Is this thing on?

So this crazy insane life of mine doesn't leave much time for sitting at a computer. And while I honestly aim to blog more often than every four months, (oh my holy heavens!) sometimes you just gotta do a great big dump of photos, not even in any particular order and call yourself caught up.

So this summer that's nearly over? It has been, and forever will be forever after referred to as the summer of Swiss Miss.

These girls have performed everywhere. It turns out that preparing a singing and dancing program with 5 10-12 year olds takes a ton of time, energy, and general schlepping everywhere.

 We learned more about setting up, dismantling, and driving a float in parades than we ever thought there was to know. (Six parades down, one more to go!)

Their biggest event is yet to come when Swiss Days arrives in a few weeks.

It's a little bit like I have 4 extra daughters for the summer.

I never knew it would be so much work. Honestly. But I look at this and realize it's worth it. Every bit.

 Ashlynn even landed herself on the front page of the Sunday Newspaper after the Days of '47 Childrens' Parade.

We've had other adventures too. In May, Abby and I went on tour with Rocky Mountain Strings. It was three days of buses, performances, and amazing fun.

 

Ian wants to take after his sister.

And he got a haircut, which I fully admit to regretting immediately.

 Max's blonde locks, however, are as long and curly as ever.

June marked our yearly trip to violin institute.

Where Abby played violin approximately ten hours a day,

  And I had a solo on the tublular bells. (Don't ask. My life is weird.)

Ashlynn's 10th birthday was at the end of June. (How she is 10, I don't know. Someone will need to explain this to me at some point.) We had a giant party with 20 of her closest friends and a lot of water.

She asked for and received a bow and arrow set.

Which, as it turns out, she's really good at.

In July, we returned to Torrey for our annual Fourth of July Celebration. This time it included time with cousins, which was extra fun.

Abby gained quite a following when she played her violin on Main Street before the parade.

She earned enough money playing the violin this summer to buy herself her very own iPod. She's very proud.

We've played in the water, and I decided that little boys with swim trunks that don't stay up are my favorite.

And sometimes, we just stayed at home and ate popscicles, because what else do you do in the summertime?

  Oh. And this happened. Which shocked the pants off of me and my husband. Just as I had made up my mind that another baby wasn't going to completely ruin our lives, I miscarried. And miscarriages suck. I'll write more about this another time. 

So there you have it. The summer of Swiss Miss and all. It's hard to believe that summer is basically over and it's back to the school routine next week. We're holding on to our hats and getting ready for another year of homeschooling. And maybe a few deep breaths.

Three for Thursday

1. Three of my favorite Pandora.com stations:
-Glee!  This one has been on a lot lately.  What can I say?  Ian likes it when I sing showtunes at the top of my lungs! 
- Lily Allen, Regina Spektor, Coldplay.  Love it!
- Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

2. Three lessons learned since I have graduated from high school:
- Being the grownup isn't all the fun and freedom that you thought it was.
- You might not ever actually feel like the grownup.
- People are more important than things.  (Still working on this one.)

3. Three people I was remembering on Memorial Day:
- Both my grandmas, one who passed away about three years ago, and one recently.
- My two brothers who died almost three years ago.
- My sister, who lives too stinkin' far away!


4. Three favorite Youtube videos:
-This one.  But be warned, it's a little dirty.  And not at all appropriate for kiddos.  But it's really funny.
-This one has been making the rounds on Facebook.  It makes me smile because I don't remember the last time I slept without at least one little person next to me.
-There are lots of homebirth videos on Youtube, and I probably watched hundreds when I was pregnant.  Love this one.

5. Three bad habits
- Staying up too late when I have to teach lessons at 6:15 am.
- Playing too much on the iPhone.
- Eating just because it's there.

6. Three foods I will NEVER put in my mouth
- Olives
- Cottage Cheese  (I literally just shuddered thinking about it!)
- Shark/squid/eel  I love seafood, but for some reason, that just takes it a little bit too far!

7. Three things that sounded like a good idea at the time
- Buying a tiny townhome in 2008, thinking it was just going to be for a year and a half, two tops.
- Taking Max to Chick-fil-a.
- Taking the kids on a trip when my husband was in Germany.

8. Three things that make me a “mean mom” (aka a GOOD mom)
- Consistent Bedtimes. 
- Teaching responsibility through chores and music practicing.
- Letting them learn some things the hard way.


9.  Three Pictures:

 Ian, helping Mom fold the laundry.  The shot could also be called "Look at my cute dimple!"

 He was supposed to be sleeping.  He didn't get the memo.

This was a house in my neighborhood a few days ago.  Things that make you go "huh?"

10. Three things I'm supposed to do today:
- Teach lots of violin lessons.
- Fold laundry so that we all have clean undies to wear tomorrow.
- Start checking off my "to-do before we leave for Hawaii" list.  It's a long list.  But it's Hawaii.  I can work with a long to-do list.



OK, that was fun.  I got the idea from Wonderwoman, who got the idea from Evelyn, where I'm linking up.  Happy Thursday!

I could probably find the kitchen sink if I looked hard enough

So I lost my wallet.

Not my purse, just my wallet.  And I turned my house upside down looking for it.  Here's the funny thing- my house was actually clean from top to bottom, so it wasn't hiding under piles of shoes, backpacks, dirty clothes or anything else that piles up at my house.

And unlike the other day when my nine year old thought it would be funny to hide the car keys, throwing me into a tearful panic, and leaving me no option except to call the school in desperation, hoping against hope that she had seen the keys when she cleaned the basement, (Do you have any idea what an inept mom I felt like calling the elementary school to talk to my third grader to ask if she'd seen my keys?  Yeah, it was a special motherhood moment.  Except then she had seen them, and had HID THEM, and I felt all kinds of vindicated!) neither one of my girls had seen my wallet.

And then I found it.  Want to hear the bad part?  It was in my purse.  Right where it belongs. 

Want to know why I couldn't find it?

Because it was buried amongst:

~Approximately 40 coupons.  (Someday, I'm determined I'm going to save real, live money using coupons.  It would probably help if I actually removed them from of my purse...)

~3 diapers.  (Yes, they were clean.)

~Two grocery store receipts.

~One brand new pair of toddler socks.  (I don't think I even remember buying those, let alone stashing them in my purse...)

~One small, plastic, inflatable ball.  (Don't knock it.  It was given to Max once when we had Ian in the clinic to be suctioned.  That little ball has entertained all of us at many a doctor visit.)

~Three McDonald's Happy Meal toys.  (I have no idea how those got in there.  Honest.)

~An unactivated Gymboree frequent customer card.

~One matchbox car

~4 Jolly Ranchers.  (How long have those been in there?)

~One of Max's t-shirts.  (If I looked long enough, I probably could have found the rest of his wardrobe!)

and here's the kicker:

~A cord and sensor to a pulse-ox machine. 

There's actually a story behind that one.  Last time we were at the hospital with Max, the very nice Respiratory Therapist, (who I now know by name and who recognized us when we saw her around town last weekend,) offered to let us keep the pulse-ox cord and the attatched sensor.  I looked at her strangely until she mentioned that they would just have to throw it away if we didn't take it with us, and if we brought it with us the next time we were in the hospital, it would save us about $60 or so. 

That's right, folks, all of our hospitalizations from now on will be BYOPOE: Bring Your Own Pulse Ox  Equpment  They might get away with charging us obscene amounts of money just for breathing air in the ER, they might bill our insurance $5 for every pediatric dose of Advil, but we're one step ahead of them.  We're bring our own disposable medical supplies! That's us.  Beating the system every way we can. 

(And how ridiculous is it that I'm actually saving it, because knowing us, it will probably end up saving us money in the not-too-distant future! I can't wait to see the look on the Doctor's face when he or she starts to hook up whichever child is in crisis, and I make them wait while I rummage through my magic purse and produce my own cord.  It will be very funny.  Or at least it is in my head.)

I bet you're jealous that you don't have any major medical equipment in your purse.

And I bet you're thinking I should clean out my purse.  You're probably right.

Pardon my dust...

Hi!

Yes, it's still me! (Is it still you?)

I'm undergoing a complete blog-y makeover here- do you like it?  I mean, I look like a real blog and everything!  A header, a cool custom font, and even a navigation bar! Okay, the links in the naviagtion bar are completely empty, but still, it makes me look like I actually know what I'm doing and stuff. 

Except now all I want to do is play around on my blog instead of actually paying attention to my children, who all seem to think I'm their entertainment director.  Bah.  Did I mention that my husband is gone again?  Because he is.  To Vegas this time.  And now I have four children, two of which are home from school on spring break, and I've heard "I'm bored" more times than I care to count today. 

Is it bedtime yet?

Samoas are good too

Dear Girls Scouts of America:

Thank you for your cookies, really.  We love them.  We love supporting our cute little girl scout who eagerly takes our order every year and delivers them to us with a cute little green apron on.

However, this year, I noticed a problem with my Thin Mints.  Check out the nutrition label:

See that part where it says "Serving Size: 4 cookies"?  Clearly, that's an error.  Obviously, you meant it to say "4 Sleeves."  

It's okay.  No harm done.  You'll be fine as long as you get that fixed for next time, m'kay?  Good.  Thanks for clearing that up.

Oh, and while we're asking, why do Thin Mints taste so much better frozen?  Just curious.

Just in case I need blackmail material in the future

This is what happens when I clean off memory cards that I haven't looked at in a while.  I get some good laughs, and you get a blog post full of random pictures that I thought were funny.

Brotherly love.  Especially when Max spreads that booger he's working on all over Ian.

Ian and Grandpa were very good this Christmas.

One of the many, many, many snowstorms we've had this winter.

This is one of approximately 647 self-portraits we have of Abby.

Now this one is a mystery to me.  Why exactly is my daughter getting beaten with the remote control?  And why is she smiling about it?

Never mind, maybe it wasn't that fun after all.

Now this is a real gem- a picture of the picture hanging in our front room.  (I never promised these were going to be good pictures...)

 There's a baby in the violin case!

 I think I was about 32 weeks pregnant with Ian in this picture.  Frightening.  There's a reason I never uploaded this...

 Max the lady killer.

 "Big Helper!" Max reminds us as he rearranges the silverware.

This is what I wish I was doing right now.  Yawn.  If only he slept this well at 4:30 am, when he's convinced it's morning.

                                                  This is what Ian really thinks of the violin.

Are you sensing my "sleep-deprived" theme?

Could I be any cuter?  Probably not.

Our newest addition

And no, before you ask, I did not get a positive pregnancy test.  (Can you imagine?  Never mind.  Let's not imagine.  Too scary.  I'm going to have nightmares from merely writing the words "positive pregnancy test.")

So now that I've built up the suspense, I present to you the newest addition to our household:

Yes, ladies and gents, it's a clothes dryer.  What's so exciting about a clothes dryer you ask?

Well.  Let me tell you.

It all started Saturday night when my husband was frantically trying to pack for his trip to Singapore.  Much laundry ensued.  I went downstairs to switch the laundry like a good wife and found the load of whites was still wet.  Since I'm a little bit disorganized, scatterbrained, busy, I thought I had maybe forgotten to turn the dryer on. 

Nope.

Two complete drying cycles later, the load of underwear was still dripping wet. 

Wonderful.

Let it be known that at this point, I told my husband he should probably just take the items he needed out of the dryer, drape them all over the house, and let them dry overnight.  He insisted that one more cycle in the dryer would do it.  I have to admit I laughed a little bit when he had to pack his underwear in the suitcase still wet, hoping to find a washer/drier combo in his hotel.

So not only was I without a dryer, I was without a husband.  And without many clean clothes.  And since letting your kids run around naked is considered bad form when it's what feels like 12 degrees below outside, I had to find a dryer.  And fast.

So I did what every good daughter does.  I called my dad.  And begged.

And my sweet father spent most of the day today buying a dryer for me (since he actually lives in civilization!), hauling it up to me in the middle of a huge snowstorm, unloading it, installing it, and loading the other one out. 

It works brilliantly.  Clothes are dry.  And we solved the great "where do the missing socks end up?" mystery.  Because when we pulled the old dryer out we found enough socks to fill an entire sock drawer and enough washcloths and dishcloths to stock up a newlywed.  I was going to take a picture of our findings, then decided that even I wasn't up for being that humiliated.  It was bad, I tell you.

I am celebrating being excited about doing laundry.  And i"m marking the occasion, because that excited feeling is only going to last for approximately one more load. 

And hey, if a broken dryer is the worst crisis I face this week, then I'm not going to complain. 

This is what happens when I haven't had an adult to talk to in a while

Due the fact that I feel about 17 months pregnant, I have a chronic inablility to focus on something for more than about 3.2 seconds.  So a post with coherent thoughts, or maybe even a point?  Not happening tonight.  So here you have it: a collection of the minutiae that is my life right now.  (And as a side note, don't you love that word?  It makes me feel intelligent just to use it.  Despite the fact  that I just had to switch over the Word to use the spell checker so I could actually spell it right...)

My laptop is dying a slow, painful death.  It's very sad, really.  It gives me anywhere from 10 seconds to about 10 minutes of use before it goes black with absolutely no warning or provocation. There's no computer repair money in the budget right now, ("Yes, ma'am, I'll look at your computer, but it costs at least $127 to glance in its direction, and we charge by the blink.) and I'm pretty sure I'll go into a deep state of mourning when it does actually kick the bucket.  Stupid technology.

My second grader's spelling words are harder than the third grader's.  Strange.

Does anyone else hate school fundraisers as much as I do?  The kids come home from school completely hyped up about prizes, prizes, prizes  they can win from selling crappy wrapping paper/overpriced chocolates/collecting walk-a-thon pledges from everyone they know, and immediately start begging to sell/collect/whatever.  What they don't get, (and the lovely fundraising people neglect to tell them) is that everyone else they know is also selling crappy wrapping paper/overpriced chocolates/collecting walk-a-thon pledges, making the whole thing an excercise in fultilty.  You then proceed to try to explain this to your child, whereupon they collapse in a puddle of tears, proclaiming that they're going to DIE if they don't earn enough money to get the free donut coupon and the package of Silly Bands.  Am I a bad mom if I ignore the fundraiser and buy the kiddos a donut and a packet of silly bands?

And while we're on the subject of silly bands, seriously?  File that under the "Ideas I should have had so I could make a million dollars and retire" category.  Sheesh.  I have at least one in depth conversation about silly bands with a child or violin student at least once a day.   On the bright side, the morning routine is running a lot more smoothly with the added bribe incentive of silly bands for good attitudes during practice time.

I went to Babies R Us yesterday, and spent entirely too much time ooh-ing and ahh-ing over every baby supply imaginable.  You would think that this being my fourth baby that I would be immune to all the tiny cuteness and matching absolutely everything.  (Don't you know you're a bad mom if your baby's bib doesn't match her crib bedding?  Don't you need to spend an entire's months' salary so that your newborn can have a crib that she can take to college with her?)  I think there's something in the pregnancy hormones that make you completely hypnotized by impossibly tiny socks in all the colors of the rainbow.  I escaped with my checking account relatively unscathed, although I do admit to buying two little tiny newborn outfits- one with baseballs, and one with seriously cute pink flowers- that will fit the new baby whoever he or she is for approximately 2.3 minutes before they grow out of it.  But every baby needs something new to come home from the hospital in, right? 

Speaking of babies, I have given this baby official notice that he or she has exactly 38 weeks to gestate and that's all.  None of this 40 or 42 weeks crap.  My pregnancies have gotten progressively shorter, so I've decided 38 weeks is about right.  The funny part is 38 weeks puts me right about Thanksgiving Day.  Not a bad day to have a baby, right?  So 38 weeks it is.  Think it'll work?  (It'll take a miracle.)  (Bonus points and my everlasting admiration if you get the movie reference.)

Speaking of babies, again, (you would think I was an obsessed pregnant woman or something!) I have an ultrasound next week to check baby's skull sutures and monitor the marginal previa.  I'm still dying to know boy or girl.  I wondering if it would be so bad to ask them to take a quick peek?  I could just keep it a secret from my husband and everyone I know for the next two months, right?

Max is officially obsessed with the iPhone.  Frustratingly so.  In fact, in his nearly two-year-old brain, I am not even allowed to talk on it, because it is his phone.  So if you are brave enough to call me, be prepared for a lot of toddler screaming very loud protesting going on in the background.  I'm trying to decide if I'm going to try to break the addiction or just give in. 

And just because I can, a gratuitously cute picture of the little iPhone addict.

Because it's important to always be fashionable, even in the bathtub.

Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to.

You've heard about those so-called "Unanswerable Questions?"  You know, like "Why do drive up ATM's have braille keyboards?" and "If 7-11 is always open, why are there locks on the doors?"

Well, I have some unanswerable questions of my own.  For instance....

Why does Max always have to pee on the same spot on floor right in front of the bathtub?  Why can't he just wait and pee when he gets in the tub?  Or heaven forbid, pee in his diaper right before I take it off?

Why does my daughter, who regularly can't remember things like putting on clean underwear, and absolutely cannot process two-step directions, (i.e. "Put on a belt and come downstairs,") never fail to remember that two weeks ago last Tuesday I said that going to the pool would be fun and can we go right now, please, please please? 

Speaking of, why is it easier for my children to be the fairness police by remembering who sat by Daddy last night, who got served dessert first last Tuesday, and who had to take out the last stinky diaper three days ago than it is for them to remember to, say, pick their wet towels up off the floor?

Why is it that the minute I get into a good, satisfying sleep, (a huge rarity for the pregnant woman now as it is!) I'm guaranteed to have at least one if not more of the little people in my house decide they have to join me in bed? 

Why do parents buy their nine year old children their own phone with internet access?  I'm going to be selfish here and say that all it does is make my kids beg for their own cell phones, and that, my friends, just ain't happening.  (And really, does a third grader need her own phone?  Who is she going to call?)

Why, when it takes me 20 minutes to clean a room, does it take my toddler about 30 seconds to demolish it?

Why is it, when we sing lullabies to our son every night, enroll him in semester after semester of Music Together classes, and expose him to violin music every day of his life whether he likes it or not, that the first song he actually sings is the most annoying cub scout song possible?  And why does he have to repeat it 542 times a day?  And why do we need a song about a dead moose anyway?

Why do my kids appreciate macaroni and cheese with little cut up hot dogs infinitely more than the meals that I spend hours planning and preparing?  (Nothing like hearing "This is the best dinner ever, Mom!" when it came out of a Kraft blue box.)

And finally,

What in the name of garden produce happened to this tomato?  Early jack-o-lantern carving practice?  Tomato-sucking vampire?  A case of mistaken tomato identity? 

Never mind.  I don't wanna know.

15 Things to be happy about

Thanks to Becca for letting me shamelessly steal her idea...

Friends who call and, for no other reason than being an awesome person who should probably be translated, offer to take our kids overnight so that we can have a getaway before the next baby is born.  I need to be a friend like that.

The clean house that results from a friend coming over to spend the night.  There are even clean sheets on my bed.  As long as she doesn't open the closets, she should be good.

A walk to the 7-11 in the middle of the afternoon for a Slurpee.  I don't think I've had a Slurpee since I was a teenager.  Mine was wild cherry flavor. You better believe we'll be doing that more often!

Violin students who practice, and seeing the joy on their faces when they accomplish more than they imgained they could.

Bountiful baskets.  Is it silly to be excited about enormous amounts of produce every Saturday?  I hope not.

Thunder storms.

My little boy climbing in my lap to read a story, then demanding that story over and over again.

The (few) moments of peace and giggles when my girls are actually getting along.

Remembering leftovers in the fridge, excited that I'm not going to have to be creative for lunch again.

Laying out back-to-school clothes in neat little piles for each kids, realizing that they will likely never be that clean or neatly folded again.

Hearing that your soon-to-be third grader's teacher emphasizes reading like crazy, and hearing that he has transformed many a reluctant reader into  kids that disappear into their rooms for hours, reading a novel.

Sleeping in until ridiculously late because my 8:00 am violin lesson cancelled.

Text messages.  From anyone.

Watching my violinist daughter win $100 in a talent contest, and feeling (for a minute) that all the hours, frustration and tears were worth it.

The promise of a ward campout next weekend.  It's the only way I can get hubby camping, and the kids love it!

How about you? What are you happy about today?

An update of sorts

How was the Girls' Weekend, you asked?  Ok, so maybe you didn't ask, but I'll tell you anyway.

We stayed here.  (It was paradise, really!)

This massive Elk was our protector- secretly, I think he was laughing at us. 

We did a lot of this. (and if it looks like we were all lounging around doing nothing, it's because we were!)

And we did some of this, (which is more pictures of us sitting around gabbing like crazy with the important distinction that we got up and changed our location!)

And here we are doing more impersonations, giggling, swapping stories, and entertaining ourselves the way only girls can.  My husband was incredulous when he found out we didn't go anywhere the whole weekend.  "You just talked?"  "Yup."  "You didn't go anywhere?  You didn't play any games?  You just talked for the entire weekend?  How boring!"  Except it wasn't.  And as all girls know, you never run out of things to talk about.

Oh, and we hung out in the hot tub.  And everyone stayed fully clothed the entire time.  Including me.  Especially at 2:30 in the morning.  Uh huh.  Yup.

So now I'm home, missing my girlfriends, and trying to re-set my sleep schedule.  And to convince Tom that overnight trips with the girls should be a monthly requirement or so for sanity purposes.

What else is going on, you ask?  (Just play along and pretend with me, okay?)

Well, I had the two incidences of spotting that I wrote about, then nothing.  I then had some wicked contractions that had me reaching for the stopwatch.  Just as I was about to panic, everything stopped and hasn't started since.  Good thing, because we still have months of cooking this baby before the timer goes off.  At the midwife's appointment today, baby is measuring right on, heartbeat is good, and so we're back to business as usual around here.

Oh, and Max is now refusing the binky with all the disdain his 21-month old self can muster.  His  new security object is now this little blue alien.  Whatever works.