Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Due at the Same time

I want to sing, "One of these things is not like the others," but in actuality we are all due within 1 day of each other. I'm due June 11th and Alisha and Sherrie are due June 10th. Alisha took these pictures, she does a fabulous job don't you think? This picture was about 10 pds ago for me.

I can't believe how big the C-clan is. When I was counting how many people would be in the picture for Alisha I couldn't believe that we numbered 19!

This is my favorite picture. I can't believe we'll add two more in June!

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Absolutely Nothing Accomplished

Laundry: Uncheck
Cleaning out play room: Uncheck
Getting ready to paint play room: Uncheck
Floor Scrubbed: Uncheck
Blog updated: Uncheck (mostly)
Story written for Standard-Examiner: Uncheck
"Hunger Games" by Suzanne Collins Read: Check
Wow! What an awesome book. I put this on hold at the library 2 weeks ago and my request came through today. I picked it up this morning and thanks to a long nap by Hannah (she was up super late last night, since we went to Bri and Cyndi's for dinner, and now she is at her door crying about not being sleepy) and a birthday party Kenzie went to (not to mention a patient and understanding husband), I was able to read it today. My heart aches for Peeta. I wish Katniss had purer motives, but I love how she is growing and examining her feelings. Ohh Peeta. I wish you didn't love Katniss so much, so innocently. 
I liked this book so much I just bought it and the sequel at amazon.com. I completely and wholeheartedly recommend this book for the suspense, action, romance and interesting dystopian themes.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Repressed Tears

The theme of this week is repressed tears. Mine of course, not the girls. They never repress their tears unless I am promising that they will never see their pink bear/pillow/ariel doll again if they don't STOP CRYING RIGHT NOW. Now that I am pregnant I cry a lot, and not just over Olympic commercials with little kids in them. I cry out of self-pity, which is not at all charming or endearing.

For the sake of maintaining friends, my sanity, and what little of my image is left after walking around looking like a hobo with a basketball in her shirt, I sometimes try to repress these tears. And this has been a great repressed tear week.

Let's start out with repressed tear incident #1:  Daylight Savings. Let me get this straight. Some IDIOT thought of this idea so he could collect insects. Thank you Mr. Insect Collector (This is according to Wikipedia, which we all know is the source of ultimate truth.).

Anyway, the Sunday of Daylight Savings Time Mike had an early morning meeting. This inspired him to make breakfast for us when he got home. But then, this is where the repressed tears enter in, he woke us all up. As I sat down to eat my delicious eggs and pancake breakfast, two tears may have squeezed out of my tired eyes. I tried to pass off my squinty eyes and grunting as sheer joy that I was eating such a nice breakfast prepared by someone other than myself, but I'm not sure Mike bought it. Especially when I crawled back into bed right after I ate.

Repressed Tear Incident #2: Daylight Savings got my week off to a wonderful start. Besides losing an hour of sleep and being all discombobulated (what a great word.) by the strange new world of daylight, I got a cold. On Monday morning I heard the girls wake up at 7:30 (which mind you, is still 6:30 a.m. in the perfect-world-where-Daylight-Savings-only-occurs-if-you-have-committed-a-crime-against-children-and-deserve-a-special-kind-of-hell.) Mike has already left for work, so I stumble blearily into the girl's room and say, in a cheery morning voice, "Girls. It is way too early to be awake and I feel like toast that has been left out all day. Go back to bed and let me sleep. Please."  I think this cheery voice might have been accompanied by a small sob of self-pity. Then I stumbled back to my room, shut the door and fell into a coma.
At 8:40 a.m. I woke up again, still feeling like toast, but a little bit fresher. I walked out and Kenzie and Hannah were sitting in the front room reading books. Dressed. Wowsa! Kenzie said matter-of-factly, "We've already eaten breakfast." At that moment, I felt the same feeling I do when I'm looking at them asleep in their beds--the perfect, darling angels.

Repressed Tears Incident #3: So as the week progresses, my stuffy nose progresses to a sinus infection of the third degree. After a night of wondering if my face is eating itself from the bones outward, I go to the doctor who gives me an antibiotic, tells me to buy some Claritin and Sudafed and sends me on my merry way. I head to Walgreens to fill the prescription and buy my drugs. At the counter, they ask for my ID, because, due to meth-heads you have to buy Sudafed from behind the counter with an ID. When the girl checks my license, she clucks. "Oh it's expired. Hey, do we take expired licenses for Sudafed?" she asks some other pharmacist guy.

"Oh no," he shakes his head as if I, the pregnant lady with the stuffy nose must be some convict ready to cook up some meth as soon as I get home. Because what kind of person lets their license expire and tries to buy Sudafed with it?

"Sorry," says the girl and puts the Sudafed away. "Better get this license taken care of. My boyfriend just got a $120 ticket for driving with an expired license." 

At first I feel tears (again with the self-pity. Seriously). I avoid eye contact and buy my prescription. Then I feel ANGER. I have to quickly leave the store before I vault over the counter, grab the Sudafed and punch the pharmacy people.  Nevermind that I have never punched anyone and that my already lacking vaulting skills are seriously hampered by my large stomach.  

So this has been a week of self-pity. I must have oozed enough self-pity that my neighbors and my mom felt sorry for me. Jessica watched the girls two days in a row, my mom brought me dinner and Melissa brought me dinner too. I really have been taken care of. I am feeling a little better and once the Sudafed (that Mike bought me) kicks in I can breathe.

So, no more whining, and I mean it. (Anybody, want a peanut?)

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

A pregnant woman's daily schedule

4:30 a.m. Wake up. Use the bathroom.
7:00 a.m. Wake up again. Use the bathroom. Because while you were sleeping somehow you managed to consume more liquid and it must come out RIGHT NOW.
8:00 a.m. Tell child if they don't get off the one toilet in the entire house they will regret it for the rest of their lives. Sing "God Bless the USA" for flushable toilets.
10:00 a.m. Sit down to read some stories to the girls after the chores are done. Realize that you have to go RIGHT NOW. Heft yourself up and pee a teaspoon worth.
11:00 a.m. Lunch time, but only after a potty break. During lunch your children will request at least 3 needed items that aren't on the table. Every time you stand up you have to use the potty.
2:00 p.m. Quiet time at last. You've been holding it for awhile trying to get the kids settled. As you go to relieve yourself, a child that takes 40 minutes to poo will be just barely getting on the pot. Try to smile.
2:40 p.m. Yell, "For the love of everything Holy, are you done in there?" Then rush in to use the potty while they are still putting on their pants.
4:00 p.m. Take the kids outside. Realize, surprise, you have to pee. Tell them to not run in the road and dash as fast as your pregnant self can to the toilet, worrying the whole time that the almost-three-year-old will surely die/be kidnapped while you are gone.
5:00 p.m. Spend more quality time in the bathroom.
6:00 p.m. Forbid the kids to leave the table until dinner is over. Leave two times yourself to use the bathroom.
7:00 p.m. From here until bed time use the bathroom every 15 minutes. Even when you've just gone, you'll still need to go.
10:00 p.m Use the bathroom one last time before prayers and bed.
10:05 p.m. Role out of bed just one more time to use the bathroom. Trickle, trickle.
Midnight-Morning: Every time you shift your weight, because if you only lay on your right side something horrible will happen to the baby, realize you have to pee. Stumble blindly to the bathroom to be relieved for the next 10 minutes, at least.

The toilet and I are getting well-acquainted these days.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Go Hannah

Smart Hannah. Right before bed tonight she said, "Look at my 'S' mommy." I was surprised as she pointed to a little 'S' on the magnetic drawing board. Then she said, "'S' is for Hannah."
"No silly," I said, "S is for Stephanie. H is for Hannah."
"H. H. Here's an H," said Hannah and she drew out a nice H. I was surprised."You make two straight lines and then another," she told me and she proceeded to draw two more 'H's.

Mike claims he didn't teach her. I didn't teach her. Should we blame Kenzie or the Educational movies we watch? :)

 Here is Hannah's drawing of our family.  And yes, I never wash her face.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

A Tale of Lost Opportunities

Steph, coming home from church RS Meeting,  "Hey babe! I saved you a cupcake. Doesn't it look good?"
Mike, "Oh thanks! It's too late to eat it now."
Mike doesn't take the cupcake to work. It sits on the counter all day the next day. Pink sprinkles, frosting and yellow cake. Stephanie eats it. Mmmm. It is delicious. Not as good as the three chocolate cupcakes she ate the night before, but still good.
Mike, coming home from work, "Hey are there any cupcakes left?"

Steph, feeling a definite need for chocolate, "Hey babe, when we stop to get gas at Smith's I'm going to run in and buy some Cadbury Mini Eggs. Just drop me off at the front and I'll meet you at the pumps." (There aren't even any chocolate chips in the house, since they haven't gone on sale for a long time.),
"No, you'll regret it."
"No I won't. Just drop me off. You're really not going to? C'mon. I just need some chocolate. They're on sale."
"No, because then I'll want to eat some. Just don't buy any." Mike drives past the store and over to the pump, without stopping.
"If I ignore my craving it just gets worse. I'm going to walk over and buy some."
"Don't do it."
"I'll meet you in a minute." Stephanie skips to the store and contemplates buying 10 bags. Good thing she only has $3 cash.
Back at the car Steph rips open the bag and tells herself that she'll only eat 10.
15 Mini Eggs later,
"Hey Mike, do you want some?"
The next day, Stephanie separates the leftover eggs into tens and puts them in little plastic baggies, trying to encourage herself to eat only in moderation.
She has a lot of empty little sacks sitting on her computer desk when Mike comes home.
"Hey do you want something to eat?" he asks Stephanie as he wanders to the kitchen.
"No thanks."
"What do we have in here?" says Mike, searching the cupboards.
"Salsa, chips, granola bars, I don't know."
"Hey, are there any Cadbury Mini Eggs left?"

Moral of the Story: Don't leave food with the pregnant woman.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Mermaid Repair

Today I reached a new level of sophistication and domestic goddess-ness.

See this beautiful mermaid? She is the prized possession of Mckenzie.  She earned this fabulous dollar-store mermaid after many difficult days of obedience. She had to be kind to Hannah, not yell at me and do all these awful things like eat her food and pick up her toys. It took her almost the whole time we were in Alabama (6 weeks) to earn it. She has loved it for almost a year now and the beautiful shiny tail was ripping and hanging on by a thread. 
So, since I was making hooded towels for baby gifts, I thought I would try to sew this tail back on. Success!
I feel so accomplished.

If you ever feel like I don't love you, I hope you look at this picture and know that I do.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Girls and the Priesthood-- A conversation with my 5 year old

On the way to preschool this morning Kenzie and I had a deep Mormon doctrine discussion:

"Mom, who will be the next prophet when Pres. Monson dies?"

I begin wracking my brain for his name. I can see his face. I can hear his voice. He has glasses and hair.

"Umm, I don't know. The man who's next in line. But Pres. Monson won't die for a long time. I think."

"Will it be Jesus and Heavenly Father?" she asks, playing with a small picture of Jesus her Primary teacher gave her last week.

"No sweetie. The prophet is the man who speaks on earth for Jesus and Heavenly Father."
"Mom, why can't girls be prophets?"

Uh-oh. Cue shakiness in testimony and issues I have. I try to keep it simple and neutral. She is after all, 5.

"Well, girls don't have the priesthood,"  I say.

"Well," she asks innocently, as we pull into her friend's driveway to pick him up for preschool, "Why don't they have the priesthood?"

I briefly wonder if I should talk about motherhood, the temple, or project some belief that someday when the whole truth is revealed, it will be different. But I don't necessarily believe that someday women will get the priesthood. I don't want the priesthood. Yes, sometimes I question the whole "males only" thing and I wonder, but the conclusion that I mostly come to is "I don't understand." And my next conclusion is that I am okay with not understanding. I understand that God loves me and I am comfortable with my relationship with Him. I like being LDS. I don't always agree with the way everything goes down, but I love the doctrines and truths that I have found in the LDS church.

So I take a deep breath, push down all my emotions and insecurities and say simply,  "That's not the way the church is organized."

"Mom," Kenzie says, "What can I be when I grow up? Will you please just guess and tell me?" 
(I often tell her I don't know and the only thing I can do for her is to make something up.)

We are waiting for her friend Trais in his driveway as the conversation continues.

"Well Kenz," I say, choosing to broker in dreams and ignoring that I just said she can't be a prophet, and why in heaven's name would you ever want something like that? "You can be anything you want to. What do you want to be?"  I hold my breath and hope she doesn't say something crazy.

"I want to be a real, real live princess!"  Oh, well then. That's much more realistic than prophet anyway. I begin explaining that being a princess isn't all fun and games.

When Trais climbs into the car she asks him if he will be her Prince and live in her castle with her.And Trais asks me what karate guys do.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Best Commercial Ever

"The tickets are now DIAMONDS!"

Monday, March 1, 2010

It's a Never Ending Birthday!

I hope that when you read that title you started singing and thought about extremely large flying dogs. If not, I'm sorry for you.
*As a complete sidenote here, Mike and I recently re-watched "Never Ending Story." Oh! Sad little graphics and poor little story line. I have vowed never to re-watch cherished childhood movies. It destroys the memories. Now, on to the post:

Kenzie turned 5 this month and got to celebrate a never-ending birthday!  My favorite quote from her, "Mom I don't want to go to kindergarten! I don't want to go!" This quickly escalates into tears and thrashing.

She's worried about the 'every day!' thing and the 'I won't get to eat lunch with you' thing (not true. I still have to fix her lunch that she will refuse to eat until coerced), and she may be worried because I mentioned that she had to get kindergarten shots. I should have called them "Disney Princess Shots, Especially Ariel." Then maybe she would hate Ariel as much as she hates the idea of kindergarten.  Anyway, she's excited to be older, but not so thrilled about the idea of school next year.

Here is how we celebrated her birthday:

First, we had a tea party at my parent's house (due to the fact that two family members and one almost family member are allergic to The Cat).

We don't really drink tea, but we did have "pink frothy delight." (Pink sherbet in cherry 7-up, mmm.) I hope Kenzie understands how much I love her--I put it in a punch bowl.  Sophie and Aunt Alisha came, Aunt Shaelynn and her boyfriend!!! Ali and my parents. It was delightful. Kenzie was spoiled with hair things and make up from Sophie, a baby Ariel doll (Booo! Hiss!) from Aunt Shaelynn, new clothes, Polly Pockets and  jewelry box from her Grandparents, and Ali forever won her heart with a Tinkerbell fairy doll and make-up set. (let it be noted that he color coordinated the gift bag to match his present.)

That night, the Grandparents C, Aunt Laurie and Uncle Jared, Aunt Stacie, Uncle Josh and Aunt Sherrie, Kandelyn, Koy and Jenna came over for cupcakes. The numerous amount of candles is for me too, since we celebrated my b-day too. Kenzie was even more spoiled with ring pops and a new Fancy Nancy book from Kandelyn and co. and a new Cinderella doll and a school scrapbook from her Grandma and Grandpa. 

On her real birthday, we were at Disneyland. We didn't take her there for her birthday, it just so happened that the best days to go for us were over her birthday. We went with Dave and Summer and had a marvelous time. That pink princess cup is from them.  See this cake? The hotel left it in our room when we mentioned to the front desk that it was her birthday. Wow. I'm going to link to the Anaheim Residence Inn Marriott, because I'm sure after reading about this cake, you will want to plan to stay there.

I had planned to take her bday presents with us and have her open them there, but they were forgotten (notice how I am using passive tense to suggest that really, it wasn't my fault). So. . .

When we got home she opened her new Book of Mormon and scripture case! She's wanted one so she can sing "Scripture Power" in Primary. Because apparently, you can't sing it unless you thrust a Book of Mormon into the air during the chorus. We tried to find a tiny bible, but have yet to find one the same size. When we do we'll add it to her collection.

Now that I've written all this, I feel excessive and exhausted. I'm going to have to come up with a better strategy for birthdays and parties, something like only celebrating birthdays every 5 years. :)

Kenzie's Birthday Scrapblog Link