For Mine & Annie's Benefit

While Annie is sitting on my lap, 'patiently' waiting to feel Isaac kick, she loves to hear stories about herself in the womb. How anytime her Dad tried to feel her kick she'd go quiet. How whenever the doctor tried to listen to her heart, she'd roll away and kick him. How whenever I had another baby sat on my lap, she'd kick furiously until the baby was removed.

In preparation for Isaac's arrival, she's also loved going back and looking at all the pictures from when her and Ellie were born and in the hospital. Going through them tonight, her and I picked out our favorites of each girl's first three days. I decided to post 'em -- just for fun, and future reference and all that . . .

Here's Annie's very first picture. So happy. :-)
She came out screaming, and kept it up for quite awhile -- all the nurses and doctor were laughing, and as the doctor left the room she chuckled and said, "Good luck with that one."

One of our first family pictures.
Not to sound vain or anything, but for just having had a baby, does my hair rock or what!? I can't get it that smooth and shiny now!

Annie in my arms on our first full day in the hospital. She was so teeny. (6lbs 8oz.) Interestingly, Ellie was even smaller at just under 6lbs., but no baby has ever seemed as tiny to me as Annie did those first few days.

Annie and I almost ready to go home.
(Compare this picture to the ones right after Ellie's pregnancy, and it becomes pretty clear which pregnancy I gained 15 lbs. with and which one I gained 40 lbs. with -- I think my face is thinner in these pictures, two days after giving birth, then in my wedding pictures!)

Big yawn.

Dad & Baby Popeye getting ready to leave the hospital.

Our first full day home -- in Greg's favorite 'outfit' ever for Annie -- a Tigger robe.
(Dang, she was beautiful!)

Here's Ellie -- two years and one day after the birth of our first. She is also mightily pissed off.

Ellie and I in one of our first pictures together.

Ellie, proud new big sister Annie and Daddy.

My girls.

One of our only pictures of just the three of us from that morning.

Ellie -- one day old.

Getting ready to leave the hospital -- me with my baby, Annie with hers.

Ellie's first several days were at home on the bili-lights.

So, for no other purpose than to have them saved on my blog, those are the first three days of each of my girls lives. I can't believe we're like 10-12 weeks from another first three days!

How Much!?

So, we just bought almost 300 pounds of wheat today.

Sounds excessive, right? I would've thought so too, but we realized two things today. 1.) Macey's caselot sale is going on, and they have buckets of wheat for $12.98 or something like that, which is a good $10 less than normal. (We also bought Vital Wheat Gluten and Dough Enhancer much cheaper than normal -- two useful things for breadmaking -- an art I'm just starting to delve into.) And 2.) Greg and I just noticed today that we've gone through 45 lbs a week in a little less than three months. THREE MONTHS. FORTY FIVE POUNDS! I had no idea. I got my wheat grinder for Christmas, and it took us a couple weeks to get around to setting it up, not to mention we still had wheat flour on hand we'd purchased in the past, so we didn't get going with it right away. Then, to add to my cluelessness of our wheat consumption, Greg actually runs most of the wheat through the grinder on Saturday mornings when he makes us whole wheat waffles, while I'm upstairs getting ready or entertaining the girls, so I had never noticed the bucket steadily emptying.

I'm amazed we went through so much though. I mean, I make bread once a week or so. Just one loaf, in the automatic breadmaker (that's as tricky as I get). We still buy most of our bread at the store, for stuff like toast and sandwiches; I just make it so we have something warm and tasty to spread butter and jam on for a snack now and then. Greg makes us waffles, and his amazing whole wheat pizza dough. And the occasional dinner rolls. And I use it if I make cookies with the girls or something, we've tried to replace white flour (at least half of it) in any baking we do. But really, it never felt like that much. If I ever got with my whole 'make all our own bread' crazy dream, who knows how much we'd go through, what with the almost daily french toast, toast or sandwiches my girls down. So, for the first time in my life, 300 pounds of wheat just doesn't sound that crazy anymore.

Tooth Woes

Early in my pregnancy, my dentist warned me that I'd need to come back in soon to get an old filling upgraded to a crown. The tooth wasn't going to hold forever, since it was a gigantic filling to begin with. I promised I'd come back in my second trimester -- as soon as the nausea subsided. Then my second trimester came, my morning sickness persisted and I canceled the appointment I made. Then, the nausea was gone, but I was a lazy bum, and never called and made the appointment. Until, yesterday, I noticed a nice big crack in my molar, and the stalling could only take me this far. It was time to pay the piper. Or the dental professional. Either way, it was gonna cost me.

So, early this morning I left the girls with my Mom (note to self: free babysitting is awesome. Lending the free babysitter my van so she can 'run a few errands' with the girls, even better. She may just stop by not one, but two, different stores, to buy the girls matching jackets, two matching shirt (each), and a brand new parka and ski bibs in a size 2T for our unborn child. Sweet!) I left for the dentist, only barely starting to break into a cold sweat. Have I mentioned I have extreme dentist phobia? Which is too bad, 'cause I actually love my dentist, and his whole staff. (My fear is deep enough, that when I called Greg on Thursday to tell him I'd need to see the dentist the next day, he asked, "Do you want me to get the morning off to come with you?" In unison now: Awwww, sweet.) I assured him I could manage by myself (a decision I almost ended up regretting when the dentist and his employees almost refused to give me my keys back to drive home. The hygienist threatened, "If we get a call later from your husband saying, 'Do you know where my wife is? She had an appointment like three hours ago.' And you're on the side of the road dead, I'm gonna be pissed.")

ANYWAY, first things first, we had to get my mouth numb. I wasn't too worried yet, as only one quadrant of my mouth doesn't numb well (the whole dental phobia thing actually comes from a root canal gone very, very badly, when I first discovered the bottom left side of my mouth doesn't numb completely. I now need to take some deep breaths and go to my happy place for a bit, until the memory subsides and I can type again.) Anyway, back to this appointment, the dentist always pre-numbs the area with some topical stuff, then I barely feel the needle. So, I wasn't too worried yet. Until the second the metal hit the inside of my mouth, and a little electric jolt shot through my lip. "Darn my accuracy!" my dentist apologized. Seems if you hit a nerve directly, it instantly deadens it, and creates a nice little shock. My lip was asleep. And soon, so was my right half of my face, including my ear. (Which was amusing when I tried to put in my ear buds in so I could listen to my iPod . . . I couldn't feel anything in my ear at all, so I kept randomly prodding my ear, convinced I was somehow missing it, until my amused dentist finally put his hand on my arm and said, "Um, I think you got it there . . . you may want to stop stabbing your ear with your headphones now.") He apologized and explained I'd be numb for most of the day now. Oh great, since this gave me several extra hours in which to accidentally chew up the inside of my cheek.

Off to a good start. I put on my headphones -- normally I watch whatever movie is on, and listen to the amusing nonstop banter between the dentist and his hygienist. But, I've been feeling nauseous the last several days (have I mentioned my morning sickness seems to have reappeared? 'Cause it has. I just haven't wanted to whine about it. But it sucks SO BAD. I'm miserable, and whiny, and no longer feel like keeping it to myself. Sorry.) So I decided that I was going to put on my Hypnobabies tracks that work so well to put me to sleep, and listen to those at full blast and just try to breathe away the drilling noises in my head. Plus, I joked with the dentist, if they can't get me through a dentist visit, what's the chance they'll be much help for labor? I was actually super impressed with my progress. All the drilling and suctioning and I was doing fine. I was calm, I wasn't gripping the armrests all white knuckled. Not once had the dentist or the assistant asked, "Are you still OK?" so I apparently was maintaining a normal color and sweat level. I was impressed with myself and my Hypnobabies breathing. Then, the very last drill, that kinda roughens up the tooth so it adheres better to cement . . . it made things kinda smell like burning tooth. Which is awful, and hit instantly, and I suddenly drained of all color, got clammy, asked them to turn a fan directly on me, and spent the next 10 minutes fighting with everything I had not to pass out. I felt exactly like I did right before I passed out after Annie's surgery, but I think sheer will kept me awake. (I was not gonna risk passing out and possibly peeing my pants at the dentists office. Sure, you have a seizure, pass out and lose control of your pregnant bladder at the hospital, they have scrubs for you to change into . . . at a dentist's office, not so much. Sheer will power, people.) The assistant kept apologizing profusely, fanning me and assuring me I "was a trooper." I just felt lame, but at least I was pregnant this time -- there have been other near fainting spells at the dentist office without such a good excuse (bad root canal history though -- that's a pretty solid excuse in my book). They were able to finish quickly, without any more problems. I laid there for a few minutes, then gathered myself and went up to make my follow up appointment in two weeks. (Sigh.)

I was given a drink of water afterwards, and then the receptionists all forced me to eat a cookie (I tried to tell them it was a blood pressure drop, not blood sugar, but it was the only way they were gonna let me drive home), so I clumsily chewed an E.L. Fugde, worried the whole time it was gonna come dribbling outta the corner of my mouth. The good news is I made it home in one piece. Also, I can feel most of my face now. I'm no longer at risk of jamming things needlessly hard into my ears. And it's only 8PM!

Name That Baby

While looking through some old photo albums -- Greg and I came across pictures of this baby:
For some reason, this and many other pictures of this particular little girl, reminded us of Ellie. Something in the face shape, smiles and expressions. Anyone want to guess who this baby is?

Sleeping Baby

At nap time today, Ellie (through a series of emphatic gestures, and the repeated phrase, "Sisser! Sisser!") informed me that rather than nap in her own crib today, she wanted to nap in Annie's bed. I was skeptical, but figured we could give it a try. After ten minutes, she wasn't asleep, but was quietly lying in bed. I went in, kissed her again and told her to sleep. This caused her to fuss for a minute, but I think she was asleep not longer after I shut the door behind me. She looked so cute (and freakishly teeny tiny) in Annie's big twin size bed, so I just had to get a picture. Annie had to follow me in -- and I couldn't argue with her about it in the sleeping child's presence. Annie was highly amused by this.


Things worked well. For about 40 minutes. Then Ellie woke up. Ellie typically wakes up about 40 minutes into naptime, fusses for anywhere from ten seconds to ten minutes, then conks out again for another hour or so. (She also wakes up almost EVERY. SINGLE. MORNING. around 6AM, again for anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes (just long enough to wake up Mom enough so that she never falls asleep again), then she falls back asleep until 7AM or so.) Well, not this time. Stupid bed. She actually stayed in the bed, somehow never dawning on her she could get out of it, but she never did sleep again. At one point I went in and laid her back down in her crib and told her it was naptime, but she didn't buy it, and never did get the second half of her nap today. Which should make for an interesting evening. :-)

Knows What She's Talking About

When Annie finished her lunch today, I asked Ellie if she wanted what was left over (Ellie had already had thirds, but was still acting hungry). "Mo, mo" she laughed as she enthusiastically signed 'more' over and over and over again. Annie looked at me, with wide eyes and said, "Well I suppose someone is hungry!" I laughed and agreed. A few seconds later, Annie turned back to me and asked, "I used 'suppose' right, didn't I? That was the right word? What exactly does suppose mean?" I assured her she'd used it perfectly, and we talked about how else it could be used and what it means. It made me proud to see her take a stab at a word she wasn't 100% sure on. This is my kid who when learning to talk, would quietly mutter a word over and over again, sometimes for days, before she'd loudly say it for the 'first' time once she knew she'd perfected it. She doesn't like to be wrong, or to sound like she doesn't know what she's talking about, so I was impressed at her using language she wasn't 100% sure about.

Earlier in the meal Annie'd been counting, to some arbitrary number she'd chosen. Upon finishing, she triumphantly cheered, "And I was correct!" I love watching a three year old experiment with words -- when "I was right" would've worked just as well, and been the 'easier' word, they just seem to try and reach for new ways to say the same things.

Ellie, Can You Hear Me?

"How is her hearing?" the professionals would ask, right off the bat, whenever I got into a discussion about Ellie's speech delays.

"Oh great! She notices the littlest of noises from outside, she pulls me to the window to tell me she heard a dog or a truck or a bird. Her hearing definitely isn't the problem," I'd assure them.

So, guess who failed her hearing test this morning?

I feel like a freakin' genius.

Well, she has a cold right now, and they said with the pressure in her ears, that her ear drums were hardly moving and she wasn't registering much below 25 decibels. So, we come back in a few weeks, when her nose is cleared up, and try again. So, we didn't really learn anything new, except that even when she doesn't have an ear infection, she may be dealing with hearing problems due to pressure. I might make another appointment with the ENT (we were just there yesterday with Annie), but I don't know what they can do really. She can't get tubes yet . . . they'd said if she'd had one more ear infection by the end of January, we'd do tubes, but she's been miraculously infection-free this season. She did have two infections back in fall, but none this winter . . . trust me, I know . . . I've taken her in three or four times absolutely convinced that her grumpiness and lack of sleep was due to another ear infection, but so far it's just been a big waste of multiple co-pays. (Annie was having pretty severe hearing problems right before her second set of tubes, but with constant ear infections and a history of tubes clearing them up, she was a no-brainer for surgery. Since Ellie's not really getting infections, who knows what options we have . . . ) We'll do the test again in a few weeks and see what happens . . . which Ellie will be happy about! She had the time of her life in the sound booth for the hearing test -- there were barking dog toys, and drum playing teddy bears, and things would light up and start to sing when she'd look towards the sounds . . . she was laughing and giggling the whole time. When we came out of the booth, the audiologist said, "Well, she certainly has joy in her life!" As we were leaving, Ellie ran back to the sound booth, and threw herself against the door, refusing to leave because she just wanted to go back inside and do it again. I assured her we'd be back again soon . . .

Her other tests went great -- vision tests and health histories were all taken care of this morning. Now that all her medical stuff is done with the school district (or, done-ish, since they're not counting this hearing test), they said they'll pass it on to her assigned speech therapist, and we'll move on from there . . .

Now I'm patiently waiting. (Why hasn't anyone called yet?!)

They Learn Quickly

I've blogged more than once about Annie's stalling techniques for bedtime.

Seems Ellie's picked up a thing or two.

Ellie was still freaking out in bed late the other night, when I went in to calm her down. She (using her brilliant homemade sign language) insisted I kiss her cheek before I left. I kissed her right cheek, patted her head, laid her back down and left the room. Only to return a minute later, as a screaming Ellie was bellowing for me. There she stood at the edge of her crib, pointing at her left cheek and sobbing, "Mama! Mama!" Apparently I'd forgotten that side.

(Sleep is still a tough one at our house -- ever since the cursed Day Light Savings -- both girls can be rubbing their eyes and barely able to stay awake, we can have them in bed, read to and teeth brushed by 7:15. Yet, the majority of nights, we have two screaming or happily talkative children (it changes, but either way, they're awake) annoying the crap out of us at 9PM. Which means all three of us girls are all overly tired and frustrated and grumpy the next day. Some nights we separate them, putting Ellie back into the nursery -- which works for that night, but doesn't get us any closer to them being able to get to sleep while sharing a room. (Which, I should mention, they'd mastered BEFORE Day Light Savings came along and screwed everything up.) The other night a bleary eyed, slightly nauseous, pregnant Mom threatened Annie that if she said ONE. MORE. WORD. to her little sister to keep her awake, she would have to sleep in the hall that night on the floor. True to my cranky word, Annie spent that night in her sleeping bag in the hall outside her bedroom for having dared try speaking to her little sister again about five minutes after my warning. There's a possibility Annie's been a bit better since then, but it had little effect on Ellie, which means Ellie just chatters on, keeping poor nearly-silent Annie awake. I'm completely and totally out of ideas, and at this point have just resigned myself to the idea of this is just a phase (a horrid, awful phase) that I'll just wait 'til they grow out of. 'Cause there doesn't seem to be anything else I can do.)

Easter Post the Second

Annie joined in the friendly family game of croquet. Fortunately nobody was injured, and Annie avoided any of the real violence.
What? That's not how your family plays?! My little brother Cody was at one point yelling, "Defense! Defense!" and practically body checking people away from his ball.

Everyone figured it was safer for Ellie to walk around with a plastic golf club that the croquet mallet.

Annie actually decided she likes the lighter club and balls as well.

Strike a pose.
Did I ever mention that at the ages of 8 and 6, my sister Star and I were on the cover of a Hawaiian golf magazine? Apparently it's in the blood. (I need to track down that picture and scan it in and get it on the blog).

Star and Lacy.

Greg and I watching the action from the sidelines, since we decided for my safety and the safety of the baby, it'd be best to avoid any full contact lawn sports with my siblings this Easter.

Ellie playing with my Uncle Karl.
For those of you who don't know -- my Mom's baby brother, Karl, was born with cerebral palsy. He's blind and in a wheelchair, and one of my family's most beloved members. My girls do so well with him, and it never ceases to amaze me how much he 'normalizes' certain disabilities for my children. I've watched other kids, less familiar with someone who looks, talks and acts so differently, pull away from my Uncle. Even run away. But, my girls are usually quite comfortable with him, and are cute to watch run around, ducking and weaving between all the wheelchairs in the home he lives in now. And crawling on their poor Uncle when he's out of his chair and lying on the floor at family parties. They give him hugs and hold his hand and give him kisses when they see him. He adores them too -- happy to just touch their little hands and little feet. He asks for "Baby Annie" and "Baby Ellie" as soon as he knows they're coming. I've always had a very close relationship with him -- in fact, he was the one who informed his parents I was getting married, as right around the time Greg proposed, Karl kept singing "Here Comes the Bride" and saying "Hilary" over and over again, before we'd even had the chance to call and tell them the good news! (Although, upon marrying Greg I was totally usurped -- Uncle Karl LOVES Greg more than I can even express, and no longer asks for me but for Greg when he finds out we're coming over.) I can't imagine raising my kids without such first hand experiences with Karl and his friends.

Karl moved out of my grandparent's home and into a live-in facility in just the last few years. Because of this, we don't see him quite as often as we used to. Which means he's even more excited to see the girls, but sometimes Ellie can be a bit apprehensive right at first -- like when he was giving her Eskimo kisses in the video below (but from the picture above, you can see that she can sweetly look him in the eyes and smile, something that not all adults can do.)

There are a lot of long standing games and jokes between Karl and various members of the family. Because Karl mentally isn't much beyond where Annie and Ellie are, these games are typically silly, simple and crack him up to no end. One of his all time favorites is untying people's shoes. When he was younger, he spent a lot more time on the floor, so whenever anyone would stand by him, he'd grab their shoe laces and yank 'em loose and laugh uproariously. He spends more time at family things in his wheelchair now that he's older (and it's more of a feat to lift him in and out of his chair repeatedly), so this game now requires someone to nonchalantly place their foot up on the armrest of his chair, tip him off that the shoe is there (as he's blind and all), and goad him into untying it by repeatedly 'warning' him to not untie the shoe.) Greg has mastered this, and has limitless patience for this game, which is one of the reasons Greg tops Karl's 'favorite person list'.


Here's Annie on an Easter Egg hunt held in my parent's basement Sunday afternoon.

Ellie and Daddy during the Easter Egg hunt.

Ellie examining her bountiful basket.

Annie asked Aunt Star to tie her bow for her on her dress -- this is what happened:

Grandma & Grandpa gave each of the girls their own baseball set -- it was Annie's first time ever playing tee ball, and we were all pretty surprised how well she took to it!

The girls had so much fun this weekend, and were pretty spoiled by all their grandparents. There's new toys, books, stuffed animals and lots of goodies.

Interesting enough though, if you really wanna look at who racked up the most loot this weekend -- check out what the Easter Bunny, aka: my Mom, gave our youngest and still unborn child for Easter:

The 27 week gestational aged baby scored.

Easter Post the First

I'm splitting our Easter pictures into two different posts, as there are too many for one. :-)
This first one covers Saturday and Sunday with Greg's side of the family.

Here's Ellie in her 'Easter shirt' she got in her Easter basket on Saturday morning. (I didn't buy the girls matching Easter dresses this year, since with General Conference, we wouldn't be actually attending an actual public meeting on Sunday morning. The girls did get matching shirts and jackets though.)
Also, check out her new Cinderella necklace and purse. Stylin'.

Here's Ellie & Annie searching for Easter Eggs with some help from Grandpa KC on Saturday afternoon.

Ellie getting some Easter egg hints from Grandma Ruth.Annie happily showing off her full basket.Ellie was loving the whole idea of Easter eggs and baskets and finding candy all over the place. This is possibly her new favorite holiday.

Here's Ellie with her basket outside.

Because the menfolk had the Priesthood Session of General Conference to attend on Saturday evening, us girls (including Aunt Andrea and Grandma Ruth) got treated to dinner at Mimi's Cafe by Grandma. Here's Annie and Andrea.

Ellie all, "Dude, how can my pudding cup be gone already?!"

Little Miss Cheesy.

Ellie hanging out with Grandma Ruth.

Then, on Sunday morning, we headed back over to Grandma & Grandpa's house for a way tasty Easter breakfast, and to watch the first Sunday session of General Conference together (this is a tradition whether it's Easter or not). This is a cheesy self portrait of me before driving there, since I wanted to make sure I showed up in at least one picture this weekend. :-)

Ellie forced her Grandparents into about 15 rounds of "Ring Around the Rosies." She was laughing so hard, it was contagious. This is what Conference becomes when you're trying to watch it with two kids three years and younger.

Ellie right after the whole "all fall down" part . . .

Annie, just 'cause I had very few shots of Annie Easter morning.
Greg mentioned my photography being fairly 'Ellie-centric' as of late, but it comes down to Ellie being a complete ham, and constantly jumping in front of the camera, where it just doesn't really interest Annie right now.

Ellie playing with salt dough during Conference. Daddy was having fun with it too.

Ellie hiding from Daddy.

Around 12:30 or so, we headed over to my parent's house for some more family festivities (with about 20 people or so getting together at their house). But those pictures will be in the next post . . .

Who's Got the Power?

Saturday morning, my parents came by to see what the Easter Bunny had brought the girls in their Easter baskets. Annie invited them downstairs to see her 'clean' playroom, where Annie and Grandpa became engaged in an epic battle.

We took a lot of video, and this may not be amusing to anyone that wasn't there, but Greg and I cannot watch this without tears streaming down our faces at the antics of our all powerful preschooler.

Highlights: When Annie informs Grandpa that Ellie couldn't hold onto her whale because she "has baby hands", unlike Annie who has bigger hands and will never let go of her dolphin.
"I have Fifty Hundred power!" To which my Dad responds, "You do math like your Dad!"


"1-2-3 gallup!" "Magic DOLPHIN!" "I did it!"


"I have my magic gown on, and Ellie!" As Ellie twirls on and off screen. "Ellie, you should have the MAGIC KILLER WHALE!"


"I have all the power!" Grandma refusing to tickle Annie, despite, Grandpa's threat of not doing the gardens this year if she didn't switch allegiance.
"NO! You will tickle HIM Grandma!" Annie demands. She commands her Dad to come, Greg gets referred to as her minion, but she insists he has actual power as well, "He has ten power! Just like I have FORTY POUNDS. Pire? Power . . ."
Annie refusing to get Grandpa a magic gown of his own, as he can't fit in any.

"I have the veil of the dolphin."
"I have the ring of the princess!"
"I have the socks of the dwarves."
"I have all the magic power with my magic scarf."
"I have . . . um, I don't have my wedding ring . . . " Grandma pipes in, "You do have some pretty powerful reading glasses in your pocket." He finishes, "I have the power of Horizon!" (He meant Verizon -- he's not the one who pays the phone bill).

You just can't beat a girl with an all powerful Dolphin (whose main power was keeping her from getting tickled by the evil Grandpa) and a magic ball gown. (And a magic bracelet, a magic crown, magic high heels, a magic wand, a magic scarf . . . all while repeatedly shouting, "I have ALL THE POWER!")

Poor Easter Bunny

At breakfast this morning, Annie asked me, "So Mom . . . It's Christmas first. And it's cold. Then it's Valentine's, and it's cold. Then it's Easter . . . [long pause] . . . Mom, if the Easter Bunny turns into a popsicle, can he still hop?"

I assured her no bunnies would freeze to death in this freakish cold spell. Although, most of our Easter egg hunting plans will have to be shifted indoors. Bummer. Stupid snow.

So anyway, this morning the girls were up bright and early, excited to see what the Easter Bunny left for them.
(Which, obviously, means the Easter Bunny comes on Saturday morning at our house. To me, this is just my norm -- we always did the Easter Bunny/baskets/mass amounts of sugar in lieu of breakfast thing on Saturday morning when I was growing up, leaving Sunday morning as a more traditional, religious Easter, where one got dressed up fancy for Church and ate actual breakfast food instead of malted eggs, and we had a family party in the afternoon. So, when we had kids, I informed Greg that the Easter Bunny always comes on Saturday, giving you all day to happily play with your loot (oh, and Easter is like mini-Christmas, complete with toys, nerf guns, bubbles, candy and random hygiene products -- like Annie got 'floss stick animals' this year) without the pesky interference of getting your hair braided for Church. Then Sunday morning, there's a bit more reverence expected (as well as some sneaking of jelly beans), and more preparation for Church and less focus on the toys and Easter Bunny. Greg, being Greg, was all, "Sure honey, whatever you want to do," and that's how it's been ever since we had kids. Who else does this, the Saturday thing? Just out of curiosity?)

First order of business though -- waking up Dad. Which isn't as easy as one might thing. So, obviously in this video, he's faking still being asleep -- but let me tell you, my children use these exact tactics every weekend morning starting around 7:15AM, and although he might stir, grumble and roll over, he's rarely actually awake for more than a few seconds much before 8AM. (Then, he will nap once or twice during the morning, while the kids climb, jump and bounce all over him like he's their own personal jungle gym. He doesn't actually seem to notice much.) Oddly, if Ellie so much as rolls over in her bed, in the other room, anytime after 6AM, I'm wide awake for the morning. It seems supremely unfair.

Here's Ellie doing what she did all morning. Eating candy. And drooling it on my carpet. Note to people visiting: Do NOT accept any robin eggs from Ellie. They were all sucked on before being put in her little candy container.

She wasn't overly interested in giving the bottle to her brand new baby My Little Pony -- but she was cool walking around with it in her own mouth for the first little while. (No worries -- they totally bonded later, and she's been feeding and burping the baby ever since. While eating candy.)

Requisite outdoor toys for the year: balls and bubbles and side walk chalk.
There were no sandbox toys (which were a must when I was growing up), as we have no sandbox yet.

Annie decked out in some of her new jewelry.

Ellie with one of the new Nerf guns. Another requisite Easter item while I was growing up. 'Cause nothing says Easter and the miracle of life and rebirth like fake guns and ammo, I guess. :-)
And dang, these things are powerful -- Greg's nailed me in the back with 'em a couple times. On 'accident', he says.

Annie's favorite necklace of all -- it's a necklace, that's a purse, that hold 8 different rings inside -- it's like the best piece of jewelry in human history.

Annie sorting through her loot. This child was incredibly interested in every last little piece of her My Little Pony beauty salon, as well as every last thing stuffed into her Easter basket. She barely noticed her candy, and had maybe 5 jelly beans all morning . . .

Ellie on the other hand . . .

. . . it was all, "Give me candy or face my angry nearly-2-year-old wrath!"

Happily hoarding candy in what's supposed to be a piggy bank . . .

These pictures bring up one very important question: Which of my two children has the worst bedhead?