Ordering In

A little boy from Peter's class knocked on our door a few days ago to see if Peter could come out and play in the snow with him. While Peter scurried to get bundled up, I stood in our entryway and chatted with his friend. This exchange happened at the beginning of our conversation.

Neighbor Boy: Wow! What did you order for dinner?

Me: (totally confused by his question) Umm...

Neighbor Boy: It smells really good!

Me: (finally understanding) Oh. I'm making dinner. I've got bread in the oven and Brazilian beans on the stove.

And that's how the neighbor boy totally made my day.

Vitamin D

We had our first big snow over the weekend. When the kids woke up on Saturday I said that I'd play in the snow with them once all the chores were done and the house was ready for Sunday. I gave them a hard deadline of 4pm. They finished with ten minutes to spare.

The big kids and I bundled up and tromped through the snow for about forty-five minutes.

We attempted a snowman, but the snow was too dry and the kids didn't really care that much. We made a mini-snowman instead.

Bryan and Sophie joined us for the last few minutes, just in time for a father/son snowball fight. Here's Bryan, winding up for the pitch. Peter thought it was great fun.

We finished the day with warm showers, soft pajamas, and homemade hot cocoa. And my house was clean when I went to bed, which was a lovely bonus.

Games Sophie Plays

We're feeling much better, well enough that we all went to church yesterday. In fact, Sophie was already cheerful again by Saturday evening. Want proof? Bryan made this movie after her bath that night.

When you watch this (which I'm sure you will) you're going to want to have your sound turned up.

On Call Nurse

My last preschool obligation, a hibernation party, was scheduled for today. I had been planning it for about a week, but when the kids went to sleep last night I realized the plan was ready but the supplies were not. And so I went to work.

I spent a few hours tracing paper bears so the kids could have their own Build-a-Bear experience during the party. While I was working, Sophie woke up. My sweet girl who used to sleep through the night now wakes up two or three times. Last night she woke up much earlier than usual. Bryan went upstairs to hold her so I could keep working.

I printed and cut and gathered. Finally, I was almost ready; all I had left to do was cutout the bears and staple them together, leaving the top open so the kids could stuff them with cotton balls. I paused my progress to check on Bryan and Sophie. Both were asleep, though Sophie was fitful. As soon as I picked her up to put her in her bed (Bryan had been holding her), she woke up crying. I nursed her and finally she went back to sleep.

At this point it was just after midnight. With Bryan's help we cutout thirty paper teddy bears. I sent him off to sleep while I stapled them together. I fell into bed at 2:13. I figured I could get five hours of sleep, which would be enough to get me through the party and home for a nap before the boys arrived home from school.

At 3:00 Sophie woke up to eat, about an hour and a half earlier than usual. I fed her and put her back in her bed.

At 4:30 she woke up again, crying this time. Exhausted, I wearily slid myself out of bed to see what she needed. That's when I found why she had been fitful, why she had woken so much to eat, why she was crying. Our poor baby was covered in vomit.

I was suddenly awake, and, after I cried out in surprise at my discovery, so was Bryan. He and I worked quickly to clean her up and change her bedding. I held her for the next hour and finally had to put her back in her bed because I had no more strength and was desperate for rest.

At this point I had had two hours of sleep and was looking at the possibility of maybe another hour and a half. That simply wasn't enough to do anything, let alone drive to the party and muster the energy needed to lead twelve small children in lively activities for two hours. And I was concerned that Sophie might be contagious. I debated canceling, or at least rescheduling, the party. I decided to sleep a little more and see if that helped.

That's about the time that Phoebe came in saying she was thirsty and wanted to snuggle. She got her water and used the bathroom (the prerequisite to sleeping in mom and dad's bed) and climbed in next to me. Then she wiggled. And she adjusted. And she asked for more of the pillow. And more blanket. Bryan told her if she moved or talked again she would have to sleep in her own bed. She quieted down, but I woke a few more times before Bryan's alarm sounded at 6:30, alerting us to the start of the day.

It's hard to begin one day when you never really got to conclude the one that came before it.

I was still on the fence about the party. Then Phoebe started talking about how much her tummy hurt. That did it. I sent emails and texts and made phone calls to let the other parents know that we were changing the date. They were all sweet and thanked us for not sharing our germs. 

I was going to wear my pajamas to the hibernation party. I ended up staying in my pajamas all day anyway, wishing I could hibernate rather than teach about it. Bryan worked from home, in part to help and in part because he was running on a sleep deficit as well. My decision to postpone the party proved to be a good one and we all had a low-key, mild-foods kind of day. I napped whenever Sophie did. Phoebe got to binge-watch Strawberry Shortcake and Care Bears during the morning nap and emptied the contents of her drawers onto her floor to make a pile/nest for her quiet time activity during the afternoon nap. We continued to take care of sick tummies throughout the day, but by dinner most of the rumbling had calmed.

And now, all I want to do is read and slumber.

Goodnight. Here's hoping that everybody sleeps. And that no one throws up.

Prepared for the Future

As we were driving somewhere on Tuesday I overheard the following.

Cooper: Phoebe, are you scared to get married?

Phoebe: (scoffs as if the question is ridiculous) No.

Gee, that answer scares me a little...

The Same Cloth

You can't tell from this picture. But these two look a lot alike. They have the same nose and the same chin and when Cooper was littler he had those same chubby cheeks. And they love playing together, which makes me happy.

Old and Wise

A few days ago I overheard Peter say to Phoebe, "Now that I'm older, I'm starting to understand everything."

Yes, hubris is alive and well at our house.

Called to Serve

When we were in Washington, Bryan and I both served in the Primary. At first we team taught the oldest group of kids, the ones that were transitioning to Young Men and Young Women. We loved it. We had a wonderful time teaching together. We should be used to that, but most of our team teaching at home is really team wrangling, so it was fun to be with kids who listened most of the time.

Then our assignments changed. I taught the class of kids getting baptized. Bryan, along with two other men, taught the Sunbeams, the youngest class in Primary. Phoebe was in his class. Most Sundays they had ten three and four year-olds. Even with three teachers, it was exhausting. 

A few months after moving here we were both asked to be in Primary again. This time Bryan taught the oldest group of boys and I was the Sunbeam teacher. And I was Phoebe's teacher. I would hold Sophie during the second hour of church while Bryan was teaching, then I would pass her to him during the third hour so I could teach my active class.

At the end of the year our assignments changed again. Bryan now has girls and boys in his class, but they're still older kids. I'm now in charge of the music for Primary! This calling is one that I've always wanted. It's my dream calling. When the member of the Bishopric asked me if I would serve in this capacity I actually said, "Oh yay!"

I took over the first week of the new year. It's gone well so far. I've spent hours pouring over lds.org and Pinterest and Sugardoodle looking at what I need to do and what others have done. I have two file boxes of supplies from the last ten years of Primary music in this ward. And since I've always wanted this calling I've been storing away ideas in case I ever got to serve in this capacity.

Given all of that preparation, it was surprising when I had a total brain block this past week. Each time I tried to plan the music for Sunday I couldn't think of anything to do. A good idea would enter my mind and then quickly exit. I finally settled for a fine, but rather mundane activity. And while I know mundane is occasionally acceptable, it is never my goal. I continued to brainstorm when a quiet reassurance came into my mind. "Don't worry about it, You will be fine." I packed my bag on Saturday night to ensure I didn't forget anything the next morning.

Sunday, as I was reminding the kids that they needed to finish eating breakfast so they could get their church clothes on, I noticed my phone was blinking. I picked it up to see if it was anything important. I had two emails, with three more to follow in quick succession, all notifying me that due to the frozen rain that was falling and the ice-skating-rink-like condition of the roads, church was canceled for the day.

I was indeed fine. And now I have another week to plan something slightly more creative.

Mi Familia

We loved having my mom and dad and Grandma Bonnie come visit us. As I was looking through the pictures of Peter's birthday, I realized I had forgotten to post two of my favorite shots from their visit.

These two spent a lot of time snuggling together in the rocking chair during the visit.

Grandpa Marc, Nana Cris, and four of their six grandkids. Sophie was not happy about being in this picture. She was tired and wanted to nurse and go to sleep, but that just wasn't happening. Moments before she had been crying big, sad tears. We all sang Happy Birthday to her long enough to get the pictures, then I swooped her away to take care of her.

Thank you for coming all the way across the country to see us. You're welcome anytime!

Question Two

Lucky you, mine is the one birthday I name on the blog, which means I can answer the second personal history question. I know, you're all relieved.

When and where were you born?  Describe your home, your neighborhood, and the town you grew up in.

I was born at 4:44 in the morning of Friday June 27, 1980 in the bedroom of my parents tiny apartment in Perry, Utah. There were cherry trees behind the building. The apartment was attached to the back of a diner that was famous for their delicious pies. That apartment is now a dining room. I went back to the diner as an adult and thought about walking into the dining room, standing amongst the people while they ate, and announcing, “I was born right here!” But I didn’t. We moved to California when I was six months old.

When I was five and a half years old my family moved from our apartment in Garden Grove, California to a modest home in north San Diego county. My parents still live in that house. It has a huge backyard and when I was a kid we had a swing set and a tether ball, then later a trampoline. The house itself wasn’t large, but we all fit. When we first moved in, I got the room that had two pink walls and two walls covered in Strawberry Shortcake paper. I guess that combination automatically made it the girl room. The carpet was shaggy and golden. When I was twelve I got tired of that carpet so one day I moved all my furniture out of my room and then ripped up the carpet. The problem was, I hadn’t asked my mom before I did it. She found out about my project when I was done. I was afraid she would be mad, but instead she asked me to pull the carpet out of her room too.

Our neighborhood was full of houses that looked very much like ours. There were a few kids to play with, but not many, and none that were my age. We lived on a cul-de-sac and, when I finally figured out how to ride my bike at the old age of ten (yes, really) I liked to ride my bike in front of my house.

I always thought it was funny that I grew up in a town where people vacationed. The sight of palm trees and eucalyptus trees makes me nostalgic for home. Even though we lived a few miles from the Pacific Ocean, we rarely went to the beach when I was little. When I was a teenager we would go and walk on the beach as a family in the evenings, but I assume that it was easier to take older kids to the beach than small kids. There is a heavy military presence in our town, lots of my classmates and friends had at least one parent serving in the military. In my hometown flip flops and shorts are the norm, most people surf or boogie-board, and everyone knows where to find the best Mexican food. The weather there is so sunny and temperate and beautiful that I've been ruined for weather anywhere else.