Three Years Ago Today. . .

When Joel called me up for the first time to ask me on a date, I had to look him up in the ward directory. I didn't remember who he was, what he looked like, or even that he had already been to my apartment several times.

He certainly knew who I was. He had me pegged since one of the first BYU singles ward prayers as someone he wanted to get to know better. Get to know me better he did--and quickly. He took his three roommates with him to visit my apartment, then quietly and observantly stood against the wall, mute and quite invisible. I was the subject of a study I didn't know I had signed up for.

He and his roommate were in the Sunday School presidency, so when they decided to call me as a gospel doctrine teacher it provided them with the perfect excuse to return late one night and get my phone number. The trouble is, he sent his roommate to do it. The trouble is, this was a friendly roommate. The trouble is, then, that I wasn't sure who was the interested party. All I knew was that a guy had come late at night with a lame excuse to get my phone number, and I didn't see a good reason to say no.

But thank goodness for this roommate, who, after many times of returning with Joel to visit my apartment--armed with excuses such as "We wanted more cookies!"--finally took it upon himself to make sure Joel would do the deed and call me. Dialing my number on his own cell phone, he pressed send and handed it to a nervously wavering Joel, who was sitting on their couch.

I said yes.

Twice, actually, which means that the second time I said it (six weeks later, just before Thanksgiving), it came with a shiny ring and a box full of anticipation. We moved up our marriage date from a time in May that felt eons away and got married just after Christmas.

We have never looked back, and we have never been happier.

Now, in case you aren't nauseated enough, here is our song. We picked it because we had a running joke during our courtship that I could always tell what level of feeling Joel had for me by looking in his eyes (hence the opening line of the song: "look into my eyes, you will see what you mean to me").

Everything I do (I do it for you) by Bryan Adams
(yes, I know this is a cheesy song that probably everyone designated as theirs in the early nineties. But we didn't know each other then, so sue me)



(Ignore the cheesy Robin Hood: Men in Tights clips)

BUT, we actually have another unofficial song. This song, You are the Woman by Firefall, is one Joel would sing along to in the car every time we heard it on the radio. Over the years it has kind of become our song as well. Every time I heard the lyrics, it reminds me of exactly what would be Joel's point of view when we were dating.

In case you're feeling in a musical mood, and because I'm on a roll with the video embedding, here is this one as well:

Where to start?

I know I've already established the fact that I have been a slacker lately, but I am grossly overdue on a few key posts:

Our New York trip

Christmas

Our Anniversary

So, which one should I start with? I know you're all dying to hear everything we ate and saw, the pictures we took, and exactly how many times we breathed in New York, but how about a post about Christmas since it currently seems to be the hot topic? Good? Good. (Although it's not like you really have a choice, but I probably shouldn't point that out.)

CHRISTMAS

. . . was great. I found a fantastic train track set (think Thomas the Tank Engine but without the table) on Craigslist. It came complete with several engines and many (train)cars, little trees, road signs, houses, animals and people to build a little village with. Oh, and lots of bridges. Those are a must. It was a last-minute decision to get this and give it to Everett, but I am glad we did. (Does it count as "going green" when you are buying used items?)

I think Joel was, too. He kept saying "This is awesome, Elise" the entire time we were setting it up Christmas Eve night.

Here he is, proud of his handiwork. For the record, I helped too. And so did my brother. (Mack, are you happy now?) Somehow the picture makes the whole system look smaller than it really was. . .

After Everett saw the train track he didn't really want to open anything else for a while, which is saying something because since we've been getting a lot of packages lately he has really learned to love opening presents.

And. . .

This is Everett with a dual spiral racing track toy for his cars. You can use a lever mechanism to tip both cars onto the track at the same time (complete with sound effects!) or do it manually. This toy, from my parents, was also a huge hit. Good job, you two!

We didn't really get Ashley anything. Maybe this means we are miserly old (young?) scrooges, but since she is too young to really enjoy it we didn't worry about her. We'll get things for her as she needs them, and she is all set for toys.

Let's see, what else? Well, I was pretty proud of our Christmas stockings. I worked long and hard on them, which is something I've been meaning to do since just after our marriage when Joel asked me to make our family stockings. It took me a while to come up with the design concept and find the materials to put them together, but I think they turned out pretty well. I just hope Joel was happy with them. Here's a picture of how they looked:

Pretty neat, huh? I was going for something original. Do you think I was successful?

Ok, ok. Just kidding.

Oh, well, actually I mean I'm kidding about making them. We did use plastic grocery bags (except for Everett, who got a fabric bag--but not stocking-shaped).
Oh, stop. We still had Christmas! And it wasn't because I wanted to be unique, it was because apparently I forgot to put our stockings in the car on the way up to my parent's house, and making an hour round trip to retrieve stockings that no one would really miss didn't sound appealing to me. Oh, stop. I'll get it right next year!

Joel and I got each other our New York trip. That was present enough to last me for a long time. I also told him that I wanted a love letter, and I got it! It's a little difficult sometimes to get these accounting/engineer type people to be mushy, so even though the (long) first paragraph of the letter was talking about how he's writing this letter for me but that he didn't really know why because he sees me and talks to me every day, and that he didn't really have anything else to say, he started to get into it after a while. I'm thinking of making this a tradition. . .reading love letters to each other Christmas Eve night seems like a neat thing to do (that is, unless we are too wiped out from setting up all the kids' toys in a few years).

It was a great Christmas. I enjoyed every minute of it and I enjoyed making some of the presents I gave away. It is fun that we are starting to get into the stage where we set up the Santa toys on Christmas Eve, but I can only say that because we only had to do one this year. We'll see if I change my tune anytime soon.

And, although this post was much too long, I will still have to post about New York and our anniversary. Don't bite all your fingernails off in anticipation, now!

Slacker, Whiny, Rested

This post comes in three parts. Firstly:

I am a slacker. Has anyone noticed the lack of Christmas cards coming their way from our house? I could tell you a huge story about how I mis-addressed every single one of them and somehow they all got lost in the mail. . .but that would be hopelessly untrue. The truth is, I didn't get around to it. After so long I thought to myself, "well, we'll send out a card over email". And then our ward's Christmas party happened. And then came New York. And really, I could have fit it in there somewhere between Everett's daily dose of Bambi or the dinner dishes, but I didn't. So yes, we have a new(ish) baby in the house and now people aren't going to get a card to prove it. Fortunately I have a blog, and I happen to know that I put way too many pictures of the kids on here for anyone's interest, and that most of the people we send Christmas cards to read the blog. So it all works out, right? Excuse me while I go try to erase the word "slacker" that is emblazoned across my forehead.

Secondly:

I feel like my posts have been whiny lately. I hate being whiny. So I'm just not going to do it anymore. The end.

Thirdly:

Not to brag or anything (ok, maybe a little, but all in good sport), but I just got to sleep in as late as I wanted for THREE DAYS STRAIGHT. Hence the trip to New York without the kids. As it is, I feel so well-rested that I could go run a marathon, which is good because I still have some things to finish up before, oh, tomorrow. (See first paragraph.)

Also, I'll post some pictures of our trip to New York in the next couple of days. We didn't take too many pictures; I think it was because Joel and I were lost in each other's eyes the whole time (insert groans). I don't think any of you are interested in seeing Joel's doe-eyed lovey-dovey looks. If some of you are, sorry to disappoint, but I didn't take any pictures of that.


Lastly,

MERRY CHRISTMAS! I hope each of you has a wonderful Holiday season and that you all enjoy these days to the fullest. There is so much to be grateful for; it seems I am feeling this more than I did even during Thanksgiving. Thank you all for your love and support. We love you all!

Beating a Dead Horse

I know I've been over (and over, and over, and over. . .) this recently, but sometimes I am tired of looking so young. AND, sometimes when I am tired of people commenting about it and feeling like they have to let me know what a "big responsibility" motherhood is, I wish I had the perfect zinger. Not something insulting, just a little way of saying, "mind your own business."

One of my very favorite movies is You've Got Mail. I could watch this movie every day. I love the part where Kathleen is talking to Joe about how she can never come up with the perfect comeback. This is how I feel in the kinds of situations I find myself in every day. Usually I don't mind as much because I know that I am a young mom and that I look even younger, and that I am living somewhere where I am a bit of an anomaly. But the other day after I had had a very long day of running errands, getting employees to fix their mistakes on my orders, and dealing with a couple of tired, cranky kids, I was beginning to be very cranky myself.


Cashier at Michaels: You look SOOO young

Me: (groaning inwardly) *laugh* yes, I know

Cashier: What is your age?

Me: (noting that she has an accent and pretending I don't understand) Yes, I am very young.

Cashier: No, how old are you?


Me: I'm 22

Cashier: (motioning to Everett) Oh. And how old is HE?


Me: (sighing inwardly, but smiling) He's just barely two.


Cashier, who raises her eyebrows and says pointedly: (meaningful pause) You know, that is a LOT of responsiblity.



So, what do I say? What would you say if you were particularly grumpy that day and tired of people questioning your life's choices (I am not a perfect mom and I am learning as I go, but I like to think this is at least a little the case no matter how old a person is)? Even now, days later, I can't come up with anything. Usually I just say something like, "Yes, I know. Isn't it wonderful?"

I know I've talked about this ad nauseum, but I just had to get it out there (even again). Some of your comments about saying something, just walking way, and leaving them to their reaction piqued my interest. What would they be? Any ideas?

(For the record, I know I'm making a big deal out of nothing--I promise, this usually isn't the case. I'm really not very sensitive about this. But you know what? Sometimes making a big deal about something is exactly what feels good to do)

I'm not a native Virginian

Today I've been running some last-minute errands and it has been cold(ish), wet, raining, and generally miserable. This is not the day to run errands, and yet it would seem that every possible someone in my town has decided otherwise.

I am obviously not native to this area, because in many ways I find RAIN LESS THAN A WEEK before Christmas to be somewhat depressing. However, our 60 degree day last week was really nice (thank you weather!), and our "low" temperatures of 40 degrees are not unwelcomed, either. It is also nice to not have to worry about ice on the roads yet. With all these trees, ice out here tends to stick around for a very long time.

In other news, tomorrow we are headed to New York City! No, just Joel and me. What are we, nuts? We're leaving the kids at my parents' house. We'll be back in time for Christmas, and we'll certainly be well-rested with no whining--I mean, angelic--wake up calls.

We were hesitant to go since we are preparing for Grad school, but we decided that there might never be another time in our lives when we can drop our kids off with my parents and catch a 20 dollar bus to New York city, all without having to drive, fly, or hassle with city parking. Next year we'll be in Indiana and my parents will be back in Utah, and who knows where we will be after that. If there is ever a time to "seize the day" this is it.

I'm telling you all this so that if any of you decides to come rob us, you can rest assured that it will be a waste of your time. We have nothing of value in our home. Oh, you wanted our 30 year old couch and chairs? Well. . .I suppose. Our old TV and rabbit ears that won't even work in a few months without a converter box? My target brand jewelry? Our toilet plunger?

It's all yours, if you insist. It probably will be a waste of time to expend the energy to haul it all away. And actually, seeing as we're moving several states over in five (gah!) months, you'd probably be doing us a favor.

Everyone have a Merry Christmas, or Happy Holidays, whichever you prefer. We certainly will. Seeing as our hotel room has free internet access, you might even leach a post or two out of me in the interim.

I've got a lot of work to do. . .

A couple of nights ago (for whatever reason--I don't know, so don't bother asking), Joel and I were talking about menopause. I made a comment about how it can drag on and on and it's a pain etc. etc., and he said:

"What, you just dry up and you're done."

Yep, I've got a lot of work to do with this one.

A Picture Says a Thousand Words. . .

So I'll give you a couple:

Congratulations on making it into the Notre Dame MBA program, Joel!

(The program begins in May and lasts one year, so we will be moving to Indiana by then.)
If you want dibs on football tickets, you'd better speak up. Notre Dame/USC is already taken.

Conversational

Nice elderly man in the baby section at Target:
(motions to the kids) Are they yours?

Me: (proudly) Yes

Man: Wow! You look like you're twelve!

Me: (pause) *Laugh* Yes, I know! I look young for my age.

Man: No, really, you look like you're twelve!

Me: Ha ha ha, I get that all the time.

Man: You look so young.(Mutters loudly to self and shakes head: WOW!) (Pause) You're cute, though.

Me: Laughing, smiling, murmuring thanks, and backing away.


Note to self: Next time a member of my ward tells me that when he first saw me he thought I was a child, do not dismiss this assumption.


--------------------------------------------------------------------
This next bit takes place in the UPS store, where I was just given the grand total for a shipment.

Me: (Putting my eyeballs back in my sockets and lifting my jaw off the floor) Really? I thought you quoted XXXXX amount.

Nice older UPS employee: Well, the box costs 15 dollars, and then we have to pack it. . . (editor's note: yadda yadda, and how does this double the already inflated cost?)

Me: That is much more than I was expecting. I think I'll--

UPS man: Are you a member of AAA?

Me: No. . .

other UPS employee: She looks like she's a member of AAA. Doesn't she look like she's a member of AAA? She probably just left her card at home. (Looks at me knowingly) We don't have to scan the card or anything. You look like you're a member of AAA. We'll just put it in for you. I'm sure you'll be a member of AAA eventually.

Me: Uh, thanks (appreciative but knowing it will only take the total down a fraction).

UPS man: Your new total is XXXX

Me: Uh, thanks, but I think I'll just find a way to package it myself.


The UPS man was really nice about it and did not even comment on Everett's erratic behavior through the interaction. This is what I appreciated the most.


Note to self: Never use UPS again. Even though you knew this was going to happen when you went into the store, being proven right was not on your to-do list today.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Me, after lugging a heavy bag, Ashley, and a dramatically collapsing Everett back to the car, sitting Everett down, and taking his car away:
I am not very happy with you, Everett. You ran around the store when I told you not to. You did not stay with me. I told you not to grab things off the shelves and you did it anyway. You did not listen to me when I told you to leave your shoes on your feet. You need to listen to me. When I tell you to use one finger to touch things and not to grab them, you need to listen to me. You cannot grab things off of the shelves. You need to STAY WITH ME when I tell you to stay with me.

Everett: Widens eyes, scrunches mouth, bellows angrily and defiantly: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!


Me: Thinking--huh? How does that reaction make sense? Does this mean I got through to him or does it indicate the complete opposite? (Wondering if I sound like one of the adults in all those Charlie Brown movies.)

Note to self: No longer rely solely on your strategy to talk about appropriate behavior with Everett before going into the store. OR, do not go to the store when he should be having dinner. OR, actually grab that bag of candy from home to bribe him to stay near you with like you meant to. Please. OR, do not rule out the use of straitjackets as child restraints.

I am lucky to have funny friends

I don't know where this came from exactly (except that I found it on a friend's blog--thanks, Natalie!), but it is hilarious. Two churches across the street from each other somewhere were debating on their signs. Take a look, have a laugh, and decide who you think is right :).

(click on the picture to see it larger and read the text)

Taking the plunge. . .

Well, on Saturday I finally did it. I got a haircut. I haven't had once since Ashley was born, which actually isn't all that abnormal for me. I try to make the ones I do have really count, and the last two haircuts I got (from the same person) have been the best haircuts in terms of quality I've ever had.

I had it cut in an A-line style, with the front almost to my shoulders. I still have little swoopy bangs (I'm all into the technical terms here).

It was a bit of an adjustment, and I wasn't sure if I regretted it or not. I cut off a lot of hair (well past my shoulders) and it was quite a change. When Joel met me I had short-ish hair, but I've had it longer for the last couple of years. Once I even asked a hairstylist what cut would make me look older, and she looked at me pointedly and said, "No haircut will make you look older."

So I usually just do what I'm in the mood for, which happened to be shorter this time around. I think it is because my hair was getting so long and I was tired of it, but I am happy with the cut. It was a nice change and it is nice that it doesn't take as long to dry.

Hit me

You know what I really hate?

Mastitis.

(Look it up if you're not squeamish about complaints related to nursing a baby.)

At least its not as bad as being run over by 12 semi trucks.
(maybe just 7.)


We'll survive, but I can't say the same thing about dinner tonight.
I hope you like eggs and toast, honey!

Snow!

We recently had our very first snowfall. It barely counted; there wasn't enough to even begin to cover the ground. But there was a thin dusting on the cars, so when Everett and I ran errands I took the opportunity to show it to him. This was the first experience he really has had with snow, since he has been too young until now to start to understand what it is.

He was fascinated by it. We examined it, talked about how it is cold and white, and I showed him how to make it into a ball. I also explained to him that snow melts when he holds it, and that melting means it turns into water. I'm not sure how much of that he understood, but he acted like he got every word.

We were running errands, so every time we got out of the car he had to get a little handful of snow off the trunk of the car. He would clutch the snow all through the store until it had melted into a little puddle in his palm. He didn't care; this was all part of the experience to him. Then, true to his innate sense, he always knew when we were about to wrap the errand up and leave, so he always requested more snow. This was our pattern: out of the car, snow to hold in the store. Out of the store, snow to hold in the car. His exuberance was infectious and I found myself appreciating the snow more than I ever have.

Also infectious was his eagerness to share his findings with "papa". I explained that Everett could throw the snow at him when we got in the apartment, but he didn't seem to want to let go of his little clump of snow. Once I reminded him that it would melt and turn it into water, though, he was satisfied with keeping it in the freezer so he could look at it again later.

His favorite description: Cold!
But I'm sure that had nothing to do with the fact that he
would hold it in his hands until it melted.

This is my very favorite part of being a mother. I love that I can begin to explain the world to Everett. I am so excited to be getting into this stage; I will be the authority on everything for the next few years until he wisens up. I have been preparing for this for a while--I love to collect kid-friendly informational books, so when my children ask me a question I do not know the answer to, I can help them look it up for themselves. I want my children to be inquisitive, and I want them to question the world. I do not want them to just accept that things just are, I want them to ask the whys and the hows.

I want them to learn from history. I want them to plan for the future. I want them to appreciate living things. I want them to appreciate the world, because it is interesting, but mostly because it is something their Heavenly Father made for them.

Moments like the ones Everett and I had with snow are the most precious to me. I am so grateful for them. They help remind me why I enjoy being a mother. I love seeing a concept click in a child's mind, seeing that light turn on and illuminate their little frame, right down to their fingertips which dance from delight. There is so much I have to look forward to as my kids grow older. I can afford to be a bit idealistic right now since my kids are so young, but I hope that at least some of what I want for them comes to fruition.

Apparently I'm boring

This probably will not come as a surprise to many of you (namely, roommates). I know I'm boring and really, I'm okay with that. I suppose part of being boring is that you are content with being boring.

The reason I know this is because last night after Joel and I watched the recent movie Get Smart, he turned to me and said, "You know this is a good movie when you are laughing this much about it." It's true; I do not laugh very often during movies and TV shows, and if I do it has a lot to do with whether people near me are laughing. Joel laughs often and this is why I love watching movies with him.

The moral of this story is that if you are in the mood for a good comedy, rent Get Smart. Steve Carell does a fantastic job as Maxwell Smart, a well-intentioned but methodically flawed FBI (?) agent. If you are a fan of Anne Hathaway, as I am, you will also enjoy her role in the movie.

This movie was very funny. I laughed many, many times. The comedic timing was usually perfect, and much of the humor was unexpected which made it all the more enjoyable. One part taking place in a fighter jet still makes me chuckle each time I think of it (I won't tell you more in case you haven't seen the movie yet). Really, the only thing that made it funny was that it was so unexpected.

The best part of this movie was that it was clean. There was one passing sexual joke (non-verbal) thrown in and only a couple of swear words. It is sad that I can classify this as "clean" because it would obviously be much better if none of that was in there at all, but I was impressed with how much they didn't put in but easily could have. I always appreciate that.

Overall, the movie was excellent. There were a few predictable parts, but I appreciated the humor. I think this was only enhanced by the fact that we were in the perfect mood to enjoy this type of movie.

So, if you're in the mood to stay in on this cold dreary day, this would be an excellent choice. Just make sure your stomach is properly conditioned for a laugh.

Holiday Treat

I know it kind of goes against the grain to drink something frozen-ish
in the wintertime, but if any of you is a
fan of eggnog (we are), you ought to try this:

Ingredients:

Eggnog
Ice

Directions:

Blend together.
Drink.
Wish you had more.


(P.S. would be even better if your ice was actually frozen milk cubes. . .)

Photography

I recently set out to photograph Ashley so I could have an updated photo of her smiling. My Mother-in-Law also wants one so she can put it in her new Chrismas picture ornaments (don't worry, I'll send them to you today!).

It got me thinking, though. If I were to be a professional photographer (don't worry, I don't have aspirations that high for myself), I think photographing babies would be a lot of fun. You never know if you'll get a full-on grin, or if spit up will come flying at you just as you hit the shutter release. Do digital cameras have shutter releases? I don't know my terminology. For posterity's sake (or for my own amusement), here are some of what I imagine are common baby picture happenings.

The no-show-smile-but-at-least-it's-not-blurry-so-you'll-consider-keeping-it pose.

The Portrait of an Eyelid

The "do you smell something or is that just me?" picture

The deer in the headlights pose.
Endearing, but you weren't trying to get a picture of bambi.

The finally-I-sort-of-caught-a-smile pose.

Wait a second. No, that's the "I'm filling my diaper" pose.

Then you get the dewy innocent looks. . .

. . .which are nice, but you were going for an actual smile.

(but maybe when she is three you will like to look back on these and remember when these looks weren't attached to an "I don't know who drew on the wall with your lipstick, mommy.")

Then, finally, a SMILE that isn't too grimacy or dewy, with just the right amount of laughs.
But, at the risk of becoming overly ambitious, do you dare hope for another one?

Well sure, I guess you do.

Missionary Inspiration

I love reading my sister Amanda's missionary letters. This probably has something to do with the fact that she is my sister. Probably.

But I really love some of the insights she has. I can tell by reading her letters that she is really "on fire" and she is really developing a deeper love not only for the gospel principles, but for living those principles. She said something in her most recent letter that hit me a little harder than the rest, mostly because this is something I am currently trying to work on myself:

I’m learning that when I take an hour in the mornings to feast upon the words of Christ, nothing can go really wrong. Or rather, anything can go wrong, and it doesn’t matter. I dive into my personal study each morning as a beggar at a feast, for the more I understand the feast that is placed before me, the more I long to partake of it.

Do I have an hour every morning? Usually not. But I do have time I can make. I think the last part of what she said is key--that the more she understands, the more she wants to partake of it. I do not always have as much desire as I should to sit and delve into the scriptures. I have been praying for more desire, but the answer really is that simple. It makes me think of John 7:17--"If any man will do his will he shall know of the gospel." It is a nice reminder that the more we do, the more we understand, and the more we desire to do.

(I'm going to put another plug in and recommend that you go here to read more of the letter)

The other day I read what President Hinkley had to say about the book And There Was Light, autobiography of Jacques Lusseyran.



"Recently, a man sent me a book. He is a doctor of philosophy in a great university. He told me that reading that book had become a significant experience in his life. I read it. It is the story of a boy in Paris who, in an accident, was blinded at the age of eight. It is an account of how when darkness surrounded him, there came a new light into his life. When he was 16 or 17, the Germans conquered France and German soldiers marched into Paris. This blind boy, a brilliant student, organized a resistance group. He and his associates ran an operation for getting information and circularizing it with a little newspaper they printed on a duplicator. The effort grew until they were distributing more than 250,000 copies an issue. Then he was betrayed by a member of the group, arrested, and sent to Buchenwald. There in filth and despair he lived with similar victims. He could not see, but there was a light within him that rose above the tragedy of his circumstances. He survived as a leader among those in that foul camp. The little newspaper he started became a great newspaper. I read that book and was lifted and strengthened by the story of that remarkable young man. If you cannot find good heroes and heroines for your children on television, help your children find them in good books."

(you can find the talk in which he discusses the book here.)

I think I am going to check this book out from the library. I would like to read it, especially during this time of year when I like to remember that there is so much in my life I take for granted. If anyone has read it, let me know what you thought of it. If you haven't read it, above is a pretty good recommendation!

Callings

Joel and I just received new callings in the ward. We used to be on the Activities Committee, but now Joel is the Athletic Director (but he is actually still on the committee) and I was called to the primary. Want to guess where?

Well, first let me back up and tell you about a conversation Joel and I had a few weeks ago concerning callings. I basically told Joel that I would be happy to have any calling in the church, but that it would be by far the hardest for me to be happy about accepting a calling in Nursery. Does this surprise anyone? I think it is because I am pretty much in nursery every day of the week, and I really look forward to going to church and being able to sit through a lesson without keeping track of a toddler (It's for two hours a week. Is that too much to ask?).

Can you guess where my calling is now? Yes, that's right, I was called to Nursery. I accepted, of course, but now my biggest job with my calling is figuring out how to be as happy about it as I want to be. I'll get there.

The only real problem with Nursery is that I am in there with Everett, and he is not yet used to me being in there with him and not for him. Yesterday he was incredibly whiny through the whole two hours, and there were a couple of times he was loudly crying a few feet away from me while I was busy tending to the other kids. People tell me that he is so mellow in nursery, and I believe them, but I also know that he is not as mellow around me because I am his mother.

The other issue with Everett is that since he is very shy around other people, I have really been happy that he has done so well in Nursery without me. I have been even happier that he has the experience once a week for two hours to be with people he is not that familiar with, and to learn to play with other children. He really needs that since otherwise he is with me all day, every day. Lately if we go to someone's house he doesn't recognize, he doesn't even want to go in the door. Once I get him in, he doesn't last very long before he decides he has to leave. He has done very well in nursery and I have been glad because I want him to learn to be more independent, especially because he is so shy, and especially by the time he goes to primary.

I have no doubt that Everett will get used to me being in nursery with him, and that I have to tend to the other children as well. I just wonder if he will still be less willing to interact with the other people while I am there. I really hope not. This is something he needs to learn, but I think it might be difficult for him.

I think we will both get used to this new nursery set-up, but I hope it doesn't take as long as I sometimes think it will. I will also have to get used to not looking forward so much to Relief Society every week. So, does anyone have advice? How do I get Everett used to the new situation in nursery? Do I just wait it out? Also, how do you become happier about having a calling you wouldn't have picked for yourself?

To Be Two Again. . .

Today our condominium had the grounds crew come and remove the gigantic leaf piles that have been hanging around for a while. This involves a truck with netting over an arched wire frame in the back, and giant crimped hose vacuum which violently spews the leaves inside the frame.

It makes a gigantic amount of noise, is large and powerfu, and is a two year old boy's dream come true. This is especially so when the truck parks itself right in front of our balcony.

Everett was fascinated for a long time, telling me excitedly about how the men were sucking the leaves inside the truck, and all about the wheels. He was glued to the window. When I suggested that we go out on the balcony to watch, he ran to get his shoes and coat faster than I'd ever seen. (He was much less happy about coming in to take his nap, but that's just how it goes.) When we got outside he spent a lot of time waving to the crew, the truck, and probably the leaves.

Seeing as Thanksgiving is tomorrow, it was a nice reminder to me that we have so many things to be thankful for. I am thankful that my boy is healthy and interested in the world around him. This is something I want to cultivate for all my children. I am also thankful that we have so many trees here (but I can say that because I don't have to personally rake all the leaves), and I am thankful for the smell of the crispy fallen leaves. I am also thankful that we live in a place that we feel safe and happy in, and that the ground crews generally do a good job keeping things neat.

Grateful. . .

Is what you are when you realize you were (with divine help), down to the milisecond, able to keep your toddler from burning down the house and/or permanently mutilating himself.

You discovered this when, after finishing folding the laundry, you walked into the kitchen in time to see him standing in front of the stove on a stool he had dragged from his room. AND, you saw that he had placed a dishtowel on one of the gas burners. AND, he was in the act of turning said burner on. AND, as soon as he saw you, he didn't, but reached and flipped the back one on instead, the sudden roar of blue flame missing the dishtowel by about an inch.

All in the time it took you to walk three feet forward to reach him.

Which is far shorter than the time it takes for you to give him a lengthy--in toddler minutes--discussion about the dangers of fire, that fire is hot, and that we never, never turn those knobs (all the while watching him nod solemnly and wondering whether he is going to remember this talk tomorrow.)


. . .Not that I would know this from personal experience.

We're finally admitting that

. . . we actually are mean parents. All that niceness you might see? It's a facade. This is what we do for entertainment in our spare time.



Because, you know, it's so much fun to see a baby cry. (As a side note, is it wrong for me to say that I love Ashley's cry? It sounds so sweet and pitiful and she always looks like you have just hurt her feelings, but I know I can only say this because I am her mother).



But we don't only torment Ashley. We're equal opportunity bullies around here.

This is Everett, at about six weeks old (and please don't mind the Christmas day mess in the background):




And, lest you think we don't let our children have any fun, here is a happier video from the same night as the first one.



So, you see, Ashley is over it and perfectly happy, although after Joel scares her she does seem a little nervous for the next couple of minutes when he looks at her. The worst part about it is that Everett seemed to think it was funny and enjoyed going up to her and scaring her, so we took these videos after he was in bed. Hopefully by today he has forgotten how fun it was for him to see his scaring roar actually elicit a reaction from someone.

Awww. . .

My good friend Natalie has nominated me for a blog award. Wasn't that nice of her? I think so, even though this award isn't prestigious--it is more of a pass-along award. But it is the thought that counts. And I would definitely link back to her, because I love her blog, but is is private! So sorry, you'll all have to miss out on this one. Natalie and I met back in our BYU married student ward when we were thrown into the Primary Presidency together. She and I, and the two others in the presidency, hit it off and have kept in contact ever since, thanks to blogging. Natalie is kind to everyone and is very unselfish. She also loves to laugh and has the kind of presence that brightens the room. She is also the mom of two small boys: Jayden 19 months (?) and Ethan, 5 months. She is busy, but she is raising happy boys so she must be hitting the mark. I wish you all could get to know her and love her.

Here's the way the "Blog Awards" work:
1. Whomever I nominate gets to put this same picture on their blog.
2. Link back to the person who nominated you on your post.
3. Nominate 5 other blogs.
4. Link up to them.
5. Leave a message (comment) on those blogs to let them know they were nominated.


Ok, this is going to be tricky because I have a lot of blogs I love to read. Some of the ones I really like are private, so I can't nominate them (all of my sisters-in-law, for some).

1. Rebecca Clark. I met her through visiting teaching in my current ward, and I have loved being able to visit her. She has a great perspective and a great sense of humor. She also has a good head solidly resting on her shoulders, which I love. Her blog is one of my very favorites; she is always posting interesting thoughts or making me laugh.

2. The Sjolseths. Sheila is also in my current ward and has a son named Everett who is three weeks older than my Everett. She also just had (as in, three days ago) an adorable little boy named Merritt, who I am so excited to get to know. She has an interesting take on a lot of things and always writes with a sense of humor. She is an educator and an amazing mother, and that shows through on a lot of what she writes.

3. The Browns. Jessica, the writer of the blog, was another member of the Primary Presidency in my married student ward. In fact, she was the President and she was an amazing one at that. She had a special love for the children, but she has a special love for everyone. She has a sweet girl named Olivia who is 10 days younger than Everett, and she also has a little boy on the way. She lives in Washington and I am always so excited to read her take on the area and the people she meets. You'll come away from her blog feeling happy.

4. The Jameses. Tori was one of my freshman roommates at BYU. We had a wonderful time together and with our other roommates. We actually shared a room, and she never even got on my nerves (I don't know if I can say the same for me bothering her)! She is very smart and loves to read, and lately she has been really into sewing and crafting. She is good at relating to anyone. She also has an amazing baby named Katrina who is only a few months older than Ashley is.

5. The Redferns--therhouse. Okay, I admit it, I don't actually know Lindsey in person (am I a blog lurker? maybe). But she is the daughter of my just-released Bishop, and she has a remarkable story. She and her husband have two amazingly cute adopted sons, one who has only recently joined their family. They have very open relationships with the birth mothers, and she and her husband do a lot to publicly advocate adoption. She has a lot of inspirational, honest posts, and she also includes great articles. She makes experiences with infertility more real and tangible to those of us who have not yet had to deal with them.



Well, those are a few of the blogs I follow. A part of why I picked these was that they are updated frequently. Have fun perusing, if you would like. And thanks again, Natalie. I wish I could send people over to you!

The Johnson Family Theatre

We have a new production currently in progress. Curious to know what it is?
We decided to revive an old classic. . .

Well, ok. I didn't decide to revive it; my boss did. In fact, I was 100% opposed to this idea, but my boss, being exceedingly short and exceedingly forceful and loud, sometimes gets me to accept a lot of ideas I wouldn't normally consider, like pulling the shopping cart with the blue police car out even though it is waaay in the back of the line. But that's a whole other issue.

So far the production is going terribly. We get no audience attendance and to be honest, we're kind of a hyde-freaks-out one act deal sort of thing. It's really not that pretty. And Mr. Hyde? Well, he's really only interested in chocolate chips and the movie Bambi. I don't know what's going on with that. And I'm not going to even mention the fact that today he ate no vegetables except for a couple of grape tomatoes.

I'm really trying to give my boss the benefit of the doubt here. He does have a rather awful cold. But to be honest? Is it a little understandable that I am tired of asking him something, anything, and be answered with no less than a roar-yell-cry of 1450 decibles? It's enough to make me want to start a workers' union. And then, THEN, when I am just getting sick of it all, he gives me the look. It's a look of pure trust and adoration, and if I'm feeling optimistic I'll think I see some undying appreciation thrown into the mix.

I think it is these moments that keep me on this job. Sometimes these nice moments are worth the headache (literally sometimes) of trying to work with a boss who thinks he is right all the time, and therefore has to get what he wants. Or he. will. just. die. We're not even going to talk about mandatory snack time.

Romances? Nope. We don't have any of those around here. Just Major One-Act Productions. (About everything)

Get back to me in the morning. Maybe the boss will call an early curtain on this production. Don't worry, I won't be disappointed--but let's keep that between you and me.

I am short.

Betcha didn't know that, did you? I don't mind being short. I really don't. It feels very normal to me to have to look up at everyone when I want to carry on a conversation. The only thing I don't like about it is that because I have a very young-looking face, being short just adds to the fact that I easily look like I'm still in high school and worrying about whether I should wear the blue sweater or the red sweater today--and oh, maybe that boy in my math class likes me.

I feel like if you see me from the back, you automatically assume I'm still 16 and idolizing my fresh new driver's license (or maybe you think I'm twelve, in which case, I have nothing more to say about that).

One comment I get a lot--that is, everywhere I go--goes something like this:

Person A: Wow! You are really young!

Me: (Laughs) Yes, I know (hoping the person won't ask the next question that only some are polite enough to refrain from).

Person A: (Looks at the two kids I have with me and debates whether I'm the mom or the nanny). So, how old are you?

Me: (thinks briefly of claiming I just have a good plastic surgeon) Oh, I'm 22.

Person A now has multiple scenarios running through his or her mind: That I had the kids by accident and possibly had a shotgun marriage because of it (this is if they check for a wedding ring); that I am in way over my head and my kids will grow up to be juvenile delinquents (this could possibly be true); or that I am either some sort of crazy anomaly or just stupid.

After all this (quick) thinking, they come out with something like: ...Oh! Well, aren't these vegetables/clothes/dog food a great price?

Sometimes they seem to feel the need to give me some advice. I try to not assume this is because of my age, but it probably is. Sometimes they feel the need to talk about how wonderful motherhood is, which is something they would say regardless of my age, I would think. But sometimes they say it in a very particular way--that is, eying me as though to say: don't think about reverting back to your partying days just because this gets hard.

For as big of a deal I am making this sound, I really do take it all with a grain of salt. I am confident in my choices; I know they were right for me. I also feel very fortunate because I know many people out there who would make better parents than I, but who are finding having kids to be a little more difficult than expected, for whatever reason. I hope my age isn't a slap in the face to them, but I understand if it is.

I get a little picky about whether strangers are judging me based on my age or on my actions. Does this matter? No. But I think it bothers me because if you see me making a mistake with my children, I would rather you think "Oh, she shouldn't do X because of Y," not "Oh, she's young and immature and doesn't know any better." That's my oldest-child-syndrome pride for you.

But the one thing that makes me laugh is evidence of how youth-obsessed our culture it. For instance, you would never find me (or anyone else with a basic sense of decency) saying to a mom, "Wow, you look really old! How old are you?" I think we can all guess how that conversation would go. But it is okay to ask someone that bluntly about being young. I understand all the reasons why, I do, and I'm happy to accept them. I just wish people would realize that maybe I feel as self-conscious about my young age as many people do about their old(er) age.

(And for the record, just because I'm 22, I don't think people in their 30's are old.)

Someday I'll have wrinkles and gray hair and wonder why I ever thought so much about how I am so young and already at this stage of life. But until then, I'll indulge myself, and practice the decorum it takes to smile warmly and reply, "yes, I'm 22."

Stats

Ashley had her 4 month well-visit, complete with immunizations today. These are her stats:

Head: 65th percentile
Height: 50th percentile
Weight: 25th percentile

The only thing I found to be remarkable was that her weight is at quite a lower percentile than her height. I am not worried about this because she is obviously a healthy baby, but this is definitely not something I'm used to seeing with Everett's numbers.

Let's see, at this age, I think he was in the 95th percentile for just about everything (at 18 months he was at 10th for height and 40th for weight, so we'll see what they say at his two year check-up).

But I just thought this was interesting. None of my babies had these kinds of numbers before this. (wait, isn't it annoying how I say "none of my babies" as though I am on my twelfth child and all of this is old hat now?)

Oh, and just in case you are wondering--no, I do not obsess over these numbers. I think about them the day of and then never even think about them again. That is, unless I'm writing a blog post about it, which probably completely negates my disclaimer here.

Cuddles

As I have said before, Ashley is a very undemanding baby. She is happy to be held but she is also happy to be on her own, and if she is fussy she is usually happy with a pacifier. Right now, though, she is a little fussy but is perfectly happy as long as she can snuggle into me while sitting on my lap. Everett was definitely a mama's boy, so while he was sweet in his own way, he was also very demanding--especially about being held. All the time. But all I can think of is how grateful I am for this little Ashley girl and for what a sweet spirit she is.

And mostly, I am grateful that she doesn't demand to be held all the time, because it makes these moments all that much sweeter for me. I love being able to enjoy snuggling her almost as much as she enjoys snuggling me (because we all know babies love to be snuggled).

10 Reasons I know Everett is Getting Older

1. He likes to "pretend" to be a dog or other animal, though he really prefers the dog.
   
   
2. If I don't know where something is and I know Everett had it earlier, I can ask him where it is and he will correctly show me almost every time.
   
   
3. He understands when something is sharp, hot, or dangerous and stays away from it (and makes sure I am aware of the danger as well).
   
   
4. He understands and can follow through on multiple commands all at once.
   
   
5. He knows how to put an outfit together, though his gift for "matching" obviously came from his father. I like this one because I can send him into his room for his clothes and he'll go get them for me.
   
   
6. He knows how to crack eggs into a bowl, use the KitchenAid (including attaching the beater), and that when something goes into the oven he must wait patiently for the microwave's timer to go off.
   
   
7. He can name* every animal or motorized (or person-propelled) vehicle in the book.
   
   
8. He loves to tease us. He regularly hides Joel's alarm clock. When I take out the trash he will run to the empty trashcan and whisk it away. He loves to hide things and then throw up his arms in mock astonishment and perplexity.
   
   
9. He can follow along with some of the plot lines in his movies (such as when Bambi loses his Mother, though he obviously doesn't understand the death concept), and will talk* to me about them as they are happening.
   
   
10. He can correctly identify his rights from his lefts.

*Bear in mind that even I can't detect most of the subtle differences in his words--out of context--most of the time, so I use words like "talk" loosely, as we are still working on the verbalizing part.

Happy Birthday, Everett!

Two years ago today. . .

One year ago. . .

Now. . .

Think he's changed?

Amanda's missionary website is now up and running. I decided to go with wordpress, so it took me a little while to get used to the new format. I will update it weekly with her letters or anytime there is something relevant to post.

You're welcome to browse the site. Her letters are, at the very least, uplifting. I am a little biased in my enjoyment of them because she is my sister and I am so very proud of her. Speaking of which, I'd better send her a letter so she doesn't think I've forgotten all about her . . .

Amanda with President and Sister Hoer, Taiwan Taizhong mission

Gettysburg. Or, The Date.

Joel and I recently were able to go to Gettysburg thanks to my wonderful parents (and siblings) who took the kids for a day. We had a lot of fun since it was just the two of us so we could concentrate on the sights rather than keeping a toddler from becoming an all-out hooligan. I think the kids had fun as well, seeing as they are doted on without end whenever they're even within shouting distance of my parents' home.

A year ago Joel and I read the book The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara. It is all about the battle of Gettysburg, who the commanders were, what the general feeling of the battle was, and the significance of the battle in the Civil War. It was a fascinating book. Upon completion, we could discuss the commanders, tactics, strategies, failures and successes of the battle with ease. We wanted to visit Gettysburg while all this was fresh in our minds, but we were only able to this past weekend. It was too bad, because we had already forgotten most of what we read.

Had I had time, I think I would have liked to re-read the book. Moral of the story: read up on Gettysburg before you go. It will make all the details make more sense.

This in no way means our trip to Gettysburg was not a success. We enjoyed every minute (though I think I would have enjoyed a trip to a termite museum if it meant I could do it without my kids demanding most of my attention).


Monument to the 12th NY Regiment. You can't tell in this picture, but it looked like a miniature castle, spiral staircase and tower in all.



Very tall tower overlooking some of the fighting grounds.



I don't remember what this was a monument to. Maybe one of the states whose soldiers fought in the war (they had monuments to all those states).


This was the only time I could get Joel to pose. I thought maybe since it was in front of a cannon he would feel all manly, but no such luck.

Precocious Exersaucer-er

Ashley can be a very mobile baby. Often when we lay her on the floor (on a blanket) she will roll and move around all over the place. Lately, though, she has been rolling onto her belly as soon as we leave her on her back. I have yet to figure out why she does this because when she discovers that she is on her stomach she yells out these sweet little frustrated cries until someone comes over and fixes the situation. She knows how to roll from her stomach to her back; she just doesn't like to do it for some reason.

All this rolling makes it difficult for her to enjoy the playgym I got her. A few days ago, on impulse, I got out our exersaucer. Everett never really used it because he always wanted to be held but I was holding out high hopes for Ashley to enjoy it in a couple of months.

Well, that time is now, folks. Ashley is a bit young for it (or so I thought) but she really enjoys playing around in it. She handles all the toys and gazes around at the world. She loves being upright so she can see everything but she is far less demanding about it than Everett was. Her feet can reach the bottom on the lowest setting, and she does not wobble around, which means I feel good about letting her continue to use it. Who knows, maybe we'll have an early walker with this child.










Everett was interested in this as soon as I got it out. He has seen all the toy attachments (they are removable) kicking around in his toy box since we've moved here and I think he was interested to finally know where they go. He loved to show her the toys, which really captivated her. Of course, one time after I had taken her out and put her to bed, I heard some little quiet sheepish calls from Everett. He had climbed into it and was sitting in it correctly, but couldn't quite figure out how to get out. I don't think he has tried it since.

Oh, and in case you're wondering about Everett's bare legs, we have a no-pants policy in our house.

Just kidding. This is what happens when you change his diaper and you don't want to chase him down for the 57th time to put pants back on him.




You can't tell in this picture, but her feet are hitting the bottom. And don't mind that growth-looking thing on her right knee area. Her legs are perfectly normal; apparently it's the camera flash that isn't.

Scare Tactics

Everett's latest thing is scaring people.

A few months ago I taught him how to sneak up on someone (namely, Joel) and roar at him as soon as he was in view. Everett thought this was hilarious, and loved to creep along with a "shhh. shhhh. SSHHHH," his little finger to his lips the whole way, until he would bust out a loud yell-growl.

The only thing is that he needed encouragement and assistance in order to be able to perform the scare successfully.

Tonight he did it all by himself, several times, bursting with the hilarity of it each and every time.

He looked so proud of himself.

And I just loved it.

Does this mean I win?

What do you think? Do you all agree with both of these assessments?

Colonial Williamsburg

We went to Colonial Williamsburg over the weekend, which is the reason I haven't posted in a while. I know you've all been on the edge of your seats anticipating my next post. . .so aren't you glad I'm finally getting around to it?

I didn't end up taking very many pictures, which is kind of a shame, but pictures of old houses aren't that interesting anyway.

Everett enjoyed himself by running around everywhere, meaning everywhere he wanted to go. If I wanted him to go somewhere he would not have it unless I was able to convince him it was his idea. He really did pretty well considering that some days he didn't really have a nap, but it did make him conditioned to have meltdowns very easily. Poor guy.








My brother Mack got accosted by some Grecian beauties on the beaches of Yorktown. Apparently they were doing a school project and were interviewing people about how they felt about the new democracy in Greece. It seemed they were only interested in interviewing Mack. I'm sure this had nothing to do with the fact that he is a good-looking boy around their age.


Here we are with the Founding Fathers in Yorktown. Everett was getting his diaper changed by Grandma, so he is not pictured. Joel had to leave after the first day to go back to work and the kids and I stayed so we could see the sights.


This is a picture my sister Maddy took of the Colonial Parkway. It was beautiful with all of the fall colors, but this picture doesn't do it justice. This seems to be a particularly green stretch but you can see a little red and yellow.


Next, we went to Jamestown. This was really fun; it was possibly my favorite thing.

Pictured is a boat that brought fifty-something people over from England. I'm sure it was a replica and not the actual boat, but it was still fun to see.



I knew the sleeping quarters were small, but it was amazing to see them in person. My sister Maddy is about my height and her feet reached the wall. These were the nice accommodations, too. The majority of the people were stuck down in the hold.


I wanted to get a picture of this because it is THE cooking accommodations to feed all fifty-something people. I can't even imagine. It makes me really glad for the size of my kitchen I use to feed three!


The nice thing about Jamestown is that it has settlements re-created. This is in the fort, inside a supply house. For some reason this was Everett's favorite house, so it was difficult to get him to move on.




This is inside an Indian house, in a little village that was re-created for us. I can't remember what this kind of house was called but it was fun to be able to walk around in them. The best part about these is that they have people dressed up in the appropriate clothing who are there to pose as natives and answer questions. Apparently the inside of these houses were quite smoky due to the cooking and heating fire, but this was the goal because this is how they cured their food. The smoke would stay up near the rafters so it wasn't as much of a problem for the people living there.


Well, anyway, this was a really fun trip and so I wanted to recommend it to those of you who are in the area but haven't been. There is a lot to see and do. In williamsburg we went to a witch trial and saw a comical entertainment show. There are also people there posing as famous figures, such as Thomas Jefferson, who gave a great speech. You can also see the way shops and businesses ran, such as furniture makers, apothecaries, wig makers, etc.