Welcome to the Holidays

I hope you all enjoyed your Thanksgiving!

Paige kept saying, "I have to eat my turkeys." (Everything is plural to her at the moment). Well, who wouldn't love turkey if you thought it was chocolate pie topped with real whip cream and shaved chocolate!

Awesome Thanksgiving Story #2

Twelve years ago, I lived in New York. I had finished two years of college and had run out of money. I figured that if I was a nanny, and I cleaned a few houses on the side while the kids were at school, I could save up enough for the last two years of school and make enough to play a little. It was a great decision. Once I got there, I found a job for Lisa as well.

Even though I worked for truly horrible people (but I loved my boys), Lisa worked for truly wonderful people. She was surrounded by one of the most generous families I've ever met. The Grandpa of her little boy was a VP for Macy's Department Store. With Thanksgiving approaching, he helped us get into the parade. We decided to be Balloon Handlers. When we were filling out our application, we came to the section where we had to give very detailed measurements of our body. (Every balloon is assigned a color. All the balloon handlers for that balloon wear matching jumpsuits.) We decided to add a few inches to all of our measurements because we knew it was going to be freezing and we wanted to make sure that we accounted for plenty of sweatshirts, coats, scarves, long underwear, etc.

Apparently, the parade organizers already account for all that stuff. When we arrived as the warehouse Thanksgiving morning, we walked over to find that our brown jumpsuits were enormous! We picked them up off the hanger and just started laughing. I am a pretty short person. Lisa is taller, but not significantly. Seriously, the parade planners probably received our applications and thought two 6 feet 2 inch behemoths were volunteering. They probably didn't assign our balloon as many handlers because they thought that we could do the job of three average-sized people. Once we stopped laughing, we walked out of the warehouse with the crotch of the jumpsuits past our knees and the arms rolled up to our shoulders. We looked ridiculous, but we were already having a blast!

We were assigned to the Peter Rabbit balloon - quite possibly the most lame balloon in the entire parade. You see small children screaming for Spiderman and Dora, but nobody cheers like crazed Beatles fans when they see Peter Rabbit coming down the street. Plus, we soon realized that balloon handling is quite difficult and actually a lot of work. There was quite a bit of wind that day. Wind is brutal in New York City. It gets trapped between those buildings and just rips it's way along the streets. Makes your eyes water, your nose run, and giant balloons can easily crash into streetlamps and traffic lights. We were given a strict lecture about NOT letting this happen.

The parade actually starts up by the Museum of Natural History and works its way through the streets until it reaches Harold Square where it is filmed (at least in years past). So, what you see on TV has actually been going on for a few hours. We were supposed to keep the balloon down until we reached the television cameras where we let it float up for a few minutes. Each balloon has a director that keeps his/her eyes on the balloon the entire time, shouting out instructions to people to pull down or let up so we don't cause any damage.

After a few minutes of this, our balloon director asked for a few volunteers to carry our Peter Rabbit Banner (it just keeps getting better). Lisa and I eagerly volunteered. Then, our director taught us a cheer:

Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, Pete

Beatrix Potter is really neat!

At this point, we are oozing with awsomeness. But to make us even more cool, we made up our own little dance to go along with the cheer.

We had a blast! Giant jumpsuits and all.

But the very best part, by far, was the end. As soon as we passed the TV cameras, we turned a corner. We had to get the balloon down as quickly as possible since there were marching bands, floats, and more balloons behind us. In order to do this, the balloon is brought down to street level, and all of the balloon handlers and other volunteers lay on it to press out all the helium. The balloon directors and other parade officials are extremely serious about this entire process. But, honestly, how serious can you take people when they are talking in that squeaky, high voice.

There were probably 50 people throwing their bodies on top of this giant balloon and other people running around the balloon with headsets and clipboards shouting instructions and pointing to areas where the balloon was still bulging. And all 50+ people were overcome with massive amounts of helium. Lisa and I were practically useless. We were rolling around on this balloon, laughing so hard we had tears rolling down our cheeks. It really doesn't matter how "official" and "serious" someone makes their face look, if they sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks, it is impossible to take them seriously.

Good times with a great sister!

Awesome Thanksgiving Story #1

So in preparation for Thanksgiving, my mom and sisters and I divided up the Thanksgiving dishes (I think we are all responsible for 3-4 items, which would bring the total to 16 - more people than are actually attending Thanksgiving). I had to make my salad tonight because it has to chill overnight, so I decided to just do the bulk of my cooking since I was already in the kitchen.

One of my responsibilities is the stuffing. I put Kade in the Bumbo on top of the counter while I chopped veggies. I even handed him a rather long stalk of celery. He put it in his mouth the first time and made the most horrible face. Since he is only six months old, he frequently dropped the celery. He got to the point that I just had to put it in his hand and he made the horrible face (he didn't even have to taste it). After that, I just gave it back to torture him because I thought it was funny.

Eventually, I handed him a red, plastic cup to play with instead of the celery. I was just going about my business, making preparations, when I started on the onion. About half-way through my chopping, I look up and my poor baby is not crying, but his eyes are bright red with tears streaming and his nose is running.

Oops!

I'm thankful that he's such a good sport and that he and Spencer are such happy, content babies (most of the time). It has been a HUGE blessing this year. I am truly grateful.

My greatest blessings of this past year (many pounds ago):

I remember being at Thanksgiving last year. We were with Greg's family. I knew I was pregnant, but didn't know they were twins. I also hadn't told anyone yet. I remember Macy being so bored because her girl cousins were taking such a long time arriving. We are the last to have children on his side. Our kids are the youngest. I remember thinking that this poor baby inside my belly won't have anyone to play with when we are with Greg's side. Little did I know that God had already taken that worry off my plate. I'm thankful that Spencer and Kade will always have each other.

Just So You Know

St. George, Utah: The perfect escape from November snow in Salt Lake City.

And it was absolutely perfect! The weather could not have been more beautiful.

We spent two afternoons at the pool. We had it completely to ourselves. On the second day, we were sitting in the hot tub, enjoying the warmth and watching the kids jump in and out of the pool. Kade was asleep in the stroller.

I looked over and saw his little feet kicking and moving and announced: "Looks like Kade decided to wake up."

Macy immediately jumped out of the water and ran to check on her "buds" (as she calls him).

Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks and very carefully started tiptoeing back to the hot tub.

"Uh, Dad. There's a spider."

We look over and a tarantula had crawled out from under the stroller.

Greg bravely saved my baby from the giant, hairy monster. First, he attempted to use a frisbee, but as the beast reared up, he quickly decided on a tool with handle - a long handle. He grabbed the net hanging on the side of the pool and nudged it (from a much safer, 10-foot distance) toward the rock wall.

Everyone was mesmerized.

We spent the next half hour watching the creature crawl up the wall, fall down, and eventually into a small crevice. As far as capturing the kids attention, it was better than any movie or video game.

* * *

While we were on our mini vacation, we spent some time at Fiesta Fun. Getting there was definitely a fiesta, and in the end, pretty dang funny. We used the GPS to guide us to our destination and ended up in the middle of a trailer park community for "Over 55". As we were stopped in the corner, surrounded by immaculate white trailers, fake grass, and little garden gnomes, Greg said he felt like Michael Scott ("The Office") who drove into a river because the GPS told him to. I haven't laughed so hard in a long time.

Despite the confusing prices, and the even more confusing young teenagers running the joint, the kids had a blast on the go carts, and the guys took full advantage of a broken batting cage. To our luck, it never shut off. After hundreds of balls, and a few blisters (I forgot to take off my wedding ring) it seemed a shame to walk away. We had fun.

As we were buckling our crew into the car (takes us a while), I witnessed a family exit the Fun Center and walk to the car. It was a dad with his three children. The oldest child (probably 9 or 10 years old) was walking next to him. She was pitching a major fit! She was sobbing, begging, whining - all at once. The two younger children were skipping happily behind. Suddenly, the dad stopped, turned to his oldest child, and very calmly said, "I am never taking you anywhere ever again in your entire life...Just so you know." Then he calmly got into his car.

We have been kindred spirits ever since.

What It's Like to Be the 4th and 5th Children

*Amusement provided by Paige and Tae.

**Kade in the football shirt, sitting up. Spencer in the stripes, on his tummy, sucking his thumb.

The Naked Tree: Part Two

A couple of other things that have disappeared along with Summer/Fall:

• My Hair: I am losing it by the handfuls several times a day. It is everywhere! Pretty soon, you'll see little hair sprouting all over my head. After I had Austin, my sister said, "Oh, I see you cut bangs." I started crying. "No," I explained. "My hair is just growing back."

• Paige's Manners: She used to be so very polite and darling. But, she is getting closer to age 3 and farther away from age 2. Therefore, she is forgetting how to speak kindly and learning how to demand and torture. I still adore her, but it is so sad to see my sweetheart turn into a little Stinkerpot.

• My Newborns: Spencer and Kade are no longer helpless little newborns. They are nearly sitting up, they love their Exersaucer, and Baby Einstein can capture their attention for an entire half hour. Kade loves to jump, and they are both little talkers. They are growing up so, so, so fast!

• Sleepless Nights: My boys are officially sleeping through the night. I have hesitated actually saying it out loud for fear that I would jinx the blessing. But, it has been two or three weeks now, and they both eat anywhere from 9:00-10:30 at night and sleep until 6:30 or 7:00 in the morning. I LOVE them!!!

• Macy's Hair: We spent the weekend in St. George. I think that there was a bit too much chlorine in the swimming pool. Macy's blond locks turned bright green and completely fried. I have washed and over-conditioned, but the green is here to stay. We had no choice but to trim a few inches off the end.

The Naked Tree

We lost our peach tree to the giant wind storm in August. The main branch snapped in half. We decided to ignore it for a few months. The birds and the wasps were in heaven. Greg commented that our neighborhood had the fattest, happiest birds in town. A couple weeks ago, Greg trimmed the tree and this is what was left. The naked tree. It just looks so exposed and vulnerable. I am tempted to put a coat on it, perhaps a scarf and mittens just to protect it from the elements.

The harsh reality is that I can't always protect the things I love. It leaves me feeling like our little tree: exposed and vulnerable.

Greg and I have all these little kids. I find it interesting that they spend the majority of their time trying to be "grown up." They beg for a later bedtime, protest taking a nap, salivate at the thought of earning money, desperately want to walk to a friend's house "by myself" or use a public restroom without any assistance. Macy constantly begs me for "just a little make-up," and my girls raid my closet to wear my clothes and shoes at least twice a week. Paige asks me daily, "Am I big?" And the answer has to be "Yes" or she adamantly protests. Austin eagerly talks about the days when he can drive, and even my babies seem to want to do everything their siblings do. Greg and I are constantly telling them to slow down! When I check on my kids before I go to bed, I find myself running my fingers through their hair and begging them...pleading with them...to just enjoy being a kid. I whisper in their ears while they sleep contently, "Just relax. Don't be in such a rush to grow up." Being an adult is tough. The problems and trials are so much harder than they were ten or fifteen years ago. Reality is not an easy pill to swallow. People can be so cruel; life can be so harsh. Sometimes, I long to crawl into bed with my sleeping babes and just go back to that time of innocence.

When I looked at my tree this morning, I saw something interesting: a little leaf, right on the very top, still green - still clinging to life. Every November, I watch the world around me drain of color. Everything seems desolate, lifeless, and incredibly brown. But every Spring, the world rejuvenates and the tulips, blossoms, and green grass provide hope again. I guess we just have to hold on and have faith that peace, joy, happiness, and color will come back after the dark, barren times.

I believe that they will.

Pop-Up Halloween

The Nasty Web of Selfishness

Sometimes, I can be a brat. I have been a brat for a few weeks now. I even went "on strike" last Monday. On Tuesday, Macy whispered to her dad, "I think Mom forgot that she is on strike." I laughed...in private of course. Because a brat can never let other people see that they made her happy. I think a mix of stress, exhaustion, hormones, expectations, and self-pity created a nasty bomb that exploded in some serious self-loathing and extreme selfishness and snottiness at our house. And it exploded all over my husband.

I am so very sorry.

Then, I got the flu.

I pointed to heaven and told God, "Okay. I think I understand. Things can always be much, much worse." To think I felt overwhelmed when I had a healthy body. With the aches and pains and sweats and chills that came with the sickness, I could hardly function at all.

So, I apologized (yet again) to my wonderful husband, and we passionately pressed our cheeks together (remember: contagious flu = no kissing) and he forgave me

immediately.

Then he went forth taking care of me and my sweet Paige (who also had the flu). He is my great teacher. He is so quick to forgive and forget. He does not bring up the past. He just loves me, in spite of my brattiness and selfishness. I feel so grateful to be able to walk through this life with a man like that. This time, I knelt down and thanked my Heavenly Father for giving him to me.

A couple of thoughts on marriage:

My mom got me listening to Dr. Lund. For those of you who don't know, he is a therapist and inspirational speaker in the LDS community. Last week, I had to drive to Ogden for a meeting. I was all alone, except for Spencer, but a five-month-old isn't very chatty yet. So, I put on this talk tape:

I have listened to it before - several times. I love it, and I highly recommend it to anyone. He just brings up so many points on how to love unconditionally. But this time, one sentence has been marinating in my mind all week. He quotes a Stake President that told him that the single most cause of anxiety in his calling is "women who don't appreciate their husbands."

Consumed in my brattiness, in my Pity-Poor-Me attitude, I was nitpicking my husband. I wasn't appreciating the million-and-one things that he does to make my life easier and our home a happy place. I was focusing on the faults. He has them. Guess what? So do I. So do you. It's called "being human." But his strengths outnumber his faults substantially. His strengths compliment my faults beautifully. And guess what? My strengths compliment his faults beautifully. As difficult as it is for a person so consumed in selfish thinking, I forced myself to start counting the ways in which I appreciate him. I compiled a mental list that is outstanding. I intend to write that list down and give it to him. It is probably going to look a lot like Santa's list (paper flowing down to the ground and around the room). I have so much to be grateful for.

Dr. Lund also reminded me of another point: His philosophy of a wish versus a goal. He asserts that a wish is something that is dependent on others. A goal is something that is dependent on us. He uses a missionary example to illustrate his point. When a missionary sets a goal to baptize 10 people the following month, it isn't really a goal, it is a wish because it depends on the willingness of other people. But, a missionary can make a goal to get up early, study the scriptures diligently, pray with his/her companion, follow all the mission rules, and work hard. All of that is within his/her control.

A little over a month ago, we were challenged by the Stake Presidency to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year. That meant that we would have to read approximately six pages a night. We decided that in order to accomplish this goal, we would get ready for bed (jammies, brushed teeth, prayers, etc) and put our kids in their beds - lights out. Then, we would sit in the hallway and read out loud. All the promises of conference talks over the years came back to me. I heard about all these great promised blessings of holding regular scripture study. I created images of angelic children, anxiously hanging on our every word, falling asleep with the words of the Lord ringing in their ears, and complete family harmony to follow in the morning when they all woke up.

Let's just say that wasn't exactly what has happened. More often than not, I find myself telling kids to stop talking, stop kicking the wall, stop clicking their tongues, stop begging for a glass of water, stop crying, stop...stop...stop! Harmonious is not quite the word I would use to describe our scripture study time. I realized that it was a wish that I had for my children to fall in love with the scriptures. I have no control over the way in which they receive this information. I quickly re-evaluated my thinking. My goal is now to read every night and not chastise my children at all during this time. The harmony is beginning to seep into our home again.

It is my wish that my husband absolutely adore me, even when I'm not so adorable. It is my goal to be more appreciative of my husband. It is my goal to find a way every day to express my gratitude to him.

One of my favorite things to do with my kids is read with them. This is quite possibly when I am at my best as a mother. I'm not so great at playing Polly Pocket or "warring" with Pokemon cards (those are the strengths of my husband), but we do enjoy cuddling up with a good book. It has become a tradition that I read books out loud to my kids while they eat breakfast, and then we watch the movie based on the book. Greg sets up the projector in our basement and we watch the movie on "the wall" - our own little home theater. We blow up the air mattress, pop popcorn, and the kids are in heaven. A few years ago, we read "Because of Winn-Dixie" by Kate DiCamillo. This young girl befriends people in a small Florida town. One of the older women of the town gives the young girl some advice: "You just got to love it while you got it, and that's that."

I watch time slipping away from me. It is so easy for me to see that sweet little towhead toddler running around my house. He brought me so much joy. Now, he is eight years old already. In a few very short years, he'll be in Jr. High. We will no longer be the center of his universe. I just need to love my children while I've got them. They won't be here forever.

I just need to love my husband while I've got him. I don't know what the future brings. Hopefully, we will be celebrating his 94th birthday together (just like we recently celebrated the 94th birthday of his grandmother). The reality is that we only have the guarantee of today...this hour...this minute. And I desperately want my children and husband to feel loved, respected, and appreciated.

This is my goal: To love more deeply and show that love more often (and to leave that selfish little brat that has possessed me lately on the doorstep).

Ironically, when I give up that selfishness, and start to look outside of myself, I am so much happier, so much more at peace with myself and my life. Everything has more color, more beauty, more...more...more! God is tricky like that. The more we give, the more we receive. That is especially true with love. (Why did I ever think that being a snot was going to bring me more love?!? Doesn't make sense!)

A Monday Sampler: Follow Up

When I picked Macy up from school today, she gave me this:

It is supposedly Braxton's phone number. However, I'm not convinced. It could be a phone number, zip code, or partial Social Security Number. Not quite sure.

He also gave her this:

It is not the actual movie, but one of the inserts that comes from another Disney DVD. Basically, an advertisement. Macy is downright giddy over the gift. She told me, "Braxton saw this and just knew I would love it. His mommy said he could give it to me." She "read" it all the way home.

I'm beginning to like Braxton.

He sure knows how to make my little girl smile.

From what I remember, that is an important trait in a boyfriend.

A Monday Sampler

Can I just say how much I LOVED Conference this year?!? It was exactly what I needed. I especially love how certain speakers can touch the hearts of different individuals. There were so many talks that I truly enjoyed. But Elder Bednar's talk spoke to my soul.

Sometimes I wonder why I try so hard when it seems like I'm the only one who cares (including my husband, at times). I feel like much of my families reaction to me is (with rolled eyes), "Just suck it up and do it so Mom doesn't get upset." But, after listening to Elder Bednar's talk, especially the part where one of his boys complained about his brother "breathing his air" during FHE, I felt renewed. I just need to be consistent and loving, and hopefully the cumulative effect will be a positive one.

* * *

As mothers, do you ever realize how often your kids step on your toes. I'm speaking literally here. My kids are always stepping on my toes, usually when they have shoes on and I don't. Sometimes, it really hurts.

* * *

Paige is really into playing "pretend family" lately. She is the mom, Dad is the "honey" (translation: child), I am "Jen," and Spencer and Kade become "Chase" and "Cash." Then, her doll is generally Pence (Spence). I watched her take care of her Spence the other day. She really is quite a good little mommy. She fed him the remaining half-ounce out of the real Spencer's bottle (and wiped up the milk mess afterward because Pretend Spence's mouth doesn't actually open to drink the real milk). She changed diapers, wrapped him up in a blanket, gave him kisses and sang a little song, then put him in the swing for a nap. I was hoping that she would then go into the kitchen and start on the dishes or grab the scrubber and start on the toilet, but instead she picked up her cell phone and called Taelyn for a little chat. Hmmm...

* * *

I found this note in Austin's backpack the other day (I blocked out the actual address). Austin is oblivious. When I asked him about Megan, he spoke about her in the same vein as Parker or Kaeden.

I also sat through an entire dinner conversation the other day when Maddie and Macy were talking about the boys that are "so cute" in their class. Braxton is Macy's boyfriend. She also thinks that Bryce is cute, but Braxton is just "so cute." Is this supposed to happen in Kindergarten? I thought I had a few more years? I'm sure Braxton is oblivious as Austin, but Macy clearly has her first serious crush. I think it may be crushing her dad.

* * *

I totally got sucked into the Yankee/Angels game Saturday night and went to bed way, way too late. I was lying on the couch, unable to move. I could hardly keep my eyes open. Greg suggested (several times) that I should go to bed. But for some reason, it was really, really important that I knew the outcome of that game. The drama of live baseball just caught me. I really love baseball! I can't believe after all of it that the Angels lost! And on such a silly error. I love rooting for the underdog (and anyone who plays against the Yankees)!

* * *

Macy's new compliment: Mom, you are A.M.A.Z.I.N.G!

* * *

I watched Stephanie Nielsen (Nie Nie) on Oprah a few weeks ago. I think she is A.M.A.Z.I.N.G! I wished that Oprah would have dug a little deeper into her inner strength and beliefs. One way that Stephanie has inspired me is to take more pride in dinner for my family. I have tried so hard lately to put my heart and soul into preparing meals for my family. Although they are consumed far too quickly, or not at all (food is simply pushed around the plate), it is something that I am trying to do for my family because I want to show them more love. Sometimes I get it right; sometimes I don't. Sometimes we have a mealtime full of laughter and chattiness; sometimes we are rushed and grumpy. But, we are trying and I am grateful to Stephanie and her family for being so open and sharing their examples.

* * *

A couple of weeks ago, I walked past a mirror and caught a glimpse of myself. I was carrying a baby (not sure which one) in my arms. He was facing me and I was kissing his head. I stopped and looked at myself for a minute, then I kissed his head again. The last month or so has been difficult. I have felt so irritable and disconnected. Disconnected with friends. Disconnected with my husband. Definitely disconnected with my kids. I have felt like a robot - a grumpy robot. We have been doing what we "are supposed to do" again. We've reinstated a lot of things that dropped off when the twins were born. Family scripture study (pretty darn regularly - as in every night), family prayer (sometimes it feels like we pray all day long), and even regular Family Home Evening. And I haven't felt much of the promised blessings yet. If anything, I've felt even more contention.

But, that glimpse in the mirror has stayed with me. It comes back often. When I am cradling a crying spell, or holding Paige on my lap to read a night-night story, or wrapping towels around wet, clean little bodies. I think a baby in my arms definitely improves my appearance. I love having these little ones with me. How can I enjoy my family and my kids more? What am I missing?

It Takes a Village

The other night, everybody enjoyed the BYU Game while I was the babysitter. Okay, not everybody, but Greg went with some work people and Lisa and Matt went as well. Thankfully, my mom took Austin and Macy for the night to spend some quality time together. So, from 4:00 until midnight, I played mom to one two-year-old and three five-month-olds (well, almost five months). I'd by lying if I didn't admit to slight nervousness and anticipation. But, I think we did quite well. After figuring out how to fit three babies into a two-seater stroller, we actually left the house and went for a walk. We even managed dinner and all four kids slept at some point through the evening. There was one brief spell when all four were crying: I had just put Paige to bed (her tantrum was to express her disapproval) and as fate would have it, hunger pains hit all three babies at exactly the same time. The grim reality was that they would simply have to wait in line as I slowly, but diligently worked my way through three simultaneous feedings. Overall though, I would call the evening a success.

At one point, I was holding my nephew, trying to get him to finish his bottle before he succumbed to drowsiness. Just minutes earlier, I had changed him and put him in his pajamas. As I cuddled him, I thought about the fact that at some point in my life (of which I can remember very little), I undoubtably had several caretakers. It is a given that my parents changed my diaper, fed me, rocked me, bathed me, cared for me when I was sick, etc. I remember taking care of my first child in his first few weeks of life. One day, a flood of emotion hit me as I stood over his bassinet, having just changed him. I remember being overwhelmed by the fact that two other people loved me this much and took care of me so unselfishly for so many years. I sobbed and contemplated my new understanding of "Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother." Even though we are adults, we are definitely not equal. Through years of unselfish service, they have earned a different level of respect. The other night, as I held Cash, I realized the obvious: there were others.

Memories for me come like they do in the movies. I just have little snippets of the past that I can pull up like looking up my favorite videos on YouTube. I watch most of the scenes from above (as if I'm Scrooge, peering through the windows of my past). Occasionally, I watch the scene from my own five-year-old or eleven-year-old eyes.

I recall a time when I was sitting on my grandmother's lap (I was probably around Macy's age at the time). We were in her spare bedroom, sitting in a rocking chair by the bed. They had this huge bed (it seemed huge to my three-and-a-half foot frame) that was old so you could see the box springs. As a kid, I was fascinated by those box springs and just how uncomfortable that bed was. My grandmother was reading me a story, and I threw up all over the book. I remember her patiently picking me up, taking me into the hall bathroom (the one with the pink sinks), and just taking care of everything. I can almost recall feeling sick, and I can definitely recall her patience in the situation.

I recall moving the chair and coffee tables out of the way and laying out sleeping bags on the floor of the living room of my other grandparents house. I'm sure they were taking care of us while my parents enjoyed Date Night. I remember countless Sunday dinners at her home, and I also recall all four of us sitting in the bathtub at their house when we had chickenpox.

I recall staying with my Aunt while my parents were out of town. For some reason, I recall being in her Provo home when she asked what I wanted to eat while my parents were gone. I said, "Lucky Charms." (I do not recall if she got them for me.)

I recall sleeping out on the trampoline at my other Aunt's house with all of my cousins. I also recall countless camping trips with this aunt. She would walk us to the bathroom, help cut up our food as we all sat around a huge picnic table, and always sang to us.

I even recall the morning after my brother was born. I remember opening the door to our bedroom and seeing our neighbor walking down the hall carrying a basket of laundry. She had spent the night with us since Gavin was born at 10:30 at night.

I recall staying with another friend when my parents were out of town. I remember being in their kitchen and requesting Sloppy Joe's for dinner. (I also recall that I didn't eat the Sloppy Joe's because they didn't taste the same as when my mom made them. My friend's mom wasn't too happy with me.) Afterward, I remember going down their stairs in a sleeping bag and camping out in their living room.

So many people that loved me and cared for me. And there have been so many to love and care for my own children. My sisters and brother have all taken their turns changing diapers, fixing meals, reading stories, rocking babies, feeding bottles, and tucking my own children into bed. My parents and Greg's parents have shown countless acts of love and kindness toward my children as they have assisted us in raising our own little brood. So many neighbors have welcomed my children into their homes, taught them in Primary, and displayed so much love and patience. I feel so blessed to be surrounded by such good, good people who have loved me and my family.

From the bottom of my heart: Thank You!

A few adorable pics of Mr. Cash and Abby and Max:

A Thursday Sampler

Last night, Macy came up to me and said, "Wanna see what Austin showed me?" Then she stuck her tongue out, held it with her hand, and said "Apple." Fabulous.

* * *

Since the kids are out of school today, Greg and I spent a lazy morning in bed with five kids climbing in and out. It was so relaxing to lie there and enjoy my kids. They were playing a lively game where Macy was the dog, Paige was the Mom, Austin was the dad, and Greg was the "honey" (kid). Austin was searching for a few brownie points (which he desperately needed - see previous "Apple" comment), so he decided to change Spencer and Kade's diapers so we could stay in bed. A few hours later, I picked Kade up to discover that his side was soaked. So, I decided I would put the boys in the tub with the girls. As I stripped Kade's clothing, I discovered that Austin put the diaper on backward. No wonder it wasn't working properly. Good intentions though, Bud, and quite tricky to fasten the diaper in the back!

* * *

Greg took Austin to piano lessons on his way out to run some errands. As usual, Austin was moving "like molasses in January" (to quote my husband). Finally, Greg announced that it was time to leave. Austin jumped up and Greg said, "What is wrong with your socks?" He lifted Austin's pant-leg to discover the heel of the sock halfway up his leg. Austin was wearing Greg's socks. Hilarious!

* * *

Paige is starting to say her own prayers. I love them. She covers the usual bases: Mom, Dad, Austin, Macy, and the "tins". She often includes Nana, Papa, Gampa and Gampa (she doesn't say "Grandma"). Taelyn is always at the top of the list. Then, she starts looking around the room to fill the space. "Tank you por my pillow. Tank you por my aminal book. Tank you por my soos." Hilarious!

She also adds syllables to certain words, and it cracks me up. She is so precise in her pronunciation. Some of the ones that I can remember off the top of my head: Tae-a-lyn, safe-a-ly

She says Dora (as in Dora the Explorer) as D-D-D-D-D-Dora. "Mom, I want to watch D-D-D-D-D-Dora."

* * *

My mom was cleaning and conquering some of the piles in her house. She found the Mother's Day cards that Austin and Macy made for me. Since I was in the hospital, the kids went to church with my parents. In Primary, they had some cards made with the beginning of the sentence and the kids filled in the blank. I'd like to share some of my favorites.

First, from Austin:

My mom is so smart, she even knows...the capital of Texas.

My mom is as beautiful as a...pony.

My mom is really good at...sowing. (I don't sew, but I do occasionally "sow".)

I like it when my mom...gets me toys.

And from Macy:

My mom is special because...she fixes me dinner every day.

My mom is really good at...washing the clothes.

My mom is so smart, she even knows...how to fold clothes.

My mom is as beautiful as a...unicorn. (Apparently I resemble some sort of a horse.)

* * *

Spencer and Kade are now crazy with the rolling, and they both prefer to sleep on their stomachs (with their faces against the bumper pads which makes me crazy). They have started to try to grab things. They swat at toys and occasionally grasp onto something. Unfortunately, they have discovered something that they both LOVE: their thumbs. They have both been excellent Binkie Babies, but the thumb seems to make them happier. I put them down with the bink, but more often than not, I come back to find them asleep, binkie spit out, thumb in the mouth. Greg is up in arms. He insists that I am not doing enough to thwart this new found passion. I try; I really do. Whenever I see a thumb, I pull it out and try to convince them that the binkie is better. But, honestly, I can only spend so many hours a day on Project Thumb Intervention.

I'm Grateful For...

I decided that it's time to start up my Grateful section again. This one deserved its own post.

Thursday, May 7th: Greg and I sat on the couch and discussed plans for the upcoming weekend. We decided that after my doctor appointment the following day, that we would stop at the Nursery and buy plants, seeds, and manure needed to get the garden going. We would drive to my parents house, pick up the tiller (you know - the one that crossed the plains with my ancestors; okay, it's not that old - but close), and we would spend Saturday preparing the soil and planting our garden. We discussed what we would like to plant this year and where to try to fit everything into our small yard.

Saturday, May 9th: Kade decided it was simply too stressful living inside my body, so instead of planting our garden, we decided to bring two little boys into this world. They have consumed every waking minute since.

A week or two after we had been home from the hospital, my parents decided they needed a service project. They chose me. Knowing that fresh tomatoes, carrots, zucchini, and corn make me happier than Christmas morning, they showed up on my doorstep with plants in hand, tiller in the back of the Tahoe, and my brother as Worker #3.

Today, I am grateful to my mom, my dad, and my brother for doing what I could not. I'm also grateful for Greg for staying on top of the weeding and maintaining our small but happy garden. I have been reaping the rewards for several weeks now.

Tonight, with the use of 13 fresh tomatoes, I made this:

My house smelled of just the perfect blend of garlic, onions, and tomatoes. My heart was happy. For information on how to make the marinara sauce, go here.

Afterward, I used this:

To make this:

For information on how to make the cake, go here. For information on how to make the adorable children, go here.

Monday, September 18th: Greg and I sat on the couch and discussed our many blessings. We were actually talking about a family crisis (or two) and our role in helping to ease the burden a bit. Then we talked about how we have spent the past several months swimming as hard as we can just to keep our heads above water. This was not a discussion full of self-pity; we laughed as we discussed our survival techniques and creativity. Twice last week, I woke up about 2:30 in the morning to find that we had fallen asleep in mid-conversation with several lights on (and Greg's contacts still in). As I sleepily wandered around the house in the middle of the night, turning off lights, locking doors, starting the dishwasher, and flushing toilets (seems like that always needs to be done), I thought about how we are exhausted, but in the best possible way. I can't think of any other way I'd rather be expending my energy. Ironically, challenges have a way of highlighting our many blessings.

Thank you to everyone who has sought a service project and thought of my family over the past several months. We have felt so much charity and Christlike love enter our home. Thank you for helping so willingly and sharing your love with us. I truly am grateful for all the good, good people in my life.

How do I love thee, Let me count the ways...

I took Spencer and Kade in for their 4 month check up yesterday. Kade weighed in at 11 pounds 14 ounces and 23 1/4 inches. Spencer came in at 12 pounds 2 ounces and 24 3/4 inches. I really thought Spencer would weigh a lot more. He just seems so much bigger than Kade. Even the nurse was surprised. She thought he would be about a pound bigger. (They got shots and Kade didn't even cry. We just watched him, waiting for that wail, but it never came. Crazy!)

Anyway...I wanted to see how they were doing in comparison to my other children at four months. Amazingly, both Austin and Macy weighed exactly the same (12 pounds 13 ounces), but I couldn't find where I wrote down Paige's information. Back when I was not the mother of 5, I had calendars for each baby for the first year of their lives. Every day (or almost), I would jot down something that happened - either something that they accomplished or something fun or just a tender moment. I noticed that I quit about four months with Paige, but that was also the time that I started my blog. So, I went back to the beginning to see if I documented Paige's information. I didn't.

It was just about bedtime, so my kids were swarming around me with toothbrushes in their mouths and books in their hands and Greg was giving me the "Why do you have to do that right now?!?" look (it comes with rolled eyes and exasperated sighs). I was having a blast reading through the past two years. A few posts I remembered without reading, most of them came back to me as I read them or saw a picture, and some of them seemed totally new to me (like the time when Macy told me that she was so upset she would "never laugh again"). I fell in love with my blog, with everybody's comments, and especially with my life all over again.

Although I really enjoy writing, I was never very good at keeping a consistent journal. My blog has enabled me to do just that. I print off the posts and put them in a binder so that I have an electronic copy and a paper copy. I try to be very honest and write about the good times and the trying times. If my kids (and maybe their kids) really do read this one day, I want them to know that I am very much human. I find one-dimensional blogs so transparent (either way: too depressing and self-loathing or so blissfully happy).

So today I am grateful for blogger. I know that not as many people are blogging these days, but just reading through my 2007 archives makes me realize how much I truly love blogging and I should keep doing it. It is good therapy for me and a perfect spot for me to document our memories. I love you blogger.com!!!

While I'm documenting...Here is an update of my boys at four months:

Loves: Being held, swings, bouncers, cooing when spoken to, grabbing mom's hair, watching their mobile, baths, being outside, the ceiling fan, watching Baby Einstein videos (my life-saver), rolling completely over and over and over (Spencer), sleeping on tummy (Spencer), rolling on side (Kade), kisses on chin and neck, binks, sucking on fingers (Kade), sleeping with Mom, scratching his head (Kade), holding their hands together

Dislikes: Being left alone, messy diapers, having their eyes cleaned out (Kade), lotion, walking downstairs (Spencer - he gets all tight, puts his arms out, and cries), loud noises

Kade getting tortured with lotion by Paige:

New this month: I have had both boys sleeping in their bouncers on the kitchen table. I wrap them up tightly, buckle them up, and turn on the bounciness. This month, since Spencer tries to roll out of the bouncer, we moved both boys into the crib. I realized that I created two bouncer monsters. They fought the crib for the first week, but are getting so much better. We just put them down with a pacifier, cover them with a blanket, and turn on the mobile. They are such good boys and generally go to sleep. Sometimes, in the night, they'll wake up because one of them has turned around is is kicking the other one in the head (just like the womb). They generally skip one feeding in the night and go about six hours. We've also started going on more walks. I put one baby in the wrap and one in the double stroller with Paige. We've LOVED getting out!

Nicknames: Bence (coined by Paige), Mr. Spence, Spenceter

Kadester, Kincade

My favorite things: The constant cooing and the way they smile with their entire bodies. They get so excited and kick their legs, arch their back, fling out their arms, and smile! I love you Spencer and Kade!