Two years

Sunday was Kyla's birthday. She is now officially two years old, and can torment her parents legally under the "terrible two" guise. It's strange that my baby is two and I am nowhere near having another baby, but I went through this before with Damon, and I promised myself then that I would fully appreciate the "extra" time I got with him, without having a new baby to worry about. I am making myself the same promise with Kyla. I am going to enjoy her third year and give her all the extra attention I was planning to give a baby.

It shouldn't be too hard. I know parents aren't supposed to have favorites, and I will vehemently deny it if ever asked by my children, but Kyla is just so easy to love. She is friendly, happy and adventurous and I love having her in my life every single day. At two years old, she loves everything that Allie loves, and always wants to look pretty. She tries to count everything (usually skipping 4 and 5) and lets you know what color it is (she knows most colors, but struggles with blue, and mixes up white and black). She still eats a lot, but has slowed down somewhat. She is completely attached to her cow and binky, and I am dreading the day we take them away from her. She is going to be moving into a big girl bed in our new house, and will be sharing a room with Allie. Heaven help us all.

For her birthday, we had a small family celebration. I made her a cake (all she asked for was a pink cake and her Grandma Karen. She got one of the two), which she loved.

She got two Barbie's and a baby doll. Just what she loves. Allie suggested we name one of the Barbie's "Grandma Karen." We'll see if that sticks. She loved being sung to and getting to blow out her candles (we did it twice). Birthdays are so easy when kids are young. I love it.

We took a trip to the cemetery to visit Great-Grandpa and Grandma Trapnell, Great-Grandpa and Grandma Thygerson and Great-Aunt Lo, as we celebrated Memorial Day a little early. The cemetery was gorgeous, and nearly every grave had fresh flowers, which Kyla promptly sniffed.

Here are the kids with Tyson. Three of the four probably have no clue what was going on, but I think Damon understood. That's all that matters.

Quick catch up

The week before I left for San Diego, Kyla was sick. She complained all day that she was "coldy," and cried a lot. Besides having a fever of 102, she also had nasty diarrhea that she was not happy about. She spent most of the week like this:

You know when she doesn't even want to go outside that something is wrong. Swine flu crossed my mind (she did start with a runny nose/respiratory issues), but Jeff told me I was being ridiculous. I'm sure I was. She is now back to her normal self, saving roly-poly's, worms and wasps from the bug eating ants in the backyard.

The other thing that happened before I went to CA was that Damon started baseball. We have been practicing with him for several weeks, and he has improved so much. Which is good, since he didn't even know how to throw a ball when we started working with him. Jeff still gets frustrated because he remembers sports always coming easy to him, and Damon has a tendency to pout when he's not perfect at it. Still, a sight like this always warms my heart.


Ultimately, he may choose acting/singing over sports, but we're not going to give up without letting him experience every sport imaginable before giving in. First grade baseball here in Mapleton is the best, because everyone gets to hit (and gets enough pitches that they DO hit), so he has had nothing but positive experiences so far. He's not the best on his team, but he's also not the worst.

And speaking of baseball, one night Allie was brushing her teeth, and Jeff was instructing her on how to hold the toothbrush. He told her to "choke up" on the toothbrush, which meant nothing at all to her. He then explained, "hold it higher." She then lifted her chin and raised her arm as high as she could, "holding it higher" as she brushed. We got a good laugh out of that.

San Diego

I spent the weekend in San Diego. Originally, my whole family was going to go together to tour my brother's mission, so I bought a plane ticket to meet them down there. But as it turned out, it wasn't the best weekend for my brother, and it was going to cost me $150 to change my ticket, so I knew that I would be going alone. My aunt, who works for Jet Blue and loves any excuse to travel, decided it would be a great opportunity to celebrate my mom's birthday in San Diego and the two of them decided to meet me there.

We had an awesome weekend, full of laughter, relaxation and GREAT food. The only thing that would have made it better would have been if my sisters could have joined us. It would have been a huge party! We spent time at the temple, which was fabulous...

eating at Truluck's (the first REALLY nice restaurant I've ever been to), and being completely pampered...

and lounging on the beach in La Jolla.

It wasn't very warm and sunny on the coast, but that didn't stop us from spending several hours watching the surfers. Just a short distance away from us was a surfer's shack built in the 1960's, and it is obviously a famous location at Windandsea beach. This couple stopped for a few photos before taking five minutes out of their day to get married.

That's right, the lady in the grey suit was the minister. The man with the video camera (we found out later that it was the boy's grandpa) was the videographer/witness. The couple were young (I would guess 18), and the boy was in the Marines, getting ready to ship off to Afghanistan. It made us all a little sad that no one was around to witness it (besides the three strangers from Utah who couldn't stop staring). An hour or so later, another couple got married under the shack, but it was a big wedding, complete with hundreds of guests. Of course we stayed to watch that one, too. It was too much fun.

On Sunday, I didn't fly out until 7:00 pm (and my mom and aunt left at 1:30). I spent some time driving around, checking out the sights in San Diego. I didn't realize how much water I had been drinking until I suddenly realized I needed to pee. And soon! After some driving, I found a Carl's Jr, and hustled inside, only to find that I needed a token to get into the restroom, and the only way to get a token was to purchase something first. Well, I wasn't hungry in the least and didn't think I was THAT desperate, so I kept going. A few blocks later, I found a 711. Now I was really feeling like I might burst and asked quickly where the bathroom was. The cashier informed me that they didn't have one. She thought the restaurant across the street might have one, but she wasn't sure. I couldn't wait, though, and suddenly wished I were a man, and could take care of business in the alley. Instead, I climbed into the backseat of the car and tried to pee inconspicuously into the empty water bottle, only having a little success in actually collecting it. Still, a bit of the pressure was relieved (and I was relieved that the car didn't smell like pee--it was mostly water anyway), and I kept driving. Eventually, by some small miracle, I found a Wal-Mart and waddled inside to finish my business. Phew. I have never loved Wal-Mart more.

Back at the airport, my flight was delayed an hour and a half. And since I was there 3 hours early, that meant more time for me to sit and wait.

Once I finally got home to SLC, it was after midnight, and I made my way to the parking lot, where Jeff's 4Runner was waiting for me, the back door unlocked. I opened it, setting off the alarm, and quickly reached to the front and inserted the key, silencing the alarm. I threw my stuff in the back, shut the door, and went to get in. But all the doors were locked. I didn't know that Jeff's car locked the doors once the engine is running. I was locked out and it was after midnight. I called my mom, who was waiting for me to meet her in Orem, and she helped me find the phone number for the police. Eventually, an officer came out and helped me get the door unlocked. It was late when I made it home, but I made it. And on the drive, I couldn't help but laugh at all the bad luck I had had. What was even more interesting was that I never felt stressed out at all. And that was because I didn't have any kids with me.

It truly was an awesome vacation!

A Day at the Park

This gorgeous spring weather has allowed for many opportunities to play at the park. This is usually how it goes...

We arrive at the park sometime before lunch (anywhere from 10:30-12:00). I will park myself on the best bench I can find. Not necessarily the one closest to the playground, but the one with the best sun. The girls will both instantly proclaim that they are starving and will begin eating the peanut butter sandwiches I have made for them, heading off to the playground with their mouths full of peanut butter. Allie will usually eat all of hers without incident, but Kyla typically drops hers in the sand/mulch/ground up rubber tires at least two or three times before she brings the crusts back to me.

When the sandwiches are gone, both girls will ask to swing. Without fail, I will tell them that swinging is the last thing we are going to do, knowing full well that once they are situated in a swing, I will spend the rest of the park day pushing them. It could go on for hours. I shoo them away with a quick, "Go play!," and they reluctantly head back over to the playground. After 8.5 seconds, Allie is back, announcing that there is nothing fun to do and she sits on the bench next to me. Of course, I ignore her, and continue the conversation I am having on my cell phone. She will eventually get the message, realize that there are 18 slides and 37 other kid friendly toys that she has yet to try, and saunter back to the playground. Meanwhile, I end my fake phone call, and resume the ever important task of people watching, carefully noting just how the other moms at the park are disciplining their kids, telling myself that I would never give into my kids when they are throwing a fit. Which is why the tantrum that Allie is throwing because she can't do the monkey bars by herself will be ignored, because how else will she learn?

After a while, and a little more lunch, I will notice that one of the girls has wandered over to the swings and is looking longingly at the other kids, whose moms are nice enough to push them as soon as they ask. They will try the "belly trick," pretending that they are having fun riding Superman-style. Really, though, they are waiting for one of the "good moms" to offer to push them on the swing, too. I will pry myself from my seat gingerly, because I haven't moved much during the 30 minutes the kids have been playing, and walk over to the swings. Heaven forbid the other moms think that I am neglecting my children (despite the ignoring of the previous tantrum), and will distract the child at the swing by promising that in 5 minutes, after they have finished playing on the playground, I will, in fact, push them on the swing. Usually, this will buy me at least 10-15 more minutes, because thankfully, my girls have no concept of time.

When, at last, I am ready to go, I will announce happily that it is time to get in the swings. Both girls cheer, as though I am the BEST mom in the world, and I will push them for as long as my arms can stand. Usually 2 or 3 minutes. I will removed Kyla from her swing, and tell Allie she needs to find her shoes. She will search the entire playground, and be back in 5.2 seconds, announcing that her shoes are nowhere to be found, and have probably been stolen. I will, of course, check for myself, and will easily locate them under the playground, safe and sound. We will make our way to the van or stroller and go home. As soon as we walk in the house, the girls will announce again that they are starving and need something to eat.

Occasionally, though, things go a little differently. Today, for example, I was sitting on my bench, in full sunlight, actually talking on the phone. I could see Allie from where I was, playing near a statue with some other children, but she was a ways away, and I wasn't giving her my undivided attention. Suddenly, I see her being led toward me by a mom with her young child. The mom asked if Allie was my daughter. Then, she informed me that, "she (Allie) was the one stuck who has been screaming for about five minutes." Apologetically, I told her that I couldn't hear her screaming, and told her thank you for helping her (Allie) out. As she walked away, she gave me some great advice. Rudely, she said, "Maybe you should keep an eye on her."

Yep, it seems like I'm not the only one who watches the other moms and silently judges them. I'm going to try harder not to do that anymore. And we'll be frequenting other parks, where I haven't already earned a reputation as being one of the "bad moms."

THE house

I realize that I haven't said much about the house. I wanted to make sure everything was a go before I started getting all excited and braggy about it. While it's not 100% sure, we feel very confident that all the details will be worked out and we will be moving in shortly. Here's some background info: Jeff found the house on KSL, listed as a foreclosure owned by the bank. We knew it looked too nice for us, but the price was, surprisingly, within our range, so we went to take a look at it. We were there less than 24 hours after the family had been forced out (which still makes me sad to think about), and we instantly fell in love with it. It is all we wanted, and so much more!

Here was our list of things we really wanted:
1. 3 car garage, preferrably on the side of the house--CHECK
2. Office for Jeff, preferrably right off the entrance to the house--CHECK
3. Big family room with two-story ceilings--CHECK
4. Kitchen open to the family room, with the dining area off to the side--CHECK
5. Four bedrooms finished so we can stay in the house for a while without making a lot of changes--CHECK
6. Good size yard, not too big, not too small--CHECK
7. Closer to Jeff's office--CHECK (it is in south Orem, right on the Provo/Orem border)

As a bonus, we got things we hoped for, but didn't have our heart set on. A great view being one of them. I am still in a little bit of shock when I think that this is going to be our home. It's too big, it's too nice, and I feel like we don't deserve it. We were so lucky that we had the luxury to spend this past year looking, being picky, and figuring out what we really wanted in a home. We have been in so many homes this last year, and at times it was really frustrating, as I felt that we would never find what we were looking for. Now that it seems that we have, I am a huge mess of emotions. Mostly, though, I am two things--excited and overwhelmed. Excited because I get to live here, and overwhelmed because I have to try to keep it clean.

Happy Birthday Allie!

Man, pictures are taking FOREVER to load today. Amidst all the craziness with trying to secure THE house (which is another post for another day. It's looking good, though!), Allie turned four. She has been talking about this day for months, and planning the perfect party. It changed daily, of course, as did the guest list. Damon and Kyla have both been uninvited dozens of times, but since she really doesn't have any friends, of course they had to come.

I'm sure you are wondering what she chose to wear for her special day. It was this: a swimsuit and leggings, with a skirt thrown over the top to make me happy. She and Kyla are posing by a poster Maren made for the big day. I love how Kyla is trying to copy Allie.

In Allie's dream scenario, she was going to have a gymnastics party. And only those capable of doing complex gymnastics moves were going to be invited. Right away, she should have realized that she would have been excluding herself, but that thought never seemed to cross her mind. She was positive that her twin cousins, Matt and Miles (who are about 10) would be the perfect fit, and asked me several times whether or not they were coming (they ended up not being able to make it). In way of compromise, I talked her into an afternoon at Jumpin Jacks, where the guests could slide down blow up slides and jump around in bounce houses, thus pretending that they were actually doing gymnastics. She went for it.

We ended up with four cousins (David, Maren, Sam and Connor) and one neighbor girl (a 10 year old) and Damon and Allie as the guests. Allie had to wear this dress, her present from David and Maren, while we were there. Of course, it ripped along the neckline, where the silk meets the see through netting, and will not be worn again until I figure out how to mend it. But I think Allie would do wear it again at Jumpin Jacks, given the chance.

She also requested a gymnastics cake, which was a good idea in theory. But it didn't turn out so well. It stuck to the pan coming out, so it broke in places, making it difficult to frost. The gymnastics girl (who is upside down in a pose on the balance beam, if you can't tell) was free-handed by me, which is why it's so magnificent. I also ran out of frosting with a section the size of a dollar left, and had to smear the frosting on half of the cake to cover the bare spot. All in all, it made for a cake only a child could love (and believe me, she loved it). I guess that's all that matters.


We invited the neighbor kids over to make it seem like she actually had friends, and I think we fooled her. She claimed she had a great birthday. I don't know if something this simple will ever fly again, but it was great for this year.

I have thought a lot about this child of mine, and am SO grateful that her third year was better than her second year. It gives me hope for this year. While I was sitting at Jumpin Jacks, bored out of my mind because the kids were all playing together so nicely (DEFINITELY not complaining), I made a list of the things that best describe Allie. Here they are:

1. Her gold shoes. They were used when she got them, but they instantly became her favorite shoes ever. They are now ratty, and no longer the least bit attractive, but she loves them. Kyla even tries to claim them, saying, "MY goldies!"

2. Crack. It doesn't really matter what pants she is wearing, she almost always is showing crack. Maybe swimsuits aren't so bad.

3. Swimsuits, fancy dresses and princess costumes. Without these three items, she would have been naked most of the year.

4. Pasta. Allie loves any kind of pasta and red sauce. I have thought about serving spaghetti once a week, just to please her.

5. Barbies and princesses. She has just gotten into Barbie movies this year, and has started in with the classics (right now the favorite is Jasmine). It's fun to see her so into it.

6. Music. Allie has always been into music. She knows the artists of most popular songs, and can even identify who sings new songs. She has been known to lock her door and blast Disney songs, primary songs, Jim Brickman, and High School Musical, just to name a few. I'm glad she's branching out.

7. Pillow. Allie loves her pillow more than just about anything. She "wiggles" the corners of the pillowcase, and has ripped all the seams apart. If she ever needs comfort, she will instantly go lie down with her pillow.

8. Lip gloss. It was one of her rules. It has to be included.

9. Small books. She has a thing for books of unusual sizes. She takes a miniature Book of Mormon to bed with her. In the visitor's center at Canyon de Chelly, she asked if she could have a miniature book about birds. I don't think it matters what it is about, she likes any small book she can get her hands on.

10. Not a big dessert fan. I am convinced that she would chose a vitamin C over a piece of chocolate. She always thinks she likes treats, but rarely finishes any. Maybe I should take a lesson from her!

I sure do love Allie, and although we are very different people, I am so glad I get to be her mom. Remind me I said that in 10 years, because I know we are destined to do battle.

Welcome Home!

I have gotten behind with my blogging. Things have been busy (and Facebook has been beckoning). This is the first of the fun things we did this week. On Tuesday, my handsome brother returned from his mission to San Diego, CA. He flew into St. George, but as luck would have it, he had a two hour layover in SLC on his way. My aunt and her four kids wanted to go, and of course I wanted to go, so I grabbed Damon out of school and we made the hour drive up to SLC. Allie, in typical fashion, had only one thing to say when I told her about our trip. "What am I going to wear?" It was good to know she actually thinks of this stuff.

I love this pic of the three kids hanging out in the double stroller while we waited for our missionary.


It was so much fun to watch him walking toward us, and we waited patiently by security until he made it over to hug us. I may not have jumped up and down like my mom did (there's an awesome video clip on Facebook Eric posted of that welcome home), but I was excited inside. Here is the waiting party (minus my aunt and me, who were snapping pics).


The girls were nervous, but Damon immediately dropped down into the straddle splits the second Eric got close to us. We have been telling Damon for a while now that he is "Little Eric," and he wanted to prove the point right there in the airport. Allie and Kyla warmed up a little, but were never overly friendly. I love this one of Damon and Eric, though, and I hope Damon remembers this day forever.

Damon must have been planning his outfit out, too, because he wanted to wear this sweater over a polo with cargo shorts. I guess he thinks he looks nice.

Damon took this one of Eric and me, which is why we look a little "larger than life."

It was a great day, and I know he was welcomed again in St. George to a huge crowd. I am so proud of my brother for his service and am so glad he's home.