More Conversations with Imaginary People

"Hi, Doh doo? Yeah, hi, this is Annie. Yeah, is Iah there? Oh great, yeah . . . Oh hi Iah! How are you doing? Oh good. Good. Yeah . . . oh sorry, I can't talk, I'm on the other line. OK, talk to you later! Love you! Bye!" Why call just to tell her you have to go because you're on the other line . . . it's like a ploy to prove her popularity among the imaginary crowd or something. :-)
Then a minute later, "Hi Iah, it's Annie again. Yeah, it is so great to see you. Um, yeah. I was calling, I want to know if you and Doh doo want to go in the van with us to the store. You two can sit together, in the middle, and I will sit in my seat, and Ellie will sit in the other seat. Oh, yeah? Great! See you soon!"

On the sleeping front: Annie refuses to sleep in her princess bed now, for the last several days. The new bed. We bought for her birthday two weeks ago. That she loved more than life itself. She's told us that her bedroom just "isn't princess-y enough". So, obviously she needs to sleep on her bedroom floor, rather than in her princess bed, with princess bedding, princess pillows, princess dolls and a princess canopy. Obviously. Sigh. Stubborn little thing.

On the potty training front: Things had been going really well. But, as will happen, Annie had an accident. The really gross kind. But, being the resourceful little thing she is, she got disrobed and into the bathtub without any help from me. Which isn't actually a good thing, since I now have to bleach the heck out of my entire bathroom, especially the tub. Ewww. But, while in there, I could hear her talking to herself . . .
"That is not good Annie. Not good. It's rude even. Mommy is going to tell you that we don't poop in our panties. We should be bigger. This is miserable. Miserable. Princesses don't poop in their panties." I almost felt like I needed to go in there and cheer her up and keep her from getting too down on herself. When I talked to her about it later though, she seemed to have gotten herself out of the shame cycle, flippantly informing me that she's pretty sure she will stop pooping in her pants when she's a little bigger, like 8. That's reassuring.
This accident was a little disheartening, since it's the second in as many days. We only had one accident all of last week, and then she peed (at dinner) at Grandma & Grandpa's house yesterday, then this today. I was really shocked when she had her accident at someone else's house, it was very unexpected since she's shown such promise away from home . . . she's asked us to find her a bathroom at stores, even while driving, and LOVES using the potty at my Mom's house. She informed Greg and I, as we were cleaning her up in their bathroom, that she refused to use the potty at Grandma Ruth's house, and "will only go potty at our own house!" The problem here was we were both pretty convinced she wasn't 'done', and worried about her having another accident. I explained firmly that if she wouldn't use the potty where we were, and had another accident, she would have to wear a diaper whenever we left the house. She cried and cried and whined and whined and insisted she would only use "my own potty at my own house!" I think my in-laws probably thought we were beating her in there. Eventually, she calmed down, but despite spending a good 10 minutes on the potty, did stick with it and refuse to pee. Of course, this all just meant that on the drive home we had to pull off the freeway and find a gas station for a potty break. Sigh. Really, really stubborn little thing.

On the adorable front: After getting out of the tub (so that I could bleach the grossness out of it), Annie went into her room to get panties and an outfit. But what she came back with made me laugh. "Mommy!" I heard her excitedly shriek as she came crashing into my bedroom. "Mommy, look, my baby and I are matching!!!" And there she was with her My Little Pony baby, in cute little winter hats (and nothing else). She was so excited, gushing, "It's like we're twins!" Sigh. She may be stubborn, but she endlessly delights and amuses me.

Behold the Cuteness

Tongue Talkin'

Ellie's become a big 'tongue talker'. All day long, she has long flowing conversations where she just smacks her tongue around in all directions inside and outside of her mouth. OK, I don't know how to describe it exactly. Which is why there's video.

New Birthday Dress

Annie was beyond adorable this morning for Church. When she woke up I asked her what she wanted to wear, and she said, "My baby and me want to wear our matching ones." Annie's Grandma Ruth, being infinitely more talented then me, had made Annie a beautiful floral dress with an adorable pinafore . . . and there's nothing Annie loves more than twirling and dancing as this dress beautifully moves along with her. Grandma had even made the new Madame Alexander doll she gave Annie a matching outfit. I took a few pictures of Annie in the dress, with the doll . . . then also let Annie sing and dance around a little on video. And sorry, but parts of it are incomprehensible, since she loves to sing (and sometimes talk) in random syllables that don't resemble anything you or I know as the English language. Don't worry, I don't understand what she's saying either.

Chicken Walker

Ellie, much like her big sister, is kind of a chicken. Annie was like this with everything too . . . they both can know how to do something, be quite capable of it, weeks (sometimes months) before they'll let loose and just do it already. :-) So, Ellie's a little chicken walker . . . she took her first steps back in April. Daily now she's taking a few steps here and a few steps there, but all in all, she won't really try it very often. Because of her 'I may try this once a day, but you won't know when it will happen and there sure as heck won't be a repeat performance' attitude towards walking means I've gotten very little video of her attempts. Until yesterday. It's not much, but it's recorded.

And last, but not least, a few Annie stories from today . . .

On the car drive to Grandma's house for dinner:
"Did you know that cars park in garages and that airplanes and helicopters live in a big garage too, 'cept it's called a hangar. I don't know why it's a hangar. [Sigh] I just don't understand." This is the deep thoughts of a three year old who spent the previous day at the air show with her Aunt Talina and Uncle David.

On the drive home:
Annie asked to borrow Greg's phone to take pictures. She had been playing for a minute, when she handed the phone back up front and asked for help. She'd taken a picture and was trying to send it to Doh doo and Iah; she had filled in the phone number, typed a hundred characters or so into the message box, and wanted it sent. We told her we took care of it.
A minute later she commented about how she was worried they hadn't gotten the picture, and wanted us to send it again. Instead I suggested she go ahead and give them a call and ask them if they'd gotten it.
The one-sided conversation that followed was pretty funny. Unfortunately, I only remember parts of it, but it was basically a very apologetic Annie making one excuse after another . . . they didn't even make sense or 'flow' or anything together, it's like she'd just taken every single excuse she's ever seen anyone make and use it in one conversation (and literally, there were a dozen and a half or more of them, "I so sorry I didn't talk to you before, I was busy . . . I forgot to call you back . . . I sorry, I couldn't hear you . . . I know, I was thinking about it, but then it didn't happen . . . I'll have to call you back . . . Did you get the picture? I thought it got sent . . ."
Then, the statement that made both mine and Greg's ears perk up, "Doh doo," she said firmly, "you really need to start treating Iah better!" What-huh? Where did she even get that from? And should I be worried that her best imaginary friends, who are a short married couple, also seem to have a dysfunctional marriage? :-) Was he in the background making snide comments or something that required Annie to chastise him. I'm so confused. Imaginary friends sure are high maintenance.

Future's So Bright . . .

Ellie loves her sisters many pairs of sunglasses, and will (try to) put them on and take them off for great stretches of time (I sit there, holding my breath, hoping she doesn't jab 'em into her eye . . . but so far, she's retained both eyes while playing with all the sunglasses, so maybe I just worry too much.)

Bozo the Freakin' Clown

So, I had like the BEST idea ever last night.

A while back I was at Walgreens, where they had two packages of sponge rollers on clearance for $0.59. This brought back waves of nostalgia, as my sisters and I spent most of our Saturday nights (before Church on Sunday) in sponge rollers. I don't know exactly why I thought we'd need them, I mean, you all have seen Annie's hair, it's not exactly lacking in the curl arena. But, I got 'em, feeling like a mother of young girls, (especially a Mom who grew up in the '80s) should have such things in her arsenal. And then they've sat in a drawer for weeks.

Until last night. Where I suddenly got the genuis idea to try them out. On myself. I'd been bemoaning my lack of natural curl . . . I've gone 'curly' the last few days, and my hair just doesn't have as much curl as it used to. I don't really know what I was going for, or hoping for, or thinking . . . but at first I just put one curler in, just to see what it would be like when I took it out in the morning. Then I went back to the bathroom counter, and went ahead and just put in another, then another, then used a whole package.

They are surprisingly easy to sleep in.

But pretty horrifying when you take them out. It's like the worst perm I've ever had. And I've had some bad ones. I tried running my fingers through my hair, but to no avail. And some of the sections of hair were curled up so tight you couldn't really tell I'd taken out the curlers at all. I tried getting a brush through it, but that wouldn't work at all.

(Is it just me, or is it totally 'Grandma-permish'?)

(The pictures don't really do it justice . . . I mean, yeah, it looks big and spazzy and all, but only in person does it look completely fried and damaged beyond all reason. And I think y'all should be way impressed by my high level of self esteem, since I'm posting pictures where my hair looks hideous and I'm not wearing any makeup. And making a weird face. Oh, but one thing I had never noticed before, is that my brown eyes like perfectly match my hair. I like it.)

(Oh, and when Annie saw my hair this morning, she laughed. Kinda giggled. Then when asked what she thought, snorted out, "I don't think it's very pretty!!")

(Greg just asked me, "What's the title of your blog entry?" I called back, "Bozo the Freakin' Clown!" He laughed and said, "That's works . . . I'd been thinking about something along the lines of, "Oh, The Horror!")

Count Your Blessings . . . One by One by One by One . . .

Annie said her bedtime prayers again tonight. Seriously, there is no better part of my day (or none more amusing) then listening to this kid pray.
Tonight, she was very thankful. Trust me, she probably said she was thankful for like 900 things. It started out with the travelogue section of her prayers:
"Thankful we went to Costco. Thankful we went to WalMart. Thankful we went to the playground. Thankful we went with Jessi, oh and to Chick Fil A! And played on the playground there too!!"
Then she started talking about sleep:
"Thankful Ellie gets so much sleep. (She doesn't.) Thankful I got to stay up so so so so late. (It was 9:30.) Thankful we get to sleep so we can feel better."
Then later some of mine and Greg's favorite statements:
"Thankful that my little sister Ellie is getting bigger. Thankful that she is growing up to be just like me." (She sounded so proud.)
"Thankful for Daddy. And that he gets to be a whole family with Mommy, me and Ellie."

Eventually, all good things must come to an end . . . especially after a long day that is ending a full hour and a half later than normal (she had taken a nap today though, so we were scheduled to be up later), Greg did end up prompting her with a subtle, "We say these things . . ." and she promptly closed her prayer, opened her eyes and looked up at us and just beamed. I love this kid.

In other news, the girls and I had so much fun hanging out with my friend Jessi tonight. I was thinking about it, and realized we became friends around the age of 15, as sophomores . . . meaning we've been friends for half of our entire lives now that we're both turning 30 within a month of each other. How cool is it that I have people in my life I can say that about. And especially Jessi. One thing that both Jessi and I were just thrilled about tonight is that Ellie was in her most lovable, charming mood. She played and danced and clapped and laughed and grinned, all in the hopes of impressing Jessi. The remarkable part was that Ellie also 'hung out' with Jessi a good chunk of the time. She let Jessi hold her, carry her, get her out of the carseat, and she never even seemed even the littlest bit miffed about it. (Usually Ellie flashes her biggest attitude to anyone who dare keeps her from Mom for more than 15 seconds.) Ellie would want to come back to me after a bit, but it was really amazing how much she was enjoying her time just playing with Jessi, and just how much time it was. I love progess.

Conversations with Imaginary People

Annie's been talking on the phone with her imaginary friends a lot lately. Oddly, she's transitioned from Doh doo to Iah. Everything used to be about Doh doo, but she rarely talks about him or with him on the phone anymore, most of her conversations are with Iah (although, when they 'come over' they tend to arrive together . . . the other day during dinner, Annie made Greg get up and go and answer the door 'cause they had arrived. I tried to tell her to call them back and tell them to just come to the back door, but after a quick pretend phone call with them, she insisted they were waiting out front. So, Greg got up, during dinner, went and answered the door and let them in. Then we never heard anything more about them the rest of the night. For all I know, they're still wandering my house aimlessly.) :-)
Anyway, Annie was on her toy cell phone the other day, talking with Iah, when I suddenly heard her gush, "You know Iah, it is so great to be able to talk to you and to get to know you better!"

June 3rd

So, the four days are up. And none too soon. :-)
You see, from my birthday (on May 30th), Greg gets started . . . "I'm married to an older woman." This year was even worse 'cause it was days of, "I'm only in my 20s, and I'm married to a woman in her THIRTIES!" And it lasts four days, until June 3rd.

Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Chuckles, 'cause you're 30 now too! :-)

Happy Birthday!

Greg -- the Early Years
(And hon, you can tell how much I love you, 'cause that glamour-shots-Eagle-Scout-picture is nowhere to be found in this photo tribute. You're welcome!)

Greg & Hilary -- Dating

Greg & Hilary -- The Wedding Day

Greg & Hilary -- Disneyland, on our Honeymoon

Greg -- The Amazing Dad




(With goatee AND glasses, be still my heart!! We don't see that very often anymore!)

So, yep, we're four days apart. He didn't have long to tease me about being thirty, 'cause he's joined me now! I told Greg last night, I'm not a very good cradle robber/cougar, what with him being only four days younger and all. I mean, when Demi turned 30, Ashton was probably in grade school or something still. Considering I had to wait over the weekend when I turned 16, I probably only got my license like 2 days before Greg did.

Greg and I hadn't been dating long at all when we discovered that not only were we only four days apart, but had been born in the same hospital, lived in the same Stake (church boundaries), and were blessed in the same Church building. But, when I was four, and Greg was six, we both moved from the old 'hood with our families and ended up in completely different states for most of our childhood. When Greg was 16, his family moved back to Utah. We were in different high schools though, with no connection then. But, Greg went and served an LDS Mission in Mexico, and before he came home, I bought a condo that turned out to be 2 streets over from his parents house. I moved in June, and he came home in August . . . but during the same month later that year, October, we both decided to start attending the local Single's Ward and there spent the next couple years going to Church together each and every week, but basically not really noticing each other at all. (Funny story, I threw a party at my Aunt's house, about three months or so before Greg and I started dating. I have no memory of him being there, but looking back at pictures, there's multiple photos of the two of us standing right next to each other. Call me oblivious.) But, eventually, things fell into place, we hung out and played cards one weekend, then the next, then from then on we have spent as much time together as humanely possible, every single day unless one of us was out of state or country. And I can't imagine it any other way. Greg was too good to be true . . . smart, funny, considerate, sweet, cute, hard working, chivalrous, sexy, good to his Mom, respectful, faithful and endlessly kind. I seriously got way more than I deserved. I had a whole list of what I was looking for in a man, and not only was he a perfect fit, but he had a dozen other qualities that turned out to be even more important than anything I'd ever thought to look for before. As we've been married, I've found countless other reasons to love him. He makes me laugh all the time, and he's my best audience, constantly really amused by my latest antecdote (or he's the world's best actor, which is a good quality too.) He's a better father than I ever would have thought to ask for for our girls. They will be so lucky to have such a supportive, smart, encouraging Dad . . . it'll shape who they are, what they learn and how they feel about themselves. Trust me, I know about these things. He's a partner in the truest sense of the word. He is constantly looking for ways to support me, to help me out, to take off any load that adds stress to my life. We are a better match then I would've ever expected, and he is my best friend.

Happy Birthday. Old man. :-)

Love, Hil

Annie Tales

Annie constantly cracks me up . . . but I realize that I record fewer and fewer of these stories. I think it's 'cause as she gets older, they are more accurate and dead on, therefore adorably precocious, but not quite the laughable verbal gaffes of toddlerhood where she was mixing up words, mispronouncing them, or skewing their meaning . . . or just realizing their meaning for the first time, making some big dramatic 'connection'. She still does and says a lot that makes me laugh, makes me proud, and makes me smile at her own unique view of the world she lives in.

After a month or so of refusing to say prayer at bedtime, Annie finally decided it was her turn again. And Annie prayers always end up making me smile. Annie started off normally, thankful for the day, her family, for the fun times we'd had . . . then she started talking about going to Grandma & Grandpa's that evening (while Greg and I set out on an actual date, dinner two days after my birthday and two days before his, we just split the difference and did one big birthday dinner). "Thank you we got to go to Grandma's house. And thank you that I was such a big helper, and helped with my little sister, and was such a good girl. Thank you we got to see thunder. (I was proud that both Greg and I held our tongues and didn't correct that to 'hear', something we'd both been doing all evening as she'd been telling us about her adventures.) Thank you we got to see lightening. Thank you we got to see storm. Thank you that we had dinner with Grandma and with Grandpa. Thank you Mommy and Daddy came home to Annie and we saw outside. Thank you we saw dogs! The little puppy was so cute! Thank you we had so much fun. Um, thank you we went on a walk. Um, thank you we went to Grandmas. Um, well I guess that's the whole story. Amen."

Another Annie story, from this morning.
I had informed our potty training dynamo (who has not had an accident in three days! Even at night!) that she couldn't eat breakfast until she used the potty (making me nervous that we were going on better than 12 hours now since she last used the facilities). She grudgingly agreed, while following me down to our main floor, when she suddenly perked up, "I'll use the bathroom down here!" (Our small half bath on the main floor, by the front door.) "OK, Annie, that's fine."
"We should get a bathtub for this bathroom! Why don't we go to the store to get a tub today?"
Wanting her to kinda think this one through on her own, I mentioned, "We could do that, I guess, but I'm thinking a bathtub might not work in there . . . what do you think?"
After a few seconds, "Oh, I guess that it is a small bathroom."
"Yeah," I said, "I don't think a bathtub would fit in that bathroom."
She nodded, then left me in the kitchen making toast while she headed off to use the potty. A minute later, while in using the bathroom herself, she loudly calls out, "I guess it would have to be a really little one," then added excitedly, "like for my dolls!"

Designer Genes

I came across a picture of Star and I when we were little (just a little younger then Annie and Ellie are now), and then a few more pictures of me as a young kid, and I pulled up a couple pictures from the girls' birthdays last week . . . I think there's some similarities . . .


Ellie's never looked as much like my family as Annie does, but this one picture of Star and this one of Ellie struck me as a little more alike than normal. Star's baldness as a baby is probably what makes them look a little more alike. I was looking at pictures of Greg's only sister Andrea around Ellie's age, and she has a full head of beautiful hair, so it wiped out any other similar features because the hair just makes ALL the difference in the world. My family was nearly bald 'til closing in on two, where as Greg's family were all getting haircuts from just about birth. I'm kinda hoping my next one has hair I can pull up into little ponytails on the top of her head at a few months old . . . if I have a baby in the next year or so, and she gets some of those genes, I could be pulling up her hair before Ellie has enough to do it with! (Notice I just assume I'll have all girls. At this point I can't even imagine a little boy in the mix, so all my planning seems to revolve around all girls.)

My Better Half

I'm just sitting here thinking how much I love that my husband single-handedly takes on all of Annie's bedtime routine . . . even though it is fraught with screaming and kicking and crying and sometimes requires that he put her in a humane headlock to brush her teeth. This 20-60 minutes of the evening is mine. Usually I have to feed, change and get Ellie down during this time too, but typically at least a chunk of that time is mine alone. I get to check email, or do a load of laundry (less fun, but nice to do without an infant underfoot, or a toddler 'helping') or even get another 20 pages into the book I've been making little progress on this week. Can't imagine what I'd do without him.

I also love that even though he had to wake up before sunrise on my birthday to get to work for a 12-13 hour day, he'd set his alarm extra early (like before 5AM), so he'd have time to write me a birthday letter letting me know how much he loves and appreciates me, and have it waiting on the nightstand for me when I woke up hours later.

I love that there's more nights than not where we get to bed ridiculously late because we just couldn't stop talking and laughing, even though we both know we are overly sleep deprived as of late, and could pretty desperately use a good 7 hour stretch of sleep.

I love that he's such an amazing cook and always wants to try and learn new things in the kitchen. I especially love that he gets a craving for Peanut Butter Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies at 9PM and we get to go make them together and eat dough while we stay up late. (He forbid me from cooking any of them though, thus 'ruining his dough'. I cooked up a batch the next day though, on my birthday. They were SO good. I don't listen really well.)

I love that we get to celebrate his birthday this week. The fifth one we'll celebrate together. And then he'll finally be 30 years old too. And can stop cracking all of his 'older woman' jokes. It's tough being four days older. (And yes, for those keeping track, every one of our birthdays are within two and a half weeks of each other . . . it makes it awfully convenient though . . . we can have one big family barbeque a year and we're all covered! And we just have to save a lot of money for Christmas, then we have almost a half a year to save up for all the birthdays, then a good six months or more to save for Christmas again. At least with all of the birthdays all bunched together, they're spaced well from other costly holidays!)

Game Night

I've mentioned that my family loves to get together to play games. So, with it being my birthday and all, several members of my family showed up to play cards. Tonight it was 'Hand and Foot'. It was silly for the rest of us to even try to play the game with my sister Talina there, since it's long been established that she sold her soul to the Hand and Foot devil and hasn't lost a game in so long that none of us can remember such a thing happening.

Tonight it almost looked like her deal with the devil had lapsed though, with Greg and my Dad kicking some major butt for most of the game. In fact, they were within 25 points of winning after the fourth hand (you need 15,000 . . . it's the closest I've ever seen anyone get without winning the game), so we had to play another hand. Which is when Talina's card-foo was whipped out and the stars aligned and she was basically dealt a perfect hand and her and David managed to come back from a 3,000 deficit to win the game. She sucks. (I unfortunately seemed to have made my dark deal for the game "Settlers of Catan", which I have never lost. But, my family rarely plays it, so that amazing winning streak hasn't helped me show off my Settlers superiority with my own family. Talina has a much more useful winning streak in place, as "Hand and Foot" is a family favorite.)

My Mom and I were the third team playing. We lost. Big. A lot. Possibly as much as anyone we've ever seen lose this game . . . and we've been playing it for decades. After the first hand we were a MINUS 215 points. It's shocking how poorly we did. You think with it being my birthday and all, we'd have had some luck, or at least people would've been nicer to us, letting us play through our hand before 'going out' and ending the round before Mom & I had been able to accomplish anything. Every single time. I'm still reeling by the sheer suckyness of our hands, our luck, our play . . . all of it. For anyone who's ever played it . . . my Mom got caught with her foot Every. Single. Hand. That's amazing. I didn't even think it was possible to suck that much. And yet we did.

I think I'm suggesting "Settlers of Catan" for next week's family game night. :-)

Happy Birthday to Me

So, I'm thirty years old today.

(This picture is from two weeks ago at Sea World, but that seemed recent enough.)

I don't feel differently. I don't know what I expected, not that I thought there'd be any dramatic difference or anything, but today feels like any other day. Except that today I turn thirty. And that's pretty cool. I don't mind turning thirty (not that I had a choice or anything), in fact, thirty feels good. Really good. I look at thirty and quickly realize I am happier, healthier and better off than I was at twenty, and that's a pretty cool feeling. I have an amazing husband, two beautiful girls, a great life, a cute home, a lot of new and old friends, surrounded by supportive and loving family, have a community I love to live in, a great ward to be a part of, and I am really, really happy. Happier than I ever have been before. So what's so bad about time moving forward when things just keep getting better?

The one slightly sour note on the day, is that Greg has to work. From like 5:30AM to 6:30PM, so I won't see him much today. As the single most important person in my life, it'd be nice to have him here on my birthday, but it's not a huge deal. I have recently discovered that I'm not really the most sentimental person when it comes to 'days'. Do I want to celebrate my birthday with my husband. Of course. But I don't care if we do that today, next week, next weekend. Whenever. Same with our Anniversary. I'm not someone who really cares about Valentines Day at all; I wouldn't mind going out to celebrate it with my husband, but no way will I go out on the actual 14th, since everything's so crowded. We just celebrated Ellie's first birthday, a pretty big milestone in life, and yet we didn't open presents on her actual birthday, or even the next . . . we just waited 'til she was in a relatively good mood and then did it then. I'm just realizing recently that although it is important to me to celebrate life's events and markers, I just don't really care when I do it. Kinda makes me think back to my Memorial Day post, making me better understand my thoughts on the cemetery thing. I think it comes down to I feel it is vitally important to remember those who aren't with us anymore. To pay homage to those who sacrificed or went on before us. I think cemeteries are sacred ground (probably part of the reason that lawn chairs and picnics there kinda weird me out -- not that I think that's wrong, it's just odd to me), that are due proper respect and even a little reverence. I think our children are better people if they have at least some understanding of where we come from, what makes our family what it is. I think it's important to remember my little sister, the role and standing she has in our family, even if she's not here with us. I think going to her graveside and helping to cut back any over growth, going and getting water and washing off her headstone and placing beautiful new flowers in her vase was an important part of my upbringing. But to me, there's something about an arbitrary day picked when everyone shows up and overcrowds a place I usually find peaceful and private. I think that's just another reason why I'm not a big 'spend the day at the cemetery on Memorial Day' type of person. I do, however, feel that any excuse to get together with family is worthwhile, especially if it so happens to be a three day weekend. Anyway, back to the original point . . . yeah, today is my birthday. It's a relatively big deal, a celebration or marking of the day I was born. But when I celebrate it doesn't so much matter to me. Just that there's a little celebration on my behalf. :-)

Princess Lessons with Annie

Annie's become obsessed with all things Princesses. I don't know why it happens around this age, seemingly without any real effort or influence on the part of anyone else. (She was talking about Cinderella months before she ever saw a single Princess movie). It's almost like sometime during this last year all the girls her age became obsessed with Disney Princesses and all the boys became "Cars" fanatics.

Despite our buying her a beautiful new Princess bed (complete with canopy and new Princess bedding), she used the following excuse for not wanting to go to sleep the other night:
"I can't sleep in there! I don't have a Princess-y enough room!"

So, we did buy some wall vinyl things that have princess-type-stuff on them at the Dollar Store the other day, not that she won't just use a new non-sleeping excuse, but at least her room is a tad more 'princess-y'. Which is apparently vitally important when you're three.

Also, while on our Dollar Store run, we also bought this two pack of tiaras . . . one 'big girl' one, and one baby headband one. Annie loves them . . . I still can't believe it was a dollar for both of these. Here her and Annie are wearing them today:

Annie telling me about how princesses act:

(And she's harder to understand here that normal . . . she's been on a weird 'baby talk' kick. It's mildly obnoxious.)

I think this coming year is the Strawberry Shortcake and High School Musical year. We're looking, um, forward to it, I guess.

Two Little Monkeys . . .

Annie heard Ellie wake up from her nap before I did. By the time I made it to Ellie's room (approximately 30 seconds after Annie), Annie had already climbed up and into Ellie's crib with her. And they were having the time of their lives.

(Annie answers, "I turned on Ellie's thermopeter," in response to my asking what she was doing. A minute later, she looked at it again and laughed and laughed and said, "I meant monitor!")

Annie spent a big chunk of the morning taking pictures while she played. She has pictures of her cleaning her room, playing computer games and of her books she was reading. This was my favorite of her 'self portraits' though.

Unrelated, Annie is now referring to her little sister primarily as, "Ella my Bella." She's said it all day long. It's very cute.

Early to Bed . . .

After a terribly grumpy day (for all involved) that dissolved into a giant pile of tears and screaming Annie was firmly placed in bed around 6:30PM and told we were done for the day. She fell asleep around 7:00PM. Ellie, who'd napped earlier than normal, also was asleep for the night right around 7:00 too. This was all great from the stand point of me being tired, kinda sick and achy, and so very, very done for the day. I was able to get a few things done, spend some time with Greg, veg out a little watching craptacular TV 'cause nothing good is on, and Greg even got to sleep around 10:30. I am far less intelligent though, and stayed up until midnight. Which is right about the time the girls took turns waking up almost every hour on the hour. Good times. Poor Ellie is coughing so hard now, and both have really runny noses. I hate when the girls are sick, especially little Ellie, 'cause I just imagine the soreness and achiness and sore throat and I just feel so bad for them. At least Annie understands that it'll be over in a few days. I always wonder if babies have this feeling of, "Holy crap! What happened to my life!? It's so painful and horrible now . . . I'm so stuffed up I can barely breathe and my chest hurts when I cough, and I feel awful . . . why did life take this dramatic turn for the worse?!" Anyway, they were up a lot last night . . . but I think all in all, with the early bedtime, and sleeping in 'til about 7:30, they both caught up on some sleep. Which was sorely needed. Hopefully today'll go a lot better than yesterday. I need it. Plus, Greg is now working 12 hour days through Saturday (which is my birthday), so he gets home about an hour before they go to sleep. Meaning that I don't get that nice little break around 4:30 that I've gotten so used to. (As my law-school-widow-sister-in-law is probably thinking, "Yeah, that'd be tough, ya whiner." :-) She'd have a point.)

Oh, unrelated, but Annie has come up with her own nickname for Ellie. She calls her "Ella" now. When she's talking to her, it's all, "Hey Ella, let's go play in my room," or "Ella!! ELLA!!! Stop looking at me!" I just think it's cute she's come up with her very own name for her sister. Even if she is yelling it at her half the time.

Oh, and Annie was having a conversation with her My Little Pony Baby this morning at breakfast that went something like this . . . "Yeah, my Mom is amazing. A-mazing. Well, kinda. Well, not really. Maybe she's a little amazing. I don't know if she's amazing or not."

Memorial Day

Memorial Day was always one of my very, very favorite holidays as a kid. For a few reasons. It was a big family reunion, camping out over the weekend, and we got an extra day off school, and it was always right around my birthday. Each year we went up above Coalville, Utah to a place we called "Flat Rock". Thus named 'cause one whole side of the mountain was solid rock. And, um, flat. The whole area had long ago been our family's property. Now, generations later, we came up every Memorial Day weekend and we'd hike up and down that mountain all day. We'd sit on that giant slab of rock and find the fossils and shells preserved in stone, high up in the mountains . . . marveling that at one point it had all been underwater. We'd climb in and out of the 'cougar caves' along the side of it. We played in the creek, each year trying to damn it off with our own little mix of sticks and mud. We, over the years, watched a giant dead cow go from a pile of gross skin and a full skelton, to the year we finally couldn't find a single bone anymore in it's spot. Hey, we were kids, that was cool. We explored the family cemetery that dated back to the early Utah pioneers. We watched Great Aunt Nancy proudly plop herself down on the ground of that cemetery, exclaiming she would be the last person buried there. The only unused plot being hers, next to her first husband who had died decades and decades ago. (This always freaked out her grandchildren, "Grandma, stand up! Stand up!" as she laid there with her eyes closed and her arms crossed across her chest. We just thought she was the coolest old lady we knew.) We trespassed into the field full of someone else's sheep to explore the small dilapidated one room shack that my ancestors had built when first settling the area. We played a big family reunion sized game of softball each year . . . with stuff like, "That big rock over there," or "The dried out cow pie," as bases. All of my Mom's cousins and family came up there. I only saw most of these people once a year. I didn't even remember all their names (and wouldn't recognize most of them if I saw them on the street now,) but I loved playing in that creek with them. Or having our side of the family beat theirs in cow pie softball.
One of my favorite parts growing up, was that I was the 'Memorial Day baby.' The only year my Mom could remember not going there during her lifetime was the year she had me. On May 30th, Memorial Day. From then on, my birthday was celebrated up in those mountains. Cousins removed and seconded and all that knew who I was. I was the birthday girl. My Mom would bring up a giant sheet cake, and everyone would sing to me. I got gifts from people who's names I didn't know. It all added to my already over inflated sense of birthday importance. :-)
It was all very, very cool.
A decade or so ago though, the property was sold, and the new owners would 'prefer' that our family no longer came up to visit. And by prefer, I think they promised that trespassers would be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. And they wanted to put in a helicopter pad. Weanies.
Anyway, that ended our family tradition. And nothing has stepped in to fill it's place. Making Memorial Day a bit sad for me.
Fortunately, Greg's family does have a tradition or two in place. The last few years we've gone down to Spring Lake, in Payson to celebrate the holiday with Greg's maternal grandmother's side of the family. There's fried chicken to eat, green hills to roll down, and ducks to feed in a small lake/big pond. And all of this follows heading out to a couple different cemeteries to place flowers on the graves of the dearly departed. I like that my kids will have some sense of 'tradition' on this holiday. It's good too that they get that whole 'cemetery' thing with the family, 'cause I know I wouldn't be good at that on my own. I have no problem going to the cemetery, taking flowers on birthdays or days with special meaning. Trips to my little sisters grave on her birthday or Christmas were important to me growing up. Even more so were the times we went randomly, to cut away any overgrowth, and wash off the stone. But I have to admit though, I'm not a 'Memorial Day' cemetery person. The cemeteries are ridiculously crowded . . . and the crazy traffic trying to weave in and out on small, old roads in small town cemeteries kinda stresses me out. I'm also, admittedly, a little weirded out by the lawn chairs and picnic lunches I see around. I see that and I think, "Um, they're not there anymore. I'm sure they rather you go somewhere in the shade or something to remember them." I have a theory that if I was dead, I wouldn't want my family to come hang out at my grave side to remember me. There's other places I believe should mean more to them, more to me. If I was dead, and got to come 'hang out' around my family for the day (assuming 'Memorial Day' is some kinda 'free pass' day for the dead to come back and visit . . . I'm making this all up in my head as I go), I would rather they go to the zoo, or to Lake Powell or something. Who wants to hang out at their own graveside all day? That'd be kinda depressing, like, "Yeah, there's my body . . . right under there . . . seriously, can't we head out to Chuck E Cheese's or something and go have fun . . . " Of course, it's people like me who necessitate lectures like my sister Talina's ward got about "Young people these days not showing the proper respect for the holiday." So, what about you guys . . . what do you do on Memorial Day? Are cemeteries a big part of that? And if yes, what exactly do you do?
Anyway, Monday was a lot of fun, although Annie was crazily grumpy and Ellie (who usually takes a nap around 9:30 in the morning did not fall asleep until THREE FORTY FIVE in the AFTERNOON!) was tired, but surprisingly well behaved. Annie though . . . her grandpa made the observation, "I'm thinking that if I was to give Annie a brand new real live pony right now, she still wouldn't be happy." So true. She was pissy. We had her friend Kian with us too, and fortunately, he was a super happy the whole time (which was amazing if you consider he's under three years old, and was away from his parents the entire day, in weird places with random people he didn't really know, with a LOT of time spent in a car). When Annie wasn't being difficult though, she did have fun playing outside with Kian and the other kids there. The highlights were feeding the ducks (who were so overfed that they did not care about the bread . . . that did kinda annoy Annie and Kian), rolling in the grass, and playing with the dogs that were there.

Here's Greg and Annie watching the ducks on Spring Lake.

Annie and Kian sharing bread for the ducks.

Annie giving Kian a big ol' hug . . . he looks so resistant here, which is funny, 'cause usually both of them are quite cuddly with one another!

Greg & Ellie (who didn't get to spend too much time out in the sun, 'cause she refused to keep her hat on.)

Aunt Andrea, Annie, Greg and Ellie. Annie was having fun playing with the bell on Andrea's bike, and I liked her little 'shy' pose here . . .

Annie & Kian watching the ducks.

Kian rolling down the hill.

Annie rolling. She was doing pretty good with it, but both her and Kian would start rolling 'across' the hill, instead of down . . . which is significantly more work and funnier to watch!
Annie and Kian loved playing with the dogs there. They're pretty happy to have little Jill here with them.

More posing with Jill.

Ellie was a really big fan of the dogs too . . . she just kept reaching out for them and yelling in their general direction!

It was a long day, and all three kids did finally crash on the drive home.

And then I dominated the entire drive home at the 'Alphabet Game'. (Greg will argue this, claiming he won all three times we played . . . but I say he cheated . . . I was handing Annie a drink of water when he saw that Suzuki sign and claimed his 'Z'; and overall I just felt I played better. Sure he was the driver, putting him at a slight disadvantage, and he finished first all three games . . . but it's not so much in the destination as in the journey, and I felt my overall play and technique were superior. Or something. I'm just better at it!!)