Mmmm, markers...almost as yummy as peas...

Julia, Savanna, and I were coloring the other day, and Savanna, Marker-Eater Extraordinaire, kept eating the tops off of all the markers. (Admittedly, I was sitting right next to her, but she was sneaky and kept doing it every time I turned away.) I don't know that she does it so much because she likes the taste; I think the obsession hinges more on the fact that she gets a rise out of me when she does it. ("Eww! Gross, Savanna! What are you doing?! Quit eating the markers!")

Not that I ever over-react or anything.

An apple a day...

It's not uncommon for the girls to fight over something. (Anything, in fact. Toothbrushes, toys, shoes, old Kleenex. It doesn't matter what it is, it only matters that "she has it, mommy! I had it first!") In fact, it's actually uncommon for them not to fight over something.

That being said, this morning, the girls were pulling random food out of the fridge while I was working on the computer, and Julia brought in a bag of apples for me to open. (It was only being held closed with a twister, but that kind of technology is something that I've only recently mastered, so I don't expect Julia to attempt it just yet. "Okay, does it go this way? No, it's the other way...wait, no, I was untwisting it right the first time. Wait, was I? Dangit!") So, I told them that they could have an apple only if they shared it. (In many ways, the word "share" is actually similar to a swear-word. In any case, the use of it usually incites the same kind of ranting and rioting that a swear-word might.) So, Julia has the apple, and Savanna grabs it from her, then Julia grabs it back, it repeats a few times and then Julia finally gets it again, and while she's bringing it up to her mouth for a bite, she tells me, "I have to have a bite first because I've never had an apple before." Wow. It's actually hard to believe that 14 little words can be so drenched with such big, fat fibness. This may very well be the most ridiculous lie that has ever been told! I'm filing this one under the category of "so hilarious I won't even try to laugh, because I'll never be able to laugh hard enough to do it justice." Seriously. I tried.

(I feel compelled to mention that this very same apple, which inspired such desperate seizing and fib-telling, is currently lying on the floor of the play-room, half eaten. Apparently J's first experience with an apple was not all it was cracked up to be.)

Peas are gross. Savanna likes peas. Savanna is gross.

We are still trying to figure out where Savanna has come from. For some reason, this little girl that has plopped from the heavens into our rejoicing arms, loves to eat things that the remainder of the world's children (or at least America's kids) find unappealing. I am not just referring to the non-food items that she commonly enjoys, such as contact solution straight from the bottle, sidewalk chalk, Chapstick, or any form of body/facial lotion (whether scented or not). I am talking about actual food items that little kids aren't supposed to like; yes, I refer to the v-word: vegetables. Case in point: Crabby Savanna wanted a snack. I retrieved for her a delicious peanut butter and chocolate chip granola bar. After one bite, she abandoned the granola bar on the floor and went in search for something even more tasty. What did she find? A can of peas. "Peas, mommy, peas...mmmm, peas, mommy. Open? Open, mommy?" (I'm not sure which of those "peas" was please, and which was actually peas, but you get the point.) She is now on her third bowl of nasty canned peas; she literally eats them by the handful, as voraciously as any other hungry child might eat something that actually tastes good, i.e., candy, fruit snacks, cookies, etc. In the meantime, Julia has found and devoured a small bag of Mother's cookies from the pantry, and I have commandeered and consumed the neglected granola bar. WE are clearly related. Savanna is not. She also enjoys plain avocados, broccoli, soy beans, green beans, and carrots.

Basically, we can't figure out this veggie-gene that she seems to have inherited. She didn't get her taste for the healthy from me, and she certainly didn't get it from her dad (who gags at the smell of plain Cheerios and puts syrup on his plate before adding the first pancake). Perhaps Grandma Lorene secretly slipped something into the gene pool that can explain this strange phenomenon. Maybe she's a creature from a different planet altogether.

Whatever the case may be, we will continue to love and care for our little vegetable-eater if if she were our own.

Special Report: Instant Messaging: Not so Instant!

So, Craig set me up with Yahoo Instant Messaging so that I can bug him all day long at work. (It's true...I can even tell when I'm interrupting him from doing some enormous, multi-faceted task because he gives me one-word answers to my questions. Very much like talking on the phone, actually.) Anyway, the other day we were Instant Messaging each other in the same room (true story; we adore each other so much that we are in constant contact, even if it is via the Internet) and I was sending him Instant Messages, and I found out...they're not instant after all! After I would hit enter to send the message, it took at least a full 3-4 seconds before I heard the little "doo-doo-doo" coming from his laptop to indicate that my message had been received. I mean, 3-4 seconds? Seriously?! You might as well call it "Delayed Messaging" or "Be There When it Gets There Messaging." We live in a fast-paced world, people! I don't have 3-4seconds to wait until Craig gets my message, and then another 3-4 seconds for me to get the message back from him that says he loves me too! Seriously, I have other things to do...the last thing I want is to find out that Instant Messaging is only as instant as oatmeal, for instance. (Really, people, 30 seconds to cook my oatmeal in the microwave. You call that Instant?) Apparently some of our new technology isn't all it's cracked up to be. Until I can get a response at the literal push of a button, I will remain much disheartened and disappointed in the so-called "technological advances" of our day.

Growing, Growing, Gone!

I was attempting to multi-task last week, in the form of eating breakfast, reading a history chapter and looking over a recipe for dinner all at once (while simultaneously watching my own kids and my friend's two little girls out of the corner of my eye). I was trying to stand still and quiet enough so that I didn't warrant any unwanted attention towards me, but for some reason, it was at this exact moment that little Savanna decided she needed some mommy snuggles. Now, to be perfectly candid, I really have a hard time when I'm trying to get something (or somethings) done, and the kids interrupt me, even if it is for something as snuggly and yummy as Savanna. In this moment, though, for some reason, it didn't bug me. I don't know if it was her early morning adorableness in her little nightgown, or her tiny persistence to "get me, mommy!" or that the fact she was particularly squeezy and cuddly that day, but right then, I had a tiny moment of understanding and blessed clarity: she's growing, and I can't do anything about it. Julia is steadily approaching the age of unholdableness, and Savanna will be there, too, before I even realize what's happening. For one morning, I had the intuition to savor her snuggles and to squeeze her right back just as tightly and wonderfully as she was squeezing me. My soggy cereal and perpetually undone homework were, for a suspended moment in time, not my priority, and I got to love on Savanna recklessly and blissfully, trying with all my might to store her tiny loveliness in my heart to come back to for the rest of my life.

Jesus Wants me for a Sunbeam!

We are working on getting Julia a little bit more excited about Sunbeams...when it was time for her to go into the "big kid" class at church, she was a little hesitant. (When I say "hesitant," I mean that she refused to go into primary by herself, would only go while accompanied by a parent, and insisted on sitting on mom/dad's lap during sharing time.) Julia's Sunbeam teachers, Brother and Sister Lemmon, have really reached out to her (bringing treats by the house for her and putting together a "Sunbeam Party" at their house to get her to be more comfortable with them) and it seems to finally be paying off. (If you don't understand the term "slow to warm," you should meet Julia for the first time. Or the fifth time.) While we were playing "church" the other day, Julia constructed a Little People version of her Sunbeam class. Oh, yes...Brother and Sister Lemmon, and every single child in her class were represented in Little People form. When I tried to get her to use one of her dollhouse babies as one of the boys in her class, she told me "No, the babies have their own class," and proceeded to make a nursery.

Haz Lo Justo

During Little People Sacrament Meeting, (complete with our popcorn-holding, red-headed girl playing the part of chorister) we started doing "testimonies" at the block-microphone, and I (playing the part of a mommy Little Person) said something in my "testimony" about trying to choose the right. Julia gets this very amused look on her face and says, "Moms don't choose the right!" Well, in that case, I'll just stop being perfect altogether.

Joy in the Journey

I read an article this morning about finding joy in the journey, and I made a resolution to enjoy the little things every day, despite messes and stresses. Well, you know, my day was pretty stressful despite my resolution, so I think I'll try again tomorrow...

What time is it? It's past Valentimes!

I am on yet another small break from school and I have a tiny bit of time to "blog," though I still cringe using that as a verb. My kids are still as cute as when I started the blog, so that's good news. Some day I'll get some more pictures on here, and actually start journaling a little bit, since that's the whole point...the girls are growing so fast I almost don't recognize them from day to day. (Although just a few moments of whining in the morning jogs my memory about who they are and why they are insisting that I feed them breakfast.) Savanna's new thing is telling us "wookit me!" while she does something cute (which happens a lot). Julia is using words like "otherwise," and thinks that the Three Little Pigs tell the Big, Bad Wolf, "not by the hair of my jimmy jim jim!" Oh, I love it.