To Give of Oneself

Today I just needed to write a little tribute to my husband. There are not too many people in life who answer the call when it comes regardless of what the request is. Tyler seems to be one of these people. He doesn't know how to fix everything, but he will try and solve the problem no matter what the cost or work; and most of the time a little hard work will get the job done.

Yesterday evening a sister in the ward called because some kind of water line (most likely attached to the sprinkler system) had broken. She was looking for some Elders to help her fix the problem. At 8:30 pm a few choice men went to dig up some sprinklers and help someone in need. The mosquitoes joined the party along the way and eventually Tyler got out his large utility light as the sun set behind the horizon. They were out working until almost 10:30 pm.

Here are some men who are not scared of hard work. I am so impressed. I would be the one to make a phone call and stand back idly watching someone else do the job.

My husband came back pretty filthy. He had mud caked up his arms and in his hair. I took a picture merely to remind myself that I should work harder. He already washed his hands in this picture and you have to ignore the smug face. That isn't because he is prideful, but merely because he can't take a serious picture.



I also liked this picture of his back. I think it is Skyler's hand holding him down as a counter weight.



We sang the song Put Your Shoulder to the Wheel on Monday at Family Home Evening. The girls really enjoyed the song, but they are still trying to grasp the concept of 'we all have work, let no one shirk.' At least I know that the girls will always have an amazing example in their father.

There are no words

Tyler barbecued chicken this evening. It was so incredibly delicious that I completely forgot about So You Think You Can Dance until it was over half an hour into it. That is some amazing chicken.

I am still thinking about it.

Wishes do come true...

...so be careful what you wish for.

When I got pregnant this last time, I was really hoping that someone would ask me if this was my first pregnancy. I thought it would make me feel young, and then I could shock whoever asked with, "Why no, it is my fourth."
Well, I take my kids most of the places I go so no one is going to ask me that, when it is obvious I am traveling with my brood. But even when I have gone somewhere alone, no one has asked me if this were my first baby. I finally had to admit to myself that maybe I don't look so young after all, or the fact that it is Utah, and you can be on your fourth baby by the time you are in your early twenties.

Then...I went to the temple. I was waiting for a friend to come out of the dressing room and this sweet little lady looked at me and asked when I was due. "Late July," I said. And then my wish came true. "Is this your first?" I wanted to sing the response. She proceeded to totally make my day by telling me that I looked 21 and couldn't possibly have three other children. I wanted to kiss her. I guess you really do get blessings by going to the temple.



On the other side of my wishes is this vague hope that I will go into labor by myself. I never have before and I think it would be a novel experience. At the same time, I am perfectly content to be induced again. My mother will be here a couple of days past my due date and it would be fine to have it all planned out again. So here I am wishing for something to happen, and voila, I started having contractions last week. Now, I know that many of you are thinking, BIG DEAL...I had contractions for months before I had my baby.

Well, this IS a big deal for me. I have NEVER had a contraction before being induced. My first thought was great, I am totally going to go into labor by myself. But the more I hear about how commonplace these early contractions are, I am thinking that maybe I may have wished in vain. The truth is also, that even when they induce me and I start having serious contractions, they don't really help me dilate, so I can't imagine that these measly squeezings I am having now will do much for me. So, in reality I have just wished uncomfortable contractions on myself for no good reason. Awesome, I am a genius.

Summerfest, summerfest, sum, sum, summerfest

Summer is certainly in full swing and we are trying to take every advantage. We spent last weekend at Summerfest and had a really fun time with the kids. We started off by browsing the booths and I like that you can find trinkets and the like for fairly cheap. The girls bought themselves some bracelets and I bought Ivory a pair of squeaky shoes. They squeak every time she takes a step. I think they are hilarious. By now they are her favorite pair of shoes and if we go anywhere she requests her "keeky" shoes. I can tell that some people get annoyed by the noise (Tyler isn't really a fan either). I was at the post office for over a half hour waiting in line the other day and I could tell by the end that some people wanted to shoot me for letting my child wear shoes that squeaked incessantly. Once again, I thought it was hilarious.

But back to the topic on hand...summerfest. We enjoyed watching some of the entertainment (I can't believe how many kids they can squish on that stage at one time) and we shared a huge tasty scone.



Ivory was tethered for most of this time and for good reason.



When I finally took off her leash during the rides, we actually lost her once. I had for the first time that terrible sinking panic rush over me as I looked around and realized I had no idea where she was. Ivory isn't the best at staying close anyway, so it wouldn't take long for her to get really lost. Fortunately I calmed myself, tried to think like her and found her just moments later, but I don't recommend the experience to anyone. I appreciate our leash that much more now.

The girls had a great time on the rides.



The carousel is always a hit and they enjoyed the ferris wheel too. This was the only ride I got on and I had my arms suctioned onto Ivory. There are no belts and the seats are so roomy, it would be so easy for a child to slip through. I have never considered the ferris wheel risky, but I may have to change my opinion. Here are a few more shots of other rides we liked.



We didn't stay long and it was hot anyway, but I feel we got plenty of fun out of Summerfest '08.

You know you have kids when...

...you go to IKEA and come back with children's furniture. We did get ourselves a nice bookcase and I found a dresser I liked for the kids (but Tyler didn't like the color so we didn't get it) but other than that, we bought all kids stuff.

I am actually fairly impressed with the table and stools that we bought. The table is very sturdy (as Ivory has tested over and over jumping off of it) and the stools come in handy all over the place. There is always a place to sit and they have been used for many creative purposes as seen here. Nothing like a bridge to paradise.



I also purchased some kids cups and mini bowls. I love the bowls because they are perfect for small helpings of fruit, yogurt, ice cream, etc. and the cups are just the right size for the kids. Ivory likes that they have a wider lip and I found her dipping her Coco Roos in her water the other morning. Personally, that sounds disgusting, but she was enjoying herself.



Someday I hope to have nice furniture (or at least something that matches with something else) but for now I will settle for kids stuff. After all, I like them to feel at home here too.

Nesting!!!!

I have all these things that I need to blog about but instead I get hit by the nesting bug and my house looks like it has exploded as I rearrange and clean things out. You would think by nesting one would be gathering and interweaving, but I simply need to purge. Why do I cling to so much junk?? I can tell you that I am getting much better at throwing things away. So hopefully I will get my blogging back in order and get this nesting urge worked out quickly. And now to shower...as it is 2:30 in the afternoon. I wouldn't even bother except that I have to go to a banquet of sorts tonight and I should probably look presentable. Wish me luck!

Father's Day...the end.

Well, I wanted to finish up Father's Day and let you know that it ended much better than it started. We tried a new thing this year. We had a little Father's Day competition wherein the Dad's sampled 8 different ice cream flavors and tried to guess what they were. The kids were very cute taking the samples back and forth so the Dad's wouldn't see the ice cream. Check out these ponderous faces... Tyler was making me laugh. He was totally teasing June but she was clueless. She would bring back his bowl and say, "Dad knows this one. He said it was oak with a hint of walnut and a splash of lime."



Here is Brian pondering his ice cream.



I love how Daylen has a hint of a smile here, but it wouldn't surprise me since he rocked at this game. I think his score was 7 out of 8 correct. Not too shabby.



Tyler loves ice cream but his taste buds are obviously not very picky because he couldn't distinguish flavors as well as the other Dads. He told June that he won anyway though so she could be proud of him.

We also played a game where the women answered some questions about the Dads (like unto the newlywed game) and Tyler and I did not excel at this game either. People think we are two peas in a pod and I would agree but when it comes to those types of games, we bellyflop. It was still fun to play and the MacBean's took the win.

It was a good evening and a great way to end Father's Day, I think. I should give a shout out to my Dad as well. He lives far away in rainy Washington, and I wish we could visit more often. He is a great Dad in many ways, but my favorite thing about him is his laugh. It is one of my favorite sounds in the entire world, listening to my Dad laugh. Also, my Dad is very passionate about the gospel and religion. He taught me so much growing up and he has never lost his desire to learn more and share his knowledge. I really admire him for that. So Dad, I hope I am following in your footsteps at least a little. We miss you and we took this picture for you, but didn't get it printed or sent in time. But at least you can view it here. The girls are doing sign language. They are saying I love you.

The Best Laid Plans...

Okay, I realize that this post should be labeled Happy Father's Day because that is the special occasion today (and I was all ready for it too), but sometimes the best laid plans go astray. I'll let you take a little look at my morning.
Like many of you, I planned to let my husband sleep in a bit, so I took the kids and we decided to make Daddy some breakfast in bed. We bought a cute tray to deliver the meal, and June drew a special picture for the event. I planned on muffins, an omelet, maybe some bacon and of course juice. Everything was going according to plan. The girls helped me make the muffins, they were in the oven and I had 18 minutes to cook an omelet and get the tray ready before the muffins were out. June was coloring, the other girls were watching a movie, and all was in order. I whipped up a batch of Crystal Light and was about to get the eggs out when I thought that maybe I should take my prenatal vitamin for the day. If only I could go back and take that thought out of my head. But no, it was too late. I opened the cupboard and the pills and vitamins were stacked precariously. So much so, that trying to grab one bottle started an avalanche that also knocked the cooking spray out of the cupboard. I will never truly know what happened next unless I had a camera in slow motion, but I can tell you the basic effect. Something (I think the spray) hit the recently filled pitcher of juice and the glass handle broke off completely. The very red (likely to stain anything it touches) juice, saw a convenient exit from the pitcher and took it immediately with the help of gravity. I was utterly soaked in juice before I even realized what had happened. The stove was flooded, along with the floor, counters, oven, and basically anything nearby before I picked up the broken pitcher and put it in the sink. My guess is 6 of the 8 cups of liquid made it out of the pitcher before I stepped in. From the waist down, I was literally bright red from liquid and I stood there in shock. I think I may have screamed with the initial break because June came downstairs and just stared at the huge mess I had created. I told her to get her Dad, but I thought better of it and asked her to go for the dish towels instead. I spent the next fifteen or so minutes not making breakfast for Dad, but cleaning every inch of pink I could find. OxyClean saved my counters which I was sure were going to be stained forever, and amazingly a quick batch of laundry saved my dish towels after the cleanup. Only a few little rags came out pink; the rest including my white underwear came out unscathed.
It certainly was not the start to the morning that I was expecting. I also managed to get flustered enough that I cooked the bacon on high and burned it, filling the house with smoke, but let me tell you, that was minor compared to the juice incident. Breakfast did eventually arrive at Dad's bed and he thought it was wonderful. He is the best Dad I know, so he deserves a little tender love and care, and he even slept through the whole juice mess. I'm surprised my scream didn't wake him up, but in the end I was glad that I tackled my own problem without much help (Ivory was there throwing every wash cloth she could find at me, but that was LESS helpful).
We do have plans this evening for some more Father's Day festivities and I surely hope that I can pull them off better than breakfast in bed.

Here is a picture of the pitcher (my favorite...sob) and the only washcloth to not escape the pink staining.

Splish, Splash

Well, we made it through swim lessons. Despite some very cold days, split bleeding toes, and a maternity suit that seemed to get smaller everyday. (I told my mother-in-law that you know you are wearing a maternity suit when you pick up the swim bottoms and you can't tell which side is for your rear--both sides looked equally huge).
My girls are not exactly little fish but they are improving each summer. I could especially tell June was making real progress as she would put her head under the water a lot now; we just have to work on the actual swimming technique. Robyn is much more hesitant but still doing well, and Ivory loves the water even if she won't blow a single bubble. My mother-in-law is certain we are all going to drown since I myself didn't learn how to swim well until college. I think she actually feared that I was the one taking Ivory in the pool. However, I am just fine in the water, no worries and at the moment I have extra buoyancy (I don't think you could sink this belly if you tried).
I didn't get any pictures until the last day because I was usually in the water. The last day was so nice too, it was the perfect weather for a free swim and Tyler got to come too. It was really fun, and I even managed to escape being photographed (lucky you guys). But here are a couple pictures of our splish splashing day. The cherry suit was the most popular at the pool. There were two others in her group that had the same suit and several others in the pool with the cherries. Target must have made a fortune on that suit.



One more thing on my list to get done before the baby arrives. Swim lessons--check.

Husband Tag

1-What is his name? Tyler Cazier
2-How long have you been married? 8 ½ years
3-How long did you date? 2 ½ months and then we got engaged for 2 ½ months
4-How old is he? 30 and looking good!
5-Who eats more? Tyler, maybe, but when it comes to food, we can both put away our fair share
6-Who said I love you first? Tyler, I think
7-Who is smarter? Depends on what subject you pick
8-Whose temper is worse? He has a bigger temper, but I can be moody
9-Who does the laundry? Me, but Tyler will put some clean clothes away if they are on the bed when he wants to sleep
10-Who does the dishes? Half and half
11-Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? We don’t have a side (seriously)
12-Who pays the bills? He does
13-Who cooks dinner? I do, unless we grill and then I turn it over to him
14-Who drives when you are together? Whoever gets in the driver’s seat
15-Who is more stubborn? Yikes…both of us
16-Whose parents do you see the most? Depends on the year, they both live out of state
17-Who proposed? Tyler
18-Who has more siblings? Tyler, he has two brothers, I have one sister
19-What's his favorite color? Blue
20-Would he prefer chocolate or vanilla ice cream? Chocolate, definitely!

And then since I am talking about my favorite subject, Tyler, I would like to add some pictures. This was the first Christmas after we had June.



This one makes me laugh. He came home after priming the entire house and he looked like a snowman.



I love these pictures because it makes me smile that he is such a good father. Watch the glasses too, they change throughout the pictures.



The girls stickered him while he slept.



Here is another daddy shot. Aaaahhhhh.



Then we have to give credit where credit is due. Without these two, there wouldn't be the one in the middle.

Bananas Revenge

I have mentioned that this pregnancy has been very different than my other ones. Sometimes this is a good thing. For instance, I haven't had very much heartburn. With my other pregnancies, I think I took something almost every night so I could lie down without melting holes in my esophagus. But with this pregnancy, moments of heartburn are few and far between. I have identified several culprits and I steer clear of those; things like peppers, sometimes onions, and always BANANAS!! They give me some terrible heartburn. I like to make banana bread if my bananas over ripen, but I am scared to eat it because of what a regular banana can do to me. So, instead I usually take a fresh baked loaf over to Tyler's work and the guys take care of it for me (they don't seem to have any complaints).
Yesterday was one of those days and I watched a bit sadly as the loaf vanished and I couldn't even try it for fear of discomfort the rest of the day. But I was strong, and refrained from even one piece. Then in the evening, I made this cherry delight thing in the crockpot that used cherry pie filling. It was fairly tasty. I didn't think much of it and I went to bed early because I was very tired. Right before bed I finished reading Fablehaven to June (the book was a bit above her level but I think she really enjoyed it and she seemed to listen very intently to the details).
So I am off somewhere in dreamland when I start imagining little fairies that burn. They seem to fly into my chest and I can see them glow a bit under my skin, and they hurt so much. They come one at a time but they are never ending; one after the other. Right before midnight I wake up and realize I have some killer heartburn (thanks Fablehaven for trying to translate it into fairies for me). I sit up thinking that will help the problem but the heartburn just charges ahead with renewed vigor. Thank goodness for Gaviscon. Tyler was very kind to fetch medicine for me and wait dutifully for me to feel better (man, those pills are nasty; I can't stand how they foam in my mouth before I swallow them). Here I was thinking I had escaped the wrath of the bananas only to find that I apparently need to take cherry pie filling off my list of safe foods as well. And maybe I shouldn't read fantasy books right before bedtime either.

So Little Time...

I was going to wait until July to start on baby projects, but suddenly six weeks doesn't seem like a lot of time to get ready for a baby. So I will probably start next week.

On my list...

-Find and wash all my baby clothes.
-Buy some new items for things that are worn out or have way too many spit up stains.
-Find the swing and bouncer seat and reassemble (then try to keep the other three kids out of them).
-Make a list of things to take to the hospital and pack a bag (I won't do this until the end, because if I pack too early, labor seems more imminent).
-Put up the bassinet and find space in our room for the little one to sleep in there for at least a month or until I feel like walking farther in the middle of the night.
-Make sure the infant car seat is clean, find the base and get everyone used to the idea of sitting somewhere new in the car.

What seemed so far away is really around the corner. I am getting kind of excited.

More June-isms

All my kids crack me up sometimes with the things they say, but here are a couple from June this week.

June has problems with inanimate objects. She tends to get hurt and she figures they (the chair, the couch, etc.) did it on purpose. I have explained countless times that those things don't move by themselves, but she's convinced they are just plain MEAN! So she came in whimpering about some chair hitting her. I tried a new approach.

Me: What a mean chair.

June: (whimper, sob) Momma (it is so infuriating that when she gets hurt, all she will say is 'Momma' which is not a term I like and it doesn't help solve the problem of what happened).

Me: I hope you told that chair to say sorry.

June: (with a quizzical look) what?

Me: Did you tell him to say sorry because obviously he can talk and move.

I think she could tell that I was trying to trap her in the usual conversation that chairs don't move, so she said...

June: He can't talk, but he CAN move.

I give up.

So I moved on to another topic. Pain. I was trying to distract her from the moving chair and the crying, so I asked her to give me a number between 1 and 5.

Me: On a scale of 1 to 5, tell me how badly it hurts-- Five being It hurts so bad, I think I'm going to die!! And one being Eh, it's not too bad.

She looked at me for a minute and then said...

June: 10!!

She must have thought of that all by herself because I have never given her an option of numbers before, but it sure made me laugh. And fortunately, when I laugh and June realizes she has said something funny, it usually cheers her right up. So, the evil chairs will probably live to strike another day, but I will be on my guard (as should you all).

Shameless Plug

Tyler mentioned that my last post may have seemed like I was fishing for compliments. Hardly. First of all, I am very secure in my appearance (even when I disapprove of my girth) and second, I usually don't fish. If I have a question about how I look, I usually just ask. So, I thought that I would stop complaining for a moment and examine the wonder of my belly.

*From some angles, I don't even look pregnant
*I don't get stretch marks
*My girls love to give kisses and hugs to my belly
*There is a baby in there!!

Here are a couple of lovely shots of the belly.



I definitely look pregnant in both, but more so in the one where I practically blot June from the entire picture (by the way, it is amazing that I got a picture by myself, because once the camera comes out, the girls flock to it like flies to honey.

But I know what you are really interested in...it is that amazing head band I am wearing. I know you want one just like it (perhaps in a different color?) and I know just where you can get one. See, Emilie and I made them (aren't we crafty) and we will be selling them at Charesse's Boutique this Saturday.



The address is 1590 W. 525 S. right off of Geneva. There will be plenty there to check out including $3 pedicures which I will have to take advantage of while I am there. How is that for a shameless plug. I have never tried making something and selling it before so it might be a bust, but it was fun nonetheless and in the end, I know I will have some dang cute head bands (that don't fall off or hurt for that matter). (Shameless plug, shameless plug.)

But back to belly business. There is great obsession with bellies in our house at the moment. The girls were feeling left out so Tyler gave each of them a little friend for their tummy. Please excuse the nakedness of Robyn, but this picture is worth viewing (you have to look closely to see the faces).



And here is one more of Ivory because I love this kissy face she is making.



So the moral of the story is...bellies are beautiful. I am happy to have the biggest one in the family at the moment. I shouldn't complain because a big belly brought each of my beautiful girls and I expect this one will be no different.

Am I Pretty?

Ivory is very two right now. It seems like just the last few days her ingenuity is getting her into trouble. Well, she thinks it is getting her into interesting things, her mom thinks it is getting her into trouble.
She has recently combined the skills of taking off twist tops with the skill of using a stool to reach everything her heart desires. My lip gloss is no longer sacred. I have them stashed around the house, but that just means more opportunities for Ivory. She comes to find me after getting into one, and she will have lip gloss all over her face. "Am I pretty?" she asks.
I really should be taking pictures of these precious moments, but it is hard to run for the camera when you feel the immediate need to extract the nail polish bottle from her purple sparkly fingers and clean up the floor as best you can.
My makeup is another draw for her and she often comes down with something that looks like a bruised eye, but is really just her creative rendition of watching mom (at least the eye shadow goes somewhere near the eye and not immediately on my the floor, although I have found it there too).
I guess this is not the end of the world. She will grow out of it and in the meantime it should keep me busy and not thinking about how huge I am and that I still have about seven weeks to go. I hate telling people that because they look and me and think that I miscalculated somehow. Nope, I am just a blob. I'm even measuring three weeks small (can you imagine what a whale I would be if I didn't have small babies...I shudder to think about it).