Our (Sort Of) Merry Christmas

Just know that I could totally sugarcoat everything that happened on Christmas.  They slept in.  They were happy.  They said thank you for everything.  They took good naps.  And then they behaved at church.  But really, none of those things happened. 

So here we go.

Christmas Eve.  They were ridiculously excited (as they should be) and got to open two gifts each: jammies and pillow pets.  We put them in bed and Skyler passed out while Lily was heard banging around in the nursery.  I went upstairs an hour and a half after their bedtime to find her wide awake.  She said she was too excited and couldn't fall asleep.  She asked me to lie down with her for a little while.  So I did.  Eventually she drifted off.  Maybe we should carry on my parents' tradition of drugging the kids with Benedryl on Christmas Eve. 

Christmas morning, Skyler woke up from a nightmare at 3:30, which woke Lily up (they share a room at Nanni and Papa's) and she couldn't go back to sleep because she was so excited about Christmas.  Ben (gallantly) kept both of them quiet and calm until 6 when he finally woke us all up and we went downstairs. 

And Santa came!!!!

 Santa must have known that Lily has been talking about Belle for months even though she's never really seen Beauty and the Beast.  The Disney princess dolls and her doll bed were a hit.

Like last year, Skyler became so overwhelmed with all of his new toys that he almost broke down.  So he gave up on opening presents halfway through and wanted to pull out his old toys.  Luckilly, Santa brought an expansion pack for his  already existing toy trains.  Skyler was easilly comforted once he got playing with them.

Grandmum and Pop Pop sent some toy horses, which were a hit.

And even though all of us adults were totally weirded out by it, we did get a birthday cake for Jesus.  So. Weird.  BUT... the kids really loved it and it totally clicked in their minds that Christmas is when we celebrate Christ's birth.  We just probably won't do it again....

And since I'm pregnant and craving all sorts of oddities, my parents were sweet enough to give up the traditional Christmas feast and grilled steak for us all instead.  It was magnifico.  Ben and I think we might do it every year.  Seriously.  Or maybe my pregnant mind is just too in love with beef right now.

After a loooooong day of comforting exhausted children, it was nice to say that Christmas was over.  When I put Lily in bed that night she asked, "Santa's coming again tonight, right?"  Ummm... that would be a negative. 

So even though it was a bit of a rough day, the kids came home with plenty of exciting new things and they have been the happiest kids since.  And that has made it all worth it.  Except for when Skyler pulls out his brand new doctor kit and shoves a thermometer in my mouth that is covered in cold saliva.  Yum-o.

*Ahem* We Have News

So I'm getting fat.

It’s not that I have been eating too many servings of Bojangles.

Or chowing down one grilled cheese after another.

Or chugging 34287.39 million cups of water per day.

Or, at least, it’s not completely because of those things.

Because there is also a .04 ounce fetus in there.  I’m pretty sure that he/she is doing most of the stuffing. 

And this is just the beginning.

As in, we’re only 8 weeks into a 40 week roller coaster. 

I’ll do the math for you.  July 31^st.  Harry Potter’s B-Day.

Or more importantly, you can remember this:

June 24^th – Lily

July 3^rd – Ben

July 8^th – Heather

July 30^th – Skyler

July 31^st – Baby #3.

I’m pretty sure I’m only fertile one month a year.

Nevertheless, we are thrilled! 

So here’s the story, and I’m going way, WAY, back.  When I was pregnant with Skyler, his bloodstream got into mine and we have different blood types.  I literally had two different types of blood running through me when I was about 6 or 7 weeks along with him.  I was sicker than a dog.  I spent the rest of my pregnancy trying to fix everything, and though doctors were pretty hopeful that everything was pretty much fixed, they did tell me that there was still the possibility of this making me infertile.  As in, I’d be able to get pregnant, but I’d keep having miscarriages or stillbirths.  Basically, my baby could die anytime up to 40 weeks.  So most people wait to announce their pregnancies until they’re out of risky first trimester.  The problem for me is that my entire pregnancy will be risky and I won’t know that this baby is permanently mine until I’m holding him/her in my arms.  So, since I’m showing, I figured, why not announce it.  There won’t be an ideal safe time to do it and we’re pretty excited, too.

So hold on Baby #3.  I want you to stay.  Even if it means that I have to bribe you.  But if it comes to that, I really am willing to make the sacrifice of eating more Bojangles and chocolate ice cream.  What can I say?  I love you that much.

Pictures to come.

Goobers and Hugs

Last night, before Ben and I were heading off to bed, we checked on the kiddos as we do every night.  There's just something so sweet about seeing children sleeping.  I don't know if it's because I get to see Lily's legs still for the first time of the day or if it's how Skyler keeps a mountain of stuffed animals on top of him, but I just melt whenever I see them. 

So we walked into Lily's room.  Ben kneels down next to her bed and sticks his face right next to Lily's.  I sit on her bed by her legs and bend over to see her better.  It's really sweet in person, though if Lily were to suddenly wake up I'm sure it would freak the mess out of her.... well, sometimes she does wake up, but barely.  Last night was one such night.  She groggily smiled at us and turned onto her side. 

Then she started sniffing.

(Now, this girl sleeps through night with zero bathroom problems, but if she has the tiniest runny nose you might as well turn on the fire alarm, wake up the entire house, and run frantically around searching for tissues.)

So, back to the story.  She started sniffing.

Ben and I looked at each other and asked, "Do you want us to get you a tissue?"

She rolled back over and looked at us and smiled.  "No."  She wiped her palm against her nose, rubbed her hands together, and wiped them off on my dangling hair.

It's a good thing I broke my vow to never shower again.  Add the term "Human Tissue" to the roles that I play as a mother.

And since Skyler wanted me to take his picture, too, I guess I'll let you indulge in his cuteness.

Yesterday I witnessed a really sweet moment.  I was waiting for the kids in the Primary room to be picked up by their parents, but was able to pick up Skyler from nursery.  Ben brought Lily in a little later and I heard Skyler yell, "Lily!  You're here!  I missed you!"  And they ran into each other with a full hug. 

I'm pretty sure all of this is worth getting snot in my hair.

Who Are YOU?

Okay, y'all.  Confession time.  Umm... this involves you, too.  Have you ever blog stalked somebody?  Probably.  But here's the real question: Have you ever read a blog written by someone you don't know?  This is the part when I sheepishly raise my hand.  I can't help it, people.  Some of y'all (or probably not y'all, because they most likely don't read my blog, too) have fantastic blogs.  It's like watching reality tv without commercial breaks, theme music, and a really lame ending.

So.... here's the point I'm getting at.  I check my blog's stats every now and then.  You know, I'm just a curious person and what not.  And wait a second..... who are you people???  Not to be rude, I mean, I think it's cool that someone actually finds me interesting (it must be the vaseline, pictures of my adorable kids, or the myriad of Heather Moments I'm not ashamed to post), but seriously?  I'm just that average girl with that average blog.  That's it.

Then my next question was this:  If y'all are coming from Ukraine, Russia, Britain, Venezuela, Australia, Hong Kong, etc, how in the world do you even understand me?  I'm not doubting your ability to speak English.  I'm doubting your ability to speak "Heather" aka Southern/movie quotes/improper use of upper cased letters/sarcasm/too much punctuation per sentence/the occassional footnote language that is spoken verbally exactly as it would appear in writing (except, perhaps, that the word "y'all" is not pronounced "y'all."  It's pronounced "yaww" with a silent "L" at the end.  Okay, wanted to clarify that for a while now.  You can now officially pronounce it the correct way in your minds as you read my blog.)  Sometimes I wonder if anyone besides Ben and my immediate family even have a clue as to what I'm saying...

Moving on. 

So welcome all y'all.  I think it's pretty cool that you're visiting.  And if you leave a comment telling me where you live I'll return the favor.  You know.  If you've got guts and all that.

Melting

These two melt me.  *Ahem* When they're not smearing things on the walls as they did once again yesterday.  One of them had better end up being a world famous artist, otherwise it won't be worth it to see toddler handprints everywhere.

Yesterday Lily asked to wear one of her princess dresses.  After getting dressed and twirling around in self-awe she exclaimed, "Now I look like a mother!"  I'm so glad she thinks that my daily jammies/sweats, messy bun, and makeup-less face put me up there with Cinderella and Belle.

Whenever I hold Skyler he tucks his head into my neck and I rub his back.  Now he has started rubbing my back, too.  Whenever he gets a boo boo he asks me to kiss it and when I do he tells me I've missed.  And again.  And again.  Until about 20 kisses later and he's giggling his little head off.

I can't tell you how much fun it has been to see them learn about Christmas.  I don't even know how many times we've watched The Polar Express, Elf, Frosty the Snowman, The Grinch, etc...  They have a difficult time remembering the word "reindeer" so whenever they see Santa's sleigh they yell, "THE MOOSES!!!!"

When I've talked to them about the true meaning of Christmas, they get really excited because birthdays are basically the best days of the year.  I'm pretty sure they're expecting a birthday cake for Jesus on Christmas.  We might have to make that happen to lessen their confusion.

P.S.  I've showered.  You don't need to pity Ben anymore.

Why BYU-Idaho Is The Best School On Earth

Oh. Y'all.
I am really worked up about something today. So much so that my Southern accent is flaring up inside my head. I know something is either really bad or really good when things start getting Southern in there. This time around, it's the former.
So watch out. I'm about to step onto my soap box.

I found out something new about BYU-Idaho this week: they are banning skinny jeans. Okay y'all, breathe in, breathe out. Do you need me to call you a fashion paramedic? Are you going to survive? How on Earth are your legs going to breathe without all that tight denim?!?!?!

On Facebook I saw a few too many accusers of this new idea. And do you want to know the funny part? None of them went to BYU-Idaho. Hmmm.... wonder why it bothers them so much? Maybe they should actually ask the kids who go there how they feel. My guess is that a whole bunch of girls are going to do what they do with their shorts and flip-flops. They won't wear them. Or at least they won't wear them on campus.  No biggie.

Okay, for real, y'all, you don't mess with my BYU-Idaho. That's when my (oh-so-literal) Z-Snap comes out. When they enforce a rule, you obey it. PERIOD.  Let me tell you my side of the story of when I went to BYU-Idaho: I followed the dress code and I survived.  If anything, it helped me from getting frostbitten toes and legs.  Also, it made me get out of my jammies when I probably would have worn them to class had I gone anywhere else (if you need proof feel free to contact any of my high school teachers.  I wore them on a biweekly basis).  These University people know what they're talking about.

But in all seriousness, why would they create a rule like this?  Obviously there is a reason behind it.  Perhaps it has to do with the fact that they care about modesty.  Perhaps it is the fact that they care about their students looking professional instead of like partied-up punks.  So if that's not the idea you had in mind for college, don't go there or transfer*.  You're not losing your agency. 

So in my not-so-humble opinion, BYU-Idaho is the best school on Earth.  This is not an invitation for you to smack down my school in the comments section.  It will be deleted ASAP.  Dead serious. 

So here's my shout out to BYU-Idaho, the one school on Earth that actually improves its standards in time instead of giving way to those who complain about how much comfier sweats are, or how flip flops are so much comfier than closed toed shoes.  I wish I could fly out to Rexburg right now in my oversized coat and give the Kimball Building one huge hug.  You guys in there rock.

*And as a side note, who would want to leave Rexburg when you've got Big Jud's, huckleberries, Stockmans, a 1.5 hour drive to Yellowstone, a healthy dose of snow, a safe Wal-Mart to pass out in, and a friend working at every restaurant in town with a discount?

My Vow to Never Shower Again

Pretty bad things sometimes happen when I shower.  I accidentally shaved off inches of my hair once, making my layers uneven.  I found out about 9/11.  I threw up once.  My kids often get into things they're not supposed to (Vaseline, etc.)

Well, yesterday, something else happened that made me vow to myself that I will never shower again.  I did the usual: turn on a movie, close baby gate to the stairs, go upstairs, and shower.  They're usually okay when I do this. 

I showered.  When I was done and I started drying myself off I heard a sound from the back yard.  A little freaked out that someone was in our back yard while my kids were just a sliding glass door away, I wrapped myself in my towel and peaked out the window.

These were no strangers.  It was Lily and Skyler, running around the back yard by themselves!  As if that wasn't enough to freak me out, they had also taken off all their clothes save their diaper and panties.  I put on the closest clothes to me (Ben's) and ran downstairs and made them come inside.  They were so upset.  I'm pretty sure that was the epitome of freedom to them. 

All I can say is thank goodness some creeper wasn't around.  Who knows how long they were running around in the (almost) nude outside in our unfenced back yard.  Needless to say we are already planning on investing in better baby proofing items.

So I'm never showering again.  Ever.  Sorry, Ben.  Hope you don't mind having a smelly wife for the rest of your life.

And as proof that my children REALLY DO do weird things, here are two pictures for you:

1.  We were having Thanksgiving leftovers at my parents' house and Lily basically told us that everything looked disgusting.  But since she alone was in charge of spooning the green olives into a bowl, she decided she'd eat those instead.  And these were the biggest green olives I've ever seen.  And she ate a bowl full of them.  I mean, I'm all about green olives, but a whole bowl?  Weird child.



2.  I told the kids one day that if they ate all their lunch I would make them hot chocolate.  Lily ate hers, so I made her hot chocolate, as promised.  Skyler refused to eat.  Upset that I refused to make him hot chocolate, he went into the pantry, pulled out a packet of of Swiss Miss, and bit into the paper and sucked out the powder in rebellion.  Bleh.

Are they really related to me?  They don't even really look like me.

THE Parade

A few months ago our ward played its own version of dominos.

As in the Relief Society, Young Women, and Primary presidencies were all released at the same time.

I was then released as a teacher and called as Primary 1st Counselor.

My first responsibility?

The Garner Christmas Parade.

Oh. You know.  Nothing huge.

Aren't they so dang cute???

I'll be honest.  I adore the kids in the Garner ward.  And I'm not even sure it has to do with the calling. 

You see, I've been in Primary ever since I got married.  4.5 years roughly.  In multiple wards.

These ones are the most reverent kids I've ever seen.  *Ahem* Most of the time.

But I'm glad it's over.

Phew.