Gobble, Gobble

We had a lovely day of feasting and giving thanks yesterday. Due to planning, preparation, staying on schedule, and sacrificing sleep (along with a late night trip to Wal-Mart by Bryan to replace a broken can opener), all of the food was ready and warm slightly earlier than we had planned.

In fact, Thanksgiving morning was fairly low-key. I got up and baked an apple crisp (which we ate for breakfast), started the rolls, and pulled the turkey out of the fridge. We watched a parade. I put the turkey in the cooking bag and let Bryan do the heavy lifting into the oven. I also let him take care of the other few things that were left to cook while I took a nap and a shower, both before the food was done in the mid-afternoon. It was nice to eat a delicious meal void of excessive stress.

Yes, we know this is a Christmas tablecloth, but it's the only one we have that fits the whole table. Pictured: razzleberry pie, rolls, candied yams, mashed potatoes, dressing, green beans, ambrosia salad, cranberry sauce, turkey, and sugar-free candied yams. Not pictured: carrots, pumpkin pie, and gravy.

Bryan was there too, just behind the camera instead of in front of it. We all enjoyed the food. And thanks to Bryan's diligent cleaning as we cooked, the clean-up was a snap.

Last night Peter asked if we could have Thanksgiving dinner again tonight. Soon he will know the power of the leftover.

All the Trimmings

After twelve years of marriage, today we are having our first Thanksgiving on our own. We live too far away from family to spend the holiday with them, and flying is a big no-no for me at the moment. I guess we won't be totally alone since we've been invited to have pie with some friends, but the bulk of the meal is up to us.

The last time I cooked a turkey was when Bryan and I were dating. I remember thinking it was the grossest thing ever. I think, after three children, my gross meter has been readjusted, so maybe it won't be so bad now.

We spent a chunk of yesterday cooking and preparing things to be cooked. We pretty much just have the turkey, the rolls, the sweet potatoes, and the stuffing to do today (which sounds like most of the meal when I list it out), and the sweet potatoes are already cooked and waiting to have butter and marshmallows added to them.

My favorite holiday food is homemade cranberry sauce. I did a quick search and was surprised to find that I've never put the recipe on here. It's time to remedy that.

Homemade Cranberry Sauce

• 1 cup water
• 3/4 cup honey (or 1 cup of sugar if you prefer)
• Combine water and honey in a saucepan and bring to a boil, add

• 1 pound fresh cranberries, rinsed (frozen is fine)
• 1/2 a sweet apple, chopped
• 1/2 an orange, peeled and chopped
• Let all the ingredients cook for a long time, until most of the cranberries have popped and are mushy
• Turn off fire and let cranberries cool, refrigerate before serving

This is a tart dish, so if you like your cranberries sweet, you may want to add more honey or sugar.

Happy Thanksgiving!

All You Need Is Love

Cooper came home from school yesterday and announced that he was "in love with Elianna." Elianna is a little girl in his Kindergarten class. I asked him what it meant to be in love. He said it meant they played together.

I tried to explain the difference between being in love with someone and having friends. I suggested that we save "being in love" for after his mission. He would have none of it and continued to proclaim his feelings.

I have two thoughts

• Where did he learn the phrase "in love with" in the first place?
• Does Elianna know?

Not Quite As Long Ago

I showed the kids my post from yesterday. Yes Paige, you were right, that was Peter. Cooper saw it and immediately wanted to see himself at that age. Usually when they want to see old pictures of themselves I turn to the old blog. But you see, I didn't start this blog until Cooper was a few months old, so there weren't pictures to show. I told myself that I would make newborn Cooper the subject of today's post.

And then I had a major parent fail.

I spent quite a bit of time last night (and this morning) trying to find Cooper's hospital pictures. I know we took some, but they have vanished without a trace. Cooper already suffers from some jealousy of his siblings (why do they get that and I don't? why do they have your middle names and I don't?), he doesn't need any more fuel to throw on his green-eyed fire.

I'm going to keep looking, I'm sure they're somewhere. But for now, here is one of the earliest pictures I can find of Cooper, taken the day he came home from the hospital. I think.

Long, Long Ago

Bryan and I spent some time looking through old pictures yesterday. Every time he would come across a picture of a young Peter or Cooper he would say, "He looks so little." I know Throwback Thursdays are popular, but how about a Throwback Monday? Memory Monday?

Know who this is?

Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting

Remember when the boys started doing taekwondo? Well, they had three lessons each. Bryan and I reviewed our finances and looked at how much it would cost to continue and then we looked for less expensive options.

A nearby city offers a kung fu/tai chi class for significantly less money. The class is bigger and the boys attend at the same time. Taekwondo was more about preparing for competition, this is about being active, learning about self-defense, and how to focus and follow the rules. For now, this is a better option for us.

The boys have been asking me to take pictures or a movie of their class to put on the blog. On Tuesday I finally did. Part of what they do is practice sparring. This isn't my favorite part of the class, because it feels like they're just beating up on each other. Really, the idea is to practice the forms they're learning. I think Peter and Cooper just don't have the skills yet to do it properly; at this point they mostly just run backwards from their sparring partner.

Bryan pointed out that sparring is not fighting, just like acting is not lying. He likes to explain things in my terms.

And so I present, sparring. Cooper starts near the center and is wearing blue boots and gloves. Peter keeps running in and out of the frame and is wearing red boots and gloves.

Weighing In

Each of the children has recently voiced their thoughts on my current size. What have they said, you ask?

A few nights ago I was finally sitting down from a long day of standing and chasing children when Peter called me and asked if I could come see something in another room. I told him I was sorry, but no, I really couldn't. He came in to see why. I told him that I needed to keep my feet up because they were swollen, something that has just started in the last week. He looked down at my feet and said, "No they're not." Then he paused, pondering, and added, "Except that they are kind of puffy."

On Saturday morning I was getting breakfast for the kids and was still in my pajamas. Cooper looked at me and said, "Did you know that when your tummy is really big, sometimes your pants fall down?" Yes, I knew. And don't worry, my shirt was still long enough to keep me modest. Then last night during bedtime Cooper looked at my midsection and asked, "Mommy, is your tummy just going to keep getting bigger and bigger and bigger until it's all the way across the room?"

Every night while she says her prayers, Phoebe has started including, "And please help Mommy's tummy that it will get smaller and that her legs will get bigger." Apparently she misses sitting on my lap. I wonder how she'll feel when I have a lap again, but she has to share it with a little sister...

The Dawdle

Phoebe and Cooper like to take their time. Let's be honest, Peter does too. Phoebe and Cooper are probably the biggest culprits though. I'll send them off to get shoes on or grab something before we can leave the house and I have to track them down, only to discover they haven't done whatever it is they were sent to do.

Nine times out of ten I'll find Cooper in his room with a book. I love that he loves books, but I do wish I could convince him to, say, get dressed in the morning before he plunks down with a tome. Yesterday I sent Phoebe to use the bathroom so we could pick the boys up from school and found her a few minutes later clad in a princess dress with barrettes in her hair. I wouldn't have minded so much if her daytime clothes hadn't been discarded in a pile on the floor. The rule round these parts is that you are welcome to leave the house in a costume, as long as you're wearing real clothes underneath. Phoebe just grinned when I asked her to get dressed.

We did not leave when I wanted to.

They are also slow-eater-tiny-bite-takers. I can't begrudge them this since I fall into that category as well, but I do now understand the frustration that my parents must have felt during meals with me.

I feel like most of my day is spent asking someone to hurry up. Aren't I supposed to follow their childlike example and take time to enjoy my surroundings? I think that goal and being on-time anywhere are mutually exclusive.

Jumpy

Does anyone have a good cure (or help) for restless legs? At this point that's one of the pregnancy symptoms that's causing me great discomfort. I've been keeping myself awake until I'm so tired I fall into bed asleep, because otherwise I jump all over the place. My head and most of my body are exhausted, my legs feel like they're ready to go running.

Any suggestions would be much appreciated.

This Is How I Find the Kids Most Mornings

Too Much Information

Do you ever hear something come out of your mouth and you immediately think, "Why did I just say that?"

A few nights ago I was finishing Peter's bedtime routine. He and Cooper share a room and, because they keep each other awake when we send them to bed at the same time, he has to wait for Cooper to fall asleep every night before he can climb into bed. This means that he's always the last kid awake.

On this night I had just finished singing his two songs to him. I told him that I'd have to wait a minute to get up because I was having a contraction (I've been having them for the past twenty weeks, they've just kicked up in intensity and repetition during the last few weeks) and wanted it to finish first. This is what followed.

Peter: What's a contraction?

Me: It's some of my muscles tightening a lot.

Peter: Why?

Me: That's how my body gets ready to help the baby be born.

Peter: So you had them with all of us?

Me: Yup.

Peter: Wow, so you've had four contractions.

Me: (quickly realizing that in his mind four children must equal four contractions) No, I've had way more than that.

Peter: What does it feel like?

Me: Basically like you're dying.

And that folks, was the moment. His eyes got kind of big and he paused, which is unusual for Peter. I tried to fix it, but I'm not sure I succeeded. I told him that it wasn't actually dying, just really painful. Then I stopped explaining and changed the subject.

Either I've curtailed his questions about this topic, or he's just ruminating on what I've said and formulating a whole new set of questions. It's probably the latter.

Cops and Robbers

I came to a realization this week about my boys. In the old-school game of Cops and Robbers, Peter would be the cop, Cooper would be the robber.

Peter has an intense sense of justice. He is outraged when he sees someone breaking a rule or doing something that he deems inappropriate. Sadly, this does not extend to himself. So I suppose that would make him a cop that thinks they're above the law. 

Also, he's a bit of a vigilante. He thinks that he should dole out consequences. It doesn't seem to matter how many times we tell him this is not his responsibility, he still does it. In fact, he and I each got to chat with a vice principal at his school this week because of this feeling that he should police his classmates. The issue has been resolved, but it wasn't awesome.

Cooper, on the other hand, doesn't have the same sense of right and wrong. He simply wants what he wants, all the time. Often that means we have a screaming, hitting, naughty-word-hurling Cooper, using all the wrong means to get his way. Yesterday morning that resulted in him going to school sans coat. He chose to throw a major tantrum/screaming fit and not put on his jacket, so when it came time to go to school, he was left without one. I even gave him a chance to redeem himself, but he didn't take it. That meant that when we got to school he was hysterical at the prospect of being cold. It was chilly, but much warmer than it has been recently, so I didn't feel like he was in danger. I had to drop Peter off and park to pull Cooper out of the car. For the record, I stayed calm, frustrated, but calm.

The principal, who was welcoming kids to school as they got off the bus, came over to see if she could lend a hand. When Cooper realized someone else was present he calmed down. I walked him to the door and the vice principal (the same one who called about Peter) walked Cooper to his classroom. Both women were very sweet, but it is not an experience I'd like to repeat.

So while Cooper isn't really a robber (though he is my child that has pocketed toys from friends' houses only to sneakily show me his bounty later), he does have a backwards way of looking at what he should and should not be doing.

I hope that Cooper will outgrow this. Frankly, I hope Peter does too. I want him to maintain his strong moral compass, but I want him to start applying it to himself, and to stop enforcing the rules on everyone else.

Triumph

Good news! After dismantling a handful of parts on my sewing machine, I've fixed it. I suspect the problem may have been that I put the needle in backwards. That would cause issues, don't you think? The boys came into my room today and saw the machine in pieces and were highly impressed. I had to usher them out quickly so they wouldn't investigate further.

And even better news, I'm done with my sewing project! That means that Christmas is basically done. I have to wrap presents, but otherwise I'm set. No, I've never been prepared this far out, but knowing that I'll be wildly sleep deprived in those few weeks leading up to Christmas has been great motivation.

Rise of the Machines

I've taken on a sewing project for Christmas because, hey, with only five weeks until this little girl is due and a myriad of other things I'm responsible for, why not? I won't tell you what the project is until after I've gifted it, but it's important to know that I'm making one for each child.

I've finished two; I was working on three and four last night. So far I've broken not one, but two sewing machine needles. I've replaced it each time. At one point my bobbin freaked out and kept getting tangled, but I've fixed that. Then last night, my machine decided it didn't want to remain threaded. I could sew for about half an inch before it would come undone. This happened repeatedly. I took the end off the machine to see if I could figure out what was going on.

I couldn't.

Does anyone know what might be causing this?

I'm at a loss, and I'd really like to avoid taking my sewing machine into a repair shop if this is something that I can fix myself. And I'm so close to being done with this project!

To Protect Our Liberty

It turns out we moved to a very patriotic part of Washington. The boys have come home every day this week talking about the different branches of the armed forces that they've learned about in school. They don't have school today, which is the first time we've had Veterans Day off. Cooper brought home two blue stars to write down the names of the people he knows that are serving in the military or have served in the past. Two was not enough but we squeezed them all on and they are now hanging on a bulletin board of honor in the hallway of his school.

Peter was very proud of a picture that he colored and a song he learned about the military. I asked him if he wanted me to film it and put it on the blog for our Veterans Day post, and he said yes. So now I present, Peter's musical tribute to those serving our country!

Rosie the Riveter

Last night I put together three pieces of furniture from IKEA. We now have a place to store the baby's clothes and a place to sit upstairs and hold the baby (other than a bed or a folding chair). I feel quite accomplished.

Also, I don't think I've used my upper arm muscles in a really long time. I say this because now I am sore. So sore. So sore that lifting my laptop is a bit of a trick.

But hey, at least now we're one step closer to being ready for baby sister's arrival.

Preview

It occurred to me that some of my readers (primarily of the grandparent variety) might like a sneak peek at our new girl. This is one of the 3D images we were given at the ultrasound. It's not perfect (I'm sure her skin in not actually textured that way), but it's still pretty cool. I think she bears a striking resemblance to her siblings, no? We'll see if that holds true in six (or seven or eight) weeks.

From Sea to Shining Sea

When we made sugar cookies last week I gave the kids the chance to wield the cookie cutters themselves. Cooper and Phoebe tried it out for a bit, then moved on to other activities. Peter loved using the cookie cutters. At one point in the process he decided to freestyle and started cutting out his own shapes using a table knife.

That's when he made his great discovery. Like Michelangelo seeing the sculpture within the unchiseled stone, Peter saw the shape within the dough. Behold, his great creation:

Can you tell he has a penchant for geography?

Buzzing

I think we need a serious Halloween detox over here.

The kids have been flying (I've expected to see Peter actually start to levitate) since Thursday night. Getting the kids to school on Friday morning was crazy, and not a fun zany crazy either. Sacrament Meeting on Sunday was spent keeping kids from sliding off chairs, among various other activities.

Even Phoebe has had a hard time. Yesterday during her dance class she was more engaged in flipping her hair all over the place than in dancing. That is highly unusual.

There have been a few points of light in the haze of sugar: Peter cleaned the kids' (meaning the gross one) bathroom on Saturday and Cooper had a good day at school yesterday. I'm holding to those two things, because the rest of the time has been rough.

How long until Halloween wears off?

Generations

Last night I sat down at my computer to write some long overdue emails. Before I started I thought, "Maybe I'll take a few minutes looking for a name for the baby." Peter had been urging (pestering is a more appropriate word, but rather negative) me to look up Family Search and, since family names are so important to Bryan, I figured that was a good place to start.

I had never been on Family Search before. Should I admit that? I was able to sign in with the same information that I use for lds.org. I had no idea all the information that was on there. Also, I had no idea how far back some of those lines go. I didn't really find any names that sang to me, but I did learn some interesting facts. For instance:

• Danish names are tricky to pronounce
• I have lots and lots of ancestors from England
• But if you go back far enough I have some from France
• And some from Spain
• And some from Rome
• I'm a descendant of a few famous people like
• William the Conqueror
• The King of the Visigoths
• Ferdinand the Great, King of Spain
• Henry, King of Germany
• Constantine, Emperor of Rome

That last one floored me. Granted, I'm sure he has lots of descendants by now, but even if I'm one of many, it's still kind of awesome.

That few minutes turned into an hour and a half. I can count this as family history, right?

Guess I'll need to write those emails another night...

Sugar Rush

We started our Halloween celebrations last Friday at Bryan's work party. Apparently it's the biggest party they have all year, which makes sense given who he works for. 

I'm including two pictures because I couldn't get one of both Peter and Phoebe smiling. I have no idea if Cooper was smiling due to the mask, but he was posing, so that's something. Yes, we bought all the costumes this year. A small part of me missed the wow factor of the homemade costumes, but a much bigger part was glad I didn't have to worry about them. And laziness wins out again.

The kids got SO MUCH CANDY from his work. I don't normally write about who he works for, but posting the following picture will give you a good hint. Notice how they're full sized packages? I'll also say we were very brand loyal this year in the candy we gave out.

Speaking of which, here's our bowl of candy ready for trick-or-treaters on Halloween. See what I mean about being brand loyal? The smaller candy offerings in the middle were the peanut-containing candy that Peter got; we handed it right back out, which was rather clever I think.

We also made Halloween cookies.

And ate Halloween jigglers.

And went trick or treating.

See Phoebe's choker? It didn't come with her costume. The day of Bryan's work party I pulled out some black ribbon and dug up some velcro (they were picture hangers, but velcro nonetheless) and the glue gun. That's right, I own a glue gun. I think the homemade necklace made the costume.

Because the kids had already pulled in quite the haul, we only went to the eight houses close to our house. The kids got just the right amount of candy. They enjoyed eating what they could while we watched a few Halloween cartoons on Netflix.

We'll decorate those Halloween cookies today after school. I meant for us to do it last night, but there were only so many hours in the day. And only so much sugar three children should consume in an evening.