History Lesson

A while ago I overheard Jarom and Taran talking about their Uncle Dave, who is an officer in the National Guard.

Taran: Did Uncle Dave win the civil war?

Jarom (scornfully): That was thousands of years ago!

So glad that my kids have a firm grasp of history.  :o)

What I Know

I could sit here and make a whole bunch of excuses about why I haven't posted in almost a year, but I'm not going to.

What I am going to do is tell you exactly what I believe and feel about the gospel of Jesus Christ, and my God.  Because I don't want there to be any question about that.  To badly paraphrase Jeffrey R. Holland, when I get to the other side, I don't want there to be any confusion about where I stood.

I know, not through empirical proof, but through the witness that I have felt through the Holy Ghost, that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the true and living church of God on the earth.   That His church that He established in the New Testament was lost, but has been restored to us.  I know, because of miracles that I have personally witnessed, that His priesthood was restored, is on the earth, and that those keys are held and used by the members of the Church today.  I know that the president of the Church, Thomas S. Monson, is the prophet of the Lord, holds all the keys of His priesthood, and actually talks to God.  Yes, that's what I said: there is a man on earth who TALKS TO GOD, face to face.  Think about that for just a moment.

I know that Jesus Christ is the Savior, not only of me, and of members of the Church, but of the whole world.  And of the whole universe, for that matter.  He knows how I feel, He knows how I hurt, He knows my weaknesses, and He still loves me.  Because of His atonement I can repent of my sins.  Because of His grace I am saved.  Because of His atonement and grace I can be better (a tiny, tiny bit) every day, and fill my life with His love.  I can become who I am truly supposed to be.

I know, because of the answers that I have gotten as I have asked God, that Joseph Smith saw what he said he saw, did what he said he did, and was who he said he was.  I know, because I have prayed, I have asked, and I have seen the light and answers that it has brought to my life, that the Book of Mormon is the Word of God.  Period.

I know that the "Brethren", meaning the Quorum of the 12 Apostles and the First Presidency (President Monson and his two counselors) are prophets, seers and revelators, and are called by God.  Because of that we have continuing revelation, and we know that we are not alone in this vast universe.  I also know that the best way to be truly happy today, tomorrow, and forever, is through following the prophet and apostles.

I know that we have temples that are literally the houses of the Lord. I know that when I am inside that I feel a peace that I can feel almost no where else.  I know that because of temples and the covenants that I made, and do my best to keep, that I will be with my Heavenly Father, my Savior, and my family forever.

There are more details I could share, more things that I could tell you that I "know", but for right now, this is enough.  As long as you know that I believe all of this is true, it is enough.  Even if you think I am wrong, that's ok.  Because I know.

Just Another Day at Target

So, I’m in Target (‘cause it seems like I’m always in Target), doing major grocery shopping. I have Ben and Alyssa with me, per usual, and things have gone fairly well, on the whole. I have made my usual bribes to get Ben to cooperate: a cheese stick from the refrigerated section, a free cookie from the bakery section, and a cheapo bag of mini-marshmallows that he can toss in the air to himself and catch while we’re going up and down the aisles, which he will then have for dessert over the next week; so it’s both entertainment and junk food. Best of both worlds.

I have filled my cart to the absolute maximum by using my not inconsiderable spacial reasoning abilities, stacking everything like it’s a Tetris game, so that by the time I have gotten my apples, clementines, and lettuce from produce (my last stop), there is not one inch left of usable real estate, including on either side of Alyssa in the front seat.

Check out goes ok, although it always takes longer than you think, by about twice as much—especially since I have the audacity to use coupons and group my purchases into category groups (Groceries, Toiletries, Home, Medical, etc.). The checker doesn’t give me the evil eye too much, because I do, at least, have the coupons separated into the same categories as my stuff.

However, I have to drag Ben off the floor more than once, tell him “No, I’m not going to buy X, or Y, or Z,” at least three times, and threaten him with bodily harm if he goes behind the checkout station “one more time,” twice. Alyssa is doing ok, because I fed her just before we left, but she’s getting to the end of her window of happy, and the longer check out takes, the more desperate she’s starting to get.

I also have to go get another cart, because once the groceries are in bags it is impossible to fit them into one cart again. But I’ve done that before, so no worries. At the end of it all, when both the checker and I are exhausted, I apologize profusely, thanking her for her patience with me and my child, which she is gracious enough to recognize with a half-smile. I’m trying not to be embarrassed about the whole thing, but I still feel like a total loser because of the people behind me who have been waiting forever. Although, they could see the veritable mountain of stuff that I had, I didn’t try to hide it or anything, so why did they get in line behind me then?!?! (Can you tell that I’m feeling just a tad defensive?)

As I start toward the door, pushing one cart with one hand, and pulling the other with my other hand, I’m feeling ok about things on the whole. I’m definitely not super-mom (I’m still in my exercise clothes, and it’s almost 2:00 in the afternoon), but I’m also not the worst mom in the world either. I didn’t even scream at Ben (this time) when he threw a fit about…whatever it was he threw a fit about.

Yeah, that’s not gonna last.

As I walk, I start hearing this funny noise. Kind of like…a…gagging…noise…I look down, and realize that while I was paying I had absentmindedly put my grocery list down on Alyssa—and she had grabbed it, stuffed it in her mouth, and was choking on about half of it. I quickly stop the cart, do a finger sweep, get part of it, do another one, and get the rest. But in my panic I was none too gentle, and Alyssa just looks at me, as if to say, “Mommy, how could you do that to me!” And then she starts to sob. Loudly.

I try to comfort her as best as I can, but I still have to catch up to Ben, who, meanwhile, was pretending to be a bat, holding out his coat behind him like wings, and running as fast as he could to the exit. I’m about halfway to the door when I hear someone say, “Sweetie, I think you had better wait for your mom before you leave.” I hurry even more, whispering to Alyssa, who is still wailing, and find that a very nice family was playing “goalie” with Ben in an attempt to try to keep him from rushing out to the parking lot all by himself. However, Ben does not like their game, and is growling at them, with his brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed, like he is some kind of feral dog.

He does that a lot.

I try to grab him, but since I have two carts it’s not going too well. I end up just half-yelling at Ben to “Stay right by me!!” but I can’t go too much with the volume, because the helpful family is still looking at us, giving me the, “What kind of mother are you?” look. I settle for hissing, “I mean it!!!” which can be given at full volume.

So here I am, crazy mom, not dressed or showered, who can’t keep track of her kids, pushing two carts, patting one sobbing baby, and attempting to corral one feral 4-year old, all the while trying to get to the car so I can have a breakdown in private. The only minutely saving grace at that point was that I didn’t have the rest of my kids with me so that all the people who look at me and shake their heads, wondering why I would have so many kids if I can’t take care of them, would not be right.

Yup. Just one more check-mark in my “Best Mommy Ever” book. :o)

But General Conference was wonderful though, wasn’t it? My two favorite talks were Sister Wixom’s about speaking softly and with mildness to our children (can you guess why?) and Elder Cardon’s about the Lord asking us to forgive "70 x 7", but that He is also willing to forgive us the same way; over and over, as long as we don’t give up, and keep trying to be better.

That gave me so much hope, since I am truly imperfect, and feel like I struggle with the same imperfections again and again. In the Savior’s atonement, there is always hope.

Romney and Me

When Mitt Romney first started running, I wasn't too sure about it.  Just because someone is LDS, that doesn't give them an automatic "gimmie" in my book.  It actually makes them have to work that much harder to get my vote, because I am now not only evaluating them as a person with decent values, etc., but how well they are living up to the gospel, and all that that entails.

However, the more that I am learning about Romney, his wife Ann, and his running mate (who I think was fantastic choice, by the way), the more impressed I am, and I'm not on the fence anymore.

That said, there was a terrific article by the Eyres in the Deseret News entitled, "The "Mormon Speech" we wish Romney would give," that I absolutely loved.  It made me want to stand up and shout, "AMEN!", or at the very least, send it to my entire email contact list.  Since that isn't very practical, I decided to post it here, and then maybe you guys could send it to who you thought would enjoy it.

Because I am so tired of uninformed, prejudiced people, hiding behind their "sophistication" as they make comments that would cause outrage and accusations of bigotry if those statements were directed at any other religious group or minority.

Ok, rant over.

Anyway, here's the link:

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865561304/The-Mormon-speech-we-wish-Romney-would-give.html?pg=1

Welcome, Alyssa Rose!

So, I was induced on my due date, which was fantabulous--not having to wait another week to be induced, that is.  We delivered at Wake Med, which I was a little nervous about, I have to admit, it being the county hospital and all.  But I shouldn't have worried, because it was fine.  Better than fine, actually. 

The delivery went very smoothly, and the nurses were fantastic--both the delivery and recovery nurses.  The rooms were nice and the food was actually pretty good.  Unfortunately, they have this dumb rooming-in policy, so you can't have the baby stay in the nursery overnight. But, on the whole, I had a good experience.

Of course, the best part was that at the end of it all, we had Alyssa.  She was born on July 24th, at 4:40 pm.  I think it is so cool that her birthday is Pioneer Day.  She will have so much fun whenever we are out visiting my parents for July 24th.   I mean, who wouldn't love parades and fireworks on their birthday? 

Really, the most overwhelming feeling that we've had is just how glad we are that she's finally here.  As I held her I just kept thinking, "You're here!  You're here!  Oh, I'm so glad you're here!!!!"  It's the most amazing feeling: now that she's here, we're not waiting for anyone else to come.  Our family is complete.  There are no empty chairs.

She's such a good baby too.  She nurses really well, has naps at generally convenient times, and even just gets up once during the night.  I am just holding my breath, praying that she doesn't switch at 3 weeks to this other thing that I can't help, and I can't understand.

I pray all the time that I'll be able to continue to enjoy her so much, that colic won't interfere with her well being--or mine, for that matter.  Because I feel like myself, surprisingly.  Admittedly, I burst into tears at the drop of a hat, or if there's a sad commercial, etc., but in general, I feel emotionally ok.  Compared to the nightmare that I experienced after Ben was born, this is a dream come true.

I actually don't mind when she wakes up from a nap, or if she's fussy, because I know I can sooth her.  I get so happy when I see her little eyes open, and I know that I get to hold her.  I'm so glad she's here!

Less than a month...

To be specific, four weeks from today I should be in the hospital giving birth.  I finally found an OB-gyn that I really like, who is willing to induce me on my due date if Alyssa decides to hang out like Kelcey and Ben did. 

It is such a wonderful feeling, to know that, yes, my feet and veins are swollen to truly gargantuan proportions, and I'm lumbering around like a water buffalo trying to do the tango, but, really, there's a definite end date to it all.  I don't just have to wait, and hope, and then wait some more, with no results. 

If Alyssa does decide to come before her due date, fine (I am NOT holding my breath), but if she follows the trend, then I know that July 24th is the big day.  Because it is definitely gonna be time to move out and stop paying rent! 

Can I hear a "woo-woo" for modern medicine!!  :o)

Poop-tacular

I thought for a while about what to call this post:  Poop-tastrophe, Rise of the Planet of the Poop, Poop-stravaganza...you get the idea.

Any one of them would have been sufficient to let my loyal readers know, I am having a problem with poop!

Well, not with my poop, with Ben's poop.  Or to be more specific, the fact that even though it's been almost a month since we started potty training, he has only gone poop in the toilet ONCE. 

Yes you read that right.  For the last 3 1/2 weeks, almost every time he has had to go poop he has gone in his pants.

His older brother, Jarom, didn't like going poop in the toilet either, but he would save it up until I put his pull-up on him at night, and then go.  It was annoying, but it wasn't as completely disgusting as going in underwear and pants, which I have to swish out in the toilet, and then wash in hot water.  I have a perpetual load of laundry in the washing machine, just from Ben's accidents.  And for those of you who know how much I hate doing laundry, that's a big deal.

I figured that Ben would get a clue after his first poop accident, just like he did when he wet his pants.  He didn't like how it felt, and decided that he would much rather go in the toilet.   And, really, he's almost an expert about going pee in the toilet.

He will usually tell me when he has to go, even if he has to stop playing, or come in from outside, or whatever, take care of business, and then go back to whatever he was doing. Lots of times he'll go completely on his own, without even telling me first--the only sign being that he's naked from the waist down, and I need to help him put his shorts back on. 

Of course, he will have occasional accidents, but what kid doesn't?  But he got the peeing thing so quickly, like within a week, that I really thought that this was going to be so much easier than it was with Jarom.  So close, and yet sooooooo far away.

Yesterday was the last straw though.  I was in my room, when he came in, sans underwear or shorts, with a guilty look on his face, and poop on his hands.  He had taken off his underwear and shorts, and actually peed in the toilet, and then gone in the playroom and pooped on the floor!!!!!

I cleaned him up, cleaned up the floor (I swear, we should have stock in Resolve pet stain carper cleaner), and then put him in time out.  I didn't scream, and I didn't spank him, but he was in time out the whole time it took me to clean everything up.

Usually, whenever he has an accident he is no longer allowed to go out and play, or ride bikes (his favorite thing to do) because I want him realize that it's a big deal, but also because its a natural consequence of his behavior.  If he pees or poops in his clothes, then he has used up his clean pants for that day, so he just gets new underwear.  And he can't go outside in just underwear.  (OK, he would go outside in just his underwear, and be perfectly fine with it, but then the neighbors look at me weird.)

I thought that would get through to him eventually, but, so far, it seems like it's brand new info every single time he has an "incident".  He gets upset that he can't go outside, and tells me that he's sorry that he had an accident, and that he will tell me the next time he has to go poop, but then nothing actually changes, and I'm stuck swishing underwear out in the toilet.

The one time he did go poop in the toilet it wasn't because he told me, but because I spotted him hiding in the corner, looking very intent, and I knew that he was about ready, so I whisked him onto the toilet and didn't let him get off until he had produced. 

We still gave him the truck we had as a reward, and the Hershey Kisses, and made a big deal about it, and I really thought (again) that maybe that's all he needed, to see how it worked one time--get over his mental block, or something.  But then he went poop in his pull-up that very night.  So, nada.

After yesterday's incident I took the reward truck back, and told him that he had to go poop in the toilet to get it back, but I don't know if that will have any effect. Or maybe I am being too harsh.  But this has got to stop.

Anyone out there have anything that worked with their boys?  Cause I am seriously out of ideas.

Boy, this is probably more thinking about poop than you've done in a while, huh?  Aren't you glad you read this post?  :o)

One of My Best Blessings

This morning was horrible, and humbling, and wonderful, almost all at the same time. Today I had to bake bread for the week, so I started grinding the wheat while the kids were watching Sesame Street. Kelcey was home from school with a fever, but was doing much, much better.

While the wheat was grinding I sat in the chair in the Family Room and did some hand sewing that I’ve been needing to do, so my back was to the kitchen. Plus, the volume on the TV was really loud so that the kids could hear it above the wheat grinder. Which all means that I couldn’t see or hear what was going on in the kitchen. Ben had gotten up, but I thought that he went up to the playroom. Not so.

When I finished enough sewing to take a break and get up, I saw that Ben had taken the top off of the grinder, and a bunch of the wheat had spilled. And then he played in it so that it was all over the place. EVERYWHERE. It was all over the counter and the floor, all the way to the kitchen table.

I was operating under a fairly tight schedule (when am I not?) of grinding wheat, then baking bread, and then paying bills, and then putting a photo book together, not to mention the 7 other things I had on my to-do list, and today is piano lessons, and Activity Girls, and Cub Scouts, and… I saw it all going down the drain. I was totally overwhelmed, and I just couldn’t see how I was going to get it all cleaned up, and then do everything else too.

So, the horrible part?  I am extremely ashamed to say that I lost it. Completely.  Horribly.

I started screaming and crying, asking, how he could do that? I grabbed Ben, gave him a three really hard swats, took him into the bathroom for a time-out and set him down (none too gently, either), and then beat on the closet door so that I wouldn’t beat my child.  Seriously, my thumbs are bruised from hitting the door so hard.  Oh, I am so pathetic!

I told Heavenly Father that I just couldn’t do this, that it was all too hard—and somehow, it wasn’t just the wheat anymore, it was the pregnancy, and the kids, and all of the other things that I have to do.

After screaming and crying a little bit more, I got the heck out of Dodge, because I knew that I just had to get out of the situation before I did anything that I would regret. More than I already do, anyway.

You know, I had thought that I was doing a pretty good job with the pregnancy hormones, not letting them get the best of me, not being “that” mom, , but then something like this happens, and I am out for the count. Sigh…

So, I just sat there, blubbering and feeling overwhelmed and sorry for myself, when my mom called to ask me a question. I think the Lord knew that I needed serious help, because there was no coincidence about the timing of that call. My mom has always been my best support, and able to help me with whatever I need—talk me off the proverbial ledge, if you will—and she really helped this time. By the time I explained everything, and she gave me some suggestions, I was able to calm down, and stop crying, and realize that it wasn’t the end of the world.

Ok, so here’s the really wonderful part: While I had locked myself away, crying and feeling like I couldn’t handle it anymore, Kelcey, all by herself, got out the sweeper and dust pan, and just started cleaning up. She even shook out the rug so that she could get all the wheat that had gotten on that as well. By the time I emerged, telling myself that "I. Can. Do. This!", Kelcey had a whole section of the floor clear. She gave me such a sweet smile (not even holding a grudge because I had screamed and scared her and Ben half to death) and said, “Look, Mommy! I’m cleaning up!” She even asked if we could clean up together.

I was so humbled, and so truly grateful for everything she had done. All of a sudden, it didn’t seem so overwhelming, and I knew that I could do it, especially with her help and loving attitude. Together, we cleaned up it all in about 20 minutes.

Mostly I am so grateful for her sweet spirit of love and service, willing to help me, even though I totally didn’t deserve it, but she knew that I needed it. She just saw that I needed help, and she started cleaning. Without me saying a word. And she even knew how she should clean up!

As I think about it, I am just so humbled that the Lord helped me in my moment of need, sending my own personal angels: first my mom to help me calm down, and then my little girl, barely 6 years old, who gave loving service when I felt like I couldn’t do it all by myself. Because of them, I didn’t have to do it all by myself. I wasn’t alone. Just like we’re never really alone. He always knows what we need. I still can’t believe that my prayers were answered so quickly and completely, especially when I had just proved how messed up I really was.

This is one of my most amazing, absolutely wonderful, favorite moments with Kelcey, and I never want to forget it. I am so unbelievably lucky to have her for my daughter. She is one of my best blessings.

Potty Training - 4th time's the charm

Once we were sufficiently recovered from our Disney trip (read: all the laundry was done, and we had milk in the house again) I decided that we were going to potty train Ben. He really got interested in using the toilet while we were on our trip, I think because I dragged him into every single one since I had to go all the time, so he had more exposure than usual. Plus he's just ready, and it was time.

We bought 4 packages of Lightning McQueen underwear (his choice) and on Monday we went cold turkey. He only had one accident before he figured out what "that feeling" was, and he went in the toilet way more times than he didn't.

However, Tuesday was a totally different story. He absolutely refused to use the toilet, notwithstanding my begging, tears, and bribes. The honeymoon was over, you could say. The only way I broke through to him was to wait until he literally couldn't hold it anymore and was peeing down his leg, then picked him up, and just sat him down so that he finished on the toilet. Then, of course, I made a big deal about how great he did, and broke out the chocolate candy that I was saving for rewarding #2 behavior.

Since then it has been much, much, much better. He hasn't had an accident in two days, and he will come and tell me when he has to go, so I don't have to follow him around like a hovering hummingbird, constantly asking if he needs to "use the potty". 

Frankly, even though this is my 4th child, potty training still kind of freaks me out, so I am grateful beyond words that Ben seems to have "gotten" it so quickly.  Yet another tender mercy, no?

Plus, I think the fact that I switched to M&M's for the reward has also helped a lot. I mean, really, who doesn't love chocolate?

Walt Disney World 2012

We just got back from our Walt Disney World trip a couple of weeks ago, which was awesome, as you can imagine, and completely magical. Which makes sense, cause it's Disney World, and all.

One really nice thing is that we stayed in the "cabins" at Walt Disney World (they are actually trailers, with logs nailed around the outside, but it was still very nice) and you could park right in front of your individual cabin. Plus there was a little kitchen, a separate bedroom, and a Murphy-bed in the living room that Jeff and I used, so we had more space to spread out, compared to a regular hotel room.

We booked our trip through AAA, and one of our perks was a "diamond" parking pass, so we got to park really close to the entrances of the parks. Compared with waiting for the buses, wrestling our stroller onto the bus, and then riding the bus with a ton of people, and wrestling our stroller off the bus, etc. this was a dream come true! We just walked out of our cabin, got in the car, drove to the park, went to our special little parking area, and walked in. Most of the time it only took around 15 minutes (and hardly ever more than a 1/2 hour) to get from our front door to being inside the parks.

Unfortunately, I was already pretty wiped out with fun activities because the kids had been tracked out for 3 weeks before we went, and we'd done museums, and parks, and play dates until I was ready to cry. I think I did a couple of times, actually. Pregnancy hormones are the best. Also, the kids were sick of each other from all the "togetherness" of the previous 3 weeks, so there was more arguing amongst the troops than I think there otherwise would have been.

Note to self: either do big trips at the beginning of track-out, or just take the kids out of school. They'll enjoy it more, and I won't be so tired. On the whole, I think I did pretty well, though, considering that I was at the end of my 2nd trimester, and waddling around like a duck out of water. A duck with varicose veins, no less.

We tried to give Jarom and Taran some "big kid time" in each of the parks, so we would split up for a little while each day, and Jeff would take the two oldest on the roller-coasters that I couldn't go on anyway, and I would take the little kids and do something else fun. Of course, that usually included a "magical" trip to the bathroom as well, because of yes, the aforementioned pregnancy. I think I literally visited every single bathroom in every single park at least once during our trip, if not more than once.

Dad and the big kids really enjoyed Space Mountain, Splash Mountain (Kelcey got to go on that one too), Mission Space, the Rockin' Roller Coaster, and Star Tours. However, Expedition Everest was too high (shocker), and the Tower of Terror was just, well, terrifying. I know, I know. You're thinking, you let an 8 and 10 year old ride those? Poor judgment on our part, I agree, but they really, really wanted to, and they fit the height requirement, so I figured it couldn't be too bad.

Yeah, I was wrong.

But I think our favorite rides were actually the ones we got to do altogether, like Pirates of the Caribbean, or Winnie the Pooh—especially Toy Story Mania, a ride at Hollywood Studios, where you try to hit 3D targets like you're in a carnival. But a gazillion times cooler than that! It was the only ride that they kids said, as they were getting off the ride, "We've got to do that again!"

One of the coolest things that we were able to do was to meet quite a few Characters while we were there. 

Kelcey got to meet Snow White:

We had lunch with Winnie the Pooh and his friends:

They met Tinkerbell (Jarom said that he didn't want to go, but later admitted that she was pretty funny):

Ben got to meet Lightning McQueen and Mater:

Taran got to meet King Louis:

and then we got  to have dinner with Cinderella and 4 other princesses!  (the girls were in absolute HEAVEN):

We also had a couple of extra fun moments while we were there.  While we were on the Carousel in Fantasyland we realized that Taran and Kelcey were riding Cinderella's horse!  We had read about it in a trivia book I checked out of the library, and had been keeping our eyes out for it.  (Also, a cast member told us that they were on Cinderella's horse, so it's true, right?)  Apparently, it's the only one with a gold ribbon on the tail. Pretty neat. 

And we found the mystery wedding ring in the pavement at the Haunted Mansion!  We had been looking for it, but I guess when they re-did the ride they moved it from where it was at the exit, to a place in the waiting line in the cemetary.  The first time through we missed it, but we asked a cast memeber where it was, so when we went through later that night, we were looking very closely, and Jarom found it!  So cool!

We all had a truly fantastic time, and each of the kids has longingly sighed, at one time or another, "Mom, I wish we were back in Disney World." Even Ben has asked several times to go back to the "Tiny Chairs," his name for our cabin, because there was a child size table and chairs in a corner.

Even with all the small issues, it was absolutely wonderful, and actually, yeah, Jeff and I wish we could go back too. :o)

Track-Out Fun. . . Sort Of

The kids have all been tracked out for the last 2 1/2 weeks, and I am really starting to get worn out. I've tried to do several fun things every week, with varying degrees of success, but I think they've enjoyed themselves. We've ridden bikes at one park (Rolesville Main St.), ridden scooters at another (Anderson Point), had a family picnic (Miller Park), ridden the train and the carousel after another picnic (Pullen Park), and gone to the children's museum (Marbles), plus had several play dates.


Actually, we were doing pretty well until yesterday. I took the kids to Durham Life and Science museum, which is usually tons of fun. Unfortunately, within a 1/2 hour of our arrival, Kelcey decided to go into a water-pumping section of the playground with her shoes and socks on, and then, when they got soaking wet, she decided to go barefoot, and then, as she was running around, she tripped (my girls are really clutzy for some reason), and cut her toe.

Of course, I could have done a better job of being sympathetic, but I was so irritated that she got into the water / took off her socks and shoes without permission, that I just cleaned her up as best as I could and made her put her wet shoe right back on.  I mean, what else was she going to wear, right? So, the poor girl is walking around for hours with a hurt toe, in a wet sneaker, and a mother that doesn't want to hear any whining.

I felt really awful when we got home and I took her shoes to wash them, and I realized that she had bled through the fabric, all over the toe section! And when I really cleaned her up, putting on the correct bandages, etc., I realized that it was a fairly deep cut, and she was probably in a lot of pain, and not just being a drama queen. Yet another check-mark in my "best-mom-ever" book. Sigh.

Another reason that yesterday's trip wasn't the most stellar of our outings is that the museum is absolutely huge, and we only had a limited amount of time. It's got a building with inside exhibits, and an outside part with lots of different sections, and to do both either takes one r-e-a-l-l-y long day, or a couple of mornings/afternoons in a row. Well, I didn't have a whole day, nor was I going to spend two half days in a row there. All I had was one afternoon, and that was it. So the kids had to choose what they wanted to do, and we didn't even get to do everything on the list. As you can imagine, it was meltdown city at 5:00 when the announcement came that they were closing.

Then, when we stopped at the bathroom on our way to the car, I realized that Ben had had a total blowout in his diaper, the kind with little bits that won't come off with just wipes—you really have to just wash the kid off.  Thankfully, we were the only ones in the bathroom by that time, so I was able to sit Ben down in a sink and wash him with soap and water. After I got him totally cleaned up (and the sink, and the changing area) it was 20 minutes later, and we had a janitor waiting impatiently for us to exit. It was a little embarrassing to have Ben in nothing but a diaper and t-shirt (his jeans were not salvageable) as we walked to the car, but since were the last people in the place, there weren't too many witnesses.

We're going to the zoo on Wednesday.  Heaven help us.

Here She Comes...Miss Alyssa Rose

We had our ultrasound on Tuesday, and if you couldn't figure it out from the post title, it's a girl!!  'Cause, man, how twisted would that be to name a boy "Alyssa Rose"?  That would take all sorts of psychotic.  And thankfully, I'm not quite there yet. 

Actually, to get off on a massive tangent, the last time I was at the temple I was talking to a lady while we were waiting for the session to start, and we were talking about the names that we had, and that led to a discussion of names in general, and she told me that her mom's parents wanted a boy, and even though she was born a girl they still named her "John".  Seriously!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I can't put enough exclamation points on how wrong that is!!  Not to mention completely selfish.  The lady told me that her mom had a good sense of humor about it by the time she was older, but I bet she wasn't so laid back about it when she was in school.  Please, that almost makes "Apple", or "Magnus" seem normal by comparison.

So, ANYWAYYYYYYY... The ultrasound went really well, and both the tech and the doctor agreed that it was a girl.  I had thought that it was a girl even before the tech told us, because, you know, hey, it's not my first time. :o)   (TV show reference, anyone?)

It was extra good to hear that everything looked really good, and was functioning the right way, etc., because right, right after I found out I was pregnant we went on vacation, and I got into the hotel hot tub, without even thinking about it.  At least until I got out, and remembered that I was pregnant, and hot tubs were on the "no-no's"list.  So then I was freaking out, and sobbing in my bed at 3:00 in the morning, sure that I had doomed our child to spina bifida, or other birth defects.  Isn't it funny how things are the worst at 3 in the morning?

But, at least at this point, things seem to be going very well.  As a matter of fact, the doctor said, a couple of times, that our baby was as healthy as you could hope for.  Fantastic!!

I was kind of hoping for a girl (even though a boy would have been great too), so I'm thrilled that she's really going to be part of our family.  Now I just need to pray that she isn't high-maintenance, or a drama queen.  I've already got a few of those.  :o) 

Something Fun, Something Good, Something AWESOME!!

It's not often that I watch a video on youtube and am both laughing and crying, but when I went to The Piano Guys channel, that's what happened.  I had already seen their Star Wars Parody, but my mom sent me the link to their youtube channel, and it is awesome!  They are two guys who are very talented, but also produce something fun and uplifting too.  (I think they could be LDS, what with the prominant wedding rings, and undershirt thing they've got going on, not to mention their love of Star Wars, but I'm completely guessing.)

Anyway, I'm including the link to their Charlie Brown (you know, the jazz soundtrack from all the TV specials?) "concert" at a retirement home.  This video is the one that made me laugh and cry at the same time.  Granted, a lot of it could be pregnancy hormones, but it's seriously so great. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tyPDQpel8bI&feature=relmfu

And I totally recommend this "Somewhere over the Rainbow/Simple Gifts" video as well.  Oh, they're all awesome...go watch 'em all! 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jzF_y039slk&feature=channel

Here's my current, new (as of five minutes ago) favorite:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ry4BzonlVlw&feature=relmfu

And here's the one that started it all: Cello Wars!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BgAlQuqzl8o&feature=related

Ok, I just watched this Carol of the Bells video,

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9GtPX6c_kg&feature=relmfu

and I'm almost positive that that's Gallivan Plaza in downtown Salt Lake, and they had another video faturing Alex Boye, from the Mormon Tab, so I'm calling it:  LDS!!

Which just makes it all even more fun and awesome, no?    :o)

I think I'm actually going to put my money where my mouth is, and get some of their stuff from itunes.

Maternity Pants are a Go

Well, I finally did it.  I wasn't going to, but I did it.

I got my maternity clothes out of the attic, and into the closet, where they belong.

I was hoping to put it off a bit longer, but I realized the only one suffering was myself.  Ok, granted, I could say that I was still wearing my normal jeans, but they kept sliding down under the bump, so that I had to constantly yank up my waistband, or cutting into my abdomen, which was incredibly uncomfortable.

I think that it was a little (!) bit of pride, because everyone kept saying that I didn't even look pregnant, and I don't look huge (I never do in the beginning), and so I wanted to keep that illusion up.  But my deep-seated need for comfort above almost all else has come to the rescue.

I am 17 weeks along, which is the end of the 4th month, and I am seriously in my 2nd trimester now.  As of this morning I weigh 147, which means that I've gained 5 lbs so far.  According to the pregnancy weight tracker that I found online (thebabycorner.com, for anyone who's interested) that's at the low end of where I should be at 17 weeks, based on my BMI, and planning on only gaining the 25-35 lbs.

I'm right on track, so why am I so depressed?  Well, for a couple of reasons.  Last time, with Ben, I didn't start wearing maternity clothes until 18 weeks.  And even though I start out small, in my other pregnancies, I have more than made up for it once I pass the half-way mark.  To the tune of an average 65 + lbs gained each time!

Ok, I need to get out of panic mode, and realize that things this time are going to be different.  I am tracking what I eat, which I never did before, and I understand what 300 calories actually looks like, so I am not giving myself permission to eat a ton because I feel icky otherwise. 

Phew!   Ok, I'm off the ledge.  :o)

A (Hopefully Not SO Big) Announcement

Hey Ya'll,

I know it's been forever since I posted, but I've had something on my mind, and I didn't want to spill the beans early. 

Oh heck, let's just be honest:  I'm technologically challenged, I'm lucky if I check my email more than once every three days, and I didn't have much to post, other than, "The kids are STILL tracked out, and I'm really really ready for them to go back to school.  Does this make me a bad mother?"

Anyway, I just wanted to let everyone know that we're going to be having #5 at the end of July sometime.  My official due date is July 24th (Pioneer Day!!), but I'm saying that it's the 31st, just because all the other kids have been late, and I don't want to set myself up for disappointment.

So I'm 14 weeks along, and starting my 2nd trimester.  Woo Hoo!!  Although I have to say that this has been my easiest pregnancy so far.  Hardly any nausea, comparatively, some migraines, but not much after week 8 or 9, and I haven't even been that exhausted.  Of course, it could be that it's like my other earlier pregnancies, but I honestly don't remember how they were anymore.  Or maybe it's just SOOOOO much better than my last one, that this is practically a walk in the park. 

Last time I was horribly sick and just so tired, plus migraines practically every other day, until after my 15th week.  Poor Benny, I hope I don't give him a complex when he gets older, but his really was just an incredibly difficult pregnancy, plus he had colic (the kind that makes you think your baby is broken until they're 3 or 4 months old), PLUS, I had serious post-partum depression that required Zoloft to get out of.  It's a good thing that he's so fun and cute.  Especially because he's probably the most stubborn of my kids, too.  Yup, it's a darn good thing that he's so cute

I'm hoping for a girl, but we'll be happy with whichever, of course.  Jeff and I even have our names picked out.  If it it is a girl, she's going to be "Alyssa Rose" (Jeff's mom's middle name is Rose) and if it's a boy, we like "Andrew Porter" (Porter is an old family name on Jeff's side as well).

The reason for the post title is that I'm really really REALLY going to try to not gain the 65 + pounds that I have almost all the other pregnancies.  My "A-ha!" moment came when I realized that when you're pregnant you ONLY need 300 more calories, which is roughly the equivalent of a hard boiled egg, a small glass of chocolate milk, and one piece of whole wheat toast, no butter.  That's it!!  So I'm sticking with the Weightwatchers program (maintaining, not losing) so that I will track what I'm eating, and be motivated to exercise every day, but then just add those couple of things.  I didn't gain any weight until week 13, so I'm hoping that I can actually stick to those "25-35 lbs" of weight gain that all the pregnancy books tell you to aim for.  Here's hoping (and praying)!

Anyway, I'll keep you posted.   :o)

House Projects Update

I feel a little bad about that title, because it almost implies that I have been doing all of these great projects, when I haven't, but I have managed to finish a couple, or at the very least, pay someone who knew how to do it much better than I, to finish them.  So here's the latest:

First, we finally managed to get the front porch painted.  Last year (yeah, I know), we added some architectural interest to the front by getting a guy to put up some molding and arches.  The understanding was that we needed to get it painted right away, because the wood was only primed, and a whole winter wasn't going to be good for it.  Well, you already knew that wasn't going to happen, didn't ya. 

This summer we noticed it was looking pretty rough, but after a gallon of Kilz (that stuff can work miracles!) and some really good mildew-resistant paint (seriously, it cost over $35!) the porch looks great.

I painted the mailbox too, because it looked awful next to the glowing porch.  You'll just have to trust me when I tell you that it looks way, way better.

We also finally got our backsplash in the kitchen finished.  We had started the project in May, but because of some bad timing, and needing to change labourers mid-stream (is that a mixed metaphor?) it wasn't totally finished until September.  But it turned out absolutely beautiful, if I do say so myself. 

I think the tile is fantastic.  I love how it stands out, but still goes with the granite, so it doesn't compete.

Most of this summer we spent working on the backyard, putting in a walled garden (no, it doesn't have anything in it, because we didn't finish until it was almost Halloween, but come next Spring, we are going to be ready to go!!), as well as marble rock surrounding the garden, and all around the back. 

Putting the rock in was Jeff's idea ,so that he wouldn't have to use the edger when he mows.  Jeff absolutely hates mowing the lawn, and will do almost anything to make the job less of a bear.  I can sympathize with trying to make a job take less time and work, and it really ended up looking pretty cool, if you ask me.

Ok, last thing: I just wanted to post a picture of the finished guest room, with a lamp and artwork, and actually looking like someone would want to stay there.  :o) 

'Cause remember, we love visitors! (again with the "hint, hint")   :o)

My Awesome Friend

I have a friend, who, as the title might suggest, is awesome.  No, let me take that back.

She is. . . AWESOME!!!

I met her when we were living in the USU married housing trailer court, which was also awesome, by the way.  She was a "young" married girl (which really just meant younger than me), but we totally clicked.  We had had babies about the same time, and so we walked together every day to lose the baby weight, and it worked pretty darn great.

When we moved from Utah to North Carolina I was way sad to not have her around to hang out with everyday, but we've kept in touch with the occasional phone call and email, etc.  You know how it goes. 

Well, this "young mother," who was just starting out when I knew her, is now a mother of four (3 boys and a girl), two of whom have special needs.  Casey, her second son, is autistic, and her fourth child, Abby, has down syndrome.

My friend is not only awesome, but she has this AWESOME blog, mostly just about her life, but also about being a mom with special needs kids, and how hard it can be, but also how (get ready for it) awesome it is as well.

She wrote a really fantastic post a little while ago, defending the decision to go ahead with a pregnancy with a child who has down syndrome which I loved and wanted to post right away.  However, unlike her, I am not awesome, and I haven't blogged in a while, but I thought that I would (finally!) post the link now.

But first, I wanted to post a link to pix of her completely beautiful daughter:

http://www.mostlytruestuff.com/2011/11/abby-fix.html

Ok, here's the post I was talking about:

http://www.mostlytruestuff.com/2011/10/my-angry-down-syndrome-awareness-post.html

And the follow-up post, that you should read too, because it's...(wait for it)...awesome!!!

http://www.mostlytruestuff.com/2011/10/thanks-for-sharing.html

Brothers from Another Mother

Well, not really, but it makes more sense than "Twins!  ...Kinda, Sort of."  We've recently discovered that Ben and Jarom look almost exactly like each other at the same age.  Jarom says that Ben is his twin, "we were just born at different times."

We have all our family pictures on the computer as our screen saver, sort of a continuous slide-show, but we didn't have a digital camera the first few years we had kids (Yes, I am that old) so we never get to see baby pictures of Jarom all the time like we do Ben, or even Kelcey.

The other day Jarom got out some photo albums from when he was little, and while he was looking at them Ben came over and started to say, "Benny, Benny!" over and over, while he was pointing to the pictures.  We tried to explain that they were pictures of Jarom, not him, but the more we looked at them, we realized, yeah, they do look like pictures of Ben! 

I am in serious trouble, if I can barely tell my kids apart in pictures now.  When I'm a grandma I'm going to be hopeless.  I'll be that old lady that keeps saying, "Now, this is a picture of your daddy.  Oh wait, nope, that's Uncle Ben.  Ok, this is a picture of your daddy.  Whoops, wrong again."  My poor grand kids!

So, here's a couple of examples.  See if you can tell who's who.  :o)

My Little Piece of Family History

My sister Susannah is our family's unofficial historian.  For several reasons, not the least of which is that she actually was a history major in college, but also because she loves keeping history, and she knows how to do it the right way.

She was scanning some old family photos from my dad's side of the family recently, and she found two matching little postcards stuck in them that my Grandma Helen had collected during her travels as an army nurse during WWII in Europe.  This was almost like finding gold.  Better than gold.

My grandmother died, before I was born, from complications of Multiple Sclerosis, and so I never got to meet her.  In this life anyway.  I think I knew her before I came, because she seems so familiar, but that's my own personal feeling, not anything solid. 

She was the one that was responsible for getting my dad's family to join the church.  When she was in Europe during the war she became friends with the general's wife that she served under, and they just happened to be LDS.  She learned about the church, but she came home, married my grandpa, and didn't ever talk  about it. 

However, she must kept what she learned in the back of her mind because one day, on the "spur of the moment", she arranged for them to stop in Nauvoo while on a family road trip vacation (my dad's family is from northern Illinois) and talk to the missionaries there.  And the rest is history. 

So I owe her, not only for the fantastic priesthood holder that my dad is, but also the life that I enjoy because of his membership in the church.  The fact that he met my mother at BYU, that I grew up with the gospel, that I met my husband in Provo, that my family enjoys the gospel, all goes back, in part, to her testimony, and being the impetus for their family to buck tradition and small-town opinion, and join "them weird Mormons."

For some silly reasons that aren't worth going into right now, our family has been largely left out of the history and keepsakes that have been passed around.  So when my sister found this postcard, she decided to snag them both and get them identically framed.  Archivally, of course.  And she sent me mine for my birthday.  AWESOME!!

So now we each have our own little piece of history hanging on the wall.  Something concrete that links us to our grandma, and her legacy, and to each other.

Happy Anniversary indeed!!!

Ok, ladies.  This is going to be one of those posts where you either think, "Awww, that is so great," or you think,"Awwww, why can't my husband do that kind of thing?"  But just don't get into any marital spats because of me, 'k?  Because I have got to seriously brag on my husband for a bit. 

In general, we don't have a fabulous track record with our anniversary.  And it's not Jeff's fault or anything, we just don't usually make it a big deal.  As a matter of fact, I have actually forgotten it before!  Although, to clarify, I knew that our anniversary was the 13th of August, but I didn't know that that particular Tuesday, or whatever, was our anniversary.  And since I forget what the date is on a regular basis anyway, that should come as a surprise to no one.

Anyway, I've been wanting to go somewhere overnight for our anniversary for a few years now, but it's never worked out, mostly because we don't have family in the area, so we don't have anyone to watch all of our kids at one time.  (Seriously, all you people with grandparents readily available really don't know how good you've got it.)  As a matter of fact, we haven't had a night away, just Jeff and me, since Jarom was a year old and we came out to North Carolina to go house hunting.

What I had really wanted to do was to go stay at the Renaissance hotel at North Hills, and go to dinner, and see a movie, etc., because it's all there, and we wouldn't be too far away.  Doesn't it sound fabulous?  But I had resigned myself to it not happening, because of the aforementioned "no family to watch the kids" wrinkle.

HOWEVER!!  Not only had Jeff been listening to me when I was wishing out loud that we could do this fun thing for our anniversary, but he actually took the whole thing in hand and arranged with our good friends who have 4 kids, just like us, all the same ages as our kids, to take our children, and he made the hotel reservation for us, as a surprise, all by himself!!!!

I know!!!! 

It really could not have been more fabulous!  We went to dinner at Firebirds, our favorite steakhouse, bar none, where we had a truly fantastic dinner (filet mignon, anyone?), and then we went to the last Harry Potter movie (yet another present from my sweetie), and after that, when the movie got out ofter midnight, we didn't have to make the long drive home, and then pay the babysitter, and then drive the babysitter home -  all we had to do was walk to the end of the "block" and go to our room!  It was awesome!!!

The next day we got to sleep in as late as we wanted, and then we actually went in to all the fancy shops and boutiques at North Hills that I would never ever go into with my kids.  And then, after we were done window shopping (because there was no way in heck that I was going to actually buy anything at those fancy boutiques.  One place had sequined sweaters for $497!!!  I kid you not!  And the clearance racks were still all over $200!   I was blown away by the senseless materialism) we went to JC Penney where they were having a fantastic sale, and got Jeff some work shirts (all more than 50% off), and me a couple of necklaces (also all on major sale - nothing more than $10).  Now that's my idea of clearance.

To finish out the day we had linner at Bonefish Grill, which I had never been to before, but I will be going again.  They do really good seafood, and I had grilled shrimp and sea scallops with roasted asparagus, which was all incredible.  Just like the weekend!

So please, don't hate me because my husband is awesome.  :o)