Friday, August 26, 2011

More Jesse and a few Extra Bits

I know I may have mentioned this a time or two before, but I love and adore this little stinker of mine so so much!


Yes, this is the general method of hair management we have adopted in dealing with our boys – let it grow far too long and shaggy and then, shave it all off. The difference is always so dramatic at first that I hardly know who they are and have to hug them lots and lots extra.

I know, I know, the little fella breaks more things than any child probably ever has, but he truly is just so intent upon figuring how anything and everything comes apart and how it can be put back together. There is nothing in the world he would rather do than help Mike fix something, and lately, he has been especially charming. He has actually, finally, taken to occasionally playing with toys – mostly things he can use to create with (tinkertoys, blocks, etc). It is so fun to hear his creative little mind at work as he tells me about the chicken coop, sprinkler, or firework he is building. He even does naughty things with toys – for example, the other day he was holding a cylindrical shaped tinkerytoy when I heard him say, as he twisted an imaginary lid off the top, “the lids comes off, the juice spills (he dumped his imaginary juice on the floor), now put the lid back on”. Funny boy.

Also, despite his mischievous ways, he has so many little things that make him extra dear to me. He seems to have all kinds of issues with allergies, rashes, etc., he also has bouts of rather severe wheeziness due to asthma. He is rather terrified of many many things, and constantly needs to be reassured about any sound he hears (I’ll even hear him going about the house reassuring himself: “oh, that’s just the fridge”, “that’s just some water in the dishwasher”, etc.); and there was maybe nothing quite so terrifying for him initially as his nebulizer. He sobbed the first few times we used it, then got brave enough to simply sit there – very still and very scared. Now, he is finally getting a little better about it (probably thanks to Mike letting him nebulize his sock monkey during most sessions). Because it is a steroid treatment, I have tried to avoid giving it to him while pregnant (he only needs it occasionally when his coughing and wheezing get bad), so Mike and even the kids have been good at helping do it. It makes me want to cry and hug him and makes me love him even more when I see him nervously but bravely submit to “his medicine”.


In other news: here are two pictures from the rodeo we went to this summer:


And yes, just as I thought it might, summer whirled its little self to a close. Here everybody is for the traditional front porch back to school picture before heading off for the first day:


Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Religion and Summer’s End

Penny just said, “Mom, one of Daisy’s friends said one of our chickens was fat. . . . But she’s still nice. . . . But WE don’t say that.”
Me: “Right.”
Penny: “And we don’t drink coffee.”
Me: “Right.”

There you have it. For my non Mormon friends out there, that pretty well sums up our religion: we don’t call people fat (or chickens even – just to be safe), and we don’t drink coffee.

In other news. Looking at these little pictures of Goldie and Penny twirling the other day made me rather sad that summer is coming to a close.


They are back to school a week from today and while I think we will settle into a good school routine, I really will miss our carefree summer time schedule and all the time it allows for simply just being kids. Playing in water, playing games, doing crafts . . . and twirling.

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Luckily, even the onset of school won’t put a stop to all of the “kid” things that happen around here. For example, this type of thing will still be happening daily:


Whew. I probably couldn’t handle too drastic of a change!

Friday, August 12, 2011


Remember long ago when I wrote my post of frequently asked questions? No? Well, never mind. I remember, and I’m doing one again. Only, to be honest, these questions are not all frequently asked. Some might be. Others have maybe never been asked. Perhaps I should title this post IAQs? Infrequently asked questions? Hmm. Yes, I probably should.

FAQs, IAQs and NAQs (never asked questions)

How far along are you and how are you feeling?

I’m 33 weeks and I feel . . . kind of crummy to be honest. I say that hesitantly because I know I have been blessed with relatively easy pregnancies, but honestly, I keep thinking, “Is this always the way I’ve felt during the last two months of pregnancy? Surely not.” Maybe I’ve just forgotten. I just feel so big and really, not very attractive. 026This picture is a lie. It was taken with in the last week or two, but the angle makes me appear to be much much smaller than I am. I am only putting it here because I like lying pictures when they lie to my advantage. And I feel kind of gross just now.

I’ve got a lot of back pain that I don’t recall having so much with other pregnancies. In the early mornings this baby of mine starts rolling and punching and kicking like his career plan is that of a stunt man . . . or . . . I don’t know . . . gymnastic ninja, and somehow, combined with an early morning empty stomach it makes me feel rather nauseous. I keep feeling like surely I’m at the very end and should be going into labor any day now . . . only there are still seven weeks. That sounds like closer to seven years. And now I know other pregnancies must have felt less uncomfortable at the end because I remember typing a post when I was at 32 weeks with Jesse and saying how eight weeks seemed like such a short amount of time.

Still, are you glad for a little more time before baby?

Well, yes. I’m sorry for all my complaining. I really probably still feel better than most people get to feel at this stage. I’m still running after all, and the timing of baby’s coming is actually rather perfect. It will allow me to finish out summer fun with my kids, get them adjusted to their new year of school, and have a few weeks of less kids at home in the day so I can do some forced nesting.

Forced nesting?

Yes. I think that gung ho nesting drive is supposed to come all on its own at the end of pregnancy. Instinct. But my instincts have proven rather faulty in times past, so I can’t rely on its coming. Instead, I force myself, against my will, to begin getting everything in order. I dread it a bit because by everything, I mean something close to everything that might ever need done . . . which is a lot. For some reason, I always think that a new baby means I will never get anything done again and it must all get done before.

Enough of your end of pregnancy whining. You make it sound like having a baby is the worst.

No I don’t! Or maybe I do. But I don’t mean to. Truth is, I’m more excited than ever to have my little tiny stinker here because any worries I’ve felt over lack of sleep and stress of a newborn are now officially offset by my not wanting to be pregnant and my thinking how great it will be to have my period of forced nesting completed. And did I mention, back when I was still complaining, that I can’t breathe? I’m sure I must be because I’m not fainting, but it feels so hard to fill my lungs sometimes.

OK, but moving on. What about your other kids? Has Jesse said or done anything cool lately?

Naturally. Yesterday he told me how monkey was “being trouble,” and a few days earlier he pulled out all my curling irons and things and clamped them one by one onto poor monkey’s head because monkey was “getting ready for church”. Oh, and last night he spent a long time pretending our bread box was a grill and he was grilling hot dogs. But, and this isn’t quite moving on from baby, he has also made me wonder a wee bit how he will adapt to this new brother of his. Every time I mention the fun of a new baby, he shouts angry things. Here was our most recent conversation:

Me: Won’t it be fun when we have a new baby at our house?
Jesse: NO WAY HOSE-WAY! I wanna hit him!

How’s that for lovely? (And I don’t know where he first heard “no way Jose” but he pronounces it “hose-way” and yells “no way hose-way” to things all day long.)

Also, I was talking to Abe and Daisy the other day and said, “Hey kids, let’s read a little Harry Potter,” when Jesse shouted angrily, “NO! I’m sick for Harry Potter!” I’m sure he meant sick “of” Harry Potter. Still, it sounded awesome.

But, for all his being sick of things and no way hose-waying, he is rather sweet. One of my favorite things is that he actually has little endearing nicknames he uses. For example, he and I both occasionally call each other “Nut Nut”, but it is rather sweet that he only thinks to call me Nut Nut when he is being most loving like at bedtime when he will say, “I love you Nut Nut!” and since Daisy occasionally has played “kitties” with him, he refers to her now and then as “Meow Meow”.

How about that Daisy of yours? We haven’t heard much about her in awhile. Is she worth her salt?

I’m not actually sure what that worth-their-salt phrase means, but I’m certain that Daisy is most likely very much worth her salt. IMG_7657_edited-1

I’ve been thinking of her a lot lately and of what a little role she plays in our family – of what an awful, gaping and irreplaceable hole she would leave if anything were ever to happen to her. She’s just so much a little of everything. While Abe has often complained about no brother his age, he really is so lucky to have a sister who is not much more than a year his junior. They played together so so much during their littler years, and even now, I wonder what he would do with out her: she being the one who is old enough to appreciate and participate in the things he likes to do – things like Monopoly and Yahtzee that the smaller kids are a little young to follow too well. And when we go hiking or camping, it is Daisy who helps him put up a tent or scrambles up steep rocks exploring with him.

At the same time, she still is little girl enough to play things like stuffed animals or Barbies with Goldie and Penny, and while she can be 100% one of the “little girls” she also occasionally takes on the role of the very grown up older sister – assisting the other two in crafts, getting Penny lunch or down to bed, etc., and she seems very much to enjoy doing that sort of thing.

I don’t know how life could be right at all with out this little girl filling so many roles for all of us.

All right, so your kids are just great. We’ve always known that. What about you? If you weren’t raising kids and were out involved in some sort of career, what would you like to be doing?

Well, it was always going to be Biology, wasn’t it? I truly would love love to be a Biology professor. I love teaching, but mostly only teaching things that I love and find fascinating, and to be honest, I think I would be rather good at it. I worked as a supplemental instructor for one of my professors in college – holding study classes for beginning students, etc. and I felt like I was able to really help people grasp concepts that felt totally foreign to them originally. BUT, do you know what I might find myself doing if I were doing something else? Maybe I’d be a makeup artist. Is that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard? It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard to be sure, but I really kind of adore makeup. I have no real knowledge nor any care particularly about if I am doing anything correctly or not. I just like it and like playing around with it. A new eye shadow excites me about as much as any new article of clothing ever could.

A few weeks ago, just for kicks, or because I’m crazy, I snapped a little picture of my eyes every day for a few days. I was going to write down what I did that day . . . for anyone who thought, “eye make up is fuuuuuun to play with”, but then I don’t know what I did with what I wrote down.


And now, I regret to inform you there can be no further questions of any sort. My back hurts. Oh yah, I’m stopping all this whining. Still. It does. Perhaps more later? Perhaps.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

It’s a Lucky Thing Having an Older Brother

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This was a quick picture I snapped last summer at the mall. I generally avoid the mall with five kids, but we had to pick up something for Mike’s birthday. Just before leaving, the kids begged to go up the escalator. Then, of course, Penny was terrified to go back down, and there I was, at the bottom with Jesse in his stroller. So, Abe to the rescue.


And here we are, a year later at the Zoo – with Penny stuck on some little wooden horse she’d climbed on. I must admit, I rely on “Abe to the rescue” quite often.

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