Father's Day and Lasik

A quick word about the middle of June. We celebrated Father's Day by making breakfast for Jeff (he preferred to eat with us at the table and not in bed) and giving him some ever exciting gifts. Shirts and ties (two shirts I took back because he is a picky, picky man, but I bought four shirts, so the two he kept made me feel very pleased with my decisions). We did manage to take a quick pic before church and I must note that Carter picked his own tie out, although he doesn't have any that really match his brown outfit.

FHE usually turns into dancing as Jeff plays his repertoire on the piano. McKay is usually an unwilling participant.

I also had LASIK on both my eyes. I had to find a pair of glasses to wear for the two weeks I needed to let my eyes return to their normal shape, and I haven't worn any type of glasses in at least four years. So, I found these babies at zennioptical.com for $12 (including shipping). Not half bad, and I enjoyed my "hipster" look for two weeks.

The morning of the surgery I was pretty nervous. Although you never hear of anyone having a bad experience any more, it's still nerve racking to think about what is going to be done to your eyes. They gave me a valium to help me relax, but I should have taken it four hours earlier, as I didn't really feel it kick in until later in the day when all was said and done.

The procedure itself was quick and not painful. It took about 5 minutes in the actual operating room and except for the panic I felt that I might lose my eyesight, wasn't bad at all. I had to wait around for 30 minutes so the dr could check the eyes and make sure there was nothing under the flap (like a mote or a beam) that would cause complications in the healing process. There was nothing. 

I went home and tried to sleep the day away, per the doctor's orders. My eyes felt itchy and irritated and really they felt the best when they were closed. Plus, the valium was really making me feel relaxed so it was easy to rest. I started on the major drop regiment (steroids, antibiotics and a couple other drops) and was constantly squeezing something into my eye.

By the next morning, I felt about 80% better. And I could see! Amazing. Probably my biggest complaint would be the burst blood vessels in my eyes from the suction ring (an unavoidable side effect). Pretty, huh? And the ones in the left eye are just now fading away, three weeks later!

I had to wear these fashionable goggles for the first couple of nights so I didn't wake up aggressively rubbing, and the kids thought that was awesome.

Like I said, it's now been three weeks and I couldn't be happier. My eyes are still a little dry, but I am really loving my new eyesight! 

June Funnies

Lots to write. But today here are the funnies from June:

Mom: "I kinda like you."
Carter: "I kinda wuv you."

Allie: "I want to help you scrape the cucumbers!" (peel the cucumbers)

Found written on the table in Allie and Kyla's room: Goldelox was here.

Allie: "I want to do the boinga boinga at swim lessons." (bobs)

Kyla: "Carter! Your shirt says Lover Boy, but you're not being very loving!!"

(Everett Davis and Carter in the Lover Boy shirt)

Babysitter, who had just walked into the house: "Hi Carter!"
Carter: "I tooted."

One morning during scripture study, we were talking about 3 Nephi 12 and I asked the kids what Jesus said we should do to our enemies. Damon said, "keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

Kyla, watching the NBA finals: "Are there any white man's that play basketball?"

Jeff was talking on the phone to a guy in our ward and the kids asked who it was. He said, "Brother Carter." Carter got very mad and said, "Not brother me!"

Allie, after getting an appliance in her mouth (to widen her palate so she will have room for her permanent teeth): "I used to have such a lovely voice before I got the expander."

Kyla: "Hey, you bird over there, are you a Wobin?"

Carter: "Damon is a bum crack!"

Kyla, playing with some toys: "Get back in jail, little fella."

Finally, Carter, upset with the hawk that took off with our pet quail: "Spank! That! Bird!"

Week in St Geezy

For seven years when I was a kid, my mom taught Safety Town, which is a two week program for 5-6 year olds that focuses on all types of safety. Obviously. I went when I was five (before my mom started teaching) and learning to STOP DROP AND ROLL saved my life a few months later. 

(For posterity, here is that story: My mom was hosting a dinner at our house and was using her oven to cook a main dish of some type. Let's pretend it was a turkey. I honestly have no idea. She was also using the oven at the neighbor's house to bake potatoes. The neighbor wasn't home. At the last minute, she got thinking that she probably needed a couple more potatoes and sent me up with two to "toss" in the oven. I went in, opened the oven, and recoiled, imagining that if I tossed the potatoes in, they would probably knock some of the other potatoes out. So I grabbed a towel that was hanging on the oven door and used it to slide the rack of potatoes out. I set the other two potatoes on, slid it back in, and closed the door. 

Little did I know that the towel had touched the heating element on the bottom of the oven and was burning. I also didn't know that the fringe on my cutoffs had caught fire as well.When I looked down and saw my leg glowing, I dropped the towel in the middle of the kitchen, booked it over to the family room and performed the STOP DROP AND ROLL. The fire was quickly extinguished from my leg, but the towel was still burning. And I was alone in the neighbor's house.

I ran to the phone and called my mom, telling her,"The towel's on fire!" I'll never forget looking out the back window and watching my mom sprint up the street to me. She quickly got the fire put out, and we then had to deal with the aftermath (replacing the linoleum that had burned and the healing of my left thigh. I still have a scar).

For years after, my mom (the new Safety Town teacher) had me come talk to the kids on Fire Safety Day to tell them about my experience. So you can imagine I have a soft spot in my heart for Safety Town).

I tried to find Safety Town here in Orem so Allie could attend last year, but there is not one. So when it came time to sign Kyla up, I decided it would be a great opportunity for her to spend some time with Grandma Karen in St. George and attend with her cousins.

We left Kyla after the family reunion and came back a week later, when Damon and Allie got out of school. The program lasts two weeks. Here are some of the fun things we did!

The "Girls Car" plus McKay. 

The "Boys Car" driven by Tara. No matter where we went, this is how the kids liked to travel. Boys together in one car, girls together in the other. 

One night we went to a dinner hosted by my parents' electric company at the convention center. In addition to a yummy dinner and ice cream bar, they also had a couple of bounce houses for the kids as well as face painting. 

Damon and the twins spent a lot of time working on their fort. Damon came up with a way to keep the place lit with some cans and flashlights. My mom thought it was genius. 

Here's a funny pic of McKay eating a corn dog. It was too hot, so he kept licking it and showing me that he couldn't eat it.

Here are the Safety Town graduates. I know they had a lot of fun and learned a lot. We just wish Kyla was better about wearing her seatbelt (something she does not like to do).

It was a fun week, and the kids were all sad to come back home. 

Family Reunion

The McKnight Family (my mom's fam) had a reunion over Memorial Day. It was a great time. See for yourself...

Fun carousel rides...

Kimmy and flowers

Big group pics

Four Wheeler fun

Marshmallows

 Splitting wood

Sister Wives with French braids (we were only miles from Colorado City. It was fitting)

Cute t-shirts and LOTS of food!!

Kyla

Kyla turned five on May 24th. And all she really wanted was a party EXACTLY like Allie had. But since Kyla's friends already experienced that makeover extravaganza, I talked her into something different. I did, however, make her a pink Skittles cake. There was no compromise with that request.

Sadly, I only took two pictures of the party. It was a little hectic without Jeff here. Kyla LOVES Barbies. And I don't think she was the least bit disappointed that she pretty much only got Barbies. 

I had a Groupon for Color Me Mine, a place where you go and paint ceramics and then they fire them for you. She invited three friends and Allie and after presents, games, cake and ice cream, I took the five girls there. When we got there, I quickly realized how expensive the party could turn. The girls all wanted to paint something that cost $15-20! I had to step in and find some cute, SMALLER things ($3 each) to suffice.

Four of the girls were cooperative and happily picked two small things to paint. Allie, on the other hand, was having none of it. She wanted to paint something big. And I can't say that I blamed her. But she started off pouting and huffing around the store. I ignored her and helped the other girls get their paints and get started. The pouting soon turned into crying, and escalated into hysterics. She was NOT going to be satisfied with the dumb baby stuff. She wanted something bigger and better. We finally (after much crying and fighting) decided on one $6 item that was acceptable to her. But don't think the battle ended there. Oh no.

Everything was going wrong. The water was too dirty. The paints were all ugly. The paintbrushes were not the right kind. She complained and cried and sobbed about everything and anything, drawing many a curious glance from the painters at other tables. It was completely ridiculous. I wanted to take her out to the car and let her sit in there while the other girls painted. But obviously I couldn't do that. And after another 20 minutes or so of crying, she finally got her cupcake painted.

We left Color Me Mine and walked back to the van. Allie was the last one in and the only seat left was Kyla's booster, with the back. No one wanted to sit there. But especially not Allie. Because nothing was going to satisfy her that day. So she refused to get in her seat, and just stood next to me, wailing. I was driving out of the parking lot (slowly) and hit my brakes. I wanted her to get startled and realize that being in a seatbelt was pretty dang important. I did not want her to go flying into the dashboard headfirst. But that's what happened.

Her nose started bleeding and she started screaming, "You broke my nose! I can't believe you did that!" The whole way home, we got to listen to her scream, "Take me to the hospital!" and other such phrases. The girls had their fingers in their ears, and at one point one of them said, "I wish Allie hadn't come, do you?" I know I sure did.

We got home and I was relieved to find that her nose was not broken. She calmed down to when we determined that she was fine, and I could finally reason with her. But not before she ruined Kyla's birthday. At least for me. Kyla couldn't have cared less (at least she didn't act like she cared). All she wanted to do was play with her Barbies.

Here are a few pics of Kyla's last day of preschool. She sure had a great year and cried on the last day because she missed it already.

Miss Kirstie, Miss Chelsie and Miss Jenna

Claire, one of her friends

I sure do love Kyla. She sure is easy to love. And happy and fun and mischievous and playful. And doesn't like to eat dinner. And our family wouldn't be the same without her.

Girls Night

Back in April, Allie, Kyla and I went to a youth theater production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I knew they'd love it. They decided they wanted to wear their dresses from Mexico and wear their hair up in a sock bun. I probably should clarify that that is what ALLIE decided and Kyla likes to do what Allie does.

The show was great and we all had a good time. I love doing things with my girls.

Kyla's hair is still pretty short, and so we had to use one of the boys' socks for her bun. It barely stayed in, but she didn't seem to care. Typical KyKy.

We also took advantage of the girls' birthday money/Mother's Day and went and got spa pedicures. It was delightful. We want to make it a tradition every year (Mother's Day happens to be right between Allie and Kyla's birthdays. Perfect).

As far as Allie's counseling goes, it seems to be going well. She has gone three times now and has had far fewer problems. She still has some anxiety attacks (including one at school where she thought she couldn't breathe and got a bit hysterical), but has been able to get under control much more quickly. I hope it is helping.

I have found that I have spent so much time and energy worrying about her (having anxiety of my own, wondering if something traumatic has happened that she hasn't told anyone about (side note, her counselor asked her about this and she said no, and nothing else in her behavior leads me to believe that she is lying, so I have have tried not to let my imagination run wild)), and have also spent many hours in fervent prayer in her behalf. I feel closer to her than I ever have. I feel more empathy for what she is going through. I feel more love and patience for her when she is struggling. So even if the counseling is not helping that much (which I think it is), there are so many good things coming out of the situation. 

For now, I'm extremely grateful that she seems to be doing well. Except for a few instances I'd rather forget (including Kyla's birthday party), she seems much happier. Maybe that has something to do with the increased love and patience I have had for her. I hope so. I hope I can make her life a little better. And in turn, she can make mine a little better, too.

April/May Funnies

I didn't have enough quotes from April, so here are the past two months of funny things I actually remembered to write down.

Kyla, talking about our neighbor, Joseph, who is a month older than McKay: "Jofiss still drinks milk out of Melissa's nipple!"

I asked Carter to stop playing with Jeff's iPad. He said, "no MY pad!"

Carter caught on quick while we were playing "Do You Love Your Neighbor?" for FHE. He answered every question with, "mumble mumble shoes" or "mumble mumble 'Ona,"both of which were answers given earlier in the game (I don't like people wearing shoes, I don't like people who went to Arizona). Probably had to be there for that one, but trust me. It was Hi-larious.

Allie, talking to her friend: "You don't know Chance?! He's our angel. He died when he was born and it was so sad." (she wasn't even born then)

Carter asked me what color something I was. I told him "white." He said, "oh, wipe."

Kyla, looking for a ring that holds the measuring spoons together: "Where's the hooker?"

Carter ripped one and said, "I have one gas." I asked him where, to clarify, and he said, "in my bum."

Carter was crying and crying and crying one afternoon and I was doing my best to ignore him, sitting at the piano. He came up to me and declared, "I'm not a bad mood!"

Allie drew me a picture and it said: By Allie To Mom With love and care

Kyla and I were talking about Satan and how he tries to tempt you to do things that are wrong. She told me, "Like how he got Eric to wear undies." (My previously endowed brother no longer wears his garments)

Carter, holding a flip flop high above his head like a Samurai warrior: "Can I hit Bubba?"

Allie, when a baby quail tried to jump out of my hands: "He flew in your bodice!"

Carter, at church one day, looked out the window and saw my van. "Mom van!," he said. Then he looked at me and said, "mom fun."

Cycle of Life

Remember how I said that Jeff has interesting hobbies that keep us entertained? Well, our latest endeavor was to hatch baby quail. We tried last year and failed, so this year Jeff bought an incubator and ordered 24 eggs off of Ebay (15 from one seller, 9 from another). After three weeks of incubating, the first batch were ready to hatch. And of course, Jeff was in Hawaii for his ortho convention and I had to be the hatching mother.

The eggs in the incubator. They are tiny. About the size of your thumb joint.

After reducing the temperature and increasing the humidity (per Jeff's instructions), we waited. And then the baby quail started to hatch. Two hatched before I went to bed and another one had hatched by morning. By the end of the second day, ten baby quail had hatched from the eggs, and we got to see a couple of them actually emerge from the egg.

It may seem silly, but that was pretty amazing. To see new life come into the world is exciting and fun and a little bit spiritual, even when it is tiny quail chicks.

Video clip I sent to Jeff of one of the chicks hatching

Two just barely born\

A few of the quail weren't doing so well. Three of them had splayed legs, where they couldn't get on their feet, but instead showed off a swimming motion that wasn't very effective at all. Two others laid on their sides and kicked their legs, going around in circles rather than standing on their feet. But five of the ten babies looked great. They were peppy and were eating and drinking and peeping and they were the hit of the neighborhood.

One of the ones with splayed legs

We had them in the old lizard cages with a heat lamp and food and water for them. And then they started dying. The dizzy ones went first, and the kids named one Cocoa and buried it in the backyard. The next morning, Friday, Kyla was playing in the cage (something she shouldn't have been doing, but she couldn't resist) and was holding one of the chicks. She came upstairs to show me that it was dead.  And it sure was. I asked her what had happened, and she told me that she had squeezed it too hard. Suddenly having flashbacks to Of Mice and Men, I had to refrain from calling her "Lenny" as I tried to imagine what must have transpired in her little head to make her suddenly morph into a chick killer (it was clear from the poop on the bottom of the cage that she had squeezed it pretty hard). She was instantly contrite, but I was so sad. We all were.

Damon made this "headstone." It says 

Cocoa

bird 2012

Died 1 day old

Family friend

About an hour later, I noticed another chick was missing. I looked around for Carter and he came running out of one of the bedrooms upstairs yelling, "A baby chick!" He came down and excitedly showed me that the chick he was holding was also dead. Sadly, I asked him what had happened. He made a fist and said, "I squeeze it like this!" And another one gone. Another one gone. Another one bites the dust. I tried to tell him that the chick had died and that I was so sad, but he didn't seem the least bit upset. Later, when I asked him what had happened to the chick, he said, "Make die. Frow it in the trash."

How quickly my mood had swung from elated (with the birth of these little chicks) to depressed (with only seven out of ten left). Over the next day, before Jeff got home, the two with the worst leg spraddle also died. They just couldn't ever figure out how to make their legs work (I was also bummed that the two that were squoze couldn't have been the ones that were going to die anyway!). So when Jeff got home, only five of the ten babies were alive. And they seemed to be doing well.

But they weren't. We learned that the heat lamp was not keeping the cages warm enough. There was one mean chick we called Pecker who was picking on all the others, pecking at their legs and making them bleed. And then they started to die. None of them even lasted a week.

Ah, the cycle of life. Usually not 7 days long, but still. The kids are now assured that the chicks are in animal heaven, and we move on as if nothing has changed.

Out of the other 9 eggs we had, three hatched on Friday. Those three are currently living in the incubator, where it's a toasty 95 degrees, and they are doing well. The largest of the three we call Goliath, and he is a spunky little guy. He ran behind Jeff's big desk/bookshelf in his office and it was quite a scene trying to get him out (which we accomplished with a little coaxing from his mama (me) and a broom).

We are hoping we can keep these ones alive and keep them as pets. Because, seriously, who doesn't want a quail that thinks he's part of the family?

Therapy

People who know Allie casually (from church or school, etc) are often surprised to find out that she isn't always a sweet and happy girl. Far from it, in fact. Allie has always been a little moody and not great at controlling her emotions. She has always had to go in another room and "cry it out" when she gets upset, because she just can't seem to get herself under control any other way.

She has also had a lot of phobias over the years, starting when she was really little and was afraid of shadows on the wall. Then it was stink bugs, spiders, mosquitoes...really any type of insect. I remember one day two summers ago when she saw a stink bug in the back yard and wouldn't move, peeing all over herself with hysterics. Or after we moved into our new house and she was afraid of the shadows in her closet and wouldn't go in her room by herself for months. Or the time she saw a spider in the van and, hours later, flat out REFUSED to get back in, even when it was long gone, instead running around screaming like she'd been attacked.

But no matter how severe her reactions were, she always seemed to be fairly short-lived. And so, while I worried about her, I figured it was just something she was able to get over in time and didn't need any professional help.

Times have changed. Her anxiety has gotten worse and worse and now it is affecting her life (and all of our lives for that matter). Mostly she is scared of things at night. For several months, we were able to get her scary feelings under control by reminding her to breathe, pray, sing songs and think of good things. For the past few months, though, she hasn't been able to get herself under control and instead has spent a lot of hours (usually at night after the other kids have fallen asleep) crying, then screaming, then getting hysterical.

Jeff doesn't understand what it feels like to be anxious, so he doesn't know how to deal with it. I am much more empathetic, as I can relate to what she is feeling, but it has gotten beyond my abilities to help her. When she gets hysterical, she is also completely irrational. She throws things and kicks the wall and door and SCREAMS. She says she CAN'T get control, she CAN'T stop crying, she's TOO SCARED. And if she isn't at least somewhat calm, there is nothing anyone can do to help her.

Like I said, this has been happening 3-4 times a week (occasionally even in the middle of the night if she gets woken up--one time she came in and said she was worried her heart was beating too slowly), and there are no longer any triggers that I can recognize. There's not a specific thing she is scared of, she is just scared. Saturday night was the worst night yet. After 30-45 minutes of screaming (her), threatening (me), kicking and hitting (her), and some filming of the incident (me), she still couldn't calm down.

It was going on 11:00 pm and I was losing it. I'm ashamed to admit that I was a little rough with her, trying to snap her out of her insanity, which obviously didn't help anything. I told her I needed to take her to the hospital, hoping to scare her out of her hysterics, because "if you can't get control of yourself, we need to get professional help." She tried to run, threatened to run away (ha, as if she was seriously going anywhere in the dark) and I put her in the car and started driving. We drove around and I tried to get her to just listen to me. Still, it didn't help. She was saying mean and hurtful things and I ended up taking her back home (because I had left the rest of the kids home alone and I knew Damon was scared when I left).

I called my mom and she and my dad were still up. I asked if they would just talk and see if Allie would listen. And finally, for the first time in nearly an hour, she stopped screaming. My dad talked to her about how important it is to get oxygen to your brain so you can think clearly and he got her to try to breathe deeply. I took her up to her bed where my parents continued to talk to her and got her relaxed enough to say a prayer together and fall asleep.

Phew. It was draining, physically and emotionally. And I knew that we needed professional help. I scheduled an appointment with a counselor that specializes in children and I met with her yesterday. Allie will meet with her every week for a while and hopefully we will all be able to start resting easy around here.

I don't know exactly why Allie has such a struggle with anxiety (genetics, definitely. And maybe the fact that I was not exactly in the best place emotionally when I was pregnant with her had something to do with it--LONG story for those who don't know. I was dealing with the after effects of losing Chance, and struggling with some bad anxiety myself. I was going to counseling and taking Zoloft while I was pregnant with her), but I do know that she shouldn't have to feel so afraid all the time. And I had a good feeling yesterday that this counselor will be able to help her be the happy girl that everyone else sees.

Allie's Seven!

Allie turned seven on Monday. After changing her mind repeatedly over what she wanted to do for her party, she finally decided that she wanted a Skittle cake. Easy peasy. And so delicious (according to all the guests).

We also came up with the idea of a "makeover party." My niece and her friend came and helped with the party. We painted fingernails and toenails, did hair and makeup and had a fashion show. It was seriously fun and the girls looked awesome! I asked them all questions (favorite color, what they wanted to be when they grew up, etc) and read their answers as they walked the "red carpet" and posed for some pictures. Here are the shots of Kyla and Allie as they posed for me.

The crew

The makeup artists

McKay

Allie is a fun girl. We have our battles (more about that soon), but I sure love her. She is smart (WAAAY smarter than I gave her credit for), tender-hearted, and loving. 

She loves spaghetti and breadsticks (her request for her birthday dinner), reading and writing stories, singing at the top of her lungs (when she thinks no one is listening), and playing. She has lost 12 teeth and is going to need a lot of orthodontic work (good thing she has a good orthodontist!). She loves makeup and side ponytails and pretty dresses. She reads Spanish with great expression (says her teacher), and even though she doesn't understand much, she has a great accent. 

Of all the girls at her party, she was the only one who said she wants to be a mom when she grows up.  I know she'll be a great one. If we can only survive the next 15 years or so until I can convince a great young man to take a chance on her! 

I do love my Allie girl. And she has made me a better mom.