One of each, in no particular order

Allie thought she'd like to try on a swimsuit I bought on clearance from Target (I'm taking it back because it is WAY too low cut). It looks pretty good on her, even though, as Damon observed, she has no breasts.

I get told all the time that Damon is so smart. While I don't entirely disagree with that statement, I also know that he is no genius. To prove it, he took the gum he was chewing, which he only gets to chew in the car, and wrapped it around his head like a crown. I turned back to look at him when he started crying, frantically trying to pull it out. We ended up having to cut it out, revealing a "bald spot," as I refer to it.

Apparently, Kyla was in need of a quick stroll, so Damon put her in Allie's doll stroller and wheeled her to the bathroom, where I was sitting with Allie. Luckily she doesn't weigh more than than she does and the $7 stroller was able to support her. He did promise he wouldn't do that any more.

Damon's World

Damon has been bugging me to let him take pictures with our camera for weeks now. Not willing to trust him with our Canon, I found our old digital camera and let him "practice" with it. He actually got some cute pictures until it got dropped, and now all the pictures he takes have weird lines on them, proving my point that he wasn't old enough to use our good camera. All of these are pictures that he took (before "the fall"). I like to think of them as the world through Damon's eyes. Here is Allie taking advantage of Damon's attention being elsewhere and playing with his blocks and cars.

Kyla and me.

Here is a picture of Kyla and me on the computer, a common place he would find us.

As you can see, she loves blogging as much as I do. Also, do you get the feeling that Damon's world consists of his mom and his little sister? You would be correct.

And here is a picture of how I have been spending many hours these past few days, reading Harry Potter.

I just finished last night and I am still panting and gasping for breath (I'm not going to give anything away, so if you haven't read it yet, but are planning to, there WON'T be any spoilers here). I haven't bought any of the others in hardback, and even though I was sorely tempted to buy this one, I withheld. I borrowed this one from a friend after she sped through it in two days. I had just finished rereading #6 so I would be ready for this one, and just in the nick of time, it turns out. I tried hard to read it slowly, and to savor every little bit, but when things got exciting the last 200 pages or so I had to neglect my family and dive right into JK Rowling's world (to be fair, Damon and Allie were in bed, so it was just Jeff and Kyla I neglected).

It was everything I hoped it would be. I laughed, I cried, I predicted some things correctly, I was terribly wrong on others, and I enjoyed it more than I even thought I could. When I was finished I had an overwhelming feeling of love for my kids (a little strange, as I'm sure JK Rowling never intended that to be a response to reading it) and I had to give them all a little squeeze. I am sure I dreamt about it, but when I woke up, I was a little bit sad that it was all over. I want to go back and read some parts again. And someday I will read them all to Damon (provided he gets over his fear of anything remotely scary), and hope he will make them a part of his world, too.

Some Pics

I was looking through my pictures, trying to figure out what I wanted to post today, and decided to just post a few of my favorites from the past month. Here is Allie, looking very dirty. I can't for the life of me remember how she got this way, but that isn't too unusual, because she is dirty most of her life. She also loves to change her clothes and has been trying to do this for some time by herself. Most recently, we went swimming on Wednesday and Jeff left his wet swimsuit and underwear on the tub in our bathroom. How could I keep from laughing when Allie came out with his wet underwear on her head?

This one is Damon's five year old shot. I have been taking a picture of him wearing Jeff's Sunday shirt every year on his birthday since he was two. The idea is that over the years you will be able to see him grow into it (as long as Jeff doesn't get any bigger and have to get bigger shirts!). This year he wanted to wear the shoes, too.

Damon also finished swim lessons last Friday and we now have one more swimmer in the house! He did great and even swam across the pool without grabbing onto Jeff. As is typically the case with Damon, he just needed to realize he could do it and he took off.

I laughed when I saw this picture.These are the kids in his swim class getting ready to jump in to their teacher. As you can see, Damon is looking at the little boy's crack in front of him. I can only imagine what is going through his mind, because Damon told me that the same, lowriding little boy pooped in the water at one of the lessons (unbeknownst to the teacher, of course). Maybe he's checking to be sure there isn't anything down there on that particular day.

Here is the best picture I could get of my jellyfish sting. This was probably 4 or 5 days later, so all the swelling had gone down. It's still there today, a week later, although it does seem to be getting lighter.

And here's yet another picture of Kyla. The look on her face seems to say, "Are you really putting me in this carseat again?" You can't really tell, but she is wearing a skirt. Jeff told me, "Put a headband in her hair so she doesn't look like a boy in a skirt." I did. Heaven forbid anyone think we are dressing up our son in girl clothes! Grudgingly, though, I do admit that she looks like a boy. She just needs some more hair.

Two Months

As Heather observed, the most asked question when you are pregnant is "Is it a boy or a girl?," followed by "Have you picked out any names?" After the baby is born, though, there is one question that is asked more than any other. And that is "Who does she look like?"

Jeff had barely finished cutting Kyla's cord and the nurses were still wiping her with warm towels, yet my mom and I were gazing expectantly at her, wondering who she looked like. "She's got Allie's nose," my mom said, "and Damon's chin. But where did she get that fair skin?" Of course, in a matter of minutes, her skin was no longer so pale and in fact, she didn't look all that much like the baby I remembered holding before. Now she is two months old, and only slightly resembles the baby we brought home from the hospital.

Here is the two month photo of her and Bexley. You can tell that she is getting bigger, and you can also tell that Bexley is in serious need of a trip to the washing machine. All the medicine Allie has rubbed on her has left its mark.

And the post wouldn't be complete without a picture of her huge grin. She may not be the most photogenic child you ever saw, but can you really help but smile when you see something like this?

And one minute later she wasn't quite so happy. Is she trying to flip me the bird?

We heard her first giggle the other night, too. I was making silly faces at her and we were rewarded with a slightly awkward laugh, as well as various cooing noises. Amazing what gets me excited these days.

One more thing. I will leave you with something I heard Damon saying to Allie yesterday.
"When you grow up, you will have breasts. Right now you only have nipples."
It really makes me wonder what else was going on in there...

One Arm Wonder

I learned when Allie was a baby that I could find a way to do most things in life with only one arm. Allie loved to be held (and didn't love much else) and I had to find ways to adapt. So far, Kyla has not been as high maintenance as Allie was, but she has her moments, and I have been reminded that while some things are manageable if you only have one arm free, other things are extremely difficult. For example:

Manageable: Eating a peach.
Difficult: Opening a can of peaches.

Manageable: Brushing my teeth.
Difficult: Flossing my teeth.

Manageable: Doing sit-ups.
Difficult: Doing push-ups.

Manageable: Putting bread into the toaster.
Difficult: Buttering a slice of toast.

Manageable: Going to the bathroom.
Difficult: Pulling my pants back up.

Manageable: Checking other people's blogs.
Difficult: Writing on my own blog.

I am, however, still trying to find ways to keep posting, even though I may be typing with only one hand (right now Kyla is enjoying the memory foam on my bed, so gratefully, I have two hands for this job).

I was tempted to photoshop an extra set of arms on a picture of my body (yes, I just used "photoshop" as a verb) and send it to Santa labeled "My Wish List." I don't necessarily want to be an octopus, but I sure wouldn't mind having four arms. Go Go Gadget Arms!

Just Trying Something New

My sister, Heather, is always changing her template and I thought I might be ready for a change. I'm not sure how much I love it, but we'll give it a go. If you're interested in seeing something new, click here to see some new templates.

Take your pick

Here is a little quiz for my devoted readers. Which of the following did NOT happen in the past 24 hours?

1. Allie switched the library's Music and Lyrics dvd for Ammon, Missionary to the Lamanites and I returned it to the library.

2. On our weekly trip to the beach I got stung by a jellyfish.

3. Kyla slept from 10:30 pm to 7:45 am, giving her mommy quite a scare (not to mention a very full chest).

Okay, I guess that was a trick question, because all of those things happened. Allie has been really interested in taking cds and dvds out of their cases and "putting them away," although we have found that that usually means she puts them into different cases. Today, she started again with the Book of Mormon dvds and I saw that she had replaced Ammon with Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore. Either she really wanted to keep Music and Lyrics or she was trying to do a little missionary work by getting Ammon into the library system (which seems to have worked, by the way, because when I called to inform a librarian, she told me that no one had caught it, and the movie had been checked back in). Either way, I'm sure my mom would rather have the animated Book of Mormon story when I return them to her.

I did get stung by a jellyfish yesterday and it was extremely painful. How ironic is it that I, who have spent far less time in the ocean this summer than the rest of my family, was the one the jellyfish targeted. Damon, Allie and I were really enjoying the mild temperature of the water and the tiny waves of the ocean when all of a sudden I felt a burning sensation on my leg, just below the knee. I let out a scream, completely freaking Damon out, and dropped Allie's hand, swatting desperately at what I instantly knew was a very unfriendly jellyfish. Fortunately, Allie was wearing floaties and didn't disappear instantly under a wave. I hobbled back to the beach where Jeff was keeping an eye on Kyla and iced my wound for several minutes. Every time I took the ice off, though, the stinging would return and the pain started shooting up my leg. Three distinct sting marks appeared and turned purple and the whole thing swelled up before I found the closest lifeguard and asked if he had anything for it. He sprayed it with some alcohol/vinegar mixture and also a burn spray and it started feeling a lot better. At least I thought I might be able to make it home. To make a long story short, the pain gradually subsided and today just feels like a mild sunburn, but it was something I hope I don't have to live through again. It's enough to make me stay in the shallows, where I can see what's down there. I tried to take a picture of my injury, but it just didn't do it justice.

Kyla did sleep for over nine hours last night, and when I woke up at 7:00 to check on her, my heart started thumping as I hoped I would find her still breathing. She was. Maybe all that crying she did at the beach yesterday really wore her out, because she has been really sleepy today, too. I'm not expecting her to do that every night (she's been pretty consistent to sleep six hours at a time), but once I realized that she hadn't died, I was thrilled with her big accomplishment.

What a day! Can't wait to see what the next 24 hours hold.

Moving Out

So, two nights ago I took a big step. I moved back into my own bedroom, on the opposite side of the house from Kyla. And after forcing Jeff out of the middle of the bed, I got to sleep in memory foam heaven. For those of you who don't know (or didn't realize), I have been sleeping in Kyla's room since she came home from the hospital, while Jeff has been enjoying his own room with the big soft bed he can't stand. How very 1950's sitcom of us, you might be saying to yourself. Yes, and it was for the good of our marriage that we did it, although that might seem contradictory, so let me explain.

When Damon was born, we lived in Jeff's parents house, in a room affectionately known as "the train room." It is, in a sense, a very large studio apartment (minus the kitchen) with wood floors that actually were at one time part of a train track (or so I've been told). Jeff was working for his brothers at the time and somehow we came to the agreement that he would get up with Damon at 3:00 am (or whenever it was he woke up) and feed him a bottle (hurray for the Medela Pump in Style!) so I could get a little more sleep. It only lasted until we moved to Ohio two months later, but you would've thought he had done it every night for a year to hear him talk about how much he disliked doing it. He was always tired and any sound Damon made during the night really bothered him. He would roll over and make the most annoyed sounds, like he just couldn't sleep through all the commotion (granted, all sounds were amplified by the abundance of "train wood," but it wasn't like Damon was crying in his ear or anything). It made me crazy, but I was insistent on having a good stretch of sleep, so I encouraged him to keep it up until we moved.

Then Allie came along and I decided that she wouldn't ever sleep in our room. It was just so much easier if I took care of her and let Jeff get a good night's sleep. At least that way I wouldn't feel like he resented his child and he would be more willing to help out in other ways. And so I slept downstairs, either on the couch or in my recliner, for a couple of months until she was sleeping well enough to move her into Damon's room.

It worked out great for us. And so here in Florida, when we decided to keep the extra queen bed we inherited with this house in Kyla's room, I knew it was the perfect setup for the two of us. I could be close to her, so that I could hear her (and be sure she was breathing) without Jeff ever having to share his sleeping space with his new infant daughter. And so that's where I have been for the past 7+ weeks, and it has definitely been a good thing for our marriage, despite what you may be thinking. But Kyla has been sleeping really well lately and I decided it was time to move back into this decade and actually sleep in the same bed as my husband. The first night was perfect--Kyla slept from 10:30-5:00 and as soon as I heard her stirring via the monitor, I hopped up and quickly fed her. Last night she only slept until 3:00, but I had fed her earlier, at 9:00 pm, so it wasn't too terrible. But it's been nice to be back in my own room, even though it's much hotter sleeping in a bed with another person. We have been trying to conserve energy and it hasn't been too bad, but the last couple of nights have been a little warmer than I would like.

Anyway, this was a long way of documenting that, for the most part, Kyla is now sleeping six or seven hours at a time at night and I couldn't be happier. Most often, she will go from 10:00-5:00, and she always does better when she is swaddled (I love the Swaddle Me blanket, although I just had to buy a large and she managed to wiggle her arms out last night). So, while I don't have a sweet little newborn anymore, and that makes me infinitely sad, I do have a sweet 8 week old who is letting me get a lot more sleep, which isn't a half bad trade-off. At least I'm not saying, "My baby's all grown up and saving China" yet (what movie is that from?), although sometimes it seems like it won't be long now.

But I'm Not Tired

Allie doesn't like taking naps. She feels that by falling asleep, she will miss out on all the fun things Damon and I are doing. And so, at least half of the time she is in her room for nap time, she doesn't fall asleep. The rest of the time I find her like this (at least she's in her bed).

That could mean that she is ready to give up naps altogether, but I get the feeling that she isn't quite ready for that yet. Let me know if you disagree...

One day she fell asleep on my lap as I was typing and didn't wake up when I placed her on the chair.

One day she fell asleep on a small chair as I was getting dinner ready...

In two different positions.

And finally, we have last night. She completely melted down around 5:00, but refused to admit she was tired. I was setting the table and she was waiting patiently for dinner when I realized it had become awfully quiet. This is how I found her.

And here she is, insisting that she isn't tired. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I just don't believe it.

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Party time

We had Damon's birthday party on Saturday here at our house. I debated many possibilities, including doing it at a park (eliminated because it's too hot to do anything outside that doesn't involve water), having him only invite a couple of friends and going to Chuck E Cheese (eliminated because even with only a few friends, I still didn't want to pay to go there), and not doing anything at all (eliminated because for the rest of my life I would've had to answer to him about why we didn't do anything).

And so, we had one ten-year old (our next door neighbor, who Damon thinks is his best friend), six five-year olds, one four-year old, one three-year old and Allie come to our house for a party. Here is a picture of the whole crew. I am the primary teacher to most of these kids, so they all seemed to feel right at home (both a good thing and a bad thing, I guess).



We just did the basic party things; we played a couple games, ate lunch and birthday cake, opened presesnts, had a treasure hunt and busted open a pinata. I asked Damon if there was anything else he would want to change for future parties and he said no, that it was perfect. He may disagree when he watches the clip of him whacking the pinata, then crying because he couldn't find any candy.

Ever since we did a pinata last year, he has been planning on having one again. It was the only thing that we had to have and even though I made him choose the cheapest one they had at Wal-Mart, I think it was everything he hoped it would be. Oh, and yes, Damon dressed himself and told me if he got too hot in his jeans, he would just get a drink of water. Whatever works, I guess.

As for me, I am just relieved that it is over. The kids really were very well-behaved and we didn't have any problems, but it's nice not to have to think about it anymore. At least until next year.

Transition to Three

Some of you have asked what it's been like having three kids, and while I still can't believe I actually do have three, there are many things in life that would suggest that to be the case. I have now been a mother of three for 7 weeks and here are some things that I have observed:

1. Chasing Allie around is not any easier now that I'm not pregnant anymore. I wish that weren't the case, but I still can't keep up with her. If I'm nursing, she takes full advantage of my immobility and manages to still find numerous ways of getting in trouble. For instance, twice in the past week I have found her in my bathroom trying on my mascara. I'd say she needs a little more practice (and a little more supervision).

2. The end of May is the worst possible time to have a baby. If Damon were still in school, it wouldn't be so hard to go places, but with all three kids, even the most simple errand becomes a major hassle. I had to go to the post office to pick up a package for Jeff and inevitably had to wait in a long line. I was holding Kyla, which left Allie free to roam, choosing the packing material she would most like to have, and throwing it all on the floor. All I could do was say, "Damon, please pick that up and put it back," but in my head I was thinking something a lot less nice. By the time we got out of there, I know everyone else in line was thinking that they wouldn't trade places with me for anything.

Another time, while filling out a money order for Kyla's birth certificate, Allie managed to fall on her head as she tried to climb out of the back of the shopping cart. She was more embarrassed than anything (and I had three different employees offer me ice, as though they were worried I might try to sue the store), but once I saw that there was no blood, all I could do was shake my head in disbelief.

3. Damon doesn't get nearly as much attention as he deserves. At least, that's what his behavior would suggest. He has always been a bit of a worrier (as you saw in the spaceship clip), but lately he has been more anxious than usual, and I think it must have something to do with the baby. He started crying when we couldn't find Jeff in Circuit City (although I repeatedly tried to assure him that he hadn't left the store), he started crying when our van wouldn't start, and he started crying when he had to go to primary without me, as I was still nursing in the mother's lounge. It's frustrating, but I'm trying to be understanding. He doesn't get as much one-on-one time, and even when he does, Kyla is usually only seconds away from crying. I try to read with him every day while Allie is napping (in other words, locked in her room), and at least half the time Kyla does more vocalizing than Damon does. He doesn't take any of his frustrations out on her, thankfully, but I think he still has them.

4. Kyla, unfortunately, often gets ignored. Why is that she always seems to be fussy when I need to get dinner on the table? It's one of life's mysteries and my solution has been to let her cry. Maybe that makes me a bad mom, but I am trying to find a way to juggle it all, and I am yet to accomplish it. And so, if I can't get to her (and Damon isn't feeling like holding her for me), she sits somewhere comfortable and cries. One day I placed her on a wadded up blanket on the floor, positive I was going to come right back and get her when I finished what I was working on, only to find that fifteen minutes later, she had fallen asleep right where I had left her. This is highly unusual, as she doesn't generally sleep all that much during the day, but I know that part of being the third child that you have to be a little more patient with mom.

5. I have very little quiet time to myself. I am really looking forward to being able to establish a routine again once school starts. As a kid, I couldn't understand why my mom seemed to hate summer so much--there was nothing better than swimming every day, staying up late, and eating lots and lots of popsicles. Now, though, I realize why she was always so happy to see us go back to school; she could get back to doing the things she wanted to do, without having to worry about everyone else first.

For me, my daily shower is often the best part of my day. I can lock the door, and by so doing, lock out the rest of the world. I can't hear the kids crying and whining (or I can pretend that I don't hear them) and I can just close my eyes and imagine that I am alone. I never thought that one of my greatest desires would be to be by myself, but sometimes it is.

I don't know if all kids are as touchy-feely as mine, but if I am sitting on the couch holding the baby, it won't be long before all three of the kids are practically sitting on me. This picture of the kids and me is so typical; Damon laying on my shoulder, Kyla on my lap and Allie trying to make sure I haven't forgotten about her. Oh how I love my three kids, and I know I'll look back and wonder how I could ever have been annoyed by their constant presence, but for now, that is my reality.

To sum up, life with three kids is harder than ever, but it's also better than ever. We really do have a lot of fun and watching Damon and Allie light up when Kyla is smiling at them is priceless. I am anxious for the summer to be over, but I'm trying to keep in mind that the grass won't necessarily be greener (literally, as well as figuratively) at the end of August. I'm sure there will be many new challenges we'll have to deal with (potty training comes to mind), so for now I will just try to enjoy every moment we have this summer. And even though swimming every day isn't a possibility, and staying up late doesn't hold the same excitement it once did, I can still eat lots and lots of popsicles. And that's a pretty darn good thing.

Musings

"Heavenly Father and Jesus will never run out of power!"
-yelled to me by Damon, who was sitting on the toilet.

Not exactly somewhere I'd expect him to be thinking about God, but I suppose we do promise that we'll always remember him.

My Dad

Yesterday was my dad's birthday and I wanted to write up a little tribute for him. Happy Birthday Dad!

You may have heard me say (or read where I have written) that my personality is the complete opposite of my mom's, and that is true. So I guess it goes without saying that I am much more like my dad.

One of my favorite memories of my childhood is reading with my dad. He would come into our rooms at night and read books to us, skimming parts he thought would be too boring. Over and over we would chant, "don't stop!," sure that we would be able to understand every word out of his mouth. We read many books this way, but none stand out in my mind more than Summer of the Monkeys. It instantly became one of our favorite books, probably because it was already one of my dad's favorites. I remember him getting choked up at the end, when the brother decides to use the monkey money to get his sister's leg fixed, and all I could think was this has got to be the best story ever written!

I am sure that my love of reading can be traced back to those nights we spent together, and I can think of nothing else I would like for my own children than to have some of their grandpa's passion for books trickle down to them. I also blame/attribute my love of sports to him, as he was (and still is) an amazing athlete.

My dad was (and I hope still is) one of my biggest fans. While my mom didn't know what a pick and roll was (still doesn't in fact, although my sister and I have tried to teach her), my dad always knew more than my basketball coach (especially if you ask him). And for being such a mild-mannered man, his voice always carried louder than anyone else in the stands. I have two vivid memories of him from this time in my life. One was after a particularly disappointing game , when I came home feeling completely dissatisfied with my performance. My mom greeted me at the door with, "what happened?," genuinely spoken in love, but NOT what I wanted to hear. After brushing her off, hoping she would get the message that I wasn't in the mood to discuss it, I found my dad in the kitchen, making french fries. Maybe it's because I'm a lot like him, but he seemed to instantly realize how I was feeling and what I needed. He looked at me for a moment, and asked, "You hungry?" I nodded, and he lowered some sliced potatoes into the hot grease. He didn't say any more, but somehow that was exactly what I needed. Those fries may not have been magic fries, but they must have been pretty special, since I remember them ten years later.

I also remember my dad and Ross, the father of another girl on our team, at the state basketball tournament. Unlike most of the parents, they weren't satisfied sitting a respectable distance away, but chose to sit right in the middle of the student section. I remember looking up at them during the boys game (which, unfortunately, always seems to draw a much larger crowd than any game I ever played in), and being amazed at what I saw. Not only were they surrounded by dozens of students from the other school, who were taunting them relentlessly, they were standing up, yelling right back at them and pointing at the scoreboard. I got the feeling that somehow they had been transported back to their own "glory days," which we were always being reminded of, and I just shook my head, hoping that they would make it out of there without inciting a riot.

There are so many other things I could tell you about him, but I think this picture says it better than I could hope to. He loves his grandkids, maybe more so than his own children even, and I can't think of any place more inviting to fall asleep than on grandpa's lap in the middle of a crowded mall at Christmas time. Especially if he was looking at me with such love in his eyes. Yep, Allie is one lucky girl. And so am I. I love you dad!

Burping and Milk

Allie and Kyla are both sleeping and so I thought I'd steal a few minutes to try to post, although Damon is trying to ask me a question every second so this may not last, but since I have nothing really of interest to post anyway, that might be a good thing.

There is nothing more satsifying than getting a nice, spit-up-less burp out of a baby. Wouldn't you agree? I forgot how great that feels. Especially the times when you know something is bothering your little one; they cry when you think they should be nursing and when you sit them up and give them a couple solid thumps on the back, you are rewarded with a loud belch, mixed in a sort of "thank you cry", and nothing could be more exciting.

The other night I was doing my best to get dinner on the table (explaining yet again to Damon my desire to have more than two arms so I could do things a little faster), and Kyla was screaming, letting me know that she was hungry, too. When we sat down to eat, I decided I wasn't in the mood to eat alone and so I did what any hungry mother would do--I nursed her at the table. At this point, I'm sure you're not gasping in shock, but hopefully nodding in agreement--it's not always fun to eat alone, especially when you're the one preparing the food and not getting to enjoy it while it's warm. Kyla didn't mind, and when I sat her up after she finished one side, I tried to put some more food on my plate with my free hand. Instantly, and without any help whatsoever from me, she burped loudly, as though she had been enjoying her meal, too. That was when I realized that all those times I felt so good about myself for coaxing those troublesome air bubbles out of her probably had a lot more to do with gravity than anything I was really doing. By patting her on the back, was I really doing anything but making myself feel good? I get the feeling that that question had already been answered by my somewhat neglected third child, who was perfectly happy burping herself. What a shame to have that bubble burst (my self-congratulating, not the bubbles Kyla is working on).

Alright. Now that Damon is entertaining himself by pushing dimes around the computer desk (right next to me, of course, but at least no longer asking me questions), I think I have time for one more subject. Is anyone else losing sleep at night wondering what in the world happened to the price of milk? At Wal-Mart the other day, a gallon was over $4.00! Sheesh! I heard that things weren't great with dairy farmers, but honestly, it's getting way out of control. Long gone are the days of Kroger's 10 half gallons for 10 dollars. Jeff keeps saying that we're going to have to either start drinking powdered milk or stop eating cereal. I don't find either of those options very attractive and hope it never actually comes to that.

Here in Jacksonville, I started buying milk at CVS because it is always cheaper. Their regular price for a gallon is $3.59, which still seems awfully steep, but it's less than Wal-Mart. They do, however, have sales fairly often, where a gallon costs $2.49. Much more reasonable. You can only buy two gallons at a time, and so I'll stop by every few days and stock up. My mom taught us that you can freeze milk (although make sure it has thawed completely before you drink it, or you may get a chunk of ice in your mouth when you aren't expecting it...yuck), and I did do that once. Walgreen's also has sales ($2.89 a gallon) and that helps out, too. Now, though, I am just wondering if the price is going to ever come back down or if it is just going to plateau for the foreseeable future. Basically, I'm wondering if I need to look into buying a cow so that we can be sure to have milk without complaining too much about it (or, heaven forbid, drinking powdered milk). And if so, does anyone want to share it with me?

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Old video clip

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Share Photos - Free Video Hosting This is a video from April when we visited the Kennedy Space Center. Jeff was trying to show how big the back of the space craft is compared to Allie (these are the five engines she is standing under), but the reason I wanted to post it is because of what Damon says toward the end. I had gone to the bathroom and when he saw the cleaning crew put up a wet floor sign, he started worrying that I wouldn't be able to get out. In typical Damon fashion, he freaked out about something that was really not a big deal at all. Enjoy.

Our Fourth

We had a fun Fourth of July, although the rain kept us from enjoying ourselves too much. We had plans to meet up with a bunch of friends at Jacksonville Beach to play and watch the fireworks, but after a morning filled with constant drizzle, we were worried that we might have to change our plans so we could stay dry. Fortunately, the rain cleared out and by late afternoon we were on our way to a big whoopdeedoo (I've never actually seen that word in print, so who knows how to spell it). We asked Kyla what she thought about everything and here she is pondering it all.


The waves, although they look fairly tame in this picture, were pretty big and we couldn't just let the kids go out by themselves. Fortunately, they found other ways to entertain themselves. Here's Damon and Romy playing in the sand.

Allie decided to cover her body in sand from head to toe. She did a fairly thorough job and doesn't seem too dissatisfied with the results.

April organized the whole event, inviting families both from our ward and her new ward. She even invited a girl she met at the library, so we had quite the group! Here are most of the ladies (some were busy watching the kids and didn't make it into the shot). Me, Noel, Daisy, Lindsey, Mariah, Lindsay, April and Heather, as well as a few of the kiddies.

We posed for a family shot as the sun was getting ready to go down. If you look closely, you can see a tiny grin on Kyla's face.

As it got dark, and we were waiting for the fireworks to start, Damon mooched a sparkler off of someone. Even though the sign said "No Fireworks on the Beach," he wasn't the only one celebrating his independence with some fireworks of his own.

When it was dark enough, the fireworks show began. Damon thought Kyla would enjoy them more from his lap. I'm not sure what kind of expression that is on her face, but she doesn't seem to disagree entirely.

I know you can barely tell, but there is actually a firework in the background. They were shot off from the pier so we had a great view from the beach.

It was getting late, and Allie was tired from covering herself with sand. She nearly fell asleep on Jeff's lap, but somehow managed to stay awake. Damon thought that Jeff's other knee might be a comfortable place to watch the show, or at least somewhere with a better view of Allie's tired eyes.

Just before the fireworks ended, we posed for one more family picture. We were sandy, wet, and tired, but happy. Of course, the kids fell asleep on the way home and got to sleep in their clothes, as tiny piles of sand covered nearly every inch of their beds. Neither one complained, though. Isn't it great to be young? We had a great Fourth and Allie is already asking when we can go back for more fireworks. Hope you all had a great time, too!

Filet O' Fish

Well, you know that we don't watch a lot of commercials, thanks to our fabulous DVR, but one night we came across this gem from McDonald's. I can't say that I've ever been impressed with McDonald's commercials before (how can a company that generates so much money do so little to create good ads?), but this one is pretty good. Jeff and I sat watching for the first half of the commercial when suddenly it became funny. I don't know why, but we just started laughing. Now it has become a family joke, and at the beach yesterday, when Dave Ferguson told Allie that she is a little fish, she responded, "Filet of fish." And she's never even seen the commercial. I think I'll go get her right now and let her watch. Enjoy!

Birthday Boy

Damon turned five on Monday. Sunday night he was so excited to go to bed, because in the morning it would be his birthday. Don't you remember wen you were younger and, besides Christmas, your birthday was the most anticipated day of the year? I tried to make his day special, even though we aren't going to have his party until next week (it took several attempts to explain to him the difference between his actual birthday and his birthday party, but I think he finally understands).

When he woke up (before 7:00 am, I might add), he asked if he could opened his presents, but I made him wait until Jeff woke up. He was appropriately excited and grateful for the few things we got for him, which was enough to make me happy. Then we made pancakes for breakfast. He had been dreaming about that (literally) and had his heart set on it. After our breakfast, we went to Toys R Us. As a part of Geoffrey's Birthday Club, he got a $3 coupon for anything he wanted, as well as a crown and balloon for visiting the store. He also had $10 from his grandparents and had a fantastic time trying to decide the best way to spend it. He ended up with a jumbo box of sidewalk chalk and ten Hot Wheels cars for his collection.

He was excited to try out the chalk, but wasn't thrilled when he had to clean it up as the rain came pouring down from the sky.

A word about his outift--yes, it is summer in Jacksonville, and while it's been cooler (only in the 80's) with all the rain we've been getting lately, it's still not quite sweat pants/long sleeve shirt weather. But he dressed himself and wasn't in the mood to change. That is, until he got drenched trying to save his chalk from disintegration. Notice that he also stopped to pick up the newspaper as he was coming inside. What dedication to a thorough job!

I asked him what he wanted for his birthday dinner, and here's what he chose: salmon, vegetables, lemonade and water. I offered to make breadsticks, too, which he thought was a good idea. I did find myself wondering how many five year olds would choose salmon for their birthday dinner. I'm not complaining, merely wondering.

He ended the night the way he ends most nights in the summer--with a popsicle. He wanted to make, and decorate, sugar cookies, but I explained that we need more time than just an evening to do that. I'm still trying to figure out when we'll do that. But I think it was a good birthday for him and he's really looking forward to his party next week. In typical mom fashion, I have to remark how amazing it is that I have a five year old. I don't feel old enough, or wise enough, to make such a claim, but I couldn't be happier that Damon is a part of our family. He's got such a good heart and he has taught me so much about being a mom. He's the perfect big brother for little sisters, and while he's not thrilled about being the only boy here at home, he's so sweet with them and they are really lucky to have him.

Three things

Before I forget...

1)Damon was trying on some swim goggles and said, "It's tickling my nose. It's because I'm so excited." Huh, I can't say I've ever been that excited.

2)We were watching The Living Scriptures movie about Ammon and at one point King Mosiah tells his sons he wants to show them something. Guessing at what it could possibly be, Allie asked, "What is it mommy, a cockroach?" What does that say about what I've been showing her lately?

3) Allie came into the bedroom the other morning wanting breakfast. Instead of asking for Chocolate Peanut Butter Pops, she said, "I need some peanut butter meatballs." I love peanut butter and I love meatballs, but somehow the thought of them together just doesn't do it for me.