Mysterious

So I try to prepare the girls for the day by telling them we are going to the store this morning. (Perhaps it is for my own mental preparation as much as it is for theirs.) Anyway...crab, crab, cry, cry, "we don't want to get dressed!" and a few minutes later I change my mind and decide to go to the store later on when the daddy is home. About 45 minutes later I tell them that we are not going to the store, and they cry about that. I just can't win.

Designer Genes

Turns out these apples didn't fall so far from the tree after all.

Foodies at Heart?

After reviewing the following pictures, I have come to the conclusion that my kids like to eat. Just as long as it's not dinner.

Yup, turns out this is all they want to at do at dinnertime.

Forget About It

So, at one point, I thought it would be incredibly cool to reach 100 posts on the blog before the end of the year...you know, to show the world that I am capable of accomplishing something cool. (Sorry, world, there isn't much more than this that I have to offer. Sad, huh?) Anyway, seeing as how it's December 8 and seeing as how I only have 64 posts so far this year, I guess I won't be able to prove my coolness to the world after all. But the fact that I am blogging instead of doing a much needed homework assignment still proves my dedication to the blog, and to my faithful followers, right? Okay, good. Now I don't feel like such a loser.

En Garde!

The other day while I was making dinner, J pulled out two mini-sword letter openers for her and Savanna to play with.

Me: Honey, put those back, you know you're not allowed to play with them.

J: (Exasperated sigh.) But...mom...we're not gonna kill anyone!

Because that's exactly what I was afraid of...

Some Things to Consider While Traveling with Children

We are back from our wonderful Thanksgiving holiday and the experience has made me think about just a few things. Last time we traveled with two children by airplane, one was still nursing and would fall asleep in public, and I wasn't 7 months pregnant. Take away nursing baby and add in a sizeable pregnant belly, and things change just a bit. Anyway, here are some things I've learned.

*Magazines for me to read on the plane: laughable. I should have used that space for snacks.

*Apparently a 3 1/2 hour flight does not warrant snacks provided by the airline. (Though, if you're lucky, you might get a whole soda.)

*If you are pregnant, it doesn't matter how many times you use the bathroom before boarding the aircraft. You will still have to pee at least twice on the airplane.

*It doesn't matter which kid you bring an extra change of clothes for; the other one will end up needing it.

*Bring as many coloring books as you see fit, but your two-year-old will probably be more interested in buckling/unbuckling her seat belt for the duration of the flight.

*Airline security: designed to embarrass and infuriate those traveling with small children.

*Barf bags: perfectly designed to hold 1 pair of pee-pee pants, size 5T...and none of the moisture leaks through.

*The "recline" position of an airplane seat: an unfunny joke, both for the person trying to recline, and for the person sitting behind the person trying to recline.

*Somehow the contents of your carry-on items will multiply exponentially during flight, making it impossible to fit everything back in the way it was.

*If you take long enough to get to baggage claim, all of your items will be stowed nicely in a pile waiting for you to come claim them...no waiting involved.

*In an airport, the words "no running" to a 2- and 4-year-old actually translate into "please run as fast as you can, and also make sure that you don't watch where you're going so that you come as close as possible to crashing into someone."

*Personal space: non-existent in flight.

Okay, I'm sure there's more, but this is all I can think of for now. Even after reviewing the list with its accompanying feelings of stress and panic, though, I still have to say that the opportunity for our kids have two Thanksgivings with 2 grandparents, 4 great-grandparents, 3 great-aunts, 5 great-uncles and 2 second cousins, was surprisingly worth the effort...we just won't do it again for a while.

What they do when (they think) I'm not looking

Of course, this is only what happens when they think I'm not looking. When I'm actually not looking, it's much, much worse.

Oh, yeah...

Sorry, everyone, in my mad dash towards Thanksgiving and Christmas, I sorta forgot about Halloween. Well, here's the proof that we celebrated. Heck, we even took our kids trick or treating for the first time. Sadly, now, all of the good candy is gone, and all that is left are the memories...and dum dums.

At Craig's work party with the GCU "Cantaloupe."

Not a great pic, but apparently one of the only ones documenting the trick or treating act.

One cheerleader, minus the pom poms

that I carried in my purse all night.

Mom-o-lantern

Getting geared up for the ward party.

Cotton candy for the serious connoisseur.

Savanna plus one bar of chocolate equals pure delight.

From the Monson Family Test Kitchen

Savanna’s Recipe for Disaster*

2 tsp. vanilla
3 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. ground mustard
1-.8 oz. container of ground ginger
1-4 oz. container of cinnamon
1 oz. bubble solution
6 T. Knorr chicken bouillon granules
4 T paprika
8 T parsley flakes
87 toothpicks
sprinkles

Directions: Go downstairs for an orange. Get distracted, skip the orange idea and decide to climb onto the countertop; then start pulling everything out of the closest cupboard. Spill bubble solution onto the countertop and then climb across the stove to the spice cupboard. On the way, knock down the frying pan from the stove onto the floor and dent it. Empty the spice cupboard. Pour all ingredients into a teapot; top with sprinkles. Wait for mommy to find you. For best results, spill paprika all over your pants, take them off, and then poop in your diaper while sitting on the counter. Serves 12.

*measurements are approximate.

the ingredients you will need

the process

this is what the finished product should look like

Laughing Out Loud

Okay, so most of you guys know that I at least try to use this blog for a little bit more than just stories about and/or pictures of my kids...you know, like letters to the neighbor's dog and stuff. Anyway, that being said, today is going to have to be a kid day. Because not only are my children adorable and practically perfect, (*wink wink*) they are also hilarious. Allow me to demonstrate.

On Monday, we made an impromptu visit to Daddy's work after J's flu mist only doctor's visit turned into a well-visit with 3 unplanned and very tortuous shots. (Yes, all of our talk about a simple spray up the nose and No Shots went straight out the window.) Since my sweet honey is just about as perfect and adorable as the girls, he left work for a few minutes so we could take the girls to a park and allow J to be comforted appropriately. Sadly, after good times at the park, we had to take him back to work. (My persuasions for him to leave work early went unheeded; Craig kindly reminded me that it was only 11 a.m. Whatever.) So as I was pulling away from the curb and we were waving goodbye, Savanna was a little appalled.

S: "Where's Daddy going?"

Me: "He's going back to work, sweetheart."

S: "Why?"

Me: "He has a job, honey."

S: "Why?"

Me: "He has to work."

S: "Oh! To buy me presents?!"

Only two years old, and she already knows the real reason that the men in our lives have jobs.

Fast forward about 20 minutes and we are almost home. As we pull up to the stoplight at Southern, a big truck hauling cows stops right next to us. I told the girls to look out the window at the cows and they are, of course, delighted. (The windows were up, so thankfully, no unexpected smells were wafting in.) Julia starts counting...

"One, two, three cows...and a Honkey!"

Hmmm. Well, the driver of the truck was a white guy. I know what you're thinking...closet racist, right? That might be true, but she actually just had a brain lapse and forgot the word donkey.

I laughed all the way home.

Another Note

Dear Summer,

Remember that time you started to go away and let your friend Fall take over? Yeah, it was really nice for a couple of days...I got out the pants and long sleeves, unshelved the tea pot and even ran the heater (once.) Then you thought it would be funny to butt back in line and make a little comeback, and here I am using the air again. Only, I'm not laughing. Just sweating and sad.

So...could you go away again? Don't worry, I'll be waiting here for you in 6 months with my bathing suit and sunscreen handy. Thanks a bunch.

Kind Regards,

Hot Pregnant Lady

Just a Note

Dear Neighbor's Dog,

Hi, it's me, the lady next door...you know, the one who you like to bark at while she empties the trash, or closes a window, or opens the back door, or breathes?

You may not know this, but your incessant barking is driving me crazy. There is often enough going on in my head in a given moment that any constant, outward noise is just about enough to put me over the edge. Especially when it echoes against the brick wall five feet from my home.

So...could you put a lid on it for a while? Thanks.

Kind Regards,

Neighbor Lady

Photography by Julia

Lately Julia has shown quite a talent for picture taking, so we are thinking of helping her open her own studio. Here is just a sneak peek of her impressive portfolio...if you are interested in making an appointment for a photography session with her, please contact me immediately as space is limited.

Happy Half-Birthday to Me!

That's right, folks, today's the day I turn 354 months old. (Sounds like a lot, huh? I am sure you are duly impressed. In human time that's 29 1/2 years.) You may not think a half birthday is a big deal, but since these are the last 6 months before I turn 20-10, I think I shoould live it up a little bit. Today we celebrated by going to see Toy Story 1 & 2 in 3-D. Tomorrow I am going to write myself a song, and on Wednesday I was thinking about climbing Mt. Everest.

Honestly the thought of turning 30 isn't terribly disconcerting. The weirdest part about it is that I still don't quite feel like a grown-up, even though as a youngster, I was pretty convinced that I'd feel totally ancient by now. Truth be told, though, I still don't feel like I really know anything. Maybe by the time 6 more months roll around, I will have figured more out about life.

I'll be sure to share all my pearls of wisdom at the surprise party that you guys throw for me in April.

Conference Weekend

Ah, General Conference...that blessed time twice a year when we listen to much-needed counsel from the leaders of the Church from the comfort of our own homes (preferably while eating cinnamon rolls and wearing our favorite pajamas.) I feel like I got a lot out of Conference this time around, specifically in the form of resolving to seek for better things in my life and to stretch myself to do more and be better in my every-day endeavors.

Conference is a trade-off of sorts. While it provides a kind of spiritual cleansing for the individual, I admit that it ironically simultaneously serves as a mini-disaster for the house. Since it requires 4 hours of adult attention to a television broadcast both Saturday and Sunday, munchkins tend to get away with much more than they otherwise might under normal circumstances. So while our spirits were refreshed, sensory experiences and adventure-mongering for the little ones were had in abundance, leaving our once-clean home looking like this:

That's okay, though, because I've come to realize that this is what Conference is all about: ignoring the children for hours at a time in an effort to become better parents...and that's okay.

Hired Help

So every now and then, when I fill the washing machine with too many clothes, I hire this cute little girl from the local village to help stomp the laundry down and make more room. She does such an amazing job, I keep calling her back!

So Long, Sucka--I Mean, Summer!

We moved to Phoenix in December. The weather was beautiful.

I will admit that shortly after we arrived, I found myself wondering what all the complaining about Phoenix's hot weather was about. Admittedly, we moved here in during the best season of the year. Even as the months went on, though, and things started warming up, I couldn't help but think that people were exaggerating about how hot the summers are here. March went by, then April...sure it was getting warmer, but nothing unbearable. The evenings were still cool, and weather in the 90s is definitely not the worst thing that can happen in the world.

May came and it got even warmer. Then June, then July.

Then I became a believer.

The summers here really are that hot. And it's a 24/7 hot, too, with no breaks, no cool nights, no refreshing wind. Just a stagnant, oppressive, constant heat that keeps your A/C running all the live-long day, and sends sweat trickling down your back just from walking across the room to plug in the vacuum.

6 months of summer, that is our sentence.

I must interject that I absolutely prefer heat to cold, and I really do love living here, despite the lengthy summers. Still, though...

I don't mind at all being the first to say a friendly adieu to swim diapers, bathing suits, sunscreen, sandwiches for dinner, ridiculous electric bills, yellow grass, shorts, swim lessons, and a 125 degree garage.

Hello again to cool nights, nice breezes, evenings outside, open windows, pumpkin-scented candles, baking, soup for dinner, driving with the windows down, closed-toe shoes, and yes, even...pants.

Here is the part of the year where friends and family are jealous of where we live.

So, as "fall" slowly descends here in the Valley, I am smiling...and just a tiny bit smug.

The Big Night

Well, after months of climbing out of the crib, we finally made the move...to the big girl bed. (When I say "we," I really just mean Savanna. Craig and I have been in a big girl bed for at least a year now.) Savanna was a star, so excited for her own bed, and she really only gets out of bed every night about as much as she got out of her crib. Not too shabby. Here's a little photo documentation of the big night. (A couple nights later, I went in to check on the girls and found Savanna asleep on the floor and her bed covered in books. Go figure.)

A Sad Day in Laveen

This past Saturday, we were enjoying some family bonding time by perusing neighborhood garage sales when we happened upon a Foreclosure Open House for a house with the exact same floorplan as our house. We decided to be brave and check it out, trying to prepare ourselves for the worst. Both Craig and I threw out some low numbers as to our guess of the home's value, hoping against hope, of course, that the house was actually (maybe, possibly) worth even more than what we were thinking.

So much for hoping.

The house was selling for $118,000, which was $7000 less than our lowest guesstimate.

I tried to comfort us by pointing out that the foreclosed house didn't have all of the same things as ours...no finished backyard, a half bath where we have a full bath, ugly kitchen cupboards, linoleum where we have tile, etc. Surely all of those things add up to a difference of about $137,000 in value, making our house worth what we paid for it, right?

Here's to more hoping.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UgJKRvgWTwA

The Numbers Game

The more I think about it, the more I realize that pregnancy and childbirth are little more than a numbers game. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that numbers are the only concrete thing that you can concentrate on until you actually get to meet the new little muffin. How many days since your last period, how many weeks along you are, how much weight you have gained, how many days until your next appointment suddenly changes into how many centimeters you are dilated, how many minutes apart your contractions are, and, for me anyway, how many hours it has been since you got induced. Insert birthing story here, and in a whirlwind your attention turns to how many pounds the baby is, how many fingers and toes she has, how many centimeters long she is, and even how big her head is.

Fast-forward a few days and you begin to realize that even child rearing has its share of important numbers. Now the focus becomes how many months old the baby is, what percentile she fits into, how many ounces she's eating and how much weight she is gaining.

The numbers game--I admit that I totally play into it; I think that most of us do. So, in honor of the monumental significance of numbers, I thought I'd let you guys in on some equally important yet lesser known numbers associated with this, my third pregnancy.

*How many times I've been pregnant: 3

*How many times I have been surprised at the Ultrasound findings: 1

*How many times I have thrown up this pregnancy: 0 (A modern-day miracle, I totally recognize.)

*How many bins of girls clothes I have saved in the past 4 years: 13 (Plus 2 full boxes of shoes.)

*How many boxes of diapers I have purchased in preparation for our new little bundle: 1

*How many Skittles I have eaten this pregnancy: 234 (An admittedly conservative estimate.)

*How many pairs of shorts I can fit into comfortably: 1

*How many days I have gotten through without putting sweat shorts on: 0

*How many meals I have avoided putting meat into because of a sensitive gag reflex: 6

*How many toes I can still see when I look down: 10

*How many times I have painted my toenails this pregnancy: 2

*How many belly buttons I have left: 0

*How many chins I have: 2

*How many times I have blow-dried and straightened my hair since I got pregnant: 1 (Thanks for noticing, JL and sweet husband.)

*How many times a night I wake up to pee: 2

*How many times a night I wake up on my back, despite my doctor's advice to the contrary: 4

*How many times a day nothing sounds good for lunch: 1

*How many days a week I contemplate not getting dressed at all: 6 (Only because it's less of an option on Sundays.)

*How many days a week I eat "second dinner" at 10:00 at night: 5

*How many days I have gone without a nap since I got pregnant: 3 (Another miracle, yes, I know.)

*How many times a day I ask one or both of my kids not to push on my tummy: 8

*How many times I have hula-hooped this pregnancy: 2 (Oh, yeah, still got it!)

*How many times I've gone maternity-clothes shopping: 2

*How many times a day I struggle to sit up: 7

*How many little girls I will have by 2010: 3

Well, there you have it, friends, just a tiny look into some of the obscure numbers that I can proudly claim as a part of this pregnancy of mine. If there is anything I have failed to mention about this pregnancy that you are dying to know about, just let me know...I'm sure there's a number for it.

Mommy, the Liar

My kids never believe anything I say, but I can't really blame them. By now, they know that "just a minute" actually means that they need to wait anywhere from 5 to 10 minutes, that "I'm on my way" really means that I am planning on doing 4 things before I even head in their general direction, and that "we'll talk about it tomorrow" is just a way to deflect a conversation centering on a topic about which they have no choice anyway. So it goes.

That being said, I really shouldn't be surprised when they have no reaction to me telling them "It's time to go." In our household those words have absolutely no meaning. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, one of them will put on shoes and then continue playing as if I haven't just said, "Okay, seriously, I am getting in the car right now." Truth be told, deep down, they really know that while I have every intention to leave right at that moment, inevitably I will run back in the house a minimum of three times to grab sippy cups, turn up the air conditioning, or to get some other forgotten yet vitally important object like my cell phone or sunglasses. (And let's not forget the once-a-week mad dash to switch the laundry after I have buckled them into their car seats.) Basically they have learned that if the car is not running and the garage is not open, mommy is not going anywhere.

My poor kids--they are destined to live life with a well-intentioned liar for a mommy...

Then again, I guess it's the only way I can get back at them for telling me "that looks uhsgusting" every night at dinner.

Garbage Disposal Lives!

First of all, thanks to everyone for the messages of support and condolence regarding the death of our beloved Garbage Disposal. It has helped us all through a difficult time.

The good news is that while performing a routine autopsy on G.D., Craig found that Garbage Disposal was not in fact deceased, but in a state of limbo. Apparently an errant dime found its way down the drain and stopped all of G.D.'s vital functions, leading us to believe that he had, in fact, expired, when truly he was just in a serious coma. Once the rusty, crusty dime was removed, G.D. sputtered back to life and resumed all former functions and duties. It was a miracle to witness, not unlike an episode of "House."

Welcome back, Garbage Disposal, we look forward to filling you with stinky food once again.

This is What Camping is All About

Here are finally some pictures from our wonderful August camping trip to Leo Carillo. We have been coming to this campground for family vacations since we were little, and it's been great to be able to bring our kids now, so we can implant some of those same fond memories into their young impressionable minds. (I will admit, though, that camping as kids was always much less stressful than camping with kids.) Our girls love it here, and this year, Julia started asking about our upcoming trip as early as January, thanks to "Dora, Summer Explorer." The campground is right across the PCH from the beach, and it's shady and woodsy and wonderful. Here's a little photo journal of the good times.

Craig took the girls to the beach for some daddy time one morning

so that I could stay and sleep in our hot tent.

This is about what my parents and Michael did while we were on the beach.

From left to right: napping, Sudoku, and reading.

Craig's sand creature with Cyndie and me in the background.

An actual crab that we found in a tiny cave.

Grandpa Dennis and Grandma Linda with Z and J.

Grandma Linda with Julia

Crazy cousins: Savanna, Zariah, Audrina and Julia

Here's my cute Cyndie with her cute Audrina.

Sweet Fan with her friend Courtney and bundled Savanna.

The best pic of the whole trip.

Little goosey heads.

In the shower stall after a minimally traumatic family shower.

This is what Vanna did the whole time at the beach.

No Sudoku for her.

Sleeping, at last.

These guys were exhausted every night.

Me and mom.

Okay, nevermind, this is the best pic of the whole trip.

Dirty and Lovely at the same time.

My sweet Laura playing in the freezing water with Savanna.