Rag-a-Muffins

Sometimes the boys like to stay awake and "chat" with each other after I put them down for a nap. I usually give it a few minutes, and then go in and kiss them again, lay them down again, put the binkie in again, and start the music again. This usually works. Today, I heard some commotion and decided it was time to remind them that it was nap time. (And when I say "chat," that is exactly what I mean. They weren't crying, just jabbering.)

This is what I found:

That is Kade. Apparently I left the car seat too close to the bed. The shots aren't great (I was desperately trying not to wake him and not move anything in the room while trying to capture the moment), but he is completely out - with a pretty tight grip on that toy. He woke up with lines on his forehead from the bars of the crib. Earlier in the day, I walked in to see him standing in the crib. Without him noticing me, I observed as he peeked over the edge (on his cute little tippy toes), took the bink out of his mouth, tossed it out, and laughed as he watched it hit the ground and roll away.

Spence (the chatterbox) was found observing the entire situation with his legs hanging out the crib. He was kicking them and bouncing. Notice the thumb in his mouth. That was my indicator that he really was tired.

Nobody can accuse my kids of not having personality. Even at this age, curiousity is infinitely more important than sleep.

I love them more than words can describe.

(Look at Spence's big toe pointing up. Hahaha)

Each Life That Touches Ours For Good

I actually enjoy going to funerals. Is that weird? My husband would exclaim a resounding "Yes! You are definitely wacko!" I don't mean to be terribly morbid, but I do enjoy attending funerals that rejoice in a life well lived and bear testimony about the grace of the Savior and His loving, charitable sacrifice so we can live again. I had this opportunity a couple of weeks ago, and I walked out of the service so uplifted.

Greg and I met at a friend's wedding. One of my best friends married one of his best friends. (Go here for the full story.) Greg met Steve as a Freshman in college. They are only a few days apart. They served their missions together, returned together, attended some more school together, and eventually married two beautiful, talented, amazing women. Steve's grandparents lived in the Orem/Provo area when Steve and Greg were at BYU. They often went over to Steve's grandparents house for meals, and Steve's grandpa took them fishing occasionally. Greg grew to love these adopted grandparents, and they took him in and loved him right back. I had the opportunity to meet them and visit with them on a few occasions throughout our married life. They loved me and drew me into their home immediately.

On March 4th, Grandpa Carlson passed away. He had been suffering with health problems for a while. Although they had relocated to Arizona, he was buried here in Salt Lake. Steve and Liz and Steve's entire family made the trek to Utah for the funeral. Greg and I (and Spencer and Kade) had the privilege of attending the funeral. Although I had only met Grandpa Carlson a handful of times, he had a profound impact on Greg's life (which, in turn, has a profound impact on mine). Greg is not known to "gush" about people. You definitely have to earn your praise from my husband. As he reminisced about Grandpa's life, I watched him speak with complete awe and reverence about a man who loved unconditionally and chose to live life joyfully.

Several times throughout the service, family members spoke of Grandpa's positive attitude. They also spoke about his ability to love and not judge. His daughter (Steve's mother) gave the eulogy. She spoke about how she has always felt that the Savior loves her because her dad loved her so deeply and always treated her with love and respect. Several people spoke about Grandpa's funny sayings and the ability he had to "enjoy the journey." He loved to fish. Fishing became a great metaphor throughout the service. His family spoke about how he taught them to relish in the peaceful surroundings and the majesty of the Lord's creations and not worry so much about catching fish.

I watched Greg, Steve, and Steve's family laugh and swap stories and sweet memories of Grandpa Carlson. It seemed that one person's memory led to another and another. As I sat through the beautiful service, contemplating the life of this man who loved the Lord, loved his family, and lived a happy, full life, all I could think about was the hymn "Each Life That Touches Ours for Good."

Each life that touches ours for good

Reflects thine own great mercy, Lord;

Thou sendest blessings from above

Thru words and deeds of those who love.

What greater gift dost thou bestow,
What greater goodness can we know
Than Christlike friends, whose gentle ways
Strengthen our faith, enrich our days.

When such a friend from us departs,
We hold forever in our hearts
A sweet and hallowed memory,
Bringing us nearer, Lord, to thee.

For worthy friends whose lives proclaim
Devotion to the Savior’s name,
Who bless our days with peace and love,
We praise thy goodness, Lord, above.

- Karen Lynn Davidson

Although I hardly knew this good man, by impacting the life of the most important person in my life, he has dramatically influenced mine. I left that service with a renewed passion to love my family more deeply and find more joy. Period. I also started contemplating how many people have impacted my life and they may never realize. Of course my close friends and family have an enormous impact, but I also thought of friends/acquaintances that I may or may not keep in contact with anymore. People that attended school with, people from past wards, people that have moved from my current ward, new ward members that I don't know very well yet. I thought about the stranger at the grocery store who stepped in to help a mother that was clearly struggling with her little ones. Instead of shaking her head, this woman took action. I thought of the sweet temple workers who helped me when I first received my endowments. I thought about all of my YW leaders. I thought of past roommates. I thought about people in my life who have died, but have left an everlasting imprint on my life. I thought about teachers and friends who have loved my children, thereby influencing my life tremendously. I thought of all of Greg's past friends, extended family members, youth leaders, professors, bishops, mission presidents, etc. (the list could go on and on) whom I have never met but have made him the man that he is today. It is almost mind boggling to consider all the people that have touched my life.

I believe that we have a greater power to influence than we realize. I have been so blessed to be surrounded by so much good.

I am grateful.

My Outlet

I have missed you, my lovely blog. My family has missed you because I haven't been using you to "dump" out my brain. I have several posts swimming around my head, but I will have to miss you a little bit longer. We went to the doctor yesterday. For the third time in six weeks, we have four ear infections and one infected throat. As a result, we have spent more on health care this month (insurance, doctor visits, prescriptions) than on our mortgage. Thank heaven for a wonderful pharmacist who gave us one prescription for both babies. Saved us $35. Bless you, Mr. Pharmacist.

So, once we get a few healthy ears, and I am able to get a little sleep, I will return. I have to go now because Spencer is climbing up my arm demanding to be loved and Paige is crying (for the fortieth time this morning) because she spilled her milk (again).

Ear Infections = Very Clingy Babies

Three Year Olds = A lot of Tears

Homework

Macy included this note with her homework. I obviously told her about her birthday WAY too early. She has been counting down since the beginning of March. I probably should have told her the night before. She is SO excited!

Translation: It's two more days until my birthday. From, Macy

Deep Thoughts - March Edition

A few weeks ago, we were getting ready for Saturday Night Baths (it's capitalized because it is an event at our house). We were administering orders: Macy, let me take your hair out before it gets wet; Paige, don't forget to take your panties before you get in the water; Austin, please remember to use soap to wash your entire body, etc. When we were done, Austin said, "Okay, but I don't need to wash my hair because I already had a 'head bath' today." (He had his hair cut earlier the day, and they washed his hair in that little wash bin. Otherwise known as a "head bath.")

* * *

Macy went to Tracy Aviary with her school class. She came home and told us all about it. She got very excited when she told us about the male peacock. She told us that he had all of his tail feathers out so he was "beautiful." Then she educated us: "That's how you know that they like girls."

* * *

Occasionally, I put "dust" on the chore chart. This guarantees at least an hour of whining and griping, even though I only assign one bookcase. On this particular day, I even let Macy pick any bookcase to dust. When she was on shelf #2, she sighed, wiped her brow, and exclaimed, "This is like cleaning a mansion."

* * *

For breakfast, I often cut a banana in half for Macy and Paige to share. The other day, Paige had eaten her half, but was playing with the peel. She was holding it by the tip and bouncing it up and down. "Look Mommy," she said, "It's an oscapus!"

* * *

An excerpt from Macy's prayer the other night: "Thank you for Daddy's job so we have a home and food. Please help Daddy so he can save twenty thousand dollars to give to the children's hospital. Please bless our friend in the morning class who is at the children's hospital."

* * *

Just to get it off my chest: Two things I was born without: Grace and Flexibility. It's a good think that I am neither a First Lady or an Exotic Dancer.

Macy Poppins

Tonight, Macy enlightened us with this beautiful number:

"Super-cali-fragilis-that-is-my-ali-toe-cious."

Then, she spent an hour after dinner doing this:

She's in the linen closet watching home videos - with the door closed. She was quite put out that I had the door open while snapping a few pictures. I like the way that she's made a nice bed for herself with the towels, blankets, and baskets.

I especially appreciate the fact that when it was time to go to bed, she neatly folded each and every blanket and towel that she used and put it back in perfect little stacks on the correct shelf...Yeah right!!!

I love her - mess and all! Nobody makes me laugh like this Little Princess.

The Decade from Hell

Just before Christmas, I was in Barnes and Noble when I saw the cover of Newsweek. It read, "The Decade from Hell." You know how it is at the end of year. You get lists and lists of Best/Worst. The year is pretty much analyzed and compared every which way possible. At the end of a decade, this scrutiny is magnified by about 100. Ever since I've seen that headline, I've been contemplating this first decade of the 21st Century.

I came to the realization that while "the world" (well represented by the editors at "Newsweek") may view the past 10 years as constant economical and social turmoil with mistakes at every turn, the past 10 years have been monumental in my little life.

At 12:01 a.m. on January 1, 2000 (when it became readily apparent that the world did not blow up or shut down or whatever Y2K was all about), I kissed my husband of (just over) 5 months. We were young, naive, stupid, broke, and blissfully happy. Our eyes were bright and hopeful and full of dreams for our "future." 10 years later, at 12:01 a.m. on January 1, 2010, we kissed again and then went to bed. We are still happy, but much, much more exhausted.

In the past decade, all five of my children have been born. Sometimes, I close my eyes and try to picture each individual hospital room and I try to recall those feelings of the moments that they were born. These four events, alone, have changed my life and my eternity in ways that go beyond words. No matter what happens from this point on, I will always be forever grateful that I have been given the opportunity to be a mother and bring these spirits into this world. The moments of their births are the most sacred, precious experiences of my life.

It just proves that no matter what is going on in the world, I believe that we can "make it" as long as I have Greg by my side and the love of my family. Hell??? If I'm being completely honest, there have been days. But overall, I would have to name it The Decade of Blessings. I am truly blessed. Now, I believe we are entering The Decade of Learning (or The Decade of Teaching - depending on how you look at it) as we try to actually raise these 5 kids that we've been given. (It could also be called The Decade of Patience. To quote my mom when she found out we were having twins: "If this doesn't teach you patience, then you must be a lost cause." So true!!!)

Mystery Package (no pun intended)

Admit it.

You get excited when you go to the mailbox and there is a package addressed to you. How about that thrill that goes up your spine when you open the door to see the UPS guy waving politely as he runs back to his truck only to look down and see happiness wrapped up in brown goodness on your doormat?!?

Well, today, my husband walked in the door after some meetings carrying the weekly grocery store ads, ads for the bazillion President's Day sales, a few bills, a baby shower invitation, a second birthday card from my Grandma (she forgot that she already gave me one three weeks ago), and a brown package.

My eyes passed by all the "regular" stuff, and I said, "What's in the package?"

Greg said, "I don't know. It's addressed to you."

He mused while he found a knife to open it up: "What did you order that you forgot about?"

My mind was racing. This is so exciting! I don't remember ordering anything. Maybe somebody sent me a late birthday present, or maybe I did order something and put it out of my mind. This was nearly as thrilling as finding a $20 bill in your winter coat the first time you wear it in November only to realize that you left it there the past March.

With wild anticipation, Greg turned back the flaps of the box for the big reveal:

Right now, you are probably asking yourself, "Is that what I think it is?"

Allow me: Why yes, that is exactly what you think it is. 72 to be exact (12 packages of 6), along with a lifetime supply of lubricant. The invoice simply stated, "Undercover Condoms."

I have no idea where they came from. (I immediately suspected several mom's from my son's school class trying to send Greg and I a not-so-subtle hint.)

This intensely funny situation turned somber when we realized that they were ordered from my credit card number and will be classified as a "Fraud charge." At least we don't have to pay the $103 for the year's supply of birth control. Too bad my Identity Thief didn't make a purchase on "Incognito Diamonds" or "Confidential Corvettes."

Now I have no credit card.

But I do have a size-able donation to make to Planned Parenthood that should be tax deductible.

What did you receive in the mail today???

My Maternal PhD

It is so interesting being the mother of twins. I feel like I should be taking notes so that I can write a thesis someday. In nine months, here are a few observations:

• As a general rule, Spencer meets developmental milestones (rolls over, sits up, crawls, gets teeth, etc.). Then, about two weeks later, Kade follows.
• Up until 8 months, two babies can sleep in a crib together. At 8 months: 1 day, Spencer starts crawling on top of his brother in the bed. Sometimes on his legs, sometimes on his torso, and sometimes right on top of his head. This entices Kade to scream at the top of his lungs in severe panic in an attempt to save his life from accidental suffocation. Two weeks later, Kade repays the torture by doing the same to Spencer. As a result, two cribs are needed.
• With the cribs in an L-shape in the bedroom, twin brothers will crawl to the corner closest one another and "chat" and reach out to each other during the first few days of their separation. As a result, a mother's heart is broken.
• Both boys have two bottom teeth (that are extremely difficult to photograph).

• Whenever babies have blocked tear ducts, just wait eight months and finally make an appointment with a specialist. Since the soonest appointment is nearly four weeks away, just wait and attempt to work through the mountain of paperwork (honestly...How much medical history can a 9-month-old have??? Well, a lot actually). Then, about four days before the doctor appointment, the eyes will clear up on their own. Miraculous!!!
• These boys are completely oblivious to knawing on the head, getting their hands eaten by another human being, getting toys/snacks yanked from their hands, getting crawled all over (except the head).
• My husband is a Gene Hog! Honestly, just look at those eyes!!!

Spencer at Nine Months:

• Nearly always rejects his binkie. Greatly prefers his thumb (sucks his left thumb).
• Crawls on his hands and knees at a fast pace. Enjoys exploring the hallway, bathrooms, and bedrooms. Has developed a recent curiosity for the stairs (much to his mother's dismay).
• Loves to crawl over obstacles. (I actually saw him giggle and "jump" [while on his hands and knees] the other day when he spied a TV tray that was set up. And last week at church, the bars on the legs of a piano entertained him for about 25 minutes as he crawled back and forth.)

• In the last two days, has learned how to go from crawling to sitting. He likes to show off his new trick.
• Likes to pull himself up on ANYTHING!!! About half the time, he successfully "gets down." The other half of the time generally ends in him yelling to be rescued. (Found him today standing in the crib holding on for dear life and yelling for help - with his pants down.)
• Happy boy, but likes to observe and explore on his own. Rarely fussy, but you have to earn a response out of this one. Generally just smiles contently instead of giggling and grabbing and copying.
• Is extremely ticklish in his legs.
• Adores the bath and likes to splash with his hands.
• Refuses any nourishment that does not come from a bottle (which he happily holds by himself). Speedy eater.

Kade at Nine Months:

• Willingly takes both his binkie and his thumb (sucks his right thumb).
• Can crawl on his hands and knees, but still enjoys a good "Army Crawl" - especially on the wood floor.
• Also enjoys obstacles and is quite resilient. The other day, I observed him crawling over the bottom step of a step stool. As I watched him (high-centered on the step), I wondered how he was going to get out of the situation. After much wiggling, he fell forward, head first, and landed with a bang. I expected tears, but I only saw triumph on his face.
• Happy...Happy...HAPPY child!!! He kicks constantly (this turns into a bounce when he is on my lap). Last night, when I woke him from a deep, deep sleep at 11:30 for his bottle, he could not open his eyes, but he kicked his legs to show his appreciation.
• Dances (aka: kicks) whenever he hears music of any kind.
• So very responsive. He responds to his name (only when I call him), and squeals with delight at the very sight of my face (or Dad's, Macy's, Austin's, or Paige's). Talks and babbles and tries to repeat sounds (not very successfully so far). Giggles with the very pretense of touch. Reaches out every time someone walks by, and immediately grabs my face with a "kiss" and a pat to express his gratitude. Whenever I walk in the room, he tries to blow raspberries with his lips to try to please me.
• Cannot quite figure out how to get down once he's pulled himself up. Generally panics and "calls" for help. Occasionally, he'll try to "fall" gracefully - that technique rarely ends well. Yesterday, I caught him screaming for rescue as he was slowly doing the splits in the bathroom while holding onto the tub for dear life.
• Adores the bath and likes to splash with his feet.
• Refuses any nourishment that does not come from a bottle (which he happily holds by himself, and generally "pats" while eating). Slow eater. By the time Spencer has finished, Kade still has about two-thirds of the bottle left.

I adore them both! I fed one after the other last night (I like to hold them for their late-night feeding). As I was holding the bottle and rubbing the cheek of Number 2 (this time it was Spencer), I just stared at him and marveled at the capacity of the human heart. Although they look like the same person, they are definitely starting to show distinct differences in personality and preference. I love them both so much, and they both bring so much happiness into my day. At times, it is difficult to put them back in their cribs to say "Goodnight." I would rather just hold them and observe them and try to memorize every little inch of those adorable little faces. One day, they will be bigger than me, but they will always be my babies. I simply cannot get enough of them!!!

*Pictures: Last week, Jen called me and asked me to bring the boys over PRONTO because the light was perfect and she needed to get some shots of a blue hat to send to a client (they loved playing with the tassels). This was perfect because I was going to try to take some pictures this week, but now I'm off the hook. She got some adorable images (as always). It definitely comes in handy to have a back-up! :-)

How's Your Day?

Monkeys

That is what I call them because they are EVERYWHERE!!!

I am amazed at how far babies come in their first year. To think that just eight-and-a-half months ago, these two little boys couldn't do anything - ANYTHING - for themselves (not even eat or stay warm on their own), and now they are rulers of the house and they are lovin' it!!! It is simply amazing!

One of the funniest things about these two little monkeys is their desire to climb up and over anything. It's like they seek out obstacles and try to scale them. They would be so happy if we just transformed our Family Room into a mini jungle gym with tunnels and hills and stairs. They have both been "Army Crawling" for a while now. They just use their arms to pull themselves in any direction that looks interesting. A few weeks ago, Spencer figured out the arm/leg coordination and he can definitely book it! In the past few days, Kade is starting to figure it out as well. Spencer can get down the hall and into any room he desires in a matter of seconds. Kade, on the other hand, prefers the challenge of under the table and loves the fringe on the kitchen rug.

One of the funniest things they do is crawl in and out of the bottom of our "vintage" (1990s) bouncer/saucer. At first, they pulled themselves in when their was an interesting toy stuck in the bottom. But now, they just love to climb in and hang out. I'll often find them resting their little heads on the rim. It doesn't matter if one baby is in the bouncer; they really don't mind getting stepped on. Sometimes, they just crawl in and crawl right out (and do it over and over again) just for the fun of it.

Here is Spencer about a month ago (Spencer was the first to discover this exhilarating game):

This is a couple of days ago (Spencer sitting in the bouncer and Kade is crawling underneath):

Oh, and although neither one of the boys are remotely interested in baby food (they don't care for the puree - they dramatically act as if they are choking), nor have they figured out that when they have food in their hand, they can actually put it in their mouth (they just play with it in-between their fingers), we have officially become these people:

They really are a TON of fun and such a joy (most of the time)!

*They actually do have hair. It is just so blond that it doesn't show up when the backdrop is a bright window.

**Kade's head looks enormous in that last picture. He does have the bigger head, but that angle really accentuates it. Sorry Bud!

A Psychoanalytic Essay Centered Around Weaning

I realized last Saturday that I need to quit nursing my babies. I have noticed a decline in my milk the past month or so, and I have tried everything I can think of to increase my supply. However, I am not succeeding. Neither one of them seems interested in baby food (they'll eat it if it isn't pureed but still get the "Are you kidding me?" look on their faces whenever something is in their mouths); I think I might be starving them. This is about the same time that I lost my milk with my other babies. I knew it was coming.

I sobbed until my pillow was soaked.

I've been trying to psychoanalyze myself. Why in the world am I having such a difficult time accepting that this chapter of my life is over (the bearing children chapter)??? I know that I cannot have any more children (we've been over this), so why is it so hard for me to be happy about the next chapter? Good grief - we have five...5...FIVE kids, and there was a time when we seriously wondered if we would even have two. Why can't I just count my blessings? In trying to get completely honest with myself, I realized that I am good at babies, but I am not good at older children. I don't know what to do with them. I don't know how to nurture them and show them affection. I'm truly horrible at it.

I am terrified.

I wish I had those first few years of Austin's life on video (not creepy, reality show video, but just something that I have to myself to capture all those feelings that I had for him). I was a fabulous mother. Even though he was a fussy baby, I absolutely adored him. I worked part time after I had him. My manager had a baby six months before Austin, and we created an in-office day care for the two of them. It was perfect. When he was a newborn, I nursed him while at work, and when he got a little older, I would visit him several times a day. We ate lunch together, and I even potty trained him while at work because he was a few feet away from me the entire time. If he ever got hurt or was just too tired, I could console him or rock him to sleep. I just took my breaks with him. He was the highlight(s) of my day.

I remember being at my in-laws house when Austin was about the age of Spencer and Kade (maybe eight or nine months) and my niece (who is possibly the most observant child I have ever met) asked me why I kiss him so much. Without missing a beat, I told her that is how babies grow. Her mom laughed and agreed with me. I had never noticed how much time I spent munching his cheeks, tickling his chest with my chin, or pretending to eat his legs to get a laugh. I had never noticed how much I actually looked forward to changing his diaper because it meant that I got to play with him for a few minutes.

At Austin's baby shower, I remember playing an advice game (where everybody gives you the best parenting advice they have). I remember someone saying that a mother should always light up when her child enters the room. I did this with him. I remember crawling into his room to get him up for his nap and peeking over the side. He knew this game well and would be so quiet and excited with the anticipation, then he would squeal with delight when I peeked into the crib. Sometimes, I would twiddle my thumbs waiting for him to wake up because I missed him (sounds pretty cheesy huh).

As a toddler, Austin was obsessed with anything "Construction." He had construction Tonka trucks, giant replica's to play with in the dirt, and documentaries on how to build a road or how to build a skyscraper. When we went to the library (which I did dutifully every three weeks), he came home with stacks of books about backhoes and dump trucks. I used to pack lunches for the two of us and drive to a construction site. We would watch them work while we ate lunch. He LOVED it!

When I lost baby after baby, I had Austin to console me. I wanted a baby so badly that my arms ached - literally. There were days when I felt like I had been lifting weights all day because my arms throbbed to be cuddling a baby. There were several nights when I would go into Austin's room, scoop up his too-big body, and attempt to rock him. I was so grateful I had him. He saved me. He gave me a purpose (a darling, energetic, toe-headed reason) to get out of bed in the morning, put on a happy face, and enjoy him to the fullest. He also gave me a purpose to keep fighting. I just felt so compelled to do anything in my power to get him a sibling. When I wanted to give up, I thought of him, and I knew I needed to keep searching for an answer and just keep trying.

Then Macy was born and Austin was three. He did not adjust well. He had been the center of my universe, his Daddy's universe, and my parent's universe for three years. Sharing the spotlight did not come easily. I had quit work completely at this point, but I thought that perhaps he needed something that was entirely his to help him with his behavior. I signed him up for a little preschool program. He was only gone a few hours a week, but I hoped it would help him feel special and like a very "Big Boy."

After just a few days at school, the teacher walked him out to the car with "The Look." I had never seen "The Look" before. It was the look of complete and utter exhaustion and frustration and it said, "I don't get paid enough to put up with this kid." (Unfortunately, I know "The Look" all too well by now. I can spot it a mile away. It's okay for me to have "The Look," but it sends me spinning when I see it on other people.) She explained how he was hitting and that hitting is not allowed in school and maybe he just isn't old enough yet and maybe I should reconsider and maybe take a few months and teach him how not to hit. Fabulous!

I have thought long and hard about my reaction to other's peoples reactions to my children. I really believe that it isn't that I want my kids to fit into the box that other people create for them, and it really isn't that I care what other people think (mostly). I think my answer is two-fold. First, I do not like to cause problems. I've always tried to "play by the rules" even though I rarely agree with the rules. (See how complicated it gets when you try to be honest with yourself.) I don't like to get in trouble. I don't like to be called out. When I see "The Look," I feel so desperately that I've done something wrong, and I'm embarrassed that we've caused trouble. Secondly, I've realized that it breaks my heart because I'm intentionally sending my children to be instructed by someone that can't stand them. I don't want my children feeling so unloved and like a "bad" kid. Unfortunately, my reaction is anger. I'm angry that my kids aren't acting the way that they've been taught so they don't cause problems so people don't have to dislike them and treat them like they dislike them. I'm angry that I can't always protect them. I'm angry that I don't know how to react.

The dichotomy of this is that I know my children need to make mistakes. I am so extremely grateful for the mistakes I've made in my life. My parents were amazing to let me make my own choices, even when they knew that it was going to be disastrous and that I'd have some pretty big consequences to deal with. I know there are certain lessons that I would not have learned without going through those experiences. I have a much greater understanding of the Savior because of those experiences.

My parents are amazing.

Getting back to my main problem: I don't know how to parent when the struggles change from one million diapers and the price of formula and not sleeping through the night in nearly 9 years to succeeding in school, gaining a testimony, teaching responsibility and work ethic, successful relationships with other people, selflessness, charity, etc., etc., etc. I don't know how to show affection when I can no longer rock a baby to sleep or pull a toddler on my lap to cuddle up with a book or give chubby little tummy zerbets or play peek-a-boo with the blankets when I am tucking my 4-year-old in bed.

I am terrified.

I have more doubts than I've ever had about this next phase of my life. I feel like a failure before I've even started. Greg is so much better at nurturing Austin and Macy. When Macy gets hurt or scared, the only person she wants is her dad (and she's pretty honest in letting me know that I am NOT her first choice-and rarely her second). Greg is amazing with Austin. A couple of weeks ago, I asked Greg to teach me how to sit and build a lego ship. I don't know how. I asked him how he can lie on the lower bunk while Austin is in the top bunk and just chat for a half an hour. Or how he can drive up to Lava Hot Springs with Austin and talk and play the entire time. What do they talk about? How does he get Austin to open up? Why, oh why, can't I do it?

I simply don't know how to be a loving, supportive mother to an older child. I remember rocking and loving Austin as a baby and looking into those inquisitive, blue eyes and saying, "I love you so much! I promise I will never yell at you! I never want to hurt you! I promise that I will only be uplifting and 100% supportive! You will always know how much I love you!" Now I hold Spencer and Kade with the same inquisitive, blue eyes and say, "I love you so much! I wish I could promise you that I'll never yell at you or lose my temper, but I will. There will probably be days when I'll want to leave you on the curb with a sign that says 'Free.' I hope that you will forgive me and still be able to feel my love for you."

Five kids is A LOT more than three. Most of the time, I don't feel the affects too badly. I simply "do" because I have to (one foot in front of the other right?!?). But there are definitely times when it overwhelms me. (How in the world do you women do it who have 7 or 8 kids. You are amazing!!!) My wish...my hope...my desire is for my children to know that I love them - through their mistakes and their successes. Now if I can just figure out how to do that after they turn four.

Multi-Tasking is Overrated

As I was helping Macy with her homework, getting after-school snacks, helping Austin with piano, getting Austin ready for Scouts, getting babies down for a nap, and vacuuming, this is what happened:

Their only response: "We're 'Bad Guys'!"

The genius who invented Washable Markers must have been a mother...with a two-year-old! Bless you (whoever you are)!!!

I must admit, I am quite impressed with the array of colors that they used. They were definitely going for "Artistic" and not just "Naughty."


Their "Bad Guy" faces:

Side note: Despite my best efforts (I put ALL the bottles of shampoo, conditioner, body wash, baby wash, soap, etc. on the counter before I ran the water), they dumped out half a bottle of body wash while they were in the tub. They just laughed and said, "We're stinkerpots! Right!?!"

My Husband Makes Me Smile

On Christmas morning, I reached for a present and Greg got nervous. Before I could rip the wrapping paper off, he explained over and over again how he had gone out on a limb with this gift and he's so sorry if I don't like it. I could not imagine what might be in the package to get him so crazy nervous. Then, I opened it and saw these:

I laughed a little and I guess the look on my face said, "Hey crazy man, why would you think that books are a 'gamble' of a present." I love to read, so I love getting books. Then, he went on to explain how he went to the bookstore and explained to the sales woman what I like to read. To paraphrase his own words to this poor woman who happened to be working at that moment: "She really likes books about real events where the people are really oppressed. She just loves to read about WWII concentration camps and stuff like that."

I have only read "Snow Flower" about the horribly oppressed women that lived in a small village in China near the beginning of the 19th Century. There was much detail about foot binding and class struggles and war and famine and illness. I loved it! I am anxious to get started on "Peony in Love."

For my birthday, Jen gave me this:

She picked it up for me and read it first herself. (I can't tell you how much I love that she did that. We gave Maddie a movie for Christmas - one that she requested. We hadn't seen it, so we opened it and watched it before we gave it to her.) Anyway, her excitement after reading the book was overwhelming. I started and it had me hooked from the first page. I was up until 12:30 (or later) every night last week while I read and forced myself to stop. It is set in 1962 in Jackson, Mississippi and addresses the complicated relationship of white women and their maids. Stockett has a gift for gripping your attention and then making you wait (most impatiently) for the resolution. But, by the time you reach the resolution to one "story," you are caught up in the middle of another one. She is a fabulous writer. I highly recommend this book.

I was reading in bed one night when Greg came up and started getting ready for bed. He was in the bathroom getting his toothbrush ready, asking me about my book. He asked me if I liked it and I quickly, but adamantly, exclaimed my love for the book. He said, "Is there a lot of oppression in it?" I smiled and answered, "Tons!" He smiled and said, "Good." After he brushed his teeth, he popped his head out of the bathroom and asked, "Does it have more oppression than my book?" I laughed and told him that it didn't. He was so thrilled that he won!

He cracks me up!

Mace

MACY'S PRAYER:

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for this day.

Thank you for President Monston. Thank you that he won't get sick.

(whispering) Dad, can you help me?

Greg (also whispering): You can do it by yourself. Just say things that you are thankful for.

(Pausing...Thinking...Looking around the room for inspiration...Spies Paige's pillow case full of barnyard animals.)

Thank you for horses that we can ride.

Thank you for chickens that wake us up in the morning.

Thank you for sheep that we can make clothes.

Thank you that Dad is my dad. Thank you that Emily is my mom. Thank you that Austin is my brother. Thank you that Paige is my sister. Thank you that Spencer and Kade are my baby brothers.

Thank you that I can have a happy life.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

* * *

Macy ran up to me in church today and showed me her picture. She said, "This is what I think heaven is like."

* * *

We started up with the scripture reading at night again (we have blown it for the past month), and Macy desperately wanted to read. So, we had her read the first verse:

And now I, Mormon, make a record of the things which I have both seen and heard, and call it the Book of Mormon. (Mormon 1:1)

She is only in Kindergarten, and is doing really great at her reading, but it takes a while for her to get through a verse of scripture - we do it pretty much word by word. When she got to the word, "call," she looked up at me and exclaimed: "You mean they had phones back in those days?!?" I laughed and explained the dual meaning of the word, "call." Hilarious!