Time for a post, huh?

So, for starters, we now have a 10-month old. I'm not sure how that happened. I'm not anxious for him to grow up, but celebrating his birthday will mark the passing of winter, which I am always happy to see gone.

You can sort of tell from this picture above that Carter has top teeth. No bottom teeth, because he just doesn't see the need for those yet. But his two top teeth serve him well. I've never seen a kid able to eat more with two teeth than Carter can. He hardly ever chokes on anything, and has been known to demolish a cheese stick or a full piece of toast with no problems whatsoever. I believe he could probably handle a steak if we sent one his way. And he'd love every second of it.

If you are my friend on Facebook, you probably already saw this little clip. But I still enjoy watching it. Carter LOVES food. It doesn't matter what it is (I think it was nasty baby food in this clip), he gets so excited when he sees food. Downright giddy, in fact. I love it.



I was trying to get a better view of those top two teeth, and Kyla was more than willing to help me out. I'm thinking we have a future Ortho assistant on our hands here. She was a pro!

You can see here that Carter found someone's pizza and he proceeded to gum the whole thing down. He looks pretty dang pleased with himself.

His new trick this month is crawling all the way up the stairs. Usually someone is with him, but occasionally he gets up there by himself. He's pretty good not to fall, but has had a few tumbles. The one we like to remember went a little like this. BOOM, BOOM, "AHHH!" BOOM, BOOM, "WAAA!" The first scream was out of fear, the second out of pain. But Kyla will tell it just like the Black Eyed Peas, "Boom, Boom, Ahh! Boom, Boom, Ahh!" We'll try to limit his falls so as to prevent any possible brain damage.

Carter has also been sick this week. The winter has caught up with him and he has been wheezy and croupy all week, and I don't think it's going away anytime soon. Looks like he will probably have asthma when he's old enough to be diagnosed (5 or 6 I think). I told Jeff we shouldn't be surprised. We did name him after his Grandpa Trapnell, after all, a big time asthmatic.

Okay, for the rest of us...

Jeff went to Arizona last weekend to visit his friends (a Manstravaganza, it was called), and we had a movie night. How to Train Your Dragon. Good flick. Not much at all like the book, but I liked it. The kids liked watching from the air mattress and eating our cookies from Papa Murphy's (they got free cookie dough for signing up for a reading program. Sweet!)

You can see our tree hanging out in the corner. I really let them decorate it this year, and it shows. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

We also decorated our gingerbread house last night with our friends, the Farley's. Too bad we didn't get any pictures of them, it was a fun night. I learned a few things that will make gingerbread house making a little easier in the future:

1. Put the gingerbread houses together the day before and let them harden. I found this out in time and assembled them on Sunday.

2. When making the icing to hold the houses together, let it dry out a little bit. The house sticks together so much better.

3. When the walls collapse, as they tend to do, hot glue works great (my mom's trick!).

4. Use regular frosting to decorate with. Not only does it taste a lot better, it doesn't harden so fast and the decorating can continue for quite a while.

5. Make gingerbread cookies with the extra dough and let the kids decorate them. This prevented a LOT of fighting over decorating the house, and they didn't try to eat so many of the decorations.

We have the finished house sitting on a table in the piano room, and the kids know they aren't supposed to eat it until after Christmas. And the one wall that is held together with hot glue won't be eaten at all, if I can stop them. I'll keep an eye on it and see how much candy disappears before Christmas. Chances are Kyla won't be able to participate in the post-Christmas eating. She isn't the best when it comes to self control.

Phew, I think that's enough for now. December is busy!

Grateful

I never did get around to writing about everything I'm grateful for. I feel like I should. Here's the short list:

1. I'm grateful I didn't expect BYU to beat Utah this year. It makes the heartbreaking loss a little easier to handle.

2. I'm grateful that Jeff put a dvd player in our van last year, which makes it almost pleasant to travel to Las Vegas and back with 4 kids.

3. I'm grateful we got to spend Thanksgiving with some of my favorite people in the world--my whole family, minus Jonny, who is heating up in Argentina.

4. I'm grateful for weather forecasts (especially when they are right). We came home Saturday before the storm and woke up Sunday morning to 6 inches of snow in our front yard.

5. I'm grateful for Taylor Swift's new album that has gotten me through a lot of hours of cleaning.

6. I'm grateful for second trimesters. First and third trimesters are mise

rable, but second trimesters are nice.

7. I'm grateful to have two pair of non-maternity pants that fit me. Those, and the sweats I can wear, keep me from buying any more maternity clothes.

8. I'm grateful we have four more months before this baby comes. Along with having exactly ZERO names on the potential name list, I'm not even close to being ready.

9. I'm grateful that winter means we don't have to mow the lawn or pick weeds for at least four months.

10. I'm grateful for hard wood floors that hide dirt so well, and keep me from having to mop them daily.

And the REAL list, lest you think I am entirely superficial.

11. I'm grateful my mom is healthy this year. Life just wouldn't be the same without her. My kids adore her (Kyla prayed over breakfast one morning, "Bless I love Grandma Karen"), and I don't know what we'd do without her.

12. I'm grateful Jeff has a job he loves, and that we are able to live here close to family. I know we are really lucky.

13. I'm grateful for modern medicine. Without all the advances we have today, I doubt little (HUGE) Carter would be with us right now. He may not have survived birth, and he certainly wouldn't have survived RSV last winter.

14. I'm grateful to live in our dream house. It may be empty for years to

come, but I still drive around the corner and think, "wow. We live there. We're so lucky."

15. I'm grateful to be experiencing my life's journey with Jeff. We have had to really hang together as we have had more kids (lest they figure out how to divide us), and I feel like we are closer than ever.

16. I'm grateful for the opportunity to be a mom. I enjoy (most of) it so much, and know I'm so lucky to have such great (and crazy) kids to spend all my time with.

17. I'm grateful that my family is still hanging together. This has been a r

eal challenging year for the Esplin's, both publicly and privately. But I'm so grateful that we will always have each other, reminding each other that "in the end (we) want to be standing at the beginning" together.

18. And finally, I am grateful for my testimony of the Savior. It has grown tremendously this past year, as I have had many opportunities to get to know Him on a personal level. And I know that no matter what is thrown at us this year, or in years to come, we'll make it through, because of Him. I'll always be grateful for that.

Love Letters

I haven't said much this Thanksgiving about what I'm grateful for, but it sure has been on my mind. I have enjoyed reading all the daily posts about what you all are grateful for, and it has let me reflect on what is really important to me. Today I'm going to share one small thing I am thankful for. Not just in November, but all the time. And that is love letters

Jeff is not real big on love letters (although I do have a cherished few from our years together), so I found it quite thrilling when I found a love letter left on my pillow a few weeks ago.

Obviously, this one was from Allie. It says, " From Allie. I love mom. Der mom yro nice to me. Thanc yoo fr being nice to me. Luv Allie." I love kindergarten and the sudden fascination with literacy. I keep this in my drawer, as it is the first letter she has ever written to me. And sometimes it's nice to be reminded that I am loved and that, even better, she thinks I'm nice.

A few weeks later, these appeared on mine and Jeff's pillows:

These are from Damon. I know the second one is especially hard to read, but they say:
#1-to me: "I love you. You are a good mom. Thank you for paying the money for school. I love school. From Damon."
Comments-Typical Damon. He does love school. And I don't know why he thinks I pay for it, but still very sweet.
#2-to Jeff: "Thank you for paying for our house! I love you. Thank you for helping me with cub scouts. Cub scouts is a lot of fun. From Damon."
Comments-Apparently Damon thinks a lot about money. I'm a little surprised that both notes were about paying for things, but it was very sweet. I love the part about Cub Scouts. I already mentioned once how much Damon loves scouts. I thought it was so thoughtful that he realized how much Jeff helps him.

Again, priceless treasures.

Last, the younger two don't exactly write me love letters. But I keep this picture in my bathroom because I think it's so cute.

$.25 never went so far. Kyla's joy and Carter's disinterest sum them up perfectly. And are some of the reasons why I love them.

Straight from an Episode of Friends

A few days ago one of our smoke detectors started beeping and calling out "low battery." And we couldn't figure out which one it was for a couple of reasons:

1. Our house echoes like a cathedral due to the vast amount of hardwood and scant amount of furniture/decor it contains, making it beyond difficult to locate the source of the beeping.

2. It only beeped intermittently, about every 5 minutes or so, and would go hours at a time without beeping at all. We often just ignored it.

But after a few days, we decided it was time to solve the mystery and put the annoyance behind us. So we actively searched the house. And we took turns standing beneath the various detectors in the house, waiting for one to beep. Still, we couldn't find it. Wherever we stood in the house, the sound came from somewhere else. When we were upstairs, it sounded like it was downstairs, and when it was downstairs...you get the idea.

It was maddening. I wanted to disable the blasted thing, if only I could find it! But that didn't work very well for Phoebe Buffay, and I knew it wouldn't work for us. So, after a process of elimination, we decided it must be the smoke detector in Jeff's office, as it had a light that periodically flashed red, and Jeff got the ladder. We changed the battery, and hoped that the mystery was solved.

It wasn't. The beeping continued throughout the night, but abruptly stopped yesterday morning. All day long, I heard not one beep. I thought maybe it just took a while for the detector to reset and we had figured it out after all. Then it started beeping again last night, and continued throughout the day today. I offered the kids $5 if they could locate the offensive detector, sure it was sealed inside a wall somewhere in the house. But the kids came through. Tonight they were checking my tomatoes in the basement, and came up panicked. They had heard the "low battery" voice clearer than ever. Was there a smoke detector in the unfinished basement? Jeff and I had checked most of the rooms, but had failed to check them all.

For there, indeed, was the offensive detector. As soon as Jeff got home from the BYU game, we all went down and changed the battery together. At this point, we were all heavily involved. And when the beeping was at last silenced, there was much rejoicing. Allie and Damon were bragging about the $5 they get to split, and Jeff and I were thinking that $5 was a bargain for a little peace and quiet! Well, peace and quiet when everyone is sleeping, anyway. Peace and quiet during the daylight hours is still nothing but a dream.

More Feelings

I apologize if this post comes out a little disjointed. I feel a little disjointed when I think about all that I want to record for the future. First of all, thank you for your comments after my last venting session. It's always nice to know there are others out there who feel the same way I do, and I love blogging because it is a great way to encourage each other in our times of discouragement.

That being said, I must also admit that, for the first time in my life, am a bit envious of the gestational period of an elephant (close to two years). As we enter the busiest time of the year, I'm kind of wishing I could carry this baby until next spring. Of course, I would only want to agree to that if I knew I wouldn't have to deal with the uncomfortable third trimester for an entire year. Otherwise, that deal is off.

I also have been wishing time would slow down so I could enjoy the baby I already have. Carter is growing up way too fast. He is nine months old (nine and half, actually) and he is a busy, busy boy!

I haven't really compared him to other babies his age until this past Sunday, when I noticed a huge difference between his activity level and the activity level of a little girl just older than him. She crawled and walked around, exploring, but Carter was like a man possessed. He was all over the place, exploring everything, but getting bored quickly and moving on.

Since I realized how active he is, I have noticed it in other places as well. He can't hold still to drink his bottle and I thank my lucky stars every day that I'm not still nursing this octopus. I have to feed him in short shifts, because he gets distracted and has to do something else for several minutes before coming back to his bottle. And forget about him holding his own bottle. He will still only do this, flat on his back, for 1-2 minutes at a time before taking off to find something more worthy of his time and attention.

I have tried to use these feeding times to enjoy him as a baby. I look into his big eyes and rub his head, while he grabs my hand, and I can't help but feel a little sad that he won't get to be my baby for long. I have been in a dang rush for him to grow up, because I'm afraid of what it will be like to care for two babies, but I think I may need to just relax and let him take things at his own pace. He's growing up plenty without my encouragement.

(Take a look at Torso Man! His legs are short and stubby and he's pretty much all torso)

His appetite has returned full force and if he has finished his bottles, I usually let him eat whatever he likes. He prefers anything he can shove in his mouth. I think it was grape slices this day. He does this funny thing where he sucks in air, sort of like a panting dog, when he wants more food. And when people laugh, because it really is quite hilarious, he looks at them like they have some kind of problem. Doesn't everyone react with extreme excitement when they see food?

My kids all love to carry him around, which he cannot stand. He wants to be left alone to his devious ways, and doesn't appreciate Allie, and especially not Kyla, trying to carry him around the house. That doesn't stop them from trying, though. Allie asks me almost daily if she can hold him. I always let her try, but it always ends the same way: with Carter screaming and crawling off her lap. I hope she realizes it isn't personal. He just loves his mama and he loves his freedom.

We took the kids to the Gingerbread Festival on Friday, and found that the best way to carry Carter, without suffering severe arm cramps, is to put him in the backpack. He still loves it. And I love having Jeff with us so I'm not the one that has to tote him.


I love how Jeff is trying to stay out of the shot. Too bad, sometimes you have to show up on the blog to prove that you do exist and I'm not creating these children myself.

This was my favorite creation:

And because the artist was standing right next to us, gauging our reaction, I made sure to make a big deal of it and take a few extra pictures. It is pretty amazing.

Here's a quick update on Kyla: she has toned it down quite a bit with her "kill" and "death" lately. She still slips in a few comments here and there, but it seems like the extreme fascination has ended for now. I hope for good. She and Allie are both at the stage where they want to "be" someone else. Any show they watch, any game they play, even any magazine they look at, they are picking which person they want to be. Kyla will say, "I'm she and you're she" repeatedly each day. And her mixing up the pronouns drives me a little crazy, but not as crazy as the fighting that ensues over who gets to be Taylor Swift and who is Carrie Underwood. Seriously? Damon never did this. What is it with the girls?

Kyla has also had a hard time adjusting to Daylight Savings Time ending. She has still been waking up early and waking everyone else up, too. I had to put a clock in her room, with only the first digit showing, and she isn't allowed to get up or wake anyone else up until the number says 7. It seems to be working a little better, although she still wakes up when it is 6:00 from time to time. I'll give it another week before I write my strongly worded letter to the president about how destructive DST is to my life. Maybe things will work out. And I'm sure President Obama has a few other things he is dealing with.

Mostly, though, I just feel lucky. I know so many ladies who have a hard time getting pregnant or those haven't been as fortunate and haven't found their perfect match yet. So who am I to complain because I have been blessed with the opportunity to bring beautiful children into the world, and raise them with my very best friend? When I think of it that way, I feel sheepish that I ever had reason to complain. Those four sitting on the couch are my world. And as terrified as I am about helping them reach adulthood, I know I am so lucky to be their mom. They help me grow more than they'll ever know until they are parents themselves.

Do it all

When I was a kid, I had a very high opinion of myself. Truly, I believed I could do anything and be good at everything. I swallowed the line "you can be anything you want to be" like a hungry fish swallowing one of Jeff's fancy lures--without hesitation or second thought.

And it was a bit of a rude awakening as I got older and realized that a lot of people can do things I can't do. And a lot of people can do the same things I CAN do, only they can do it better. It was hard for me to accept that not everyone was going to like me, and certainly not everyone was going to think I was all that great. A brutal life lesson.

As an adult, I still think I harbor a little of that belief that I can do anything, and I can do it well. I watch design shows on tv and think, I could do that, when the reality is I could NEVER do that. And sometimes I get myself in trouble when I try to do things that seem so easy, yet turn out to be much more difficult.

The perfect example was at the beginning of the summer when the kids wanted to start riding their bikes. Because of all the thorns that litter our neighborhood, there wasn't a working tire on any of their bikes and I decided to remedy that. I could have waited for Jeff to get home from work and do things the right way, but there were those hours after school when the kids could be riding and I could be sitting on the couch enjoying a glass of lemonade the way you can only when there are no children in the house. So I went to the store, bought new tubes for the bikes, as well as the green globby stuff that claims to fix holes in tires, and went at it. I followed the directions, making sure to keep myself in a well-ventilated area, as I was (as always) pregnant and not anxious to expose my tender fetus to harmful chemicals. All was going smoothly, until it was time to put the tubes back on the bikes. That is where I ran into problems. And in trying to "fix" the broken bikes, I actually compounded the problem. The screwdriver I was using to try to pry the tires back into place punctured my new tubes, and no green globby stuff can seal holes the size of pennies.

Jeff rolled his eyes when he got home, and told me, in effect, that I need to stop doing things I can't actually do and let him handle it. Apparently, I never fully accepted the fact that I can't do everything. Brutal lesson repeated.

I kept all this in mind last week when I decided I needed to use the 101 tomatoes we have ripening in our basement, the remnants of our mildly successful garden this year, and can salsa. But instead of asking someone with any experience for help, I was confident that I could manage. I mean, I had spent several minutes researching on the internet. How hard could it be?

Contrary to where you think this story is headed, things actually went very well. Maybe that's because canning really isn't as scary as it seems, and maybe everyone can do it without problem. But with the help of good-looking assistants like this one... (his job was to clean anything that fell on the floor. He's good at this job)

...I was able to take the tomatoes from this stage...(tomatoes all peeled after a quick bath in boiling water and a soak in ice water)

...to this without much difficulty at all.

The hard part was just the amount of work it took to can 8 pints of salsa. But the results were well worth it and I'm sure I will be repeating this process soon with the other 101 tomatoes still ripening in the basement.

It's probably experiences like these that keep me from learning the brutal lessons, and keep me trying things that I may or may not be successful doing. These small successes fuel the fire, and keep me believing that I CAN do anything I set my mind to...

...and then there is the rest of the time. The last week or so has been a major reality check for me, and probably not for the better. We have been dealing with one sickness after another (nothing major, just alternating stomach viruses with cold viruses) and no one has been 100% in our home. It's amazing how much a little sickness (multiplied by 4 or 5) can really add to the normal stress I experience all the time. Add to that the two incidents this week where I failed to do something I had committed to, thus letting down people I really care about, and I have really started feeling discouraged.

I mean, I have been able to convince myself that I'll be able to handle 5 kids, two of which will be, essentially, still babies. But after this week, I have been having serious doubts. I have started really noticing all the things I just can't seem to do--I can't keep up with the messes, I don't have the energy to do everything I want to do with the kids, and yet I'm supposed to believe that I'll be able to do it when we have one more? I don't see how.

Deep down, I know that everything is going to be alright. Things will work out. The people I have let down will forgive me and we'll move on. The kids are going to get what they need and the messes will, eventually, get cleaned up. But in the short term, it's hard not to feel discouraged. I am wishing I was more like my 10-year old self, because I'm pretty sure she would still feel like she can do it. She felt like she could do anything.

Halloween

Are you sick of reading about everyone's Halloween yet? Here's a quick recap of ours:

We carved pumpkins...

We had a Sumo Wrestler...

...a Hannah Montana...

...a Cinderella...

...and a pumpkin.

We had trick-or-treating in the pouring rain (hail at times), enjoyed a fabulous chili dinner at Jeff's sister's, complete with our homemade root beer, and more candy than any family needs.

Jeff and I were both feeling sick on Sunday morning, so we told Damon to watch the kids so we could sleep in a little longer. We woke up to find that they had fed themselves breakfast: root beer and candy. Ah to be young and have no parental supervision...

Shocker?

You came here expecting Halloween pictures, right? Well, I'll get to that. But I'm finally ready to write another post.

After I had Carter, Jeff told me he was ready to be done having kids. He said four kids was more than enough for him, and he didn't feel the need to have any more. For the first time, I thought and prayed long and hard about whether or not our family was complete, and I just wasn't convinced. Even when bribed with things like a boob job and a new car if I wouldn't have any more kids (he was kidding. I think.), I just felt like there was one more waiting to come to our family. But not any time soon.

Here are some of the reasons why I felt like we should have one more kid:
1. I have always wanted a little blondie, and our kids seem to get lighter and lighter each time. Maybe #5 would be a towhead.
2. Carter needs a buddy. While Kyla loves and adores him to the point of smothering, she will always want to be doing what Allie is doing. And brother or sister, I would love Carter to have a friend close in age.
3. While I have had my fair share of experiences with pregnancy, I'm sure there are a few things I haven't yet to experience. I would like to give myself every opportunity available to me. Perhaps a C-section would be fun.
4. We have 7 seats in the van. Someone needs to fill that last seat.
5. With two boys and two girls (on earth, that is), we need someone to break the tie, thus giving either Jeff or I the majority when votes are cast.

With the exception of #2, this list is a complete joke, and my decision that I wanted one more baby was in no way based on any of these factors. It was just a general feeling that our family wasn't yet complete.

Jeff wasn't too hard to convince. He just wanted to do it sooner rather than later. He has always had the number 35 in his head as the age HE wanted to be done having kids. And he just turned 34. So his biological clock was apparently ticking.

And so I agreed to go off birth control, just to let my body adjust and get regular again. I was confident that it would be at least six months before we were able to get pregnant (based on past experience--after Chance and after my ectopic pregnancy it took at least 6 months of trying to get pregnant again. My body typically needs a little bit of time to recover).

I'm sure you know what's coming next. But I was shocked to find out that the very first month of FAILING TO PREVENT (not TRYING), I got pregnant. And began the difficult task of living in denial while wanting to puke my guts out all the live long day.

I don't know why, but I didn't want anyone to know (other than my brother and my next door neighbor--a girl needs a few confidants when scheduling doctor's appointments). And so we didn't tell anyone. I thought maybe after the first trimester, I would feel like it. But I really didn't. And so we didn't. It wasn't until a few weeks ago, when it became much harder to conceal physically, did I break the news to my family. But not to my friends via the Blogger world. I did write a couple of posts that I saved as drafts, just for my own record, which I will now publish. If you care to, you can read them HERE and HERE.

Today, though, I decided (as did my sister, who is also a private blogger) it was time to share. I had my 20 week ultrasound today. And it's a little hard to live in denial when you actually see what has been causing the nausea, the weight gain, the heartburn (already?) and the physical pain for the last 4 months. And now that I have passed from denial to acceptance, I can tell you that I'm equal parts excited and terrified.

But ready or not, by March 23rd we are going to be a family of 7 (plus one angel). The big question, is it a boy or girl, will be answered then. Because I was strong and brave and didn't look when I had the choice to find out today.

Oh, and I am definitely feeling like this is it for us. Everyone told me I would just know when it was time. And I think this is it. Maybe that's why I didn't want everyone to know just yet. I wanted to keep it to myself, selfishly, for just a little while.

Damon Jeffrey

This morning I was lying in bed in the darkness, listening to Damon breathe rather loudly. He was "doing time" in a dark corner of our bedroom for locking the girls in their room. (As a side note, I have had to switch some door handles around so that 1) I can lock Kyla in her room at night, and 2) I can lock the pantry and keep the kids from constantly snacking). For some reason, this morning I just started thinking about my oldest son and was just filled with an overwhelming love for him. I always thought I wanted a girl first, so she could help take care of the rest of the kids, but I am confident that we couldn't have a better first child than Damon.

I don't always give him the credit he deserves. As the oldest, I expect a lot of out of him, and I feel like I am always reminding him of the things he needs to do (make his bed, practice his piano, do his homework, brush his teeth, etc) instead of focusing on all the things he does that make my life easier. The perfect example was Sunday morning. Jeff is gone Sunday mornings to meetings at 7:30, so he isn't around to help us get ready for 9:00 church. And it's usually a struggle to get everyone looking good and out of the house by 8:55. Carter has been especially needy and wants to be held. But because I can't hold him, he sits on the floor and cries his big alligator tears while I hastily curl the girls' hair or brush my own teeth. Damon has always been really good about getting himself ready in the morning, and this week he was ready to go at 8:30. That's when I put him to work. He spent the next 20-25 minutes tending Carter, getting anything and everything I asked, and overall making sure we made it to church on time. I was sitting in sacrament meeting and I realized how we wouldn't have made it without him. He was exactly what I needed. And I made sure to tell him how much I appreciated all his help.

Those same feelings I had on Sunday came back this morning as I was listening to him sit in the darkness, taking his punishment without complaint. While there are things he does that drive me absolutely crazy, Damon is really good about doing what he is supposed to do. He rarely complains when I remind him about his homework or his piano, but just does what I ask. There may be times when he wants to discuss WHY he has to do something, but never over the things he knows are expected of him.

This year he is in a tough class at school. He got into an accelerated program, and it's been very demanding. Every week he has to learn 20 spelling words, and every Monday he knows maybe 5 of them. Yet by the end of the week, he almost always knows them all (here are some of his words this week, as an example: cooperation, defensive, century...hard words like that). He has to memorize a poem every month and pass it off for his teacher. He has math homework every night, and he has to explain HOW he came up with the answers. Yet with all that is expected of him, I have never heard him complain about how hard it is. He just accepts it and does his best. I know it doesn't always come easy to him (especially when it comes to writing), but he works hard. And I'm so proud of his positive attitude. I know that bodes well for his future success.

And it seems like he is growing up so fast. In some ways he is still that little, sweet boy he has always been. But in other ways, he is changing so fast. He started Cub Scouts and he thinks it is the greatest thing in the world. If I tell him at 4:30 that he has pack meeting at 6:30, he will immediately change into his uniform and talk excitedly about it for the rest of the afternoon.

He has a funny habit of running his hand through his hair (he has always loved hair), and so his hair is always sticking up in the front. It makes me laugh.

Last night we were carving pumpkins and Damon disappeared for a while. He came running down the stairs, a little out of breath, and said, "I did something bad and I'm going to be in big trouble!" After a bit of coaxing, he admitted that he was trying to light a candle to put in his pumpkin and had accidentally burned his thumb. Oh, and he hid the used matches under his dresser. Of course we had quite the talk about playing with matches and how lucky he was that something worse didn't happen, but I couldn't help but applaud his courage to tell the truth. It was evident (by the hidden matches) that he thought about not telling us what happened. But in the end, he did what he knew was right.

And I hope that he will always do what is right. And always work hard. And always help me get to church on time.

A couple weeks worth

My pictures loaded in reverse order, so I guess that is how I will recap the last couple weeks. While I was on my girls' get-away, Jeff had a birthday. And as much as he tried to tell me he didn't care if we ignored it completely, I still felt bad. So while he was on his little boys' get-away, the kids and I did a little something for his birthday. It really wasn't much, but the kids had a great time decorating and I made him a peach pie, which turned out pretty well. I'm not up to my mom's standards when it comes to pie making, but who is, really?

Damon did all this decorating himself. I thought it was great. Jeff wasn't thrilled with his interior decorating skills.

This one is a little blurry, and I'm not sure why.

Kyla pulling a little attitude and refusing to turn around for this picture. Notice Carter's new trick of pulling himself up on the stairs. And the fact that he has a pen and pencil in his mouth. I'm still counting on the fact that he needs his hands to balance and won't be able to get them close to his mouth (or eyes or ears for that matter) while he is perched on the stairs.


As mentioned above, I got to go on a little get-away with my mom and sister last week. It was originally going to be a larger group of 6 of us, but at the last minute, it ended up just being the 3 of us. We went to Boston. Everyone asked why Boston and we didn't have a great reason. We just wanted to go there, and it was convenient when flying JetBlue (which we were doing--my sister and I on buddy passes and my mom for free since my brother works for them). Plus who doesn't love Boston? It is such an awesome city.

I didn't take a lot of pictures and will have to steal more from my mom and sis, but here is a quick rundown of what we did while there:

We took a tour of Harvard, given by some students. Highly entertaining and beautiful campus. I had no idea it was so small (only 6,000 undergrads and 12,000 graduates). Truly elite.

The John Harvard statue, which is not John Harvard. It also says he was the founder, which isn't true, he was a benefactor. And the date on the statue is off by two years. Hence, it is called the Statue of Three Lies. Also, we chose not to rub the toe of the statue (you can see his left toe is a little more gold then the rest) after the tour guides told us that some of the students like to use "the John" in this location. Hahaha, very funny. But disgusting.

One of the gorgeous buildings on campus. The freshman eat here.

We ate at the BEST seafood restaurant near Harvard called Legal Sea Foods. It is a chain started in New England, and we had heard nothing but good things about it. It may have been the highlight of the trip, it was that good. The Clam Chowder, Lobster Bisque, Mushroom Ravioli, and especially the Boston Creme Pies. Everything was fantastic, and we even got to order off the lunch menu, even though it was after 4:00, when lunch had supposedly ended. Someone has pictures of the food. I must see them again. I am tempted to order a couple creme pies online. Maybe for Christmas...

Day two we spent on the Freedom Trail. I don't have many pics from this day, but it was a lot of fun. We walked about 3 miles seeing sights and enjoying the crisp fall weather. We ended at the USS Constitution, nicknamed "Old Ironsides." It was a ship in the war of 1812 that never lost a battle. Now it is a tourist location with awesome views of the city.

Here are my sister and I aboard the ship.

And here we are at some cool place along the way. This would be a fun place to do a photo shoot, no?

Then we rented a car and gave ourselves a "Fall Foliage" tour along Route 20 to Sudsbury. It was beautiful and so fun to get out of the city for a few hours.

We made it back to Belmont (a suburb) in time for dinner and the last temple session of the evening. It was a really fun day and so nice to be in the temple with these two.

I took a couple pics on the subway for fun. My mom would get out her crochet every time she had a few moments. I thought it was funny. Is the man next to her watching what she's doing?

And this one was outside the last car we rode on Day 2. My favorite part is the man in the leather jacket smiling for the pic. Nicely done, local Boston man.

I had a bit of trouble getting on my flight the next morning, as flying standby is not always what it is cracked up to be. And instead of taking the night flight to Vegas and taking shuttles home, I ended up buying a seat on US Airways right into SLC. It may have cost $40-$50 more, but at that point, we were all ready to be done with the stress of standby (Heather and my mom made their flights fine, but Heather had to spend the night in the airport).

Overall, it was a great trip. We didn't get to sleep in nearly as much as I would like, considering the time change and the lack of sleep flying all night to get there, but it was awesome. I'm definitely looking forward to doing it again. Just not flying standby.

Here are a couple more pics I got off the camera today. My freshman roomie, Tiffanie, came to visit for FHE and we decorated cookies. I only took pictures of the kids, though. That was dumb. But they had a good time.

Whirlwind summary, it deserves so much more. But at least it's documented. Perhaps I'll write more when I get more pics from the other two.

Eight Months and After Shots

Carter is now eight months old, and it seems like he is experiencing a burst of development. Besides the new trick of learning to crawl, he also impressed us last week by showing us that he is not only good at tapping, but also at clapping. We all think it's the cutest thing in the world.

At eight months, Carter still refuses to hold his bottle. He will hold it for a minute or two, but always drops it and rolls over (or sits up) and then starts crying. He really wants to be babied. Every day I make him try, and he is getting a little better, but every day I end up holding it for him so he'll eat. He would much rather eat anything rather than drink a bottle (including paper, toys, any sort of food or dirt), and I have to force him to get his ounces in every day. Strange, because he's such a big boy, you'd think he'd want all those calories, but he doesn't particularly care about them.

He is in 12-18 month clothes. The pants are a little long, but not horrible.

He also thinks it's funny when I wipe his behind (or maybe it's ticklish). I have never had a baby giggle when I wipe them, so it always makes me giggle, too, but I love it.

He started babbling this month, mostly favoring the "dada" sounds, but occasionally throwing out a "baba" or a "mama" when he's tired. He also learned to make a clicking sound, which he prefers over all other sounds. Future horse trainer, perhaps?

He got sick last week, with a fever for a few days, and had decreased appetite, increased sleepiness and overall more irritability. After the fever was gone, he got a rash on his chest and back that lasted for a day. He seems to be feeling better now, although he still is a little sleepier than normal (which means 3-4 hour nap in the afternoon) and generally he is grouchier than before. What is your diagnosis? I'll post what I think it was at the bottom.

Carter loves his binky, but I usually only give it to him when he's going to bed. This week has been different, though, because he's been so sad. I have let him have it a lot more. He likes to chew on it (teething probably, since he has no teeth still--well, one of his top teeth is exposed, but that is due to gum recession), and has no problem getting it in and out.

He also loves when I put my hand over his mouth and help him create the "babababa" sound. He has started doing it himself with his own hand, but usually ends up tapping his cheek or his ear, and it doesn't quite work out like he plans.

We are all still crazy about this boy, high maintenance though he may be. And as long as we can keep Kyla happy, and not hitting him with a broom, life is good.

Finally, here are the "After" shots of Kyla. About half-way through her haircut, she got really sad, and said, "I don't like haircuts." I think the reality was finally sinking in, and she won't be having a ponytail anytime soon. I think she looks cute, though. Once those bangs (the ones she cut herself) are long enough to stay out of her face, that is.

And here's my shot. Try to look at the hair and not the crazy face. I'm not a big fan (of the face--the hair is fine).

It's just a phase, right?

This little love of mine (Kyla) used to be my favorite. She used to be so sweet and happy and fun. I used to feel guilty that I liked her more than the other kids. But times have changed. Kyla has changed. And I am praying it is just a phase that she will grow out of soon!

While she still has moments of sweetness and times of happiness that remind me of the way things were, they are becoming fewer and farther between. This independent three year old has become so sassy and manipulative, it makes me crazy.

For example: If she asks me to do something (say, make her a piece of toast 30 minutes after breakfast has ended), and I refuse, she responds by throwing out as many verbal threats as her little mind can come up with. "If you don't make me some toast, I'm not going to eat today." "Make me some toast now, or I will throw a library book in the trash." "If you don't do it, I'm going to kick you in the face." These types of threats will continue until she finds something that reaches its mark. Usually it will be something like, "If you don't do it, I'm going to hurt Carter." She knows that will draw a reaction from me (because as evidenced by the time last week she hit him with a broom, she isn't joking).

If her threats fall on deaf ears, she will go into Jeff's office and get a push pin from the desk. Then she will come out and offer up physical threats. "If you don't make me toast, I will poke you with this pin." Then she will stab me with it until I take it away, haul her uncooperative behind to timeout, and cry for the next 3 minutes about how she doesn't like me anymore and she doesn't want to be my best friend. Oh, and that she wants her daddy.

She also can't seem to learn from her mistakes. The one she is consistently making right now is coloring and drawing on things that are not paper. Jeff and I decided a while back that we weren't going to spank the kids anymore. Not that it happened all that often, but occasionally we felt we needed to. The one exception is for repeat bad behavior. Kyla knows that if she draws on the couch, or the wall, or her sheets, or her shorts, she is going to get a spanking. And every time, I explain to her that we don't want to spank her. We don't like it. But we hope that she will remember the next time she feels like drawing to get a piece of paper and to show a little bit of restraint when it comes to everything else. So far, the message isn't getting through. Yesterday, she drew on the tv with crayon. Which scratched the tv. Again. Jeff wasn't happy. When informed that she was going to be spanked yet again, she begged for some "vigganer" instead (her punishment when she talks about killing with a sharp knife), but didn't get her wish. She also is grounded from any writing instrument until further notice, but since when has that stopped her?

For the most part, I am calm when she behaves this way. I understand that she is testing her limits and trying to figure out what is and isn't acceptable. But sometimes I lose it. Yesterday she was mad at me because I told her she couldn't take her fully assembled puzzle in the car to pick up the kids from school. She threw out a few verbal threats about how she didn't like me and wasn't going to come with me to get the kids. Then, she promptly marched upstairs to the room where Carter was sleeping, turned on the light, and locked the door behind her. We were already running late, and when she refused to open the door, I banged on it, yelling at her. I just snapped. And I may have given her a little swat once she opened the door and ran out. Dang it. There went my good intentions not to give her an emotional reaction to her behavior. I guess I'll have to try again.

It's just hard right now. And while I'm praying it's a phase she'll grow out of, I also look at it as an opportunity for me to grow. Because apparently I need some growth myself.

One more story about Kyla that really made me laugh. This one was on Facebook a couple days ago. Kyla was playing with a pirate and Cinderella, having them talk to one another. The pirate told Cinderella, "I'm going to kill you!" (I really don't know why she is so violent. It's a complete mystery to me). I told her that I didn't like her talking like that, so instead, she had the pirate say, "I'm going to make you dead." Hahaha. Maybe a little more gentle, but still completely beside the point.

cabin

A few weeks ago we went with our neighbors to their family cabin for the weekend. I took my camera with the intention to take a lot of great pictures, but we were having too much fun to remember and I only ended up with a few. We rode 4-wheelers, fished, ate, played games, fed local wildlife and enjoyed being away from home. My kids are asking when we can go back. We'd better be nice, and hope that we get invited back some day! Thanks Sumners!

I did find a picture of all the kiddies. Just no Jeff in these. I'm sure he's broken up. These are from our fishing experience. We told the kids that unless someone caught a fish, we weren't going to be eating dinner. Fortunately, we did have success and we could all breathe easily (and no, we didn't eat those tiny things. It was just part of the game).


And here's the other two riding the 4 wheelers. Man, Damon was in heaven.