Somebody's Watching Me

Yesterday in church the speakers talked about following the Prophet. One speaker talked about when the women of the church were asked to only have one earring in each ear. As soon as she said that Peter turned toward me, leaned a little so he could see both my ears, gave a quick nod, and said, "Good."

There are two things about his reaction that make me happy. The first is that he was listening! We spend a great deal of time during Sacrament Meeting helping the boys to be still and at least face forward. Most of the time I'm pretty sure that their minds are elsewhere. But yesterday, Peter was definitely paying attention, which means he probably listens more than I give him credit for.

The second is that Peter understands that it's important to be obedient to the things the Prophet has asked us to do. He was checking up on me, making sure that I was doing the very thing that I've told him to do: obey. In that moment I was especially thankful for the choice that I made long ago to follow the Prophet.

A Chicken In Every Pot (Pie)

I've cooked three dinners this week. One was fantastic, one was adequate, and one was kind of gross.

The adequate dinner was peach pancakes. I over-mixed them and they ended up kind of tough. For someone that makes pancakes as often as I do, I should have known better.

The gross dinner was porcupine meatballs. We have two recipes: one out of a cookbook and one that Bryan's mom taught me. I trade off which one I make. This time it came from the cookbook. The meatballs didn't hold together, so it turned into porcupine meat sauce. I'm not sure why it tasted so awful, but I do know that I'm going to use Bryan's mom's recipe more often from now on.

The fantastic dinner was chicken pot pie and it was so very good. I had two recipes that I couldn't choose between, so I used bits and pieces of both. It is for that reason that I'm writing this post. I want to remember what I did to produce such yumminess. And Bryan and I had a kind of post-mortem and discussed what could be done next time to make it even better.

Chicken Pot Pie

Combine:

• 2 cups chicken (I only used 1 cup and shredded it, but I think following the original recipe and using 2 cups would be better. And don't shred it, the chicken disappeared into the sauce just a little too much.)
• 2 cups California blend vegetables, cooked till al dente (I used 1 1/2 cups, but more would be better.)
• 1 cup of cooked (not mushy) potato, diced (One medium-sized potato was plenty.)

In a saucepan:

• Melt 1/4 cup butter and add the following:
• 1/3 cup flour
• 1/2 tsp salt (I think I'll add a little more next time.)
• 1/4 tsp thyme (The recipe called for sage. I didn't have any, so I used thyme.)
• 1/4 tsp rosemary
• 1/8 tsp pepper
• 1/2 dash (Does that make sense?) garlic powder
• 3 cups milk

Stir contents of saucepan over medium heat until sauce thickens. Be patient, it might take a while. Pour sauce over chicken and vegetable mixture, stir till evenly coated. Pour that into a 9-inch pie crust. Top with a second pie crust. Seal the edges and add a few slits to the top.

Bake at 425 degrees for 20 minutes with a layer of aluminum foil around the edges of the pie. Remove the foil and bake for an additional 15 minutes.

Let cool, while basking in the delightful aromas wafting from your kitchen.

The Last Thing

This morning I gave Peter the task of emptying a large diaper box that the boys had filled with toys. He and the box were in the closet while Cooper and I were winding up the vacuum cord. I was surprised when he announced that he had finished quickly after starting the project.

Peter: (exiting the closet, holding a rogue bathtub toy that had ended up in the box) Whew, the very last thing is to put the boat away. (He puts the boat in the bathroom and returns.) The very, VERY last thing is to do everything else.

Pesky everything else...

Yo-Ho, Yo-Ho

It's P Week at our house. So far we've eaten peach pancakes and made pumpkin muffins, met with some neighborhood friends to listen to a police officer talk about safety, and repeatedly practiced the sound that P makes.

And on Monday, we were pirates.

We found our best pirate clothes.

We carried swords.

We sailed in our pirate ship.

We even had a treasure hunt. It was a treacherous search through a jungle forest, across a wide lake, and over a snowy mountain, but fear not, we triumphed.

TV as Preschool

We watched a lot of TV last week. A LOT. Way more than I was comfortable with, but because we were all so very sick, there wasn't much else we could do. While checking to see what kid friendly shows would be coming on when, I discovered that we get Nick Jr.

Nick Jr. shows Franklin.

We switched from PBS and Disney Channel to Nick Jr. on Friday. Peter spent some time explaining to me how and why Franklin got into the television. There were other shows the boys enjoyed as well, such as Toot and Puddle, Little Bear, Olivia, basically all the shows that were based on literature.

They did NOT like Yo Gabba Gabba.

One thing that I thought was interesting about Nick Jr. was their slogan: It's like Preschool on Television. As first I appreciated the educational focus and the puzzles that popped up during commercial breaks. Then it occurred to me, "I bet there are parents that plop their children in front of the TV for hours at a time thinking that it's great because it's 'just like Preschool'."

And that's when I turned off the TV.

Finding Balance

I've been feeling off balance lately. Do you know that feeling? Like there aren't enough hours in the day for me to do everything that I've committed to do, or everything that's expected of me. It's kind of the same feeling I get when Bryan, Peter, and Cooper are all talking to me at once, with Phoebe singing or babbling in the background, and each of them expecting me to be able to comprehend what they're saying and answer intelligently. (Well, maybe Phoebe doesn't expect that.) My brain simply cannot go in that many directions at once.

At least one of those things is something that I should be doing. Our Bishop has asked each of the adults in our ward to have an "Hour of Power." That means he wants each of us to study the gospel (scriptures, lessons for Sunday, General Conference talks, church magazines) for an hour everyday. I told him I thought that was a wonderful thing, but I had one question.

How?

Where was that hour going to come from? Which child was I going to ignore in order to have an hour to focus on the scriptures? He talked about reading fewer blogs, watching less TV, and maybe giving up some sleep. I actually laughed out loud when he said the part about sleep, then quickly covered my mouth and apologized.

See, I'm pretty much maxed out as far as how much sleep I can give up. Any less and I won't be functional. And I don't really watch TV as it is, just a few things when I'm up in the middle of the night feeding Phoebe and too bleary eyed to read. And I've trimmed the blogs that I read.

But I want to be obedient, so the hour has been coming from other places. I realized early on that I can't do sixty minutes all in a row, it's simply not feasible. So I catch a few minutes here and there wherever I can. I read my scriptures on my phone because I can carry them with me and read while I tidy up or while I'm playing with the boys.

It's still been really stressful trying to get that hour done though. Isn't that awful? Shouldn't reading Gospel materials for so long each day bring me an added measure of peace? Actually, I'm sure it would if I weren't so focused on the clock. And it would be nice if I had time to read other books, but I don't. Nope, apparently I can only eek out one hour a day to read, and that is all.

Today Peter had a computer day. He only gets to use it once or twice a week. As he played games on pbskids, I sat and fed Phoebe (Cooper was napping) and tried to read my scriptures. I got twenty-six minutes in before she was done eating and wanted to play.

I'm always amazed at children that don't want their parents' constant attention. Sure, mine can go for stretches without saying "Mommy, look!" but it's only a few minutes at a time. And I do love playing with them, and Phoebe is so sweet and such a happy smiley baby, I love looking into her sparkly blue eyes and doing things to make her laugh. But I feel like I can't spend all of my time playing, that I need to clean and cook and keep the boys from throwing toys at the other one's head. Yeah, this is definitely another aspect of feeling off balance.

I had the thought that maybe lds.org had audio versions of the articles from the Ensign. Turns out they do. I spent the remainder of my hour listening to these articles, and laughing and talking to and playing with Phoebe. I would pause the recording when Peter had questions, then start it back up.

It was an answer to prayer.

There are other areas that I'm still off-kilter on. Lots of areas. But, at least for today, I found a happy balance between being a good mom and being spiritually fed.

The Other Shoe Dropped

I almost forgot to post today. You'd think that after two years a habit would be ingrained, but apparently not. Or maybe it's because today has been very... odd.

You see, Cooper's Tuesday illness hit the rest of us within a space of fours hours. It picked us off one at a time. First me, then Bryan, then Peter, then Phoebe. While it was awful for the bigger people (and it was), we were mostly concerned about Phoebe. She surprised us by handling it better than anyone. She seemed to understand that she couldn't eat and didn't even ask to nurse, a highly unusual thing for our girl that loves to eat. And while she was clearly in pain when she threw-up, she went back to sleep easily each time.

Not much sleeping happened for me or Bryan or Peter, at least, not more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time. Maybe that's why I almost forgot to post: today just feels like an extension of yesterday.

We're on the mend now, although we've all been left with extreme body aches and wicked (not awesome) headaches. And poor Cooper. Because he was sick and recovered before anyone else he had lots of happy, two-year-old energy today and absolutely no one to play with. I gathered the strength in the evening to sit and read to him, but he was more interested in jumping on my bed and running around my room. Funny how not eating food for twenty-four hours (and still being responsible for another person's nutritional needs) can leave you a bit low on energy.

Hand Talk

Um... wow. I used to practice tap routines with my hands during class, but I never did anything like this.

Paige, thanks for sharing this.

When Stomachs Attack

Here are my top three least favorite things about having a sick child:

1. Watching helplessly while they suffer
2. Cleaning up after whatever the current illness spews out
3. Waiting and wondering if anyone else is going to get the illness and how long this one is going to stick around

We had a fun morning yesterday with friends. We went to a local Fire Station and got a tour, then went and ate lunch with the same crowd. We'd been home for a few hours when I glanced over at Cooper and thought he looked a little odd. And that's when the fountain of vomit rained forth from his lips. (My apologies to those with a weak stomach.)

I had been about to feed Phoebe when this happened. I quickly changed gears. Phoebe went into her baby rocking chair (which Peter had brought into the bathroom for me, bless him), Cooper went into the tub, and Peter was sent to turn on a movie for Cooper to watch when he was done being hosed down. Cooper actually had three baths yesterday. We discovered he has a strong aversion to throwing-up in a bowl and much prefers to use his front and the surrounding carpet and couch as a vomit receptacle.

Our washing machine was continually employed throughout the afternoon and evening.

The poor little guy couldn't eat or drink anything and finally went to sleep for the night around two in the morning. Bryan stayed up with him and then got up twice more during the night to help him. I appreciated that since I needed to help Phoebe during the night.

Cooper woke up this morning smiling, his usual, bouncy self. He ate saltines and drank fizzy stuff and generally behaved as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened yesterday. I'm still waiting on number three on my list. No one else has gotten sick, but I'm not sure if it's too soon to declare an all-clear. Perhaps it was food poisoning from our fast-food lunch? That would explain why no one else was plagued. Except that Peter and Cooper ate the exact same meal.

Whatever caused it, I'm glad that Cooper is better.

Fill 'Er Up

Peter: (flopping onto my bed after a long day at Ikea) Mom, I need to have a little rest.

Me: Are you all out of energy?

Peter: (thinking) Mom, do you know why I have 100 gallons of energy?

Me: Why?

Peter: It's so I can do whatever I want, all the time.

Me: Well, what happened to your energy today?

Peter: (with a "well-isn't-it-obvious" tone of voice) Mom, it fills up in the morning and is empty at night.

I could definitely use 100 gallons of energy.

Girls of Rock and Roll

When I was in third grade I auditioned for the school talent show with three different acts. The first was a song I had made up and sang sans accompaniment in front of my class. I did not get in. The third was a skit I was in with a handful of other girls about the importance of kindness and the value of inner beauty over outer beauty. That got me in.

The middle act (which, sadly, was passed over) was a lip-sinc to The Girls of Rock and Roll from The Chipmunk Adventure. Does anyone else know the movie? I remember watching that particular scene over and over until I had the song memorized. My classmates and I put it together during our recesses.

That fond memory is why I was so excited to see this on a friend's Facebook wall:

Here's the original in case a) you have no idea what I'm talking about or b) you are familiar with the movie and are suddenly feeling wildly nostalgic.

What's Your Sign?

I usually go for something funny with the title, but this time I'm really asking the question: what's your sign? It might not be what you think. According to this article from Time.com everything has shifted. There's even a new sign (well, it's actually an old sign that has been brought back). I'll let you read the article for the why behind the change.

I don't read my horoscope daily or make my decisions based on astrological information, but I have always identified with the description of a Cancer:

Deeply intuitive and sentimental, Cancer can be one of the most challenging Zodiac signs to get to know. Emotion runs strong for this sign, and when it comes to family and home, nothing is more important. Sympathetic and empathetic, Cancerians are greatly attuned to those around them. Devotion is the keyword for this sign, making them wonderfully sensitive people to be around.

Now suddenly I'm a Gemini?

Versatility is a great keyword for this dual sign. Expressive and quick-witted, the Gemini presents two distinctive sides to his or her personality, and you can never be sure with which one you're going to come face-to-face. On one hand, the Gemini can be outgoing, flirtatious, communicative, and ready for fun, fun, fun. Yet when the other twin is present, you can find this air sign contemplative, serious, restless, and even indecisive. Both twins are able to adapt to life's circumstances well, making them wonderful people to know. Things are never boring when a Gemini is on the scene.

Sure, I'm outgoing, expressive, and quick-witted (and humble, obviously), but that's where the similarities end. No, I think that fits Bryan (who has always been a Gemini) much better than it fits me.

What do you think about this change? Do you feel that a part of your identity has shifted? Are you one of the few that didn't change at all? Is it all stuff and non-sense that doesn't matter anyway?

Thoughts?

You Only Turn Five Once

Yup, we went to Legoland for Peter's birthday. Thanks to the awesomeness of the internet, all three kids were free and one of our tickets was discounted. And my parents live about twelve minutes from the park, so we stayed at Hotel Grandparent. (Thank you grandparents.) It was swell.

We left Utah knowing that we were going to be missing a major snow storm. I thought for sure that most of our short stay in the land of perfect weather would be in the sixty degree range. I was wrong. In the middle of the day at Legoland I think it may have gotten up to the mid-fifties. Yes, much warmer than our frigid home, but a shock to our crew that brought sweatshirts and failed to pack our snow gear.

Despite the cold, we had fun.

We saw all kinds of cool stuff made out of Legos. The best were the cities like New York and Washington DC. But we were too busy oo-ing and ah-ing over them to take any pictures.

We went on some rides, but not very many. The lines were ridiculously long. Peter and Bryan went on two more than the rest of us while Cooper, Phoebe and I fought the crowd in the gift shop. If you ever go to Legoland and you have kids that are too small for some of the rides, use Parent Swap. They let you wait at the front of the line while one parent and the older child ride, then you hand the babe to your exiting spouse and enjoy the two minute ride for yourself.

Phoebe spent almost the entire day in the Baby Bjorn and was a very good sport about it. Legoland has a fabulous Mother's Room. We spent a good part of our day hanging out there, building with Duplo blocks while Phoebe ate. Also, she's very cute.

We saw some friends. Peter saw Bob.

Cooper saw a lion.

I saw Will.

The worst part of the whole day was when the little girl waiting in line in front of us ate a peanut butter sandwich and then proceeded to twirl with her peanuty fingers stretched out, touching everything she could reach. It was one of my nightmares come true. Thankfully, no Epi-Pens had to be administered.

Both boys loved it. My only concern is that now we need to do something awesome for Cooper's fifth birthday. Good thing we have two years to figure out how to match Legoland.

Brick By Brick

Peter had a very good fifth birthday a few weeks ago.

More Lego and birthday goodness coming soon...

Captain's Log, Stardate -311970.0195649416

I spent some time on Sunday night looking through old posts. I was searching for something specific (I never did find it) and opened a dozen or so old posts. You know what? I'm really thankful for this blog. There were conversations and accomplishments that I had totally forgotten. I realize that I've said it before but I want to say it again: without this blog I would have forgotten so many stories about the boys from the last two and a half years.

More than just the blog, I think I've really gained a testimony of keeping a journal. I'm sure, much like many other aspects of my testimony, it's something that will continue to grow as I follow the counsel to write in a journal.

I wonder why I've been able to write the blog on a regular basis, but I am far less successful when it comes to putting pen to paper. Is it the typing I like? The friendly hum of the computer? The cheerful glow of the screen?

Hmm... I think I need to hang out with people more and the computer less.

Baby's First Performance

I once heard Sarah Jessica Parker say in an interview that she liked to teach her young son "parlor tricks." I also enjoy teaching my children performance worthy actions. I am pleased to report that at four months old, Phoebe has learned her first trick.

Also, at the beginning of the movie Cooper says, "I am going to snuggle you Phoebe," which makes me smile.

Ya Shouldn't Wear So Much Color, Ya Harpie*

I don't wear color. I just folded all the laundry (because that's the kind of wild and crazy Friday night I like to have) and saw the shirts that I've worn this week:

• Monday - Light gray long-sleeved shirt
• Tuesday - Dark gray short sleeved-shirt with long sleeved black undershirt
• Wednesday - Black long-sleeved shirt
• Thursday - Light gray long-sleeved shirt (yes, again, but I had washed it since wearing it on Monday)
• Friday - White long-sleeved shirt

All of those were with blue jeans and white socks.

My Grandma Bonnie occasionally gives me a hard time because of the lack of color in wardrobe. She loves color and her clothes reflect that. I love color too, but no one would know it from the way I dress. I used to wear a lot of blue and red and even some green. I have no idea why I'm suddenly dressing like a rainy day.

I have a challenge for myself: wear color. I'm not sure how to accomplish this since my current wardrobe appears to lean heavily toward the sartorial equivalent of a funeral dirge. Any suggestions?

*This was an inside joke among my roommates and I one year. I'm pretty sure it was from an episode of Whose Line Is It Anyway. It should be said in a New England accent, how you might imagine a disapproving Amish grandpa would say it. In case you were wondering...

For Jordan

My dad always has a book on him. When I was younger it was usually a sci-fi paperback stuck in his back pocket. In fact, according to legend, the day I was born he pulled out whatever science fiction book he was reading at the time and read to me. In recent years he's used a Sony Reader.

My dad and mom both have instilled a love of reading in almost all of their children. (One of my brothers doesn't enjoy reading as much as the rest of us do, but his wife is an avid reader, so she's making up the difference.)

I love all kinds of literature, although I did grow up reading quite a bit of science fiction (from my dad) and fantasy (from my mom). I think out of all of us, my brother Jordan is the biggest fan of science fiction. That's why when I saw this posted on a friend's wall on Facebook, I immediately thought of Jordan.

What do you think Jordan?

The Women

My family ended up staying at our house for ten days over the Christmas break. On the day they left it occurred to me to pull out my camera. My sister-in-law and my niece were here for the holiday, but not at my house at the time, so this is an incomplete picture. However, this photo shows four generations sitting together, which I think is pretty darn cool.

People say that Paige and I look alike. We do, it's true, but not enough for people to confuse which one they're talking to. Which happens. A lot. And how cute is Phoebe in this picture?

Here's another one of Phoebe, you know, for her fans.

Sleeping Beauty

On Sunday Phoebe and I spent some time in the mother's room at church. One topic of conversation that came up was sleep. How long did Phoebe sleep at night? The other moms gasped in envy when I said that on a good night she would sleep for a seven hour chunk before waking up to eat, but most nights it was at least five hours. Apparently a lot of the babies in the room at the time have only been giving their moms three hour blocks of sleep.

Phoebe must have been taking notes.

On Sunday night she woke far more than usual. The longest block of sleep? That's right, three hours. I was tired on Monday, but ok.

Last night the most consecutive sleep she got was two and a half hours and it was during the early part of the night before I had gone to sleep. She woke up so much in fact that I didn't get to sleep until 4:30 this morning. I finally stumbled into our room, somewhat weepy, and handed her to Bryan. He had her in her bed and asleep within minutes.

He has skills.

Today is Bryan's last day off of work from the Christmas vacation. I told him that I was so thankful he was home, because I didn't know how I was going to get through today otherwise. When Phoebe went down for a nap, so did I.

It's 2:52 in the afternoon and I just got dressed for the day.

Dear Phoebe,

You are a very sweet girl and I love snuggling with you but if I don't get more sleep tonight, I might be a wee bit cranky tomorrow.

Love,

Your Mildly Coherent Mommy

The New Year's Game

I've had a handful of possible New Year's resolutions bouncing around my brain for the past few days. I haven't landed firmly on any one thing yet. I like to have a plan about how I'm going to accomplish my goals. So far, the plans have been slow in forming.

That said, here are a few of the things that I'm going to focus on in the coming year:

• Improving my scripture reading, both the quality and the length of time spent
• Adopting a more active lifestyle, for myself and my family
• Reading books more and the internet less
• Attending the Temple at least once a month
• Smiling at my children more than I scowl at them

There are a few more, but I think I'll stop the list for now. I have a tentative plan for the first, but I'm working on methods of implementation for the rest. Oh there is one more that I'm going to carry on from the last two years. In spite of the fact that many of my posts as of late have been cop-out posts, I am going to continue posting every weekday. I know that if I hadn't committed myself to doing this, many stories about the boys and important insights I've had would have been lost in the cobweb strewn recesses of my exhaustion-addled mind.

2011, prepare to be as well documented as 2010 and 2009 were.