Here Comes Halloween

Last year's Halloween costumes were elaborate and time-consuming. And completely awesome. While I was tempted to make something equally fabulous this year, I simply did not have the time. So we did the next best thing: we borrowed them. Well, I bought Peter's but I borrowed Cooper and Phoebe's.

Peter had been asking to go traditional for costumes this year. When I saw a $6 skeleton costume in his size at Wal-Mart, I took it as a sign. A friend lent us a witch costume and another friend let us borrow a vampire costume.

The MBASA Halloween party was last night. The kids were excited to don their spooky duds. About three hours before the party was supposed to start, I figured out my costume. I told Phoebe that since she was a witch, I would be her black cat. Bryan, who basically had to go from class to the party, dressed up as the family photographer.

Bryan did Peter's make-up and sprayed Cooper's hair black. We kept losing him at the party because we were looking for blonde hair instead of black. Phoebe is wearing a grown-up sized hat because that was what fit. I watched a handful of YouTube videos so I could figure out the cat eye make-up. I'm quite pleased with how it turned out. And I pulled out the hot-glue gun to make my ears, so I guess I was a little crafty this year.

Bonus Phoebe picture!

Home Is Where You Hang Your Hat

When we returned from Wisconsin, we didn't go back to the condo we'd been living in since before Phoebe was born. It was twenty minutes from Bryan's school, and that was without any traffic. Our involvement level in MBASA and other MBA activities made that uncomfortably far. We made the choice to live close to school.

However, it's not so easy to find a place to live from fifteen hundred miles away. I looked at online classifieds and housing lists for students and talked to people about openings, but nothing felt right. The summer was stressful enough and I didn't want to spend any more brain power wondering where we were going to live.

So we made a decision. We would move back to a place we had lived before. Now, since I'm very careful to not name our specific location, I won't tell you where we live. But I will tell you we lived here before we had kids. We've upgraded from a two-bedroom to a three-bedroom, but otherwise the layout is very similar.

And that's a little bit bizarre.

Why, you ask? Because I now have two pictures of this living room in my head, the past room and the present room. Even the smell of the carpet is the same. It almost feels like we've stepped into the past. Except that now there are five of us instead of just two. We fit fine then; it's a little bit cramped now. Not living-in-a-hotel cramped, but tight nonetheless. And about one third of our stuff is still in our storage unit.

The downside (other than the odd feeling of deja vu) is that we do not have a dishwasher or a washer and dryer. I now have to schedule trips to the laundromat and budget time to do dishes. And perhaps to some that's not a big deal, but I'm one of those that sits with my laundry, so that takes up quite a chunk of time. I did try paying Peter to do the dishes (one penny per item), but our boy has such an active imagination that he took an hour and a half to wash fifteen dishes, and that was not worth the money.

My point is not to complain, but rather to say that living here requires a lot more work from me. I thought I was stretched thin before, now free time is spent sleeping, or maybe (if I'm lucky) grabbing a quick shower. Hence the infrequent blog posts.

The benefits of living here? There is a lovely sense of community. We're not the only family with kids living in our cul-d-sac. Including Peter, there are five kids from his first grade class within a two-minute walk. He's never been able to run over to a friend's house (with mom trailing behind of course) to see if they can play. I also enjoy being able sit at the park and chat with the moms while the kids play. And a number of our neighbors are in Bryan's program, so it was like we had built-in friends. It's also beautiful here. The lawns are well maintained and there are so many trees.

We can live anywhere for a year, right?

Another Birthday

From the better-late-than-never file comes this movie taken a few days after Phoebe's birthday. Bryan's parents got Phoebe a darling toy kitchen, but because of a delay on our end, it didn't get here until after her birthday. We opened and put it together one night after she went to sleep. Then we hid it in our room and waited a whole day for Bryan to come home from classes before we gave it to her.

The morning before she got the kitchen she started telling me she wanted another birthday. Keep that in mind as you watch.

This movie, which we've had a ridiculous time getting to load, shows the big reveal and Phoebe's reaction.



Thank you Nana Shari and Papa Ron and Uncle Ben! She loves the kitchen. And so do her brothers for that  matter.

Color Blind

We picked up a cookie and cupcake decorating book from the library last week. It had bright, colorful pictures and caught Peter's eye, so into the bag it went. A few days later Phoebe and I were perusing the intricate designs when we stopped on a page of cookies decorated to look like children and the following conversation took place.

Phoebe: (pointing at a chocolate cookie) That's me.

Me: Is it because she's wearing pink?

Phoebe: No, I'm brown.

A Word of Warning

Just in case you ever want to make a batch of homemade bread but the only yeast you have is a three-year-old packet in the back of the cupboard (because it got stuck in with your spices) and you haven't fully restocked your kitchen since moving so you don't have any good yeast, remember these words:

Don't make the bread.

It won't be good.

That is all.

Ready to Run

About three weeks ago Peter handed me a small slip of paper he'd gotten from school. It was a notice for a race that the BYU track team was hosting for elementary school aged kids in the area. He told me he wanted to do the race and asked if I would please sign him up.

Peter's running has been well documented on this blog, but he'd never run in a race before. His running was always more of the escape variety. I took the paper and said I would look into it.

Then I lost the paper.

The night before the race I remembered that I said I would check it out. And within a minute of looking I found the paper. Now, I'm kind of flaky, so the fact that I remembered AND found the paper was quite remarkable. I took it as a sign and added his name to the nearly sixty first grade boys that were already signed up.

The next day after Cooper finished soccer (we're sounding downright sporty) we drove to BYU. Peter started saying he didn't want to run, but his stage-fright likes to pop up sometimes, so I reassured him that it would be fun and we continued heading to the field.

This was my first race too, so I wasn't sure where to go or what to do. Thankfully we ran into a friend who had grown-up running track and she guided us. Peter got to wear an official race number on his shirt, which added to both the awesomeness and the scariness of the event for him.

The course was a mile long, cross country style. The starting line was way over on one side of the field and the finishing line was on the track. Peter warmed-up with my friend's son and was given a few words of coaching in the process. Here he is, lined up with his peers, ready to run.

As soon as the race started Cooper and Phoebe (both strapped into the double stroller) and I ran our own little race over to the finish line. We paused partway to film Peter as the course came near the spectators, but for some reason I'm having trouble loading that. So you'll just have to trust that he ran and we watched. Also, a bee tried to sting me during one movie, so maybe it's better that I can't put that on the blog since I'm sure my camera-flailing would make some people motion sick.

Bryan and I were both a touch afraid that Peter would run out of steam and not finish the race. So as we were heading over before the race began, I told Peter that the important part wasn't winning, it was finishing. And he did. We cheered as he crossed the finish line.

Here are his results. I've removed our last name (since I don't do last names on the blog) and the name of his school (cause that's a little too much personal information for the internet). Like I said, there were at least sixty boys in his race, and probably more since the registration was open for several more hours after I signed Peter up.

Considering the only training he'd done was running away from me, I think he did a great job on his first race. He was so proud of himself when he finished. I foresee more track time in our future.

Dance Dance Revolution

Cooper and Phoebe are taking a dance class. It's free through MBASA and will last for five weeks. Their first session was last Saturday. And you can guess from yesterday's post that Phoebe probably considers this part of her princess training. 

The day before the class started Phoebe, Cooper, and I watched YouTube clips of several forms of dance. Warning: if you're planning on watching YouTube movies of dance with your children, you might want to stick with BYU dance companies. We didn't see anything inappropriate  mostly because I saw the thumbnails and read descriptions enough to avoid the unsavory.

As we drove to the class on Saturday morning Cooper announced, "Mom, I've decided I'm going to do Jazz." Good choice. Unfortunately, this week they focused on tumbling and ballet. Maybe next week, Cooper.

The class is split into a younger group and an older group. Phoebe is the youngest person in the whole class. I actually had to get special permission to bring her. Here she is getting ready to learn how to do a summersault,. And playing with her name tag.

This is the older group doing a ballet warm-up. Cooper is in the darker blue shirt on the far left.

Phoebe loved the tumbling, but kind of lost interest by the time the class switched and she had to do ballet. As long as she was focused she did a pretty good job of following directions. And she nailed the required "Ta-Da!" that followed every summersault. Here's a movie of her trying to do a bridge.

As soon as we got in the car after class Phoebe informed me that she wanted to "do another dance class." And Cooper has been practicing the mini-routine they learned. I think that's a stamp of approval from both.

Pretty Pretty Princess

During the unpacking (how is it possible I'm not done yet?!) Phoebe found a towel wrap a friend of mine made for her. It was a gift at Phoebe's baby shower and was much too big at the time we received it. But now? It fits just like it was meant to. She added it to her stash of dress-up clothes.

One day I walked into the front room and discovered that Phoebe was wearing her towel over her clothes. She grinned up at me and announced, "Mommy, I'm a princess!"

I adore having a girl. She is a lovely gift after two bounce-off-the-wall-boys. But I have never called her a princess. Beautiful girl? Yes. Sweet girl? Daily. Good girl? Yup. Princess? I can't. It smacks of entitlement. Yes, I recognize my issues. Sometimes I bend a bit too much toward my feminist (stay-at-home-mom feminist, but that's a topic for another post) leanings. And I've wondered if I'm depriving her of something that other little girls get.

So I have not taught her about princesses. She has seen Disney movies though. And honestly, that was the only kind of princess I ever wanted to be. I was nine when The Little Mermaid came out and I decided then that I wanted to be the voice of a Disney princess. I've made other choices (to not pursue acting professionally, to be a mom), but there is a little part of me that still dreams of voicing whatever princess Disney hasn't already brought to life. I know I'm a touch too old, but maybe they're working on a thirty-something princess story and just haven't found the right voice yet. Everyone needs a daydream, eh?

Back to Miss Phoebe. Without being taught directly about princesses, she knew. And when she claimed her title I was curious. What did that mean to her? So I asked. "Phoebe, what does a princess do?"

I watched her ruminate. She looked at her towel-dress, then she grabbed the hem and swished it a bit. The light of a two-year-old's epiphany spread across her face and she said enthusiastically, "Dance!"

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

The night before her birthday I asked Phoebe a few questions. She answered some of them, and then got sidetracked talking about riding a donkey. Oh, there's a part when I can't understand what her favorite food is. I realized later that it's candy. Apparently candy and donkey sound similar in Phoebe speak.

Tickled Pink

Miss Phoebe (as we often call her) hit a big milestone recently. She turned the big 0-2. And while I remember the boys opening gifts and being willing to eat cake when they turned two, I don't think they really had a grasp of what the day was. Phoebe, on the other hand, knew.

Her birthday was all about her.

And it was all pink.

Yes, Phoebe loves anything and everything pink. And she wanted a pink birthday. Given my tenuous relationship with the color pink, this was not easy. But I did it. And I think that shows that at least I'm trying to be a good mom.

She started the day by eating pink cereal.

She does have a spoon, she's just not using it. And that's surprising because she's usually my neatest eater.

She wore pink.

Those two-year-olds are hard to pin down for a picture.

She used pink dishes at lunch.

Notice the decorative ribbon? Yeah, I got crazy.

Her presents were wrapped in all the pink bags we had in our stash.

Why yes, we are still moving in, why do you ask?

Her gifts were pink.

These were free to us. I got them in April and tucked them away for her birthday.

Cooper picked the color book and the Minnie Mouse book from the cheap bins at Target. The Pride and Prejudice book was my Amazon splurge. It's delightful.

I had to go to a handful of stores to find this. Apparently there's been a run on baby doll strollers in the last month. Who knew?

And so was her cake.

She requested a pink princess cake. This is how I obliged. No, cake decorating is not one of my talents.

She loved her birthday. Let me more accurately represent that. She LOVED her birthday!