Christmas at Home

One of Grant's favorite book characters.

Clint recently told Nicole how much he liked Chutes and Ladders when he was a kid. So when Nicole saw it at the store, she just had to get it for him.

Scotty has a way of personalizing everything.

Thanks Grandma and Papa! A gift to stand the test of time, for sure.
A mouse for a computer wizard.

Anne of Green Gables ... a gift for us to share.

We knew it was coming; no little league soccer here. It's shooting all the way. (Grant got a gun, too.) A few days before Christmas, Nicole wrote the cutest note for Clint:"Dad, can we go shooting tomorrow and can I help you make bullets?"

Grant trying out the wagon.

The kids take turns pulling each other. Even Scotty pulls the big kids all by himself.

Scotty loves the wagon most of all. He sits inside and says, "Ri, ri (ride)."

Bubblegum may have been Grant's favorite gift. He ate his whole package of bubble gum tape that night. I warned him not to, but when he was done, he said, "See, Mom? I no have a sicky tummy!"

Stocking stuffer for a pre-teen. Nicole is starting to recognize different artists and songs on the radio and now offers her opinion on which station we should tune into.

Grant's going through a phase of old-time Disney shows. He particularly likes Donald Duck. He calls him funny (maybe it's the way he talks).

Hey, just what I wanted! No, really. I got to pick out my own presents this year.

This is the first quilt I have ever made. It took me double the amount of time I had estimated, and nearly all of the hours were burning midnight oil -- so as to guard the secret. No more "surprise" sewing projects.

All of the kids playing together with this toy from our neighbors. Once Scotty saw this, he quit opening presents. He only wanted to play. I seriously considered saving his unwrapped presents for his birthday. If Nicole hadn't been so persistent with Scotty, I really would have put them away. That's the bad luck with a birthday so close to Christmas. (Better get used to it now, Scotty!)

Christmas Smells Good at Our House

Sadly, Christmas has turned into the only time in the year when I make sugar cookies, and let the kids cut them out and frost them. I guess it will give them something to anticipate each year.
They really loved it, and I even put a few in the freezer so the mess, er, fun could last more than one night.
It's also the only time I make divinity. The kids always forget what it is ... until they TASTE it. Yum! Nicole calls it white fudge, but it's so much better than that! My mom made divinity when I was little and then quit one year. I always remembered it, and when I grew big enough to make candy, I learned how to make it. Turns out, divinity is a long-time tradition in my family, and my paternal grandfather's mother used to make it every year. I love family history. Now I know where I get my sweet tooth and candy-making skills (although I bet my great-grandma didn't have a Bosch, thereby rendering the whole process extremely more difficult).
In addition to the good eats, we were treated to Nicole's rendition of a jumping jack. I love to watch kids learn new things. Who ever knew a jumping jack could be so tricky?!
And Scotty stands on the table every chance he gets. It's his daily tradition.

Family Christmas Party

Sam and Kalia give a hug (You're the best, cous! No, you're the best! No, you! Oh, stop!)

Nicolette finds slippers (Aunt Sarah tricked Nicole into calling herself Nicolette -- oops! Aunt Sarah .... !)

Susie's cousin gift from Nicole

Suze and Sam (BFF&F&F&F&F&F&F&F!)

Grant got tired waiting for his turn to open a present. Aunt Shari had to rig the drawing bowl so that Grant's name came out next. It's so tough to be patient! (And some things just never change.)

Scotty, uh, I don't know what Scotty is doing. Keepin' it real, I suppose.

Scotty gave his gift a love. Then when we put it in the bath, he wanted to be very far away from the "bath blizzard." No problem, however, big brother and sister don't mind adopting discarded toys.

I blew everyone's mind (NOT) with balloon tying. But I did succeed in scaring the bejeebees out of BB, the dog, with all of the balloon POPPING.

Ty opening his gift in a nontraditional manner. (Nicole couldn't believe her eyes.)

Kalia's new toe socks. Colorful and warm.

Mucho Love

Mom to Nicole: I love you, Nicole. Goodnight.

Nicole: I love you more!

Mom: How much more?

Nicole: All the way to the moon and back. A million times.

(Mom walks around the big bed to where Grant is lying.)

Mom to Grant: I love you, Grantigrew.

Grant: I love you more than Nicole. (Grant says with a giant smile.)

Recent Stories from the Babies

At Church, Grant's teacher asked him what he wanted to give Jesus for Christmas. On his own, he came up with, "I will play with Scott." He even told his teacher how to spell Scott's name.

I guess Grant really meant what he said because he's let Scotty play with him several times since then. On one such occasion, Grant and Scotty were playing/wrestling together when Grant fell on top of Scotty, causing Scotty to bump his lip on the floor and bleed. Grant felt really bad about it. Before putting Grant to bed later that evening, we said prayers together. Included in his long list of things to say, he prayed, "And please bless Sott's lip to no bleed."

* * * * *

Nicole is keeping mental track of things that people associate with each of the states. For example, Nebraska is famous for corn. Arizona is famous for cacti (and really HOT weather). The other day, we went to Costco, which is one place where, according to Aunt Sarah, old people congregate when they're bored (the library is another). Anyway, clearly, we were outnumber by retirees ten to one. Nicole motioned for me to bend down to her level, and she asked, "Why are there so many old people here?" I explained retirement and snowbirds, etc. She responded with, "So Arizona is famous for cactus and (hushed tones) o-l-d people." Bingo.

Nine Years and Counting ...

Last night Clint and I both agreed that it doesn't seem like we have been married for nine years. It seems like it was nearly yesterday, and yet so much has happened in that short period of time.

1: trip to Portugal together
2: chocolate Labradors (both since deceased)
3: times a day I thank Heavenly Father for my husband
4: precious babies
5: languages that we speak
6+: years devoted to medicine
7: cars (is this all?!!)
8: moves (in three states)
9: happy, wouldn't-change-anything, years together
too many to count: I love you's

It's funny how when you get married, you think you'll die if you have to spend a minute apart from each other. And then you get married, and the years go by, and then you really become dependent on each other, and you really might die if you couldn't be together. And all the love you had just for each other multiplies to encompass your children.

Six months after we were married, Clint and I bought a cute, little house in Salt Lake City. It was small, and it was quiet. We used to sit on the steps of our back porch on summer nights and talk for hours. Now we live in a much bigger (and louder) house, we don't have any steps outside (front or back), and we communicate through post-it notes on the shower door during the week. I have been thinking, over the past few days, that this phase of life that we're in -- with the babies crawling all over us, acting irreverent in church, giggling in the bath, jumping on us while we sleep -- that this sweet time in our lives together is going to be so short when compared to our total time together. And I was just hoping that one day, when our kids are all grown up, that we won't move back into a small and quiet house. That we can keep a big house, and that we'll just have more family to pile into it. More people to share in the joy that we dreamed about when we first got married. More people to love. Many more years together.

Peace of Mind

On days when Scotty is really "busy," I tell myself, "Well, at least I don't have one of those bland kids with no personality whatsoever. No, siree, I do NOT have that problem, thank goodness. I mean, that type of child will certainly grow up into a boring adult. Now that would be a problem!"

Here are some NOT boring things that Scotty has done recently.

1. Scotty snatched the banana boat from the monkey tracks puzzle. (Grant: "Sott, dat is a zerry naughty baby!" Grant has *never* heard me say that. Ahem.)

2. Scotty loaded the dishwasher for me.I was wondering where Scott's animals were when I put him down for his nap. Once he was sleeping, I opened the dishwasher to do my dishes for real and found this little surprise.

3. Scotty stole Daddy's mail key. Every day when Clint gets home from work, Scotty puts his arms in the air, stomps his feet until he is picked up, smiles at everyone in the room once he is picked up, and says, "Bye-bye." Then he and Daddy go get the mail together. Every day. Always the same. This was the first time that Scotty "made a run for it."

4. Scotty did a funny dance. He stuck his tongue out. He shook his head. He giggled so cute!

Tonight, Scotty poured his leftover glass of lemonade in the giant toy dump truck (which, for some reason has a small drainage hole in the truck bed) and then dragged it across the kitchen floor. I reached for a rag instead of my camera, and I muttered to myself, "At least he's not boring!" (Got that straight.)

Fall Trip: Mount Rushmore

We have been to a LOT of places. We drive almost everywhere we go, and we schedule national parks/monuments into as many vacations as possible. That being said, Mount Rushmore was one of my favorites (behind only the Grand Canyon and Crater Lake). I wanted to put this picture on our Christmas card this year, since the likelihood of capturing a family shot before Christmas is growing dimmer, but I couldn't very well send a picture of headless Grant.

Mount Rushmore is nestled in a tiny, touristy mountain town. The whole town was boarded up for the winter, but it would have otherwise been fun to spend a night or so there. Since it was so cold, we spent about thirty minutes at Mount Rushmore itself (including our time in the visitor's center). Right before I took this picture, Scotty was standing by himself (admiring the beauty of his surroundings?) and a strong gust of wind sent him backwards three feet and nearly knocked him over, hence the tears.
The man who is given the glory of Mount Rushmore is named Gutzon Borglum. I think he had a real genius idea, and a whole lot of talent. I read somewhere (a kids' book, I think) that South Dakota came up with Mount Rushmore to attract tourists. I'll tell you, it worked! South Dakota is a state I would never have visited if it weren't for this incredible monument that takes your breath away at first site and fills your heart with renewed patriotism. Thank you, Mr. Borglum!

Silly, Little Scotty

One time our little baby
Tried to be so very funny
Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Silly, little Scotty!

Scotty's Growing Up

Scotty's first nap in his big boy bed.

Leave Your White Glove at the Door

I have been cleaning, cleaning, cleaning! Deep cleaning, surface cleaning. Organizing. Freezing extra dinners. I have been working nearly non-stop since last night after dinner. And it feels really good to have my house back.

I grew up with an immaculate house. Like amazing, white glove immaculate, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. And my mom did it all, and she did it with seven children and a full-time job. I don't know how she did it. As a kid, I never had a chore list or an allowance. I think maybe, I periodically cleaned my room, but only because I wanted to.

As much as I dream, my house does not even approach the cleanliness standards of my mom's house. If you brought your white glove to my clean house, you would find baby handprints on the walls, bath toys spilling out of the cupboard under the sink, milk drops on the cabinet, Barbie parts stuck down the tub drain, and outdated pictures on the walls. I always intend to get to these things, but by the time I finish scrubbing the shower, Scotty wakes up from his nap. Or Grant scrapes his knee outside. Or Nicole asks for a story. So the little things get forgotten and pushed to the back of my mind where they haunt and nag me until I try to get to them next time.

To cope with the discrepancy between the house in which I grew up and the house in which I currently live, I have decided that I live in a baby's house. It's mostly clean, most of the time, and that's as good as I think I can get it for a long, long while. And it's going to be OK.

Fall Trip: The Many Geese of Rochester

We saw (and heard!) so many geese while in Rochester. Clint brought all of his hunting gear, but was tragically unable to actually arrange a hunting excursion.

I guess since the city is inundated with geese, they decided to make it their mascot. All over downtown, we found artistic geese. We took pictures of most of the ones that we encountered.

This pretty lady was right outside our hotel. She greeted us on every cold and windy outing.

Throughout most of our trip, Grant was on a camera boycott. I had to trick or bribe him for most of the shots. As soon as he saw the camera come out, he found a place to hide. Just so happens that I can run fast.

Nicole and I really loved this goose. It was beautiful, artistic, and fairly realistic. It is located in between the Mayo's Gonda and Plummer buildings. The wings looked like they were made of flattened pennies. They probably are pennies, and given the rate of current inflation, it is probably cheaper to coat a fake goose in money than paint.

In front of the Mayo Civic Center. Grant was with us, too, just hiding.

This goose was inside the fancy mall that lies between our hotel and the hospital. Supposedly it has every flag of every nation in the world. I don't think it really does. We found tons of duplicates. Next to the bird, the artist placed a note book with pictures of the flags and the names of the countries to which they belong. This was definitely the most educational bird display. (Where's Grant?)

One of the days that Clint came home post-call, I just had to get the kids out of the apartment. It was a cold Sunday, but we walked down some new streets and found this Victorian goose who apparantly belongs to that worldwide group of women who buy (and wear) red and purple hats. Rochester even has a red and purple hat store. I didn't go in, of course. I don't wear hats. But if I did wear hats, it would most certainly not be red or purple. And it would never have gold and silver feathers protruding out the side. Then I'd look as ridiculous as this statue. Only a statue is granted a certain amount of artistic privilege whereby such a hat may not only be acceptable, but applauded. (Grant, where are you?)

Fall Trip: Our First Geocache

One of our last family activities in Minnesota was a geocache hunt. Several were hidden within walking distance of our hotel, so we bundled up and set out on a walk. We told the kids we were looking for buried treasure. They were so excited to act like land pirates.
The first one was supposed to be by the river, but we looked and looked to no avail.
Ooh, watch out, Scotty! The water is icy!
(I hope it's not hiding in a booze bottle.)

The second one was easier to find.
Hooray! We did it!
Take a treasure, leave a treasure.