Ensuring the Roundness of Our Children

Did I mention summer camp? Craig signed the girls up for two weeks of martial arts summer camp to help pass the time during their long break from school. Its incredible distance from our house in the West Valley all the way to the East Valley made for some long days, with a 3-hour combined commute for Craig as well as an every other day gas tank fill-up. He'll tell you, though, that "that's the price you pay for having well-rounded children." (But I'm pretty sure he won't want to pay that price again any time soon.)

Julia has hinted that she might want to stick with learning karate, (much closer to home this time) or possibly piano, and Savanna wants to try out guitar lessons next. (Having well-rounded children means that they try a bunch of different stuff until it gets difficult or they get tired of it, right?? Thank goodness for Groupon.)

Meanwhile, Lex got lots of baby brother bonding time, and didn't have anyone to yell at all day. It was a win-win for both of us, I tell you.

Sweat + Animals = Phoenix Zoo in July

So what do you do when it's insanely hot where you live for the entirety of the summer...and, well, the majority of the spring and fall? You can a) not go anywhere (my personal tendency) or b) go places where water, and if you're lucky, snow are involved. Well, for this sweltering July trip to the zoo, I guess we got the best of both worlds: I stayed home with Spencer (as I am not quite ready to try and acclimate his tiny person to the morbid heat of Phoenix) and Craig took the girls (with cousin Audrina in tow) to a "snow day" at the zoo. 

Apparently the snow was "too cold" for the girls to have much interest in it. Go figure. Thank goodness there's a splash pad there.

 Curse you, tiny snowball!

This girl smiles with her whole soul. It's one of the things I love best about her.

Their skin tones don't match, but their squinty smiles say they're sisters. (And so do I.)

Poor Drina isn't used to this kind of heat, but she sure took it like a champ.

Uncle Nate and 3-year-old Dryden joined in on the fun.

Cousin Lovin'

You can make a Phoenix summer day even hotter by jump-roping around the zoo. 

Just so you know.

Sweat + giraffes

Don't feed the ducks. These guys got busted.

Daddy was nice enough to let the girls play in the water that grosses Mommy out.

Good thing I wasn't there to see it.

Cute Cousins

Thanks for a fun time, hot zoo!
We'll catch your act again in November.

Here I Sit Procrastinating...

It is Monday night, my official laundry-folding date night with Craig. Only we aren't folding laundry. Because laundry folding night is not as exciting as it used to be back when I was in school and Monday night was one of the only nights I got to hang out with Craig and/or watch TV. Now that I can do those things whenever the heck I want, (well, whenever the heck the kids are asleep, anyway) folding laundry just does not have the same appeal that it once did. And, what better excuse is there to not fold laundry than to blog about not folding laundry? There isn't one, I tell you.

Speaking of Craig, (remember, I mentioned him up there in between the laundry and the procrastinating?) this poor guy had to have minor surgery to remove some basal cell carcinoma that had made itself at home on his forehead. Yikes. While we thought the result would involve some deep cutting, the area that needed to be removed ended up being much wider than expected and required some small skin grafts. In a nutshell, it's been a painful, stressful few days for my handsome honey, but he is handling it like the trouper he is. He doesn't even seem to be overly concerned about the scary gash traversing his forehead. In a couple weeks the many stitches will come out and we are hoping the scarring will be minimal. I am also hoping that the stress of experiencing severe head pain whilst small children are afoot will not inspire my wonderful husband to purchase a one-way ticket to Anywhere Else. 

(Because, in case you were wondering, no amount of reminders to the children that Daddy's head is hurting have produced any results on the volume of their voices, their demands for Daddy's time and attention and/or the general manner in which they conduct themselves.)

On a lighter note, I have happily discovered that Craig's sense of humor remains in tact. In a flustered moment last night when one of the girls was (yet again) calling my name, I spouted, "Ugh! Why do they always want something from me??" Craig's swift and accurate response was, "It's not just you. It's anything that's bigger than them that has a heartbeat."

True that.

Get better soon, my sweet love!

Ew de Toilette

We have a cabinet over the toilet in the downstairs bathroom that also houses a small drawer where I tend to throw bracelets, necklaces, hair rubber bands, and other bathroomy stuff that the girls get out and don't put away. (I'm a junk drawer junkie. I'll admit it.) Said drawer is quite the destination for Alexa who, as I mentioned earlier, is both hoarder and kleptomaniac. One night when she was supposed to be getting into pajamas, we heard a crash and a cry and came upon this scene:

I washed what I could but tossed the rest and found everything I had put in the trash back in the bathroom drawer the next day. Ew.

She's come a long way from her gum stealing days, eh?

(Hmm...or has she?)

Three Months!

 Spencerkins is 3 whole months! Three! I kind of cannot believe it. The sentimental part of me feels like there is no way that it's been that long(!) and where on earth has the time gone(?), etc., and the other, slightly more realistic part of me feels like this last three months sure has been a long, long time to be glued to the couch or rocking chair, nursing and doing just about nothing else besides occasionally (okay, okay, frequently) yelling at the girls to: a) stop fighting, b) start cleaning up, and c) stop fighting about cleaning up.

But alas, I digress.

Prince Spencer, Baby of the World, has been the sweetest most wonderful addition to our family. He smiles freely, he loves to be talked to and responds in kind, and lately, he is trying his darndest to laugh. The girls all love him, and, champ that he is, he tolerates their invasion of his face space for as long as he possibly can. (His revenge is to pull the crap out of their hair when they get too close for too long. I don't blame him.) He can sit in the Bumbo chair for short bouts and already puts everything he can into his mouth, including fists, blankets, and toys. He is a mover and a shaker, and I just have a feeling that once he is old enough to get going, he will never stop. Tonight marks the start of crib-sleeping, about which I am perfectly even in the sad and glad departments.

LOVE LOVE LOVE this baby. I'm sure you can see why.

 (Look how big he is! I mean, his head is bigger than that chair!)

(what you talkin' bout, Willis?)

(And, did I mention that I love him?)

Ms. Clean

Sweet Alexa is a lover of all things stuffed animal, princess, or makeup. (Oh, and Spencer. She sure loves some Spencer.) Incidentally, she is also a little bit of a hoarder, with quite the penchant for stuffing, stashing, and cramming random items into purses, boxes, and bags, or just letting them gather on her bedroom floor. On a normal day, Alexa's room is strewn with evidence of her hunter/gatherer nature in the form of toys and other key accouterments that any average  3-year-old requires. (Did I mention that she also has a touch of the kleptomania? We can discuss that one later.) 

Imagine my surprise when I entered her room one evening and found it virtually spotless:

The ensuing conversation went something like this:

Me: You cleaned your room?
Lex: Yes!
Me: Who helped you?
Lex: No one! I did it by myself!
Me: Really?
Lex: Yes!
Me: You're sure no one helped you?
Lex: Nope.
Me: Well, where did you put all your stuff?
Lex: In the closet!

And in the closet she had. At least for a second there I had the joy of thinking that one of my children was actually capable of cleaning her own messes.

I guess there's always tomorrow.

(my cute hoarder)

When Ten Years Isn't Enough...

 In May, Craig and I hit ten whole years of marriage. What scares me most about that is that it means that we are old enough to have been married for ten years. How did that happen, exactly? In the blink of an eye, that's how! Despite the fact that the both of us are far, far from perfect, I do feel like we are perfect for each other, and we have so enjoyed the life we have built together, and all the laughter, tears, meltdowns, drama, and joy that that implies. I can't wait to spend the next ten years together, along with millions of years after that.

What do you get to do for your tenth anniversary when it happens two weeks after 

the birth of your infant and two days after the birthday of your six-year-old? 

Why, a pizza date at Costco, of course, with all the kiddos.

But the truth is, as long as it's with Craig, I'm ecstatic about it.

Royal Mess

Check out the girls playing and making thrones in the room that (what??) they aren't supposed to bring any toys into. They're lucky they're so cute. 

Oh, and also that I usually don't notice their messes until it's too late.

p.s. I'm really grateful to not be looking (and feeling!) like this anymore.

And for the fact that it means that I have a new baby to snuggle.

Daddy of the World

Craig is the perfect dad for these kids. He loves them, he enjoys them, and he is wonderful about getting them involved in new experiences that they would never have otherwise. When I expressed my dismay at the fact that he signed Julia and Savanna up for a karate summer camp that required him to drive them a ridiculous distance before going going in to work each morning, (and then picking them back up after working all day and essentially adding an hour and a half to his daily commute) he responded with a grin, "Well, that's the price you pay for having a well-rounded child." (Wonderful as he is, I'm not sure he'll want to pay that price again any time soon!)

On Father's Day he was spoiled with a mammoth breakfast of stuffed french toast, sausage, eggs, and Orange Julius, (or "Orange Julias" as we like to call them) as well as awesome homemade cards from the girls. Oh, and a big, fat nap. Isn't that what every father really wants?

We love this Daddy like crazy and can't believe how lucky we are that he is part of our family.

Spot(s) On

I love this beautiful girl, even with all of her shenanigans. Since Julia's brain is almost an exact duplicate of Craig's, (whose thinking I have yet to crack) I struggle to understand her sometimes. She is motivated by things that I never was, expresses herself in ways that I never did, and, in short, is unlike me in almost every way, both as a child and as an adult. She is one of four children, but, like her no-sibling Daddy, seems to be an only child at heart. 

Recently, she paid Savanna to clean her room. Then she sold Savanna some pictures that she had drawn to get some of the money back. (Don't worry, we cancelled that transaction as soon as we found out what she'd done.) Craig calls her opportunistic. I call her a schemer. She, like her dad, is easily both. But she can also be a very loving older sister, and a helpful daughter, and a sweet, sweet friend. I am enjoying getting to know her 8-year-old self, despite all the sass that happens to accompany it. 

She is her father's daughter, but I sure love her too!

Do freckles get any cuter than this? No. No they don't. 

(Photography by Julia)