The Slippery Slope

Today is Sunday. Ah, the Sabbath. You know it's been a good church day when you leave the building both looking and smelling as if you've just walked across the Sahara. Somehow today during our sacrament meeting I was a total kid magnet. I felt like I was feeding pigeons at the park, except that these pigeons weighed around the 40 pound mark, and they weren't afraid to get on you. It wasn't such a bad day, you know, just a little on the strenuous side. Between the meeting itself and the weekly round-up of my post-church totally hyper children, let's just say that I was looking a little mussed, (aka bedraggled). My fabulous hair and makeup (that's a joke by the way) didn't quite make it back to the parking lot.

It doesn't help that I have officially entered the "waddle" stage of pregnancy. Pregnancy, as you know, is divided into three terms. Most people refer to these as the first, second and third trimesters. I prefer to call them what they truly are. The puke phase, the heartburn phase and the waddle phase. I have to tell you that I think that I have a more alarming waddle phase than most people I know. I can tell because of the looks of shock that appear on peoples' faces as I approach. The reason is because I have no waist. There is no where to go for this baby to go but out. Since I'm still at the beginning of the waddle phase it isn't too bad yet, but trust me, it gets worse. I have already been asked whether I have two or three weeks left, despite the fact that I have close to three months left. I can also tell that this phase has started because I have seen some photos of myself and am wondering who inflated my entire face and neck so bulbously. This is why I have not changed my facebook profile picture for over a year. I'd rather just look at that nice little face I used to have, not so long ago, and hold it as a beacon of future thinness to be. I hope.

Now, shut up, everyone. I know what you're going to say. No, no! You look great! Pregnant women are beautiful! I was going to blog about this fun spontaneous tea party that Bitty and I threw for each other, and I'll get to that, but when I saw the picture that Troy took of our party all I could think to myself was, "Oh dear. The downward slope has begun. I am officially getting large."


Okay, enough about me. I am not complaining, by the way. I'm happily donating any and all body parts/functions/appearances to this little fetus. I'm just saying that the donation has happened. "This Little Fetus" is kicking a lot, by the way. Bitty would like to name her Annie. Stomper would like to name her Tara. I would like to keep thinking about it.

So. The tea party. Bitty and Stomper and I actually hold regular tea parties. We have two tea sets. One is large, colorful and plastic. The other is dainty, painted with little apples, and is quite a bit more breakable. It can't be actual china or glass, but whatever it is, it breaks. This I know, as it has been greatly diminished lately. As I was sharing these details with my friend Emily we looked at each other and said, in unison, "Frances!" I don't know how many of you have read the Frances books, but if you haven't, you've got to track them down. Written by Russell Hoban, illustrated by Lilian Hoban, they are treasures. My favorite might be Bread and Jam for Frances, but I also really love A Birthday for Frances, Best Friends for Frances, and of course the tea set one, A Bargain for Frances. You can also find Bedtime for Frances and A Sister for Frances, which are fun as well. My mom found a lot of these on tape for us from the library when we were kids and we listened to them constantly (along with the record of Robin Hood, which I can still quote almost verbatim). A Bargain for Frances deals with a treacherous friend and two tea sets; one plastic and one china. I have looked for this book almost every time I went to the library, with no luck. Once Emily and I discovered our mutual affection for Frances, she searched around her bookshelves and discovered a much loved copy of A Bargain for Frances tucked in among her other books. I was so thrilled when she loaned it to me, and as soon as I started reading it to Bitty we both knew that the reading would be incomplete without also sipping a cup tea from the little china tea set.

Too Much of a Good Thing

Anyone who knows my daughter Bitty knows that she can be rather (how shall I say it?) temperamental. Lots of ups and downs. Lots. People who don't know her are often worried that she doesn't like them, because she generally snubs the friendly advances of anyone who talks to her. I try to assure them that she treats everyone this way. (Is that reassuring? I'm not sure.) Anyway, she's been on a pretty good streak lately. (Perhaps for two whole days!) I have to admit that these streaks or happiness and affection are charming and a very welcome break from the moody bouts she plagues us with. And when I say "moody" I really mean this unbelievable banshee-like behavior that makes you want to run away screaming.

This latest happy phase has been notably punctuated by intense fits of hugs and kisses. This sounds like a good thing, right? Okay, it pretty much is. She is pretty darling about it. She says things like, "Daddy, I love you so much I just can't stop loving you!" (Of course, she still says other questionably cute things too, such as yesterday at the store when I pleaded with her to stop eating her boogers. She replied, "Mom, that's just what little kids do! They eat their boogers!") She's very sincere about her application of affection and let me tell you, you can feel the love. Feel it, man. Like I said, it's darling for about the first 25 to 30 kisses. And she's a very strong hugger. But after that you start to feel just a little clobbered. Take today at church, for example. She spent the majority of the meeting administering fierce hugs and very loud sloppy kisses. Everyone watching; the people in the pews behind us, Troy, up on the stand; were smiling in an "awww isn't that cute kind of way," but I started to feel like I was wrestling with a very loving octopus. And I know it's beginning to be a problem, because tonight after dinner at a friend's house we had to tear her away weeping because she wasn't "done kissing Cameron yet." I think we may have a problem on our hands.

(Sorry, no pictures for this one - I'm not that handy with a camera. Wresting the three-year-old kissing monster and taking pictures aren't really compatible activities.)

Oh My Ganache

Tonight was our ward's annual chili cookoff. I think this activity is more popular and is better attended than any other activity our church does, including the Christmas party. It really is so much fun. Well, since Troy shot an elk this year he was determined to add an elk chili to the lineup. There was also a dessert contest so I decided to enter that one myself. Troy and I decided on a tasty looking chili con carne recipe found in The Joy of Cooking and then made a few special modifications. For the dessert I used a double-decker chocolate sour cream cake recipe, filled with whipped cream and topped with fresh berries and ganache. Oh. It was awesome. The kids and I spent the afternoon cooking and baking away and I have to say that assembling the cake became a family affair. It only takes a little cream and chocolate melting together on the stove for the family to come running and pretty soon we all found ourselves dipping in fingers, spoons and left-over berries into the extra chocolate concoction. We tried to keep our actual tongues out of the pot. But we did get a little greedy. It wasn't long until we all had not only brown fingers and dripping chins, but even the dog was partaking off the floor. It was a party. And we were all very happy. We got cleaned up just in time to head off to the church, chili and cake in tow. I'm very glad we all ate up that yummy chocolate before we left because our cake got reduced to a few crumbs before any of us got a single taste. Stomper was especially disappointed, so I foresee additional cake making at our house in the near future. (Darn.)

How did the chili do, you ask? Well, I have to say, it rocked. To quote the Simpsons, "Well if it isn't the pope of chili town!" We did not take away first place, (that went very deservedly to my friend Tressa - I must have her recipe) but we did manage three awards. The first award was The Meatiest (something to be proud of, I'd say). We then won the (???) Best Vegetarian. This was due no doubt to the fact that not a single pot of chili there was vegetarian, and someone decided that wild-caught elk was the closest thing to meat-free. (Okay...) But we did win the 2nd best overall, which I credit to the fact that we labeled our chili as the one with the elk meat, officially, "New Mexican Chili with Elk." There were so many chilis there that there was no way everyone was going to try every single one. (Okay, I did. I didn't even sit down at a table - I just walked behind the chili line with a spoon and cup in hand and tried a taste of each. There were some definite stand outs. I think that #9 got totally hosed. It was good. And #3 was so hot that I was dripping sweat for the next 45 minutes.) So you have to draw a little attention to yours so that people will actually try it.

I think chili cook-offs need to be a more common occurance. After all, you know the saying,

"Beans Beans Good for the Heart
Beans Beans....Great for the Heart!"

How Did This Happen?

What a week we've had. Troy was in New Orleans for a conference for most of the week, so I did my best at single parenting. (And now three of the four of us could use a little therapy.) Troy's hotel was on the corner of Canal and Bourbon Streets, the two streets in New Orleans I've actually heard of. And it was Mardi Gras this week. You'd think that would be fun, right? Crazy. I think Troy was a little put off by the whole thing, especially the lovely "Hollywood Hustler" club that was right below his window. I think he did have a good time though - he really tried to take advantage of the chance to partake of the local cuisine. Beans and rice, crab cakes, jambalaya, shrimp.... wish I could have been with him. It would have been really fun. By the way, I would like to know why it is that all things nasty happen while Troy is away. Last time he was gone it was the pink donut episode. This time? More barfing, colds, backed up toilets and tubs...it all seems to hit during his absence. But we survived. Just barely. (Did I mention therapy?)

The kids had both Monday and Tuesday off so I was scrambling to find stuff to do. I think it was on Monday that some friends came over in the morning, children in tow, and the usual happened. Every single bucket of small colorful plastic items got dumped out. Now, I wouldn't have it any other way, of course. I want the kids to have a good time and enjoy the toys we have. I'm so grateful that we have toys to play with at all. But I did have to ask myself how on EARTH we ended up with toys up to our eyeballs. When Stomper was little we used to go to someone's house and I'd be sort of aghast at the toy levels, and here we are, worst of all! The thing is, I really love our collection of toys - we've tried hard to collect fun and interesting things. But the process of picking them all up one by one really emphasizes the overwhelming number and it's a little embarrassing. And after everyone left my brother Peter called to say he was in town, and he and his wife and cutie pie daughter came over for dinner, along with my sister Margaret, two of her three girls plus a friend came too. Yes. You guessed it. Every bucket of small colorful plastic items got dumped out. And I sorted them all out again. I felt again the enormity of overload. I guess I'll just keep on being grateful that we have toys to play with.

Maternal Insanity

I really thought I understood the concept of cause and effect, of choice and consequence, but sometimes I just don't seem to internalize it. Or care. I mean, I KNEW that if I went to a late movie with Misty then naturally I would be tired today. Really tired. But I just couldn't stop myself. I mean, Troy was gone last week, he's leaving again on Sunday, and this week has been a little high on the tantrum scale with the kids. Look at this picture of Bitty:


I just had to take this picture of her after Troy went and got her from about her 20th trip to time out in one day. Her face was so splotchy, her hair so crazed from rubbing it around on her pillow as she wept that, despite being short of temper, I just had to smile and get out the camera. I'm sure this is the kind of parenting day I will eventually block out. Much of the week followed suit. So, even though Troy actually had to wake me up before Misty came to get me, I wanted to go to a movie.

We went to see Australia, which was pretty good. I didn't know that it had been directed by the same guy who did Moulin Rouge, and it started off with some of the same quirky-jerky whimsical style which didn't seem to match the mood of the movie. The story line came to a nice resolution about 1/2 way through, and so we almost left because we were so tired. I'm glad we stayed for the 2nd half - I liked it better. And anyway, a little extra time with Hugh Jackman is hardly a waste of time, even though his muscles are getting so big that his neck is starting to have a larger circumference than his head. Also, someone tell Nicole Kidman, "No more surgery for you!"

The Claw

Several weeks ago I found myself with some alone time with Stomper. (Wow!) He requested a trip to the local Natural History Museum, and seeing as how it was the first Monday of the month and therefore the free day, I could find nothing to stop us. As always, he lingered long in the gift shop, and I did let him choose a small souvenir to take home. He picked out a plastic replica of a Utah Raptor claw with a magnet on one side. He enjoyed it for a few days, and then kind of forgot about it, mostly because he was disappointed that we couldn't get the magnet off without destroying the thing. This week he rediscovered it and asked if we could tape it between two of his fingers. I'm so happy that he's had a revival of his dino-love. He's totally been into playing dinosaurs again and it just makes me happy. I guess when the claw is taped between two of his toes that makes him a raptor, but then he's quite uncomfortable. Not worth it. But if he keeps it taped between two of his fingers then he's actually a baryonyx, which is a predator with long claws that they think was a fish-eater. Information I'm certain you needed to know. He's enjoyed it so much that it's actually been quite challenging to separate Stomper from his new appendage. He's even fallen asleep with it twice. We forgot it was there and he spent the night with it on, and begged to wear it through school. There's where I had to put my foot down, but other than that, he's pretty much been in constant dino-mode, terrorizing the household. He cracks me up. I love it.

The Bad Donut

Shhhh. Listen quietly. You just may be able to hear the toll of doom. I should have heard it myself when my sweet and innocent daughter chose her donut from the case yesterday, but I wasn't paying attention. It seemed so benign, just sitting there on its little tray, lined up so carefully next to all the other donuts, waiting for some sweet child to be beguiled by its lucious pink frosting and gentle smattering of sprinkles. And we were beguiled, oh we were. As often happens on a trip to the grocery store I had bargained for my childrens' good behavior with the promise of the reward of all rewards: a donut. Is there anything better? Not usually, but this time was different. I don't think poor Bitty can ever trust a donut again. Stomper did okay - he went with your typical cake variety, topped with little more than an extra helping of powdered sugar, but Bitty saw that shiny pink frosting and there was nothing she wanted more on earth than that donut. I guess I have to admit, as I watched her eating it in her typical style, from the top down, and her mouth, lips and tongue turned a livid shade of peptobismol pink, that I knew deep down that something was just not right. It wasn't until we arrived in our driveway and I started hauling in a few groceries that I had an inkling of what was really headed our way. Donut left unfinished, dangling from her limp fingers, Bitty solemnly declared, "Mommy, I don't feel so good." Now do you hear the tolling of the bell?

Da Da Da Duuuummmmmm....

I have never seen pink puke before, and I'll tell you, it's a sight to behold. I don't think I'll ever forget it. I hope to never see it again. I don't think that likely since today, as I drove to the same store we had been at yesterday to purchase a forgotten item on the list, Bitty cried out in terror, "That's the store with the donuts!!!!"

Disneyland by the Numbers

Here are the numbers:

Miles we put on the car: 1548
Hours we spent in the car: 25
Kids who had their first visit to the beach and to Disneyland: 2
Cousins whom we loved hanging out with: 3
Children whom we discovered do NOT like spinny rides: 1 (That would be Bitty - she even cried on the Carousel, but somehow loved Dumbo)
Bags of cotton candy consumed: 4
Cavities created: To be determined
Times Bitty wet her pants at Disneyland: 0!!!!
Princesses met: 6
License plates seen from other states/provinces while on the road: 36 (Including Alaska and Hawaii!) (Yay for mommy's OCD...)
Creepy Tour Guides on the Storybook Boats: 1 (and 1 was enough)
Times Stomper rode Star Tours: 4
Times Daddy got sick on Star Tours: 3
Times Bitty rode on Peter Pan: 4
Times the kids will ever go on Pirates of the Caribbean again: probably 0
Points Daddy earned on Buzz Lightyear: 127,900 (Yeah, he's a level 4)
Number of Inches Stomper needs to grow before he can get on Indiana Jones: 1
Number of new Padawan Learners in the family: 1 (Stomper totally took down Darth Maul)
Times the children made it off Disney property awake: 0
Longest number of minutes spent in any given line: 20
Number of calories consumed: Don't want to think about it
Hours spent in the myriad gift shops: Not as many as I feared
Major muscle groups in serious pain after carrying kids around the park for two days: all of them
Level of fun had by all: I'd say an 11.



We had a great trip. I'm kind of on a Disneyland high, even though the days were long and exhausting (I'd rather not be pregnant next time I go) and the drives were...long and exhausting. The kids were such troopers. We had no major melt downs, even after 10 hours in the car on Wednesday, and I have to say, Disneyland just does things right. Yes, sometimes the perpetual music gets a little heavy on the xylophone use. Yes, it's a little creepy how cheery all the employees are. Yes, you pay through the nose to get in there, but even still it's just awesome. Of course it was crowded, but I think that's unavoidable, and the lines were not long at all. I can NOT imagine being there when all the lines are triple what they were. It helped having kids who weren't interested in riding the big rides that usually have the longer lines. No Matterhorn, no Thunder Mountain, and we didn't even mention Space Mountain. Troy did convince Stomper to ride Splash Mountain with him. As soon as I sent them off in line I wondered just what I had done and was waiting to hear the screaming from the top of the big hill. But I guess it was fine - Stomper said he loved it and it was his favorite ride. Of course, he wouldn't go on it again, but at least he went once and wasn't too traumatized.



Before we even hit the big D-land we went to Santa Monica beach. I was so worried that all our days would be cold and rainy, but to our delight we woke on Sunday to a sparkly blue day. It was a little chilly - not too many people actually IN the water at the beach, but we couldn't stop our kids. They put on their suits and everything. It's so fun to watch your kids squealing as they run around playing tag with the waves. The one thing about a January trip to CA is that the water was too cold to swim in. But the lack of crowds sure made up for it.





One highlight of the trip was splurging a little and taking Bitty to the Princess Lunch they have over in California Adventure. It was just a mommy/daughter date and totally worth it. A nice restaurant with really good fancy food, crowns for the kids, and a chance to meet all six princessess: Ariel, Aurora, Cinderella, Snow White, Belle and Jasmine. (Jasmine was totally hot - I saw a couple of pre-teen boys grinning sheepishly as they got their pictures taken with her...) I was a little afraid that Bitty would get shy and kind of shut down, but she was darling. What a kill.



Another total highlight for me was watching Stomper participate in the Jedi Training. He just gets so serious and stoic when he is up on stage like that (primary program not included). He takes it very seriously. He was the first kid they grabbed to fight Darth Maul and the look on his face made his parents laugh until they cried. Well, actually he looked like he might be about to cry himself, but he was just being very intent. And he was so excited at the end - he wouldn't let go of his little certificate for a couple of hours. It was just great.

I think what sums it all up is the fact that Troy, he who loves nature and generally shies away from Disney-type lands, actually wants to go back someday. A big thank you to Peter and Sheri (and her mom!) for letting us crash on the way down, and to Adam and Whitley for hosting us and making us so comfortable at their house. Good times.

Vacation? What's a "vay cay shun?"

As Troy and I were sitting next to each other in the 11-odd hours in the car on our way to LA we were trying to figure out when the last time was that we went on vacation together. I'll just say, it's been a while. And there are several ways to qualify the word 'vacation.' If it means without kids, well, that's ancient history. But even with kids and both of us together it's been a while. And never have we taken on so big an endeavor as to leave for more than about two nights. I'll confess that as we were packing up on Friday morning I felt that the next six days might just be some of the most miserable in our lives. I couldn't imagine my kids hanging in there for so many hours in the car. I'm very happy to report, as I sit here in my brother's LA living room typing away on his computer, that so far it's been awesome!

We had an afternoon drive to St. George where my baby brother (and his wife and baby) live. We stopped in for the evening and I'm so very glad we did. It was actually Sheri (the wife's) parents' house and they were very gracious in accommodating us. We had such a good time staying up late with Peter and Sheri and Sheri's mom just chatting away the night, so much so that Stomper was literally begging to be put to bed. Both the kids spent their first night in the top bunk of a bunk bed (there was a very cool bed with TWO top bunks in the bedroom we were staying in) and though I slept lightly listening for Bitty to come tumbling out, they both slept excellently.

Then yesterday we geared up for the longer drive from St. George to LA (more specifically San Gabriel, just outside of LA) and amazingly enough, the kids did great. I'm so proud of them! No meltdowns. Some highlights? Bitty's comment upon sighting a palm tree: "Palm trees wear extremely funny costumes" (???) Driving through that crazy place called Vegas, which just seems like it's on a different planet. Sitting next to my husband and talking for a few hours. Of course, that time was definitely punctuated with many interruptions - I think I spent like 30% of the drive unbuckled, turned around backwards with my bum facing the windshield as I kept the kids busy and satiated. Also, I think I don't ever need to live in inland California. Wow.

So now we are enjoying a weekend with cousins. I just love watching the kids together - both kids have a playmate and are very happy here. Adam and Whitley have a very cute and comfortable home, and we love just being together. Today brings a trip to the beach - not the warmest weather, of course, but neither of the kids have ever seen the ocean and we're not going to miss it. Tomorrow is the big D-land, and I think I might be more excited than the kids are. I just hope it isn't pouring rain!

Trip to the Cretaceous Period

I think it may have been almost two years ago that I was watching The Today Show when a story came on about a traveling show called Walking With Dinosaurs, based on the BBC television series. By the way, if you have a dino lover in your life, that series is certainly worth checking out. Anyway, this show looked totally incredible. Life sized dinosaur puppet-things; some with people inside and some mounted on little cars. I began that day to hope that they'd make a trip to Salt Lake. Truth be told, as much as I did hope they'd come I also knew it would be best if they could postpone it a couple of years. I could imagine Stomper, who was maybe four at the time, kind of freaking out and going fetal in a dark, loud room filled with large roaring dinosaurs. He couldn't even handle going to a movie at that age. Well, my wish was granted perfectly. The show did indeed schedule a visit to Salt Lake, and at a much later date than when I first read about it. Perfect timing. Stomper is just on the brink of growing out of his passion for the prehistoric, but he's still there. Despite his newer love of all muscley men (I mean superheros) I catch him reverting back to dino play all the time. We decided, instead of shelling out the bucks for the whole family to go to just have one parent go with him, and he picked his daddy. I love that. Troy is just a great dad and I love that my kids seek out time with him as he seeks out time with them. So I don't have an official report for you, but according to both Stomper and Troy it was pretty awesome. You can find all sorts of videos from the show on YouTube. You'll have to forgive our pictures a little - it's not easy to take pictures inside a dark arena. But I'm really glad the boys got a chance to go. For the record, Stomper did walk into the dark arena and instantly plug his ears, but luckily a very kind usher had earplugs on hand which helped out a lot. I really hope it's something that Stomper will always remember. If not, I want a refund.

Blah. Blah. Blog.

In direct opposition to my good mood that lasted all through December, Christmas and New Years, I have now begun a streak of thoroughly rotten moods. I hate January in the valley. Why is it that just by taking down the tree and putting away the gifts there is suddenly nothing to do? I'm sure that my state of pregnancy has much to do with my lack of energy and general slothfulness, but I blame also the gloomy weather, the lack of light and the disappearance of the holidays.

My sister and I had a most interesting conversation at Christmastime. She has always been very grumpy about Christmas - hating the commercialism, the money money money, all of that. I didn't really understand and thought her rather a grinch until I had kids myself and found the pressures of Christmas to be overwhelming. Don't get me wrong - there's always been so much I love about the holidays, but there is also much for a mother to do. Both of us did better this year. I have to say, I was downright giddy for most of the season. It was such a fun year. Somehow I just let myself love the process of the season as well as the end result. My sister also found herself enjoying Christmas, even catching herself cheerily wrapping gifts next to a crackling fire while listening to Christmas tunes. Sounds crazy, but it's true. We had a discussion about this and she told me what kind of flipped her switch. It happened during a conversation with her neighbor. Christmas is about bringing in the light. The bleak midwinter can kind of seem like the caves of despair, don't you think? So dark, so cold, so hopeless at times. Christmas is bringing a light into our caves of despair. We all have them, don't we? And somehow she was able to accept that for some people, putting a giant blow-up Homer Simpson in a Santa suit on their roof is just their way of bringing the light. We're all celebrating the return of the light. I remember being disappointed as child when I learned that the birth of Christ did not happen in December. But now I get why December is such a perfect time to celebrate. Our bodies need the return of the sunlight. Our souls need the hope and promise of The Light, the Savior. I love it.

Of course, now it's January.

For today, I think I'll bring a little light into my cave of despair by thinking about what I'm grateful for:

* My friend Karen got to adopt her second girl. I'm really happy for her.
* Both of my sisters-in-law announced their pregnancies at Christmas time - we'll all hopefully have babies within a couple of months of each other.
* Both my kids had the flu this week and only threw up once.
* I got to spend New Year's Eve with good friends, even though I ruined the fondue.
* My family had a really great gathering on New Year's Day where we exchanged our homemade gifts and I thought it was a great success.
* I seem to be over morning sickness, for the most part.
* Troy has a job still.
* Our new bathroom, though not entirely completed, is so beautiful that it's now my happy place and I'm bathing much more often than necessary.
* Troy is so cute with our kids. He's so often able to be fun and happy and silly with them when I'm already at the end of my rope.
* I have a multitude of really awesome friends.
* The sun is shining today. Even though I know the haze is on its way, the sun in shining.
* We updated our computer so it's no longer super frustrating to use.
* We're getting ready for a trip to CA to visit my brother and Mickey Mouse next week.
* We're almost half way through January.

Okay, I feel better.

Those Trickey Chinese!

The apple has no stem. I repeat. The apple has no stem.

Well, for the fourth pregnancy running, the Chinese gender calendar is correct. At least we think so. There wasn't a super clear shot of the crotch zone, but from what we could tell,

We're having a girl!

Needless to say, we were very excited, no matter the gender of our baby. She's healthy and also apparently quite stubborn, as evidenced by the fact that we were in the ultrasound room for over half an hour, the technician firmly prodding my belly over and over in an effort to get the baby to turn over so we could see the bottom of her spine. Nothin' doin'.

I think that while still carrying this baby I shall call her Matilda. I actually kind of like that name, well, actually the resulting nicknames: Matti, Tilly, Tilda. The name has been given the kibosh already by Troy, not only because I think he hates all of those names, but because as a child the family fondly dubbed their dishwasher Matilda. Okay, that name is definitely out. And besides, we may get a big surprise on delivery day with the discovery that the apple does indeed have a stem.

The Big Day

When I was a child I used to get really really confused as to why my parents were always so darn exhausted on Christmas Day. I just didn't get it. Hey Mom and Dad? I get it now. Thank you. I'm exhausted. And happy.

As can be predicted, Christmas morning was great. I think it was partly great because my kids had been up so late the night before that they slept in until almost 9:00. I was expecting Stomper at least to come pounce on us and wake us from the sleep of the dead, but we had to wait for him for a while, and when he woke up we had to go get Bitty out of bed. Is this normal? I don't think so, but I'll take it. Most people I know were done with presents by the time my kids were up. That's okay - it made the morning last longer and the rest of the day last..shorter.

I need to say that it's always so hard for Santa to know how many gifts are too many and how many are too few. The kids need about the same number as each other, right? Plus they need to be equivalent in magnitude, right? At least approximately? And he should not go berserk, but he also gets happy giving them things he knows they will love. It's a tough balancing act. Not that Santa is complaining - Santa is very grateful that he can give gifts to the Preslar kids at all. It's just something that scrambles Santa's brain a little bit every year. Any other Santas out there have the same dilemma? A dilemma we're glad to have, of course.


This was the last year we felt Stomper would enjoy a dinosaur. He's been so into superheros and action figures lately that the dino-obsession is waning. He'll come home from his friend's house and complain that our toys don't have enough muscles. So aside from one last really great dinosaur (notice the streak of blood on its face? Very realistic...), Stomper mostly got toys with muscles. Bitty got a new and improved dollhouse - it's actually a great hand-me-down from a friend (thanks again!) and it was a hit. Her favorite, though, was probably a tutu and ballet slippers. She's asked to wear tutus at friends' houses, but she always gets upset (in that special way that only Bitty can) that the tutu is going DOWN. She wants it to go UP. Meaning, she wants the kind of tutu that sticks out straight from her waist, not the long flowing kind. So she got a tutu that goes UP and pink ballet slippers, which we couldn't get her out of all day.

Here's poor Alex, who gets upset on Christmas morning, as at all times that are boisterous and filled with his people not sitting still. When I finally sat down on the couch he burrowed in between the new dollhouse and my feet, the only place for his head being inside the dollhouse. What a nutty dog. There are times when he acts offended that you invited him up on a comfortable bed, but when he's freaked out he'll go anywhere to be close to you. Love him.

After a quiet morning together we went back to my folks' house, just us this time, and we enjoyed brunch with them plus Troy's parents too. My parents put together quite the feast - we only needed about 10 more people there to finish up all the food. It was really nice. The weather was horrid - no magical afternoon of sledding this year - it was so windy and sort of sleety. But being together while the kids played happily and quietly (and mommy got a little nap...) was just the ticket. By the time we left it was after 4:00 and then it was just a downhill slide until bedtime. It was then that the real storm hit and we got pounded. Eight inches, which isn't so much, but it was blowing in like crazy all evening. Made for the perfect setting for a fire, popcorn, and A Christmas Carol with my husband.

Nice day. I'm grateful for it, for the things we enjoyed today like the gifts and the tree, and also the things we enjoy every day, like our family and friends.

The Eve of Christmas

I think that this year may have been one of the most fun Christmas Eves we've ever enjoyed. Troy's family always gets together the Saturday after Christmas, so we generally spend the evening with my family. Almost everyone was there. We really missed Peter and Sheri and their cute daughter. They were the only absentees. Plus, Troy's oldest brother Rick came along which was really fun for everyone, especially Troy, and hopefully Rick too.

The highlights of the evening started with a white elephant game. I totally scored and got a Hannah Montana lamp - can't wait for my next white elephant party to pass it along. I think Adam and Whitley are not so sure about the gift I brought and which their son won - a self-inflating whoopie cushion. What white elephant party is complete without a whoopie cushion? We enjoyed our traditional Christmas Eve fare of Mexican food - posole (hominy soup) of course, that's the favorite, and a Cafe Rio-esque pork salad that turned out well. We made gingerbread houses, sang a couple of songs with Adam accompanying on guitar, and ate a really yummy peppermint/chocolate/fluffy/rich dessert by Whitley. I have to say, though, that what really made the evening for us was doing the dishes. I know this sounds crazy, but it's true. We had so much fun.

The reason for that is because Whitley taught us a very fast paced card game similar to Uno, I think called 99. The game is short and sweet, and the loser of each round goes to the kitchen to do dishes. Two people are in there at a time, and each time a new loser heads off, one of the dish-doers returns to the game. For one thing, none of us felt guilty about not being the one doing dishes. We didn't lose dad to the kitchen for the hour after dinner like we usually do, and everyone got a chance to help. And it was really really funny. So call me if you want the rules because it totally made the night.

Also, I can't help but love watching all the kids together. Adam and Whit's little girl, who's almost two, seems to just love Bitty. She chased her all over the house all evening long, calling out her name in the sweetest little baby talk. Bitty got a little freaked out, butquickly discovered that if she ran away, her cousin chased her, making a great game of tag. Stomper and his cousin Smith are also a great duo. Margaret's girls were so cute with the smaller kids, and all in all it was just a really fun night. We didn't end up leaving until 9:45 or something, and dinner started at 5:00. That's always a good sign. Of course, by the time we did leave my dad was a little worn out and gave us his classic sendoff, "Thanks for coming! And thanks for going!"

Bitty's Class Performance

It doesn't seem that long ago that Troy and I went to hear Stomper sing in the wonderful Miss Patty's class program, and I guess it wasn't - only two years ago! But he has changed so much. Look at this:



He has grown up so much. His face sure is thinner, anyway, but I think he can still wear that shirt. Now suddenly it's Bitty's turn to sing all the cute little songs. She almost didn't - it was a close call. I took this picture of her in her little elf hat, and then she bumped her head and not only wouldn't put the hat back on but was refusing to be in the program at all. She agreed to sing only after I came down on the floor by her feet and sat there for the whole time. Which was fine.

Those little three- and four-year-olds are pretty darn cute. Miss Patty does a great job. Hopefully she sticks it out for another few years so our last babe can be in her class too!

The Great Tree Hunters

I think it was in early December when Troy told me that his coworker Steve and family were going to Bear Lake mid-month to pick out a Christmas Tree, and that we were invited to join them. It sounded like a fun time - a weekend with friends in a cabin, going on the proverbial tree-cutting venture, stuff like that. I'll admit that as the time drew near to go I was dreading it a little bit. I had a horrible image of us being stuck inside a cold, damp cabin with grumpy restless kids for hours on end, cold miserable walks through the snow, and a whole weekend of parental exertion on my part.

Boy was I wrong! We had such a great weekend. First of all, Steve and Mary are great company, and we had a really good time with them and their two cute girls. The kids got along really well. I was proud of Stomper who played well even though he didn't have anyone there his own age. Second, the cabin is just awesome. So cozy and comfortable, so well laid-out. It was a pleasure to be there. And it was so beautiful. Snowy woods, ice-blue lake, the works. And getting the tree was the funnest part. We didn't have far to drive before we found a grove of the perfect trees. And luckily the only species of tree we were allowed to cut were just the kind I like - really tall, kind of sparse, so you can see all the ornaments hanging down. The kids loved tromping through the deep snow and we found a great tree. I'm really grateful for warm snow clothes.

I was worried that the kids wouldn't sleep well, but again, I was totally wrong. Our family was in a cozy attic bedroom with a queen bed for Troy and me plus two twins for the kids and they slept like little logs.

I really hope this becomes a tradition for us because it just couldn't have been any more fun. I just love our tree, and even though Christmas is over, I can't bear to take it down yet. Other years I've been ready to nix the decorations the day after, but this year I'm just not ready to let it go!

Miles to blog before I sleep, miles to blog before I sleep.

Merry Christmas! Yesterday.

So, I'm a little behind. Okay, really behind. What with all the hustling and bustling, both of whom I'm sure you're quite familiar with, I haven't blogged much. I guess that's partly because I'm enjoying doing things instead of writing about them, but now I want to get a few things down to remember.

Here goes.

Gretel Takes Over

One of my favorite Christmas tradtitions has become, these past three years, to drive up to the Land Bountiful to make gingerbread houses with the Mayfield Clan. I love it because the kids love each other, we always eat a yummy dinner, and most of all I love laughing at Misty and myself. We both want to make a perfect Martha Stewart gingerbread house and yet we know, deep down, that really it's better to actually involve the children in our holiday activities. It is so hard to reign in my impulses to control the whole process. Luckily for me, my kids were so much more interested in eating frosting and candy than actually applying anything to the house:



It ended up looking okay - gingerbread houses always look pretty cute. Well, I made the mistake of keeping the house on a lower piece of furniture this year than last, and the house has seriously suffered the consequences. It only took a day or two before the roof had been picked clean of all candy. Luckily the "frosting" we use is pretty tough stuff, because the kids haven't been able to get much else off, but it's not from a lack of trying, believe me. This evening, after our very disappointing venture (see previous post) I was doing the dishes when I heard Troy laughing heartily. I turned around, and he quietly pointed for me to look through the kitchen doorway into the entryway. I guess Bitty got fed up with our super-strength frosting and took matters into her own hands:






I hope our holiday guest and visitors enjoy looking at the half-masticated, slightly gooey remains of our gingerbread house.

Ah, Christmastime.

I've been doing pretty well with the whole Christmas Spirit thing this year. I'm rather proud of myself. But I can feel it slipping, just a little. Not much, but a little, especially this evening when, upon returning from what was supposed to be a festive evening out, my daughter walked in the door and said, "Dad, that was a really disappointing venture." She's three. She really said that. Now, I have to admit that Troy was teasing her earlier, as she was sobbing on the way home, (she did a LOT of sobbing today) and may have said something similar along those lines. But when she said that, Troy and I looked at each other and just about keeled over from trying to not laugh. A disappointing venture? Are you kidding me? Well, we'll try to take it up a notch next time young lady! I guess a drive around Christmas Street just wasn't exciting enough for her.

A Baritone? Really?

I totally lucked out this year. I entered the random drawing for tickets to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert - it's hard to get your hands on those sometimes. It's just a raffle. But somehow I landed four tickets to the Thursday evening performance. I wasn't as excited this year as I was last year (when I insisted that my parents take me with them to see The King's Singers...fabulous....) because I'd never heard of the performer. His name is Brian Stokes Mitchell, and I guess he does a lot of stuff on Broadway. We invited my parents to join us - not only are they fun to spend time with, but I felt it was my turn to take them someplace. On the way in we talked to some nice girls who knew more about Mr. Mitchell, and informed us that he's a baritone. I have to admit, my expectations sunk just a little bit. I'm just such a sucker for a tenor. I'll tell you, when we went to the Messiah Sing-In a couple of weeks ago I just about leaped off the balcony when the tenor opened his mouth. Now that I think about it I wonder what I would have done once I jumped off - I'm not really imagining that I'd charge the stage and attack the man. I think it's more the feeling that if I jumped, I'd just float along on the glory of his voice. I LOVE tenors. Well, I now stand corrected. On Thursday night this Brian Stokes Mitchell opened his mouth and out came the richest voice I've ever heard. I got shivers. He was great. It still wasn't quite the same as last year, but hey, last year I was with my folks and their seats were totally front and center. This year we were about as high up as you can get in the conference center, way off to one side. We didn't get just blasted with music but it was a really nice evening. So, Brian Stokes Mitchell, you have a new fan.