Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies

By request, the greatest (and easiest) pumpkin chocolate chips cookies:

1 egg, slightly beaten
2 boxes of spice cake mix
1 large can of pumpkin pie filling (~30 oz)
1 bag of choc chips (~12 oz)
1/2 bag of cinnamon chips (~6 oz)
2 TB flour
1/4 tsp nutmeg

Mix (dough very sticky and soft), drop (keep relatively small), and bake at 375 for 18 minutes. Makes about 4 dozen.

Traveling

One of my very favorite things is traveling. I love to go to new places, particularly to go and actually see places I have studied. I connect with those places like Gettysburg, Boston and Normandy and the history I have studied becomes more alive and rich. I always wonder which buildings or trees were actual witnesses to great historical events and though it sounds silly, I feel like I can connect to those emotions and experiences of individuals who also stood in that same place. I love to go to new places to experience the culture like Italy, England and Costa Rica. I love listening to the languages, trying the food, observing the people and the way they interact and seeing the buildings and personality of the cities and scenery. I watched a movie once where the narrator talked about feeling nostalgia for a people and a place he'd never actually known, but standing in that spot, they were a part of him. And as dramatized as that sounds, I know what he means.

I dream about places I have never been and a relish memories of I've the places I've experienced. I pour of pictures and journals to remember the little details and I study their histories, longing to go back and see it again. As my "been there" places list grows longer, my "hoped for" places does too. :) I create fantasy vacations, researching places I'd want to explore and the things I would want to do. In fact, I've become quite addicted to this little habit. Having the internet on my phone has further enabled me to search, at any random free moment, the possibilities. A particular favorite is to look up cruises (vacationstogo.com--can cruise for cheaper than getting a hotel!). It's not the best way to really experience "true" culture as the ports are tourist spots and an afternoon isn't near enough to see all I would want to see. But it's a fantastic way to relax, be pampered and get just a taste of several places, without much effort (as in, I don't have to arrange travel plans or even move my luggage). The food is always amazing and the experience feels so luxurious. My first cruise was for our honeymoon and was amazing. A short time later, we did a weekend cruise with my whole family to celebrate graduation and not too long ago, did a weekend cruise for a mother-daughter girls trip, taking along my 9 month old Butterfly. All of these were out of California and were spectacular. But very soon, my husband and I will be embarking on a week long Caribbean cruise for a much needed vacation and belated anniversary celebration. I'm so excited I'm practically giddy.

Mountain Goat Baby

Did I mention Ladybug has turned into a mountain goat? She climbs everything in sight with no hesitation. I set her down, turn my back and within fifteen seconds, she will pull out a kitchen chair and suddenly be dancing on top of the table, or worse, the bar. couches, bookshelves, dressers, etc. No where is safe. sigh.

I love my kids. So, so much. But I have to admit that they can make me crazy. I don't say this thinking that these feelings make me a bad mom. I'm pretty sure it just makes me normal. I have been blessed with wonderful kids. They are healthy, happy, beautiful, talented babies. Truly exceptional. And I'm so grateful that I get to be a stay at home mom. But it'd be nice to have more hours in the day to get things done that I need to. Or more time when daddy could be home because that's always so much more fun. Sometimes by the evening, I'm feeling rather burned out which leads to frustration and irritability, followed quickly by guilt for feeling this way. As opposed to morning and post nap snuggles in which I feel refreshed, energetic and ready to play.

Meh. Time to stop whining and go to bed. I wonder if Butterfly will try sneaking in to cuddle tonight...

Lunchtime

Lunch is usually chaos at our house.

Example #1: last week, Butterfly decided to pull the turkey slices out of her sandwich. Long story short, she fashioned them into a bed for her "baby" which looked suspiciously like a grape. She even rocked it, sang to it and kissed it before tucking it into bed, wrapping the turkey blanket over it and tucking in its teddybear (more commonly identified as a goldfish cracker). This was very sweet and cute but I couldn't help wondering what would happen, so I reached over and popped the grape into my mouth. You think she would be upset. She gasped and then with a wickedly evil grin, grabbed more grapes and devoured them with exaggerated chomping noises. little bit scary actually.

Example #2: Ladybug was sitting on grandma's lap today "helping" her eat the pudding. She insisted on holding the spoon and managed to get the first three bites in with admirable success. But then realizing a faster method, shoved her whole hand into the pudding cup and then into her mouth. Pudding goo flew everywhere. Grandma tried to catch it and got a significant amount of goo on her hand. Ladybug lunged right in and began licking grandma's hand. I think this was a fourteen-wipe clean up.

Example #3: I learned early that using a cookie cutter can magically make an ordinary sandwich become magically irresistible to small children. Unless it's shaped like a dinosaur. Then it tromps around the table and growls at the baby.

Example #4: finger painting with yogurt. Also makes for a good facial.

Example #5: my children have unusual taste buds for their age. Butterfly loves steak, all fruit, cucumbers, olives, pancakes, bacon, sour cream, pudding and popsicles. Ladybug loves Cheerios, all fruit (esp. grapes and watermelon), rice, yogurt, chicken nuggets and corn on the cob. They regularly eat Indian food and Mexican food. But under no circumstances will Butterfly eat hotdogs, easy mac, eggs or asparagus. Ladybug will not eat red meat.

Example #6: Butterfly loves the Little Mermaid. Despite having not seen it in a few months, she still insists on using her fork as a "dinglehopper". usually with food on it.

etc, etc, etc...

kisses

We are a very affectionate family, we like to cuddle and give kisses. Our butterfly is an expert at giving kisses now. When she was less than a year old, she made kisses part of her bedtime routine. When I announced it was bedtime, she would go to each person in the room to give them a hug and a kiss (they started out very slobbery, something that fortunately improved over time) before I could take her to her room. The last few months, she has become more interested in movies, being able to sit and watch a whole plot. She is especially in tune with the musical cues, and will identify "scary, oh no, scary" or "bad guy!" or exclaiming "yea!" at climatic hero moments. But the best one is the "aww" at the lovey, kissy moments. We were watching a movie with Grammy and saw the climatic moment kiss moment. She turned to Grammy and cupped both hands onto Grammy's cheeks and solidly planted her lips against Grammy's. But this was no ordinary kiss. She held their faces together, pausing for a moment and then tilting her head the other way, pausing, tilting the opposite way, mimicking a very passionate kiss. Grammy struggled to keep a straight face while I fell off the couch laughing. We've since curbed her attempts at passionate kissing, trying to encourage an appropriate kiss for family only. But especially funny is when she sees me kiss her smokin hot daddy. She will run over to us and push her way in between and claim his kisses for herself. It's hilarious and I will even tease her by kissing her daddy until she maneuvers her way in and insists on the three of us taking turns to kiss.

On the other hand, Ladybug has not been as eager for lip action. She lets us kiss her but typically makes no response other than her shy and endearing smile. Several weeks ago, she began to mimic the kissing sound back, but would only to it occasionally and only for her daddy. She would return a quick kiss and then press her face to his shoulder with that shy smile. Lately she has become better at giving me a kiss but it's still pretty rare. Her kiss is soft and sweet (not near as soggy as baby kisses can be). She prefers a "finger kiss", where we each kiss our finger and then press them to each other, making a "sss" sound. She loves this and rewards me with a huge, happy smile. But just last week, she has also mastered blowing kisses, complete with the kiss sound and the wave of the hand. But the best part is her smile that comes with it. This girl has the most amazing smile, her whole face lights up and her beautiful eyes are stunning. This little girl can make me melt!

Utensils

Ladybug has mastered the art of using utensils. We didn't really try until recently because it was easier, faster and less of a mess to clean up if I just spoon fed her myself but decided it was inevitable as she advances into more solid food. We tried giving her a plate or her own bowl. The current record for how long it remained on her high chair tray is 2 minutes. So instead we have been enjoying our meals by cutting hers into bite sized pieces and putting it directly onto her tray where she can eat it as finger food.

But, we recently unlocked the key for baby to learn how to use a spoon and actually get it into her mouth. Any guesses? Lo and behold, ice cream. Ladybug sat on Grammy's lap and successfully inhaled a dish of ice cream with minimal help and minimal mess. Since then, forks have become fascinating and purposeful. Holding her fork proudly, she uses her free hand to pick up a bite of food, mash it onto the fork, display it with great enthusiasm and more often than not, use her free hand to then pull the food off her fork and put it in her mouth. Well, its progress.

Bytheway, family Halloween party was a blast! Did I mention my kids are adorable?

Music Class

On special days during the week our morning routine is a little more rushed to make sure we are ready in time to go. But I can't actually tell the girls where we are going until just before we leave or they are too excited to actually get anything done. But Butterfly is smart and each morning she asks, "gym music? go to gym music?" which is her way of asking if today is the day to go to either gymnastics or our music class. Well today happens to be music class today. And even better, it was bring your daddy to music class day. :)

The music class they are in is a mixed age group that allows them to learn, explore and experience music through a structured playgroup. This class is a great way for them to socialize with other kids, learn to follow directions from an instructor and is building an excellent musical foundation. Our fabulous teacher (also a musical therapist) leads them through a curriculum of music in which we imitate actions, use our imagination, dance, sing and play with instruments. They get exposed to different tempos (upbeat to lullabies) and experience music in different ways such as seeing rhythm with colored scarves or acting out a bear hunt. My girls LOVE it. In fact, we have a cd of the songs used for each semester that we listen to in the car and as soon as the first song comes on, both girls recognize the opening notes and bounce with excitement. If they are crying, it's a quick and easy way to change the mood.

My girls have long since demonstrated a response to music, bouncing in rhythm at an early age and especially love to play the drums during a rockband family night. In class, Butterfly's favorite part is the guided actions like imitating a spaceship or swaying like trees. I can tell she is progressing musically and I'm so proud of the way she will imitate and demonstrate tonal patterns, an important step to understanding musical intervals. Ladybug likes when I hold her and dance and especially loves when we get to explore with instruments. An observant learner, she loves to watch the other kids and study each item. But usually ends up at her favorite--a drum. Both of my girls LOVE when our teacher plays the guitar (Ladybug will stand at the counter, reaching up for it when its sitting on its stand which is her version of a subtle hint, much like she does for her grandpa when he stops by on an occasional evening). Many of the other kids stay close to their mom, enjoying the class in their small comfort zone. Not my kids. Super friendly and active, they love to take off like crazy people, interacting with others and eager to dance, jump and bounce at full energy. Today was especially fun since it was the first time daddy has been able to come. I think he was especially excited to see how much Ladybug loves it and responds so clearly. We've admired our Butterfly's musical response for a long time now so it's fun to see both of them becoming so excited about and responsive to music. I'm definitely looking forward to seeing that develop over the years and I hope it continues to be an important interest and passion to them.

Blankie

I come from a family of quilters. A long line of ancestors passed it down as tradition and while today it is seen as perhaps a bit old fashioned or too domestic for the average modern woman, it's still a favorite family hobby. Giving someone a quilt is the chance to invest part of yourself in a meaningful gift and the opportunity to share your talent and time, as well as something fluffly and beautiful to keep you warm. My favorite quilt was given to me by my grandmother when I was twelve. It's name is Duckie (in honor of the swans stitched across it, who were called by the wrong name by my dad and brothers in effort to annoy me). Duckie and I have been together so long that she has lost her fluff and the binding is literally wearing through. But still, she's good company for watching a movie or cuddling in the car. My childhood blankie was strawberry shortcake, which I vividly remembering carrying around and cuddling. But sadly, she worn out and eventually disappeared.

As an adult, I still like to quilt and the quilts I have been given mean so much to me. To those who know how important this tradition and hobby is to my family will probably not be surprised to hear we recieved nearly 2 dozen quilts, blankets and afghans for our wedding. I marvel at the time an afghans takes (especially because I have never mastered the art of crochet) and appreciate the giver's thoughtfulness. Especially stunning is the white treco quilt with the temple beautifully stitched into it by my grandmother or the purple quilt with squares of delicate embrodiery that my mother made. Each is beautiful and appreciated as I know the giver intended it to be both practical and a demonstration of love, well wishing and happiness.

But I digress. (as I often do.) Today's post is to tell you about another girl's obsession with blankets. Both of my babies love to be wrapped and cuddled. In the classes we took as we prepared to be parents, and again in the hospital, we were taught about swaddling. Babies have a natural reflex to startle (called a moto relfex), as their muscles are not fully developed. Swaddling, or wrapping a baby tightly, helps surpress that reflex so they can sleep peacefully (it also reminds them of the comforting confinement of the womb). So we became swaddling experts, wrapping them up as soon as they began to drift off and quickly found that they would sleep deeper and longer this way. It also became the perfect trigger for a naptime or bedtime routine. Eventually, they outgrew swaddling and preferred to wiggle or crawl around in their sleep. But, they each still insist on having their favorite blankets at bedtime. Fortunately, we were given many as baby shower gifts. So many in fact that I hesitate to admit a number for fear you would think me ungrateful. My initial reaction was wondering how on earth we would ever need or be able to use so many. But I soon learned better and became even more grateful for them.

Our Butterfly loved to be swaddled and it was cute and fun to cuddle her this way. In fact, friends were amazed at how she could be so fussy and upset until I finally wrapped her tight and she would instantly settled down and almost always, fall asleep. But our Ladybug is truly the baby with the blankie obbsession. As a newborn, we swaddled her to give her that comfort and security. As she got older, she began to play with the blankets more, esecially enjoying feeling the ones with the crocheted edges. This particular type of blanket has become her obvious favorite. She has several of this kind, different patterns and colors. She doesn't mind which one it is, as long as it has the crocheted edging. She insists on having them when she goes to sleep and will not settle for just one. She wants a whole pile in her crib so that she has plenty in which to crawl around and cuddle throughout the night. She wants her blankie in the car, anytime she cries or whenever we cuddle. She carries is throughout the house, dragging it behind her and when she's feeling tired, likes to collapse in a tangled heap upon the floor until I get the hint and take her to bed. But this picture gets even better. When she holds her blanket, she doesn't let it simply hang from her hand but must have it, at all times, pressed against her mouth. She finds a corner of the crocheted edging and with both hands, holds it to her face. It's absolutely adorable. From behind the blanket you can still see her expressive eyes and this endearing habit makes her just that much cuter.

Hot Chocolate Weather

This is quite possibly my favorite time of year. Fall weather means crisp, cool air, and gorgeous hillsides covered in brillant shades of rich reds and oranges. The fall leaves are simply stunning and have always been a favorite sight. But as the weather turns colder, it becomes perfect for sweaters and hot chocolate, which gives way to the magical first snow. The mountains look even more majestic, dusted with perfect white and the air feels clean and fresh. Halloween is approaching, a holiday that was always fun but has become even more so the past few years. My passion for theatre fueled a brief craze of building haunted houses during my college years and coming up with creative, head-turning costumes. But now, haunted houses terrify me and my own costumes are not near as much fun as those of my beautiful children. Planning, designing and hunting for a great idea is such a blast. This year, Butterfly helped input as she went nuts over various costumes we looked at. But alas, all the pieces are coming together and there may even be a family themed costume in the works... :)

And Halloween is just the first of those exciting, fun filled, family oriented holidays in this wonderful season. Next comes Thanksgiving which makes me excited for three main reasons: 1. being with family! 2. the anticipation of leftover turkey sandwiches, and 3. Black Friday. We get to see sibling and cousins that we seldomn see and everyone is happy and excited with children that have grown so much since I last saw them and full of fun and exciting news. Late in the evening, we put all the kids to bed and the "adults" sit around talking, watching movies, playing guitar and sneaking in more pumpkin pie. And the Black Friday choas really can't be paralleled. This is something that my husband introduced me to. We pick up an ad early in the morning and spend time throughout the day pouring over the pages, circling, comparing and dreaming. We make lists and plans, give out assignments and plan strategies. The 4 am crowd is half frozen but friendly and excited. There's something great about being in that group that shares the anticipation and fun with you. I know not everyone shares my Black Friday enthusiam and that's okay. I will clarify that there are certain stores that I do think should be avoided as the pandemonium and ruthless crowds are not worth any potential purchase. And in the past few years, we have found that most of our Black Friday hoped-fors can be found online so the Black Friday savings can now be done from the comfort of my own bed and fuzzy pjs. Plus, I really like sleep. So online is now the preferred method, but searching the ads all day is still half the fun.

And the weeks continue into regular snowfall, beautiful and magical. There are holiday parties and get together with friends and families. We hike into the woods and pick out a perfect free, cutting it down and hauling it home. I finally give up on trying to make the lights look exactly the way I want on the third try and my husband comes to my rescue. He helps me haul my extensive and beautiful Christmas Village out of storage and my girls destroy all the packing materials as I set it up. And one of the best parts--holiday shopping. I love it. I love being out and coming upon a perfect something for a particular person and having the perfect excuse to buy it for them. Or even better, coming up with a fantastic idea and making a gift. I love making treats to take to the neighbors and going to see the lights of Temple Square. I love decorating gingerbread houses with family and building snowmen. I love the music, slow or upbeat, silly or meaningful, fun or spiritual. I love feeling that true meaning of Christmas through service. And I think this year, I am most looking forward to the excitment in my daughters' faces at all the amazing things they are going to discover and experience.

**It's the most wonderful time, of the year!!**

"Coppy Corn"

Better known as "popcorn" but at our house, we love "coppy corn" because it's "so tasty good". (according to the butterfly). It's part of our evening ritual. After dinner, Smokin' Hot Daddy says "well what should we do now?" and Butterfly answers "Coppy Corn!" She runs to the cabinet in which the air popper is kept and he gets down the popcorn bowl. (p.s. this thing is massive.) She drags a kitchen chair over to the counter where he assembled all the necessary supplies. Meanwhile, the ladybug runs around squealing with excitment. But tonight, even she insisted on having her own chair to stand on next to daddy so she could be part of the action. He scoops out the kernels and Butterfly pours them in. Once the popper is started, the girls stand as close as possible shrieking and bouncing with glee. Once the bowl is full, daddy melts the butter and lets Butterfly stir as he pours it in. Then she shakes an enormous amount of salt upon it all and declares it ready. We go downstairs, pick out a movie, and devour the popcorn. (and by "we", what I really mean is daddy, butterfly and ladybug. Ironically, I don't care for it. weird, I know.) The three of them sit piled on each other sharing the popcorn, happily muching and obnoxiously wiggling until all that's left is the un-popped kernels. At that point, I take the bowl away and set it up high, the girls scramble down to play with toys and daddy fights the popcorn coma. I'm pretty sure the three of them could live on popcorn. But that's okay, it means I don't have to share the chocolate. :)

grandpa great

Growing up, I had the best of both worlds when it came to grandparents. I had a grandma and grandpa living just a few miles away, who were classy, gentle, wonderful people. My grandpa told us stories and let the boys "help" in the workshop until his health prohibited it. Grandma picked us up from school and made us treats. She taught me how to make pie crusts and embroider. In all my life, I never saw her wear jeans. Her casual clothes were a pants and matching sweater set, worn with low heeled pumps and pearls. She was refined, genuine, sweet and as classy as a lady could be. We spent hours at their house playing cards, watching the Disney channel and going for walks. We took care of them as their health deteriorated, even getting ready for my first formal dance in grandma's hospital room so she could share the experience of my first date. I miss them.

But I am one of those lucky girls who got to know and grow up with not just one, but two sets of amazing grandparents. Living several hours away were another grandma and grandpa who were so different in many ways. My dad's parents were gentle, classy, quiet people. Full of love and laughter but age and health kept them quiet and close to home. My mom's parents were younger and more adventurous. The raised horses, owned a cabin the mountains and took us four wheeling. Christmas trips to their house meant snow ball fights in their front yard and going "hoodin" (upside down hood of a car tied several feet behind grandpa's truck as we go barreling down a snow covered road). Summer vacations meant trips to the cabin where we explored the mountains on the back of four wheelers, built forts in the forest and crafted useless but cute home decorations. At their house we climbed trees in the name of "helping" to bottle peaches and got to hang out with our cousins and best friends. For Easter we went to the sand dunes and "rolled Easter eggs".

So today's post is dedicated to that grandpa, who I know to be full of life, humor and a bit of stubbornness. He's a tease and a prankster, the kind of guy who turns his hearing aids off to drown out the women chatter as well as a spiritual giant who can explain about "that little feller" to an eight-year-old being baptized (about listening to promptings of the Spirit). He is a man who has lived through several life threatening experiences when science told us he would not.

Years ago, he was in an accident where his truck was totaled, a load of drywall shearing off the cab of his semi and setting the whole thing ablaze. Under the mass, survived my grandpa. He had some amazing experiences (ask someday and I'll tell you, it's one of those stories that a family keeps close to their heart) and eventually made a full recovery despite having his leg replaced with steel rods (I have to tell that part to explain how one of his favorite things to do is to walk through pre-9/11 airport security and innocently letting the alarm go off several times before telling them about his leg). This among other stories tell you that this man is strong with at least as many lives as a cat.

Recently, he had a massive stroke. And this is the part where I don't know what to say...

But despite initial doctor's reports, he is now one month from the stroke and he is a fighter. One doctor said (with all due respect) that if he were to genetically engineer an army, he would want it made from this man's DNA. His health and activity level is amazing for his age. His recovery defies science and while the road ahead will be long and no one knows what to what extent he can recover, grandpa is determined. I saw him two weeks after hospitalization and again this weekend where he has just been moved for rehab therapy. The change is phenomenal and I am so grateful for being there, for getting to hold his hand and see recognition in his eyes. He watched my little girls and studied them, knowing who they were. I talked to him, reminiscing about the cabin and his dogs and his eyes communicated with me. My little butterfly sat on his bed and chattered to him. She insisted on holding his hand, reading to him and hearing him say her name. I could tell it was hard and could see his frustration at his limited abilities. But he tried and I heard just enough to know its what he said.

I love him so, so much.

These are a few of our favorite things...

Butterfly:
1. purses
2. shoes
3. nail polish

Ladybug:
1. dollies
2. puzzles
3. her blankie

Me (besides the butterfly, ladybug and their smokin hot daddy):
1. naptime
2. chocolate
3. cuddling

Road Trip Part 1

Deciding to take advantage of a long weekend, we made plans to take a little trip to visit family. We began our day by renewing the expired registration on my vehicle. We left it at the mechanic for an inspection while we got a donut at a nearby grocery store. During our little shopping trip, the chatty butterfly introduced herself to every single person we saw—the cashiers, the baker, other customers, the custodian, etc. “Hi! What’s your name? I’m Tinkerbell.” No joke either, she introduced herself as Tinkerbell to every person she saw. They of course can’t help but to smile and more often than not, give her candy. Smart kid.

After donuts and finishing registration, we returned home to finish packing. First, the girls sat on my bed and insisted on helping me pack by handing me one item at a time. Then little ladybug decided it would be much more efficient to just get in the suitcase, which she did and smiled with pleasure at her own brilliance, until her sister tried to close and zip up the suitcase. Tears ensued. Finally, they both decided to let me pack and went off in search of their own fuzzy, pink suitcase with wheels that they stuffed with toys (couldn’t forget those).

More packing, a few more errands and finally, we picked up Grammy and we were off! Just us four girls, we would fly down the freeway with the sun shining, the girls sleeping, music playing and would arrive just after dinnertime. It was a great plan, for the first seven minutes and which point, the great and mysterious phenomenon of the freeway struck—traffic. It is truly a wonder I don’t understand. The first 30 miles took us just under and hour and a half (which happened to be as long as the girls’ nap). Then we hit a brief stretch of 65 mph bliss before we again hit the sea of red brake lights.

We were in the far left lane of four lanes and moving the slowest. For some unknown reason, the far right lane was moving the fastest, which is opposite of norm. I can resign myself to traffic during peak time, especially when the right lane is congested with people getting on and off but this really made no sense. And as I usually do in such situations, I became obsessed with studied the cars around me and searching for them as we travel down the road, trying to determine which lane really is the fastest. But inevitably, as soon as you change lanes, it becomes the slowest so generally I prefer to just sit in annoyance at the people who insist on trying to weave, further bogging down traffic. Then I began counting the number of people who are on their cell phones but became so irritated at how frequent that actually was and quit. As if traffic wasn’t enough of a mess, at least a third of the state is torn up with construction at any given time (this might even be law). So we went from four lanes, to three, to two, to three and on. So even if you do finally get in a groove, it gets congested again when we have to do that really scary, awful thing—merging. (*gasp!*) Really people, it’s like a zipper. Take your turn and move on with life. Instead people drive up the side trying to rudely squeeze in at the very last minute or worse, dashing in front of a giant semi assuming that the gap he left was for them, instead of safety reasons.

But finally we are moving and making our way down the road. But by now, the girls are bored. But never fear, we are well stocked with books, toys, snacks and as a last resort, a dvd player. As a kid (begin far-off-reminiscing-voice) we made the eight hour drive to see my grandparents usually three times a year. There was no portable dvd player or built in playstation. We passed the time sleeping, reading, fighting, singing and playing obnoxious games. I’ve actually sang “99 bottles of pop on the wall” all the way through. Twice. The best was playing bingo on the little travel board games with the sliding red doors. So many children today have never played the license plate game (truly a tragedy) and would be shocked if someone hit them over sighting a car. Instead, the dvd player turns on and a couple of movies later, we arrive. It makes the drive easier. And its more entertaining for me as the driver because I like peering into other people’s car to see if I can tell at a quick glance what movie they are watching. (and yes, we finally did give in, we ran out of toys and turned on a movie for the final leg of the drive).

The best part of the drive is the halfway break which for us, if at all possible, needs to be a McDonalds. McDonalds is wonderful for the following reasons:
1. Playplace (burn off some of that energy)
2. Mc Donalds monopoly (and the perpetual “what would you do with a million dollars?”)
3. Miniature ice cream cones (perfect size to count as a dessert without a complete sugar high)
And back into the car we go.

We finally arrive, minutes after everyone has gone to bed and my children pile out of the car and run through the house like crazy people. They giggle, play, give those great big I-missed-you hugs and finally start settling down for bed. A few minutes after midnight, the house is quiet and everyone has finally been put to bed but here’s our little secret. If we are at our own house, my girls are the perfect bedtime babies. But if we are anywhere but home, we simply don’t sleep. They each played quietly in their bed for half an hour before I fell asleep (and I assume they did too). Around 3, the ladybug crawled into my bed. Around 4, the butterfly joined us. Around 7, we gave up and played quietly until they could no longer be contained. By 8, we officially declared it morning and they began again squealing, running around, giggling and playing like the beautiful, happy little monsters they are.

Bathtime!

Bathtime is a wonderful time of day. We generally have a great morning routine. The girls wake up usually within 15 minutes of each other. Whoever is up first gets to come to my bed and snuggle until the other is awake. (Once I declared that my favorite child would be the one who slept the longest at night. My mom didn't think that was fair. But at 6 am, it's true.) Once everyone is awake, we pile into the kitchen for breakfast which is announced with an excessive amount of excitement from me and the chattery butterfly, ("Breakfast time!!" as we race down the hall). We make a huge mess, attempt to clean up and then head for the kids' bathroom for one of our very favorite activities. Today ladybug was so excited she even launched into the still-filling tub with her diaper still on. With both butterfly and ladybug happily splashing among the bubbles, I sit back, pull out my phone and do another required daily task, check facebook. Sad, I know. I'm kind of addicted.

Once that is done, I can play more freely because let's face it, we have some of the coolest bath toys. My favorite are the foam letters that we can stick to the wall and encourage butterfly to identify. Ladybug likes to teethe on them, thus explaining the bite marks. Her favorites are A and L. Sometimes there is a brief tussle over the hair-washing water bucket because we love to dump water on each other, the floor and especially mommy's feet. But they can always be redirected with our fish friends. These little plastic toys don't really do much until I figured out that you can squeeze them, hold them under water to fill them up and voila! we have a makeshift watergun. We also have the "fish parade", the ocean animals that can be linked together until ladybug comes crashing down on them, much to her sister's annoyance. But then, she gets revenge by insisting on "helping" me wash her little sister's hair. My lil ladybug still does not understand why I must do this, despite the amount of mashed up banana and chocolate smeared into her hair. Fortunately, my butterfly actually enjoys having her hair washed and doesn't put up too much of a fight anymore. Her favorite part is tipping her head forward during the rinse so her curls fall forward and the water streams down them, creating a little curtain around her face. It amazes me how long her hair is when the water pulls it straight and how fast it springs back up as the curls dry, appearing to lose at least 4 inches in length.

The ladybug always wears out first, but I can't say I blame her since usually bath lasts over 30 minutes (it's just too much fun!) and I wrap her into her fluffy purple hooded towel that our friend gave us as a baby shower gift. She likes to be wrapped tight and snuggle up against me until I finally deposit her onto the changing table so I can wrap her sister in her matching towel (who then takes off running to play with her "cape" streaming behind her) and rinse the tub. Then we commence the "routine". Each child must be slathered in "lolo" (lotion, love baby Aveeno), baby diapered and both girls dressed, hair done and finally set free to play again. By now, mommy is soaked and exhausted by my girls look so dang cute.

be our guest

(sorry, couldn't miss the chance to be in theme with yesterday's post.)

This weekend, I played hostess to a friend from my childhood. She was in town for another friend's wedding so she spent the weekend at my house. We talked for hours. This is someone that I grew up with, went to preschool with, took tiny tot dance lessons together and were popwarner cheerleaders together. We were in the same ward almost until I moved away for college. And despite attending different high schools and running with different crowds, we share a LOT of growing up experiences and common friends. She was full of "news from home". I haven't lived there in nearly a decade but it was fun to hear updates on so many of the people we grew up with.

So it got me thinking. Facebook has done wonders for society's ability to keep in touch with others, or at least to hear the news about people we accepted as friends because we knew them once upon a time but really haven't even talked to them. However, I do admit to doing a great deal of facebook stalking (as in viewing photos, reading wall posts, etc.) Many friends from my growing up years have stuck close to home, some of them even marrying people we knew but never would have pictured together. Many of them have gone to school, started families, etc. Some of them have really struggled or turned out far differently than I may have hoped or expected.

I had a great childhood. My parents created a welcoming, secure and loving home. So much in fact, that they were notorious among our friends for being the place to go when you needed it and we frequently had long term guests and friends who even today, call them "mom" and "dad". They encouraged us to have friends over and were always the first to volunteer to drive for firesides or stake dances. They were supportive of our activities and hobbies and encouraged us to develop our talents. We lived in a not-such-a-great-area but my parents gave us all the opportunities they possibly could. Hearing about friends who came from all the advantages of life but created very little with it was disappointing. Others, and I'd like to include myself and my siblings in this group, have built our lives to be fulfilling, meaningful and accomplished (regardless of the varying backgrounds we may have come from). Life is always a work in progress but I'm so grateful to have had the amazing experiences that I did as a child and the opportunities I've had that helped me grow.

Beauty and the Beast

For my 11th birthday, my parents took me to my first Broadway show. I wore my fanciest dress, a beautiful black velvet formal with simple lines and classic style. We went out to dinner to Houston's, where I butchered the pronunciation of "fillet mignon" and felt like a princess, dining in luxury with my wonderful parents. Then we crossed the street to the Ahmanson Theatre of Los Angeles, where Beauty and the Beast was on tour. I remembered being in awe of the set pieces and enthralled by the music. It was one of those moments that wraps you up so completely that you forget that a world even exists outside those theatre doors.

From that experience, this show was my favorite Disney movie and Belle, my favorite Disney princess. I loved that she was sweet and yearned for adventure, how she loved to read and sang so beautifully. I wanted to be Belle. Eventually I met my own beast/prince and have danced off into my own happily ever after and had a beautiful little girl.

When my beautiful little girl was six months old, my parents invited me again to a performance of this amazing show. This time it was a high school production, directed by a friend I had gone to college with and who like myself, was now teaching. My husband was working that night and I wasn't comfortable with leaving my little girl with a babysitter yet so I decided to bring her along. I kept her awake through her last nap of the day to ensure she would be exhausted. And just before the show began, I would go through her bedtime routine of putting her in jammies, swaddling her tight and giving her a bottle during which she would drift off to sleep in my arms so I could enjoy the show.

This didn't happen. We found our seats and the lights dimmed. Her eyes were heavy but as soon as that music started, her eyes shot open and she wiggled out of her blankets. She grabbed onto the chair in front of us and with surprising strength, pulled herself to a standing position on my lap. She watched the entire show, bouncing along with the music, squealing in delight when the animated characters came onstage and clapping enthusiastically when everyone else clapped. Her eyes were bright and expressive, clearly loving it and being the perfect audience member. It was amazing.

Unfortunately, being a Disney movie, it was "vaulted" at the time and we couldn't get a copy. Nevertheless, somehow Belle has become her favorite princess. She has a collect of six pairs of dress-up high heels, each with a Disney princess. The gold Belle shoes are her favorite. She talks about Belle, sings to and dances with her Belle doll. We even found Belle pull-ups to help potty train her (Imagine her running down the hall to the bathroom yelling "don't peepee on Belle! don't peepee on Belle!") And all this time, I don't think she has ever seen the movie.

Today is two years from her first theatre experience and our newly released DVD copy finally arrived. I put it in and we settled onto the couch, the show began and she showed her usual minimal interest. Belle appeared on the screen and she perked up. She studied Belle and I whispered, "It's Belle!" She was thrilled. "Belle!" she cried and bounced in excitement. She was enraptured by the music and animation. When Belle appeared in the beautiful gold dress she squealed in delight, bringing her hands to her face, her eyes reflecting that great child joy that I was waiting to see. She jumped up and danced to the music (her awkward ballet of swaying and extending). and then "oh no, my dress!" and she ran to her dress up box, pulling out her favorite dress as well as finding a pair of her high heels. They happened to be snow white. "oh no, need Belle!" she said, digging deeper until she found them. Once appropriately attired, she took her daddy's hands and pulled him to stand, dancing with him and twirling and being so adorably precious. Her little sister caught on and happily stumbled around the room as well.

We watched the whole movie, cheering each time Belle appeared but confused if Gaston or the Beast was the "bad guy". No matter, she loved it. Watching the ending, she was transfixed with dramatic "oh no!"s as Gaston attacked the Beast and a final "oh so beautiful!" as they danced again at the end.

I love this little princess.

Cuddling

My husband's job requires him to travel (not as much as he used to but still on a semi-frequent basis). Traveling on business sounds sophisticated and luxurious, especially when I used to travel with him and play tourist. But now it is less luxurious and more obnoxious. I don't really begrudge the opportunities for work, or the overnight hunting/camping/scouting trips, but I do admit to sleeping with all the lights on in the house and usually watching chick flicks until I fall asleep around 2 am.

But lately, when he travels, I still get a nighttime cuddle buddy. My children have an amazingly easy bedtime routine. We can put them both down to bed in less than ten minutes. However, my little two year old has a sneaky little habit. Somewhere between 1 and 3 am, she likes to quietly sneak out of her bedroom, tip toe up the stairs and patter down the hallway. She stops every few feet to listen and see if she will be caught and sent back to bed or if she can get away with it (we've watched her do this). She finally makes it to the door of our bedroom and peers in. If we are awake, we hide our smiles and sternly take her back to her room. But if we are asleep, she will sneak across to daddy's side of the bed. She whispers (something that I have never been coherent enough to discern) and in our sleep muddled state, we pull her in like a cuddly teddy bear to sleep in between us. She insists on cuddling next to daddy but wants a handful of my hair (her favorite comfort item) as well. When morning comes, we usually remind ourselves that we really ought to not this be a habit and go on to the next night, where we are again too tired to rouse enough to actually take her back to her bedroom.

When daddy travels, I still go through the motions of the bedtime routine and put her to bed in her own room. And then I go to my room, spend the next four hours watching movies and wishing she would come cuddle me. I finally turn off the movie, and am just drifting off to sleep when my sweet little teddy bear climbs in, curls her warm and solid little body against mine, wraps a fistful of my ponytail around her tiny hand and finally, we sleep. :)

It begins...

I think I've been blogging in my head for well over a year now (especially after deciding I was thoroughly addicted to reading my cousin's, I check it every night, that and woot.com). But I never started it because as much as I project myself as a confident person, I'm rather self-conscious about this idea. Blogging is much like a journal, valuable for recording experiences and thoughts but often personal. I also follow my brother and sister (in-law)'s blog. The two are very different. My cousin (I avoid use of names on the internet because I'm kind of paranoid, need time to evaluate the privacy settings) blogs about wonderfully random thoughts and experiences. My sister's is sharing their day-to-day (ish) experiences. Most probably find the latter style more valuable because it allows us to share in the life of someone we don't see very often. But the first delves more into their random thoughts and the messages that they send into the great void of the world. Some may find it silly but I rather like it...

So today begins my blog. (but I can barely keep up with a personal journal so we shall see how we do here.) by the way, does anyone actually read all of the terms and agreements? I get so bored by the third paragraph that my eyes start to cross and I skim to the end, check the little box and instantly can't recall anything of what I just read.

So from now on, I'll "blog" as if I'm already in the middle of long and fascinating account of those random thoughts as well as the daily experiences. As if you already know that I have been blessed with a blissfully happy life. You would know that the man I married is amazing. I love to be his cheerleader and continually awe at how good he is to me and for me. He is brilliant, gorgeous, sweet, thoughtful and a wonderful father. You would also know about my two beautiful daughters, and what a miracle and a gift they are for me. How my two-and-a-half year old is spunky and curious, with endless energy and curls that would make Shirley Temple jealous. She's my beautiful butterfly, fun, happy and social with her boundless energy taking her from place to place. And how my little just-barely-one year old is delicate and gentle, with an impish streak and stubbornness that you would never suspect from such a porcelain doll beauty. She's my little ladybug, sweet and stunning but more content to cuddle and observe, moving more carefully and deliberately than the flitting butterfly but equally precious. I live in a beautiful home (where I still walk down the halls marveling that I really do get to live here), in an incredibly friendly neighborhood, in a breathtakingly beautiful valley (currently surrounded by majestic mountains covered in rich red and orange leaves). I had a short but invaluable career as a high school history teacher, a place where I felt I made a difference and I knew how to make history rich and alive to students. I got to work with teenagers, a generation that I am drawn to because I can feel their energy and eagerness to experience life and test their independence. And you would know that while I loved my teaching experiences, I believe that for me now, motherhood is the hardest and most fulfilling thing that I feel I could be doing with my life.

...My "writer's voice" is showing up. Most of us have one. Where we tend to get philosophical, lofty or dramatic. So here's what I really meant to say: I have a good life.