Survivor

Ken's Corn Maze, Garner, NC

My parents bought a Groupon to go to a corn maze in Garner.  Here is the recipe for our adventurous concoction:

6 Acres

2 Toddlers, 2 Parents, 2 Grandparents

100% humidity

Lots of confused parents trying to keep up with their kids who move at cheetah-like speeds.

To put it simply, it felt like Survivor-North Carolina.  Except I wasn't blindfolded or losing a mind blowing amount of weight or wondering if I could trust the people I was playing with.  I actually enjoyed it, even when I had to hold Lily in the end (I simply told myself that I was probably burning twice the calories, which made it all worth it).  When we came out they handed us coupons to get free food at Chick-Fil-A.  Umm... yes please!  It was a blast.

(I'll add other pictures later.  My computer doesn't feel like uploading the rest right now).

Our other adventure last week.... well.... wasn't so awesome.  Let's just say that the word, "Rock," is in our street name and they're not kidding.  I could probably build each of y'all a really ugly granite counter top with how much we have in our back yard.  Then the other day we were playing in the back yard, having fun, when Skyler picked up a rock, contemplated something as he stared at it in his little hand, looked at Lily, then threw it at her in between the eyes.  And we're not talking about some pebble.  This was a rock the size of my fist.  Lily cried for about 30 seconds and then kept playing because she's the toughest cookie on the planet.  Her nose, however, turned blue and got really swollen around a tiny dent where the rock hit.  Her doctor had me bring her in because they were sure it was broken.  Luckily, it wasn't, and her nose is back to normal now that it's been a week.  I mean, seriously!  What the heck?!  Skyler wasn't even mad.  He had this look of, "I wonder what would happen if I...."

Blah.

I'm pretty sure that parenthood is the real game of Survivor.

Except the prize is worth a lot more.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

The other day, right after Ben left for work, Skyler had finished *almost* all of his cereal when he decided to wear his bowl hat-style.  You can barely see it up there.  Anyhoo, he smiled for this picture and then scrunched up his face, worried, and said, "WET! WET!"  I just smiled and tried to take off the bowl, but he looked at me like I was crazy.  Then he pointed to this itty-bitty dot of milk on his hand and yelled, "WET!"  Crazy child is more worried about a drop than 1/4 C. of milk on his head.

Milestones

When I buy clothes for Lily now, I have to go to the girls' section.  Not infant/toddler.  Girls. AAAAAAA!!!!  I am sooo bad at milestones with our kids.  I hate their birthdays more than any other day of the year (for the billionth time, hand me the mother of the year award....) except, perhaps, Boxing Day, because that means I have to wait 365 more days until Christmas.  OK... I'm rambling. 

Skyler can now count to 10.  He used to only count like this: 3,2,3,2,3!!!!  And we'd clap like he'd just won Price is Right.  But the other day he was playing in the tub and counted to 10* as if he'd been doing it his whole life.

*When I say he counted to 10 I actually mean that he counted from 2-10.  He still doesn't get the whole, you-always-start-with-1 thing.  It must be genetic.  Lily did it, too.

Out of the Mouths of Babes, aka Lily

As much as I hate them growing, I also adore their increased understanding.  I love knowing that my kids can understand me and I can understand them (i.e. the yellow fluffy monster that lives on Lily's bed and says, "Roar" to her each day).  But it's not just the everyday conversations that make me happy, it's the spiritual little bits of input that Lily often adds to ordinary conversations.

One Sunday night we had just finished dinner but were still sitting at the table when Ben asked the kids what they had learned in nursery.  Lily started talking about Jesus and then pointed up and said, "That light is like Jesus.  Jesus is bright." 

The other day when my mom came over to visit, I was telling her about how Ben and I really wanted to go to the mountains this fall.  Lily perked right up and said, "I want to go to the mountains, too!"  I was pretty sure she wouldn't remember any mountains from when we lived out West so I asked, "Do you know what a mountain is?"  and she said, "It's a temple," and she pointed to the picture of the Salt Lake temple over our fireplace. 

It never ceases to amaze me what she says, especially when I've never even come close to mentioning things like how Jesus is bright or how mountains and temples are one in the same.  Becoming a mother has forced me to look at the world in reverse views.  When I was younger, everything came from my perspective, but now my thoughts come from Lily and Skyler's perspective or Heavenly Father's.  I'm so grateful that I get to be a mother.  It really is a blessed calling.



Girliness

Can I tell you how much I love having a girl?  Umm... a lot.  I am a total girl. Lily's a total girl. It just works.  I could probably go bankrupt buying kid clothes if I had no self control.  And even though Lily won't let me anywhere near her with anything that plugs into a wall (blow dryer, curling iron, blender.... just kidding..... except not really... she hates the blender, too) she will let me put foam curlers in her hair.  Too bad you can't see them in this pic.

My other new favorite thing?  Toddler skinny jeans.  Oh. My. Gosh.  I kind of gushed over her the entire first day she wore them. 

Is it completely ridiculous that I look at the girls in my CTR 4 class and at the Sunbeams and think, "I would totally wear that" or "I would do my hair that way, too?"  Maybe I am young.  One of the boys in my class used to call me "Sister Macbeth" and he would call Ben "Sister Macbeth's dad."  Maybe he just thinks Ben looks old..... yeah, that's gotta be it. (Just kidding, Hubby!)

So as for the blog address change.  Umm... yeah.  It didn't happen.  I changed my mind.  Skyler, just know that I really do love you as much as the rest of the family. 

And speaking of Skyler, he still has hives.  And after a little chat with our doctor I learned that they only expected him to have hives for 2 weeks, but really they can last up to 6.  !!!!!!!!!!!!  Poor, poor, poor Captain Handsome Pants.  Well, I should look on the bright side and think that at least he already has 3 1/2 weeks down.  At least he takes killer naps now that he's Benedryl-ed up constantly. 

"Heather Moments"

So I had another Heather Moment today.  Ugh.

What's that you say?  You don't know what a Heather Moment is?  Oh, well then, by all means, let me tell you. 

Back when I was a sophomore in high school my doctor (and bishop of a neighboring ward) thought I had Mono, which means a definite blood test.  It was my first time having blood work done.  They pricked my finger, and when I say "pricked" I actually mean they couldn't get any blood out with one of those official finger pricker/blood tubey collector thingies (I probably should have gotten my degree in something medical now that I see how impressive my extensive vocabulary is).  So they had to get a blade and slice it.  Who would ever guess that so many nerves can fit into such a tight little spot on your body?  I sure didn't.  That's when I started feeling, well, not so good.  The nurse in the lab looked at me and asked, "Are you going to pass out or are you going to throw up?"  I really was too sick to know and I said, "Both."  So she rolled one of those huge circular trash cans (you know, the ones at school) so I could throw up in it.  And that's when I passed out into it.

THAT'S a Heather Moment.

Need another example?  Okidoke.

A few months ago before my 23rd bday I was hanging with some girlfriends doing crafts.  I started making fun of myself and how young I am, because I seriously don't feel 23 to me (I can't wait to be, say, 50).  Anyhoo, as I was getting ready to leave I tried opening their front door.  They had a different childproof doorknob cover than me and I couldn't figure it out.  I probably tried turning it for a whole minute before I had to go ask for help.  That's when my friend, Rachel's, husband said, "Oh don't worry about it.  It's ages 23 and up."

It was another prime example of a Heather Moment.

So what did I do today that was so Heather-ish? 

It started with our ward's produce co-op.  A few women in our ward go to the farmers' market every week and buy a ridiculous amount of food for the money.  My favorite part about it is that I never know what food we're going to end up with.  It's like a birthday present every week.  So this week we got a ridiculously awesomely huge supply of Serrano peppers.  I knew there was no way we'd be able to eat that many in the near future so I googled how to freeze them.  The process is simple: Step 1: Deseed.  Step 2: Freeze.  Easy enough.  There was one warning: wear plastic gloves or get burned. 

WHAT?????

Come on people, I have had two children.  I'm not scared of a little green pepper burn.  Puh-lease.  Besides I didn't have any gloves and I wanted to deseed them while the kids were content on their own.

FAIL:  I deseeded peppers for 2 hours.

THE RESULT?  Well let's just say that it's 3 AM and my hand is in a huge bowl of ice water.... 12 hours later.  I am typing this entry with my right/non-handicapped hand (it's getting buffer with each word).  There won't be any sleeping for me tonight, not unless my hand decides to pull itself out of this imaginary deep fryer it's stuck in.  I did try sleeping but it went something like this:

• Put hand in bowl of ice water.
• 3 seconds later take it out because the cold hurts.
• Drift off.
• 3 seconds later OOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!!  IT BURNS!!!!!
• Stick hand back in bowl.
• Repeat.

I have also googled how to treat this burn and have tried basically everything but drink a cup of water from the other side of the glass.  So my left hand will officially be on vacation for the next little while. 

Peppers: 1
Heather: 0

PG-13

Goodness gracious.  I feel like our lives (and a good portion of this blog) have just been a roller coaster of blah for the last while (thank you Curious George for teaching me to speak so eloquently.  Ah, PBS, you never let us down!)

So despite the hives (which Skyler still has by the way), the hospital visits, the strep, the infections, the fevers, and the time that Skyler thought he had somehow misplaced his ball in my bra, things are actually looking quite a bit better. 

I have a "gift."  And no, I'm not talking about how I break plastic accidentally all the time. Or how I accidentally shaved off 4 inches of a chunk of my hair when I was shaving my legs in the shower today.  Don't ask. I'm just great at jinxing myself.  When Ben's parents were here I said the dumbest words ever: "I just feel like we've been so blessed that I'm just waiting for life to get rough again."  HAAAAAHAAAAHaHaha... ha....ha... hmmm...... yeah.... that was dumb. 

But life goes on and I started doing something new.  I'm keeping a gratitude journal.  Yep, you've probably done one, too, at some point in your life.  But instead of just thinking about things to be grateful for, every night I pray to know what I have to be thankful for for that particular day, and it's clear that the Lord really does shower down blessings that come in the form of tender mercies.  Oh how thankful I am not to be abandoned in these trying times!  So tomorrow when I (more likely than not) break the mayo jar again, I will just count my blessings that it was plastic and not glass.

And of course there are the little tidbits that make me smile each day.  Like last Sunday at church, Lily told me she had to go to the bathroom but once she was sitting on the toilet nothing came.  She looked at me with genuine fear and said, "Mommy, my bum is broken!"  I assured her that her bum was fine and we switched places on the potty.  She held onto my knees and said, "Don't worry.  I've got you."  It's nice to know I've got a daughter who doesn't want me to fall into the toilet.  And it doesn't get much better than that.

P.S.  I just realized that within these few paragraphs I talked about experiences with my bra, shower, and going to the bathroom.  Maybe this post should be rated PG-13. 

NEW BLOG ADDRESS

In one week I'm going to switch our blog address to heathermacbeth.blogspot.com.  Our URL has always bugged me because it has everyone in it but Skyler.  So I'm changing it to keep it simple and fair.  Benheatherandlily.blogspot.com won't exist then so please remember to save these changes on your computer if you want to continue to read our blog.

Thanks!
Heather

Hives

There are 4 types of pain that I think deal with motherhood:

1. The pain involved in pregnancy and delivery.
2. The pain involved in watching your children make wrong choices, but allowing them to do so.
3. The pain involved in watching yourself make wrong choices in front of your children.
4. The pain involved in watching your children go through their own pain and not being able to take on their burdens yourself.

The last 8 days have been a horrible example of #4.

Monday was the first day that Skyler was covered in hives. They gave him Benedryl as soon as we walked in to the doctors' office and they started doing tests on him.  I kept thinking this must have been an allergic reaction to some food or even to the antibiotic the hospital had given him 2 weeks before.  Nope.  Apparently, he was having an allergic reaction to a viral infection.  Whatever the heck that means.  I was informed that 90% of the time when someone breaks out into hives it's because of a viral infection.  Weird.

They gave me a list of symptoms I needed to frequently check in case he needed to go to the ER.  2 days later his lips started swelling up and cracking -- one of the "ER" symptoms.  So into the ER we went and lo and behold he had developed a 2nd blistery rash called a "target lesion." The ER dismissed us with the unhappy news: "He'll have hives for 2 weeks."

I'm not exaggerating when I say that Skyler has had hives on every inch of his body.  His eyes have been swollen shut.  His hands have looked like blown up latex gloves.  He had hives covering the soles of his feet so he couldn't walk on them.  He has scratched himself to the point where he is covered in blood and bruises.  There's a reason why I haven't taken a picture of him.  I don't want to remember this.

I can't remember which day it was when I had to flip on a movie for the kids so I could go upstairs and cry harder than I've cried in years.  I poured my heart out to Heavenly Father and asked for any comfort or aid that could be given.  Immediately I felt peace and the next day Skyler's hives became much less. 

The Little Handsome still has them.  Each day looks a little better than the day before and hopefully they should be gone by the end of the week.  Even though his little voice is so sweet, I will welcome the day when I never have to hear these words again: "I'm so EEEEE-CHEE Mommy!"