Buck Up! (or) Look Honey, I Did Something!

Miss Hannigan is feeling better today. (See previous post.) I'm trying to suck it up a little, and I thought it would help to mention some happy things.

Happy thing #1:

Today is laundry day, and by some miracle, this blue bucket is still sitting, empty, on top of the dryer. I'll explain. The blue bucket has been dubbed "The Oxi Clean Bucket." (You may notice the huge tote of oxi clean sitting right next to it.) The fact that I have not yet this week filled that bucket with nice warm water, a generous scoop of oxi clean, and some disgusting article of clothing that is nigh-uncleanable is a total miracle. Just think! Bitty didn't poo in her undies even once this week! (Of course, she hasn't pooed much at all, but that is depressing to think about and I'm trying to be positive here.) Also, I have not ruined any shirts of mine by splashing, spilling or drizzling something greasy on them. I'm a rather drippy eater by nature (Troy calls this quality 'endearing,' but I think he's just being nice) and now that I have a huge shelf jutting out from my midsection there's no way for any errant grease to escape landing on me. And look! No shirts in the bucket! Yay!

Happy Thing #2

I actually accomplished something! I have really wanted to get my emergency preparedness supplies going before our babe gets here. It's so overwhelming to think about not only a 72 hour kit but getting a 3 month supply of rotate-able items. I'm not ready to think about the year's supply yet. Anyway, I finally got the bare minimum of a 72 hour kit put together. And then I thought about how I could make a three month supply of food work for us. I decided to make a list of foods that we use regularly. It's not a list of absolutely everything we would use in three months, just a list of things that we always do use and that, if worse came to worse, we could survive on for a few months. I then went and bought a whole bunch of those things. The plan now is that I keep that list on the fridge, and every time I use something from the supply, I mark it off so the next time I go shopping I can replace the item in storage. It's actually working really well, and I'm super satisfied that I actually accomplished something. Most days lately I just look at my to-do list and decide I'd rather go sit down instead.



Happy Thing #3

Stomper had a couple of play dates last week - during our freezing cold, wet and rainy spring break. (It's going to be 80 today...) One day he and his buddy went in the back yard armed with nothing more than a roll of masking tape. Their goal was to make a fort. I think they did a pretty good job. I am just filled with warm happiness when I see my kids inventing things in the back yard, despite the often increased requirement for the use of the oxi clean bucket.


Happy Thing #4

Bitty's love of bike-riding has resurfaced after the long cold winter. Every day she straps on her helmet with only minor assistance and heads out to the back porch for a spin on her little bike. She prefers you to be out there with her, being her spectator. This duty is comprised mainly of applauding for her and shouting, "hooray!" every time she passes you. It does get a little tedious, but her super happy grin is worth it.

Okay! See? I'm not totally bitter about everything! This is good! (Of course, it isn't even noon yet, but let's show a little optimism, shall we?)

My Inner Miss Hannigan

I didn't actually know that I had one inside me. But I do. Miss Hannigan (of Annie fame - come on, you remember her!) is alive and well and living deep in the most bitter corner of my soul, and boy did she rear her mussy little head today. I don't think I'd better give you all the gory details. I'll just say this. How is it possible that the more pregnant I get and the worse I feel, the more my kids need me and are less and less able to help or entertain themselves at all? Can they not find one tiny bit of compassion, empathy or understanding inside themselves? I know, I know. Of course not. Nor should I really expect them to. (Hey there, 3-year-old daughter, let's close our eyes a do a little maternity visualization so you can feel my pain!) It would be nice, though, wouldn't it? I'm sure that they can feel what's coming and have already begun the rat race for mom's attention. Elbows are flying. I guess my question is, with how grouchy I was today, why on earth do they still want my company at all? (Oh. One other question. WHY do my kids like to join me in the bathroom? Can anyone explain this phenomenon? You'd think that's the last place they'd want to be with the things that go on in there, but no, they're pounding down the door. I guess it has something to do with getting their grips on the last shred of dignity I'm still clinging to.)

Well, I should shut up now. Do a little blessing counting. Like the fact that no one got out of bed tonight once they were tucked in. Like that fact that no one actually called me 'mean mommy,' or said, 'you're just like Cruella DeVil' or any of the other things that were running through my head. Or the fact that I probably won't hear the dreaded, "Mommmm-eeeeeee!!!!????!!!!" until tomorrow. Okay, let's face it, there's a good chance I'll still hear that tonight, but maybe it will be from only one of them at a time instead of that trick they have where one of them says it, then starts telling me what they need me to do, and in the middle of the sentence, the other one starts off, like they're singing a round of Row Row Your Boat or something. I think they practice that technique while I'm not around.

Okay. Deep breaths. I feel better. Well, better minus the perma-contraction I've had all day today. Time for a drink of water and a little shut eye.

'Night!

A Tribute to my Father -or- Happy Easter

This is perhaps a little mean. My father is currently living in Belgium and I just can't help but make him twitch a bit, all the way from Salt Lake City. And to make him twitch all I need to do is give him a peek at his worst enemy: Easter grass. He hates the stuff. It is not allowed in his house. It's kind of funny. But dad, guess what. I can feel your pain. This year I was pretty surprised at how easily the stuff spread itself around the house and managed to avoid my vacuuming attempts. It took many days to make our house completely grass free. It just keeps coming back!


We had a nice Easter. I was able to hold off the kids on the egg-dying all the way until the Thursday before Easter. I was then faced with the annual dilemma of determining how many eggs are enough for the kids to make without me having an entire fridge full of hard boiled eggs. It's a hard number to reach. I don't think the kids would ever get enough of coloring eggs. As it was they each got a dozen (I know, I'm kind of crazy) and they had so much fun dying them the first time around that they pretty much re-dyed all of them. Thus most of our Easter eggs ended up being an odd spotty greyish color, but that's okay. They had a great time.


Troy also took both kids to his boss's annual neighborhood egg and candy hunt. Seriously, I don't think the kids got this much candy at Halloween. I couldn't believe the caches they came home with. Fine with me - I got my bribery bowl restocked! (I've been doing a little nibbling myself...)

The big day itself was pretty mellow. Troy has church meetings early Sunday mornings, and we didn't want him to miss seeing the kids find their baskets. We devised a clever plan wherein the Easter Bunny leaves a note for the kids telling them to hurry and get ready for church and when Daddy got home (he planned to sneak away for a few minutes) he'd have a clue for them as to where to find the baskets. The plan would have worked great except that Stomper woke up at about 5:50 and wasn't to be dissuaded from getting his basket then and there. It made me fear this Christmas a little bit. So, fine, Troy helped him find his basket and all of my efforts in doing the notes was wasted. Oh well. Luckily Bitty woke up about 2 minutes before Troy came back and he helped her find her basket too. In the afternoon we enjoyed dinner with Troy's parents and playing with the kids. Nice day.

I have to say that I think it's kind of funny how into dinosaurs Troy and I have gotten. There's this one brand (Papo) that makes really cool dinosaurs. And when we found out that they had come out with a new one (the Allosaurus) of course that is what Stomper found in his basket. He's clearly shown a preferance for toys more squishy in nature, but we couldn't resist. And luckily Stomper's dinosaur passion has reignited and at least for today he's willing to lower his standards and play with a "non-squishy." Phew. (Allosaurus pictured at bottom of picture below...)

Axel Lives On

It turns out that Stomper has a passion for music. He's been begging me to purchase from itunes the theme from Jurassic Park. Trust me when I tell you that I should have bought that before, or perhaps instead of, my most recent purchase. It came about when Troy took Stomper to go see Monsters vs. Aliens. I guess there's a funny little part where the president of the U.S. is trying to communicate with aliens and plays for them "Axel F," the theme from Beverly Hills Cop. Stomper went nuts. He couldn't get enough of it. We tried having him listen to just clips of it from the itunes store. 30 seconds just wasn't quite enough for him. And then, oh then. I thought to myself, "I love to make my kids happy! I know that spending a measly little 99 cents on one song would thrill my child, so why not?" Why not? I will tell you why not. I think that on that day we listened to Axel F for approximately two hours straight. You have to admit that it's a catchy tune, but after two hours it gets a little tedious. Okay, Stomper couldn't have been any cuter. He just sat there, on top of the garbage can, with Troy's makita stereo on the counter next to him. He sat there and bobbed up and down in time (sort of) to the music, humming (sort of) along with the tune.


After two or three days of watching him bop around the house in a rather twitchy epileptic way with Axel F blaring throughout the house, we finally dug out the headphones and plugged them into the ipod and set it for repeat. I confess, it is much cuter to watch Stomper's little dance and listen to him hum along minus the blasting tunes. I really thought he'd be over it by now, but he's still asking to listen to it all night long. Like sleep with earphones in and the music going. I think it's time for me to buy the Jurassic Park soundtrack, don't you think?

Return of the Radish Legs

When I was on my mission in Korea, I had this wonderful companion named (forgive the strange spelling…) Eee Young Mi. We were in the same apartment for a couple of months before we actually became companions. She was a terrible tease and also a hard worker. Well, Sister Eee thought I was downright chubby. (Think of what she'd say now….) And actually she was a little jealous of my chub. She was a total stick. She used to call me Sister Potato, because that's how I was shaped. (In her eyes only, I'm sure.) So in return I called her Sister Snake, which actually kind of ticked her off because she hated being so skinny. (Awww, don'cha feel bad for her?) Anyway, we loved each other and only served together for a very short time. I think maybe it was just one month. One day we were walking around together in the outdoor market. We passed a lady selling big plastic bins of radishes. Not the cute little radishes we have here in America. These things are HUGE. Big fat long white things. I think here they're called daikon radishes. In Korean they're called "moo." As she glanced at them she paused. Then her eyes absolutely lit up with delight and she turned to look at me. "I know what you are! You're a 'moo-dadi!'" (When you say 'dadi,' it's kind of like saying 'darri' but you're flipping your r's, k?) That word, dadi, means legs. Yes, I have radish legs. Big white lumpy things. Isn't that nice?

The reason I'm thinking of this memory is because I looked down at my legs today and this story jumped instantly to my mind. I had to start laughing. I am certain that my moo-dadi legs of today absolutely shame my moo-dadi legs of the past. Pregnancy has settled into my ankles. Not a pretty picture, I know, but I'm hopeful it's only going to last a couple more months. I had an ultrasound yesterday. I'm 32 weeks along (only 2 weeks away from where I was when Stomper showed up!) and I think my midwife just wants to help me feel secure and at peace. I've never had a late term ultrasound before. It's kind of crazy – you can only see one little part of the baby at a time and it's a little harder to tell what you're looking at. I thought it would be easier. Big long feet, all the right parts and pieces, and we could even see some fuzzy hair on the back of her head. And oh yes, it's no longer a question if she was hiding any boy parts in her last ultrasound. She wasn't. I'm actually getting pretty excited for this little gal to show up! It makes bearing the radish legs a little easier.

This is a page scanned from my mission album. Sister Eee is the gal in the blue jumper next to me in front of the fire trucks. (That was an interesting morning...)

The Morning Funnies

Memorable quoteables from each of the kids this morning:

We'll take Stomper first. He was begging and begging for us to go buy him a new toy. I was trying to help him understand that I didn't think buying him a toy was a good idea since he didn't seem interested in playing with any of the other billion toys we already have. Basically, if you want a toy, show me that you're interested in playing with toys! He tried to resolve my concerns by assuring me that if we went and bought him a new toy he'd play with it for one whole hour. He made my point for me, I think.

And Bitty? Well, the story can't be told without me first explaining that Bitty has had a very hard time with some discipline issues lately, and I've had a very hard time finding her motivation to do better. She's an absolute expert on figuring out what carrot I'm dangling in front of her - be it a punishment or a reward - and removing the power of the motivation by not caring about it. There is not a toy, t.v. show, playdate, outing, or chart that is reward enough for her to care; nor is there a time out, favorite toy taken away, banishment or whatever that is punishment enough either. And so, she has had a couple of spankings lately, administered by me. I'll just say that it works. It works so well that it actually works on both kids at the same time. As much as I hate it, I'm chuckling a little thinking of Stomper's most excellent behavior when his sister is in trouble. Well, this morning Bitty was in a full-on wrestling match with her daddy. He had her by the ankles and was dangling her behind his back. I said, "Bitty! Now's your chance to spank daddy!" And she replied, "Oh mommy, I can't spank him! You'd never spank anyone you love!" Whereupon I was instantly reduced to a 1 inch tall and very wilted mommy. Okay, it was pretty funny. That little stinker.

Three Little Maids

One of my favorite musicals....(okay, Anthony, operettas,) is the Mikado, by Gilbert and Sullivan. I've always loved it. You may remember one of the numbers, Three Little Maids from School are We....

It's going to become a popular tune on my side of the family over the next few months. I may have mentioned that we're expecting a baby girl in May. I think I've also mentioned that both of my brothers' wives are expecting also - in fact, they're due one day apart from each other in August. And guess what. They're both expecting girls too.

Get ready for some additional estrogen, family! On my side of the family there are three granddaughters, then Stomper and his male cousin (luckily the two of them were born less than a year apart, so at least they have each other!) and then there are two (correction...) THREE more girls. And now there are three more girls on the way. We need some more boys around here! I guess our fetus could surprise everyone and be a boy, seeing as how the ultrasound wasn't exactly definitive, but I'm pretty sure we've got a girl in there. And of course I'm not forgetting our Matthew, but he's keeping an eye on things from Heaven. So it looks like for now there are just girls girls girls everywhere in this family like crazy! It will be fun to have these three little girl cousins all together, though. Ours will be the oldest of the three, so I'm assuming she'll be the boss, right?

My Best Friend

I never would have dreamed how much I would come to love and depend on this little bottle of glue. As a kid I found the stuff kind of fascinating, as an adult I found it useful, and now as a parent I find it absolutely essential. That is mostly due to the needs of my very creative and somewhat destructive son. I'm sure you can understand why his destructive nature would call for a little super glue. I guess I shouldn't even call it destruction. He'll just play really aggressively with a toy and then be very upset when it doesn't hold up forever. I've glued more arms on dinosaurs and splits in rubber animals than I can count. Thank you, superglue, for saving the day time and time again.

It's the creativity part that really makes me laugh. I will admit that sometimes I feel a bit like an assistant to the infamous Sid, the toy mangler from the first Toy Story movie. Stomper doesn't mangle his toys out of spite, as did Sid; he gets these ideas about changes, or shall we say improvements he wants to make to his toys and isn't happy until we perform extensive operations on them. I've always felt a little guilty about the time he asked me to cut off a rubber lizard's tail and glue it into his open mouth to create a very long tongue. It just seemed cruel. But Stomper could not rest until the deed had been done. Without my trusty bottle of superglue the procedure would have been impossible and I would have had one miserable little boy. Here are two of our latest creations:

This poor creature was once nothing more than a humble spider monkey, purchased from Hogle Zoo. Then Stomper saw a cartoon, The Secret Saturdays, featuring a large ape-person type guy named Fiskerton. He just had to have a Fiskerton toy to play with. Problem? Fiskerton has no tail. Off came the poor monkey's tail. I felt horrible just chopping it off. Then Stomper decided he'd like to transform Fiskerton into this dinosaur creature thingy and he insisted that we needed to shorten the monkey's arms and add a head and tail crest. So we cut out the middle secion of both arms, reattached the shorter arms with superglue and a little duct tape, and glued Stomper's homemade crests on. Now it kind of gives me the creeps.


This guy used to be a lizard. Just a plain old lizard. Now he is the mighty Godzilla. I guess it's kind of great that Stomper's desire for the toys he's interested in isn't satisfied only with a trip to the toy store, which is lucky. I don't think anyone carries Fiskerton toys, or dinosaur creature thingy toys, or any of the other myriad things bouncing around in his head. We just create them! Godzilla has taken over life at the Preslar household. I have to say that I don't know where the first exposure came from, but at this point Stomper is pretty well versed in all things Godzilla. Fortuneately (for Stomper) and unfortuneately (for the rest of us) Troy's oldest brother has a son who went through the same stage, and recently delivered right to our door approximately 15 Godzilla videos. Oh my. At first the only one Stomper would watch was the latest one, from 2002 or so, with Matthew Broderick in it. He thought the covers of all the others looked scary. They're all the old Japanese shows from as early as the 1950s and 1960s. Finally he decided to watch one and now he's totally hooked. I have to say that they are some of the funniest shows I have ever seen. But Stomper loves them. And now I spend a good deal of my time cutting out paper teeth and neck spines, glueing and re-glueing them to a variety of small rubber toys. What a parent won't do for their kid. Just keep the superglue coming. I panic when the bottle gets low.

Au Revoir

I'm totally behind. I think I started this post...oh, I don't know, multiple days ago. I keep pulling it up on the computer, looking at it, and then getting up and walking away for some reason or another. I'm feeling a little tired, people! So anyway, like I was saying....

I think it was all the way last May that my parents got a phone call from...huh...I don't know. Someone from our church inviting them to serve for another length of time in a mission-type capacity. They would be doing something along the lines of government relations, living in Brussels, Belgium, and traveling around Europe. Sounds awful, doesn't it. Well, they were very excited to go - they started studying French and learning about European politics, but they never really got a firm departure date. Then suddenly, about 10 days ago, they found out that they were to hop on a plane in just seven days. It was a little crazy, but luckily they had been preparing a little here and a little there for months so it wasn't too overwhelming. It was just so strange to say goodbye so quickly.

We had a family dinner the Monday before they left, and then I managed to see them three times the next day, and then suddenly on Wednesday they were gone. Crazy! I'm excited for them, though. I really admire my folks for how active and involved they are. I'm hoping to visit them sometime - they'll probably be gone about 18 months, but that time could vary a little bit. What with a new baby on the way, I'm really not holding my breath, but I haven't given up all hope that I could actually make my first trip to Europe. That would be great. It might kill me to be so close to Italy and not make it there, but I think that's a trip for the future.

I can't believe how long it took me to post those few little paragraphs, but there you are. Here are my parents with my kids from last Monday, a week ago today:



So, Mom and Dad, I hope you are doing great! We love you! `And let me just say, I've become a huge believer in skype. I can call my parents! And see their faces! They could see mine too if my huge belly didn't keep getting in the way. Actually, it's pretty much hanging around my knees at this point, so the facial obstruction is diminishing.

My goal? Blog again before another entire week has gone by!

The Budding Artiste

I am so enjoying Bitty's drawing skills. Stomper never cared much for drawing - he only really started adding any detail whatsoever to his drawings over the past few months. Before that it was pretty much scribbling. But Bitty, probably in part from watching her brother, has really gotten interested. She even likes to write her name. This particular work of art she told me is about "a man in a mouse suit riding a skateboard in the Himalayas." Didn't know she'd ever heard of the Himalayas, but I guess she has. I asked her what they were, and she said, "Someplace very far away. In Africa." Well, at least she knows it's a place no where near here.

I Believe in Tractors!

I just have to record a story here. It happened several weeks ago, and isn't especially significant to the story line of our lives, but every time I think about it I keep on laughing. I decided that I just have to keep it here to always remember it.

In our ward is a young couple who have a little girl. They are a very sweet family. The father was raised on an onion farm in Oregon, and he's just about the nicest person you'll ever meet. Anyone who lives in our neighborhood will know exactly who I'm talking about. This man has a passion for John Deere tractors, like no one I've ever seen before. He's like a little boy about them - he has model tractors in his house, tractor t-shirts and even a clock that chimes each hour with a different tractor engine sound. I love it, although it kind of scared me one day while I was over there babysitting. I could not figure out what kept revving at me.

Well, one day in church this guy was sitting behind us. Bitty was in one of her classic grumpy tempers, you know, the kind where she is disagreeable about absolutely everything. I was trying to make her happy (why do I try?) by offering her a cracker. She took the cracker and looked at it disgustedly. She let me know just how she felt about my efforts by saying, "I HATE crackers." Well, my friend behind us got a rather stricken look on his face. He then smiled, leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to Bitty, "You know, every time you say that a tractor dies!" I could not figure out WHAT he was talking about, until I realized that he had thought he heard Bitty saying, "I HATE tractors!" and he had to have been deeply upset by her opinion, so much so that he had to pull off a Peter Pan-esque feat and have us all clap for the tractors. Clap if you believe in tractors!

Perhaps this isn't funny to anyone but me, but I'll always find it very endearing of our friend the tractor man.

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!