Quiet as a Mouse

My mother-in-law graciously asked if she could take the girls up to Idaho for a few days, so I could get some rest. A few days....meaning nine!
What am I going to do without my girls?? I guess I could try and take a few extra naps. And maybe clean some of the house that wasn't going to get touched until kids were back in school. And maybe cry a little.
I really do appreciate this time by myself (plus baby), but oh, I miss my girls. They left last night. Around 10:00pm I went to do my usual check—to make sure everyone was sleeping well and hand out a few last kisses—and of course all the beds were empty (sob).
Funny how when they are here, all you can think of is a few moments of peace. But the minute they are gone, the silence is consuming. I had to turn the radio on for most of the day. Then Daisy filled the void with some choice crying (turns out the kid has lungs after all).
I can already tell that I won't be a good empty-nester. Sorry Tyler.


p.s. I feel I owe an apology to some neighbors. Turns out over the last two days, my mother and Daisy were both throwing up (both of which did not eat any of the food brought in), so maybe it was viral after all. All parties are absolved of any suspicion, and I am sorry if I ever made you question your cooking. Bake on neighbors...bake on.

When it Rains, it Pours

There is the headline.

Tyler's work was offering free tickets to an Owlz game. We thought it would be nice to take Mom and Tim while they were here. My mom really enjoys baseball, and Tim would enjoy playing with the girls at the playground. I of course was not going to go because Daisy is still a bit young to take out in a crowd. Tyler felt bad leaving me at home, but I told him I would be fine snuggling with my little one.
I settled in for an evening alone, content to crosstitch when she was sleeping and play with her when she wasn't. I turned on The Sting which I haven't seen in ages (totally worth the view if you haven't seen it) and was thoroughly enjoying myself.
Half way through the movie, I paused to go upstairs and change thread colors. While strolling past the loft, I looked out the window and noticed that it was a bit wet. Hmmm, I wonder if it rained on the family at all?? This thought barely passed through my mind when the front door opened and six sopping people came into the house. They all seemed to be in high spirits despite their rather damp clothing. My evening alone ended rather abruptly, but I didn't mind.

It was really fun to have my mom and nephew here for the week.

They are safely back in Washington now, but they will be missed. Thanks again for coming you two. Next time you see us, Daisy won't be the same at all. I am already worried about how fast time will go. She is already two weeks old today. Where is my pause button? Or at least could I turn off the fast-forward?

Love is in the air

I feel with this baby, we have had so much love poured on us. Dinners were brought in, people watched my children at the drop of a hat. People are still offering to help out whenever we need it. Some have dropped off gifts (one anonymously) and shown support in so many ways. I feel so blessed to be surrounded by friends and family who have taken care of us. I am trying diligently to get thank you cards out, but I already feel I am going to miss someone important. I am also thankful to those who have offered help that has not been needed yet. It really calms me to know that if I DO need something, there are plenty of people willing to help.
Just last night a sweet sister in my ward brought by a cake (she heard someone had a birthday). It was just one more thoughtful thing that filled my cup to overflowing.

Thank you everyone! My family and I feel so loved and blessed.

What a man, what a man, what a man...

...What a mighty good man!

Yesterday my shoulders felt so tense. I had so much pain in them that I actually considered a massage. Something many people don't know about me...I don't really like massages. But I was sore enough that if a massage could help, I was willing to get one (I know, you are all thinking...what a sacrifice Maleen).
I called Tyler and mentioned that my shoulders ached and he jumped right on it. He told me to call a sister in my ward who does massage, but when she wasn't home, he immediately scheduled a massage for me at another place.
So, I found myself getting a massage this morning. It wasn't terrible. In fact, the lady giving the massage turned out to be an old friend, Jenn, from Pizza Factory (where I worked a million years ago). It was so great catching up with her and just passing the time listening to Dido and getting some knots out of my shoulders. I do feel much better after the whole thing...but I am still not a massage fan in general.
I talked with Jenn a bit afterwards and I heard how she had narrowly escaped a bad marriage and I had to thank my lucky stars once again for the amazing man I have married. Here he is watching his four kids (one of them a new born) and practically forcing his wife to go get a massage so she can feel better. Why am I so lucky? What did I do to deserve such a mighty good man?
One thing is for sure...I'm holdin' on to this one, he ain't gettin' away easy.

* If you'd like to know, I went to Wasatch Therapeutic Massage and Acupressure. If you chose to go with an apprentice, they have very reasonable prices. I recommend them.

Holy Chunks Batman, I Poisoned My Nephew

So, double crossing your fingers may not have the effect I was looking for. Monday night I was walking around with Daisy saying goodnight to the girls. I heard Ivory make some noise from her room so I walked in to check on her. As I entered the room, she stood up by the rails and I walked closer to see what she needed. A little too close maybe, since I had to jump away to avoid the fountain of vomit that proceeded forth. Poor little thing, you could practically see the whole grapes coming back up from dinner. I let out a shriek and yelled, "Tyler come quick, Ivory just hurled all over the place." From the other room I heard June say, "What is hurl?" It is her new favorite word for throwing up because the next morning when Tim and G'ma came over she kept telling them that Ivory 'hurled' all over her bed. Like the other girls, Ivory got over it quickly and by the morning she was herself again.

Now, let's rewind to Monday afternoon. My mother and nephew came over that morning and they are staying for a week (in a hotel) to help out. We originally thought we would have Daisy late which is why they planned for this week, but it all worked out in the end. I feel great and I don't need as much help, so my mom can relax a little and we can both cook and clean as we need to. My mother was kind enough to do the shopping on Monday, and I had most of the kids as lunch time rolled around. Tim especially was getting hungry and I had plenty of leftovers on hand...

*This is where I need to put my disclaimer. Although all of us had been sick (except Ivory at the time) and it seemed to be food related, I still wasn't positive that it was food that was brought in. And plus, I hate to waste stuff. So...

I fed Tim some of the leftovers. I won't disclose which ones because I don't want neighbors to feel badly. I promise that I don't blame anyone for our bout with the porcelain. I never would have fed him bad food on purpose (and I myself ate some of the leftovers--just not the same ones). I might have given him something else but we were short on groceries and my mom wasn't back yet. Can you see that I am really trying to justify my position here?

I'm sure the end of this story is painfully clear. I got a call bright and early this morning from the hotel. Tim was throwing up! There is no one to blame but littl' ol' me. I officially poisoned my nephew.

I threw out all the leftovers this morning. Or should I save some for mom?

The Sabbath: Day of Rest

I can't even tell you the last time we had the WHOLE family settle down for a nap, altogether. This Sunday afternoon, we managed to get everyone asleep.
Of course, it helped that two of us had been throwing up and another two had diarrhea. The things that I have to do to my children to make them take a nap. Not really...I would much rather have them awake than throwing up on my carpets (which really need a good cleaning now, blat!) Daisy and Ivory seem to be the only ones unaffected (fingers crossed and then crossed again—does that take away the first crossing?)
I couldn't help snapping this picture because Daisy is so cute folded into the crook of his arm. Please excuse the partial nudity. We'll rate this post PG-13.

Happy Blogaversary to Me!

In all the excitement, I almost missed my own blogaversary. It has been exactly one year since my very first post. I have now logged a year of memories and you have been here to share them with me. So whether you are an old reader, or a new reader or my most faithful reader (my husband, since I MAKE him read everything) please pause a moment and celebrate with me. You know how the song goes.

Happy Blogaversary to me...

The Tower of Babel, Idaho

There is a relatively popular story in the Bible referred to by many as “The Tower of Babel.” For generations it has fascinated young and old alike and reminded us namely that following the Lord is important; but secondarily that lacking clarity in language is not all that enjoyable. Indeed the “confusion” spoken of in the Bible was a curse upon the people.

It just so happens there is such a curse in action even today. An evening’s journey to the north lies a city named Idaho Falls, or is it Eagle Rock, or was it Taylor’s Crossing (look it up on wikipedia). It seems there was some CONFUSION about the NAME!

There in Idaho Falls lives a man named, “David,” but nobody calls him that. Most actually call him, “Barry,” but we call him “Grandpa.” Wow, there are so many names it’s confusing…

The thing about Grandpa is that he had a certain name in mind for little Daisy. To be fair, it wasn’t a bad name. It was a great name, and out of respect (and because we may yet use it for a future child), I won’t disclose it here.

A curious set of circumstances created an ideal setting for a hilarious coup on Daisy’s middle name. Maleen and I have been working to set the middle name, and it’s been incredibly difficult to agree on a name that fits little Daisy. She’s been Daisy for months, but Daisy what?

Grandpa capitalized on this situation. We called people and told them that they should look on the blog for the revelation of the heavily anticipated name (which we finally agreed on because Maleen was drugged). The buzz was too much to pass up. People started calling Dad, and he started handing out middle names—not the same ones! So to some he gave Daisy May; and to others Daisy Belle. Who knows what else was on the list? Martha, Margrette, Angel, Ann, Gretchen, Birtha, Ruth, Starla, Runt! Who knows!

So we were rather surprised when people started calling us to tell us “Congratulations on the birth of Daisy ___________!”

Just a little reminder that…well, I’m not sure what this is supposed to remind me of. I’m sure there’s a name for it, but I’m so confused I can’t remember.

The Rest of the Rest of the Story

Tyler did such an excellent job telling Daisy's delivery story that I really don't need to add much. However, this is my journal and it would probably be appropriate to add a few of my thoughts about the day (and a whole lot more pictures of course). I know a slide show would do much of the same thing, but as I plan to make this into a book, I like each photo to be there individually. And for those of you who like to scan through a post, there is plenty to look at.

So, in the end, I did go into labor by myself (so to speak). I was hoping for this all along, and it was a little nerve-racking because as Tyler mentioned I couldn't decide whether to go the hospital or not. It was very much like having my first baby and I didn't want to get sent away from the hospital on a false alarm (or call Keri over to my house at 2:30 in the morning for no reason). Fortunately it was the real thing.

I can't say that I prefer going into labor by myself. It was definitely more exciting, but the whole process seemed slower. Normal contractions come 3-7 minutes apart, but when I'm induced they are only 1-2 minutes apart. Comfortwise, that is a bit more painful, but once you get an epidural, it is all the same. I seem to dilate faster with pitocin (go figure) so labor goes faster when you are induced (which is not a bad thing in my opinion). Besides the fact that you don't have painful contractions until you actually get to the hospital.
Then there is the matter of choosing a day. It was fun to have her come on her own and I was lucky that she came on my half-birthday (pretty easy day to remember huh?) But I admit that I sometimes like to choose the birthday for my child. So yay for going into labor by myself, but being induced has some positives as well.

Now for my thoughts on section "C". Truthfully, I never want to have one, but I am all for the safety of my child before anything else. When the doctor started mentioning the ominious 'C' word, I swallowed my pride and decided right there that I would do what was necessary, but it freaked me out. You don't go through labor for eight hours and then hope that you can just be cut open instead.
I had imagined being on the bed and being wheeled through the hallway (much like the movies) with the lights going by overhead, so it was surreal when it actually came time for that. I was very calm the entire time because I wouldn't let myself get upset (what is the point?). I tried to detach from the situation as much as possible and breathe evenly. I was still intent on pushing with all my might and it certainly didn't help that they filled my epidural to the max when we got into the sterile room. Before, I could feel my toes and some of the contractions, but by the time they were finished, I was trying to decide whose legs they were moving around down there, because they sure weren't mine anymore (they were soooo numb). And then, just as I couldn't be any more numb, they say "push". Yeah, let me get right on that.
I am still amazed that your body can push just by you willing the muscles to do what they normally do. I probably pushed for ten minutes (three contractions), but they didn't give me much time to breathe. I focused in on Tyler's voice and listened to his encouragements, and thank goodness, Daisy finally made her appearance.
In the moment, I would have done the C-section, but later when I was recovering, I can not tell you how happy I was that I was not worrying about stitches and keeping my baby off my stomach.

There has been some debate as to who she looks like. I will give you my opinion, but you are welcome to make your own (most people do). When her eyes are closed, she sometimes reminds me of Ivory, but when her eyes are open, she is a pretty good mix of June and Robyn (I decided this after looking back at their baby pictures).

Regardless, she definitely belongs in our family somewhere.

The family came to visit me in the hospital and the girls are thrilled with her. Everyone took a turn holding her.

And kissing her.

This picture is my favorite with Robyn rubbing noses with her.

I am wondering when holding her will get 'old' because I still hear frequent requests to hold her. I give it a week (hopefully).

I actually really enjoy the food at the hospital, but other than that, I get terribly bored. By Thursday I couldn't wait to get out of there, but the doctor had forgotten to discharge me so we sat around an extra hour or so waiting to leave. I think Tyler got a taste of my boredom because he was resorting to extreme tactics to entertain himself.

By the end we were testing security to see what we could get away with. Technically you can't have a baby out of the room unless she's IN the bassinet. I heard nurses yelling at a dad earlier. Look at us breaking the rules (ha ha-we're all the way on the other side of the hallway!).

Now she is home and we are loving her to pieces. Sometimes we have to find creative places to put her to give her a moments rest,

but I can only imagine that she will grow from all the love she is getting.

The Rest of the Story

You already know that that at 10:46 this morning, Daisy Cazier made her debut here on the stage we call “Earth.” You’re already aware that she clocked in at 6 lb 9 oz, and measured 19 inches. And as you’re informed, she’s got a beautiful sprinkling of dark peach fuzz for a hat.

And now, the rest of the story.

For three children now, Maleen has made friends with a chemical compound named Oxytocin, a generic concoction for the renown over-due pregnant lady’s best friend, Pitocin. Maleen, in absolute defiance of precedent, has been mentally forcing her body into labor: “I will go into labor by myself. I will go into labor by myself. I will…” I believe she’s already mentioned that one should be careful what one wishes for, or one may be surprised by how readily the fates obey.

This morning Maleen awoke with a start at about 1:00. Dutiful husband, I was awake—anticipating her pregnant needs (okay that’s total BS—I was actually playing a computer game: shame on me). She’d been having contractions throughout the evening and now they were too powerful to sleep through. She awoke and started into the “hee-hee-hooooooo” breathing patterns that tell a husband something’s up.

A debate followed. The funny thing about this debate is that I wasn’t part of it: Maleen argued both sides aloud. During contractions, the argument went something like this, “Tyler, I think it’s time we went to the hospital. Tyler, now!” And then the contraction would pass, and she’d say, “No… Nevermind. False alarm. I’m okay. Turns out it was just a dud.” Back and forth she’d go about every eight or ten minutes.

It was like we were having our first child. We scheduled everything before! We didn’t know when to go into the hospital.

This endless un-winnable debate continued for nigh an hour until I recognized a distinct increase in the ferocity of the “Tyler, we’re going NOW” side of the argument. I finally proposed this test (Men, never do this unless you’re certain you’re between contractions), “Maleen, do you think you could drive to the hospital by yourself? That way we don’t need to call someone and wake them up at 2:00 in the morning.”

It was answered with, “Oh, that’s a good idea. I could totally drive myself, then you could come later for the delivery.” I went back to my computer game.

She discovered this was in fact a test and then, as if on queue, a contraction started. She grabbed the bag she’d been packing, handed it to me, and indicated in a forceful fashion it was time to be on the road to the hospital.

This time I did not question her. I grabbed the bag, called our emergency contact—Keri Scoresby, and off we went.

Thank you, btw, Keri for coming over to the house in the middle of the night—it made all the difference.

Upon arriving at the hospital we had to go through the check in process amid contractions. (If you haven’t already pre-registered—do it, it saves all kinds of time. Besides the nurses might give you sort of a sour face when you show up to have the baby and you haven’t filled out your paperwork yet.) We finally got admitted and they tested everything and decided that we were in fact in labor—light labor, but labor none the less. Yay!

Then comes the numbers game. We started at a 2 on Monday morning after a membrane stripping. When we got admitted on Tuesday morning at roughly 3:00 a.m. we were at a 4. Things progressed pretty well from there. To guys this numbers game is a simple explanation of how long we have to wait—it’s like a reverse launch countdown. So there we were at T minus 6. The next hour brought not very much sleep, more contractions, and T minus 5. The next hour followed suit and brought us to what we would later discover was a screeching halt at T minus 4.

At T minus 4 (i.e. dilated to a 6), it was time for the epidural. If you’ve never watched this take place, you haven’t lived. They bring out this gargantuan catheter—they don’t even call it a needle. They may as well call it a pipeline for how huge it is. They’ve got little yardage markers on it so they can tell what layer of skin / muscle / bone / spinal fluid piece they’re at. At each down-marker, the anesthesiologist prodded around a bit and found where he was going to make his next short-drive and tapped the back of the pipeline with his hand until it popped through. It’s so insane it’s memorizing. Anyway, epidural went in great and contractions became much more bearable for the misses.

At 5:00 a.m. I went down to get breakfast. I could only imagine Maleen was starving, but they don’t let her eat anything on account of the fact that they don’t want to be wearing what she was eating during a contraction. Me on the other hand, I wasn’t going through this on an empty stomach! So I went down and ordered up some breakfast and took the opportunity to call some family to alert them to our situation.

When I returned to the room, I found that we hadn’t progressed any more, and we settled in for the tedious wait of checking things every 15 to 30 minutes and making sure NOTHING has changed. We tried to get some snatches of sleep—have you ever tried to sleep for 15 minutes at a time? I was trying to look like I was alert every time a nurse came in. I felt like I was back at college during one of those boring lectures when your head is bobbing up and down and you are staring through the speaker… It’s always the same, the person doing the trick always feels like their trick is convincing; everyone around them knows they’re 95% asleep. It’s funny to look back on.

At about 8:00 a.m. I decided that I needed to check on the kids, get them dressed, fed, watered, potty-ed, etc. With the countdown hung at T minus 4, I decided it wasn’t going to be too bad to take off and check on the chillins. I departed with a kiss, and blazed home to meet my kids. It turns out they were ALL still asleep. Awesome. Robyn must have heard my voice downstairs as I discussed strategy with Keri. She showed up at the bottom of the stairs, officially the first one to wake up. And officially the first miniature Cazier to discover that Daisy was on her way, TODAY!

Robyn was pretty excited. Keri left to get her own family ready for the day, we agreed that I would drop off kids in about 45 minutes and she’d have them until my family got bigger.

Accordingly, I woke Ivory and June and explained that today was Daisy’s big day. They were all excited and plowed through breakfast. They all hit the potty, got dressed, and were ready in what I consider to be record time.

As quickly as I had arrived, I departed, leaving the children with Keri, and returning to T minus 4.

Meanwhile back at the hospital, things were not carrying on as mundanely as I had anticipated. Daisy had decided it was time to get something done—so she started ramming her head in the direction instinct told her was the only way out. The only problem was that the wall blocking the way out hadn’t been disassembled quite yet.

And so Daisy joined the rank of every mini Cazier—she started having labor distress. We figure this is normal for everyone since it happens for EVERY one of our children. The doctors assure us we’re an outlying case, but for us 100% is a tough number to argue at. She started having substantial decelerations in her heart rate during contractions and people started talking about the C section.

Tyler didn’t want to watch the game from the C section, so I didn’t buy seats in the C section. I bought seats in a different section entirely—the “Way God Intended It” section. I didn’t like the sound of this C section.

Daisy managed to stabilize and found her way back to normal labor, but now the contractions were coming more frequently and it only took a matter of time to reach T minus 3, and T minus 2. Unfortunately, each T minus brought new bouts of challenges from Daisy. She appeared to be getting worse with each step closer to delivery. On paper it looked like the closer she was getting to entering this life, the closer she was getting to leaving it.

And so the doctor bought us some seats in the notorious C section and tossed me a set of haz-mat coveralls and started wheeling Maleen and Daisy into another, much more-like-the-tv-shows room. There the anesthesiologist punched the last of the epidural as numbing for what was about to be a belly cut. He informed us rather matter-of-factly that we had a few minutes for this to kick in and then they were going to do some cutting. We were now at a solid T minus 1, but not quite ready for lift off.

As for me and my miniature humans, I didn’t like the idea. Maleen could only apologize that she’d kept her stomach so free of stretch marks only to be marred by a scar. This amazing control caught me a little off guard. She’s quite the trooper, my little Maleen. The doc came over and explain that while we were waiting, we didn’t have anything to lose by doing a few rounds of pushing. We heartily agreed and a very-motivated Maleen pulled off some amazing feats of superhuman strength and contortion. The result of these amazing pushes and stretches was the appearance of little Daisy’s head.

Well, the doctor jumped right on that! He grabbed the vacuum (this is a cool little device I must see again), suctioned it onto her little head and as carefully as one can control an outright yank, extracted Daisy at precisely 10:46 a.m. from a rather tight spot.

And then we discovered the reason for the labor stress: Daisy had a full knot cinched in her umbilical cord. It wasn’t around her neck—it was just cutting off all circulation. I wish I’d shot a photo of that, but I was a little busy. It turns out that each contraction dropped her a little farther in the path to freedom, thus tightening the knot and causing her to not enjoy the lack of oxygen and blood.

A few quick cuts severed the cord, some nice bulb work from the one of the green-clad docs and little Daisy Grace just screamed away at us. She was finally here.

Happy doesn’t begin to describe it.

There was outright cheering in the room. I trailed the package into the other room to make sure all was well, and it was.

Here are the first pics we took after the delivery. We’re back in the non C-section seats now.

From there, of course I followed her to the nursery where little Daisy endured another 90 minutes of cleaning, testing, shots, blood draws, etc. She did NOT like her bath.

When I finally brought her back to Mom, she was spent. She was sleeping soundly and convinced there wasn’t anything anybody could do to wake her up. She slept peacefully while I started making phone calls.

And now you know the rest of Daisy Grace’s story.

Daisy Is Here!

Daisy has arrived. This is not going to be the in-depth post that many of you are looking for, but it will at least communicate the important vital facts:

• Both Mom and Daisy are in excellent health with no concerns about future health.
  
• Maleen DID go into labor by herself--she wasn't induced this time!
  
• Daisy was born at precisely 10:46 in the a.m.
• She weighs in at 6 pounds 9 ounces of pure, unadulterated, beautiful baby
  
• She stretches all of 19 inches
  
• She's got a smattering of hair on top--not really enough to part, but enough to add some style up north

To be clear, Daisy DOES have a middle name, and it will be revealed in the next post. Here's a taste of the pictures to come:

Feeling great...sort of.

I went to the doctor today and I am dilated to a 2!! Ha ha.
Those were magical words. I have never dilated on my own before being induced. They usually tell me I am almost a one (if that), so I am feeling pretty good. Of course, this doesn't mean that I will have the baby soon necessarily, but I do have hope that I may go into labor by myself, and maybe even this week.
This is all very new and exciting for me.
Plus, I am starting to feel very uncomfortable. I am sure that the baby is feeling a bit squished too, so it would make us both happy if we could get this whole show on the road.

Precious Moments

(The real kind, not the weird dolls.)



I am loving little Ivory right now and all her cute mannerisms. We had this conversation after I changed her diaper today.

Mom: I love you.

Ivory: I love you too.

Mom: Thank you.

Ivory: You're welcome.

Mom: You are so cute.

Ivory: Yeah, I'm super cute.


She is too.

Alphabet Tag

I apologize. I meant to do this a long time ago, but I have been blogging about other things.

A--Attached or Single? Firmly attached.
B--Best Friend? Tyler.
C-- Cake or Pie? Pie, usually.
D-- Day of Choice? My birthday of course, oh, you mean day of the week?? Maybe Monday?
E-- Essential Item? Clothes…people stare when I walk around naked.
F--Favorite Color? Green.
G-- Gummy Bears or Worms? Worms, totally.
H-- Hometown? Tacoma, WA.
I-- Indulgence(s)? Cheesecake, and shopping for myself.
J-- January or July? January is my birthday, but I like all the months for some reason.
K-- Kids? 4 Girls (June, Robyn, Ivory, and Daisy)
L-- Life is Incomplete Without? Sleep, good food, family, and friends.
M-- Marriage Date? Dec. 22, 1999.
N-- Number of siblings? 1 sister and 1 adopted brother.
O-- Oranges or Apples? Oranges or orange juice.
P-- Phobias or fears? Spiders, yuck.
Q-- Quotes? Um…yeah I like the good ones when I can remember them.
R-- Reason to Smile? I will have a baby soon!
S-- Season? Spring and Fall.
T-- Tag 5 People? Anyone who wants to do this. I would like to read it.
U-- Unknown Fact? I don’t like country songs, but they make me cry. Stupid country music.
V-- Very Favorite Store? What am I buying?
W-- Worst Habit? I bite my nails, probably will forever.
X-- Xray or Ultrasound? Ultrasound, because usually that means you have a baby and not a broken bone.
Y-- Your Favorite Food? Anything that tastes wonderful.
Z-- Zodiac? Capricorn.

Hello...My name is Cinderella

As you know, Cinderella had mice friends that helped her do many things when she was busy with other chores. I seem to have mice of my own. June and Robyn have been up to sneaky plans when I am not there.

The other night, I was watching a show and the kids were in bed (so to speak). I could hear them moving around upstairs but I was too exhausted to care. They weren't fighting so I figured I would ignore the pitter-patter back and forth.
Eventually my show ended and I decided that I should probably put them back in bed. I went upstairs and they were both in my room....CLEANING! They had already cleaned their room and the loft and they were working their way across the entire upstairs. They were so proud of themselves. "Look what we did!" they exclaimed.
How could I be mad at them? I told them I felt like Cinderella when she comes up and finds her dress all finished. "It's beautiful!" I told them. I asked them if they were being my helper mice friends and they just smiled.
They finally fell asleep and when I checked on them, I found their beds made and they were sleeping on top of the covers. What little sweeties.

Tyler came home later and I was talking to him when I discovered this funny thing: the girls had found a dollar crumpled under the desk in the our room and one of them (probably Robyn) had just thrown it away (after all, they were cleaning). I looked in the garbage and thought, "Why is there money in the trash? Oh, it is my little mice hard at work." I should probably explain at some point that we don't throw money away, even if it is a bit wrinkled.

A Pivotal Day

I look forward to this day during my whole pregnancy. Today I bought milk and by the time it expires I should have a baby. 'Should' being the operative word.

God Bless America

I firstly want to say that I love this holiday. There is something very special about celebrating freedom and independence. Tyler and I were discussing that the true meaning of the Fourth of July is often lost amid barbeques and fireworks. (Could it really be true that we have lost the meaning of 4th of July more than the meaning of Christmas?) We are very blessed to live in this country and I challenge each of you to get your family together and read the Declaration of Independence and/or the Constitution. Our children should know something about our country.

Our family had a great fourth. We went bright and early to see the hot air balloons.

I have always thought about going but we never attended until this year. Wow, there was quite a crowd. We didn't get there until 6:30a and by then all the balloons were full and ready to lift off.

We watched them all take off and then we went home. Next year I want to come a little earlier and have breakfast on a blanket while the balloons fill. The girls really seemed to enjoy looking at the balloons; it was just hard to wake people up in the morning.

From there we went home for a leisurely morning of getting ready for family pictures (see previous post). I am very pleased that while we were at the mall, I stopped by the HerStyler booth and had them show me how to use the flat-iron I bought a couple of months ago. We curled all the girls' hair (after the pictures—too bad) but now I finally know how to use that thing. It has been lying there confounding me for too long. Now that I know how to use it, I hope I will bring it out more often.

Next, we stopped by the Freedom Festival in Provo, but it was soooo crowded. Tyler and I quickly decided that it wasn't worth the time nor effort to be there; so we bought a funnel cake, split it with the family and headed home where we napped all afternoon off and on. Everyone was a little tuckered out after the early morning. Ivory and Robyn both fell asleep in the car on the way home and Tyler and I didn't make it through the whole afternoon. Only June (who seems to need less sleep) stayed awake the whole time.

In the evening we went over to the Scera Park for our annual barbecue and water games (okay, so this is only the second year).

The Johnson's and the Kinsey's joined us, and we had a lot of fun. Tyler grilled burgers and we chowed down on some good food. And then (even though it was quite overcast) we played in the water. I think the best game by far is Duck, Duck, Goose using a sponge to tap people on the head. Everyone was fairly wet by the end of that game. Here is most of us.

Then we played some other water games but mostly it devolved into find something holding water and splash the person nearest you.

This was fun until some of the kids were absolutely soaked (at one point, I think June didn't have a dry spot on her shirt). So to ease the chill, we ate cake and then headed home once again to clean up and dry off (somehow, it is not as bad to be soaking if you can eat cake at the same time).

Then we did the firework thing (of course). The Johnson's were nice enough to join us again and they brought some great ones with them (thanks for the tanks and the finale fireworks). The girls were thrilled to sit and watch all the action around them. This picture cracks me up because Robyn's face is so animated.

She really liked the fireworks. June (who has been watching too much So You Think You Can Dance) was judging all the fireworks. She would say, "I'm the first judge and I thought that was fantastic." Then she started giving a score for each firework. They started small...25, 42, 80 (Sunny, I think we figured it out: it was cumulative scoring). Eventually the score reached the hundreds, then thousands, millions, zillions, and finally infinity. We must have had the best fireworks ever, or maybe she is a very generous judge. We had fun with the glow-sticks and sparklers too.

The pictures weren't always the best because of the lack of light, but here is one of all the kids. This was taken during a loud firework (can you tell by Robyn plugging her ears).

Ivory didn't like that one either.

Finally the fun came to a close, and everyone crashed in bed. It was a great day though (thanks again to those who came and shared the festivities with us). We hope that you all had a wonderful day enjoying your family and the country we love.