Bad to the Bone

Still have a massive case of writers block going on.

So instead you are all treated to several short video clips of my girls rocking out alongside our little 'Bad to the Bone' singing stuffed dog. Enjoy.

It's possibly a little too early to tell, but I swear this kid has like ten times the amount of rhythm that I do. (Not that that's saying too much.)

If Annie could keep her little tongue even half way inside her mouth, her dancing might not look quite so spastic. :-) (If the video gets a bit shaky there, about half way through, that's me trying really hard not to laugh as her dance moves become all about the hip thrusting and butt shaking).

I love little backup dancer Ellie rocking out on the bed.

(Oh, today in the car Annie got herself mostly strapped into her carseat. "You're amazing Annie," I said, encouraging such behavior. "Nope," she stated simply, "I'm just cute." I tried to counter that with her being cute and SO much more, but she wouldn't hear of it, "I'm cute Mom. Not amazingly cute or super cute. Just cute." She seems pleased with her assertion, so who am I to argue. By tomorrow she'll be telling us all about her sheer geniusness again, so it's all cyclical.)

In Annie's Words the Third

I am (obviously) at a complete loss of anything to write as of late. So, I quizzed Annie in all things 'Mom' yet again, and have included the transcript here. Enjoy.

How old is your mom?
50.

What is your mom's favorite thing to do?
Clean up with me.

What does your mom do when you're not around?
Like when I'm on a nap? Um, I don't know.

What is your mom really good at?
I can't tell you.

What is your mom not so good at?
You are not very good at vacuuming the ants. That is all you are not good at.

How tall is your mom?
Um, like when she stands up she's like this tall [as she points up above her head].

What does your mom do for her job?
Work on the computer. Email graphics to people.

What is your mom's favorite food?
Tater Tot Casserole

What do you and your mom do together?
Vacuum and clean up.

How are you and your mom the same?
I don't know, we're different. Our hair isn't the same. No, not your hair is not the same. Dora and Boots are the same.

How are you and your mom different?
With our hair blonder for me and yours straighter.

How do you know your mom loves you?
Because I have blonde hair and you have straight.
And because she gives me kisses.

What can you tell me about your Daddy?
Because he works at REALLY hard. Really, really hard.

What do you and Daddy like to do together?
Go to Arctic Circle and I don't know. And eat ice cream cones! Not anything else, just all that.

What is Ellie like?
She likes to play with me in my room. Because now it is all princess-y and we like it all princess-y. She is crawling. She is silly.

What is something mom always says to you?
Like, um, if I hit Ellie? I don't know. Then I have to go to time out. When I hit little sister, you are sad about my hitting little sister.

What makes mom happy?
When you clean up and vacuum. If I don't hit Ellie!

What makes mom sad?
If I do hit Ellie.

What does your mom do to make you laugh?
When you play with toys with me, that makes me laugh.

What was your mom like as a child?
You were three. Wait, why were you three? Why would you do that? You put all your little babies in our little brown baby house. And I used to say, "Mommy, that's enough babies in there!" Mom liked to feed her baby dolls.

What makes you proud of your mom?
If you play with me, then I is proud.

If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Cinderella. Because you are a pretty princess.


Then just a few things about Annie in her own words:
1. What is your favorite animal?: "A tiger, oh I mean not a tiger. A lion."
2. What is your favorite color?: "Blue" (Really!? Not pink? That is surprising.)
3. What is your favorite number?: "Four. Because."
4. What is your favorite song?: "Twinkle Twinkle"
5. What is your favorite movie?: "Dora and Princesses."
6. What is your favorite shirt?: "Princess one."
7. What is your favorite treat?: "I think it's candy bar."
8. Which is your favorite?: Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, or Snack?: "SNACK!" (No surprise here . . . sometimes she'll cry and throw a tantrum about not wanting lunch and just wanting a snack. So we'll have brocolli and spaghetti for a 'snack'.)
9. What is your favorite snack?: "Fruit snacks!"
9. Why? "Because." 9b. Why because? "I like my favorite animal at the zoo." Um, OK.
10. What country do we live in? "Utah."


Oh, and Ellie shocked me today when she suddenly crawled 2/3rds of the way up our slide by herself (then slid back down on her belly, laughing the whole way). I had not idea she could do that. One more thing for me to keep an eye out for now.

Annie and Ellie have been adorable affectionate towards each other all weekend. Holding and hugging, rolling around together, giggling the entire time. Which is unbelievably heartwarmingly adorable and sweet. And it's been nice to watch, since otherwise they've both been complete stinkers towards every other person on the planet who is not their sister. It's nice that they're being kind to at least one person.

Strawberries Hate the Snow

The other day Ellie and I were snacking on some edamame. Annie is less interested in them, so she's simultaneously eating sugar snap peas. She asks me, "Why do those have a weird name?"
"Edamame?" I asked, "Well, they're from another country, far, far away, so they just have a different sounding name."
"Why are they from far, far away?"
"Well, not all foods grow in all places, so a lot of our different foods come from different places?"
"Why?" (I'm hearing that one word question so many times a day that it leaves me both amazed by her inquisitiveness, and ready to pull out my own hair in frustration.)
"Well, different places have different weather. Some places are hotter, and some are colder, so different foods grow better in some places than in others."
"Why does some stuff grow better in some places?"
"Well, for instance, California is warmer than Utah a lot of the time, and doesn't have a lot of snow like we do in the winter, so oranges grow better in California than in Utah."
Long pause, taking this all in, then excitedly, "Mom! Our strawberries need to move to California! I don't want them to get cold in the snow here!"
She has talked nonstop, ever since, about fruits and veggies being happier in California where there is no snow. I promised her our strawberries will be protected, hiding under the dirt when it snows, then when it gets warm enough they'll come back out and be fine. She seems skeptical.

Unrelated, I'm constantly marveling at how much more adventurous Ellie is than Annie was at this age. Lately Ellie's favorite new thing is to climb onto Annie's bed, then off. Then on, then off. Then on, then off. Repeat ad nauseum. It made me laugh though when, one time, she scooted herself to the very edge of the bed, looked at me and smiled, then arms spread wide open, she just threw herself off the bed, belly flopping onto the pillows I'd left on the edge of the bed ever since she's taken up this strange new bed climbing hobby. Then she just laughed and laughed. Later, Greg took the girls to the park while I laid home and whined about my hideously disfigured thumb (more on that in a second). Ellie wants to be just like the big kids. She was trying to climb up the slide by herself, wanted to climb up all the ladders/steps by herself, and if there was the tiniest bit of pause between activities, she'd freak and point emphatically at the slide she wanted to ride on next and angrily chew out Greg for not being on task.

I'm surprised I was able to type out the above stories, as I currently feel like I can think of little else then my poor charred thumb. It had a run-in with a 450 degree flat iron today, and I doubt it will ever be the same again. I have been shocked by the amount of pain, and the length of time said pain has lasted (I think I burned myself about 6 hours ago, and if I even think about removing the ice filled washcloth, it starts to throb and I get whiny (er)). I made the mistake of looking for, then following, advice I found on the internet. See, I've been reading a lot of 'dummies guide to doing little girl's hair' blogs (recently I admitted I'm seriously inept at this particular motherly skill.) Well, again and again I've seen it suggested that rather than old school curling irons, flat irons are all the rage for curling hair. With Annie this obviously isn't an issue, but I tried to do my hair curly today, and the front sections just looked ugly and stringy, and I was like, "Hey genius! I could try using a flat iron to add some curl around my face! Then I don't even have to fish around under the sink trying to locate an actual curling iron." Yeah, not so much. First of all, I suck at all things 'hair' anyway, so to try a 'new' method of curling when I have actually mastered the curling iron, was kinda dumb. Second, it's hard to use! It may be easier on someone else's hair, but on my own, I couldn't keep my hair in it, and there was nothing to 'hold onto', like the curling iron's handle.
You have to apparently be smarter than the flat iron.
'Cause if you're not, and you try to keep your hair in it's grip by adding pressure by griping it in place with your fingers, you may just accidently stick your entire thumb against the side of the ridiculously hot flat iron plates and be scarred for life. Or maybe that's just me.
I'm off to go get new ice. The searing flesh of mine is just melting right through the stuff.

Red & Blue & Feminism Too!

I've mentioned my little brother's evil attempts to sway my toddler towards rooting for BYU. (It's a wonder we even let him hang out near her; bad influence and all). Tonight, on our way home from the Oquirrh Mountain Temple Tour, he was in full swing, informing Annie that Aurora goes to BYU, while Malificent goes to Utah. I countered with Belle going to Utah and Gaston going to BYU. Cody shot back with Scar being a Ute, and Simba and Moufasa being BYU students. And then he told her Ariel is the President of BYU. Dirty pool Cody.

Talina and David got into the conversation (on the side of evil, in league with Cody) on the way home from dinner. "Cinderella goes to BYU," Annie was informed by her Aunt.

"Nope," said Annie firmly, "Cinderella has to stay home and clean the house."

Talina is now debating whether any future daughters of her own are allowed to ever watch Disney movies.

The family evening began innocently enough, before all of these school politics and feminism issues raised by Disney heroines. Most of my family headed out together to go through the new Oquirrh Mountain Temple. This is our second temple tour as a family. I still don't know what Annie loves the most; the gorgeous chandeliers and muraled walls, or the cookies and mini water bottles at the end. Ellie was even more adorable and interactive this tour than our last. She was waving (to everyone) and giggling (endlessly) and enthusiastically (i.e. loudly) pointing out things that caught her eye (including, but not limited to, light fixtures, paintings, drinking fountains, wheelchairs, door knobs, flower arrangements, and any and all little old ladies pointing in the direction we should head). She charmed the pants off just about everyone we came into contact with (not literally . . . how awkward would that be.) She was nearly a perfect angel the entire time, until we reached the end and we learned we apparently cannot shovel cookies or dump water into the kid's mouth quickly enough to avoid screaming and wailing. So, we left the reception area quickly (Uncle Cody quite disappointed that he didn't have the time to hustle more than four cookies from various hostess ladies), and headed to Chick Fil A, which was a bit more condusive to the mood my children were in after doing such a good job of keeping relatively quiet and immobile for an hour. Ellie, for the first time (I should label this post 'Milestones') could not be bothered to eat because she was having far too much fun in the play area. I mean, sure, I've fought with Annie to get her to eat and not just climb playground equipment the entire time, but this was definitely the first time Ellie was only interested in playing and not food. She had her Dad and various Uncle's taking turns climbing her tiny self up and down the 'steps', so she could squeal and wave enthusiastically at her grandparents sitting down below, outside the play area. I wish I'd had a camera when she mashed her entire face up against the glass, so as to more fully entertain her legions of fans watching on. This kid is a ham. And it cracks me up.

(These are some pictures from before we left to go to the Temple. Annie couldn't be bothered to pose (despite looking freakishly adorable in this dress), so it's just Greg and Ellie and I. I could've kicked myself for forgetting my camera for the actual outing. This is the second temple tour we've gone on where we haven't gotten any pictures of the family on the temple grounds. Oh well. It is awfully close, I guess we could do it some other time.)

Oh, and shockingly, Annie is asleep. She didn't cry. And it took her approximately 3 minutes to fall asleep; five tops. She happily got dressed, brushed her teeth, said prayers, and told us she'd get a sticker in the morning, and went to sleep. I'm still kind of in shock. I'm thinking of sending my genius pediatrician a bouquet of flowers or something (while simultaneously kicking myself for not trying out the suggestion earlier). Sleeping, not screaming. This is AWESOME. What a peaceful way to end the day!

Now I gotta go, 'cause I'm busy googling Michael Jackson's death. How freakin' weird was that?!

Airing Dirty Laundry

So, I have a confession.

This morning I started the same batch of wash for the third time.

It's not that my beloved LG washer isn't getting them clean, it's just that by the time I've actually remembered that I have wet clothes in there, our 75 degree house has the laundry smelling a little too mildew-y for my taste. So, I run them on another 'quick' cycle. Rinse and repeat.
This time I set an alarm on my phone, so I wouldn't forget to actually change them in a timely fashion (i.e. non-fungus-growing-amount-of-time fashion.)

I'm proudly announcing that the thrice-washed laundry is now being tossed to and fro in our dryer. About time.

Annie, 'helping me' get the laundry done, commented upon the clothes go for a spin in the dryer, "Hey Mom, do you think the clothes are having fun in the dryer?"
"Oh yeah, sure, I think so," I responded.
"Not me. I think they're in there going, 'Ah! Get us out of here!'"
On second thought, it does look a little dizzying in there.

Stickerless, Yet Again

So, we attempted bedtime for a second night with our less than handy dandy sticker chart. Which is still hanging there all barren and unused (actually, I believe it is now laying on the hall floor in a rumpled pile, after Annie angrily threw it out of her room). This time we didn't even make it to step three, interrupted by a full scale meltdown during teeth brushing. (Greg and I were the evil-hold-her-down-and-make-her-finish-brushing parents tonight . . . my natural instinct would just to send her to bed immediately once the monumental tantrum begins, but unfortunately, the asthma medicine runs a risk of causing thrush if she doesn't rinse and brush well after each use.) The freak out was loud, intense and so long that we didn't even attempt the 'read two books' or 'evening prayers' portion of the affair. She ended up screaming, nonstop, for about 45 minutes (waking Ellie a few times throughout) and then finally crashing on her floor.

We seem to be regressing. Last night we at least made it to the actual "sleeping" step of the chart before it all hopelessly derailed. (Oh, and I tried to get her to take a nap today. Her response. She peed her pants, then happily skipped out of her room, holding the wet shorts, practically singing out, "Oh, look Mom! We have to wash things and clean up!" I tried to get her to go to sleep after all of the cleanup had commenced, but it was a lost cause at this point, and Greg was on his way home from work, and it was just too late to make it worth it.) Have I mentioned my child hates to sleep. 'Cause she does. And I don't know what to do about it.

Unrelated (and the kind of stories I remind myself of to return my blood pressure to normal after the bedtime escapades of most nights), Annie and Ellie were playing in Annie's room, up to her bed. (Greg and I were passed out in the hallway due to parental exhaustion.) We hear Annie tell Ellie, "OK Ellie, I'm going to teach you how to pray! OK, 'Dear Heavenly Father . . .' No, Ellie, you need to fold your arms, like this. 'Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this day . . .' You watching Ellie? You fold your arms. 'Heavenly Father, thank you for Ellie . . . ' Ellie. Ellie, I'm trying to teach you." Annie was getting distracted as quickly as Ellie was though, so they never made it much further. Greg and I were both just 'shushing' each others giggles out in the hall so we could try and catch all that she was saying without having to actually intrusively move in closer.

Why it's Great to Have 17-Year Old Uncle

Uncle Cody proudly brought over the birthday present he'd "bought all by myself" for the girls the other day. And then, even though it was only like 70 degrees Monday morning, Cody showed up bright and early and blew it up and turned on the water. There are few things Cody finds more fun than playing in the water (and sand) outside during the summer. Good news for him is he now has two willing playmates when the rest of his friends won't admit to wanting to engage in such 'childish' antics anymore. Ever since Annie was a year old, Cody would come over to our house on summer mornings and ask if "Annie can come play with me out in the sandbox/sprinklers/kiddie pool?"
This morning Annie and Cody splashed and frolicked until they were both too cold to play anymore. What really surprised me was how much Ellie was loving it too! (We added some warm water to the standing water of the 'sprinkler play mat' and had turned off the cold water for Ellie's introduction to the fun.) Annie dived right in, having the time of her life. In a lot of ways, Ellie is more adventurous than Annie was at this age. She's much more likely to crawl into and onto weird places, splash water onto her own face and slide down the slide again and again, all be herself. Annie had a cautious streak a mile wide at this point, but at this point has grown out of most of it.


After changing into warm, dry clothes, Annie and Ellie participated in what is probably their favorite sisterly activity. Annie races around the room on her tricycle, while Ellie books it after her in a near sprint, hanging on for dear life. They both laugh uproariously the whole time. I just liked this picture though, 'cause all the sudden Annie decided she needed an umbrella. After this, she sat cross-legged on the seat holding the umbrella and had Ellie push her across the room.
One of Ellie's new favorite toys is her sister's laptop. She sits up to it and frantically pounds away at the keyboard. Annie told me today, "She thinks she's emailing something." This picture is also showing off her new 'standing' skills. Actually, standing is not new. She's done that for awhile, and can stand (and squat, how do they do that?!) for minutes at a time now. But she's finally learned she can get into a standing position without pulling up onto anything. In fact, her favorite way to stand is to drag some over-sized, cumbersome toy up with her.
I love these last two pictures, 'cause they're just so perfectly Ellie . . . "Oh, I wish I was with my big sister outside . . . I love my big sister . . . My big sister is so cool . . . I want to be where she is and I want to be just like her . . . If only I was big . . . "

This is a quick video of Ellie 'typing' on the computer. She only 'types' for a few seconds here, and not quite with the gusto she usually does, but it's the only video of the toy in action. When she's in the car with the laptop in her lap, she will tap as quickly as possible for minutes at a time. I just hear this "clickclickclickclickclickclickclick" the entire way to the grocery store sometimes.

This is a grumpy Ellie, showing off her 'lifting big objects while standing myself up' skills.

Sleeping Annie

"So, Hilary," you ask, "How did the first night using the new bedtime sticker chart go?"

Well, thanks for asking!

Annie enthusiastically used the potty, changed into pajamas. Happily cooperated while taking her asthma medicine and brushing her teeth. Cheerfully picked out books and said prayer. Then we got to that 6th step on the chart. The whole sleeping in bed thing. Then she lost it. Screaming, crying, wailing, sobbing, distraught and upset. She hated her room. She doesn't like her bed. She was, at different points, scared, thirsty, cold, wanted a banana, missed her Mommy and didn't want to sleep. She'd occasionally leave her room, wandering into find us. I'd wordlessly escort her back to bed, lay her down and leave again. More screaming. I finally went downstairs to do dishes. When I wandered back upstairs, mildly unnerved by the silence, this is what I found, right outside my bedroom door and at the top of the stairs:


Yeah, that worked great. Guess we'll try the chart again tomorrow, 'cause I'm thinking screaming for an hour means she didn't qualify for a sticker.



Besides her terrible sleeping habits and bedtime tantrums more befitting a one year old, my little girl is growing up way quicker than I'm totally 100% comfortable with. Her Aunt Lacy took her out today to go shopping for a late birthday present. (They found one pair of shoes that Lacy showed Annie and said, "Hey, look, these are cute, right?" To which Annie responded, "Yeah, they're kinda cute. But mostly ugly." Lacy text messaged me that Annie isn't the easy person to shop with.) Anyway, Annie found the present of her dreams (that she'd never considered until while in the actual store, of course) and came home the proud owner of a Disney Princess Nail Polish and Lip Gloss set. She then spent chunks of the evening painting her toe nails. When Greg tried to help, he offered, "Sometimes, it's easier for someone else to do it." I added, "Yeah Annie, a lot of times Mommy will have Dad paint her toenails for her." Annie responded, "Yeah, well, a lot of times Annie will do it herself." At least we were able to enforce a strict "only on a paper towel in the kitchen" rule that she found fair enough.

Bedtime Routine and Bribery

So, Annie is so hard to get down to bed. We have a routine, like all the experts recommend. She just screams through most of it. Or, if we make it through without crying, she'll scream and scream as soon as we leave her room. Then Ellie wakes up. And screams. Then my blood pressure shoots up.

Our pediatrician recommended a bedtime chart with stickers or something, working towards some form of reward. Every night that she makes it through all the steps, with minimal freaking out, she'll get a sticker. So, we'll see how this goes:


Any suggestions on 'rewards' for after she gets her 5 stickers?

Some ideas I have:
• Going to the library to pick out a new movie
• Going to the park of her choice
• Letting her pick an activity for an entire Ellie nap, with no housework on my part

The Men I Admire the Most

It's Father's Day today . . . and I ended up so sick I barely moved until after 11AM. So, no breakfast in bed for Greg. Sorry, hon. Instead, he did what he always does, and jumped in and took care of whatever needed to be taken care of . . . he got diaper changes done, breakfasts made, kids fed, and Annie and him off to Church in time. He is such a hands on father, with nothing he views as 'not his job'. He loves spending time with his girls, and they (Ellie especially right now) are just his biggest fans. Ellie hears his voice, and her head shoots up, and she takes off in a full 'sprint' of a crawl towards his voice . . . by the time she actually sees him she's squealing with delight, all the while yelling, "Da Da Da Da Da Da Da!!" Annie giggles and kinda jumps up and down soon as she hears the garage door open at the end of a workday. Unfortunately for poor Greg, he never really sees this, and by the time he makes it all the way inside, she acts much more nonchalant about his arrival most days. I may just get video of this one of these days, so he can see her sheer joy at his homecoming, before she recovers he cool as he walks in the actual door.
I'm grateful for the kind of Dad Greg is, and it makes me undescribably happy that my girls are so lucky to be raised by the kind of man he is . . . their lives/self esteems/educations/everything will be better because of the man they are so blessed with as a father.






And to my own Dad:

I could not have asked for a better father. I am who I am because of who you are. (Take that how you will). My sisters and I are better people, better women and stronger and more capable because we had a father who had the utmost faith in us. We all very much believed we were able to accomplish anything in this world. We knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we could do anything a man could do, "except be a Dad," of course. I've said it before, but I think at one point or another, every single one of us was making plans for our tenure in the White House one day.

You may one day have to answer for unleashing on the world the egos and personalities you did, but we think we're great. :-) And that's pretty much your fault.

Thank you for teaching me how to play. Generations of time will be blessed by the "Tickle Monster" game because of you. Being raised the way I was, where our family played together, is what makes us so close now. Sure, I couldn't stand my siblings occasionally during my angsty childhood, and I didn't want to be anywhere near them at times . . . but because of our family's ability to play and have fun together, there is no other group of people I enjoy spending my time with more now that I'm grown up.
Thank you for teaching me the importance of travel. I will always set aside a little money each month towards vacations, because of what they mean to me. My kids will see more and experience more because the ability to do that was always seen as an amazing opportunity in my own family.
Thank you for teaching me to work.
Thank you for telling me that my siblings were my most important friends I would ever have. I didn't always believe you, but like so many other things where I thought you were full of it, you turned out to be right.
Thank you for teaching me that family always came first. There was never a single time in my life that I didn't know that your family was always your number one priority. That means a lot to a kid.
Thank you for always making learning fun. I love that I married a man who will (over)explain everything to my children about the world around them, because it was one of the things I loved most about my own father.
Thank you for teaching me how important learning was, and how it should be a part of your every day life. You will always be my first choice for any kind of 'lifeline' type of help on any game show.
Thank you for raising me to fear the next 'natural consequence'. I know my husband, and my brother in law, are actively taking notes about all the 'hilarious' punishments they've heard stories about, just waiting to use them themselves one day. I think they're both giddily looking forward to the first day their children don't put away their laundry, so they get to go put it out on the front lawn just before the school bus arrives. Or to dump the garbage pail out onto their beds because they didn't take out the trash, even after being asked for the third time by their mothers. The little lessons you taught us have stuck with us. I know I'm looking forward to 'helping my kids clean their rooms' one day. Just like my Dad did it. :-)

Thank you for how you and Mom raised me. The upbringing I had will be a huge blessing to my own children, as I try to become the parent you were. (You know, when I take the best parts of your parenting strategies and discard the crappy ones . . . you're the one who taught me that. Take what works best for you, get rid of the rest.)

You raised me to believe that each generation had a duty to the next. That if each generation would work to improve upon their own lives for the sake of their children, and make sure their children are even better people then they were themselves, that the world would be an ever improving, more wonderful place.

I'm working on it. I promise to do my best.

Thank you for being the Dad you were. My life has been infinitely blessed because of you.



And to my father in law, K.C:

Thank you again for raising the son you did. My life is beyond what I ever could have hoped for, and that is entirely because of the man your son became. So thank you. For the bottom of my heart.
And for my girls, who are so lucky to have grandparents who love them and will always be there to be a part of their lives. They will be shaped by a grandfather who loves them and takes the time to play with them and be there for them, and for that, I am so appreciative.

Happy Fathers Day!

Thank you for being the men and fathers that you are. I am blessed because of all of you. And I can't imagine two luckier little girls than Annie and Ellie, to have such great examples of good men around them. Fathers, grandfathers and husbands who will show, by example, my daughters what they should expect in the men they come into contact with.

Love you all!

Hairy Confession

OK, I'm admittedly not very good with hair. I was like 21 before I ever even really learned how to do my own very well. So, to be responsible for the hair of a three year old, kinda stresses me out . . . I was secretly grateful she had no real hair to speak of (or style) until she was nearly two years old. And it's only been the last couple months where it absolutely has to be pulled back. But, I suck at it. My ponytails are bumpy and uneven. I have no ability to part hair. I can't french braid to save my life . . . I can barely do a regular braid. The mere thought of the fancy crown braids and other styles my Mother consistently styled my sisters' hair in kinda gives me a mini-panic attack. I think there's a reason my children are nearly bald 'til they're two. I could never do all the cute little piggy tails and all that on the head of a squirmy one year old. I can barely pull it off on a three year old who's been bribed with gummy bears to sit still.

So, the point of my hair confession?

This morning I was trying to pull Annie's hair back into a ponytail, and it wasn't working very well. I asked her to please hold still, as I was having a hard time getting her hair to go smooth. "Why are you having a hard time Mom?" she asked,
"Well," I responded, "You're squirming. And I didn't ever have to do a little girl's hair until I had you . . . and even then you didn't have much hair to do until after you were two. I'm still learning."

"Hmmm," she says, thinking for a second. "Two? Well, I'm three now. So then, um, why are you still having problems now?"
'Cause I'm a slow learner, kid. Whenever you're ready, you can totally take over this particular chore yourself.

What Idiot Keeps Makeup Where a 3 Year Old Can Get To It (Repeatedly)?

Annie has a history of sneaking into my makeup and applying it all willy nilly.
So it shouldn't be a great shock that while I wasn't paying too much attention, she went in and got out some great looking red lipstick. (Especially considering that I haven't moved it since the last time she snuck into it, or done anything to prevent access to said makeup . . . I guess I was just hoping since it hadn't been a problem in a few weeks, it wouldn't be again. But then again, if I did do something constructive, like put my makeup up and away, I'd miss these great photo ops . . . )

At least her application techniques have improved remarkably.
And I love how this picture makes her bedhead look more pageant-hair than messy!

I took the girls to Wheeler Farm this morning. It was, unfortunately, a bit of a let down. Both girls were less than enthused. Ellie's coming down with something, I think, and Annie was just being bored/disinterested/lazy . . . I pushed her in the stroller from one animal pen to the next (sometimes less than 30 feet) because she was so whiny about having to walk. I guess they both just seemed tired and a little out of it, so we only ended up staying for about an hour. We didn't see too much, as most of the animals were hiding from the 11AM sun in their little houses. But we did get to see a baby cow, which drew Annie to actually leave the stroller and even enthusiastically take her little sister down to the fence to get a closer look . . . I love how Ellie's posture here just screams 'little old man'.
One of the few times Annie would get out of the stroller (to go up into the 'clubhouse'), Ellie happily pushed the empty stroller around by herself. It was the most enthused I saw her the whole outing. I was impressed we'd gotten her shoes to stay on (as shoe's are a must at such a place where you're walking through mostly mud mixed with animal feces). Ellie rarely wears shoes. It's not that I don't try (although, I've started to give up), but her tiny little size two shoes just fall right off unless she's actually standing in them, and the size ones are finally too small. She kicks off shoes, or sits down and pulls them off, at the first opportunity, and I'm constantly worried about one being left somewhere. So, I tend to bring shoes in my purse or diaper bag, and only put them on when she's going to be walking on dirty, hot or rocky terrain.
I love seeing her in size in comparison to the stroller here . . . man, that kid's a shrimp! :-)
I actually got a dozen pictures or so of happy Ellie pushing the stroller around proudly . . . but even then, if she wasn't outright laughing, her poor, pathetic 'sick' face came back . . . and those are definitely the eyes of a kid coming down with a cold.
Here's Annie at our picnic lunch in one of her pairs of sunglasses. These ones crack me up . . . she kinda looks like a bug-eyed-alien.
This last picture is of my little girl just crossing one of the little bridges. Looking at this it struck me, "When did my baby leave toddlerhood and become a kid!?" Scary.

Liz -- The Trailblazer (and Birthday Girl!)

I've mentioned before that I won the marriage lottery. Well, not only did I marry my perfect partner, but I married into a wonderful family who has been supportive and loving since day one.
It's a weird experience 'becoming' part of a family. I had it easy though. Greg's family was accepting, excited (I think) and wonderful about me suddenly being a daughter and sister. I feel it was made especially easy, because Liz came first. Liz and Greg's brother Chris, were married almost two years before Greg and I. Liz is so loved by, and so natural and comfortable in, this family, that you would never be able to guess that she hadn't spent her whole life with them. It meant the world to me, to watch Liz interact with my new family, and seem so at ease. It made me confident that this new family of mine would be just as much my family as the one I was born into.
There were times, early on, during dinners where people were laughing and talking and telling stories, and all I could think of is, "I have NO idea who they are talking about or what they are talking about." And, I have to admit, I felt like a bit of an outsider. I remember telling Greg once, "I'm excited for when Andrea gets married, so I won't be the 'newbie' anymore. I'll actually know more than someone else!"
But Liz was always there for me . . . I could ask her later, or email her about it, and just be like, "OK, what's up with that story?!" or "Who were they talking about?!" Sure, I could've asked Greg, but have you ever tried to get background information a guy. It's like when your husband finds out about friend's new baby before you do. "Oh, that's great! How'd delivery go?" "I don't know." "But, Mom and baby are OK?" "I don't know, probably." "Well, was it a boy or a girl?" "I don't remember." "How big?" "I don't know." "Are they home from the hospital?" "Ummmm . . . ?" So on, and so forth. And for a girl like me, who grew up in a family of sisters, it was wonderful to have Liz, and Greg's sister Andrea, who knew 'girl' information, and could fill in the vast amounts of missing information one encounters when they enter a new family with nothing but a husband to guide them. (I can't imagine how lost I would've been if Greg hadn't had at least one little sister and one married brother to bring another girl into the family. Growing up in my family, I'm not that used to all that testerone and less-than-delving conversation.)
Liz and I could also figure things out together. Put together whatever little information we could get from our husbands, and be able to collaborate and be like, "OH! That's what they were referring to!" or "Oh, THAT relative! I get who we're talking about now." And I swear she did a better job than Greg in letting me know who everyone was at family parties. Greg was more like, "Oh, they have TWO kids? Huh, I didn't know that." Liz knew actual names, and approximate birthdates! (Trust me, Greg knows a lot more about the going ons of his extended family now that I'm in the picture than he ever did before I was around.) Liz was just as adored, and a part of, Greg's extended family as she was his immediate. She was my guide a lot of the time. She taught me how to be a part of the family. To just go with it. Get into it. Go ahead and don't bite your tongue when you have the perfect comeback. They'll respect you more. :-)
I think one thing that has meant the most to me though, has been the opportunity to share pregnancies and new motherhood with Liz. Liz and I are both oldest children (another thing that bonds us), and none of our other siblings were married for awhile after us. I always pictured my kids having lots of cousins, but as it turns out, there won't be many their ages. But, Chris and Liz have two little boys, born the same years as our two girls. (Sure, they dragged them off to Indiana so Chris could a world class education and provide well for his family and all that, but my girls love their cousins, love to watch videos and look at pictures. Annie often tells me her imaginary friends have gone to Notre Dame for a visit. She even told me once that Doh doo was from Indiana!) But, when Liz and I were pregnant with our first children (and before that, getting ready to get pregnant) we would email back and forth, almost every single day, about the whole experience. Just everything we were going through, thinking, dreading, anticipating. And we were doing it together. And I can't imagine this journey into motherhood without Liz. Since none of my own sisters have had children, it has been an incredible blessing to have Liz to go through it with. Not everyone understands what it's like to be living life with a baby and a two year old, and yet here I have Liz, who is doing it too. I have her to assure me I'm not as crazy as I feel, if I totally lost all my cool with a two year old who threw her plate of veggies across the kitchen. Or, at least that I'm not alone in the craziness. We talk often, sometimes for hours, about motherhoods ups and downs, challenges and amazing rewards. We marvel together at all our children are doing and learning (Connor, for example, is months younger than Annie, but can name all 50 states, and spell ambulance and bridge to name a few of the words off his amazing spelling list. I have genius nephews!)
Liz is a smart, well spoken, supportive, opinionated, passionate, giving, amazing woman, and I love talking with her. We don't always agree on everything 100%, but we share so many core values and there is a definite respect there, and there are few people who's opinions I value more. She is well read, well traveled, well versed . . . just well rounded, I guess. She is loving and accepting of people of all backgrounds, firm in her faith and beliefs, passionate about her causes and a wonderful wife and mother to her family. The women of Greg's family (Liz, his sister Andrea, his Mom, several of his cousins) have been wonderful examples to me. They are passionate about a huge diversity of interests and ideas, and I have learned so much from them. Being a part of another family has opened up eyes and doors for me.
And today is Liz's birthday (which means she's also a Gemini! Another great quality to add to her list of virtues!) Happy Birthday Liz. Thanks for coming in and blazing the trail for me . . . you are a wonderful example. You are loved and adored by your husband, your children, your family, and your sister in laws! (I'm gonna go out on a limb, and assume that Andrea will agree with me on this one!) :-) I can't imagine my life without the sisters I gained through marrying Greg. You really would've thought four sisters was already enough, but apparently you can never have too many!

Happy Birthday Liz!
Happy Birthday to a great exmaple. A supportive, loving wife. An amazing Mom. Far better than she even realizes. A true friend, amazing sister, aunt and daughter to those who are fortunate enough to count her as such.

Liz with my very squishable nephew Nathan. Don't you just want to 'pillsbury doughboy' that belly!?

Liz and my other nephew Connor.

Here's Liz and I with our first babies . . . this was right before Chris & Liz left for Notre Dame (at a going away party at Murray Park).

Liz and Connor at Murray Park.The trailblazing begins . . .

(James, Andrea, Chris, Liz, Ruth, K.C. and Greg)

Bargain Shopping

Anyone who knows me is well aware of my shopping prowess (and addiction, obsession, whatever you want to call it.) Lately, I've tried very hard to stay out of stores and avoid shopping, but when Kohl's has a 30% off coupon, I always seem to get roped back in.
But this time I did well. I didn't even buy the adorable sweater that was 90% off for myself, 'cause I don't really need a new sweater. Are you proud? I am. I did get Greg some Father's Day presents, but mainly stuck to my major vice: girls clothing.
But I'm sure you can see and understand my excitement about getting these dresses at $3.00 a piece for my girls:

They're sizes 4-6, so they won't start fitting Annie 'til next year or so, but at $3.00 each, I couldn't resist! (I also got a cute little white skirt, that she's wearing now for $1.60, but I don't have a picture of it, 'cause she's out to a movie with her Uncle David).

Oh, clearance racks, how do I love thee? (I was mildly bummed Annie's shown no interest in Hannah Montana or High School Musical, since there were racks of cute accessories and purses and toys and Easter baskets all bearing those logos & pictures at 80-95% off). Now I just need to spend the rest of the month out of the stores, since all my birthday cash is now gone.

You Make Bathtime So Much Fun

My girls love to take baths. Love to play in the water, splash and make believe a whole new world with their bath toys (well, Annie does . . . Ellie just likes to chew on hers). Annie played in the bathtub the other day for a good hour and a half. I love when she decides to take a big, long bath while Ellie's napping. I know exactly where she is, and I can thoroughly clean my bathroom and bedroom without any kids underfoot. She is so funny to listen to, as she explains to all the bath toys what the plan/scene/game/task is, and has all of the toys play their part as she orders from above like some kind of large, aquatic movie director. Ellie is a big fan of the bathtub too, although I don't let her take daily baths like Annie (Ellie's sensitive skin breaks into eczema so easily, that we have to be careful about not only soaps, but water -- for instance, if she spills water on her shirt during lunch, I have to change it immediately, or she will have a rash wherever her shirt was wet). Other days, when Annie's bathing without her, Ellie will stand outside the bathtub and throw toys, towels, makeup, just about anything she can get her hands on, into the tub with Annie. But when she is allowed to bathe, she has the time of her life. And is on a high clear up until we insist on putting on a new diaper.

Outside the bathtub, Ellie's extreme love and fascination with her big sister seems to grow, exponentially, each day. Annie merely needs look at her (even glaring) and Ellie erupts into excited laughter and squeals of delight. She will try to mimic everything Annie does or says, trying to laugh like her, sing like her, and she spends most of her morning in a near sprint as she runs as fast as her little legs can carry her holding on to the back of Annie's trike, as Annie makes loops around the kitchen after breakfast. I am shocked at how fast Ellie can run (while holding on to the back of the seat) to keep her with her sister.

This video seemed the perfect combination of how much Ellie loves both bathing and her sister . . .

Happy Birthday Jessi!

One of my best friends, Jessi, is turning 30 today!
It's amazing to me that I'm lucky enough to have friends like this that I can say I've know for half my life. Jessi and I met, and bonded, in High School. Being so likeminded and all. Here we were, two freakishly talented women and writers who understood on a very fundamental level how important it was to celebrate your birthday for an entire month (week, minimum) before the actual day. (Note to Jessi: If you go and have not one, but TWO, kids in the week or two before your birthday, it really quashes your birthday celebrating opportunities. Worth it, of course, but be forewarned.) It's no wonder we became such fast friends (that and we were the only two sophomores on the High School newspaper). By our Senior year we had something like 6 of our 8 classes together, plus we were often staying after school (around deadline time) working on the newspaper for hours (sometimes until the janitor kicked us out.) I think there are few people on this earth I have laughed so much with, or have so many quirky shared stories (near death Zuka juice trips, the closet of fame, the Evil Morgano, getting in a car accident (miles from school) during 7th period and having to call our teacher to come pick up the newspaper (and us)). Jessi was called along as reconissance as soon as I realized there might be something with this Greg boy (she came to my Single's Ward Skate Night activity just to scout him out . . . how's that for friendship?!) Even years from then, we can talk for hours. When I worked, I used to send her long, rambly emails about all the various drama going on in my life. She'd assure me that everyone else was crazy, I was perfectly reasonable, and that I should start a blog. Jessi just got married at the end of last year, to a wonderful husband. And between them and their adorable dog Piper, she's given my family a whole 'nother family to love and be a part of.
Happy Birthday, to another great Gemini!
(P.S., there were so many cute pictures from Jessi's wedding (unfortunately I didn't have anything more recent), but I think Jessi looked the most gorgeous in this one. It's definitely not my best photograph. But really, what better defines friendship then picking the better picture of the other and posting a crappy picture of myself on my own blog. I just love her that much.) :-)


Unrelated . . . Sorry Jessi, I made your birthday post share with my kids . . .

Why Do I Even Buy Toys?

It seems my girls' favorite things didn't come from the toy section of the store.

Ellie, for example, will happily watch the washing machine for awhile. She also loves hangers. And headbands. Pill bottles. And her Dad's watch. The other day she grabbed a hairbrush and found the dryer door open. This lent itself well for her banging the brush into the sides of the dryer, or throwing the brush loudly into the dryer's drum. Only to have to half crawl in to get it back out. The kid was having the time of her life. She was laughing so hard, and loving it so much, I had to go grab the camera.

Both of my girls love spending time in the bathroom. Often together. Just laughing. I'm not actually sure what it is that's so hilarious in there, except that Annie will get into the bathtub and with Ellie trapped outside of it, the two will play peekaboo for quite awhile. (Like long enough for me to do my makeup!)

Annie's favorite 'toy' by far though is any of our cameras. She would take pictures all day if I let her. This is probably the most expensive thing she plays with, and it stresses me out (I give her our older Canon PowerShot to use, rationalizing that we're not really out anything if she ruins it), but she will happily shoot picture after picture. I have to watch these closely when I'm loading them onto my computer, as she is pretty stealthy, and has gotten some awfully embarrassing photos of various members of our family. Here is one she took of herself the other day.
Ellie's favorite thing of all right now has to be her big sister. She will laugh and giggle and squeal and mimic and do everything she can to get Annie's attention. Sure, Annie just yells, "Stop doing that!" to her in response like 70% of the time, but Ellie is a die hard fan. Annie started laughing in the car about something, and Ellie mimicked the laugh perfectly. So Annie laughed again, and Ellie tried out that laugh too. I couldn't stop laughing, it was so cute to watch Ellie try and be just like her big sister. Of course, all things with two little kids end with at least one in tears, so pretty soon Annie was sick of this game, and yelling at her sister to be quiet and "Stop making those noises Ellie!" But Ellie was still smitten with her and cooed and 'talked' to her big sister the rest of the drive home (while her sister pouted because mean Mom had taken away her toy for the rest of the drive due to her excessive scolding of her nothing-but-happy little sister.

Athletic Prowess

So, watching Annie climb onto the potty is terrifying. I can't watch, since I spend the whole time picturing her plummeting off the toilet onto her little head. She climbs up on to it, stands up, carefully walks herself around the toilet seat so she's facing the right way, then climbs down into a sitting position. It all looks fairly precarious to me.

Today as Annie was climbing onto the toilet before bath time, she made it clear the extent of this athletic feat when she exclaimed, "Mom, toilets are just like little rock walls!"

Them's the Shakes

Annie and I made breakfast together this morning. We added carrot juice, orange juice, plain yogurt, a banana, some flax seed and a whole bunch of frozen strawberries and make a "breakfast shake," as Annie like to call it. I don't know what Annie enjoys more, making the smoothie, or drinking it . . . but it's always a hit.
But I was surprised when breakfast wasn't even over yet, and Annie was standing up to the counter with the blender on it, asking, "Mommy, can we do shakes?"
"Shakes?" I asked, confused, "Baby, you still have some of your shake on the table . . ."
"No Mom," she said, "I want us to do shakes."
"Um, Annie. We already made shakes this morning . . . "
"No Mom, I really want shakes."
"Annie . . . you still half of your shake left . . . "
"OK Mom," Annie said, in her best let's-start-from-the-beginning voice, "I want us to do shakes. OK. See, you have a circle," she said slowly as she traced a circle in the air, "It is round."
"OH! You want us to do SHAPES!" I said as I got the lace up shape cards out of the cabinet that's up above the blender. "Shapes. Gotcha."

Strawberry Shorty Pants*

"Oh Mommy!" Annie ecstatically cried, "This is so so so so much fun!" Then there was a squeal of joy. Seems Annie and her Daddy just came in from picking strawberries. We actually picked and ate something from our own yard! Yay us! Maybe this will motivate us to actually plant the rest of our garden.


(It should be noted that I deserved absolutely no credit for this berry bounty . . . pretty much forgetting we even had strawberry plants out back until my Mom asked me yesterday if we've picked any yet. Um, no . . . but now that you mention it, that's a good idea! So after we got home from Church, I sent Greg and Annie (in the rain) out to pick berries. Annie apparently thought it was the coolest thing ever.)

And unrelated, when we went on one of our walks the other day, I couldn't find Ellie's normal hat, so I threw this bandana on her very bald head. How freaking cute is that?!

*Shorty Pants has long been a nickname for Annie.

Bump, Bump

At the end of our day, Aunt Talina, Aunt Star, Annie and I all gathered around my bed to say bedtime prayers with Annie before putting her to bed (although, it didn't stick, it was a good hour before she actually fell asleep). I asked, "Who's going to say prayer?" To which Annie promptly responded by bowing her head, tightly squeezing her eyes shut and rattling off, "Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this day [slight pause, looks up] Oh, me!" answering my initial question, then launching right back into her prayer. It loses a lot in the translation, what with the comic timing of the actual event and all, but trust me, this was hilarious.

We had a big day, taking full advantage of the fact Talina was bumped from stand by yet again, and had the day off work because of it. Talina and Uncle Cody walked with us to the library, the store, went to lunch, played at the park and in general had a fun morning. Then later that afternoon we headed up for the "Relay for Life" event up at This is The Place Heritage Park, to support Aunt Lacy and her team's fundraising efforts. Annie fell asleep on the drive up there, and woke up as the world's grumpiest, least reasonable toddler in history. Which is saying something. Only the plethora of dogs walking around, and the giant Beezz mascot, got a smile out of her while we wandered the event. She managed to cheer up right before we left. After getting home, her Aunts and I relived a childhood favorite on YouTube. Annie thought this was the single funniest thing she's ever seen, laughing the entire time, and was singing "Put it in the bag bump bump!" under her breath while in bed for awhile (before she majorly melted down and whined and cried for the next hour.)



Did anyone else sing this while cleaning up their toys as a child? Or was that just us?

Rainy Adventures

So Greg was home sick today.
Which meant I either needed to leave the house, or spend the day glaring at him as he relaxed in bed and I cleaned up accidents and made meals. (I love him, and was sweetly doing the cold wash clothes, fresh water and hand holding last night . . . but once he's actually done vomiting and the body shakes have subsided, I kinda can't help but stare at him thinking, "Wimp. You've been asleep for 18 hours and haven't thrown up in 12. There are dishes to be done . . . " But, since I understand that he needs his rest, and I need to not start resenting his fourth straight hour of playing the Nintendo DS, the best bet is for the girls and I to find some out-of-the-house-activity to occupy us.) :-)
But then there's been the rain.
The nonstop, never ending, downpour that has made it nearly impossible to go to the park or even play in the backyard for nearly a week now. So, when my Mom called and told me she was supposed to go pick up my sister Talina from work and take her to the airport, I quickly volunteered for the job. Talina could leave work anytime after noon, and didn't have to be to the airport 'til after 3PM; and with the University Hospital, where she works, being practically right next door to the zoo, it seemed a pity not to stop in. So, Annie, Ellie, Talina and I went to the zoo. Despite the storm clouds and cold temperatures. And really had a great time. Around the time we were riding the carousel, the rains came. It was wet (and cold.) We decided to take refuge in the dry, warm, (smelly), reptile house. Where Ellie fell head over heels in love with meerkats. We killed some time, hoping that the rains would die down, but boy were we mistaken. The rain had picked up, and there were little lakes and raging rivers of water along all the pathways. I even think I started noticing the animals pairing off. We had brought in one umbrella. I proved to be a wonderful mother and sister, as I had Talina take Ellie and the umbrella and start the long trek back to the gate. Annie and I made a run for it. And got soaked. I tried using Annie as an umbrella, but she was an especially wiggly, giggly umbrella, and utterly useless in keeping my hair dry. We both utterly enjoyed splashing in puddles and getting wet. It's the kinda moments I sometimes miss out on, trying to be the 'Mom' and keeping everyone clean and dry and pristine. It made me want to go make a mudball or something. I loved just being silly, and wet, with my little girl. We eventually made it back to the van, and started the next leg of our journey.
Talina and I had googled 'cupcakes Salt Lake City' before leaving today. I've been wanting a good cupcake, and wanted to check out some of the places I've heard raved about online. So, we hit not one, but two, cupcake shops. The first was actually a regular bakery, and Talina, Annie and I split a chocolate cupcake with chocolate frosting. Talina and I were less impressed. Call me crazy, but cupcakes should be sweet. Or at least flavorful, lemony, tart or something. We thought it was bland. Well, almost bitter, but mainly bland. Annie on the otherhand may still be off somewhere licking her hands, the bakery box, the cupcake liner, anything that has some chocolate stuck to it. Glad at least someone enjoyed the $3 cupcake. (Actually, when I ran into the bakery from out of the rain, and saw some of the prices, I almost turned around and went back to the van, but felt stupid just leaving, so ended up buying our most expensive, and least impressive, cupcake from that bakery.)
Our next stop was at Mini's Cupcakes. The rain had kicked it up a notch. Something I wouldn't have thought possible. So, I rushed through a downpour that would've caused Noah to have flashbacks. But, it was worth it, 'cause this one cupcake was a Madagascar Vanilla Bean cake with cream cheese frosting that I would've braved snow, sleet or hail for . . . and I used my own body to shield the precious cargo (i.e. the box with the cupcakes in it) and I arrived safely back to the van to my waiting sister and children. It's like 6 hours later and my shoes are still wet, and my hair is freakish in it's frizz, but those cupcakes were so good.
We still had a little time to kill, so we did a little shopping. Where Annie made up a new song, she loudly and proudly sang in the middle of the bookstore. It went something like, "We're going to the potty! Going to the potty! Mommy and Annie need to go to potty training!". Then, after several customers and employees got a kick out of my daughters antics, we headed out and took Talina to the airport, ditched her and started to head home. When Annie suddenly announced she had to pee. Now. We were just a few minutes from my grandparents house, so I told Annie we'd stop there. And then she proceeded to have a complete meltdown. She screamed that she wouldn't pee anywhere but at her own house, but I was trying to point out that we were still aways from home. And since I didn't want her to have an accident in the carseat, I stopped at their house anyways. She wouldn't leave the van willingly, screaming bloody murder the entire time I was carrying her into their house. Yeah, that's not embarassing or anything. Hello my grandparents neighbors! Anyway, so we get inside, I sit her down and try to 'talk' to her. I give her the following 'option'. She could go use the bathroom here, or we could take off her panties and she would have to wear Pull Ups for the rest of the ride home. I thought I had her over a barrell on this one, 'cause the kid has not worn diapers or Pull Ups since her birthday over three weeks ago. "OK," she said, taking off her pants and panties right there in my grandparents frontroom as her tears magically ceased, "give me the Pull Ups." Crap. That didn't work. But then again, nothing would get peed on, so it wasn't a total loss. (Note: Peeing at Grandma's or Great Grandma's bathrooms, no freaking way. Peeing in gross gas stations restrooms, grocery store or Walgreen's bathrooms, totally cool. Weird.) We stayed and played at my grandparents house for awhile, before getting a call from my sister Talina at the airport that she had not gotten on her flight (stand by), and could we come pick her up. She promised a Cinnabon for my efforts, and I got there as soon as I could, exclaiming it was the best souvenir I've ever received from someone who didn't actually go anywhere. (It is still in on my counter though, waiting 'til later. I have basically had like 2 and a half cupcakes already today.) At this point though, Bangerter heading South was a complete nightmare, so my genius idea was to head way west, and head South on 8400 West. Of course, I don't really know where I'm going up by the airport, so I hopped onto I-80 Westbound (hoping I'd somehow, magically, hit 201 that way. You do not hit 201 on I-80. Which makes sense if you think about it. Which I obviously didn't.) So, we headed West, until I was pretty confident the only option was to turn around, head down Bangerter and find the actual 201 onramp, and not the fabled one we'd left civilization in search of. But then at the exit we took, it really looked like if we just headed South, we'd end up where we wanted to be. So, we headed South. Even once we were no longer on actual pavement, we just kept going South. Annie thought this was the coolest thing, loving the bumps and the mud, exclaiming, "Our van is getting so dirty!" At one point we were like, "Hey, look, it's the backside of the dump!" Then we followed a truck that was covered in mud, and swerving to hit all of the puddles, until we made it back to 5600 West. Just a minute or two from where we'd started this adventure 20 minutes ago. It was a more scenic route though. And Annie liked the seagulls. And we did eventually get home (after one, possibly two, more wrong turns on my part, but I'm not admitting to that.) It was a fun day, and by the time we got home after 6PM, Greg had even gotten up and showered (and nearly finished his Zelda game, from the looks of it.) The girls were wiped out, and ready for bed. All in all, a good day.

The Problem with Potty Training

So, we were just leaving Walgreens. Greg isn't feeling well (self-diagnosed swine flu), and the girls and I had left him to sleep while we went to buy him various drugs. The torrential rains were coming down. I ran the girls out to the van . . . threw Annie in her door, ran around and got Ellie strapped into her seat, then rushed back to get Annie all fastened in, then dove in my door. I was pretty wet, my hair a complete loss, but we were in and could head home. Until I heard my new least favorite phrase while out in public, "Mommy! I have to pee! NOW!" Crap.

Sooooooo, I jumped out of my seat, opened Annie's door, unfastened her carseat, ran around and got Ellie unstrapped and out, then ran back to Annie's side where, by now, she had climbed down out of her seat (heaven help the fool who tries to help her in or out of her carseat), grabbed her by the hand and made a mad dash through the parking lot back into the Walgreens. The lady who'd minutes before checked us out gave us an odd look, until I asked her where the restrooms were. Then she laughed and pointed them out.

Which leads to my least favorite outing activity . . . holding Ellie in one arm, resting her on my hip, while I one handedly try to get Annie situated on a public toilet. The mere thought makes me a little queasy. But, we're getting better at this, and I can now fling her onto a toilet seat using only my one hand and gripping under her arm. (Washing hands is even trickier, but there is no way I'm setting Ellie down on a public restroom's floor).

Anyway, so I now have Annie sitting proudly up on the toilet seat, and we wait. And wait. And WAIT.

'Til Annie suddenly pipes up, "Hmmm. I guess I don't need to pee anymore."