven't been bushwhacking all together for some time. I only wish that we'd had a way for mom and dad to come along, although I think they've always been pretty good at telling us to "have fun storming the castle" then listening to our telling of the adventure later.

I love my brothers and sisters. I love my brother's wife and daughter (they also have a BOY on the way), and I obviously love my sweet husband and babies. Our family keeps getting cooler and cooler with each addition! I just can't wait for my other siblings to marry their catches. I guess I can wait for my age 10 sister to get a little more... old (though she's pretty adept at acting "grown-up." I mean, look at that snooki-poof she made herself. This hike was exactly what the doctor ordered for this Disney-channel super-star buff.)

The hike was tough. The company was sublime. The husband was looking pretty darn hot.

And we were so very thankful for our good friends Rusty and Marlaine who heard about this waterfall and let us bum an adventure.

Walking around the rock-wall edge to see such majesty... I was so glad to share that moment with my children. Poor Moe was asleep in the front-pack but I doubt her eyes could have made any sense of the white blob of water anyway.

Bottoms before hike:

Bottoms after hike:

Sweet success.

guess who.

2011-11-11T23:50:00.000-08:00

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

11.

12.

4,6, & 9 are Sparky. 3, 7, & 12 are Iggy. 1, 8, & 11 are Fitz. 2, 5, & 10 are Moe.

They're siblings, that's for sure.

Now, I've spent far too long looking through old photos. The process reminded me that they're growing far too quickly.

dear jemayla.

2011-11-11T22:54:00.000-08:00

i miss you so badly. i wish i could be with you while you prepare for your sweet baby girl. and since you're pregnant, it would be so much easier to make you pee your pants laughing. but then i would probably pee my pants laughing, too.

we could make a sequel to our alien invasion movie. or hang a bunch of stars from the ceiling and just lay on the floor for an hour staring at them. we could go ice-skating or sledding or see a basketball game and yell awkward things at the players.

mostly i wish we could have a house-warming party for you (since i've never even seen your lovely place). and by that i mean i wish we could dance-party so much that we heat your house to an unbearable temperature. then we can run outside barefoot in the snow and feel incredibly privileged to be living life to the fullest when all the other people in the world are sleeping.

tonight i put some music on while i was cleaning. then i started to dance. then i started to miss you so badly. as you can tell, my dance moves are getting a bit rusty. it's a lot harder to come up with new moves when you're not there to make me feel extra silly.

i really hope our daughters grow up and miraculously find themselves as roommates in college. at the risk of sounding ridiculous, i'll say it was destiny that we were thrown into that dorm room together. cheesy, right?

remember the day after we met when we played and played and played and then fell asleep while watching peter pan, so comfortable with one another, like we'd always been best friends?

remember when we would stay up all night talking so often that when we actually did decide to get some shut-eye we had conversations in our sleep?

remember when spring started to come and we celebrated by chasing random pedestrians and trapping them in a blanket?

remember how you wouldn't take your backpack off until you did your homework so you were always wearing your backpack at the dinner table and while we were watching movies?

remember when we both got married to wonderful men?

remember years later when we were the luckiest, saddest married girls who got to room together again while our husbands could not be with us for a semester?

jemayla. i have another cheesy thing to say. having you in my life is one of my favorite blessings ever.

let's take our husbands backpacking in europe together someday (since we already promised them we would). for reals.

swaddled to sleep.

2011-11-10T14:30:00.000-08:00

At first she cries...

then she wiggles and wiggles, and cries and wiggles more until...

out pops a tiny hand.

She yawns.

She blinks.

She endures a little bit of pestering.

She keeps one eye open for a while, just like her daddy.

And she's off.

Is there anything sweeter?

bigmouths.

2011-11-10T14:24:00.000-08:00

Free entertainment. Do try this at home.

dance and discipline.

2011-11-09T16:21:00.000-08:00

Iggy's been to about 8 or so ballet classes at this point. He still asks me if it's Wednesday every morning because he's so excited to go.

Once he became comfortable with his teacher, Miss Annie, he stopped listening to her directions. He was constantly hanging off of the dance bars. Or running away from their sitting circle. Or just generally being an obnoxious three-year-old. Strangely, his behavior at home has improved immensely. Sort-of like his rebellious spunk was spread thin, coating more recipients.

Today as I watched him, I felt hope for him in both arenas. Miss Annie noted that he'd improved immensely since last week. And although he spent much of the time making up his own dance moves instead of joining in with the others, he worked within their circle and followed most of the basic instructions. I've noticed that he wants to do more leaping or strength exercises and less fru-fru posing. I'm totally OK with that. Especially since we've worried, just a little, that we might be setting him up to be teased by other boys. In the picture below, he was watching himself do giant jumps in the mirror.

They were sized for their costumes today. Their Nutcracker performance is coming and I am thrilled, to say the least. What a wonderful world we live in! There are so many enriching endeavors available for our children's benefit! I am thankful for the refining process of learning a new skill. I am thankful that offering him a challenge has been so instrumental in correcting behavior issues. Some of the other methods we've tried for correcting behavior have been infinitely less fun for both of us.

What a little stud.

the walk to and from dance class.

2011-11-09T16:06:00.000-08:00

Since Duke and Fitz spent the morning at the doctor's office with the car (see previous post) the other three hoodlums and I walked to dance class together. I was thankful for the excuse to enjoy the brisk, fall day. I liked the pictures so much, I thought I'd share a few. And that is all I have to say about that.

come in for a visit.

2011-11-09T14:49:00.000-08:00

First off, Megamind will probably be playing on the computer.

When you come over, you'll find that sister (who I've decided to call "Moe" for blogging purposes) will have been dressed by Iggy. He chooses what she will wear each day. It all started a few weeks back when I was doing laundry in the garage. I'd latched the lock on our bedroom door with the baby inside, just to be safe, but when I walked into our back door I heard her crying quite loudly. I found her laying in the middle of our bed, in only her diaper, which was not a happy sight considering I left her in her bassinet fully clothed. Iggy came running in with the pair of her tights that he intended to squeeze her into. He was shocked to see me. So, after having one of our many "she-is-a-real-person" discussions, we made a deal that he could be her personal stylist so long as I was present to be his helper. He loves her like crazy, and shows it in exactly his way.

When you come over Sparky will probably be holding Moe. Or kissing Moe. Or cooing at Moe.

He'll be the first to volunteer for any baby-related duty. He'll hold a bottle. He'll get a fresh diaper and carry off the used one to the garbage. You'll have to wrestle her away from him. I laugh when he talks to her because he uses the same voice inflection and phrases as I do. It's like hearing a recording of myself played in a higher register. "Hi. Hello. Hey, baby girl. How's my darling? Awe look at you, sweetie girl!" Yes, like Iggy, Sparky loves our little baby. And he shows it in his way.

When you come over, Fitz will provide the entertainment. He's taken a blind leap into the terrible twos (which I've found actually start much sooner than their second birthday). He's been making messes to top his brothers before him. Messes with my stuff. Messes with daddy's stuff. Messes with his own poop. You name it, really.

He's seemed a little indifferent to Moe since the initial excitement of her arrival is winding down. I think he might be a little bit busy in his pursuit of mayhem. We've been calling him "Minion" and giving him the compliment "you fantastic fish, you." (That's a Megamind reference. You know, that movie that we watch every day.) To him, I think she's about the most boring toy he's ever seen.

A baby doll that he's not allowed to pick up.

But when he thinks no one is watching, he'll give her a little smooch. If we put all the boys into the car but leave her in the house, saving her for last, Fitz will yell her name over and over until she's secured in her proper place. The second she makes a tiny peep after a snooze, he comes to me and tells me I'd better go take care of her. Then, while I'm taking care of her, he empties the garbage out all over the carpet. Yes, he too loves tiny baby in a way that is entirely his.

This morning he slipped in the bathroom and bit through his lip (see owie above). Luckily Duke was only one foot out the door for work so he took him in. No stitches necessary. But don't worry, I'm sure he'll successfully manage a few within the next few months of perpetual chaos. I'm actually really glad for this crazy time with him. I feel like it's his turn. I feel like this phase helps me to spend the time with him that he needs right now. I feel like being a middle child and youngest right before a first girl would really stink. Now let's see if I can keep this good attitude when he dishes out some really awful twoishness.

Depending on the time of day you come I'll be serving breakfast. Or lunch or dinner. Or I'll be cleaning up after breakfast. Or lunch or dinner. Or I might possibly nursing or pumping. Basically, I will be making sure my family is fed. You can bet on that. Life is one blissful routine and I am sublimely happy with that (for the moment). I'm planning to enjoy the peace before the inevitable, unsettled yearning for change hits me. At which point I will probably try to take up some sort of hobby that will become miserably frustrating for me because I have no time for it. Then I will have a nervous breakdown. Then I will restructure my life to focus on the most important things. And I will again establish peace in our home as I nurture my children with all my heart. Michael Finnegan-begin-again.

Oh, one more thing. If, while you're visiting, you happen to ask me what's on my mind, I will probably mention my gratitude for the outpouring of love from friends, family and fellow bloggers on us since Moe was born. We have been touched by the many thoughtful gifts, and extremely remiss in our expression of thanks through cards. I promise we've not forgotten and we feel both blessed and humbled.

I know I've just invited you for a visit, but in a way, you've already had one!

Thanks for coming by, dear friends and family.

Much love,
Megan Marie

the bowling alley.

2011-11-07T09:26:00.000-08:00

incredibly magical. but sort-of like taking your toddlers clubbing.

black lights. loud music. a ton of confusion and yelling at point-blank range.

there were so many families there for their saturday evening outing. and also, unattended cups of beer everywhere.

we sort-of had our own, little bubble at our lane- with totally awesome bumpers and a ramp for the boys' benefit.

there was the perfect dance floor in the vacant lane next-door.

WARNING! the music on the video starts out a little loud (to lend to the club atmosphere) so you might want to turn your volume down a little if you watch. especially if you've been sitting quietly by yourself for a while. or if you have a napping baby in your arms.

duke and i cringed just a little when we heard lyrics like "i wanna make love in this club" while we watched our sublimely innocent babies shake their little bodies.

someone who remembered me from my high school was partying there with a big group of buds. he came over to say hello and was surprised when i introduced my husband and FOUR kiddos. the bowling alley really is a place where people from all walks of life collide.

just an observation, really.

my rookie mom day.

2011-11-02T14:28:00.000-07:00

I woke up sweaty. I've been waking up sweaty a lot, which is just part of falling asleep with a nursing baby cuddled up to your body. Most days I can pop a movie on for the bigger boys, lock the baby in my room for safety, and drag Fitz into the shower with me, emerging fresh and ready for a peppy day. I woke up late. I've been waking up late a lot, which is part of staying up too late to soak in the grown-up, post-dinner dinner party. Yes, we've been eating two dinners a night. No, it hasn't been good for our self-esteem.

Anyway, I got ready make-up and all. Whenever I am gross and I try to cover it up like that, I feel like a total phoney all day long. Like, "I'm obviously a tired mom, I should just embrace it. I wish I was wearing sweat pants right now." So you can imagine my mood as I entered the ballet studio late with a haphazardly dressed dance student and his rowdy fan club. I spent the entirety of his lesson hiding in an empty classroom while I nursed baby, yelled at her brothers for touching things, and listened to the dance instructor's voice constantly reprimanding Iggy in the other room.

If that wasn't enough. Dentist appointments, anyone? All three boys? Let's do it. Again, I nursed darling baby, this time in the car. I made the rookie mistake of letting all of the kids out of their car-seats first. They emptied the contents of the diaper bag all over the place. Fitz found the toothpaste and brushes that I brought along to use right before entering the dentist. (I wonder if that last brush actually fools the hygienist into thinking you're a diligent enforcer of oral hygiene.) With the toothpaste and brushes Fitz decided to wash the car windows. Iggy got his fingers caught in the consul between the front seats. Sparky fell from the top of the back seat to the floor and hit his head. They all changed every dial in the car. And I sputtered empty threats, firmly planted in my seat. Nursing. Man, I love that I can nurse but it has been a big trial this time around.

My kids are really good at calling my bluffs. I'm pretty sure that the rookiest mom mistake of all is issuing an empty threat. They know if I have no intention of turning the car around. They know if I want to be on the play-date so badly that I'll not leave until the other moms leave. They know that I won't tell the dentist that they aren't allowed to have a sticker. They were pretty rotten, but they still all got those sticky-rope toys that are perfect for flicking each other.

For the most part I am really enjoying my children these days. But today I woke up sweaty and I wanted to blog like it. I couldn't possibly blog like I had it all together. I have my figurative sweats on today.

And now that I have gotten that out of my system, I can go on gushing about my adorable babies and positive outlook. I can reflect on the day and laugh at things. Like the top picture of Fitz. I think he tried to give himself eyebrows while we were waiting in the car. He's been pointing out everybody's eyebrows lately and he saw me pencil mine this morning. Heavens, he makes me smile.

Attitude officially adjusted.

The "trick-or-treating" experience.

2011-11-01T14:09:00.000-07:00

How would you explain "trick-or-treating" to someone who has never been?

Would you talk about the smell of wet leaves and clean, autumn air?

Would you try to describe the colors of the darkening evening, broken up and enhanced by the city lights?

Could you explain the thrill of passing headlights and a feeling of getting away with something sneaky?

Gathering free candy! Out past bedtime! Playing a part in a favorite costume!

Maybe you'd mention the patient enthusiasm that builds inside while waiting for the strange, front door to open.

What sort-of treats will they have?

Will something scary pop out at me?

Should I stand in the front of the crowd where I'll be first to get sweets, or in the back with the parents where I'm less likely to be startled?

If you were to try and explain this iconic, childhood experience, would you mention the mounting excitement as your bag filled with skittles and your plans to promptly trade all your snickers away? The rating of candy on a scale of gross to yum is really such a personal topic.

My thinking, in all of this, is that the only way to offer any naive soul a true knowledge of "tick-or-treating" is to march them down a suburban street on Halloween.

Although they've experienced a few Halloween parties, this year was a first for our children.

Now they've walked for themselves that exciting, creepy trek through the dark. They were entirely enchanted.

By the time we returned to Great-Grandpa's they were quite worn and ready to slumber (the sugar-low may have been a factor).

I hope your Halloween experience this year was magical and memorable.

In on the fun.

2011-11-01T13:56:00.000-07:00

Today I had a BIG realization. GIGANTIC, really...

I will always be helping the kids clean up ridiculous messes, so why not get in on the fun of making them?

Today we used up most of a bundle of yarn making "lasers" through the whole living room that we then had to climb through without getting burned.

After that we cut all the string into tiny pieces together. Fun with scissors! And I wasn't mad about it because I was in on it!

My favorite of today's mischief would have to be when we hung a balloon from the ceiling so that we could jump off the couch to kick it, landing in a soft mound of every-blanket-in-the-house (that I didn't even mind folding this time).

I highly recommend finding out why your kids would be willing to risk having you yell at them for making a mess, and then getting in on the fun.

dress rehersal, and our first full family photo.

2011-10-28T12:27:00.000-07:00

We were going to be the X-men. But matching jumpsuits were going to be too hard to find and most likely beyond our budget. So instead (with a lot of help from Grandpa) we did some creative scrounging and came out as lost boys/vikings/barbarians.

Their leggings are old car seat covers.

I'm particularly proud of Sparky's chest-plate which he designed (drawing me a picture of what he wanted) and I put together.

I'm also super stoked about Iggy's once-feather-duster-now-awesome-CROWN.

Duke made his rad lobster-claw necklace.

How about this hand-made leather vest for little Fitz? That was me! I made that! (Can you tell I'm pretty pleased with myself?)

His hat was from more of the seat-cover scraps.

My dress is a family treasure, made for me by my mom when I was very young. We once frequented Mountain Men Rondezvous (at the urging of my enthusiastic survivalist, little brother, Joey.) Man, I come from the coolest family. Oh, how I love them, especially for their eccentricities.

Grandpa made Dukes hat, and the rest of his costume came from our garage full of collected costumes.

Little miss wore her fall snugly, a gift from Auntie Donna, with a tiny bit of added flair.

This is our special spot. We go here together often. Every time is a lot of work (long walk to and from cars, kids trying to get in the water, kids taking off layers of clothing and handing them to us like we're pack-horses, boys almost hitting each other with giant rocks when their aim is off). Every time. But I like to imagine that some day we'll have gone there so often that they'll run knowingly through the trails to our spot without whining about the distance. They'll know exactly where the best blackberry bushes are and they'll be tall enough to reach the best berries. They'll be able swimmers so we might even let them wade a little. And their aim with skipping stones will have improved.

Of course, they'll likely be getting themselves into all sorts of new and exciting trouble that I haven't even imagined yet. But we'll deal with that when we come to it.

With toddlers along for the ride, even the most peaceful oasis can quickly become stress-central. Even stressful enough to make a couple of usually level-headed parents ask, "Why are we doing all of this?" There is a story that, as I have applied it to my current situation, has taught me much of patience and diligence in doing things with and for our children. Find it here.

We'll take the gold flecks we find in the rocks and build our collection of shining, family joy.

PS- Our costume inspiration.

An adventure in a bag.

2011-10-26T15:24:00.000-07:00

Since I had my wisdom teeth out yesterday, Duke is off of work for a short while to take care of us all. While he took Iggy to his ballet class this morning I had the chance to pack and adventure bag for the boys.

Adventure bag contents:
1. a picnic lunch
2. extra bread for the ducks
3. a photo scavenger hunt list and camera

It was so nice to have a few hours to relax while they were out.

And they returned with wonderful photographs from their hunt to share with me.

(Sister would like throwing rocks in water.)

(Don't ask me why he does that. But it's pretty hilarious.)

(They're thankful for the world.)

What a very very good day it's been.

And to top it off, my mom just brought me a Jamba Juice. Yes!

Hungry girls.

2011-10-26T14:30:00.000-07:00

We might possibly get that super-chubby-baby we've always dreamed about. She eats like she's a contestant in a pie-eating contest, only she's not eating pie and there are fewer spectators.

I feel as if I haven't been full in weeks. It's actually been pretty miserable. Soon after she was born I came down with a pretty severe case of mastitis and I was put on antibiotics. These particular pills had to be taken four times a day and always on an empty stomach. So when my nursing body cried out for food at odd times, I just moped. For ten days.

Yesterday I had my wisdom teeth out (OUCH). A cool liquid and soft food diet is the pits. I want something hot and savory in the worst way, especially after all this yogurt and pudding and instant breakfast.

I think I might just cook a whole Turkey and eat it by myself as soon as I can chew.

nerdy excited.

2011-10-24T09:12:00.000-07:00

This weekend my lovely sisters from church threw a party to welcome our baby girl to the world!

What a blessing it was for our family! I was so incredibly excited. Nerdy excited. I had to laugh when I looked through the pictures from the shower and realized that, along with nursing a baby in front of everyone, I'd made total goober faces while I was opening gifts.

Good thing she was adorable enough for the both of us. Have I bragged lately about how beautiful she is?

I love having a community of women who love me. My mom, auntie, and sisters, and the wonderful friends in the women's organization that I so treasure; The Relief Society. These women give of themselves so willingly. I hope to follow their sweet examples and pay it forward through my life to those women who need me.

At the next baby shower I'll be glad to be behind the camera, witnessing such nerdy excitement on the face of another lady.

can I be close to you?

2011-10-20T13:19:00.000-07:00

Basically. I'm a mess.

My brain is filled with a lot of busy ramblings. And him. I've made you the following visual...

Last night he set a blanket out in the living room and we drank hot chocolate and listened to BLOOM by The Paper Kites over and over again. I highly recommend listening with your love. Brush your teeth first.

Today I am living in a memory of playing Cowboys and Indians together.

Jeez, I'm in love with my best friend. We've both had a rough week of it, and an even rougher day, but I know we'll be together soon enough.

He is mine and all is well.

fall scavenger hunt.

2011-10-18T13:07:00.000-07:00

Here's what you do...

1. Make a list of fall things you are likely to see outside. Red leaf. Carved pumpkin. Spider web. Black cat. Someone raking. Scary ghost decorations.
2. Go on a walk or bike ride. Bring your list and a pen to mark the items off as you find them.

Not that I actually did that. Getting four kids fed, dressed, and out the door was quite enough for me. But as I walked I thought, "Man, we should have done a scavenger hunt today!" Maybe tomorrow.

I love the following picture of their total awe in finding a cat with no tail.

My stars, life is good. Tiring but good.

a few favorites from yesterday.

2011-10-18T13:02:00.000-07:00

I think he sort-of loves her a lot.

sweets.

2011-10-18T12:51:00.000-07:00

Fall sweets are going to be the death of me.

And all of the lovely friends and family that keep bringing them by are killing me softly.

Not a bad way to go.

Can you believe my brother and his wife went to an orchard and picked apples, then spun the simple fruit into this splendor? Magic and, I'm sure, much stickiness. Plus it was my brother Joe's birthday. He brought us treats on his birthday.

What talented and giving people I have in my life! Their thoughtfulness is like sweets for the soul.

I have one, very chubby soul.

wake up.

2011-10-17T08:50:00.001-07:00

Had to share this song and video my little sister came across the other day.

I'm pretty sure this changed our minds about what we were going to be for Halloween.

Here's hoping you wake up to the sound of your fleeting heart and live a little today.

Primary.

2011-10-16T15:50:00.000-07:00

If I claimed that I desperately missed being Primary president, I'd be fibbing. But I'd also be telling a white lie if I said I wasn't a bit sad to go.

Today was the Primary program (when the children 3-11 all sing and speak in church) and it was delightful to just be a mom. It was my oldest son's first program and I was tickled to sit with the congregation and be incredibly proud of my baby instead of crouching on the stand holding a flip-chart with who's-up-next pictures and basically missing the event due to extreme stress.

Since the two things that I am going to miss most are 1. the hilarious things the kids tell me each Sunday and 2. coming home from church with a stack of gifted artwork, it's appropriate that the children said their goodbyes through sweet drawings. They didn't disappoint in the comedy department. I simply must share a few (with my last name blacked-out).

Most were sweet and darling like this...

I loved this beauty. Check out the first full sentence.

If it doesn't work out, we'll just call the gypsies.

I'm assuming the following note was in reference to child-birth?

And finally. Unsigned...

Good thing I've got a house full of children of my own to tell me sweet things, make me laugh, and even occasionally call me a cow.

And good thing I've got a cute baby to bring to each Sunday to attract all the children I so dearly love for short visits after church.

Simple halloween home ideas.

2011-10-15T15:03:00.000-07:00

This family of ours adores construction paper.

Pumpkins: construction paper. Stems: card stock. Leaves: wired fabric leaves from a floral department. Curls: plastic ribbon.

Spiders: construction paper. Eyes: purple sequins.

Bats: constriction paper. Eyes: gold beads.

Window creatures: construction paper and a family creativity session.

These darling ghosts were a spooky gift from our wonderful friends. What a great idea, don't you think? Ghosts: milk jugs with permanent marker faces. Lights: white string lights.

Those were the simple ideas. That's about as much as I can muster this year. In past years I've been much more ambitious and I'd love to share a couple of projects again, just in case someone who's reading this has Halloween hysteria.

Bat Display Tutorial: HERE. (My definition of what is 'simple' has really changed over the past couple of years.)

Spooky Photo Display Tutorial: HERE. (The kids adore the finished product.)

Happy decorating!

soul to soul.

2011-10-12T15:11:00.000-07:00

To ensure general understanding of the experiences I'm hoping to relate, I should probably explain a couple of things I believe- principles and values that guide my thinking...

1. I believe that we each have a spirit, divinely created and completely unique. I believe that our spirits existed before we came to live on earth. That we lived together with Heavenly Father. That we were cognitive. That we learned and progressed. That we could make decisions. I believe that we were extended an opportunity to come into this world, to receive bodies, to be tried and tested and to further our educations through life-experience. And I believe that every spirit born into this world took that opportunity.

2. I believe that each of us, as part of our educational experience, has a veil drawn over our memory of this preexistence. I don't know when we forget it. Maybe before birth. Maybe at birth. Maybe just a little bit later. At some point, after our spirits leave this world, I think we will remember it all.

So, in psychology terms, I believe in both nature and nurture. I believe we come with a spirit- a developed personality, likes and dislikes, goals and dreams. But we must start from the ground up- rediscovering who we are while changing, learning, and growing through the challenges and joys this life has to offer.

Sometimes I look at my babies and I wonder if the memory of that spirit life lingers. I wonder if they miss being in the presence of God. I wonder if their body feels like a space-suit that they can hardly control. Maybe they are starting to grasp the gravity of the situation- they might be thinking that this is not what they signed up for. Bodies are weird. Bodies do weird things. It's all a lot to get used to, I bet, whether there's a developed soul with a memory inside that body or not.

Experience #1. My second child was just born. (you know, Iggy?) I had been up with him all night as he cried and cried. I was so sleep deprived and frustrated and at a complete loss as to what would help. I held him in my arms and prayed that I might understand him and his need. Immediately I doubled over in pain with a stomach ache and I had to lay him in his crib so that I could lay down myself. I turned to my left side and the pain subsided. Understanding washed over me as I walked back to the crib. I picked him up and held him so that he lay on his left and he his crying ceased completely. I was thankful then for prayer and the help that comes. I can't even count the number of prayers I've had answered in similar ways.

I looked at him, in his eyes and felt our spirits connect. I feel that I was blessed with more understanding of him and his needs. I just knew, as if he'd told me without words, that he had been waiting a very long time to come here. He had wanted a body for all the remarkable things he knew bodies could do. He had big plans for himself. He had not expected to have so much trouble seeing and moving. The disappointments of this life were real to him and he was going to need a lot of help and encouragement.

I understood then a pre-mortally developed character trait that has been apparent since. He screamed and whined and grunted in frustration as he learned to crawl. To this day he becomes extremely discouraged when he isn't immediately able to preform a task. He still has those big plans of his, although he doesn't remember what they are. I'm sure he'll discover them again. And I'll do my best to help him through the journey.

Experience #2. She is almost a week old. I have been so excited to have a sweet, baby girl. I've seen so many lovely photographs of baby girls and today I planned to try and re-create with my bundle, photos I'd seen of other bundles. I put us both through a heck-of-a-time trying to get the lighting right, and the headband positioned, and her face expression serene. Mostly she just wanted to nurse. Her face is always just right when she nurses, but who really wants to see a picture of a baby with a boob in its mouth? We tried and tried to get those winning shots I so coveted, but it was not working out. So I decided to give it up, sit and nurse, and just goof around with the camera a bit. She was ready to sleep after a little while, and I was anxious to load and edit photos before dad came back from mini-golf with her brothers. I dressed her and bundled her up. She sighed her happy sigh.

And for the first time, she looked at me. Really looked at me. With our eyes locked, again, I felt that connection of spirits. We were on the same page for just a moment and I felt her spirit as if it was asking me, "Can you love me like I am? Can I just be myself and not try to be like the other girls you've seen? I'm not happy like that. I want to be me. Am I special enough to you the way I am?" I was surprised at what I felt. I don't want to be that mom. Seriously, I've only had a daughter for six days and already we're doing the toddlers and tiaras thing? "Yes!" I answered her out loud.

I have not really had time to process the experience. And perhaps it was nothing but a guilty conscience, but it was what I needed to know and feel. Maybe it was a glimpse into our life together. Maybe, like my experience with her older brother, time will tell this story as a true desire of her heart. Whatever the case, the inspiration is good and I'm glad for the moment we shared.

As I went through the photographs, my favorites were the sincere, happy, content pictures of her in my lap, or nursing, or just being a sweet baby. Not all fashioned up or posed. And that's that.

Carmen Miranda.

2011-10-12T14:38:00.000-07:00

Last night Duke goofed around with his guitar while I hot-glue-gunned like a mad woman, making all sorts of baby bands and bows.

I couldn't help thinking of a comparison made by one of my favorite orators in a recent address:

"An acceptable sacrifice is when we give up something good for something of far greater worth. Giving up a little sleep to help a child who is having a nightmare is a good sacrifice. We all know this. Staying up all night, jeopardizing our own health, to make the perfect accessory for a daughter’s Sunday outfit may not be such a good sacrifice."

Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf went on to say, "We can ask ourselves, 'Am I committing my time and energies to the things that matter most?' There are so many good things to do, but we can’t do all of them."

I thought of that quote, but I kept right on gluing.

Since morning Duke and I have been at odds. We're tired. The housework seems more of a chore than normal. Basically, I used precious time (that I should have spent sleeping or connecting with my husband) to turn my daughter into Carmen Miranda.

Only a more miserable version of Carmen Miranda. (More on that later.)

This afternoon Duke and I have been doing relationship damage control. He drew a heart on the fogged bathroom mirror. I saw it and wrote "U2." Then later he wrote more but I couldn't read his handwriting. I really am going to try to be better about choosing what I put on the front and back burners. The love pot needs a little heat, you know?

I no baby.

2011-10-12T14:12:00.000-07:00

Duke called to Fitz, "Come here, my baby." Fitz ran the other direction yelling, "I NO BABY!"

I think he may be a little conflicted though, because when he thinks no one is looking he keeps trying on his sister's accessories and sneaking into her bassinet for a little rock.

When he came to see us in the hospital he was mad at me. He wouldn't let me hold him. He even walked right up to me, hit me, and then walked away. We had been spending a lot of quality time together and then I up-and-disappeared. He's not mad anymore though. He's a forgiving kind of a person (good thing, too, considering what his brothers put him through).

He hasn't taken any of his frustration out on the baby. He ignored her a little at first but now he's right in the thick of the (frequent) fights over who gets to hold her first.

Earlier today he saw me setting up a little scene for a baby photo and he sat right down in the middle of it and said, "cheese." I know that as we work hard to make individual time for each of our sweeties, they will grow in self-confidence and happiness. I also know that sharing us with their siblings will necessitate their becoming more loving, considerate, and patient. All good things.

"I NO BABY!" He yelled. "You will always be my baby" Duke replied.

PS- You notice how Fitz has negative sideburns? We've been waiting for him to get hair on the front sides but it's just not coming! Anyway, during church we witnessed him pinching little tufts of hair and yanking them out. Funny kid.

collecting.

2011-10-11T12:43:00.000-07:00

I've never really thought of myself as a collector. Well. Um. I'm ready to admit that we're collecting children.

It's becoming quite a hobby. (Is that blasphemous?) They are so precious and unique. Treasures, really.

And as tired as they make us feel, we just can't seem to quit.

Duke is pretty sure our collection is complete. Especially now that we've got that illusive female specimen.

Me, well, I'm not so sure. I think I have a problem. People are not supposed to want to have another baby this soon after birthing.

I just love them so much. I feel a little crazy, even. Like that eharmony cat lady, only about my kids.

Sharing this information, my friends, makes me feel vulnerable and ridiculous; human frailty exposed. But here I go pressing "publish post" anyway.

kid games.

2011-10-11T12:30:00.000-07:00

Remember picking Hi Ho Cherry-Os, feeding those Hungry Hippos, and visiting Queen Frostine of Candyland?

Although we've none of those great classics in our collection yet, we've found a modern-day winner. I imagine the boys will have many fond memories of building and smashing game pieces.

What are your favorite family games, old and new? (For the Christmas list.)

peace and quiet?

2011-10-10T16:33:00.000-07:00

Grandpa, you're so funny. That was really funny, grandpa. Haha, we're laughing. A drum set. Really? A DRUM SET? Delivered the day we bring the baby home from the hospital?

Oh, grandpa. You know what, though? She doesn't even seem to notice. And the boys LOVE it. I guess I'm coming around, especially after the stellar jam-session we had yesterday. They made some beautiful piano-drum-rainstick-guitar-music for baby while she was eating.

Ok, grandpa. Really, I owe you thanks. Thank you for helping me to remember that life doesn't have to be so serious all the time. Thank you for loving your grandchildren sooooo darn much that you can't help spoiling them just a little. Thank you for being my dad and teaching me to be fun and silly just like you, because I like that about us. I'll try not to forget, during this very grown-up time of my life, to be a kid-at-heart.

Peace? Inner peace. Quiet? Who are we kidding? It's about time everyone heard and accepted our commonly-used, family disclaimer; we are THE LOUD FAMILY.

a dream.

2011-10-10T16:22:00.000-07:00

Is this for real?

7 lbs 1 ounce. 21 inches long. Sensationally darling.

Duke, you and I and Heavenly Father... We make a really good team, don't you think?

Here's to dreams come true.

a cherry on top.

2011-10-07T23:18:00.001-07:00

Big eyes. Beautiful skin. Adorable dimple. Happy girl.

There's just one thing missing in the above photos...

So Duke and I spent our hospital evening side-by-side tying sweet, little bows. He loves this baby enough to do crafts for her. (That's a lot.)

Much better.

Or did we go overboard?

Question. How do you make them stick?

The first of many memories.

2011-10-06T20:20:00.000-07:00

She's here! She. My goodness, I didn't think we knew how to make girls. Wanna hear the story? (NOT about us making her. The other story.)

She's having her hearing tested right now so I keep glancing at the door, waiting for the nurse to bring her back. Wow, it's making me anxious!

Anyway, we came to the hospital at 7:00 am to be induced and it took a bit to get all the monitors set and paperwork filled out, so the actual induction started after 8:00 with the manual breaking of my water. I was dilated to a two. From there I labored pretty naturally with a tiny drip of pitocin. At 10:30 am it was getting pretty painful so I was administered an epidural. Right after the epidural I was checked and dilated to a four.

Where is that nurse with my baby? I don't like when they take my babies.

Back to the story. The epidural only worked on one side, my right. It was to be expected since that has happened with each of my labors because I have spini bifida occulta (which basically means that my spine's anatomy is a little abnormal). So, I figured I would have time to lay on my left side and let gravity fix the problem like I have with each of my labors. I was wrong.

By 11:00 am I was sort-of freaking out and asking for the epidural guy because I could feel EVERYTHING on the left side of my body. He was so busy, and I had only been dilated to a four, so it took him a while to come. It took him too long. Shortly after he came in I was yelling, "pressure! PRESSURE! The baby is coming!" It was the weirdest, most incredibly painful experience having a natural childbirth on one side and not being able to feel the other.

I tried my hardest not to push as the nurse checked me- AWE, my nurse just brought her back, hooray! I feel better now- So the former mentioned nurse checked me and said, "whoa, you're fully ready. Baby's at a +1!" Whatever that means. She told me not to push because my doctor had to run over from the office. Thankfully he came fast because I was whimpering like a puppy. Duke held my hand and brought me back from that dark, scary pain. "Look at me," he said, and I opened my clenched eyes to feel such great peace at the sight of his face.

Sweet joy when they told me to go ahead and push! One contraction and applause from the peanut gallery. Two contractions. I could feel the baby leaving. I'd never felt that before. Not that way. This part is a blur. I saw... Duke with scissors. My body shaking uncontrollably. Pink baby. Girl anatomy. What? Girl? They flopped her on my chest and I tried to control my chattering teeth. I couldn't.

I said, "I feel useless, I can't control my shaking body!" The nurses calmed me by telling me that what she needed from me now was the warmth and that I was providing abundantly. I couldn't even look at her, I was shaking so badly. My chattering teeth impaired my vision. Duke comforted me and assured me she was perfect and lovely, and that I would see her soon.

Now I can see her. She is beautiful. She kind-of looks like our oldest son. She kind-of looks like her cousin, Ella. She mostly looks like her own person. I love her. I want her to awake so I can feed her and snuggle her and fall even more in love with her.

She nursed almost immediately. This is a baby who knows what she is doing. I can't help thinking about the special relationship we will have through our lives together. I think she is going to teach me a whole lot.

Duke took her from my quaking arms when I pleaded with him. I needed to compose myself. I needed the nurses to move my nearly useless, but delightfully warm body for me so that I could see her. I looked over to see a thoroughly enchanted father doting on his new daughter. Lucky lady.

He cradled her in his strong arms and I know she felt safe and happy. Her eyes opened wide and she took him in. I caught him quietly telling her, "you can have anything you want." This is a man who is completely wrapped around a tiny finger.

Since her birth we have had an adventure of a day. Visitors galore. Grandma Re, Aunt Katie, and Papa via skype. Great-grandpa. Grandma and Grandpa. Aunties Tamsin and Emily. Uncle Brenny. Uncle Joey, Aunt Brie, and Cousin Ella.

And the rowdiest crew of older brothers you've ever seen. My goodness, their visit was almost more tiring than giving birth! Those boys loved her. And they loved all the cupboards and outlets and cords. And they loved climbing all over my tender self.

Daddy took them home for the night, and as much as I miss my males, I'm thoroughly enjoying my equivalent to a spa retreat with my new best girl.

She must be so very tired. I think I will take advantage of her sleepiness and get in a little nap of my own.

Could there be any greater blessing on this earth than a family?

I am endlessly thankful for our own growing family and the sweet spirits that have come to us. Baby girl, your sweet daddy and I feel honored, privileged, and humbled to be your parents. the last 10 hours with you in our world have been marvelous, and we're simply ecstatic to share forever more.

Tomorrow's forecast.

2011-10-05T11:53:00.000-07:00

Each time we've had a baby, we've seen falling snow from our hospital window. Idaho February. Idaho June. Oregon December.

Tomorrow's forecast... BABY! I don't really know about the weather.

Happily, we're being induced. I can hardly walk for the shooting pains from pinched sciatic nerves. The doctor says that although I am not progressing at all in my labor and dilation, the baby is as low as possible and smashing me, causing all sorts of issues. Poor kid, I can only imagine how squashed he/she must feel!

The boys say with their words that they are thrilled and excited for their brother or sister. The boys say with their actions that they are nervous about their positions in the family. All day today we've been on the rivalry train. Usually they have so much love and concern for one another. Today we've had punching, tackling, one bloody lip, and a gazillion time-outs.

Yesterday in the car their fists started finding one another so we had to stop and take a breather. Happily we were close to the Portland LDS Temple and it was exactly the stop we needed. The peace there was so powerful that they immediately started speaking kindly and hugging one another. Once, in Idaho, we lived almost next door to a beautiful temple. I miss it. Yesterday, as we were driving away from the temple, the baby in my stomach started freaking out, almost like it wanted to jump out of me and stay there.

I can't say I blame the little darling. Hopefully we can offer such peace in our home...

But with all these boys (and soon-to-be sleep-deprived parents), it'll be easier dreamed than actualized.

We'll try our best, tiny one. Promise.

See you tomorrow, dear baby.

ushering in fall with friends from afar.

2011-10-03T17:31:00.000-07:00

My sweet Choody and Stooph came to town for a split second of a day. They came bearing pumpkins to adorn our porch.

Oh, I wish they lived closer. Choody is a California girl. Stooph hails from Utah. I also wish I would have had a sweet, little baby for them to meet.

Choody spent the night, just her, no kids (she has three). So we were able to sit up late and chat, like the old days only now we talk about husbands (not potential boyfriends) and children (not potentially dangerous shenanigans). We did facials and she even painted my toenails (yellow with orange dots) since I can't reach.

If only Laura had been in town from the spud state to sit on my steps and drink sonic slushies with us. I so love my dear, old friends (not OLD really, but we four have been friends for a long time, you see).

It's raining pennies from heaven these days. What marvelous blessings to behold all around us this fall (especially the company of those friends we hold dear). (And for parentheses, which I really like all of the sudden.)

best birthing gift ever.

2011-10-03T17:13:00.000-07:00

My friend Crystal (remember Crystal?) is one of the most thoughtful and creative people I know. She brought by a darling kit for me, knowing that the baby will be here soon. What sweet encouragement and love it engendered!
Contents (inside the most darling, decorated envelope):
1. receiving blanket
2. color crayons
3. drawing paper, some blank and some started with charming paint colors
4. an invitation to draw

The package went straight into my hospital bag.

It just so happens that I was painting when she came by. You know, I really need this baby to come so that I can feel inspired to create something other than flowers and squares of color. Can't wait to see what sorts of drawings come while I am in labor or after the baby arrives!

I am so thankful for friends whose love sustains me through these last days before the baby comes. And for artistic endeavors to redirect anxious energy!

a love letter.

2011-09-29T16:37:00.000-07:00

Son,

We love you so.

We love the baby you've been and the boy you are becoming.

Son, we can't help but pat your fluffy, red hair when you walk by.

The face expressions you make are just too much. Sometimes we laugh. Sometimes we rush to comfort you. Mostly we swoon.

You want to be like your brothers, we know. And you are like them. But you are also so very special and unique. You are one of a kind, young one.

We're treasuring these fleeting moments. Holding your hand. Snuggling you tight in our arms. Rocking you. We know you can't possibly stay this little forever.

If only we could save a few of these days in the deep-freeze to pull out for our comfort on your first day of high-school, the day you leave home, your wedding day.

For now we will hold your little body in our loving arms and cherish every swing of your sleeping legs.

Oh, son. We are so happy to be your parents.

With Love,
Mom and Dad

walking the earth again.

2011-09-29T15:50:00.000-07:00

All too often I decide (usually on a whim) to park our car somewhere and take the kids on a ridiculously long walk. I don't plan ahead well enough to bring a stroller. Or a backpack. Or even a water bottle. Today my pockets were brimming with granola bars and I figured we'd come across a drinking fountain at some point, so we set off across my favorite foot-bridge.

I can't help thinking, just a little, about my world just a few years back, before the foot-bridge was paved and open to the public. Then, it was an unused rail-road bridge with barbed-wire fences blocking both ends. In my reckless youth, I climbed those fences, jumping from one wood-slat to the next for a bit of adventure.

Where once was a thrilling, forbidden gamble for footing, today we found solid, safe and welcome support for bodies, young and old.

When I was young, often found myself on uncertain footing. Now my world and my soul are generally more stable, predictable, and reliable. I like that a lot. I've been able to take down my barbed fences and invite people, young and old, into my life. And I can be there to support them in their journeys.

I've been reading a marvelous, new book called "Daughters in My Kingdom" which is a history of the women of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I've especially been enjoying the examples of women who have gotten their acts together during times of trial specifically in order to help the other women around them.

"It is my strongest desire that our young women of today be made to comprehend the work of the early members who, without the facilities of the present time, comforted the sad and distressed, visited the widow and fatherless, and were like ministering angels." -Emmeline B. Wells, 1914

As I've come, through reading, to better comprehend the examples of these remarkable women, I've wanted to do more and be more. I've wanted to be available to help others. I've wanted to be more available to my husband and children. I've wanted to give more of myself. It feels really good to start to think, "what can I give?" instead of my frequent, "what am I getting?"

On this footbridge without barbed fences, we met the cheeriest, magic bubble-man. The cargo he carried was an assortment of bubble wands. We could tell that he loved bubbles so much that he just had to share them!

The boys chased him over half of the expanse of the bridge. This man was my angel for the moment as we were on our ridiculously long trek back to the car and the kids were officially done walking. (Not even my best lecture about Pioneers crossing the plains could motivate them.) I really love this somewhat strange man and I hope for him countless blessings. I want to be just like him.

Reading good books and then walking around a lot seems to stimulate my mind in miraculous ways, filling my soul, filling my bucket so I can fill theirs. You would think I'd feel drained on this day that was supposed to be my baby's due date, as I feel no end coming. But I don't. I am full, mmm.

Evil mom laugh.

2011-09-28T13:42:00.000-07:00

Ancient history.

2011-09-28T06:23:00.000-07:00

Goodbye long study hours. Goodbye exam material. Goodbye spending too much money to sit and take a test all day. Goodbye waiting months on a very important letter.

Hello, Certified Public Accountant.

I couldn't be more proud of my accountant husband. He passed all four sections of his exam on the first try, that smarty pants. It only took a year of vigorous study. What a wonderful provider he is for our family.

Oh, how I love him.

Fall mushrooms. And when all I can do is laugh.

2011-09-26T14:44:00.000-07:00

My mushroom-cap hat is pretty much my favorite fall accessory ever. If you couldn't tell, the boys are also fans.

The following story has very little to do with the pictures. Except it happened on the same day (today) and it happened while these pictures were being loaded onto the computer...

So Iggy (pictured above) was in the bathroom going #2...

Then he runs into the living room and says, "Hey, mom. I was going poop and after I went poop I needed toilet paper to wipe my bum, but we didn't have any, so I think we need to go to the store."

Well, I recalled just putting out a fresh roll. And Iggy was soaking wet. Fishy?

I went into the bathroom to find it flooded, with the toilet seat down. Inside was an obviously full roll crammed as far in as it would go.

Stinker. And his convincing stories? What are we going to do with him?

Also, he's on time-out. And he just yelled the following...

"Fine. When I get off time out I will bite you. And I will bite soap. And I will wash my mouth and I will be HAPPY. HAPPY! HAPPY!!!"

Some times all I can do is laugh. And marvel at the pictures from earlier in the day when they were actually being pleasant.

Now he's making a "beep" noise to try and trick me into thinking his timer went off.

I can't help but love that kid. Even when he wants to bite me.

a story about love.

2011-09-25T13:29:00.000-07:00

Friday morning I awoke to the sounds of their little feet running down the stairs. The boys snuggled their cold toes into our covers and rocked our bed around as their bodies wiggled with the excitement of a new day.

Duke said, "Well, I'd better get to work."

I cried.

He didn't notice as I cried into my pillow. I sobbed to myself while he took a shower. The boys, always very concerned when I cry, asked if I was sick. They hugged me and kissed my cheeks until I composed myself and went to make breakfast. I checked the mirror and still had puffy eyes, which I was hoping he might notice. (Women are strange like that.)

Duke continued to ready himself for the workday while I calmed down, and when he eventually came to kiss me goodbye I was oh, so cold to him. I am sure he was confused as he asked me if I was alright. I am sure he was even more confused when I burned my hand on a pot and instantly became a full blubbering mess.

I explained, the best I could, that I was lonely in a house full of people, that I couldn't face another day of routine and waiting for this baby to come, that I felt like he was miles away from me when we were sitting side-by-side.

Then I calmed down and said he should go back to work. He walked into our room for a moment, and returned saying, "Let's go to the beach. Today." When I started to protest he said, "What does work, or anything else, matter if you are not happy?"

And that is why I have total faith in the great possibility of happy marriages that last.

He knows I feel most loved when he spends quality time with me. I know he feels most loved when I tell him with tender words how I feel about him and when I hug and kiss him often. We each minister to the other's needs, loving one another the way that we feel love the most, even when it's a great sacrifice. And we are happy.

The beach was warm but foggy; so foggy that we couldn't see the ocean from the shore. I imagined we were on the coast of Ireland and that fishermen with their nets stood along the water's edge.

We marveled at the tiny wonders that unfolded before our eyes as we walked further into the mist and our vision permitted the new terrain.

My empty tank (and I imagine, the tanks of several, little boys) filled and filled. My cup runneth over.

I am so thankful for my marriage to a man to whom I can confide even my most irrational feelings.

I am so thankful for a family that, when all together, helps me put the pieces of myself in place so that I can function.

I am thankful that strained relationships can be healed time and time again.

I am so thankful for a loving Father in Heaven who gave us all a world of treasure at our fingertips, so long as we take the time to prioritize and sacrifice that we may see it clearly.

And I'm thankful for beach sand, even if it comes home with us like a stray dog.

Joyous day ahead.

2011-09-22T09:56:00.000-07:00

Duke is coming home in about a half an hour to take me to the beach.

My heart is doing a little dance.

Maybe you've seen this video already. I hadn't, until this morning, so I thought I'd pass it along. Maybe it makes you smile like it makes me smile.

Happy Thursday. I hope it's a joyous one.

December, 1963. Or rather, September, 2011.

2011-09-21T21:11:00.000-07:00

I tried singing "Oh, what a night" to my babies as we walked together through the park and they just stared at me with blank expressions. Deprived children. We will be having a dance party tomorrow morning.

I couldn't get the song out of my heart all night. The upbeat sound ringing in my mind had me running, really running through the park, belly and all.

(Don't you love the face that Fitz makes when he says "cheese?" Is he in pain? I can't tell.)

Music is magical. Speaking of magical, we saw the closest thing to fireflies us north westerners can come by; swarming gnats, back-lit in the dusk. We're simple folk, easily pleased.

What a night. Chocolate milk from the carton. Racing. Tag. Climbing trees.

I'm glad for these last of the beautifully warm evenings before the season of endlessly runny noses.

My (accountant) husband is already casually mentioning next tax season occasionally. I think we may need to make a rule censoring that topic. Too many good, fall things to spoil with worry over impending chaos and loneliness.

I just had to start "Oh, what a night" in my playlist again to stave off the blues.

Usually we spend our time escaping today's woe in our daydreams of better days ahead. Instead I'll escape from the pain of the future in the reality of now. Life is really good now. What a very special time for me.

Earth to baby.

2011-09-20T21:05:00.000-07:00

OK, little baby. So, It's completely up to you, but-no pressure-we are ready. You might like to know that your waiting family has the house prepared for you.

We've washed your bedding and organized all of your things.

There are fresh towels in the pantry and plenty of burp cloths.

And the rumors you may have heard about our bathroom/boy's locker room, well, your sweet daddy took care of it. It's sparkling, love.

Babysitters (and back-ups) are on call.

Hospital bag is packed.

We might even have a few names picked out, as options. But dad won't tell so don't even bother asking.

Since mom has been jumping on the trampoline and going for extended walks, but you still don't seem that interested in coming soon, we've even decided to liven up the house with welcoming decor.

And your brothers, to help you feel more at ease, have taken to running around in their "birthday suits." You need not worry about being under-dressed, dear one.

Like I wrote before, new baby, the decision is entirely yours.

Come when you feel ready. Feel ready soon, please?

We're excited, to say the least.

PS- I am loving this old post from right before we found out if our third baby was a boy or girl. The suspense is totally killing us this time; I don't think we could wait to find out the sex again! While shopping for decorations, I couldn't help picking up a little blue. But that may just be habit, who knows. Whatever you are, baby, we love you already.

Ballet.

2011-09-16T09:16:00.000-07:00

Duke and I couldn't stop smiling.

When all the little girls wanted to hold his hands, we couldn't stop smiling.

When he insisted on telling his teacher about his owie on his finger, we couldn't stop smiling.

When we witnessed his sheer delight, and knew that he was totally in his element, we couldn't stop smiling.

Even now I can't stop smiling.

old photos and the now.

2011-09-13T20:56:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else adore the flash-backs in movies and shows? I'm slightly obsessed with back-story, even my own.

Sometimes I get caught up looking through old photos and I discover (or rediscover) such tender mercies. What a marvelous thing it is that we start out so little, and get to be so grown-up. I love that we take our turns in each stage of life, hopefully enjoying what little time we have in that phase as we gradually move on.

What a sweet thing it is to look at our children and know that they came from us. I love noting the boys' deep, brown eyes, freckles, scrawny build or familiar chin. And what a sweet thing it is to see my lover's features in our babies, wherever his genes stepped in. The combination is perfect. I couldn't have designed them to be so perfect.

Sometimes I get caught up looking through old photos and I discover (or rediscover) the child I was. Then I laugh, because, for example, I had forgotten my deep love for Johnathan Taylor Thomas (or JTT, as you fellow fanatics will remember).

I see so many things that have changed (the fashions) and so many things that haven't (my generally free spirit and confidence- even slight cockiness). I love where I came from.

Sometimes I get caught up looking through old photos and I discover (or rediscover) how much I want my baby to be outside of my belly, not in it. I fall in love with my former freedom of movement and covet, horribly, the free me from not-so-long ago.

That's about when I need to stop looking at old photos.

"Learn from the past, prepare for the future, live in the present." -President Thomas S. Monson

Well, I've lived a full life to this point. I've got plenty of dreams to achieve, looking forward. And my present... I wouldn't want to wish away this dear, and oh, so brief season of largeness-for-the-sake-of-baby.

Things were lovely. They will be lovely. And they are pretty darn lovely now.

Harvest hats.

2011-09-13T03:55:00.000-07:00

We won a prize for these babies at our church's harvest soup party!

Never mind that we were the only ones who participated in the harvest-hat contest.

We're still pretty proud of ourselves.

might I suggest...

2011-09-13T03:43:00.000-07:00

Let's say it's around 5pm and your kids are melting.

Might I suggest you fill their bellies with something easy and jump right into the car.

Then head over to a local high school's track and field.

Make sure to explore the bleachers real good.

And don't forget to look for the things that people usually miss, like the troll prison under the black-top.

I highly recommend that you lay on the turf, even if your hair and clothes get covered in those little, black, plastic bead-things.

Warning; running around the track may cause extreme fatigue and a readiness for a prompt bed-time.

Oh, thank heavens for the wonders all around us. For the places, but especially the people, that give us hope at 5pm.

brightening my night.

2011-09-13T03:26:00.000-07:00

I've officially reached that point in pregnancy when I can no longer get any real sleep at night. So here I am at 3:28 am. Looking through pictures from the past week with my beautiful boys.

I am one, lucky duck.

smarty-pants.

2011-09-13T03:15:00.000-07:00

5 things I like about our home preschool...

1. Every morning Sparky wakes up with an extra pep and excitement.
2. Lesson planning is a grants a great opportunity to be creative and innovative.

3. We make messes (like taking apart the piano to see how it works), all in the name of discovery.
4. I've been motivated to wake up earlier and be more efficient in my other responsibilities.

5. The one-on-one time with my rapidly-growing oldest is priceless. He'll be on to kindergarten next year, so I'm just soaking him in while I have him all to myself.

button-popping.

2011-09-11T17:43:00.000-07:00

My brain at night feels like the belly of my scout shirt.

Stretched.

I'm keeping all of my responsibilities together, but just barely.

Hoping my naked belly doesn't pop out anytime soon.

Charlie.

2011-09-09T16:52:00.000-07:00

This is Charlie. Sparky says she's a girl. Iggy says he's a boy. Fitz just pokes Charlie in the eyes a lot. We're practicing. (Duke reminded me that the doll is a pretty accurate representation of our coming bundle. It will probably be bald. And it will be wearing blue without regard to its sex, since that's what we have.)

Iggy is both very sweet to and VERY possessive of Charlie. He insists we take him along everywhere we go.

Sparky is mini-mom. He sings to her.

I caught Fitz feeding Charlie blueberry yogurt. He gives Charlie the best kisses.

The new baby has a lot to look forward to, coming into a family with such loving big brothers...

and maybe a little bit to worry about.

foot-in-mouth.

2011-09-07T15:58:00.000-07:00

These photos, taken seven years ago, just surfaced from a film roll belonging to a good friend of our past and fellow photographer, Steven. Want to hear a foot-in-mouth conversation that resulted from their appearance on facebook?

Keep in mind that my husband...

1. never fails to say something stupid when I am 9 months pregnant.
2. loves me desperately, and I know it well. So I am pretty forgiving when the words come out wrong.

Steven wrote, "Found photos from 7 years ago. You haven't aged a day."

Duke and I were sitting together at the computer when we read his comment, and my sweet husband, looking at my giant belly, said, "little does he know." This was dumb, but not the worst part. I just laughed and said something like, "I know, right?"

Then I didn't say anything. I was just sitting there looking at the picture. Suddenly, Duke reached his hand out, rubbed my shoulder and said in a consoling tone, "It's ok, honey."

Such a boy. Really. I laughed and laughed while he asked me, "what? what did I say?"

Actually, as I looked at the pictures I was thinking about how much I like myself now. I do look similar, though I have changed, but all in good ways. The last seven years have given me depth and grace and confidence, really. So, it was rather funny that Duke assumed I was spiraling into pregnant-lady self-pity. I love my man, even if he is such a boy sometimes.

Oh, I must share just one more embarrassing conversation. This one was when I was very large with child the first time around (and a little more sensitive) so it took a few months to become funny.

The word "change" is what he meant to say. Like "change your clothes."

Here it goes. Late one night he rolled close to me in bed and said, "I wish you would turn into something sexy." In other sentances the words "change" and "turn" might actually have similar meanings. Not in this one. Always an adventure, being married.

Good thing I know he totally digs me, belly and all.