Eight

I was actually tagged with this by two different people way back in the beginning of November. I know that I'm a little late in doing it, but I thought a post with lists of eight things each would be the perfect way to end 2008. So Beth and Ashley, thanks for the tag!

1. 8 TV shows I watch

1. Chuck
2. Heroes
3. The Office
4. Samantha Who
5. Burn Notice
6. Friends (on DVD)
7. I'm thinking about checking out The Mentalist
8. 30 Rock

2. 8 Favorite Restaurants

1. Happy Sumo
2. Goodwood
3. Costa Vida
4. Old Spaghetti Factory
5. Kneader's
6. California Pizza Kitchen
7. Tucano's
8. Mimi's Cafe

3. 8 Things that Happened Yesterday

1. I took a nap.
2. We went to the library and got a new library card.
3. I cleaned the kitchen. Twice.
4. Peter announced he wasn't going to ride his new birthday bike anymore because he kept falling off.
5. Peter rode his bike.
6. I took down the Christmas decorations.
7. Bryan and I made odd, though still edible, taco soup.
8. The boys and I read books.

4. 8 Things I’m looking forward to

1. Peter being potty-trained
2. Sleeping through the night
3. Meeting my niece. (I borrowed yours Beth. My niece is coming in February!)
4. Finding homes for the last few items that need to be unpacked
5. Spring
6. Summer
7. Having our own home.
8. Eating sugar-free goodies again. (Artificial sweeteners upset Cooper's stomach, so while he's nursing I have to avoid treats. It's worth it.)

5. 8 Things on my Wish List

1. A house
2. Watermelon (This is always on my wish list.)
3. A cure to food allergies so that Peter could eat at friends homes, and school when the time comes, without having his Epi-Pen nearby.
4. To not live in Utah. (No offense Utah, but I really miss California.)
5. Endless energy and creativity so that my boys have the intellectual stimulation they need to build their brains.
6. Endless patience (I’m stealing this one too.)
7. New clothes that don't have holes in them. (We're working on this one.)
8. Friends that I can actually hangout with. Facebook and blogs are great, but I need some real interaction.

6. 8 Things I Love

1. Bryan, Peter, Cooper and the rest of my family
2. Music
3. The library and reading
4. Learning
5. The scriptures and the Ensign
6. Warm weather
7. Laughing
8. Watermelon

7. 8 Things I Can’t Stand

1. Peas
2. That I can't reset my internal clock and become a morning person.
3. Drivers that don't watch for pedestrians in crosswalks.
4. Poor grammar
5. Rachel Ray (I don't know why. I'm sure she's a very nice person, I just can't watch her for more than a few minutes at a time.)
6. Drivers that don't use the turn signal.
7. That Bryan and I live so far away from our families.
8. Parents that have abdicated their responsibilities to their children and don't teach them.

8. 8 People I’m Tagging

1. Amanda
2. Ian. That's right, I'm tagging you separately. You can both answer these on your blog.
3. Gretel
4. Mom
5. Janet
6. Krystal
7. Derrik
8. Becky

And what better way to end than with the King of Eight from Sesame Street.

Happy 2009!

Paranoid

This might sound crazy, but I have a request. If anyone that reads this has a link to my blog, would you please make sure that my last name is not included? My first name? Fine. The title of my blog? Great! But my last name? I'd rather not.

Thanks for indulging my paranoia.

Watch Me

Awesome.

O Little Town of Bethlehem

During our Christmas Eve dinner we were explaining to Peter what Christmas is about, something we've been doing for the past month. Over our potato soup and wheat bread the following exchange took place:

Me: Jesus was born in humble circumstances.

Peter: No! He was born in Bethlehem.

Good to know he's been paying attention.

The Night Before Christmas

At our house on Christmas Eve we have a very simple dinner of soup and bread. It's a tradition that we started after we'd been married for a few years. Instead of a big fancy meal we eat our soup and talk about the Savior. This helps us focus on why we're celebrating Christmas. It also reminds us that there are many people throughout the world that don't have the luxuries that we have and would be thankful for a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. This meal is one of my favorite things about Christmas.

Are You Being Served?

So it's almost 10 at night. I was about to turn off the computer when someone pounded on the front door and rang the doorbell. We don't get many visitors this late at night. I asked Bryan to answer it. Turns out it was a man from the constable's office. He was looking for one of the guys that used to live here. We told him that we moved in a few weeks ago and didn't know the former tenants but recommended that he call the management company. He thanked us and left.

Seriously, what kind of stuff went on here before we moved in?

I'm Getting Nothing For Christmas

Now that we're having Christmas here I'm scrambling to figure out dinner for that night. Bryan said he wanted it to be different than Thanksgiving so we're having a roast instead of turkey. The only other things I know I want are cranberries (homemade, sweetened with honey so I can eat them) and pumpkin pie (same deal) which we also had for Thanksgiving. They're my favorites so Bryan will have to put up with repetition. Otherwise I've got nothing.

What other Christmas foods are there? I need ideas!

All I Want For Christmas

Idyllic Christmas scene

For the many people the ideal Christmas consists of the following:

• Cold weather
• Family
• Snow
  
• A delectable feast
• A Winter Wonderland
• Christmas carols
• Blizzard-like conditions
• Presents
  
• Frostbite setting in from trekking into the frigid air to buy said presents
• A jolly fat man in a red suit
• Did I mention snow?

I, however, am dreaming of a warm Christmas. You know, the kind where if you get a trampoline on Christmas morning, you can spend Christmas day using it in the backyard. This is the kind of warm holiday I had growing up and boy do I miss it.

My hometown.

We had been planning to go to Southern California for Christmas, but due to a number of circumstances, including the weather deciding to dump snow on Las Vegas (a sign of the Apocalypse, no?), we are staying in Utah. I'm trying not to be too sad about it. After all, I get to have a Norman Rockwell, picture perfect, snowy white Christmas. Lots of people, including my sister-in-law, would love this. But me? I'd like to wear flip-flops on the 25th.

Picky

I'm picky. I always have been. I think I may be the pickiest eater of all the kids in my family. In my defense, my dad is quite the experimental chef. His creations were either incredible or inedible. I think the pickiness was a form of self-preservation.

I was told my freshman year of college that I was too picky about guys. Someone asked me what was on my "list". You know, that list of qualities that almost every girl has in mind for her future husband to have. My mom's list had three things: he had to be older, taller, and a spiritual giant. Check, check, and check. My list was considerably longer. I had the spiritual giant thing on my list too, but I also wanted him to be able to sing with me and have intellectual conversations with me and make me laugh, and basically adore me. After rattling off my list one night my friend told me that I would never find someone with all of those characteristics and that I should lower my expectations. I ignored her. Enter Bryan two years later. Guess who met every item on my list? That's right, he did.

The picky problem reared it's head again today. I need clothes. I mean, I really need clothes. I don't need to be cutting edge in my fashion choices, I just don't want to look like a bag lady. I finally got some jeans last week that fit, (pregnancy does weird things to your shape, but that's a subject for another post) but I still need some shirts and a few new skirts. We had some gift cards so Bryan, Peter, Cooper, and I spent five hours at the mall today looking through store after store. After all that I came home with one skirt. That's all. I was just too picky to buy anything else.

Of course, being picky does have it's perks. Mostly the awesome husband part.

Sweet Big Brother

Peter: (Pointing at Cooper) He's a baby.

Me: Yes he is.

Peter: I like his little face.

Getting Some Grandma Time

Active Sleeper

He moves in his sleep. Can you tell?

Gifts From the Previous Tenants

The Saturday before we moved into our new apartment Bryan and I came and cleaned. The kitchen was pretty dirty, so that got the most attention. Next came the bathrooms. We vacuumed, changed light bulbs, and swept. The one thing that didn't get done was mopping the floors. Oh well, I thought, that can wait a little bit.

But then it was hard to find the floor to mop underneath all the boxes. After almost two weeks we finally uncovered the floor enough to mop it. I have one thing to say to all of the people that walked on my floor before it was mopped: I'm so very sorry. The floor was, well, filthy. It's a dark, stone-looking linoleum, so I couldn't really tell just how gross it was. It took me an hour and a half to mop the kitchen (which I had actually done the night before Thanksgiving), the dining room (the biggest offender), and both bathrooms. I was ready to drop by the time I finished. It was worth it though. The floors are so nice now. Our feet don't stick to them at all. Nice, eh?

On a side note, we found out that a number of single guys lived here before us, which kind of explains the less than sanitary state of the house. It does not explain however the lacy magenta thong Bryan found in the top of our closet. (Shudder) I made him wash his hands after he threw them away. So gross.

Oops

So, funny story. Including drafts I have 100 posts, but actual published items, this is number 97. So much for that whole 100th post thing.

I really need more sleep...

Unpacking

How do people blog while they're moving? These are skills which I do not possess.

Also, we have a lot of stuff.

And I love my garage.

The End.

100th Post

I was going to write something last week, but then I realized that this was my 100th post. It was kind of intimidating. I mean, I couldn't just write any old thing for my 100th post. It had to be something important. Or at least amusing. Right? So I've been agonizing over what I should immortalize here on my blog. Until it occurred to me that if I kept putting it off, I would never write anything. And so for my 100th post I'm writing about my 100th post.

Riveting, eh?

Found!

We found an apartment! Well, it's actually a condo. A fancy condo. Which is kind of weird for me. But it sure is pretty. Apparently this particular condo has been available for a while and has come down $250 since it was first listed, which put it just barely into our price range. Sweet.

The best thing about it is that it has an attached garage. A garage! I've never had a garage in which to park. The garage in my parent's house was for storage of stuff, not vehicles. I've always parked outside. Having a garage means that I can put the boys into the car without being snowed/rained on. Glorious.

The next big step is to actually move. We get the keys on Friday and have to be out of our current apartment by the 30th. I want to be totally moved by Thanksgiving, which is a little crazy. The big problem is that we think we'll move our stuff on Monday or Tuesday of next week, which isn't a great day for calling the Elder's Quorum and asking them to help lift stuff. My parents and my Grandma are coming for Thanksgiving, so they'll be here for all baby-wrangling purposes. I know that I'll be of slightly more help than I was the last time we moved, because I'm not eight-months pregnant (or any-months pregnant for that matter) and can actually carry stuff. But I'll be honest, I'm not that strong. This leaves Bryan as our muscle, which he can totally be, but I don't think he can lift all of our furniture by himself.

That said is anyone available and willing to help us move on Monday or Tuesday?

Oh, and I'm not saying where we're moving to, cause this is the internet and I'm appropriately paranoid. But it's not far from where we are now and closer to where we lived last.

Careful the Things You Say, Children Will Listen

Earlier this week we were going out as a family to look at apartments (shocking, I know) and rather than move Bryan's car out from behind our family car, Bryan did some tight maneuvering around it. When he was done I said in a rather breathless voice, "Well, that was exciting." Peter added his thoughts too, "That was dumb."

Whoa. That, my friends, is a naughty word. I looked at Bryan to see what he would do. I think maybe he was waiting for me. We ended up explaining that dumb means someone who can't speak. We also told him that he should find other words to use instead.

But you know what? Bryan says it. When he's frustrated with something he'll say "That's dumb."

Turns out he's not the only person influencing Peter's vocabulary. This week Peter dropped something on the ground and said, "Oh, that was not awesome." Guess who says that?

Drop Me Off Here Mom, I'll Walk the Last Mile to School

Yesterday we were out late looking for apartments and the boys were tired and cranky. So, we turned on Show Tune Saturday night (no, I'm not making that up, and yes, it is awesome) on the radio. I tried to distract them from their ill-tempers by doing a crazy dance, while still safely buckled into my seat. Peter looked at me and said, "Mom, don't do that. That's weird."

And so it begins...

Hi Paul.

I found out today that my brother-in-law reads my blog. I had no idea. So I'm just saying hi.

Civic Opportunity

I voted. Have you?

Ho Ho Ho

In August I asked Peter what he wanted to be for Halloween. He thought for a moment, then replied, "Santa Claus." I asked every week for the next month and only once did he answer something different, and even then he corrected himself and went back to Santa.

My thanks go out to Deseret Industries for having red sweats in Peter's size the day that I went to look and to Wal-Mart for carrying craft fur in white. He wore his church shoes to go trick or treating, but we forget them when we went to Bryan's grandparent's house for their Annual Halloween Party. Bummer that we don't have the whole ensemble captured for future generations.

We decided to follow the holiday theme. Cooper makes a swell Baby New Year.


I chose a holiday as well. Can you tell what I am? Big hint: I'm wearing red, white, and blue and I have a J on my shirt. Bryan dressed as Jim from The Office and his sister Melinda was a mad scientist.

Santa and Baby New Year are my favorites.

The Search

We're definitely moving, which is a shame since the mouse problem seems have gone away. Even better, we have to out by the end of November. Yup, we have a month to find a safe, clean, affordable place to live. We've seen some that are affordable, but not so much with the safe and clean. Bryan and I are both spending all of our free time looking for a place.

Wish us luck. We really don't want to be homeless.

For the Grandmas, part 2

"The Real One?"

Watch this. Seriously.

Salivating Slightly

My friend Jamie is a really good cook (okay, so I don't think I've ever actually eaten anything she's made, but I used to visit teach her and whenever we'd go over, her house would smell oh so very good, and since good smelling food is also often good tasting food, I'm going to make the small jump and say that she can cook) so when I saw her weekly menu posted on her blog tonight I clicked on one of the recipe links that looked interesting. After all, if Jamie was going to make it, that meant it had to be good, right?

The link took me to A Year of Crockpotting, specifically the Brown Sugar Chicken recipe.

I then proceeded to spend at least an hour looking through a few months worth of crockpot recipes, including how to cook beans (which even after a tutorial from my Grandma, I still get nervous about) and how to make your own baby food.

Yeah, I may have a new favorite blog.

Thanks Jamie.

Adding My Support

I don't live in California right now, but my family does. My dad wrote the following and sent it as a letter to the editor for their local paper. With his permission, I'm going to post it here:

Recently a majority of Californians voted to retain marriage as between a man and a woman. When four judges overturned the will of the majority, a very vocal minority rejoiced.

Marriage advocates gathered enough signatures to get Proposition 8 on the ballot to restore the definition of marriage. The vocal minority quickly found large donors to finance a media campaign against the will of the majority. It seemed that this vocal minority was the majority.

Gradually, however, many of the silent majority have spoken up, donating, canvassing, calling, putting up signs, sporting bumper stickers. As this grassroots support for marriage gained momentum, the illusion that the vocal minority were the majority dropped away.

Unfortunately, some members of the vocal opposition have taken to other methods: removing signs and bumper stickers, shouting curses at sign twirlers, even physically assaulting Proposition 8 supporters.

In America even the silent majority has the right to free speech, not just the vocal minority. If some resort to theft, vandalism, and violence, they are only admitting by their actions that they have the weaker argument, the less worthy cause. We should express ourselves respectfully and let the entire electorate work it out at the polls.

Please, if you live in California vote yes on Proposition 8.

Expressions...and Grean Beans

What I Woke Up To This Morning

It's still October, right?

Bending the Rules

My friend Charlynn tagged me. Here are the rules:

Take the 4th picture from your 4th file and post it and then tag 4 people.

I cheated just a little bit. My 4th file, 4th picture was one of Bryan from Halloween a few years ago. We dressed up in 80's garb. He was very Miami Vice. I didn't think he'd love me putting that one up. So instead I chose the 4th file from the end and the 4th picture from the end of that file. It happened to be full of pictures of Peter and Cooper. Can't go wrong there, eh? This picture was taken at the beginning of August.

Thanks for the tag Charlynn. I feel like one of the cool kids.

The Mice Are Getting Bolder

Ten points to anyone who can identify which musical the title comes from.

(Aside: I'm not really keeping track of points, but I wonder what the conversion rate of points to Schrute bucks is...)

Are you tired of reading about the mice in our house? I know I'm tired of experiencing it. I've mentally been writing this post for a few days. There was going to be lots of complaining and ranting about unsanitary living conditions and the burden of carting my kids around in the car for days because we couldn't be home due to the smell of bleach wafting about our house as a result of disinfecting the mouse droppings and about how all four of us have been sleeping in our room (often all in the same bed, ouch) because Peter's room is right next to the kitchen. Yeah, it was going to be nice and angry.

But I've changed my mind. And it's thanks to Pahoran and Captain Moroni.

I'm right at the end of the book of Alma in the Book of Mormon in my personal scripture study. In chapter 60 Moroni sends off an epistle to Pahoran, the Chief Judge of the land. This letter is full of all kinds of righteous indignation because the armies that are fighting to defend the liberty of the Nephites have not received any aid from the government. Moroni wants to know why and goes so far as to accuse Pahoran of being more concerned with obtaining power than protecting his people. It might sound odd, but this is kind of how I've felt towards our landlord this week. I don't think he's after power, but I haven't felt that he has our best interest in mind.

Pahoran could have been just as upset with Moroni for accusing him like that. He could have written an angry letter back. But he doesn't. Chapter 61 is his reply. He says he has been run out of the judgement seat and that's why Moroni hasn't gotten the supplies that the army needs. But he is so glad that Moroni has such strong feelings and is working in the defencse of his people.

I can only see the rodent problem from my perspective. Who knows how our landlord sees it. It's true that my landlord and I don't see eye to eye on the mouse thing, but I don't have to write a crazy post complaining about it. Who knows, I still might if the problem persists. I guess what I'm saying is, I don't like the problem, but maybe I can't see the whole picture. We won't put the boys in danger by staying in a place where there mice spreading disease, but I don't have to completely condemn the landlord for it either.

Maybe this is part of the lesson that I needed to learn from this particular trial.

Fighting Mice

I'll be back soon. I hope.

No Reason, I Just Like Looking At My Boys

Thanks for taking these pictures Ian and Amanda. Hope you don't mind that I'm borrowing them.

Critter Update

We found the mice. They appear to be living in our stove. We won't be potty training today.

The Obligatory Potty Training Post

For the most part, I am not a lazy mom. Notice how I started that with "for the most part"? I've come to the realization that I am kind of lazy about one thing:

I really don't want to potty train Peter yet.

The fact that he is still in diapers makes my life much easier in so many ways. I can nurse Cooper without having to jump up and rush Peter to the bathroom. We can go shopping without leaving our loot unattended. I don't have to clean up any accidents. Yes, I do have to change diapers, but they don't really bother me. Plus those messes stay pretty well contained.

But I keep hearing about all these little boys that are younger than Peter and have successfully finished wearing diapers. If they were little girls I wouldn't be concerned. After all, don't boys have a reputation for taking longer to hit this particular milestone? But they're not girls, they're boys.

Peter has been telling me since April that he wanted to stop wearing diapers. Lest you think I've put him off for six months, know that I have tried. Kind of. We went out and bought a special little toilet, pull-ups, awesome Lighting McQueen big boy underwear as an incentive. But none of it seemed to make much of a difference. I think that his mind was ready, but the rest of him was not. He's spent lots of time trying, with some success, but not much.

And so, the underwear remains unworn, the pull-ups have been used when we've run out of diapers, and I saw Peter carrying around the inside of his little toilet today as a handy tote for his sippy cup. It was clean, but still gross.

I've begun to wonder, is he not potty trained because he's not ready, or because I'm not ready? It is with this thought in mind that I've been toying with the idea of potty training him this weekend. It's General Conference, so we don't have to go to church on Sunday. We can stay at home and follow Peter around with towels.

And if it doesn't work this weekend, I think I may be content to wait until the next General Conference.

To Do or Not To Do

So, I know I've already posted briefly about Mormon Mommy Blogs. My original question about it was because I thought that the whole idea was kind of silly. I mean, what was the point of all those blogs listed together? It seemed like a "look at me, look at me" kind of site. And then yesterday I went and checked it out again. And I read their purpose.

And I kind of agree with it.

This is part of their mission statement:

I originally called this site "Mormon Mommy Blogs" because I was kind of tired of hearing other Mormon bloggers derisively talking about mommy bloggers, as though we were all just a silly bunch of non-consequential fluff-meisters. (I mean, in my case, YES, TRUE, but still.)

I thought it would be fun to put together a site that showed how many of us there are, and how varied and unique we all are. The Mommy tag was more of an in-your-face thing, less of an actual label, although I wear it with pride. "I am Mommy Blogger, hear me roar."

I'm mature enough to admit when I'm wrong. But now I'm faced with the question: since I agree with what they're doing, should I show my support by adding my blog to the list? And the additional, somewhat anxiety-ridden quandary: into which category would my blog be placed?

Nephew and Uncle

Can you tell they're related?

While You Were Sleeping

I've been spending a lot of time recently holding a sleeping Cooper. Part of the reason I think that he has heartburn is that he seems to sleep better when he's upright. Anyway, I'm online more trying to keep myself awake. (I sit in my dark room so as not to wake Cooper up with the light, otherwise I'd probably read some books that have been calling my name.) I love reading blogs, but I get to a point where I don't really want to read anymore. And so, I turn to Hulu.


Oh Hulu, my good friend.

I've watched at least one full television series on Hulu. You can watch current shows or canceled shows. Bryan had never seen Some Like It Hot, so we watched it on Hulu.

Between Redbox and Hulu, our date nights are totally covered.

The Bread

I've never posted a recipe before. It feels kind of weird. Oh well. This one is worth it. This is the bread I wrote about before. So good. As far as I know this recipe came from a cookbook that my Great-Aunt Cleo wrote. My mom took it and tinkered with it a bit. I've done some additional tweaking.

Ingredients:

• 5 cups warm water
• 3 Tbsp instant yeast
• 2/3 cup powdered milk
• 2/3 cup vegetable oil
• 2/3 cup honey
• 2 Tbsp salt
• 11-14 cups flour (white, wheat, or a combination thereof)

1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
   
2. Get a really, really big bowl.
   
3. Briefly mix together water, yeast, and a spoonful of the honey. Let it stand about 15 minutes, or until the yeast has puffed-up.
4. Stir in powdered milk.
5. Add the oil.
6. Add the rest of the honey. (I pour it into the same cup that I used for the oil. The honey slides right out.)
7. Add the salt. (I've forgotten this step a few times. It's not so good.)
8. Mix thoroughly.
9. Gradually begin to add the flour. I like to add about 5 cups at a time.
10. Here's where I've changed the original process a bit. Right around 12 cups of flour it gets hard to stir. So, make sure that your hands are clean and knead the dough right in the bowl to add the rest of the flour. This saves time because then you don't have to clean up a messy, flour-covered counter when you're done. Also, I've discovered that I use less flour this way, resulting in lighter bread.
11. When you're done kneading, place the bowl of dough, covered with a towel, on your warming stove. Let it rise for at least 30 minutes.
    
12. After it's risen, punch it down and form it into loaves. I get 4 or 5 loaves from each batch.
13. Baked in greased bread pans for 35 minutes at 350 degrees.
14. Eat when it's still warm with a little margarine and some jam. Or totally plain. It also makes wonderful toast. And sandwiches. And probably any other food that requires delicious bread.

Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go have some bread.

Sleepy Song

Cooper makes this noise whenever he's falling asleep. Peter did it too, but his version was much quieter. Cooper gets so loud that if he starts to fall asleep in church we have to take him outside. I had never heard of a baby singing himself to sleep, but apparently it's a normal thing among Bryan's siblings. I wonder if they any of them still sing the "sleepy song" as they fall asleep.



By the way, Bryan's chest is Cooper's favorite place to sleep. That's where he is in this movie.

Brain Dump

I finally have a few minutes to write something and my brain is too scattered to write a real, coherent post about one topic. So, we're going to do a brain dump. That's what Bryan called the last one of these that I did. I thought it was an appropriate name.

1. I'm listening to the playlist on the blog of someone that I went to high school with. I usually don't have headphones nearby when I'm on the computer, so this is kind of novel.
2. Are Bryan and I the only people that think rodents should not be a normal part of cooler weather? I'm sorry, let me correct that. I mean rodents living in your ceiling. All four of us spent a night in Peter's room this week after a rather tense discovery that not only was something skittering about in the air duct in our ceiling, but we have a number of unfinished areas in our apartment. Peter's room was the only one without any holes, entrances if you will, for small things to come into our living space. Bryan and I actually had a repeat of our creepy crawly adventure and spent most of the weekend deep cleaning the kitchen. Not awesome. Bryan spent a few hours yesterday covering/filling holes. I really hope he found all of them.
3. I paused in my writing of this post to hold Cooper for the last hour or so. While lying on my bed, holding him, reading blogs, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. It was a spider. On my bed. I couldn't jump up because I was holding a sleeping baby so I did the next best thing. I grabbed the baby blanket the spider happened to be walking on and threw it across my room. I meant to squish it, but as soon as I realized I was holding a blanket with a live spider crawling on it, my natural instincts took over. So yeah, I just sent a spider sailing across my room. And now I'm afraid to walk on the carpet.
4. I think Cooper has heartburn. He hates to sleep lying down. We've known for a long time that his digestion had some issues, but I'm afraid it may be getting worse.
5. I'm really excited for my brother and sister-in-law to visit us this week. They'll be here on Saturday. Good thing we just deep cleaned the kitchen. (That, my friends, is what's called the silver lining.)
6. I've thought of other things to add to this brain dump, but I kind of want each of them to have their own post. Which means I'll probably never write about them.
7. Bryan really wants me to start using tags. I'm trying, I just have a hard time remembering. There. I just tagged this one.
8. I'm really excited for the Office season premiere tomorrow. Or would that be the The Office season premiere?
9. My apartment has cooled down to 76.6 degrees. I miss having control over the thermostat.
10. It's officially Autumn now.

Okay, that's enough for now. Goodnight!

Yarrrrrgh

Oh, and happy Talk Like a Pirate Day.

Absent

The boys have decided to adopt wildly different schedules. Peter has started waking up between 6 and 6:30 in the morning. Not cool. Cooper, on the other hand hasn't been settling down until between 11 and midnight. This makes for a very tired mommy. Oh, and no time to blog.

Hope to be back soon.

One More Week, Folks

Today multiple people at church referred to "this beautiful Autumn Sunday". Fall begins September 22. It's still summer. Not that there's anything wrong with Autumn, but I really love Summer, and I'm not going to give it up until I have to.

That is all.

Domestic Diva

I totally made this.

By "totally made this" I of course mean that a nice woman in my ward invited me over, provided the apples, grinder, canner, and expertise. I brought the jars and did whatever she told me to do.

I really did make this.

I make ridiculously good bread, did you know?

Just a Thought

Do so many people have blogs because they secretly want to be famous?

Cleverness of Others

My last two posts were all about the funny things that Peter says. Lets be honest, most of what I write has to do with what Peter says. I include his verbal gems on here for three reasons:

1. It's funny.
2. I know that the grandparents (my parents and Bryan's parents) read my blog and love getting Peter stories.
3. I want to remember them. I tell myself that whatever he's said is so funny that of course I'll remember. But I don't always. And that makes me a little sad.
   

But today I started to wonder if doing this follows my original goal for this blog. Does including these things really help my intellectual prowess?

Yes.

Being clever isn't just saying funny things. I think a major part of it is recognizing the cleverness around you. So, by including Peter's quips, I am being clever, because I realize and choose to document just how funny he is. And I think I'm a little smarter for it.

Grandparent's Day

Yesterday was Grandparent's Day. This is kind of a funny holiday because, really, isn't everyday grandparent's day? Nevertheless, I am glad that we have a specific day to let our grandmas and grandpas know how wonderful they are.

Peter and I made a card to take to Bryan's grandparent's. After I wrote the text I told Peter he could color it. After using his blue crayon all over the inside of the card he held it up and said, "I wrote 'Your Secret Admirer.com'."

My mom told me that in her education classes they were taught that the people of her generation are immigrants to technology, but their students are natives. Peter is definitely a native.

Playing House

Last night we went to Bryan's grandparent's house for Sunday dinner. Peter loves going and especially enjoys playing with the toys in the basement. Bryan was down there with him last night when Peter and his cousin Oliver (who is two years older) had the following exchange:

Oliver: I'm going to play the daddy. Peter you be the mommy.
Peter: No, I'm a boy. I will be the daddy.
Oliver: No, I'm the bigger kid, and that means you do what I say.
Peter: I have the duck. (Holds up duck decoy.)
Oliver: Okay.

I tell you, with those persuasion skills, he should be a lawyer.

Photo Shoot

My sister-in-law Amanda is in the Navy and sent Peter this cute shirt. We wanted her to see the fruit of her shopping labor by sending her a picture of Peter standing and smiling and showing off his new shirt. Much like his dad, he doesn't perform on command. I'm including all the pictures we took because I think it tells an important story about how hard it is to get a two-year-old to be still for more than a moment.

Thanks for the shirt Amanda!

To Tell the Truth

Last night my visiting teacher came over. I had purposely made the appointment for late in the evening hoping that Peter would be asleep. No such luck. I thought he had nodded off because I hadn't heard ANYTHING from his room for an hour. When I put Cooper down and went to make sure my house was presentable before the appointment I looked into Peter's room. I think he might have been right on the verge of sleep, but my intrusion pulled him back into a fully conscious state. I told him that my visiting teacher would be there any minute, so I was going to pull his door closed so we wouldn't bother him. His room is between the kitchen and the family room (not an ideal location for a boy who has trouble sleeping anyway) so he heard when she arrived. He kept calling out from his room. "Mommy, are you on the rocking chair?" "Mommy, is your visiting teacher sitting on the couch?" "Mommy, what is she saying now?" I finally went in and got him. He got to sit with me in the rocking chair for the visit. My VT asked Peter how old he was.

VT: How old are you Peter?
Peter: I'm 4.
Me: What? No you're not. How old are you really?
Peter: I'm 5.
Me: Peter! How old are you?
Peter: I'm 12.

He thought this was terribly funny. To be honest, so did I. It reminds a little bit of my brother Ian. He tells funny, funny stories. Once when he was telling a particularly tall-tale I stopped him, asking if it was true. He exhaled, cocked his head to one side, and said, "Margot, sometimes I say things that aren't true. That doesn't mean it's a lie. It's just not true." Hmm... I think I may be using a different definition of true. Anyway, I still tease him about this. (Which is probably what I'm doing right now.) Maybe that whole spinning-of-yarns thing is genetic.

I'll have to go ask my 12-year-old about it.

What's In a Name?

Bryan asked me the other day if I liked Cooper's name. I didn't answer right away. Bryan, while holding a sleeping Cooper, said that he did. I feel kind of bad that I didn't say "Yes, of course, I love his name!" I know that we're not going to change it at this point and that I will probably be used it to it eventually, but I'm not quite there yet.

We had a terrible time coming up with the names of both of our boys. With Peter we had a great girl name picked out (we still have it and still like it) but no boy name. We chose not to find out if Peter was a boy or a girl until he was born, and because we couldn't agree on a boy name, I joked that that meant it must be a boy. Peter was due on Christmas Eve. On December 23 we went to see The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. I love the books and while sitting there watching the movie I started thinking about what a wonderful character Peter Pevensie was. You know, great older brother, strong moral compass, High King of Narnia, etc. Anyway, it was there in the movie theater that I really thought that the baby's name might be Peter. I floated the idea to Bryan and he didn't like it at first. Neither of us like Pete so much, so we were apprehensive to use the name Peter. But it wouldn't leave my mind. About an hour before Peter was born Bryan looked at me and said "I think the baby's name is Peter." I said I thought so too.

Brand new Peter

As far as the Pete thing goes, if he chooses to use the nickname Pete when he's older, then that is up to him, but we will call him Peter. And we will let other people know that it's Peter. Except for my Grandma Bonnie, who's the only person allowed to call him Petey, as in sweetie Petey.

The funny thing is, even though I'm the one that suggested the name Peter, it took me months to be used to having a child by that name. Is that weird? Peter was a name that I had always liked, but not one that I had ever had on my short list of future children's names. Of course, now I love it and I know that it suits him perfectly, but it took me some time to get to that point.

When we found out we were having another boy we began looking for names again. The only boy name Bryan really likes is Jack. I like it too, but he has a cousin named Jack and I'm not a fan of repeating names within a family. Yes, lots of people do it, I just think it would be too confusing. Also, Jack has gotten fairly popular, and I try to shy away from the trendy names. Anyway, I would spend hours searching baby naming sites and looking through our baby name book waiting for inspiration to strike. Nothing. The Sunday before Cooper was born I was at it again. This time I had a pad of paper to see how the various first names looked with the middle and last name. (We had already agreed to use Bryan's grandpa's name as the middle name.) I wrote down two names: Conrad and Cooper. I don't remember why I put Conrad on the list, but I liked the meaning of Cooper. Not so much the denotation (barrel maker) as the connotation (someone who understands and is willing to work hard to accomplish a task). Bryan looked at them and didn't really say anything. I thought that meant he liked both. Turns out that he only liked one of them. A few days later when Cooper was born and the nurse asked us if we had a name picked out Bryan looked at me, shrugged, and said "Cooper?"

Brand new Cooper

I do like his name, really. It's just the same thing that I went through with Peter, I simply never imagined myself having a child named Cooper. I can't imagine not having him though, which I think is a good step toward being completely comfortable with his name.

Story Time

Our bedtime routine consists of family prayer, two books, the Peter story, and two songs. I do nap time and Bryan does bedtime. It takes no more than ten minutes and helps Peter calm down for the night. Usually.

Recently Peter has started asking me to sing the books that we read before sleeping. We have some books that are illustrated versions of songs, so I thought maybe he was under the impression that all stories had music that went with them. I had been telling him I didn't know the music to the book in question and then just reading it.

I discovered the real reason behind his requests. Apparently Bryan has been turning all of their bedtime stories into rock operas. Some are more rock, some are more opera, all are highly entertaining as you can tell from the picture above. In this photo Bryan is singing the book I Love You, Mommy. Can you tell that both boys are enjoying it?

Today when we were doing the nap time routine, instead of just asking me to sing, Peter asked me to "make up the tune" for the book. He must know that his nightly concert is improvised. Honestly, for all of my vocal training and experience it's not always easy to come up with a "tune" on the spot.

Bryan, you're a tough act to follow.

In Case You Were Wondering What Happens to Peter When He Eats Eggs

Sorry about the food in his mouth. He was eating during our little photo shoot. Also, I just realized that his head, which is quite large, looks even bigger in this picture than it does normally. Sorry Peter.

Peter accidentally ate some mayo on Sunday before church. I realized this when he was almost done with the offending sandwich. Benedryl was quickly administered and I grabbed the camera to document the reaction that the eggs had on him. He can't say the "v" sound, so he kept saying that he had "hibes".

On a side note, giving your child Benedryl right before church is one way to keep them from acting up during the meeting. I don't recommend it, but it's certainly effective.

Promptings

I woke up at 4:10 this morning with the thought that I should go check on Peter. I really wanted to ignore it because I had had a hard time getting to sleep the night before and was really tired, but I got up. I decided to get a drink of water first. While I was in the kitchen Peter called to me and this exchange took place:

Peter: Mommy?
Me: Yes, Peter?
Peter: Mommy, I'm not going to throw up again.

Oh dear.

I went in to check, and sure enough, he clearly didn't feel well. I will not include details because, well, that would be gross. But the situation required attention. Bryan had heard us talking and came in. I cleaned up Peter while he cleaned up the bed/floor. Shortly thereafter Cooper decided to join us. So our whole family was up before 5 AM.

A few minutes after Cooper woke up I needed to go back into my room for something, I don't remember what. While there I had the thought that I should change my shirt. Now, I'm not sure why one pajama shirt is better than another, but I followed the impression. As I was changing I turned toward the corner where Cooper's bed is and saw, from a across a dark room, a spider. The fact that I could see it from where I was with almost no light should tell you how big that thing was. Bryan came in to see why I had just called out and saw it too. Bryan served his mission in Brazil where they have spiders the size of dinner plates, so I didn't think he would agree with me that it was wicked big. But he did. Apparently the really big spiders are only outdoors in Brazil. Or maybe it was that this spider, while only (only!?) the size of a 50 cent piece, was right by his baby's bed. He vacuumed it up with the shop vac, then plugged the vacuum hose so that it couldn't crawl back out. Just in case.

How does one type the sound that accompanies grossed-out chills and shivers? Just curious.

Anyway, after the spider was taken care of Bryan decided to go into work to get his laptop so that he could work from home in case I needed the extra help. (I did.) So the boys and I hung out in Peter's room for the next hour as he continued to be, um, sick. The only time Peter is still is when he's ill. He was still for most of the day. We got through four chapters in The Long Winter (most days we're lucky to read two chapters). He usually plays with blocks or colors while I read, but today he just laid there.

By the evening he was feeling better and wanted run around and play. However, we weren't quite as confident in his recovery and insisted that he should play quietly without any running, jumping, or dancing.

It's been a long day, but I'm thankful for those promptings that I got this morning. The Holy Ghost is a major part of my ability to be a good mom.

Brain Food

I read a book! May I suggest a few possible responses to this statement:

1. Huzzah!
2. Well done. The decline of literacy in our society is the single greatest calamity of the decade, nay, the century.
   
3. Was it Cat in the Hat?
4. So?

I'd go with huzzah personally. It's been so long since I read a whole book that it was like drinking a cool glass of water on a hot day. (See that? Sounds totally literary, no?) Anyway, I've been so busy and tired getting used to caring for both boys that I hadn't finished a whole book in a while. Okay that's not true. I finish books every day, but I needed something that did not come from Peter's library.

I read Austenland by Shannon Hale*. I'm also currently reading three non-fiction books, which are great, but I was in the mood for some fun fiction. I'm not a rabid Austen fan, so I had avoided reading it. And by "not a rabid", I mean that I've only been able to get through her stuff in audio book form. (Feel free to judge me, I really don't care.) Granted, I haven't tried since high school. But I do enjoy the movies. I loved it! And it was a quick read, which was good because my reading time is limited. This might sound like an odd way to praise a book, but it was like reading a really well written blog. And I do love a well written blog.


*Go check out her official site. She is one funny lady.

What Happens When You Take a Nap on Daddy's Chest

Changes

While looking for pictures to include in my anniversary post, I came across a few that made me realize how much I've changed in the past seven years. Here is an example:

There are a few important points I'd like to draw your attention to

• I'm wearing make-up. I mean full make-up. Like foundation and blush and everything. Now I wear mascara, lotion, and chapstick to church and lotion (if I'm lucky) the rest of the week.
• My hair is curled. I forgot that I used to do that. Man, how did I have that kind of time? Oh right, I didn't have kids. And look at how long it is. I have firmly avoided having a "mom" haircut, although it is much shorter than that now. And even when it was long, I didn't do anything with it. Well, I guess at one time I did.
• My face is full. In the years since this picture was taken my face has gotten longer and thinner, but I still think of myself having a full face. I even made a comment to someone about Cooper getting his very chubby cheeks from me (it's true) and they looked at me like I was nuts.
• I'm wearing a cute shirt. I discovered recently that all of my shirts have holes in them. It was rather depressing actually. I think it's because I wore most of them while I was pregnant and strained the fabric too much. Even when they didn't have holes, most of them are free t-shirts from BYU. And, sadly, I still wear my free holey shirts on a regular basis because I haven't found the time or money to replace them. Chic, eh?

Of course, there are a few other things that have changed since this picture was taken:

Yeah, totally worth it.