The Prettiest Hand This Side of the Mississippi

Ten years and one day ago, Tyler and I entered a temple and were sealed for time and all eternity. Not bad huh? Fastest ten years of my life, even including the four kids we managed to get here during that time. We hemmed and hawed over what we should do for our ten year anniversary and really we never came up with anything very exciting. (This could be due to my condition—it's just not as much fun to plan a getaway when you are sick or extremely uncomfortable.)

Last year I swore that we would celebrate in June because December is so busy, but that didn't happen either. And so we set out last night for dinner in a light snowfall. (Much better than last year when it was practically a blizzard.) But not before the MAN himself surprised me with this...



This would be a good time to tell you about the first ring Tyler got me. In my mind I always pictured that men go out and find a ring and then propose to the girl they love. Well, we kinda did things out of order. We figured out we wanted to get married, Tyler proposed, and then we went ring shopping. I didn't want him to get the wrong thing, so I went along. It is a lot of pressure to pick out a ring to wear all day, every day, forever. And in the end, I was more concerned about price, so we picked something I liked that was on sale.

Now trust me, I liked my ring, but I always regretted that it wasn't something Tyler picked out and surprised me with. I mentioned this to him and somehow I came out of the conversation feeling guilty because I should LOVE my wedding ring. So, I put my heart into loving my ring (which I do) and dropped the thought of getting what HE would have picked. Tyler however did not drop the idea. Instead he spent some time and energy figuring out what I loved in jewelry and finding the perfect creation.

I'll admit, when I opened that little box, I cried a little. It is so beautiful and exactly what I wanted, and HE picked it for me. What a perfect gift for ten years. I felt like we were getting engaged all over again. I told him that my hands weren't pretty enough to wear such a gorgeous ring, so he told me to go get my nails done. So, I'm not sure if I do the 51 diamonds justice, but here is the end result.



What do you think? Should I keep him another ten years?

Oh, and you should really see this ring in person. A picture is worth a thousand words, but the actual thing is breathtaking.

The Good Ole Days

Remember when you were a kid and you weren't in charge of anything for Christmas? All you had to do was show up. Ahhh, how I long for those days. I mean, not really, because I like being the one who gives and I love to see the expressions on my children's faces. But when I look at our little countdown chain and I only see four links on it, I am gripped more by anxiety than excitement. I am looking forward to Christmas, but I may not have my act together when it comes to presents and preparations.

And let's be realistic...husbands are helpful, but we know who is really in charge of stockings, neighbor gifts (once again, sorry we skipped it this year), presents, baking, scheduling, extended family stuff (I have finally convinced my husband that he should shop for his OWN family), cards, decorating, etc. This season is magical, but I can tell you who is holding the wand. (Pipe down men, you know it is true and you wouldn't want a wand anyway.)

I do have one thing checked off. Tricia and I went to Color Me Mine and made cookie plates this year. It was so much fun.



Granted I still need to make the cookies that will go on it, but I will feel a lot more satisfaction eating them this year. (Ahem, I mean, letting Santa eat them.)

Relinquishing Control

I can admit that when it comes to making something, I am quite anal (or concrete sequential as some might say) about the process and end product. Everything must be done a certain way. (Usually following directions.) And everything must look a certain way when it is finished. This is probably why I am better at crosstitching then sewing; one you just make a whole bunch of little x's—the other you need real skill.

Anyway, I like to make Christmas sugar cookies each year. It lets the kids create and I can work on finding a good recipe (note to self: the one you used this year...not so great). In previous years, I would frost the cookies then help the children with the sprinkles. This probably wasn't as fun for the kids, but it did get the result I desired.

I'm not proud of my micro-managing, so I decided to let it go this year. I helped the kids cut shapes out of the dough, we baked, and then I put everything on the table...sprinkles, frosting, gel writers, you name it. I put in on the table, gave a few simple instructions and let them go. Yep, I dropped those baby birds right out of the nest and they flew amazingly well.




Granted, the end result was not what I would have done...but that is probably a good thing. I think they all turned out fabulous.



I did use more of the ones I decorated for the neighbors we caroled to, but the children were happy to keep their own creations to sample. (Isn't reverse psychology wonderful sometimes?)

In the end I was happy with the whole experience. I will probably do it the same way next year and the kids are just going to get better at decorating (meaning I hope they don't waste as many sprinkles and gel icing). And this is a step in the right direction for me. I think relinquishing a little control is not so bad.

On the 4th Day of Christmas...

My true love gave to me...

Four beauties under the tree.



Technically we took these right before our ward Christmas party. I made them all dress in red and somehow that ended up being dresses, so I figured it was as good a time as any to take a picture of the four of them together.

Ivory is a bit in shadow, but none of the pictures were perfect. This is my favorite of the bloopers—June was going to make Daisy smile.

Super Hero Envy

Tyler got a little jealous of Daisy getting all the attention, so he decided to join in.



Now he is passing on his super hero knowledge, like how to fly.



Together, they should be able to kill time and vanquish sensibility.

Imagine the damage she could do with coal though.

Today was one of those days that you wish you had a rewind button. Maybe a delete button would work as well. I was downstairs folding laundry and Daisy was upstairs being quiet. I was thankful that she had found something to do besides pull the folded laundry off the couch. That is...until I went upstairs and saw what she was doing.

She was surrounded by toothpaste; on her clothes, mouth, hands, and all over the carpet. I think she was dipping her finger in the tube and alternating between smearing it on the floor and eating it. I should have taken a picture, but it was one of those moments where immediate action was required. I went right to work stripping her down and then cleaning up after her. In case you were wondering, baking soda and vinegar do a great job taking toothpaste out of carpet. (With a little scrubbing, naturally.)

Several hours later I was on the phone with my sister-in-law telling her why I am worried about taking Daisy to Washington for Christmas. "She is just so busy. Speaking of which, I haven't heard her for a few minutes...I should go check on her." Spoken too late...

She had managed to pull out the chair at June's desk, climbed up and gotten into her paints. She was surrounded by paint; on her clothes, mouth, hands, and all over the desk. I should have taken a picture, but it was one of those moments where immediate action was required. I went right to work stripping her down and then cleaning up after her. In case you were wondering, you should only purchase paints that are water soluble. Period. Then it will come off things. (With a little scrubbing, naturally.)

I may need to talk to Santa because I'm pretty sure she is on the naughty list right now.

Super Daisy

Super powers include:

Being absolutely adorable.

Giving sweet hugs (usually to avoid having her nose wiped).

Eating Peas.

Faster than a pregnant mommy. (Or Daddy with a camera.)



Scaling tall chairs (or anything climbable).

Pretending to play quietly while secretly getting into trouble.

Ability to detect cookies through walls and doors.

She usually uses her powers for good, but I have seen her succumb to raiding her sisters' rooms for treasures. Then she will look shocked and innocent when she is caught.



When Tyler asked her for a fierce face, this is what she gave him.



I'm not fooled. She is mischievous to the core, but underneath she is just a big softy.

I am a Rock...

(Sing it with me)... I am an Island. Gotta love Simon and Garfunkle. And if you are too young to know who they are, we need to talk. (Or perhaps not, because you would probably be staring at all my wrinkles and white hairs while we conversed...so never mind.)

In the winter time, there is nothing like a warm bath to get my body temperature regulated again. I say warm, because I don't do so well in hot baths, but the concept is the same:

1. Dip your entire body in warmth
2. Soak
3. Try to avoid children joining you in the bath (this works better if you don't have all girls).
4. After you are toasty, get out of the bath, but dress quickly to trap the heat and secure the warm feeling. (A coat of lotion on your skin between those steps can do wonders to relieve dry skin from this wonderful Utah weather.)

Now, this is my recipe for when I get super chilled. Except, I have one problem at the moment. I don't fit under the water right now. Yep, you guessed it. The belly remains above water and creates a beautiful little island that stays COLD. I sat there in the tub yesterday evening lamenting that I can't actually fit this baby under the water unless I turn sideways. Then, I picked up Dora (do you also have kids toys in the adult bath tub?) and placed her on the island. She looked content sitting there, until...(duh, duh, duh), there were tremors in the ground. The whole island was unstable. There was definitely seismic activity. Dora survived the event. She was almost bucked off the island by the baby kicking, but in end she was saved by the Christmas Devotional starting and my having to exit the tub.



Who says that kids should have all the fun in the bath?

The Christmas Devotional by the First Presidency was excellent by the way, and reconfirmed all my feelings that Christmas has become too commercialized. This year we are trying to focus more on memories and activities than presents, and I'm trying not to get overwhelmed with the amount of stuff to squeeze in. This is going to be a lazy (yet meaningful) Christmas at the Cazier's. Hope you neighbors are okay without a neighbor gift this year. (Sorry, that one got axed this year, but will probably return in other years.)

Festivus for the Restivus

Today we braved the Festival of Trees. Since this is not only a journal, but a reminder of things, please note Maleen, to NOT attend on Saturday afternoon, since that seems to be when the rest of Utah decides to attend as well. I'm glad Tyler was in charge of parking, because it was a Darwinian experience—definitely survival of the fittest, or pushiest.

Once inside we started touring the trees. We all came with an item in mind (I SPY style, as Deanne puts it) and then we set to work locating our goal. Robyn found hers first. (Not surprising since she choose a snowflake.)



June was distraught that we didn't find hers right away, but we eventually found a rose,



followed closely by my strawberry. (Thank goodness for the Hungry Caterpillar.)



Ivory chose Elmo and we found him in two places. I am showcasing the gingerbread house because I LOVE that section.



It is amazing what people can do with food. I wish I had taken more pictures.

We did find some pink Daisies, which we chose for Daisy (I know, we are so original), but I thought it was more fitting that I found her name. (On a gun no less. It should make her Dad proud.)



Sadly we never found any legos for Tyler. We didn't see all the trees so perhaps the legos were hiding in the middle section.

Our trip usually goes something like this:
Peruse trees until children become bored. (I can sometimes stretch them to 15 minutes, but they really aren't that enthralled by the trees. Silly creatures.)

Find something to eat because no one gets bored of cinnamon rolls and scones. Plus, the parents love to find the messiest snack available just to make things interesting.



Shortly thereafter we wander over to the stage area to watch the dancing and entertainment. This is Tyler's favorite part and the girls seem to enjoy it as well.

Mom then begs to be allowed to go back to look at the gingerbread houses and more trees and if she is lucky she will be given a rendezvous time. (This year Tyler gave me twenty whole minutes to myself to explore. Yippy skippy.)

Somewhere in there we let the kids go over to the the Small Fry area and choose a treat (June chose her calendar again this year) and then it is time to go home.

Sometimes I feel it takes more time to drive there and back, but the memories seem to be sticking. June remembered a lot of what we did last year and everyone seemed to have a good time. Maybe some day I can even talk Tyler into taking me as a date so I can see more stuff, but in the meantime, I will chalk this one up to family time and take what I can get.



p.s. I love this picture because of the holey smiles, the fact that I didn't move three feet to the left to avoid shooting the door, and how Daisy's hair looks ridiculous. We are working on finding some kind of style for it, but it is a work in progress.

Ode to Emilie

I am sorry that I mentioned a meal yesterday without posting a recipe. I actually thought about including the recipe, but it was all the way downstairs in my kitchen (laziness at its best). So without further ado, I give you Emilie's Crock Pot Lasagna:

1 jar spaghetti sauce
Lasagna noodles
1 jar Alfredo sauce
Mozzarella cheese (1 lb.)
1 can of tomato paste (I don't actually use this ingredient)
1/2 lb browned hamburger (mix with spaghetti sauce and tomato paste)

Layer in this order until you run out of ingredients (I do two layers)

1. Sauce and meat
2. Noodles
3. Alfredo Sauce
4. Cheese

Cook on low for four hours

Ah...yumminess. Certainly not low-fat, but that is not what I am looking for after three hours of church. I want some serious comfort food.

Emilie, I don't know if you made this up, but it sure is tasty, and I hope you have your baby sooner than later. I have my fingers crossed.

Filling the Quota

Tomorrow I will post my last post for November, having officially blogged every day. I liked the challenge, but truthfully, I may not have enough intelligent things to say to fill a whole month. I liked the motivational factor, but I'll be the first to admit that, like hot dogs, my posts had some filler that was unneeded. It is better if I come to the computer with an idea, rather than thinking up an idea while I sit at the computer. Mostly because at the moment that usually results in a post about a) pregnancy, or b) being tired.

So in true fashion I'll let you know that I am pretty sure that I should stop wearing high heels for the rest of this pregnancy. I came home from church with two charlie horses in my calves. I also found out that one of the sisters in my ward is expecting the same month as I am. I didn't know until today because she isn't really 'showing'. I have been 'showing' since about August. Yep, you can give me all the yada-yada that this is her first pregnancy and this is my fifth, but a huge belly is still a huge belly, and it is on ME. I already love this baby though and know it is all worth it, so I will stop the drama train before anyone pulls the emergency brake.

In happier news, I think Tyler is almost back to normal. He is back to slapping me on the rear and making suggestive motions with his eyebrows, so I am fairly certain the worst is behind him. I will miss having him around; even when he is sick, he is still not too shabby a companion (did I mention that we are coming up on 10 years married? Um, anyone have any good anniversary ideas?)

And so, another sabbath passes. I should give a shout out to Emilie: Your crock-pot lasagna is the happiest thing to come home to after late church. I don't know what I will do next year when we get home at a reasonable hour. I want to say nap, but with four and a half children I would have to bind and gag at least three of them to get any decent sleep. Maybe I should ask for duct tape for Christmas. . .

Third Tooth's the Charm

June managed to hold onto her tooth this time. Well, that is for at least twenty minutes. She knew it was loose, so as we ran errands, she sat in the back on the car wiggling the heck out of it. We arrived home and I could see her bloodied fingers still hard at work. Not to be outdone, that tooth came out moments later. She was sooooo excited!!

She studied her prize and asked if perhaps she should clean it off (being still bloody). I told her that the tooth fairy would probably appreciate it. Minutes later, a sobbing June came out of the bathroom. It didn't take a rocket scientist to diagnose that while washing it, the tooth had slipped down the drain.

That girl has seriously bad luck holding on to those teeth. Luckily, her father is a superhero in disguise and he saved the tooth from the bowels of the sink. And after losing it only once more that evening, the tooth finally made it safely to the tooth pillow. The Tooth Fairy rewarded her a whole dollar for her efforts.

These kids sure make life interesting.

After several coats of Lysol, I am using my computer again.

Quarantine is slowly winding down around here, and that means I have been allowed back in my room for extended periods of time. Previous to now, I have not been in here but for mere moments and that means you have been very privileged to hear from my guest poster (may he continue to recover quickly). I myself have been a bit put out by the arrangements. I have been sleeping on the couch (not the most comfortable for the pregnant lady) and my Google Reader is exploding with posts I have yet to read myself (don't plan on any comments from me as I catch up on a week's worth of blogging).

Despite the downs of this week, there have actually been a few ups. First off, let's just be thankful that out of all the people in the family, Tyler got the flu. I hear it is terrible on pregnant women, and if one of the kids got it, how do you quarantine them? Tyler was very responsible about staying in his room and using hand sanitizer like it was going out of style. It was a bit like having my husband on a business trip, yet he was just hanging out upstairs. He couldn't help with the kids, he couldn't help with the chores, and still I brought him every meal in bed. Wait, this is shifting back towards the negative...back to the positive.

Tyler tends to get hit really hard at the beginning, but recover fairly quickly. I think he is still in the official 'contagion' period, but at least he isn't throwing up and most of his aches and pains are a thing of the past. He has been a real trooper through all the illness; probably more of a trooper than me since I keep having mini pity-parties for myself.

The biggest high from the whole experience was actually Thanksgiving. We have never had our own Thanksgiving because we always go to Idaho. After we found out that we shouldn't go there (being potential germ carriers), we decided to make the best of it and have our own feast. I'm thinking that it didn't turn out too badly. I'm proud of our endeavors and the girls loved eating at our house. Afterward we watched Night at the Museum which was on TV and then we all headed to bed. It was a great holiday. Tyler even joined in the festivities, with plenty of hand sanitizer nearby and promising not to cough on anyone (I told the children they could hit him if he coughed on them). Here is a bit of the grub.



June even made name tags for us all.



So although we didn't get out much this week, we were still all together as family and that is what is really important.

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving.

Katniss Everdeen

So when you're in quarantine, it turns out there's not much to do—go figure. Maleen's been hounding me for months to read "The Hunger Games, so after about twenty-some-odd hours of wandering around my room, I determined maybe it was time to listen to her. I picked up the first book of what I later learned is supposed to be a trilogy.

Now "supposed to be" and "are" are two VERY different things. Usually this isn't such a problem, but when you burn up the first book in a series in one day, the math is pretty easy. On the first day, finish the first book. On the second day finish the second book. On the third day finish the third book. Since I've got seven days total, and I didn't start until the second day that gives me something to do through the fifth of seven days. That all seemed pretty good to me.

Until I found out the trilogy isn't finished yet.

Come on people. She's not going to have it done until 2010. I'm only in quarantine until next week. News flash: next week is STILL 2009! This schedule will not do AT ALL.

So I've had to pace myself through the second one. I only allow myself one chapter every time I pick it up, and I allow that no more than once per hour. Even so, Catching Fire will only hold me until Black Friday. And THEN what am I supposed to do? Wait until 2010 like all the other Hunger Games addicts out there? I guess so. Maybe I'll start reading *gasp* Twilight instead. At least I know the whole story gets told in books I can get my hands on before 2010.

How do you people stand it? I hate not being able to finish the story! It's like driving two thirds of the way to Miami. Sure, you've seen some nice sites, but you're still NOT THERE YET.

Speaking of Miami, anybody seen Burn Notice (the series) on USA? Love it. I face the same problem as The Hunger Games though. I discovered the series last month at my parent's place. I borrowed season one from a friend, and burned that up in like two weeks (no pun intended). I'm about halfway through the second season and I feel guilty because now I know they're only halfway through the third season on live tv. Math's a little harder on this one, but I'm looking at disappointment sometime around January—no more Burn Notice for me. :(

Maybe by then the third book of the Hunger Games will be out.

btw, if you have no idea who Katniss Everdeen is, she's the star of the Hunger Games Trilogy. Here she is with co-star Peeta Mellark:

Quarantine is Lonely

If any of you are thinking it's time to get the swine flu, I advise against it. It's not really that much fun. My head hurts, but butt hurts (why? I don't know), my arms and legs hurt. Yesterday I found myself praying to the porcelain more than once. I have no appetite, which makes my stomach hurt all the more. Supposedly I had a fever, but that only manifests itself when I'm cold and shiver when everyone else in the house is just fine. I also had a cough, but that's subsided. I do notice a tightness around all my organs when I take a deep breath—sort like someone's squeezing them if you breathe too deep.

But that's not the worst of it.

The doctors say I have the swine flu, which carries a seven day contagion period. "No contact with anyone you don't want sick," they said. "You'll probably be able to eat Thanksgiving dinner, but you want to do it with not many people around: say alone, maybe." Ah, that's thoughtful. I can't wait to have my solitary Thanksgiving dinner.

Every year we make a Thankful Turkey for Thanksgiving. Everybody gets their own feather and you write things for which you're thankful on it. Everybody attaches their feather and then we can go back and see what we're thankful for in years to come. Pretty much every time, I write that I'm thankful for my family. The same family, I'm not allowed to eat Thanksgiving dinner with.

I'm sort of used to coming through the door to a barrage of hugs and kisses. There were no such hugs when I came home from the doctor. Mom had already explained that I couldn't give hugs. Robyn greeted me only with tears—you'd think somebody told her I was dying.

Anyway, now I lounge around my bedroom. I take turns going from the bathroom to the bed, to the computer, to the bed. Maleen brings me a plate of food every now and again. She dispenses medicine on the appropriate schedule. She brings me Gatorade when I'm thirsty.

Quarantine is lonely. I'm not taking to it well. I wish I could just hug my little ones. At least I have the Hunger Games to read. Maleen tells me it's good.

Cheaters Never Prosper

So the post last night was not me, really. Around 8 pm, June and Tyler were busy on the computer. I thought I would lie down on the bed and wait until a chair was free. When I did wake up, I half-heartedly asked Tyler to do a post for me.

"I can't," he said. "It is midnight right now." Wow, I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep for so long. So much for my twenty minute power nap. Sure enough, when Tyler tried posting, it registered as the next day.

But not to be outdone, he scouted around and found that you can choose what time it posts. He labeled our post last night as 11:45 pm even though it was later.

Then this morning, he woke up with the flu. Coincidence? I think not.

Last Minute Entry

I was here, I was just asleep. I told Tyler to catch it before midnight—and he did . . . sort of.

I tell ya, this whole blog every day thing: it's taxing! I don't know if I've got the rest of November in me or not. I guess we'll see.

. . . Oh, and a Slice of Cheese.

We went to Costco yesterday while Robyn was attending a birthday party at Pirate Island. So, blog post on hold for just a second: have you been to Pirate Island? It's like Disneyland crammed into a strip mall! Pretty dang cool if you ask me. And blog post off hold.

While Robyn was in the party, the rest of the family went to Costco to get some grocery items and dinner. (Yes, we're one of THOSE families.) Our grocery run was pretty speedy, and soon enough we found ourselves in line at the checkout. Maleen told me that we could pay for our grub right there in the checkout line. This is a foreign concept to me. It just doesn't feel right.

Now keep in mind that since Lethal Weapon II came out, I can count on one hand how many times I've been through the drive through. Leo's right, when you go through the drive through, they win. (You can watch the clip here, but be warned: it has explicit language in it. What? This was back in my apostate days!)

And if I won't go through a drive through, you know I can't order food at the check register! But Maleen's into this, so she places the order: "Ya, we'll have a polish dog, a hot dog, pepperoni pizza . . ." The guy at the register butts in: "A slice right?" Maleen: "Yes. By the slice. And a supreme pizza. . . Oh, and a slice of cheese."

Now this was news to me: I didn't know you could order a slice of cheese at Costco. "They do that?" I thought to myself. "Weird." It also seemed an odd request—I couldn't think of which dish this particular side would go with. And man! $1.99 for a slice of cheese! What a rip-off! But I wasn't about to question the pregnant lady! If she wants a slice of cheese with her supreme pizza, go for it. I'm not going to stand in the way. You husbands know what I'm talking about.

So Maleen herds the children over to the table and starts setting them up for the onslaught of chow. She hands me the receipt and directs me to the pick up window. Pick up window? What about the line of people going through, who haven't reached the pick up window? She pointed again to the pick up window, and again I did not argue.

When it was my turn, the guy behind the window says, "Okay what 'ev ya got?" I tried to respond like I knew what I was doing that this was old hat for me: "Ya, I've got a Polish (never use the whole word when an abbreviation will do—especially when you're trying to fit in), a hot dog, a pepperoni, a supreme, oh, and a slice of cheese." I enunciated rather particularly on this one, as if I didn't want him to get it wrong. "Slice of cheese, you do that right?" I repeated almost at a whisper, painstakingly pronouncing each syllable and opening my eyes as wide as they would go. After such elocution and emphasis I scrunched up my nose and added a knowing nod with a little cheek grin.

The guy looked at me like I was recently graduated from a special school then went off to get my order.

When he returned he rattled off the order as he gave me each plate: "One Polish dog. One hot dog. A slice of pepperoni. A slice of supreme. And last, but not least, a slice of cheese. He too had learned the knowing nod and cheek grin. He was very careful to enunciate properly as he handed me the slice of cheese pizza.

I accepted the plate and threw my head back at an awkward angle, focusing my eyes in space, and moving my pupils as if I were reading some invisible sign on a 45-degree angle over his head. "This was not a slice of cheese," I mumbled to myself. "This is a slice of cheese pizza." Quickly my mind started jumping hurdles and replaced the picture of golden cheddar sliced at about 1/8" inch thick, with a greasy triangle of bread laden with molten cheese. My brain kicked me (as if IT knew and I was just this sod thinking of dairy!)

When the slice of cheese pizza finally pushed aside the extremely vivid slice of exorbitantly priced cheddar, I looked back at the person behind the window. He was actually holding his belt, waiting for me to get out of the way, but too courteous to say anything.

I won't tell you how I felt after that. I think you all know. I'll just shut up now. Anyone for a slice of cheese?

Between Edward and Jacob...

...I choose Tyler.

My mother-in-law invited me up to Idaho today to watch New Moon on its opening day. I wanted to see the movie and would eventually, so it sounded like a lot of fun to watch it with my family up in Idaho. Tyler got the day off from work so that I could travel up there. Ivory was going to come with me and hang out with Grandma for a few days until Thanksgiving, but she was a tad bit sick, so it didn't seem like the best idea to take her up there. Since Ivory couldn't go, Tyler started thinking of all these reasons I shouldn't go. He wanted me to see family, he wanted me to see the movie, but in the long run, he just didn't want to be without me. Since I am the one with all the kids most of the time, I understand. Everything is so much easier as a team.

I still wanted to see family, I still wanted to see the movie, but in the end, I thought Tyler was more important and so I stayed. And I am glad I stayed. Because I was going to be gone, everything I got to do with my family seemed sweeter, more special. This morning, Tyler and I took the younger two girls shopping for candles and then out for snacks (i.e. cinnamon rolls and raspberry muffin tops at Kneader's). It was an ordinary activity turned extraordinary because I realized that every moment I have with them is a gift (even if I don't always appreciate them).

So Edward and Jacob, you will just have to wait. There is one man more important than both of you.

Wordless Thursday

Providence

Do you ever get annoyed when you run an errand, get home, only to find out that you forgot something or got the wrong thing? I did that this morning. I went to get velcro. I looked very hard at two packages. They were priced the same, seemed identical, except that one had 10 ft of velcro and the other had 5 ft. In the end, I got the one with ten feet (it seemed more of a bargain). Naturally, the minute I got home I realized the difference. The ten foot brand only gave you half the velcro; just the hook side. Sheesh. I was a little put out that I would have to go all the way back.

But I put on my best face and headed back (fortunately Tyler was home, so I was able to go without kids, because you can imagine how thrilled I would be to pack kids back up). Right before I got there, a song came on the radio that I have been listening for (to find out the artist). While waiting for the song to finish, I grabbed my purse and noticed that my wallet was missing. I left it at the store when I came the first time since my hands were full with Daisy. I thought that if I hadn't bought the wrong velcro, I might not have noticed for a very long time and perhaps even forgotten where I had been (this is not unlike me). I was so relieved that I was already at the store. My wallet was behind the counter, I exchanged my velcro, AND I found out the artist that I was wondering about. Here is the song if you are really curious about what strikes my fancy.

So perhaps things can sometimes work out for the best. Providence was smiling on me today.

Are Your Ears Painted On?

I was watching Barbie and the Three Musketeers for the umpteenth time today (thanks Grandma for buying that for the girls) and I was once again amazed at the idea that once people put on a half mask, no one can recognize them. Seriously? And let's be honest, Barbie's mask isn't even a half mask, it is only two loops that surround her eyes. And yet, people are still amazed when she takes it off. Oh, it's you???

Half-masks are just not that mysterious to me. Sure if I didn't know the person, but if I were at all familiar with someone, I don't think I would be fooled. I mean, it's not like a person's voice changes when they put on a mask. Maybe I am better at voice recognition than some. I enjoy trying to guess who the voice-overs are in animated films. But even if you were poor at recognizing voices, there must be other clues. Ladies, if you know your man at all, you should be able to see through his disguise. I mean, come on Buttercup...Wesley was gone for a few years, but could he have changed that much? And what about Zorro and Batman (although Batman's voice does seem to deepen when he puts on his mask so you have to give him props for that)? Anyway, I'm just saying that if Tyler put on a half-mask, he wouldn't be able to pull the wool over my eyes.

MMIX

So I am a crazy woman about traditions (but you knew that). We have a tradition that the FHE before Thanksgiving we make our thankful turkey. The first Thanksgiving that we did this, our turkey looked very lonely, but we laminated him and I knew that eventually he would be joined by others. And now we are on our fourth turkey (I love it!!). We put them up each year and I know that when my kids are grown, they will bring their families back and look at our wall filled with silly turkeys.

Everyone gets a feather (although we added one for the dog because Robyn didn't want a lop-sided turkey). Each year I have the kids help me choose colors for the turkey and the feathers. Robyn helped this year and therefore it was 'her' turkey. You should have seen her face when Tyler decided to write the year in Roman numerals instead of the regular numbers. She about pitched a fit. Finally Tyler showed her how to read the 'secret' writing and now she thinks she has classified information. It should keep her happy for a while.



Yes, I know that this isn't the Monday before Thanksgiving, but Ivory will be out of town next week and I didn't want her to miss it. Hence, the early bird gets the Roman Numerals.

Variety is the Spice of Life

I really think it is good to mix things up a bit; try something new or old (spouses excluded naturally—I like the one I have). I look forward to each month and doing something that goes with the season or holiday. I like digging in my closet and finding old shoes or clothes that I haven't worn in a while. It is great to skim my small collection of movies and see an old favorite that I haven't watched in a while. I love it when a song I haven't heard in forever comes on the radio, bringing back a wave of memories as I sing it at the top of my lungs.

Some things are meant to be daily occurrences (I would never say no to a kiss or hug from any of my family) but many of the things I like are better in small doses; enjoyed at intervals. Tonight we were getting ready to have our Sunday ice cream ritual (yes, I shamelessly bribe my children to keep them reverent in church). Tyler, with some left over soda from his Book-a-Mormon-athon, decided that we should have root beer floats instead. What a genius. It has been a blue moon since I have had a root beer float and it was scrumptious. It is great to fall in love with something all over again (in this case, spouses included). Thanks Tyler.

p.s. Ty, you are enough variety to keep my life spicy for eternity.

Book-Of-Mormon-Athon

I'm posting early on Saturday morning so Maleen doesn't have to. It's actually going to be really fun when she checks her blog in the morning to see how many comments she's received; and then she'll find this post. Ah, I'm so sweet. National Blog Month is taking its toll. I'm led to believe it's difficult to come up with something to blog EVERY day! Well, this is just one of the many services offered by Cazier Man. (That's me—I've taken to calling myself that occasionally as I am, and conceivably will be, the ONLY man in the [Utah] Cazier House.)

Anyhow, Friday night was Book of Mormon Part II. I had this “revelation” that we should do something over the top in our quorum to get the elders to do something more than they're currently doing. It's tough to go wrong with reading more Book of Mormon, so we elected to read it in a couple of all-nighters.

After one all-nighter, it became evident that we'd need three (not two) nights. We also determined that it's a whole lot faster to go with MP3s of the chapters than it is to have someone reading aloud. There are always mistakes in diction, re-reads, mis-prounciations of names, etc. All that just makes it generally much slower. Plus, we also found that Windows Media Player has a neat little feature on it that allows you to modify the speed of playback. You can choose to play things much slower than usual or up to 20 times faster than normal. We've found, through concerted experimentation, that the human mind can only assimilate information at about 1.8 times as fast as normal diction. 1.6 times normal speed offers fairly good comprehension and about 33 pages per hour. These are things I never thought I'd know.

1 And it came to pass that I did make my way to the church in the 18^th hour of the reign of the clock, at about 45 minutes past the hour. And there I did establish the means by which we would read and hear the words of God.

2 And I did prepare every needful thing insomuch that when others came to the place, which was called the church of the Vineyard Second Ward, which was so-called because it was established in the borders of the land called Vineyard, they were ready to hear the word of God.

3 And I did cause the MP3 player to play at 1.6 times the rate of normal speech. Therefore was I immersed in the scriptures, alone, for the space of more than an hour, before Randy Bohn, a steadfast and dedicated man, did show up to read scripture with me.

4 And it came to pass that because of the smallness of our number, we did foresake the Massiman Curry, which we had promised to those who promised they'd show up. Now we know not, but that they have taken up arms against us as the Lamanites of old, because they were not here to read with us.

5 Nevertheless Brother Randy and I did read for the space of an hour, and then others beheld our great enjoyment and spiritual growth and they too did join us in our endeavors, or rather that they did join us in reading about the endeavors of the prophets of old.

6 For behold, Brother Brian Macbean and Brother T.J. Moore did join us as the word had a more powerful effect upon their minds than the sword or any other things which I did use to beat upon them. And thus we did read into the night. And some did stay only for a time, and others did remain all the way through. Nevertheless, the time did pass away as it were unto us like a dream.

7 And blessed be the testimonies of they who did complete the reading for the night, for we did complete the Book of Alma this very night. And we have been enlightened by the words which were spoken by the prophets who have gone before, yea, my sons (of which I have none), I say we were greatly blessed and enlightened by the words of Aaron, Ammon, Captain Moroni, Helaman, Abinadi (for did begin our reading in Mosiah), Teancum, Amulek, and of course, Alma, insomuch that we were carried away even unto boasting in how awesome these prophets are. Yea, and they did not disappoint.

8 Yea, my brethren, who are my brethren in the Lord, let this night be written upon our hearts even as our testimonies are written upon our hearts and have thus brought unto us a fulfillment of our joy.

9 And thus I make an end. Amen.

Ah...Fun

Sometimes it is good to let go and have a little fun. This picture makes me happy.



I took it a week or so ago, but it is weird to me because I think Ivory and Robyn are wearing those exact same clothes today. Déjà fashion.

I Hate it When People Say Catsup

I guess I will do a little Ketchup tonight. When it is my week to do pre-school, I get completely absorbed by lesson plans and preparing, that it pretty much eclipses everything else. Evidence of this was the pile of laundry that greeted me today once pre-school was finished. I am six (6!) loads in and not quite done.

Even better is the fact that I don't teach again until February. We had a good time this week, but there is a reason I didn't major in early childhood education. I feel comfortable around my own kids because I am in charge, I have stewardship, I can give them what-for when they turn a deaf ear to my wisdom and counsel. Not so much with a large group of three-year olds. I sit there and pretend that I am in charge and hope they can't tell I am bluffing. Anyway, burdens of all sorts have been lifted this afternoon, so let's fill you in on some other occurrences.

First, I think Robyn may have an admirer. There's this boy who was always yelling at her when she got off the bus. She would sprint for the door and he would follow a few feet hurling noise after her. I asked her about it a couple times, but she didn't seemed phased in the least. "That's just Diego," she would calmly reply. It seemed it was just some game they played.

Well, I haven't seen him yelling for a while, but I have seen him at my front door the last couple days. He knocks, hands me a stack of cookies and says, "these are for Robyn," and then makes his retreat. Either he has graduated from the 'insult and chase' stage to the 'give gifts' stage of courtship, or Robyn has whipped him into shape and is now extorting payment in return for not harming him. I'm guessing the former simply since she is a cutie, but I wouldn't be surprised if secretly she was the crime boss of the neighborhood.

In other news, Daisy continues to be a hellion. I love her, little duck, but she is chaos on wheels with a bad case of Daylight Saving crankies. She was up before six this morning and refused to take a second nap this afternoon. New tricks she has learned are flushing the toilet (multiple times in a row), and drawing on the walls with whatever writing utensil is most easily accessible. Usually this is pencil since she prefers to suck on the markers rather than draw with them.

She is also quite endearing with her other antics. She now folds arms for prayers and giggles uncontrollably when June plays with her. She opens the box of wipes, pulls one out, then lies down and wipes her tummy (really funny). She plays peek-a-boo, and loves to make people gasp; if she thinks you are shocked by what she is doing, she is bound to keep it up. The other day in the tub, she started splashing and I played along, gasping and wincing every time she splashed. Naturally she splashed all the more, only proceeding in soaking herself thoroughly, but it was worth it to watch.

Going To Bed

Wish I could say that I had time to compose a post today. Nope. See you tomorrow.

p.s. I am thankful for soft chairs and hope.

News Flash

"Apparently teaching pre-school and going to the dentist are too much for one day", responded a local pregnant lady. She plans on falling lifelessly into bed as soon as she brushes and flosses*.

*Flossing guilt is reported to last two to three weeks following a visit to the dentist.

How to Wash Dirty Unders

Rinse them in the tub. Taking them off the child is optional.



Ivory decided to go to bed without a diaper tonight, showing that she is a big girl. I did NOT think this was a good idea but somehow I was overruled. Tyler thinks she needs to realize for herself that she is not quite ready to go the night without a diaper.

However, I am not sure how much of the situation she grasped being awakened from a dead sleep. Tyler put her standing in the tub and told her that she need to take off her underwear. She gave him a confused look, then sat down anyway. I am pretty sure that she had no idea that she was still wearing them, or that I was taking pictures (notice the sleepy yawn).

Poor duck. She is safely tucked back in bed, with a diaper, and I hope Tyler is done with his experiments.

Day of Rest?

When I was young, Sunday was such a long, boring day since my parents wouldn't let us do anything. Now, I long for a Sunday with nothing to do. Somehow that is not our lot. Tyler is gone every Sunday morning with meetings, and I always leave early for church to ready things for nursery (i.e. pack snacks). Having late church doesn't help because we come back, eat dinner, and then the day is closing. Somehow it doesn't feel very restful.

This morning we were up and running before 7 a.m and didn't stop until after dinner at 5 p.m. By then several children were very cranky, and we really just managed tempers until we could throw a couple in bed. Add to that the fact that I don't get to go to normal lessons, and Tyler has Daisy so he spends half of his lessons in the hallway chasing her; and somehow church is not the same experience as when I was younger. I admit that I miss the days where I blithely went to class and came home with nothing to do but take a nap.

Yet, I feel my testimony of attending church has only grown in the last few years. Because I am denied some of the spiritual experiences and discussions, I know how valuable they are. I help every week in the nursery so other parents can go and fill their spiritual cup, and mine is filled through service. I struggle through Sacrament Meeting hushing children, chasing babies, handing out snacks while catching tid-bits of what is said. However, I feel that is the most important place my family could be.

One definition of rest is: "Peace, freedom from trouble, tranquility." I have plenty of peace knowing that I am doing the right thing. Sunday is not always an easy day to get through, but I feel tranquility knowing I am building a foundation for my children and living the principles I believe. In that case, Sunday is certainly a day of rest. . . if not in the most literal sense.

Gardner Village

I try to get to Gardner Village at least once this time of year. I am crazy about their Halloween stuff, but I am lured by their normal selection of odds and ends as well. This year I went purposely looking for a nativity. They have so many to choose from, so I chose mainly based on price (I want to expand my collection, but some are a tad spendy for me at the moment). I apologize that there isn't a picture here but I refuse to get my Christmas stuff out until after Thanksgiving (current purchases included).

We (Tricia and me) browsed other shops and then we ate dinner out there. It was such a fun night and it certainly put me in the holiday spirit. I am getting really excited to start some new traditions this year and bring back some of the old ones. I encourage each of you to try something new this year with your family. After all, when you look back at Christmases gone by, do you remember the gifts you got or the things you did with your family each year?

I'm going on a date in twenty minutes and this has nothing to do with my post.

Today was a glorious day. The weather was amazing. It was so warm and beautiful outside. I noticed this and quickly kicked everyone out of the house including myself. We walked/biked around the neighborhood and ended up over by the church where the girls could play in the plethora of leaves dropped by the enormous tree in front. I wish I had brought my camera. They played, giggled, piled leaves, jumped inside, and had a fantastic time being kids. Daisy even joined in the action and would lie down on the cement as long as a few leaves were scattered on top (she was hilarious).

But that is not what I sat down to write about today. Instead, I thought I might bring up a grievance of mine. I know this doesn't hold with the spirit of Thanksgiving, but let's get real; we all have pet peeves.

I despise white socks.



Not for me. I actually prefer to wear white socks myself (I know...boring). But for the girls, I will never buy them white socks again. Simply because it is so hard to find all the matches. And that is my least favorite part of laundry. There are always socks missing, and then there are the different sizes that have to be matched. Give me a Tinkerbell sock or a nice stripey one that jumps out and says, "Here I AM!! And my match is right over there!!" And even if you can't find the partner sock, at least they stand out in the mass of miss-match socks that we have accumulated over time.



I think for Christmas, I am going to buy a whole bunch of new unique looking socks and then I am going to toss all the old white ones. Or, we could move to Hawaii and wear flip-flops year round. That does seem the best option . I wonder if I can convince Tyler.

Why Not Everything Becomes a Hand-Me-Down

June came home today and told me,

"I don't need these shoes anymore."

No kidding. I think you have gotten all the use you are going to get out of them (and perhaps a bit more).

She will make a good missionary.

---

The following comes from Raging Stallion, who felt it appropriate to add to the post:

As the only missionary in the family I bear a mantle of missionary history. That means that if there is need for a mission story, I'm it. If there's a need for a missionary experience, I'm it. If there's a need for clarification of missionary-related information, I'm it. Thankfully, I am prepared. Among family I am known as Elder Cazier II. Among some Brazilians, I am known as "O Leão de Sião," (The Lion of Zion).

Without getting too much into that (you who know, know I'll go on for hours—), there's a need for missionary-ness here, which I'm all too happy to provide. The astute reader has already noticed the word "missionary" above in reference to shoes. If you went to a walking mission (not these posh bike missions, or *gasp* a car mission), you know what happens to your shoes. For those of you who don't know, here's what they look like. These are my old friends. They have carried me through dust and mud, tears and blood. They've held me together when the path is hard, and tripped me up when my pride was full. These shoes have been with me through thick and thin—robberies and baptisms alike. They are as much a part of my mission as I am. As my soul was worn out in the service, so too were their soles. These were my best companions. My daughters have some pretty well-worn shoes to fill.

And hey, they still fit. :)

Possibly I am Part Reptile

As many of you know, November is national blog month (or something like that), and many people see if they can post every day. I figure I am off to a good start so why not try it?

It is helpful that November is also the month of thanks giving (meaning giving thanks, not the holiday), so I figure I can throw in some small posts related to what I am thankful for.

And today, since I can't seem to get my pictures in working order, you get a thankful post (or something I love).

As the days shorten and the weather gets colder, it seems my body can not find a good temperature. In the morning I am cold (freezing), but we turn the heat on and my bones start to defrost. Then, I start to get a little too warm, so I turn the heater off for the day knowing that the house will warm up on its own anyway. But then I get cold again. I do have some self-control, so I usually leave the heat off and sure enough, by the afternoon, things warm up and suddenly I am sweating. I can't seem to find a happy medium. I'd like to blame the pregnancy, but I seem to recall that this happens every fall.

I guess the answer is layers, but I dislike dressing and undressing all day. Anyway, this is just a really long way to say that I love sunny patches. You know. . . when the curtain is open and a spot of the room is drenched in sunlight. Moxy usually finds the spots before I do (poor dog being from CA, I think she hates Utah weather even more than I do), but I will walk through a ray of sunlight and I will stop and press my body against the sliding glass door, soaking in all the heat I can. It feels luxurious. Or that feeling when you are chilled and you get into the car which has been sitting in the sun for a few hours and the heat just envelopes you. Mmmmmm. Warmth. Good stuff. Thanks sun for shedding a little light and heat.

And Tomorrow. . . World Peace

I found that I can do impossible things. Here is proof:



That there is Daisy in pigtails. Why is this so impossible you might ask? Well, this girl does not do 'stuff' in her hair. She takes off all hats, rips out all clips and bows, and managed to take out at least one pigtail within two minutes of me putting them in. Plus, add the fact that she doesn't really hold still for pictures, and I figure that I accomplished the impossible.

The trick is to distract her right after you put something in her hair in hopes that she will forget it is there—so she doesn't focus all her efforts on taking it out. Too bad she is not easily distracted. The good news is that she is pretty cute with the mullet. . . so far.