Bathing Beauty

I love a naked baby. What can I say. And Bundle just loves the tub. It's a great combination.

We're SOOO Glad When Daddy Comes Home

Troy had two business trips in one this past week. He left on Monday for Scottsdale, Arizona and came home yesterday via St. George. We missed him. A lot. Stomper missed his daddy so much that I was forbidden to mention him because it would make Stomper cry. Awww! I usually do fine without Troy for a night or two but by about night three I'm starting to crack a little. (Speaking of cracking, a cute little boy I know saw me yesterday and recognized me as 'The Lady Who Lives in the Crack House,' because of the cracks in our wood floors! Ha!) Anyway, by yesterday, day 5, I was really starting to lose it. I almost posted a quick entry that would have gone like this:

"Bundle is teething and won't let me put her down and Bitty won't stop playing the same game of pretend with me and Stomper is treating his friends like a jerk right in front of their parents and Bitty was awful in front of that same parent and I can't manage to cross a single item off my to-do list and it's my friend's birthday and I can't get her present to her and we've eating nothing but crap for four days and I just spilled gasoline all over myself and it's been a terrible horrible no-good very-bad day! Waaaaahhhhh!"

That's what I would have posted except that I had to quickly shower while Bundle was sleeping to get the gasoline off of me. Duh. I was at the gas station pumping gas. I heard the little handle click like it does when your tank is full so I pulled the nozzle out. Guess what. It was the car next to me that had finished filling, not mine, so I created a spewing fountain of fuel that soaked me from shoulder to socks. Our house still reeks, though my skin isn't burning any more. My clothing is soaking outside, but I don't think it's going to make it. Poor Troy walked in the door and said, "Why do I still smell the airport?" Sorry honey. Doofy wife here.

Now Troy's at a movie with the big kids. The poor man is enduring Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakual. Good daddy.

Here's another reason Troy is a good daddy. Stomper gave him a little science kit for his birthday. They were working on a project together and found it coming up short of Stomper's expectations so Troy totally rigged the thing to work.


He's awesome. Here's a picture of Troy with some of his friends who came to his 40th birthday party.


This was a while ago but I just wanted to see Troy among this great group of fellows. He's always had such wonderful friends and I think it's a reflection of what a wonderful person he is. Sigh. He's going to start leaving me more often so I'll gush more often.

A Grand Day Out

Ah sweet March. You're such a tease. I love you for it, though. For giving us just a taste, just a nibble of spring right when we're ready to give up all hope. The past few days have been more like spoonfuls than nibbles of spring. It's been great. One afternoon as the kids had friends over I popped a bowl of popcorn and spread a blanket outside and we all just basked. Well, I basked. Bitty and Stomper did what they always do - they went straight for the dirt. And Bundle experimented the new variety of flavors and textures to be enjoyed (put in her mouth) in the great outdoors. She tells me that grass is okay but dirt is a little gritty. And don't even try keeping that girl away from popcorn. She adores the stuff and will climb any obstacle in her way to get to it. By the way, why do I forget every year that kids burn in the sun? The air is so cool and refreshing, the sun so warm and inviting that I completely forget to sunscreen and I toasted poor Bundle's neck. Sorry honey. I'm now equipped with the sun block and sunhats now. It only takes one sacrificial pale little neck each year to get me back on the ball.

A few photos of our lovely afternoon out:

But You Won't Eat a Green Pepper?

My kids. Don't get them. The whole 'eat your vegetables' thing is kinda rough at our house. Okay, Bitty's pretty good, but Stomper? The person who can get his daily quota of veggies in that boy is a better parent than I. I can barely get the kid to choke down a smoothie. But you know what my kids are crazy about? Just absolutely wild for? Seaweed. Yes, seaweed. Roasted and salted sheets of seaweed. When my parents came to pick me up from my mission in Korea we had seaweed several times. My dad said, "Mmmmmm. It's like eating ...crunchy, ...salty paper." My mom said, "Ewwww. It's like eating ...crunchy, ...salty paper." Funny. I guess my kids are more on the "crunchy, salty paper is yummy" side of things. Even Bundle's in on it. I'm sure it's not the best way to fill a kid with dark green vegetables, but it's better than a McNugget, right?

Wrestling

I have entered the baby phase with Bundle in which we are in a Herculean wrestling match at all times. She wants to get down and walk, but she doesn't know she can't walk yet. She wants to grab everything within her visual range, but she doesn't know that there are things that will cut her or burn her. She wants to put everything she touches into her mouth, but she doesn't know that dog hair picked off the carpet is not actually a delicious thing. I guess I'm not sure on that one, having never really tried it, but I'm going with the popular opinion on this one. She also has a knack for locating any chokeable item instantly, zeroing in on it and then lunging for it with all her tiny might. Yeah, I'm not getting a ton done around here.

I would just like to say one thing. Normally, there is no one to blame but myself for the spills and stains you can see dotting my clothing on any given day. In a heroic effort to show his love for me, Troy calls my super-splashy food habits "endearing," but we know the truth. However, yesterday, as I sat at a lovely Thai lunch with my sister, I was engaged in a non-stop battle over noodles, lettuce, chopsticks, beverages, ice, napkins, baby toys, and more with Bundle that did not let up for the entire hour. The food on my clothing? NOT my fault. Yet, still kind of endearing. She'll only be 9 months for about 2 1/2 more weeks, right?

The Last Mess!

I've had a month of messes. Serious messes. I have baked cakes for parties. I have made chili for cook-offs (okay, just one of those). I have thrown a party for my husband, I have helped make breakfast for 75 people. It has been a busy month! Then Tuesday night was the culminating feast - our church dinner for the ladies, which I made. It was a lovely evening, and I had great help from many people. Want to see what I came home to that night?


A big ole' mess, that's what. Which is what I seem to be best at making. Luckily it wasn't actually that tough to clean up. And I am officially calling my busy month of cooking done! Done! Wait. I just signed up to cook soup for the teachers next week for parent teacher conferences. Great.

You know, I'm reading this silly little book called "Being the Mom." Nothing deep, just some funny stories and good reminders. I am not sorry I'm making soup next week - I'm remembering to be grateful for my 'have to's.' Making soup for teachers means that there are good teachers out there. I am grateful for a good school for my kids, and I'm grateful to have kids at all. Might as well make soup for what I'm grateful for!

I am certain I can manage soup without creating THIS kind of mess, though, don't you think?

Where'd My Baby Go?

Do you ever have one of those moments when you look at your child and they seem to have suddenly grown up by a great leap just overnight? You'd think all the growing and developing would happen so gradually but I tell you, it doesn't always go that way! Yesterday I found myself watching Bundle in amazement all day long. She just seemed so much bigger than the day before. I'm sure it had to do with the fact that she was wearing this cute little pair of big-girl jeans instead of a soft baby romper. Also, she figured out how to pull herself to standing yesterday. Her hair just seemed a little longer, her face a little more grown up. She had a light in her eye that seemed new. A light of discovery, it must have been. "Hey! I am going to figure out how to get around by myself!" It's so endearing, so exciting, and awe-inspiring too. And sad. So I'm going to post a picture of her from what doesn't seem that long ago, just to remind me of my soft new little Bundle.

Kid Updates

Stomper received a book as a gift a couple of days ago. He was so excited, and even read it to me, which is really saying something. (The reading thing has been somewhat of a challenge, to say the least.) Of course when I saw what the book was I just about jumped out of my skin. The single most frightening book of my entire childhood! Can you guess what it was? Does the phrase, "pale green pants with nobody inside them" ring a bell? Oh Dr. Suess! I know you thought it was a good idea to write about overcoming your fears but seriously, that book, with it's dark night-time pages and creepy empty pants running around following the little guy - that was just scary! Stomper seemed to think it was hilarious and read with great theatrical gusto, but even now I get the willies just looking at those pale green pants! With nobody inside them!


Speaking of great theatrical gusto, Stomper's little first grade class just put on a rousing production of The Owl and the Woodpecker. (Heard of it? Me neither.) Stomper, who played both a pirate and a crocodile, was so cute - he belted out his lines most heartily. It made me come to a decision. Next time he has a speaking part in the annual church primary program and he tells me he's just too shy I'm going to tell him bull-oney. A definite shout-out goes to the drama, music and dance teachers at Wasatch who put a LOT of work into these productions. I enjoyed watching their directions from the floor as much as I enjoyed the kids.


And Bitty. Oh Bitty. We go through great times and then suddenly she's all off kilter or something. Seriously. Two weeks of cheerful happy loving little daughter and then overnight she turns a corner. "Mom, I WISH I were you." "Why, honey?" "Because then I wouldn't have to LISTEN to you."

Also, how do I respond to this one? "Mom I did something gross at school today. Okay, it was kind of sweet." Uh oh. "What did you do, Bitty?" "Brennon and I were pretending to get married so I kissed him. On the lips." We proceeded to have a conversation about keeping kisses special just for our family, but she seemed to have an answer for everything. Also this week she let me know that I was not to 'boss her.' I responded that oh yes I was supposed to boss her because I AM THE BOSS! She politely informed me that actually I'm not the boss all by myself, but that daddy is also a boss. Well guess what, darlin', he's on MY side! Now shut it! Of course I didn't actually say that, but I have wanted to several times the past few days. Sheish! What happened?

Wow. I look really tired in that picture. Maybe because I am.... should go to bed..... Bitty's still talking to me from her bed behind a closed door. I wish I were her! Because then I wouldn't have to LISTEN to her. Just kidding. She's charming and hopefully she'll like me again in the next few days.

Happy! Birthday!

There you go, folks. THAT's what 40 candles look like. Thanks to Troy's parents Morris & Carol for spending the time planting those candles in the little cake garden there - I guess it must have helped them pass the time with all three of our kids (did you hear that! All three!) while Troy and I went out for dinner at our favorite; Bombay House. Happy Birthday, Troy.


Also celebrating a milestone yesterday was little Bundle, who hit her 9 month mark. Shock. Awe. How does this happen? Time marches on unrelentingly, bringing with it new joys to savor every day and sadness of letting go too.


Bundle is a delight. She's happy, hilarious, and prefers to sleep within a 10 foot radius of her mother. She loves growling, chattering away with new sounds every day, flapping her arms, and seems to favor frustrating herself by flopping onto her tummy and not crawling. We're a pretty happy bunch around here.

Movie Night

I think it must have been shortly after Bundle's birth that I instigated our official movie night. Troy goes to church meetings every Tuesday night and sometimes he's there pretty late. I was needing a distraction for my big kids especially in those first few months when new babies are especially fussy in the evenings - something for the kids to look forward to, to motivate them to get along and finish up homework quickly and most importantly keep them busy while I put the baby to bed and cleaned up the house. They're very cute about it - we take turns choosing the movie and the kids always know just whose turn it is. Though during the day they'll bicker about the television, on movie night they try to choose movies that the other child will enjoy. We push our big green oversized arm chair and ottoman up to the t.v. and turn out the lights. Of course there is popcorn. I am sorry to say, dear husband, that although we miss you on those long Tuesday nights, movie night is a really fun tradition.

And now, Bundle wants in on it. We were late getting started on movie night this evening so I was still getting things situated when I started the movie. (Tonight's selection was "Sword in the Stone," a Disney classic in my book; I just love that squirrel scene, don't you?) I needed to stick Bundle someplace while I popped the corn, mixed up the chocolate milk and snuck some apples in there in hopes of any nutrition making its way into my children whatsoever. So I plopped her on the chair between the big kids. I've put her there before and she got really irritated but tonight she took right to it. (I'm trying to train my children early to enjoy the t.v.) She sucked on an apple slice and watched about 15 minutes of the show - it was really sweet to see my little trio enjoying our movie night. I guess it won't be long until she cuddles up there with them every time.

Tooooo Much TeeeeeVeeeeee.......

I'm surfacing from my massive Olympics Binge. I just can't help myself. Every two years I find myself absolutely glued to the television just glutting myself on them. Until I've had enough. This year it happened on Saturday morning. I had been doing my normal thing; finding any excuse to be in front of the television queuing up another episode of the Olympics telecast when suddenly I realized I was done. It was right in the middle of the side-by-side snowboard thing when I noticed that I no longer cared. Over the past 15 days or so I hadn't missed a moment. (Okay, I did fast-forward through a few bobsled runs and the like, but you can hardly blame me. The camera work on those long icy paths just makes me nauseated.) I even watched most of the ice-dancing and am a little sheepish to admit that I thought the final performances were pretty neat. (Aboriginal costumes aside.) And then..bam. Done. Please let me turn this off and go DO something.

Obviously the blogging has lagged a little in the meantime. I can't place the entire blame on the Olympics; part of it goes to my almost-9-month old. She spends her entire days either being carried around by me, briefly sleeping, or being set down to play, instantly rolling onto her tummy and then getting really mad that she can't crawl yet. I'm not getting much done around here. Trust me, you should see the house. I'm up at quarter to twelve tonight determined to get the last load of laundry in the dryer before I retire.

I have a few blog posts to catch up on, but I think I'll just quickly post a couple of sweet-fat-nekid baby pictures because they make me happy. Nothing like elbow dimples to make me smile.

My Husband, Some Hotshot

He's such a smarty pants, and it's hilarious.

Last week I made a faux-pas. We have a favorite beverage and keep a case of them around at all times to ward off the afternoon 'snackies.' Gotta love the black cherry and citrus Fresca. My faux-pas was major. I thought I had put a can of Fresca in the fridge to chill for later. Later, I took it out and drank it. Apparently Troy had put a can in the fridge too and I drank his. I swear I put one in too, but the point is that when Troy came down to fetch his frosty and refreshing beverage there were none to be had. And I was in trouble. I begged for mercy, insisting that I really had put one in there, and then mentioned that perhaps he should write his name on his or something.

Cheeky. When I next went to the case to get a can, what do you think I found?


Funny guy.

The New Dynasty

Bitty loves to play pretend, as I have discussed in past posts; here and here. These trends have not slacked off in the slightest. If she can catch me holding still for more than 5 seconds she's all over me with "Mom, pretend you see a penguin in your kitchen and pretend penguins are your favorite animal and....." She gives herself the same name in every game she plays. For a long time she was "Ash." Then she saw the movie Matilda, and we were calling her Matilda for months. That name strangely morphed into the name "Makilla." Don't know where that one came from. She'd say, "Call me 'Killa' for short." Not my favorite, I'll confess. Next was "Mariposa," which is Spanish for butterfly. She got the name from a Barbie doll. I hang my head in shame.

So the next dynasty is upon is. Bitty's favorite name is now Caroline. It's cracking me up because this time she has named herself after an actual person. She doesn't have too many friends in the neighborhood - all the daughters of my local friends are older than she is. They're very sweet with her, but her one friend that was her same age and whom she got along with beautifully (most of the time...) moved to Millcreek. Luckily my friend Emily has had Bitty on her mind. Her boys play with some other boys who happen to have a 4-year-old sister going to kindergarten at Bitty's same school next year. Emily has been trying to set her up with Bitty for months. We finally had our blind date a couple of weeks ago, and they've played twice more since then. There were a couple of rocky moments at the start but pretty much the girls clicked instantly. She is Caroline, and Bitty is somewhat enamored of her. I call Bitty Caroline more these days than I call her by her real name. So funny. I was nervous about what would happen at the next playdate after she started calling her self by her friend's name. The real Caroline was fine with it - she had me start calling her Lisa! Little girls are so funny. And wonderful.

Cookies, Eggs and Socks

That has a ring to it, doesn't it? I mean, when don't cookies, eggs and socks go together?

Friday afternoon my mom invited over me and the kids for a little afternoon playdate. She kept the big kids busy making a few cookies while I let Bundle play with their fabulous collection of Russian eggs. And I finished the socks I've been working on. For a year. Yes, the most expensive socks on the block, I'd say. The yarn was like $18 or something, plus a year of actually knitting them makes me wonder if I should even wear them or just frame them and look at them. They're very thick and cozy; I love them already. Just remind me to wait a while before I knit anything on size 1 needles again, and especially not when I'm going to be having a baby. Because those two factors kind of quintupled the time until they were finished.


Bundle spent her time stirring the eggs in the basket:




And the big kids took over the kitchen in a cloud of flour and very sticky dough that made for better picking at than actual cookies:


An afternoon well spent, I'd say....until the kids got into the valentines chocolate....and started climbing the furniture and whooping like gibbons at the zoo....then it was time to leave.

The Things We Cling To

I just have to make a quick observation here. Sometimes motherhood is about grabbing on to whatever thread you have available and hanging on for dear life. Take, for example, the email I received from The Becky this evening. "James ate 15 bites of fried rice!" Perhaps to you, this may seem completely mundane, but trust me, in the world of The Becky, it is major. The child who doesn't eat actually ate. And he ate what Becky made for dinner. Even the other kids wouldn't touch it! For me today, my thread was that Bundle, who's sleeping habits have continued to nose dive, was put to sleep in her crib not completely asleep and she stayed asleep for two hours. Again, for the general public, this might not be of any consequence. In fact, it might even be considered a negative. But for me, it's the best she's done in weeks! Yay! Of course there were many celebrations today - can I just say, at the close of a long day, that I love my kids? Tonight Bitty burst into spontaneous prayer when she had a concern about her dad. So cute. And poor Stomper, who seems pretty wiped out by this whole illness thing, put himself to sleep at 7:30 after a frustrating evening, which frustrations included the fact that I wasn't prepared to get him gloves with claws on them. Maybe tomorrow, honey.

Quarantined

Remember that old primary song about Oh What Do You Do in the Summertime? Well, I reworded it a little.

Oh what do you on the Sabbath Day when everyone is ill? ...

Oh forget it. I thought I could be all clever and rewrite the whole song to fit our day, but since I started this post at 8:00 p.m. and it is now 10:30, I have decided to bag that idea. Perhaps another day.

Basically, last night I spent the night listening to the oh-so peaceful and slumber-inspring (not!) cacophany of coughing coming from myself and my two older children. By the time 6 a.m. rolled around (WHY can't they sleep IN on weekends and get UP on school days?) they were up and begging for movies and snacks. I figured that sounded pretty good and we should just sit the day out at home. No one at church wants to listen to the entire Preslar family coughing their brains out for three hours, right? So what did we do? Actually, amazingly enough and despite the pit of dread I felt at the thought of an entire unscheduled day stuck inside, the day went pretty well. I had to be on my toes, which is not where I wanted to be when I was one of the patients too, but it worked out.

Some of our activities? Making muffin-tin lunches...


...which were to be eaten in our duo of forts erected in the living room:


We got out every toy we could find, spread it evenly around the living room and set Bundle down right in the middle. She was pretty happy about it!


We also went outside (yes!!!!!!) and walked up to the park for a very brief and chilly run around and scream session. We watched movies, of course, and I played a LOT of 'dragon' with Bitty. "Pretend you see a dragon in the living room." "Okay, I see a dragon in the living room." We colored and cut up magazines (Stomper's bed is now bedecked with tiny cutouts of all the new legos he wants as found in the lego "magazine" we got. Way to get out more advertising, Lego!) We even made cookies. Well, cookie. I actually despise making cookies, and I think it's because I hate washing 3 cookie sheets, and all the tedium of getting the cookies in and out of the oven every 10 minutes. You're stuck in the kitchen for like 40 minutes while the place just gets messier and messier. (Bah humbug to you too.) So we just made one big cookie on a jelly roll pan, and it turned out great. The kids ate theirs with chopsticks.


All in all, I'm happy to say that we survived the day. No one had any major meltdowns, including myself, and the kids were pretty happy and cute. We didn't get much Superbowl watching done, but that's okay. There will be another one next year, and I dare say that there isn't much chance I'll care about either of those teams either! I did catch the Oprah/Dave/Jay commercial that was about 15 seconds long and hilarious, though. I like that Dave.

Okay, well, here's to a better week this week - may we all overcome the illness that has been living at our house for a couple of weeks now. The kids are sleeping quietly, which I take as a good sign. Now let's see if I can do the same.

8 Months and Miserable

I was hoping to post some really cute happy jolly pictures of our little Bundle to celebrate the completion of her 8th month today, but alas, those pictures will have to wait. Happy and jolly she is not. As I predicted, she was unable to avoid catching the Preslar cold and is now so sad looking that she actually made Bitty cry in the car today on the way to ballet class. Bitty looked over at her little sister, sitting there so pathetically, her mouth and nose and eyes dripping and puffy and red, and said, "Mom, she looks really sick!" and started crying. I nearly cried myself. I know a cold is no big thing and we'll be recovered in a day or two, but until then I think we'll all be a little miserable. Having a sick baby is the worst! Observe:


Sad, right? In fact, I think I need to post a picture I took a couple of days ago when she looked more like herself. She was cheerfully spreading food all over her high-chair tray. I'm having such a time getting this kid to eat! She will not touch baby food, and I'm having trouble finding things that are not just 100% carbs to feed her. So I mixed sweet potatoes with ramen noodles. Kind of icky, but she got into them and a few even got into her!


Awwww. I remember that happy little bright eyed babe of mine. She's great at sitting up, great at rolling over onto her tummy, but can't get anywhere from there but really irritated and upset. No where near crawling, I'd say. No worries. As soon as she can crawl I'm in real trouble!

Pathetic Pile of Preslars

That's what went through my mind this morning at 6:30 when I woke up, coughing and ailing and snorting and hacking. Baby Bundle was next to me sporting a pair of goopy eyes - she hasn't begun her round of goopy nose yet, but I feel certain she will shortly, dang it. Also part of our pathetic pile were Stomper and Bitty, who had spent the night coughing and boogering as well. Missing from our party was Daddy, who was upstairs on our spare bed, snoring away as happens when you are on high levels of Nyquil. We missed him but I don't think the bed could have held one more ounce of snot. The kids' eyes were red and puffy and very sad looking. I was just bleary. It was a little miserable and so far has not improved much. As I always say, the family that is sick together is ... sick together.

And THAT is why I have not been blogging for a whole week. I've been too busy blowing my nose, blowing Stomper's nose, blowing Bitty's nose and staying out of the way when Troy blows his.

Thinking Inside the Box

Never underestimate the power of thinking inside the box. This weekend, Troy was about to dismantle, fold up and recycle a large white box that had encased our new memory foam mattress (yes we love it). I quickly stopped him. I had a hunch about our kids and the big white box. We had been in the middle of a rather trying Saturday morning with much dissension between the kids. It was overcast and grey outside and I'll just say that my spirits were in the dumps. Until the box. As I suspected, if you hand kids some crayons and markers and sit them in front of a canvas so white and blank and expansive as was that box they will be busy and happy for many hours. In our case, about four days. Yes, folks, my kids did not start fighting about the box until today. And you would not believe the time they put into the box. The outside is fun and colorful and scribbly, but it's the inside I love. Stomper spent HOURS in there, carefully drawing and painting scenes of dragons and terrible monsters. Bitty threw in a princess and mermaid or two, and it ended up like some sort of cave painting from a prehistoric and magical land. Awesome. So awesome, in fact, that Stomper begged me to let him sleep in the box on Saturday night. It seemed like a hassle to me, but Bitty said, "Oh mom, just let him." So we set up the box in their room with a blanket for padding and a pillow inside. Stomper craweld in and instantly decided that it was too scary. Much to my surprise, Bitty took a turn and seemed perfectly content. I really expected her to come wandering into the living room after 10 or 15 minutes telling us she couldn't sleep, but half an hour after lights out we peeked at her and she had totally zonked.


One funny thing I noted as I was looking at the box was something that reminded me of a bit from the ever infamous "Raising Arizona." Now, I do love this movie, but in general if ever anything in my life is reminiscent of it, it's not a good thing. Here's the box. Look closely to see if you can figure out to what I'm referring:


I don't know if you can see what it took me a few minutes to notice:

" Junior's learning his ABC's!"

Yes, Stomper is figuring out how to spell. Great. I know all bodily functions are hilarious to little kids, but really? So, should I be happy that Stomper finally seems to care about spelling and reading or should I go after him for scrawling one of the dreaded potty words on the box? Oh, this is making me laugh. I'm glad I took this picture! I'm going to save it for the slide show at his wedding.

A Problem

Yes, I have a problem. I'm going to give you a rare glimpse into the happy world of OCD that I live in. Yes, I am now going to show off my very purple To-Do list with all its purple accessories.


How many purple pens does it take to keep one very purple To-Do list? Not that many, that's for sure. But still, my heart flutters with joy as I gaze upon this pile of purple, thus further fueling my illness. Scary, isn't it?