Greggy Just Got Married!

Okay. So my dear friend, Gregg, got married last week. Here's his engagement photo:

He got married in the Idaho Falls temple to a great girl named Marthea. Incidentally, my middle name is Mathia. She has Norwegian ancestry, and so do I! (So that automatically qualifies Marthea as a cool girl.)

I went to his reception, which was beautiful, all done up in turquoise and cream, with a seashore theme. So pretty and classy. I was a dork and forgot my camera. Sheesh. I couldn't afford to give them a gift - yes, we are that poor - but I did bring them a card, and this girl is so nice that she wrote me a thank-you note for the CARD!! My friend, Chad's, wife did the same thing. How on top of it are these girls, to write thank-you notes so quickly, and for something as inconsequential as a card?

Gregg has always been like a brother to me. So, as a homage to my friend Greggy, here are a few pictures from my archives.

This was during a Peer Counseling Retreat, I think our senior year of high school. Gregg's the one trying to do "the hulk" on what looks like a Raggedy-Ann dress. We were doing karaoke, and I think this was during a musical interval. I'm the one with the orange sweat pants, with my back to the camera, doing the running man, I think:

And here is Gregg as Santa - I think it was for some fund-raiser. Me and my best friend, Pooh, are on his lap. I loved those yellow boots. I wore them everywhere:

And here we are, a group of us, the night before graduation. We wanted to camp out on the soccer field next to the school, but then it blizzarded. That's right. On, like, June 6th. So we slept in our cars. Gregg is on the far left, in a black jacket, and I'm sixth from the left, with my mouth open:

The summer right after graduation, we all kind of stuck around. Gregg and his friends were in this dumb little club called "Sigma Theta Gamma," which was code for "Shoot the Girls." They seriously had all these meetings and stuff. And they were supposed to hang out with me and my friends one night, and they totally ditched us for a stupid STG meeting. So we bought some plastic forks and put them in the lawn of whoever's house it was where they had the meeting (I think it was Gregg's), and we put a sign on the front stoop that said, "Fork you, STG!!"

So then, a few nights later, my friends and I were all at my house, and these guys somehow got ahold of boxes and boxes of old bean burritos, and they actually burritoed my house. Put these moldy old frozen burritos in my mailbox, on my roof, smeared them into the bricks on my house... Oh, it was Go Time.

My dad is an accountant, and they have to shred a lot of documents, so my friends and I shredded several, several huge bags of paper, planning to dump them on Gregg's lawn. We stored them in my friend, Emily's, van, and had a sleepover at my other friend, Lindsey's, house. Well, a third friend's brother totally was a spy for STG, and they came over and stole the bags out of Em's van (she had forgotten to lock it), and then dumped the shredded paper all over mine and Lindsey's yards that night. It took, like, four hours to clean Linds's lawn, and four hours to clean my lawn:

This is the kind of stuff we do for fun in Idaho, folks. We don't have Disneyland or Universal Studios or Sea World. We have toilet papering, camping in cars in June, and hookey-bobbing.

I think Gregg went on his mission maybe after freshman year of college. Yeah, that's right. So we continued to hang out, because we both went to Ricks. My maiden name is the same as his last name, and we decided to pretend that we were twins. We had Gregg's roommates completely convinced of this. We had all the answers memorized - when our birthday was, who our parents were, who was oldest, etc. His roommates used to browbeat Gregg for not visiting his twin more often. :) Here is Gregg at a Mary Kay party at my apartment. I don't think he did the makeup part, but I'm pretty sure he did the three-step cleansing, astringent, and moisturizer part. You know which one is Gregg, I think, and I'm the one in the brown shirt with my eyes totally closed. My friends, Pooh, Lindsey, Cecily, and Rachel were all there. Good times:

So congrats, Gregg! I'm so happy that my twin is happily settled down! :)

Failure to Thrive, Part 2

Well, I promised you guys an update on the Micah situation. When we went to the doctor on Monday, Micah had only gained three ounces in a week. Bad. :( The doctor said that the blood tests and stool test didn't show any problems, which is really good. He's going to have me keep a log for two weeks, and then see him again and fork over another $25 co-pay. "I don't know what's wrong with him - can I have $25, please?" Nothing against Dr. Groberg. It's just that a $25 co-pay once a week is pretty tough for us. But we'll do whatever it takes to make Micah well.

My mom bought us a bottle/nipple combination called Dr. Brown's. The nipple is the softest nipple I have ever felt. And it has this funky ventilation thing inside to help eliminate the ingestion of bubbles. For the first couple of days, he was actually drinking 6 ounces per feeding, which is exactly what we want. But over the last couple of days, he has been meandering back down to his usual three ounces. The lazy butt. :) I truly, truly think this is all a weak sucking issue. I'm going to maybe try that bottle that my friend Anjie told me about - she had a baby with a weak suck reflex, and she had the bottle where the milk is in a bag, and she would squeeze the bag, letting milk into her baby's mouth. So I might give that a shot. I'll keep you updated.

White Star

Dude, this was sooo long ago. Sorry! I'm trying... Anyways, Lexi called me up one day and said, "Hey, a couple of my friends from Cedar City are in this play, and they're performing in I.F. tonight. Wanna go?" I'm always up for doing fun stuff, so of course I said yes. Hmmm. I still need to pay Lex back for my ticket. I'll pay you when I get paid Monday, Lex. Sorry. :) I suck.

So it was the three sisters who are in town (we miss you, Beads!) and my grandpa. Gramps loves anything musical or performance-related. Well, he hates techno music. But he's cool with everything else. So we brought him along. He's so cute.

So the play is called White Star, and it's like the sequel to Saturday's Warrior. And so what they do with this is they perform a very pared-down version of Saturday's Warrior - you know, the main songs, plus a quick narration by Pam, who is the twin who dies at the end of Saturday's Warrior. Sorry if I just spoiled it for you. But seriously. It's been out for 35 years. If you haven't seen it yet, are you going to? Probably not. And White Star picks up the storyline like 20 years later. The singers were really incredible, and the acting was very authentic. Lexi hung out and chatted with her friends after the show, and they said that it drains them so much, because they have to cry a lot during the course of the show. I don't know how they can do that. I did drama in high school, and I had to rub Vicks into my eyes to cry onstage. Seriously. I just couldn't do it!! So anyone who can act and cry is tops to me.

White Star was really neat, because it talks a lot about the afterlife, and being together again with family members who have died, and meeting your ancestors. I like thinking about stuff like that.

Funny story - Grandpa is hard of hearing, and at intermission, Lexi says to him, "So, Gramps, what do you think? Do you like it?"

Grandpa: "Yes, I like it a lot."

Lexi: "Do you understand what's going on in the show? Can you hear what they're saying?"

Gramps: "Not a damn word."

He is hilarious. Love that guy.

Fantasy Football

Okay. So my sister, Brianna, and her husband, Spencer, are really into sports, especially football. And they like to do this thing called Fantasy Football. Something about choosing who you would pick for your fantasy football team, and then you use stats to see if your team "does well" this year. I don't know. Whatever. So they have this draft, and Brianna and Spence each have their own teams, but only one computer. So she asked me if she could call me tonight and have me sign in as her, and then help her "draft" her players.

It was fun at first, but it got boring after awhile. And I realized that there was this dialogue box, where you can, like, instant message other people who are drafting their fantasy football teams. Spence has three or four other friends in this fantasy football grouping thingey. I've met a couple of them, just briefly, and because I was sooo bored, I started instant messaging these dudes. It was soooooooooooo funny; I was laughing so hard, because I can just see these guys going, "What is Brianna DOING??" while I typed jibberish into the dialogue box.

Below is the transcript I just copied from the instant message dialogue box. Spencer's team is the Buffalo Wings (funny, huh?) and Brianna's team is the White Tigers. At the beginning, they're just messaging back and forth about their picks, blah blah blah. And then you'll see me start to add my two cents. Every time "White Tigers" wrote something, it was me. :)

Buffalo Wings: who's here?
White Tigers: Me.
The Untouchables: I'm here
Sacramento Surge: Me too
Necessary Roughness: no AP for spencer?
Necessary Roughness: dave has to take Jackson
The Untouchables: Surprise!
Necessary Roughness: i've got the #1 pick in the work draft tomorrow. we used the gold medal basketball game to decide the order
Necessary Roughness: booo
Necessary Roughness: bias
Necessary Roughness: insider info
The Untouchables: Taking risks
Necessary Roughness: raider fan taking a bronco...wrong...just wrong
Buffalo Wings: dave?
Necessary Roughness: nice pick dave
Necessary Roughness: i wanted them
The Untouchables: Sorry I took so long
The Untouchables: It was down to San Diego or them
Necessary Roughness: san diego wont be the same with merriman slowed
The Untouchables: True
Necessary Roughness: he was just on top of my queue spencer
White Tigers: I love queues. They are awesome.
White Tigers: I used to queue up to buy kebabs.
White Tigers: Kebabs are yummy.
White Tigers: Do you know how to pronounce kebab? Ka-baaab.
White Tigers: Kind of like "lab" or "stab."
White Tigers: Or "grab."
Necessary Roughness: is that jets or giants spencer?
White Tigers: The Jets was a great eighties band.
White Tigers: So was They Might be Giants.
White Tigers: When you're a Jet, you're a Jet all the way from your first cigarette 'til your last dying day.
White Tigers: When you're a Jet, let 'em do what they can. You've got brothers around; you're a family man!
White Tigers: The Jets were LDS.
White Tigers: And very smiley.
Necessary Roughness: Buffalo Wings has selected Trent Edwards
White Tigers: You've got it all... over him....
The Untouchables: I see a pattern in Spencer's picks
Necessary Roughness: Buffalo Wings has selected JP Losman...because he likes people name JP
White Tigers: Have you ever sewn using a pattern? It's tough stuff.
White Tigers: I'm a crappy seamstress. How about you, Necessary Roughness? Do you like to sew?
The Untouchables: Yes he does
Necessary Roughness: can't say i do....
White Tigers: Don't try to deny it.
White Tigers: I'll bet you're sewing a really pretty jumpsuit right now.
Necessary Roughness: did you take your meds today?
White Tigers: Yes, lots and lots of them.
White Tigers: Just kidding. This is Brianna's sister. :)
Necessary Roughness: where is bri?
White Tigers: Um, duh. New YORK.
Necessary Roughness: isn't curtis out at least half the season dave?
White Tigers: Yes, Curtis got into a tragic sewing accident.

Oh, I had so much fun messing with these guys. I'm sure I'm the only one who thought it was funny. I'm my own best audience.

Ward Luau

There is the cutest Samoan family in our ward, and they kind of spearheaded a little ward luau about a month ago or so. Here's me, pretending to be Mauri:

The BYU-Idaho Polynesian Dance Team performed for the luau, and they were so much fun to watch. There was one guy in particular that made me laugh SO HARD. One of my Laurels, Whitney, took my camera and was videotaping some of the dances, and she got this dude as his little skirt thing was falling off - don't worry - he was wearing little boxer briefs underneath:

And here's a slideshow:

Kar in the Eighties

One of my old friends started a group on Facebook for our ward growing up. She asked me to add some photos to this group's online album, so I scanned a few. I thought it might be fun to post the pictures here.

Here's my very first t-ball team, the Strawberry Shortcakes:

I'm on the top row, third girl from the left.

This is my class picture from my first year at Longfellow - 3rd grade:

I am on the second-to-top row, fifth person from the left. That dress was the dress I wore to my baptism. I loved it!! Some of my bloggy friends will find themselves in the above picture. :)

The following picture is from the Longfellow Talent show, at the end of my third grade year:

My next-door neighbor, Melissa, who was two years older than me, talked me into singing "The Rose," that cheesy Bette Midler song, with her. I was so nervous that I thought I would pass out. I really, really hate singing in front of people, to this day. I'm the one in the burgandy skirt.

This is my fourth grade "group shot." Some dork had a bright idea to just put everyone's individual pictures in a collage, and call it a "group shot." Duh:

I'm on the third row from the bottom, third person from the left.

And this is Halloween during my fourth grade year. I was Charlie Chaplin, the one on the right:

Dylan just saw this picture and said, "Mom, why did you dwess like a man for Halloween??" Like it's the weirdest idea he has ever heard of. :)

Toddler Twins

So I promised you I'd provide toddler pictures of Natalie, to show you how much she used to look like Troy looks right now. Here are two that I found, just in my own stashes:

And here are the best two I could find of Troy. He has the same deadpan look Nat used to give to the camera in this first one:

Country Crock

The other day, I was gathering all the toys that the neighbor kids had left on my front and back lawn, chucking them unceremoniously on their own dang lawn, when I noticed the youngest girl (Dylan's age) on her front porch stoop. I realized that she was spreading Country Crock all over her front railings with a plastic butter knife. I started cracking up. I didn't tell her mom, nor did I exhort her to stop what she was doing. I figure, if her mom pays that little attention to her children, she deserves to have to clean Country Crock off her front porch railings.

Disclaimer

I would just like to say that, in the new picture header, I am not suffocating my child. I was holding a binkie in his mouth, but not paying close enough attention. My child is alive, I promise!

Failure to Thrive

Micah is three months old today, and... well... he looks like a one-month-old. I've had my suspicions the past few months that things aren't that great for him - his cousin, who is only two weeks older, is nice and chunky. And she's like a sack of potatoes. Kind of hunched over. That's a good thing. That's what we want. But Micah continues to be very skinny, and he arches his back like crazy.

My suspicions were confirmed when we went in for his two month check-up a couple of weeks ago (he was technically 2 1/2 months, but we couldn't afford a co-pay until I got paid again). The doctor weighed him, and he only weighed 10 1/2 pounds. He is supposed to be at least 13 pounds right now!! And our family doctor was also concerned with Micah's ability to hold his head. He wondered if there was something wrong with his stomach, or if Micah is developmentally lagging in some way. He sent us to a pediatrician, armed with a piece of paper that said Micah is Failing to Thrive. A harsh term.

We saw this pediatrician last Monday. Micah had only gained three ounces in the week since he had seen our family doctor. The doctor asked me lots of questions, one of which being how often we feed Micah and how much he drinks. The answer is that he eats six times in a 24-hour period, and he only eats about three ounces at each feeding. Well, the pediatrician did some math and said, "Micah should be drinking 34 ounces per 24 hours, and if what you say is true, he's only getting in 18 ounces a day." I had wondered if Micah was drinking enough. It actually takes me an hour to get him to drink a 3-ounce bottle, and I have to work the whole time, keeping him awake and alert, jigging the bottle in his mouth to wake him up, exposing his skinny legs to the cold air-conditioning, saying, "Hey, buddy, wake up! Wake up!", burping him often, changing his diaper, anything to get him to stay awake and drinking. He always falls asleep while eating. Always. And he doesn't have a very strong suck. We've tried different nipples with different flows, etc., but nothing has helped him take in any extra food.

So for this past week, the doctor has had me keep a log of when he eats, how much he eats, and if he has urinated or had a bowel movement. Micah's bowel movements are always very, very watery, and the doctor wonders if Micah has some kind of gastro-intestinal issue, or if he's not absorbing enough. So a nurse there had to draw some blood, to test and see if there's something going on, and I had to bring in a stool sample when Micah pooped. We'll find out Monday if there were any results from that data.

The doctor suggested maybe adding two more feedings, doing them in the middle of the night, and I'm ashamed to admit that I haven't been very good about that. It took us a lot of work to get to the point where Micah sleeps through the night, and I worry about making it a habit for him to eat twice in the night again. I tried it one night, and he only ate one ounce per feeding, and I was a zombie the next day. So I didn't do it any more. And maybe I should have, just to really show the doctor that's not a very good idea.

So I don't know. Maybe there's a formula out there that is higher-calorie, or something. Also, we have the Infant/Toddler program involved. An occupational therapist came out on Thursday and observed Micah eating and playing, and she said that she thinks he has a sucking issue, and that he arches his back wayyyy too much. She gave me all these excercises to help him relax that back of his. She thinks his head control is just fine; it's just that he arches so much that it's hard for him to keep his head upright when he's practically doing a backbend all the time. She is going back to the Infant/Toddler coordinators, to recommend that Micah receive occupational therapy. And apparently she's going to do some kind of... exercises to help him strengthen his suck. In addition to these exercises for his back, I also have to do infant massage a few times a day, which Micah totally hates!!

So it's been a busy, frustrating time. And I never, ever know what to do. Hopefully we'll get some things figured out. A different lady from Infant/Toddler is coming out to assess Micah developmentally, to see if there are some other difficulties, with how his brain functions. I'll let you guys know when we find out more.

I feel like such a bad mom.

On my Recent Weight Loss...

I've had a lot of people compliment me on how I look lately, and I've had a lot of people ask me what my secret is.

My secret is: barf a few times a day for nine months.

I was extremely, extremely sick during my pregnancy with Micah. I barfed up a lot of what I ate, and I felt so gross that I didn't have much of an appetite. That whole "You only barf the first few months" is such a lie for many of us. And actually, I barfed equally and felt equally gross with my other two pregnancies, but I always still managed to gain about 30 pounds with each one of those. With Micah, I only gained 9 pounds. I can't tell a difference in the way I felt. I mean, my pregnancy with Micah sometimes seemed to be worse than with Dylan and Sadie, but I distinctly remember being very, very miserable in those pregnancies, too. So I'm not sure what the deal was this time around.

Micah was a normal weight when born - seven pounds - and very healthy. And I had a placenta, obviously, and my bag of waters seemed normal. So, if you do the math, that means that I lost a lot of my own body fat. I'm not going to lie - I love the results. I'm 20 pounds lighter than I was when I got pregnant with Micah. It came at a dear price, but I'm enjoying the payoff for now.

Like I said, I have thyroid disease, and I have to get my blood checked a couple of times a year to make sure my levels are good. They had to give me more micrograms when I was pregnant, just to level things out. I need to get my blood tested again, because I may very well be taking too high of a dosage, since I am no longer pregnant. The thing is - I think it's my heightened thyroid medication that's keeping me skinny. That's one of the things about thyroid medicine. When I first found out I had hypothyroidism and was given medicine, I immediately dropped 15 pounds. All of my friends in San Diego were like, "Dang. Maybe I should have my blood tested, too... I wish I had a thyroid problem..." :) Don't worry; I won't let it go for too much longer without getting tested. It's nice being skinny, but it's also nice to have a good hormonal balance.

I've also been jogging every day, and I know without a doubt that running makes my weight stay off better than any other exercise. Do I like it? Heck, no. But I like the way it makes me feel. Honestly, even if I end up gaining weight again, as long as I'm still jogging every day, I won't care. Because it raises my endorphins, it makes me feel really good about myself for doing something for me and only me, and it's good for my heart. Heart disease is the number one killer among women, right? So it's good to do something for my heart. Really, there are lots of benefits to jogging, besides losing weight.

I definitely, definitely like the smaller me better - who wouldn't? I really need to watch what I eat better, though, or I know I'll start to probably plump up again.

Ffffffuuuuuuddddgggggeeeee...

Well, it's happened. Dylan, unfortunately, heard the F bomb from a neighbor kid. It's not the immediate neighbors, who I have blogged/complained about. It's a neighbor who lives farther down the street, one who I have actually liked a lot, until today.

This kid is four, one year younger than Dylan. He lives with his 20-year-old mom, his two younger sisters, his single grandma, and his great-grandparents, all in one house. His name is Breckin. He is very, very shy around adults. It's not uncommon for him to stare at me when I ask him a question or talk to him. He just stares. He's kind of short and stout, with lots of baby fat on his cheeks. He has been riding a bike, sans training wheels, for a whole year now (Dude, I didn't learn to ride my bike until I was seven, because I was a big fat wus). He looks sooo young. To look at him, you would seriously think he was Sadie's age. So, until I knew his real first name, I started referring to him as "Baby on a Bike." Now my mom, sisters, etc. all refer to him as "Baby on a Bike." It's kind of funny.

Anyways, last night, Ben took Dylan with him to go to the office and pick up something he forgot there.

Dylan goes, "Breckin taught me a new bad word yesterday."

Ben, frowning, said, "What word is it?"

Dylan full on goes, "F you." (But not saying the letter "f." Saying the actual, horrible word.)

Ben, without a word, turned around and smacked Dylan. And he told Dylan that he was never, ever to play with Breckin again. Dylan cried and cried, and I feel bad for him, honestly. So we had a talk this morning, the three of us. We told him that, if we ever heard him saying that word again, he would get his mouth washed out with soap. And we told him to tell Breckin not to use that word ever, ever again.

Lexi thinks I should go talk to Breckin's mom. What do you guys think? I'm not sure what to do. I'm sure Breckin learned it from his mom, probably arguing with her boyfriend, who has sired all three of her children but doesn't live with them. I'm terrified that Dylan will let that word slip when he is in Kindergarten, starting next week. Dylan gets angry often, and he yells mean things when he's mad.

I'm not saying that I'm perfect. I'll be honest - when I hurt myself (and I hurt myself a lot, because I'm a clutz), sometimes the S-word comes flying out of my mouth. And I feel really bad about that, and I'm trying so hard to work on it. And, occasionally, when Dylan is really mad about something, the S-word comes out. When that happens, we have a talk about how it's a bad word, and that I'm bad for saying it, and that he shouldn't say it, either. "Do what I say, not what I do." I know it's hypocritical. So I'm not infallible, not by any means. But I find the F-word soooo offensive. And I'm pretty certain his Kindergarten teacher would find it offensive, too. Maybe I'll pull her aside the first day of school and tell her he learned this word from a neighbor, so if it comes flying out, it's not my fault. :)

So there it is. Another blip in my attempts to raise decent children. Sigh.

Wiping

The other day, Sadie went potty, and when I heard the flush, I called out, "Sadie, did you wipe your bumb?"

"Yes. I wipe my pee-pee, too."

You see, I have a really, really hard time saying the word.... penis. Maybe it's from growing up in a family of girls or something. So when we need to refer to it in our house, we've always called it the "pee-pee." When Dylan wakes up in the morning, he often complains about his pee-pee "pointing up." I always tell him to leave it alone, and it will stop pointing up.

So I realized, when we had this conversation, that we needed to refer to Sadie's... frontal area... as a different thing from a pee-pee. So we started calling it a "front bumb." The term "front bumb goes a long way back - my sisters and I used to call it that. So now, if Sadie needs to talk about that area, which isn't very often, she calls it a Front Bumb. So does Dylan. Will they get made fun of later? Probably.

Shake You Boobs

The other day, the kids and I were watching The Little Mermaid, more particularly the part where Ursula is singing "Poor Unfortunate Souls." There's a part where she shimmies, and her boobs jiggle.

Dylan laughs and goes, "She shook her boobs."

I chuckled and said, "Yeah, she sure did."

And he goes, "Mommy, do you like to shake you boobs?"

"Um, NO. I do not like to shake my boobs."

"Oh."

Mommy Hair, Part 2

Well, the whole "Mommy Hair" thing is still a large part of our lexicon in my house. Sadie is scared of my hairs. She isn't scared of hers. And I never see Dylan's hairs or Ben's hairs around. But something about the thick, long, dark brown strands of hair sends her into hysterics.

The situation is getting more and more dire, because I'm shedding more than ever. I think it might be a post-pardem thing. Even though Micah is 3 months old today. Or maybe it's a thyroid thing. I've had thyroid disease for the past few years - shedding like crazy is one sign your thyroid is off. I really should get my blood tested soon.

When I shower and wash my hair, I end up getting tons of strands caught in my fingers, which bugs me, so I kind of rub all the hairs into one clump and stick them on the shower wall. I know it's gross. I have to do the clump-and-stick maneuver several times in the course of one shower, but I do remember to get a kleenex and wipe them all up and throw them in the garbage when I'm done showering. Well, one day I forgot to remove the offending hairs. I was at work, and Ben was bathing the kids, and he saw the clumps of hair on the shower wall, so just for kicks, and because he is a merciless teaser, he threw a clump into the tub, shouting, "Ahhhh! A mommy hair! A mommy hair!!" And Sadie, apparently, started screaming bloody murder and crying hysterically. Sigh. Good ole' Ben.

A recent development in the Mommy Hair Saga is that it has become the ultimate insult:

Dylan: Sadie, you are a Mommy Hair!!

Sadie: No I not. YOU a Mommy Hair!!

It's nice that my children find my hair so very disgusting.

Troy's Birthday

Troy's birthday was actually before Jake's, but on his birthday, my camera's battery died, rendering me picture-less. So I stole the following pictures from Nat's blog. Troy turned two at the beginning of this month. He is such a crack-up. I love this kid. He is really friendly and really brave. Nothing scares him. And he looks like a carbon copy of Nat. I have to scan some pictures later on today, so while I'm in scanning mode, I may scan a picture of Nat at age two, and you'll see that they're, like, toddler twins. So here is the birthday boy:

And here are me, Sadie, and Dylan, chatting with Lex, my youngest sister, who seriously always looks like a model:

I, continuing with the whole "I'm lame" theme, had totally forgotten about Troy's party. We had just gotten back from a weekend in Yellowstone, and it had completely disappeared from my mind. Nat calls about half an hour into the party, going, "Um, are you guys coming...?" "Holy crap! We're leaving right now!" I yelled. I'm so forgetful these days. Having children renders one forgetful and shedding. I am the shed-meister lately. It's exacerbating the whole "mommy hair" terror in Sadie. But I'll save that for a later post. And the Yellowstone trip. I promise I'm getting caught up.

Butthead

A conversation with my kids in the car the other day:

Dylan: Sadie, stop pulling my hair!!
Sadie: I not pulling you hair.
Dylan: Mo-om, Sadie's pulling my hair.
Me: Sadie, stop pulling Dylan's hair.
Sadie: Otay.
(an infinitesimal pause)
Sadie: [to Dylan] You stupid.
Dylan: No I'm not stupid!! You're stupid!
Me: Stop calling each other stupid.
Sadie: [to Dylan] You a butthead.
Dylan: Mo-om, Sadie called me a butthead!!
Sadie: [considering, then slowly grinning] You a butthead, and I a butthead!
Dylan: Mo-om, Sadie just called herself a butthead...

Allergic

Today I was stirring together a marinade to put some London broil in, and Dylan goes, "What do I smell?" (That is classic Dylan. He is always, always asking me what he smells.)

I said, "You probably smell this marinade."

He goes, "What are we having for dinner?"

"Teriyaki."

(A pause.) "Mom, I'm allergic to teriyaki. I won't be able to eat tonight."

Uh-huh.

Ronald McDonald's Tombstone

I totally forgot to tell you about this! When we were in Salt Lake City for Ben's grandpa's funeral, Dylan got such a kick out of the tombstones. He would ask me, as we walked around, what the name on each tombstone was. So we came up to one, and he asked me what the name was, and I said, "McDonald." His eyes widened, and he said, "Ronald McDonald is buried in there??"

That's Why.

Dylan can't figure out how to use the word "because." If I ask him a question, like, "Why are you crying?" He'll say, "That's why Sadie hit me with her toy plane," instead of "Because Sadie hit me with her toy plane." Or if I say, "Why did you just jump off the couch?" He'll say, "That's why I'm a character from Ben 10 Alien Force," instead of "Because I'm a character from Ben 10 Alien Force."

Today, I asked why he wanted to get home so quickly (we were driving home from a WIC appointment - incidentally, we "make too much money" to be eligible for WIC - we make exactly $100 per month too much. Grrrrr...), and he said, "That's why." So I guess he was trying to say, "Because." No other reason. Just because.

Jake's Family Party

I am an enormous winner and forgot to post pictures from Jake's family party, a few hours after his friend party. Nat figured everyone had gotten "caked out," so she made No-Bake Cookies. Yummmmm. And it was just the fam. Lots of fun. Jake is hilarious. I love my nephews and neices.

Jake got a bunch of Iron Man toys, of course, and at one point, Pete said, "Kar, what does this picture look like to you?":

Apparently it's a sword thing that comes out of his arm, but Pete thought it looked like something else. :)

Here's a slideshow:

Roaring (River?) Youth Jam

What a cute little girl I have.

We went to this thing called the Roaring (River?) Youth Jam a couple of weeks ago. I thought it was called the Roaring Youth Jam, but that doesn't really make much sense. Or maybe it does, when you consider how loud my kids are. But the activities are by the river, so I think Roaring RIVER Youth Jam is its name. It's a fun little... arts and crafts kind of fair thingey. There are tons and tons of booths where the kids can experiment with different kinds of arts and crafts. I would have loved to have gone to this thing when I was a kid. I've always been into arts and crafts. The kids had a good time, but even with Mom there to help, having all three there was tough stuff. Both Dylan and Sadie need help, and Micah needs holding. So Mom and I were outnumbered. Nat and her kids and in-laws were there, too, but they had their own kids to deal with! So, mental note for next year, get a sitter for the youngest two.

Here's a slideshow:

Olympics Observations

My friend, Anjie, wrote down some of her observations about the Olympics on her blog, and I just had to copy her and write down some observations of my own:

1. Nastia is an unfortunate name. Even though it's Russian. It's like saying "Nasty. Uh."

2. Is that Chinese gymnast REALLY sixteen? Really?

3. Women swimmers and men swimmers look the. exact. same. as. each. other. Flat boobs, enormous back muscles. You can look at a swimmer and not know which gender the swimmer is.

4. I'm with Anjie on this one - the gymnasts wear way too many barrettes. Have these people ever heard of Dippity-Do?

5. I want the body of a female beach volleyball athlete. Dang.

6. I can't believe that the winner of the 100-meter hurdles had enormous boobs. You would think those would get in the way, but nope. She won!

7. Does gymnastics stunt growth?

8. Australian basketball players have Emo Hair.

9. I have a high forehead, like Nasty. Uh. If I was her, I would find a more flattering way of pulling my hair back.

10. Have you seen that tall Jamaican sprinter? How is it possible to set a world record and just appear to be jogging, when all the sprinters around you are running as hard as they can? Incredible!!

Pioneer Day

I miss Pioneer Day in Utah - it's always such a huge deal. Lots of fireworks and barbecues. And I miss it. Our stake here did have a Pioneer Day celebration, though, and we decided to go. Free food is always nice. :) We couldn't stay long, because I had to get to work, but we had fun in the limited time we were there. My cousin, Brandon, was there, with his family. I had no idea he is in my stake! So that was a nice surprise. We sat and ate and talked with them. Here's Ben with Micah:

Dylan:

And Sadie:

I Have OCD...

As in Obsessive Cullen Disorder. I just finished the fourth book in the Twilight series...

...and may I say that this series touched me as no book has since...Escape. Or Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. I have read a lot of duds in the intervening months, and I fully expected Twilight to be a dud, but I was completely sucked in. I read all four books in about one week. Which is why I haven't posted many comments on my friends' blogs lately (sorry. I will catch up, I promise). I'm totally and completely in love with Edward and with Jacob. And with their mythological world. And I'm in love with... love. Reading about the love between Bella and Edward just made me a little teary-eyed (I'm a little teary-eyed as I'm typing this), and it made me hug my husband a little tighter and longer when he came home from work. Love is such a gift, and I worry that, with all the stresses and worries of having a small family and a limited budget (I borrowed the books, of course, but would love to own them someday), I have let my undying love for my beautiful husband lie fallow sometimes. I remember when our love was new and passionate, and I find myself ashamed that the passion has fallen through the cracks. I'm going to really have to start working on that.

And I don't know what is WRONG with me. Books really, really affect me. Probably more than movies. I often laugh out loud or start sobbing when I read. I remember when I was reading a book when I was seven years old. I was sitting on the couch in the living room of our rental apartment, and I started crying (I have since forgotten the book. Probably Little House on the Prairie, or something), and Brianna toddled up to me and offered me her binkie, to help me stop crying. So sweet. And often, when I finish a book, I feel soooooo lost and sad. I actually miss the characters. And wish they were real and were my friends. When I finished reading I Capture the Castle, I started bawling, because I missed the characters, and I knew it was over. I knew I could read the book over and over again, but it's never the same. Except for when you're reading the Harry Potter series, perhaps. :) So I am a weird loser who is totally sad and lost, now that my Edward and Jacob have finished their saga.

However, I do have the movie to look forward to:

And I cannot freakin' wait! They have that cute dude that played Cedric Diggory playing Edward. He is soooooo cute. I just watched the movie trailer:

...and my heart started seriously beating sooo hard. This is exactly what it felt like to have a crush in high school. I am such a nerd!! I'm going to the movie with my Laurel girls, and we are totally going to dress up. I need to decide who I want to dress up as. Maybe Leah, the only girl werewolf. Or maybe Jane, the sadistic vampire. I cannot WAIT!!

Now, for those of you who are skeptical of the series, especially if you didn't like the first book, give the second book a shot; I promise you won't regret it. The first book was kind of slow at first, and I wasn't going to continue the series; but then the last one-fourth whooshed me away in the action, and I had to keep reading!! The second and third books are nothing but action, action, action. The fourth book was kind of... different. But a good resolution for all the characters. On the whole, I'm really, really glad I read it.