No snooze button on this alarm

Working the night shift can be hard, especially when you only have an hour's notice that you'll be working. But I like to think that late morning wake-ups like this help make up for it.


Sure, he only got 3 hours of sleep after 28 hours awake (13 of those working and 8 of those taking care of all the kiddos while I worked). But still, I think he was happy to see us.

What a guy, what a guy.

Tell me how ... to give service

So much (OK, all) of this last year has been about me-me-me. First I was on bed rest with twins. Then I had just given birth to twins. Then I was raising the twins along with the other kids. I have been served countless times this year, by those within the walls of my home, by friends and community members providing meals and acts of kindness for our family, and even by those who live far away but sent gifts and prayers for us. I have been spoiled by service.

It is well past time for me to get off my duff and start giving back. Problem is, I'm still a bit overwhelmed to do some of the more "traditional" forms of service for others.

Every time I set out to make a batch of cookies, something comes crashing down (literally) in the living room. When I sign up to give someone at church a ride or bring them a meal, Ben gets called into work at the last minute and I'm left scrambling to fulfill the duty.

I want to serve others, but I want to love serving others, not wind up crying in the bathroom with an anxiety attack. (I know, I know, I'm a wimp.)

I know from experience, having been so well served, that there are billions of acts of kindness that qualify as service. So with the holiday season and my total inability to think of new ideas, I'm turning to you. Tell me how to give service. If each reader listed even one small thing that someone with a million small children and limited patience could accomplish for someone else, I think I'd have an arsenal to last me a while. And as an added incentive, I am committed to trying absolutely every idea you give me. (Caveat: if, say, your list item is to come scrub your toilet and you live in Minnesota, that's probably not gonna happen. OK, if you live next door that's probably not gonna happen. Just a fair warning.)

So, what ideas have you got? How can I serve others in the small and simple ways so 2012 won't be the year of me-me-me but instead the year of giving back after all I have been given?

Hammy's poor face

My dear Hammy just can't catch a break.

Well, sure, he doesn't have congenital heart defects or other major health problems. So I guess he caught THOSE breaks. But when it comes to all the little things, he just can't catch a break.

This is Hammy's face before dinner. What a sweet, happy face it is. If you closely examine it you can probably tell there's some red blotches everywhere. But it's relatively not bad.


And this is his face right after dinner.


Super blurry, I know. And the bandage is kinda hard to see through (or, you know, impossible). But the bandage was essential, given that during dinner last night his face started bleeding. Like, through his pores.

That's right, through his pores. We had noodles with tomato sauce, and he got sauce all over his face. I wiped it off, turned around -- face still looked covered in sauce. Wiped again -- not sauce. Blood. And there wasn't a cut or a skinned area. I would just touch his skin and blood would ooze out.

Talk about freaky.

I made the mistake of putting that bandage on him. I honestly didn't have much choice -- it wouldn't stop bleeding (kiddo has his mother's bleeding and clotting issues, I'm guessing). As it was, his pillow wound up stained in blood by morning. But when I pulled the bandage off for his doctor's appointment this morning, all the skin came with it. And now we have this.


I just don't know what to do for this kid. He has to eat, but eating does this to him. His tummy is fine. His diapers (as long as he stays dairy-free) are fine. But his poor little face is taking such a beating. A few weeks ago, when all of this started in earnest, he would clear up between meals. Now he's just always a little bit red and blotchy, though clearly the worst right after eating.

Some things I'm going to try --

• Straws only to try to keep liquids off the area around his mouth;
• As many neat finger foods as possible, again to keep things off his skin;
• Petroleum jelly and ointment all over his face all the time until it clears up and a good quality lotion after/if it clears;
• His own washcloth that is washed separately in a scent-free, hypoallergenic soap;
• A humidifier in his room, since everything got so much worse when the dry winter began;
• Any suggestions you can come up with.

I'd appreciate ideas if you've got any. I could especially use thoughts on finger foods that our entire family can survive on for the next several weeks while we try to get this under control. We've learned through his dairy-free diet (which, by the way, he's back on for those wondering) that it works best when we're all eating the same things. It's rough for a 2-year-old to see big sister or Mommy eating something that he can't have.

Poor little guy. If it's this bad now I wonder how rotten his life is going to be during this teenage years when the skin on his face is REALLY going to rebel against him. That is, if he still has skin on his face by then. Sigh. Poor, poor little guy.

What 7 p.m. looks like at our house

This is our view most nights at 7 p.m.




Aside from the tree falling down for the umpteenth time, life doesn't get any sweeter. (And yes, my kids sleep in the weirdest ways.)

Tell me how ... to identify an allergy

Poor, poor Hammy. That kid just can't eat anything.

We figured out his dairy issues shortly after he turned 1. And when I say "figured out" I mean we identified the problem. We've struggled to know how to deal with it for the last year and a half.

Now we have something new going on. Something else is causing his face to break out in a terrible rash, just around his mouth, almost every time he eats. It gets so bad that it bleeds (I'm sure he's picking at it at night which doesn't help) and I worry he's going to scar.

We took him into the doctor, but she thought it was just irritation from eating in general, not the foods he's eating. She advised us to keep the area around his mouth smeared with Vaseline and ointment all the time. That certainly has helped clear his face up. But it's done nothing to prevent him from breaking out again each and every time he eats.

So, friends with vast experience, tell me how we can figure out what we're dealing with. He has super-duper sensitive skin, so perhaps it is simply the irritation of food touching his mouth. But it never happened before. And we can't exactly feed him through a straw forever.

Maybe it's his milk allergy and we just didn't realize that there was milk in foods like bananas and rice?

Or maybe he's reacting to something else that he's eating and we're just not catching what exactly it is. Any recommendations on how to get a 2-year-old to only eat one-ingredient foods one at a time until we can figure it out? (Yeah, thought that was a long shot.)

We love our sweet faced little boy and would love to keep that face rash-free. I'll also gratefully take ideas on creams or ointments that can better clear him up if we can't figure out or avoid whatever's causing it.

Another stowaway

The kids and I hit the Nativity display Sunday. The LDS Church in town puts together an amazing Creche every year. In one room, they have dozens of costumes of all sizes so families can dress up and create their own nativity. This is what our family put together.


Cute, right? Nelly was typecast as an angel. She absolutely did not want to take her wings off. Hawk and Deak absolutely could not wait to get their sheep costumes off. And Hammy? Well ...

Yeah, that's not Hammy.

Hammy was wearing Nelly's coat and absolutely refused to take it off (I think for fear that she'd take it back). I was not exactly in the mood to force a kid to dress up so he could sulk or scream in what's supposed to be a nice, reverent photo. Not while I was flying solo, at least. So I opted to have the photo Hammy-less.

Enter this kid. No idea who he is. Certainly didn't plan on him joining us (neither did his parents). But I do know that when Ben (who wasn't there) saw the photo, the first thing he said was, "Oh, man, Hammy looks cute."

Yep, not Hammy. But I'll bet I could have turned this into a Christmas card and no one would have been the wiser.

My new goal in life: To make sure some random stranger is in every family photo from now on.

Yo Ho Ho

I realize now my title may lead some to believe this is a post about pirates. It is not. I was just trying to make Santa seem cool. Cool like a pirate. But I digress.

Saturday there was a fun shindig in town. There was a free showing of "The Smurfs" followed by free lunch, crafts, and Santa time. Pretty exciting. We had planned to go as a family, but I don't know what we were smoking when we hatched that plan -- Ben worked the night before and was as zombie as you can legally get without being shot with a silver bullet (or whatever you do to zombies). Fortunately my friend Meagan swooped in and saved the day. She met me there and helped out immensely with the kiddos (the babies stayed home with their not-so-attentive-but-still-physically-present daddy).

Nelly hated the movie -- I knew she would. She thought it was too scary. Like the terrible parent that I am, I just rocked her on my lap gently and made her stay through most of it. Yep, I learned that one from a mother who brought her 7-year-old to watch "The Dark Knight" in the theater. She just rocked the child through all the sobbing. I felt a tiny bit more justified because this movie was "The Smurfs" and the character she was terrified of was played by Hank Azaria. But I'm still just as rotten of a parent, I'm sure.

When Nelly just couldn't take it anymore, Meagan graciously offered to take her out to find something else to do. And something else they did. They found this guy.


Nelly was SO excited to tell him all about the pink robot (??!!) he is supposed to bring her for Christmas. Then they did some crafts while they waited for Hammy and me to finish the movie.

(It was Hammy's first time at the movies, by the way. Did I think to take a picture? You'd better believe I did not.)

Later Hammy decided he wanted to see Santa and Nelly remembered the rest of her list (a princess Barbie and a Jasmine dress), so we jumped back in line to see Santa. It got a little crowded in front, so I wasn't able to prevent this from happening.


They were trying to hurry the line along so they were taking family shots instead of solo shots, and not surprisingly they assumed this kiddo belonged with the other two. He does not. Strangely enough, though, he is one of Hammy's bestest pals.


I feel like this photo should be a poster promoting a sitcom starring Nelly. There she is, upstaging Santa. Hammy's tender little heart is quietly breaking and Kid-who-isn't-mine is mad as all heck and not gonna take it any more. Yeah, there should be a sitcom that incorporates all of those things. I'd watch it.

We had a great time (thanks to Meagan). I'm grateful that I've come far enough along as a parent that (with Meagan's help) I can actually take my kids out of the house by myself (with help). Nelly and Hammy are both at awesome ages to get the holiday festivities. And as much as Nelly may say she hated that movie, she's walking around all the time saying, "Smurfity Smurf Smurf." So yeah, I think she had a good time.

Now, if only I could track down a darned pink robot to make sure Nelly's not making Kid-who-isn't-mine's face at Santa next time we see him ...

Tell me how ... to keep my toddler away from the babies

I know it's not Tuesday. Really, I do. I haven't worked since the end of last week, which means I may or may not have brushed my teeth since then. And I most definitely have not gotten dressed or done my hair. But I do know that today is not Tuesday.

However, it can't wait. I have a problem.

Hammy is a sweet, wonderful, loving kid. He's the best. The very, very best. But he is a boy and he is 2, and thanks to those two factors he can be a real handful.

Lately he has been so rough with his little brothers. When they were tiny and fragile, he was so good around them. He'd kiss them ever so softly and he'd sit super still so he could "hold" them. I had worried and worried about my ability to protect the babies from their inquisitive brother, but all of those concerns appeared to be in vain.

Well, not any more.

He's not aggressive or violent; he's just rough. He shows his love by pressing his forehead against theirs -- hard. And he keeps pushing and pushing and pushing until the screaming baby tips us off and we forcefully extract him.

He tips the babies over as though they were sleeping cattle. He bops them on the head with toys. And the wrestling, oh the wrestling. He just loves to topple and turn and spar with them. It's as though he's oblivious to the fact that their squealing is not in delight but instead in true terror.

We've put him in time outs for beating up his brothers. We've rewarded him for "light" touches and sweet kisses. We've talked over and over and over about not touching the babies. And we've tried just constantly keeping them in separate rooms. None of it has worked for us. So what are your ideas? Any experience with a sweet but heavy-footed, strong-headed (literally) older sibling?

Super duper heroes

I'm not sure what exactly they're going to save us from ...


But I have no doubt that these are the heroes for the job.


Man, I love my kids.

Tell me how ... to stuff stockings

Can you tell this is our first official Christmas at home?

I'm not a young buck by any means. In fact, being female one might argue I'm not a buck at all. And while Ben is several years my junior, he also isn't the wee lassie he once was. However, this is our first Christmas not as a student family. It's also our first Christmas home on our own as our own family unit. We're not headed home to see my parents. We're not celebrating as a group with Ben's family. We're just us. The six of us. Ben and I completely outnumbered by the rug rats.

I'm stoked to establish some traditions of our own, but last night I was suddenly filled with dread as I realized one thing: We don't have any stockings. Why did that fill me with dread? Because what tipped me off was a posting of a "steal of a deal" -- stockings for $7. Each. That's supposed to be a steal. That times six is a whole heck of a lot. That times four is still more than I want to devote to felt that's used once a year.

I know that a good, crafty mom would make stockings for her youngens. But I won't be fooled by that, either. Chances are that costs about as much AND it requires talent, patience and time. I have none of those things. I also lack the perhaps more essential element of desire. So yeah, that's not going to happen.

Then there's the issue of filling the stockings. Holy cow, I never before thought about how much of an investment that was. Growing up our stocking stuffers were pretty standard -- we'd always get some candy, new toothbrushes, batteries for whatever contraptions we would be opening. There would be some small gifts like lotions or socks. As we got older we would get stamps and some cash. Then there was all of the stuff I'm forgetting. I mean, those stockings were stuffed. All of that stuff adds up. Quickly. And while we've got a real income for the first Christmas ever, I'm still entirely unprepared to lay down that kind of cash.

Am I being too miserly? Am I missing the joys of stockings? Who out there can restore my Christmas spirit regarding these non-wearable socks?

Tell me what your stocking-related traditions are. Do you have them? Are they new each year or the same ones you/they have had since infancy? What goes inside? When do you open them? Where's the magic that's going to make me say, "Yeah, that's totally worth the effort," or better yet, "That doesn't seem like that much effort after all."

Someone, infuse me with holiday cheer to get me through what I think/hope is my last hurdle in pulling off our first year "hosting" our own Christmas.

Look Who's Crawling 2

Some people celebrate Thanksgiving by counting their blessings, eating tons of food and gathering with family. We did all of that, sure. But Hawk decided that to REALLY rock the holiday he should bust out and start officially crawling.

Deak's been at it for some time now, making him my youngest child to crawl by quite a bit. But Hawk's performance is in no way sub-par; neither Nelly or Hammy started crawling until after they were 9 months, I believe, so he's still quite the little overachiever.

And now? With two of them on the loose?


Well, let's just say the fun has officially begun.

Our Christmas visitor

This is Gandalf. Gandalf Goodorbad.


Gandalf is visiting us from the North Pole. He's a gnome-elf who works for Santa keeping an eye on little boys and girls and reporting if they're naughty or nice.

I thought inviting Gandalf to our home would be a fun little way to prepare for Christmas (read: a great way to manipulate the kids into behaving). I never imagined he'd become such a feared fixture.


See, he absolutely freaks Nelly out. To make him more lifelike, I moved him from position to position around the house when the kids weren't watching. At one point I moved him into Nelly's room. She came out screaming. SCREAMING. Now she thinks he's stalking her and she won't settle down each morning until she knows exactly where he is.

Sigh. Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. And sometimes you terrorize your children.

Tell me how ... to hide Christmas presents

Talk about a smooth move -- Saturday I managed to buy one of Nelly's Christmas presents in front of her and she didn't notice.

And that no doubt is where my good luck will end. I am absolutely mortified that my kids (Ben counts in this category) will find their Christmas presents. I mean, they do have my genes. My sisters and I were notorious Christmas-gift-finders. We never, ever were surprised. I mean never. We would open the presents right under the tree then wrap 'em back up. No shame. And no stopping us.

Sigh.

I don't want that for my kids. I want some magic on Christmas morning. I want surprises. But more than anything I don't want the whining of, "Mommy, I want to play with it now."

So, seasoned veterans, tell me your secrets. How (and where) do you hide your Christmas presents?

Cheap can be cute

We have been blessed beyond belief that so much of Hammy's old clothes have been the right size at the right season for the boys. I mean, considering Hammy was born in August and the boys were born in March, that really shouldn't be the case. But it has been, and we've been so grateful to not have to buy new clothes.

Unfortunately, this hasn't been true with coats. Hammy had fantastic coat that he got for his first Christmas that, to be honest, he probably wore once. And it's WAY too small for the babies to wear. I was planning on just not getting the boys coats and making it through the winter with blankets as needed or my personal preference of staying inside all the time. But then I found these puppies at Macy's.


See? Literally puppies. That's right, they're Halloween costumes. They're Carter's brand, so they're nice. They're soft and warm. They're absolutely adorable and just the right size. And the best part of all? They were less than $3 each.

That's right, two winter coats (and matching warm pants to boot) for $6.


If you think that puppy's happy, you should see his money-saving mother.

I always try to buy winter coats for the kids in the spring -- they're on clearance and I have a pretty good idea of what size they'll need. But since planning ahead like that can be much tougher with infants, I strongly recommend other moms check out the Halloween costumes the first week of November and get themselves a killer deal on an adorable coat.

Sweet dreams

Ben and I, we're classy people. We put hot dogs in our mac and cheese; we leave our kids' toys out in the front lawn (on accident, I swear -- we're still not used to having a front yard). And for the last two months almost, we have been sleeping on the living room floor.


We have a perfectly wonderful bed in our bedroom. Unfortunately we also have two very light sleepers in our bedroom. In a desperate attempt to help our babies sleep through the night, we moved into the living room. It's been a pain cleaning up our bedding every morning and setting up camp again each night. And it's been a pain, literally, sleeping on the hard floor. But it's resulted in hours more sleep every night, so we've gratefully endured.

Nights when Ben's working, I remain classy by making a bed for one on the couch.


But now? Big changes in the Stellmon household. As of today, we are super-DUPER classy. We now sleep on our newly acquired hide-a-bed.


Nothing says luxury like a metal bar down the middle of your back. We are absolutely moving up in the world.

Some day, maybe a year or three in the future, I look forward to sleeping in my actual bed again. But for now? This sure beats the minimally padded, cold, cold floor.

Wonder where he gets it

People often comment that our kids look nothing like us. But these never before seen pictures may change some minds about that.



That's right, people, Ben's genes are most definitely in this pool.

Tell me how ... to get rid of a headache

Headaches are the worst. I've had one for four days now and I just can't get rid of it. Granted, I've taken Tylenol once and Ibuprofen once and that's about all I've done to try to get rid of it. But after it kept me up all night last night, I've decided to get serious about getting rid of it. So, tell me, what are your best headache remedies? (Bonus points if anyone can make a convincing argument that gorging on doughnuts and egg not will cure a headache.)

The day after a night shift

This is what happens when your poor husband gets called in to cover a 12-hour night shift at the hospital on a day he didn't realize he was on call.


You think that's tired, check out the full picture.


Given that Ben's job is part time and our bills are full time, we're grateful for any and all extra shifts he can pick up. But I'm pretty sure tonight (once he gets back from the hospital -- got called in again, but only for about an hour this time) Ben is going to be even more grateful for sleep.

Dumbfounded

A year ago I had this.



The two cutest skeletons in the whole world. I didn't know they were my two boys. In fact, I was certain they were anything BUT two boys. I knew just what we'd name my little girl, and what we'd name two little girls. I thought there was a chance we'd have a little Hawthorne. But a little Deakin? Ha. That wasn't even supposed to be the second boy's name. The second boy (and there was no way there was going to be a second boy) was supposed to be Hudson. But that was beside the point, because there was no way I was having two boys. I even told the sonographer, after reminding her that we weren't going to find out, that we didn't care what we were having ... as long as it wasn't two boys.

Today, I have this.


My Hawk (who was supposed to be a Thorny) and my Deak (who was supposed to be a girl). And I couldn't possibly be more blessed.

I don't mean to leave the older two and my wonderful husband out of the equation -- if I only had one member of my family, any one, I would be the most blessed woman in all the world. But something about the snow falling outside has me thinking about last year when my entire world was rapped up in anticipation for these two precious bundles. I thought I had it so good then. I know I have it so good now.

Whatever potty training nightmares or tantrums in the middle of church we may have coming in the next few years, whatever financial struggles we'll face putting so many kids through college at once, whatever absurd car insurance rate we may get slapped with down the road, I know that right now I've got it good. I have the two best babies ever. I have the two most obedient and helpful "big" kids. I have the greatest husband, friend and companion who also serves as the best daddy. And I have a good, happy, secure life. I get to be a wife. I get to be a mother. I get to be a woman. I get to be me.

The last year has been good to me. I am dumbfounded by just how good.

Date with Hammy

I wouldn't say I dated a lot in my younger years -- I'd say I dated a hecka lot. I can say that in a non-braggy way because (a) it's not bragging when it's an indisputable fact, and (b) the reason I dated so much was because I always paid and let's face it, guys would put up with just about anything for a free meal.

Just because I've been married for six years does not mean my dating years are over. I've got three sons. That gives me plenty of opportunities to treat a young buck to dinner.

It wasn't dinner or a movie or anything fun, but yesterday I got to take this little goofball on a one-on-one date.


Sure, a trip to the pediatrician's office and Walmart doesn't seem like that great of an outing. But really, it was. We sang songs on the drive there. We played with the bead chasers at the doctor's office (man, that kid loves those things). At Walmart we counted the Christmas trees. And on the drive home we enjoyed the cookies he picked out as his special treat for being so good at the doctor's office. It was wonderful.

Our home isn't as crowded as many homes, and to be honest sometimes our family feels really small. (I'm sure that will change when my three little boys grow into three huge, gallon-of-milk guzzling teenagers.) But I truly relish any opportunity I have to spend one-on-one with my kiddos.

Here's hoping Deak throws up for another day or two so he and I can take a romp out to the pediatrician as well. (Well, OK, maybe I don't wish for that. But you know what I mean.)

Tell me how ... to make the world's greatest S'mores

One of my favorite traditions is coming up. I'm a little bit excited.

As I've boasted about before, our Thanksgivings rock. Every year on the night before Thanksgiving we pitch the tent in the living room and have a family slumber party. To add to the "campiness" of it all, we have chili for dinner and s'mores for dessert. Yep, the best preparation for a huge turkey dinner ever -- lots of beans. Our extended family just loves spending the next day with us.

A few years ago we had the greatest s'mores ever. They were Schwan s'mores, and oh man. Let me say that again for emphasis -- oh man. Unfortunately, Schwan is no longer in the s'mores business. Tragedy, really. Tragedy and travesty.

Since I can't have those, I'm turning to you for alternatives. Give me your best s'mores or s'mores-like recipes. Personally I'm looking for something on the cleaner side, but maybe someone else would appreciate your goo-tastic suggestions. So share whatever you've got. I'm thinking this year I'd like something cupcake-ish or maybe cookie-esque that still retains the basic characteristics of s'mores. But I can be swayed by a good recipe and strong argument.

And go ahead, be jealous of my awesome tradition. Or better yet, steal it and make it (or something like it) your own.

Weekly competition

Ben and I are blessed with our unique working situation.

Plenty of parents both work. But we haven't met too many parents who, like us, are spoiled rotten to be able to work our schedules so there's no overlap. Don't get me wrong, it has its challenges -- it feels like someone is ALWAYS working. But it's wonderful that one of us is always home with the kids.

Because of that arrangement, Ben and I have devised a bit of a competition. Yep, a competition. Because isn't that what child-rearing is all about -- proving who is the better parent? Each day the parent who is on Home Duty (vs. Work Duty) has the opportunity to earn points. For every load of laundry done, that's a point. For other household chores like mopping the floor, tht's a point. If the house is clean when the Work Duty spouse comes home, that's a point. And for every outing, such as taking Nelly to dance class, boys in tow, or heading to the park for a change of scenery, that's a point. Basically any good thing that we need a little extra motivation to do, we get a point for doing it. However, for every 20 minutes of television the kids watch, we lose a point.

At the end of the pay period (two weeks) we compare points and the winner gets a treat of her choice ('cause let's face it, I never lose) from the winner. That could be a Frosty or a pint of Ben and Jerry's -- whatever the winner wants. The loser gets to have one, too, but he has to pay for it out of his pay check. Plus he doesn't get to choose.

It's a silly little thing, but it's fun. There's certainly a lot of strategy involved -- how many Laundry Points dare I squander on Television Deductions in order to take that nap I so desperately need? How many outings can I lump into one trip -- dropping Nelly off at preschool, visiting the park with the boys, then hitting the recycling center on the way home -- to rack up points with the fewest amount of car seat loadings possible?

I feel so blessed to have a husband who shares in the household responsibilities 100 percent. He really is a stay-at-home dad who also works 12-hour shifts 3-4 times a week. I feel as though our kids are extra blessed, too -- they get to spend quality time with just their father in a way that almost no other kids do. But more than anything, I feel totally psyched to get a 24 Karat Cookie milkshake from Pretzel Maker when I pulverize Ben this pay period.

No babies were injured in this photo shoot, I promise

My babies are cute. I mean seriously, seriously cute. For reals.

Each month I look forward to taking their pictures on our big recliner. We have loved this tradition (thanks again, Boogs, for the inspiration) with all of our kids. However, once they get to a certain age, getting the picture fast enough is a challenge. Getting the picture with two of them on the move? Well, sometimes it goes something like this:

Cute babies. Smiling. But uh-oh, one is starting to move.


Crap. He's REALLY on the move.


And plop.


Still smiling. We're OK.


But this photo shoot is definitely over so Mommy can snuggle some wiggly sweethearts.

Hot commodity

My little girl is the best. She's funny, she's smart, she's kind. She's super fun to be around. So it's no surprise to me that she's well-liked by most if not all of her peers in preschool.

I didn't realize until yesterday, however, just what a hot commodity she is.

I had a rare opportunity to take Nelly into school myself (normally I have all of the boys with me, so I call her teachers and they meet me in the parking lot and take her downstairs for me -- sooo much nicer than making my way down and back with all those car seats and kids in tow). We went in and took her coat off and put her name tag on, and I was just turning to go when a little girl came skipping over.

"Hi, Tonnelle. Will you be my friend today?"

Cute. Adorable. But something wasn't quite right about the exchange.

See, during this verbal exchange, there was an actual exchange going on. This little girl slipped Nelly three silver coins.

Nelly sized up the coins as though counting their worth, jingled them for a second, then smiled. "Sure, I'll be your friend today."

Turns out Nelly's been charging this little girl "$100" a day to be her friend. Nelly assured me it was just play money, which apparently made it OK. But this poor little girl has been paying up day after day after day to be Nelly's friend. This particular day was even her last day of school, and so Nelly charged her a special fee -- three coins instead of the usual two.

Hmmm. Do I frown upon this for obvious reasons or do I just accept that my girl has high self-worth and knows how to market herself? Hmmmm.

Tell me how ... to look younger

One of the sweetest individuals I've ever met, dear sweet Tami, sent this question.

"I am about a week away from my 31st birthday and starting to notice the tell-tale signs of aging on my face. You know, crow's feet, laugh lines, sun damage ... ugh. And they are just getting worse with every passing year. So I was wondering what products or home remedies your readers use to slow down the visible signs of aging, or maybe I should give up all together and embrace my lines as a sign of wisdom. Obviously I know sun screen will help the sun damage but other than that I am clueless."

She sent this last week -- her birthday is actually THIS week. So as a nice collective birthday present for Tami, let's give her all of our best age-defying beauty secrets. She added that she doesn't want to spend a fortune, especially on products that might not even work in the end. So what are the things you've actually tried with success?

Halloween 1, 2, 3 and IV

When I was a kid and Halloween landed on Monday, we celebrated Monday and that was that. So when in the heck did Monday Halloween turn into four days of non-stop trick-or-treating madness?

Not that I'm complaining.

The kiddos loved every second of Halloween. Even the lame stuff, like carving pumpkins. What can I say, Ben's the traditions guy around here. I'm the woman who stands in the background and shouts, "Don't make a big mess doing that."


Nelly and Hammy were great helpers.


Deak and Hawk loved being involved, too.


And there I was. Pretending the mess wasn't bugging me.


It was. It really, really was.

We had three dinner parties, one trunk-or-treat, two parties and a bunch of trick-or-treating in the four days of Halloween. Lots of chances to show off our cute kids. Lots of fun.

We had our pride of lions.


Ben dressed up as Daniel. No one got it.

Our boys had their clearance Walmart outfits.


But their costumes were my pride and joy -- Clark Kent and Superman.


Yeah, no one got that, either. But it doesn't stop me from being insanely pleased with myself.

One holiday down, a whole slew of 'em to come.

Tell me how ... to graciously send people home

A friend, who asked to remain anonymous, sent me this question:

"We don't have people over very often, but it seems like whenever we do they come and stay long past their welcome. How do you kindly let someone know it's time for them to leave?"

Honestly, I think she sent this as a hint to me. I am the WORST. Whenever I go to someone's home, I have every intention of getting in and getting out -- always leave 'em wanting more. But when it comes to it, I either lose track of time or feel like I'm obligated to stay longer when in reality my host is probably watching the clock and dying to be rid of me.

So how do you appropriately let someone know it's time for them to go? And on the other side, how as a guest do you help get yourself out the door in a reasonable amount of time?

Tell me ... what Roku channels to get

This is Veronica. Ronnie for short.


She is our Roku, and oh, how we love her.

If you're unfamiliar with what a Roku is/does, go here and watch the demo, then come back to this conversation. Go ahead. We'll wait.

OK, now that we're all on the ... you didn't watch it? I was serious. OK, well, for those of you who can't follow directions, I'll tell you that the Roku is a instant streaming device that you can use to watch stuff on your television. But the demo video is much cooler than that explanation, so you really missed out.

Anyhow.

We love our Roku. We were already instant streaming Netflix through our Wii, but this gives us even more options. We can watch Hulu Plus (which we actually don't subscribe to but we salivate over the prospect someday). We listen to Pandora. We could watch free movie channels (we don't because we can't filter out by rating like we can on Netflix, but it's still cool that we COULD watch movies on free movie channels). And my personal favorite -- we get the Mormon Channel. While that means movies and General Conference (both live and after the fact) and music, it also means Mormon commercials. And I don't care who you are, those are a hoot and a half to watch sometimes.

We also get the BYU channel, which is exactly what you'd get on cable but it's free. So for you BYU sports fans (booo, hiss, GO UTES!) we're talking all the games streaming into your home on your television for free. And for me it means occasionally "Anne of Green Gables" is on. I'm a fan of that. If LDS isn't your favorite flavor of religion, there's dozens of other faith-based channels to choose from as well.

And there's more than that. The news station I subscribe to has Anderson Cooper 360. ANDERSON COOPER 360, PEOPLE. Sure, it's always at least a day old and it's just the audio. But Anderson Cooper's voice flows freely over my television speakers. As do all my beloved voices from my pals at NPR. No matter where you get your news from, it's probably free on Roku -- Fox News, MSNBC, Al Jazeera in English -- all of it. It's AWESOME.

The Roku has been a great addition to our family. We strive to not watch too much television, but this has given us some better quality television to watch when we are watching it. And it's free. I mean, after you purchase the Roku it's free. Sure, there are some channels you have to pay a subscription to. And some of those are totally worth it -- I don't know how much it costs, but one of the channels is Major League Baseball. All games, all the time. How heaven-on-earth is that?

And I know there are other great channels out there. So that's what I'm asking all of you -- what channels do you get on your Roku that I should check out? And if you don't mind sharing, how much does that channel run you each month?

If you currently pay for cable television and you're looking for a way to trim the fat in your budget, I HIGHLY recommend this option. And if you're like us and you've never had cable, this is an affordable way to pretend you do.

So go ahead, fellow Roku-users, tell us about your awesome channels. And if you know of other awesome things like this out there, share the knowledge. And while you're at it, someone make a compelling argument that will FORCE me to finally carve room in our monthly allowance to get Hulu Plus. Oh how I want it. And oh how I don't need it.

Tell me how ... to select an inflatable mattress

(What?! TWO "Tell me how's" in one day? That's right, folks. I have lots of questions this week.)

Our carpet sucks. And I don't mean it's lousy. No, I mean that it drinks up the babies' spit up (and other bodily fluids) like it was a luke warm, semi-flat caffeine-free Pepsi. SLURP.

Sleeping on the floor is uncomfortable enough. Sleeping on a floor that you know is saturated with twice-regurgitated formula? Not the best night of sleep you're ever gonna get. Probably pretty close to the worst, in fact.

And why am I sleeping on the floor, you ask? Fair question. A bit ago we shuffled the rooms ... again. Now Nelly's in one room, Hammy's in the other and the rest of us -- that's right, all four of us -- are in the third room. The situation has drastically improved the big kids' sleeping (read: they finally are). But it's wreaked a bit of havoc for the babies and the parents. Maybe especially the parents.

So most nights we wind up in the living room. We try to share the couch, but we just don't like each other well enough to sleep in that close of quarters for very long. Sometimes we pull the mattress out of our room and into the living room before the babies go to bed, but it's a two-man job so we can only do that on days when neither of us has to go to work early in the morning (meaning about four times a month). So the hard, cold, infested floor it is.

One possible solution is to buy a steam cleaner, and we're looking into that. But that doesn't do much for the hard and cold part of the equation. So our next thought was to buy an air mattress.

But what do you think? Is that a worthwhile investment? Do those of you with air mattresses use them often enough to justify the expense and storage space? And what kind of air mattress should we be looking for? We'd want something that inflates quickly and quietly, something that deflates quickly and quietly, something durable enough to withstand being set up and taken down every day.

My personal price philosophy is I'd rather spend more money on something nice enough to last and nice enough to be glad you have -- if I can get an uncomfortable, barely functional air mattress for $20 or a comfortable, does everything I need it to do air mattres for $100, I'm gonna shell out the $100. But in that same vein, I really don't want to spend a lot of money. So thoughts on where to get a good air mattress at a good price?

Ideas would be appreciated. Or, you know, if you have a spare bedroom and wouldn't mind us shipping a kid or two to your house each night, we'd take that, too. :-)

Tell me how ... to get mysterious spots out of the laundry

We do a lot of laundry around here. That does not, however, make us laundry experts. In fact, I'd say we're quite ignorant to most things laundry.

One thing we're clueless about -- why is it that some of our clothes wind up with weird oil-like spots on them? It's been happening for a while now. There doesn't appear to be any rhyme or reason to it -- no specific loads it's happening to, and never multiple articles in one load. But every 10 loads or so it seems that a shirt or two comes out with a spot. It just looks like it's damp, but it's not.

It's been driving Ben nuts for a while now, but only yesterday did I realize it happened to my new favorite shirt, the one I have washed exactly ONCE. Ugh!

So ideas on what's causing the spots? And how might we get rid of them?

They must share genes or something

When I was pregnant with the boys and people would ask what I thought we were having (since we didn't find out until the blessed delivery), I would always say that as long as it wasn't two boys we'd be just fine. Well, I still think we're going to have a run for our money when we have three toddler boys ... and three teenage boys ... and three grown men boys. But right now I think having twin boys is absolutely aces. But maybe that's just because I'm spoiled with THESE twin boys.

There's Hawk, who is easy on the eyes and quick with the smiles. This kid is happy, happy, happy. I woke up this morning to a symphony of "Mamama (spitting) mamamama (raspberry) MAAAAAAAA!" (And no, the kid obviously can't talk -- he just is making that noise.)


And then there's Deak, also dreamy and super wiggly. He's our mover, so we weren't surprised that he was the first to roll over and the first to crawl. He's also the first one up ... in the middle of the night. And again a few hours later. And again a few hours later. He just rolls around too much to stay asleep.


Individually they are absolutely adorable. But together? Forget about it.


And if their sweet little faces don't make you wish you had your own matching set at home, their awesome brotherly talents will. Check out the fun I see whenever they have a bottle.


That's right, check out their legs. More specifically their right legs. Yep, each and every time they have a bottle, that right leg goes up in the air.


I love them for their differences and I giggle with every similarity. We are blessed, blessed, blessed and blessed.

Line in the sand

Nelly wants to wear sweat pants every day to school -- no biggie. Hammy insists on wearing his tutu to church -- fine by me. But this? This is where I draw the line.


I will not be the mother of the kid wearing socks and sandals, ESPECIALLY not when those sandals are flip flops.


Sorry, kiddo. The buck stops here.

Trouble with diction

Nelly is one smart cookie, there's no denying that. Being a super smart 4-year-old with a pretty big vocabulary has its advantages. But every now and then ...

Nelly has been struggling in dance class lately. She really liked her old dance class where they learned real ballet terminology and actual dance routines that they performed at public events. Her current dance class, as yet, does not appear to have the same focus. Nothing wrong with that, but disappointing to our little girl who really, really, really wants to do what she calls "real" dances.

She was so disappointed, in fact, that she's been begging to quit dance class. This was a touchy one. We don't want to force our kids into extracurricular activities. However, when they start something we feel it's important for them to finish. I convinced her to give it one more week -- we'd see if things were progressing more toward what she wanted to do, and if not we would ask her teachers if they would eventually get to choreographed routines.

Well, apparently Nelly took matters into her own hands before I could help her. When I went to pick her up, she was pretty glum.

What's the matter, sweetie? Did you have fun at dance class?

"Yeah, it was fun. But Mom, I asked my teachers and they said no."

Oh, you asked your teachers about the choreography?

Long pause.

"Oooooh. Choreography. No, I asked them if we could do pornography. They said no. Oh, and they said they want to talk to you, Mommy."

Maybe we'll be quitting dance class after all.

Tell me how ... to select a good pillow

I feel like maybe I've asked this before. But my current pillow sucks, so if I did the advice I got probably was lousy. :-)

For the last week, Ben and I have both woken up with the worst cricks in our necks. (What is a crick, exactly? I mean, I guess I should know since I've had so many lately. But still ...)

Given that sleep is still super rare around here, the sleep we do get really has to count for something. So as much as we believe in being loyal, we no longer believe in extending that loyalty to a crappy set of pillows.

So, tell me how to select a good pillow. We know what we like -- I like a really firm pillow and Ben prefers something softer. No feather pillows, as Ben is deathly allergic (and by deathly allergic I don't mean that his allergies will kill him so much as I mean I will smother him to death because his coughing and sneezing will drive me mad).

I have heard nothing of memory foam, but the advertising promises have done their magic to convince me that those pillows are amazing. But does anyone know from experience? Or is there something out there just as good and half as expensive?

Time for pillow talk, people. The comfort of my neck and quality of my nightly four hours of sleep depend on your collective insights.

I-D-A-H-O

We have ourselves some fierce Vandal fans around here. Especially after Saturday's festivities.

Our first outing of the day (and the implication that there was more than one outing in a day tells you that this REALLY was a special occasion) was the homecoming parade. Our entire family got to join in and toss out footballs and pom poms as we, well, paraded down Main Street.

Thank goodness all of traffic was blocked off, 'cause we took up both sides of the road all by ourselves.




(As we were walking back to our van after the parade, I heard three different people gasp, "Wow, two sets of twins." I didn't stop to correct them because secretly I want people to think I have two sets of twins. I know, I know, I need professional help.)

After the parade it was time to grab some naps and get ready for the FOOTBALL GAME! We love where we work. First the hospital gives us the chance to walk in the parade. Then Administration hooks us up with tickets for the whole family to the game. We had so much fun.

Sure, getting everyone from the van to the Kibbie Dome was a 40-minute adventure.


But we had an absolute blast once we were there. We had plenty of friends around to help out with the kids. And with all of the excitement and noise, the kids were pretty transfixed anyhow.



What's the deal with the dress, you ask? Yeah, it's been four days straight and we just cannot get him to take it off. It's always been his favorite anyhow, but why suddenly he can't eat, sleep or breathe without it is beyond us. But hey, it looked like Vandal spirit, so who cares? (And yes, he wore it to church today.)

And speaking of Vandal spirit, the kids have been full of it ever since. I was worried that during a break in church today Hammy and Nelly would stand up on the pew and shout, "I-D-A-H-O, Idaho, Idaho, go, go, GO!" They certainly have been doing that at home nonstop. Nelly keeps begging Ben to hold her up in the air like the cheerleaders did. Hammy has been pumping his fists like the fans in the crowd. Thank goodness through all of this the kids never noticed the players down on the field smacking into each other.

We left before the game ended (40 minutes walk back, after all -- wanted to beat the traffic out), but we definitely had a fun-fiilled day of Vandal Homecoming.

Now if we can just teach our kids to chant, "Who do we hate? BOISE STATE!" I'll be able to die knowing I was a good mother.