Zoe's First Christmas

Our very best gift.

We've been Elfed!

Oh my gosh! It wasn't me. It was a RUN BY ELFING! Shocking. Who would do such a thing? Who would have time to do such a thing!? REVEAL YOURSELF, ELFER!

http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/XJGTCQ4Is32ZFov4D6B7

Hee hee hee. Zoe is the CUTEST elf!

Twilight

The Singles Ward Edition.

Twilight Years from Tom on Vimeo.

Cooking

Twinners (female edition)

Big Big Girl

We just measured Zoe - she is 27 inches long. That is OFF THE CHARTS above the 97th percentile! That's my girl. So far as we can tell she's about 15 pounds, 40th percentile for weight. And 999% cuteness.

Twinners

Bumbo Seat

Halloween Costumes

1. Two mad scientists (People kept asking me if I was Michael's assistant... I got annoyed and started telling them I was the evil genius and he was my hunchback.)
2. James the Train ("No, I'm NOT Thomas!")
3. Prettiest flower in the field

She's such a darling little daisy.

Humor

Jed danced half naked upon the couch. Guess who's got a sense of humor!?

She laughed until she got the hiccups so bad she couldn't breathe. I never knew they would be such friends so fast. Zoe has NEVER laughed for anyone like she will foe her big brother.
(Sorry these videos are so bad... always in the dark with my camera phone!)(And now I see the sound isn't working again. Darn blogger, why does it do that with my camera's videos? Oh well, if you want to hear the darling, adorable, delicious laughter that goes along with it, drop me a line and I will email it to you.)

Ruminations Upon Sleep

My sleep training is going well. Whenever I drive home at night, I turn the heater up an give everyone a blanket. Then I pop in our new favorite CD, a Jazz Lullaby gift for Zoe from Paul and Maria, which we just love. It is VERY relaxing. The dark quiet road, subdued tones of The Velvet Fog, and warm air combine in a magical way that almost completely knocks me out. That's right, by the time we get home, I'm barely able to keep my eyes open and the kids are wide awake.

At home, our bedtime ritual still involves bath, books, family prayer, and toe pinches. But why is it that Michael can get away with reading like THREE pages out of a twenty five page picture book? He just randomly chooses disconnected bits to read and then announces "THE END," and Jed totally swallows it. When I try to do that during Quiet Time, we are all protestations and discontent. Today, Jed grabbed the popularly detested "Rotten Ralph's Nine Lives" and disgustedly said, "Mom, I need you to read the lots of pages. LOOK!" He turned to each skipped page and demanded I read every word, pointing to the sections I surreptitiously attempted to forget.

Also, any boring children's book can be improved upon when made into a full family opera.

Also, whining children can be harmonized upon with considerable enjoyment.

Conversation

I lifted Jed up into his booster seat. As I tucked him in, he looked at the cheesy enchiladas I'd prepared and said, "What a lovely meal, Mommy!" I kissed him on the head, sat down and sighed happily. He looked up, sighed in imitation, and said "I love you, too, Mom."

ABCs

19th Century Boy

I love Jed's verbal patterns. He sounds like a little child from Charles Dickens.

"Mommia, Mommia, shall we build a temple now? Shall we? Shall we?"

Yesterday he climbed on to my lap after quiet time. He smiled and rested his head against my chest. Then he leaned back and looked at me with a quiet, luminous gaze. "Mom, did you have a lovely nap?" Yes, Jed. "I'm so glad you had a lovely nap, Mommia."

Maybe we've been reading a wee bit too much Peter Rabbit. But oh, the darlingness!

Listen and OBEY

The other day I walked into the living room, where my poker-faced husband desperately attempted to hold in his laughter. Across the room, my son screeched, body taut, chin jutted out, face purple and stomping in emphasis:

STOP THAT, DAD!!!!!!!!! YOU AREN'T LISTENING TO MY INSTRUCTIONS!!!!
I TOLD YOU TO LISTEN AND OBEY!!!!!!!!

Well, at least we know that after all my careful, gentle teaching, the gist is finally sinking in.

Magnificent

I am grateful for a husband who, upon my arising in the morning, tells me I look "magnificent!" Why? Because when my hair sticks up all over the place, he looks at me with total sincerity and tells me I have plumage like a bird of paradise. :) I love that man.

Yep, crazy hair is hereditary. We used to call Mom the scarecrow. And now Zoe has inherited the plumage. I'll try and get a matching picture.

Breadmaking Assistant

Happy Happy Joy Joy

Autumn

Those eyes are looking brown, aren't they?

Number Two

From the moment of birth, I've been amazed at the differences between Zoe and her big brother.

Of course, her entire life is different. For one, she hardly ever gets to sleep uninterrupted during the day. Jed, passionately in love with his "buddy," can't stand to have her out of his sight for any length of time. She tries to nap in her little chair but Jed's lolling all over her, cooing and bringing her presents and making sure she is keenly aware of every little thing he does. Poor girl. Are all number twos chronically sleep deprived?

Speaking of sleep, my girl is an AMAZING sleeper! After the year of sleeplessness following Jed's birth, during which he nursed every. two. hours. around the clock for at least ten months, I was expecting the same with number two. But by 8 weeks or so she was already sleeping big chunks of the night (5-6 hours a stretch) and she's continued. Still sleep deprived, but I am so much more functional than I expected. She's an angel.

Since I didn't know what I was doing and needed to fill my days, Baby Jed got bathed twice a day: morning and night. Yet he still managed to be a filthy little kid. I'll never forget the day I found a dead bug under his chin roll (gross, huh?) Baby Zoe, on the other hand, gets bathed twice a month whether she needs it or not. Poor stinky little gal. We're too busy playing during the day to mess with baths.

Jed hated to be wrapped up. Zoe loooooooves to be swaddled and has since birth. As soon as you lay her on that blanket and start to pull it around her, she looks up with a radiant, quiet gaze as if to say, "Thank you, Mom, for making me so snug and cozy so I can go to sleep." Then you just lay her on the bed, and for morning naps and often even at night, she'll mutter to herself a bit, squirm, and then having assured herself that she is not going to come loose, drop off into slumber. Looks like a little skinny pig in blanket. My pretty little pink hot dog.

Zoe's been blessed with a lovely little routine from day one, so different from my early transitional months with Jed. Heck, I didn't even know what a routine was! I remember how hard it was to get those naps in with him. When I finally realized he needed two regularly scheduled naps it was like torture being stuck at home trying to fit them in. Nowadays, Quiet Time is always religiously observed. I've become one of "those" moms who will let the world go to heck in a handbasket before missing a nap. With occasional blips in the morning, pretty much for Zoe every day follows the same pattern, and she really flourishes because of it. Mom was right - kids love routine. And now so do I. I cherish our quiet, happy at-home time.

Jed was a very content baby, but more sober. Zoe is all smiles, a joyful child. If you just look in her direction, her eyes light up, and she smiles a cheek-cracking, adoring grin. If you giggle at her, she opens her mouth wide wide wide and smiles and sometimes even blesses the world with her silvery little laugh. I call her my sunshine because that's exactly what she is -- even at 4 AM that smile makes my heart leap for joy. I love to lay on the bed with her at such unholy hours and just talk. She looks right at me, smiles like I've given her the best gift ever just by noticing her presence. We coo and giggle, have a little conversation, until slowly her eyes start to drag shut and in a moment, her eyes button tight, asleep.

My Jed has beautiful pearly white skin, but my Zoe has her dad's warm brown complexion. Jed was a translucent white with light pink cheeks and vibrant blue eyes at this age. Zoe has dark skin, much darker than mine, and murky blue-green eyes. She has short, patchy eyelashes. Too bad, how come the boys always get the dark, luxurious fringe?

In other ways, they are remarkably similar. They are both really, really good babies. Beautiful. Pleasant to be around. Michael says really most of the differences are in us. We've figured out how to make their lives, their needs, just as important as our lives and needs.

Spelling Lessons

My Jed has learned that just about any time we spell something out loud, it means that spelled item is very, very desirable. For example, imagine we are traveling from one boring activity to another in the car. I may say "Daddy, should we go for i-c-e-c-r-e-a-m tonight after the whatever?" Michael would frown, look confused and spell it back to himself several times before figuring out what I mean. Jed, however, will perk up his ears and with shining, eager eyes proclaim loudly from the back seat "YES, MOM, we should have some R-F-J-T-I-Z!"

He even knows what m-i-l-k spells so now we have to spell it l-e-c-h-e.

Another popular one is repeating what few letters he remembers. "Michael, should we give Jed an s-a-u-s-a-g-e for dinner or should he just be forced to eat this disgusting pumpkin concoction I've created?" Jed pipes up "Jed should have some s-u and s-u-s-a and s-a-s-a-s!

I confess that at this point I've started purposely spelling things just to hear what stream of letters will emerge from his darling little mouth. Yesterday, as I made dinner, I told Jed, "Zoe is crying. Go give her some TLC." He ran over and smoothed her head and patted her tummy. "Mom, she is OK. I gave her some S-R-T-M-A."

Potty Training

Warning: This post will have graphic accounts of bodily functions. You are forewarned.

So, you may or may not know that I've been pretty much dragging my feet on this potty training thing. It scares me. Several times Jed has seemed ready, but mom sure the heck hasn't been so nothing has happened. I've watched all my friends potty training their younger, willing, third-child daughters who pretty much do it all themselves, and felt absolutely no desire to potty train my own "sit in his poop til it oozes out all over" "NO, MOM, I'm CLEAN" man-child.

Recently, though, he's started peeing out of his disposables at night and that's just gross so I knew the time was coming. Monday, Jed took things into his own hands. He informed me that he wanted to go pee. Rather lazily thinking to myself that I still haven't bothered to pick up those stickers I "needed" before we really started potty training, I said "so go." "No, Mom, in the potty."
I looked up in surprise. "Oh. OK, uh, let's go."

So we did. And after some cajoling, running of water, and book reading, he went! With the obligatory celebration, and a few chocolate chips, he was thinking this pee pee thing was pretty darn awesome. Back onto the pot he went, and I figured that if we were going to do this we were REALLY going to do this. I gathered my supplies: a few crumpled sheets of leftover "I love primary" stickers from an activity I threw last year (Jed is sticker-deprived enough that any ol' sticker is thrilling at this point), a marker and piece of cardstock to create a fancy-shmancy potty chart that says "Jed's Potty Chart" in uneven letters over a crudely drawn grid, and a few handfuls of chocolate chips. We were in business.

I grabbed the kiddie toilet seat that Michael hasn't had time to install and got a handful of tools from the basement. Yes, now going to the potty also included destruction (and I mean that literally... only after using excessive physical force ripping the old lid off did I figure out how easy they are to properly remove), and TOOLS! Wow, going to the potty really is thrilling! Especially when I get to hold Dad's screwdriver! The rest of the morning was a series of frequent fake outs (I did it mom! No you didn't.) interspersed with enthusiastic cheering when WE ACTUALLY DID IT!

Finally after five hours Jed asked "Mom, can I have a diaper now?" and feeling rather exhausted of potty training myself I happily agreed. We diapered him up and headed upstairs for lunch.

Today was potty training round two. I figured out at some point on Monday that the key really is being completely bare naked. It's easy to pee in Thomas the Train underpants no matter how many times mom stresses that Thomas really really really hates to be wet. But having pee running down your legs and spattering all over mom's carpet really does catch the attention. Today he was over on the far side of the basement while I exercised near his little red potty. "MOM! I'm peeing!" he shouted in alarm. "Run, Jed! Run to the potty!" Boy did he run but the poor kid, by the time he got himself situated, didn't even get a single drop in the potty which was extremely disappointing for all of us, especially mom when she went to investigated and realized that a running, peeing little boy makes for a whole lot of, um, bouncy spray for lack of a better term. What a mess! (Or as Jed would put it, a big ol' messy mess.)

Mothering sure is an education. Never as a daydreaming youth did I picture myself sitting in front of a toilet for hours on end thinking "This is really all I have to do today. Just sit here and verify the pee." Not glamorous, but at least there are plenty of chocolate chips.

Zoe Laughs

Random Recent Family Moments

Zoe laughed, a real laugh, for the first time last week. She laid on the floor beneath me as I did pushups, kissing her little nose every time I lowered myself to the floor. She reached up, grabbed the earbud cord hanging from my ears, looked up at me with a big open-mouthed smile, and LAUGHED! She looked positively mischievous, as if she knew how naughty she had been.

Jed loves to read. He'll haul out a big stack of books onto the couch and hang out there for hours.

Michael enrolled in an online programming class, since he's so bored with his other responsibilities working full time, parenting two small children, fixing up our rickety old house, traveling the stake for YMs, cleaning up disasters instigated by his accident-prone spouse, etc.

Last night Jed told me a story. The froggy went to the pond and he and his mom put on their swimsuits and jumped in. He caught the starfish. There was a little girl named Penny and she put on her swimsuit and jumped in. They played everywhere inside with their suitcase. They played outside. They played in Penny's garden, it was a flower garden. The frog went up the tree. Etc. etc.

Zoe has a new nickname: "Kickstart." Because she is always kicking her little heels in the air, and one especially as if she is kick starting a motorcycle.

Michael has been doing a project for the board of directors and he got to ride in the corporate plane!

I want to start sewing again. I painstakingly cut and carefully sewed according to directions a shirt for myself. I even measured to make sure the *ahem* recently augmented bust would fit, and even added a half inch for my broad shoulders. I finally got it done far enough to put it on yesterday. I can't even get it over my shoulders! It fits like one of JED'S shirts!!! How is that possible?!? I am cursed. Fortunately, I am familiar with this curse. That's why it was a practice run made out of some really ugly violent magenta velveteen I got for free. The universe may have it out for me, but I can still outwit fate on occasion. I still want to start sewing and remain undaunted. Zoe needs some violent majenta pants.

Why do people in Indiana park cars on their lawn? I am serious, often you'll see three or four cars parked in the middle of someone's yard, just in our neighborhood!

Also, it rains a lot here. The only place I've ever lived where your shoes get filled with water walking across a lawn.

Michael's been working a lot lately, and Jed misses him. Several days last week Jed insisted on wearing a tie, on top of whatever else his outfit was for the day, so he'd "be like dad." It's quite the look layering a red tie over a yellow and blue striped polo shirt. He cuts a wide swath.

Jed also often heads "off to Walmart for shopping, Mom." He'll come over in his tie, barfcase in hand, "I need a kiss!"

My Cool Dad

To quote my bro Eric's facebook status:

My Dad is playing Tennis in the National Senior Games in St. George. He and his partner just beat the no. 2 seed of the tournament 6-3, 6-3. Pretty sure that means my Dad is just plain cooler than yours.

Pink Pink Pink

They were all so cute I couldn't decide so I put them all up. Her smiles are just too irresistible.

A Working Man

Today, Jed is a working man, with his wallet, helmet (stocking cap), tools (pick-up sticks) and "barfcase" (5 gallon food storage bucket.)

Zozy

For most of my pregnancy, Jed emphatically declared that the baby would be a sister. When I was 7 or 8 months along, one evening we sat at lunch. Jed, tired before an imminent nap time, crumpled his face and started to cry. I asked him what was wrong.

"Mom," he said, "I need my Zozy."

"What do you mean, Jed?"

"I need my Zozy, I need my baby sister."

Funny, because we always, always referred to the baby as "Baby Z." But he knew all along it was his Zozy.

Unbearable Cuteness

What could be more dull than a Mormon Mommy blog with nothing but posts of smiling children and raves about their cuteness? I don't know, but this is it.

And she is SOOOOOOO CUTE! *squeal!*







Pictures from the last post were taken two weeks ago. These are from last night. Michael complains that the first and last photos look the same, but I say he misses the subtle shades of perfection exemplified by Zoe's cheeks.

Smiling

Baby Z Stats

7 Weeks

Weight: 11 lbs 3 oz (43rd percentile)
Length: 24 inches (87th percentile)
Cuteness: Infinite

For comparison, at birth she was in the 9th percentile for weight and the 33rd for length.

Yup, she's got her momma's appetite!

Feeling Better

Poor Michael still suffers, but Jed and I are bouncing back. Roseola'a gone and an antibiotic has worked wonders for his mood. Best part is that after a week of hardly eating and dropping to 26 pounds, now his appetite has returned and he's working on covering those ribs back up.

Evidence:

Yesterday for breakfast he ate 7 bowls of cereal and a plate of sausage.

The day before, 13 silver dollar whole wheat pancakes.

Today, 2 eggs, a piece of heavily buttered whole wheat toast, a cup of spinach-apple smoothie, a cup of half and half, a bowl of applesauce, handful of prunes, and a whole banana.

And a snack two hours later.

Lightning

Over the years I have attempted many times to take pictures of lightning, and failed every time. Until last night, when we had a real proper lightning storm. Probably one of the more violent storms electrically we have experienced here in Indiana.







This one made me jump out of my skin.


Our kitchen @ midnight.

Daddy's Shoulder

We've all found Daddy our pillar of strength and comfort this week.


Remember this?

I don't think I'll ever tire of seeing my babies on my good man's shoulder.

Just One Week

1 tired kid
1 fever almost 103
1 allergy-ridden momma
1 cranky toddler
1 neglected, wailing infant
1 unidentifiable rash
1 strangely swollen gum
1 momma with a bad cold
1 case of roseola
1 screaming, flailing trip to the dentist
1 overdose on ibuprofen
1 call to poison control
1 blessing, caring, cheering husband
1 dinner from a dear friend
1 jar of nyquil
1 tired family looking forward to the long weekend

Year Four: Romance

Baby's eyes squeezed shut tight in slumber, Jed quietly zoomed cars around on the couch, and Michael and I giggled as we sneaked into the bedroom for an anniversary moment. Nothing like some good old fashioned smooching on a warm sunny bed.

Just as things started getting good, a head popped up at the base of the bed. "Whatcha doin' Dad?" We ignored the head.

A few moments later, we passionately kissed as a two-and-a-half year old screeched about three inches from our faces "STOP THAT, GUYS! STOP THAT!" The mantra continued as we studiously focused on our osculatory practice. Soon a flop onto my back and moist hands prying our faces apart. "Stop! Stop that, guys! Stop it!" A wail came up as Michael shoved Jed off my back. We broke apart and sighed.

Then grinned. We grabbed the kid and started kissing him.

Lincoln Boyhood National Memorial

Since our anniversary weekend ended up a spectacular blur of church obligations, Michael and I declared this to be our "Birthday and Anniversary Celebratory Weekend!" Michael took Friday off, and for our anniversary we packed up the kidlets and took a family vacation to Lincoln Boyhood National Memorial. Armed with plenty of snacks and pbj sandwiches for lunch, we drove the 45 miles through misty green fields nestled between billowing forested hills.

The Memorial commemorates the 14 years when young Abraham Lincoln lived here in Indiana. In the early 1940s, the CCC built a gorgeous visitor's center building, with giant stone carvings depicting key events in Lincoln's life.Here we are in the Memorial. Jed loved running around the big empty rooms and grassy front lawn. Must have run a hundred miles that day. And I might add that he did NOT fall asleep on the way home. Sheesh. That kid is impossible to wear out.
Oh we are cute.
Mommy and baby nursing in the corner.
After seeing a short film, we went to see the living history farm, where costumed characters live, farm, cook, and grow their food just as the Lincoln family did back in the 1820s.

We walked through the corn fields, all plowed by horses and sown by hand.
Jed loved all the wooden tools, animal pelts, and the chicken coop in the background. But the bigger livestock, not so much. Sheeps and cows and pigs are all well and good in the abstract, but in real life, he didn't want to get too close. I finally wheedled him over to feed the sheep, which worked well until a big woolly head shoved through the split rail fence and tore the weeds from my hand. Jed shot straight into the air and wailing insisted "WE SEE CHICKENS NOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!"
My favorite moment occurred as we stood watching the cows and sheep, cicadas buzzing in the hot sweaty air. In the background, we heard a rumbling. A truck pulling a doublewide drove past the back side of the feedlot. We smiled. That's life in Indiana--hot hot hot with cows and a doublewide.

As we started herding Jed towards home, we heard a sweet-toned whistle. "Whooooo!" Then again. A train! Jed's ears perked up and we started to run towards the track. A real train! Right here beside us! We saw a little red engine break through the trees. As we came close, it slowed down... and stopped right there at the end of the little road. A hairy little man hopped down and shouted towards us "Would your little boy like to see the train?" My jaw dropped. We laughed yes and ran up to the train.

As Jed got to the stairs, the bearded man leaned over to lift him up. Ummm, yeah, unfortunately Jed doesn't do hairy men so well. His eyes widened and he flailed toward me, wailing. And he wailed the entire time on the train. Oh well, Dad and I thought it was cool. And Jed did too, once we were far, far away and the hairy man had faded from memory. The best part: the train's name was THOMAS. Here we are, on an old fashioned farm, with Thomas the Train. Could this day get any better?
We bid goodbye to Thomas and had a picnic lunch there in shady trees next to the track. What a lovely, perfect day!