Blah Blah Blah

Hey, it's another guest post from Nels. I had to work a little late tonight, and when I came home, this was in store for me:



Those sweet kiddos always know how to put a smile on my face! I'm proud of Clara's new vocabulary. I can see where she gets it!

Thanks Rachel, for giving me the best family in the world!

Day 6 - low angle

I've had a hard time deciding what I wanted this picture to be. I've taken all sorts of low angle shots and not really liked any of them.

But today I found one.

As I finished feeding Clara some bananas, I couldn't help but be enchanted with her tiny little toes.

She is such a darling baby. She is happy and calm and very, very good natured. She likes to snuggle. She is getting SO strong. She has started creeping her way all over the place and getting so mobile. She is also REALLY loud. This girl loves to hear herself talk! :) I love it. She just gurgles and squeals and yells like there's no tomorrow.

Thank you, "Tia" for being our baby.

(Vi calls Clara - Tia, Chia or, when she's trying really hard to say the "L", Talia. It's cute.)

Day 5 - high angle

You would think that a full week after contracting whatever bug it is that we caught, I'd have good news to report on our health. Unfortunately that is not the case. On top of Vi and Clara having this crap, Hazel and Nels have gotten it as well. And Elsie shared her pink eye with Nels. I guess that's what he gets for not washing his hands. :) just kidding. I feel really bad for him. He's miserable.

Lovely.

Isn't this week over yet???

To top it all off, last night I started feeling poorly. Not with this nasty respiratory crud, but my old, familiar, achy friend - Mastitis.

The result of too little sleep for the past three weeks.

Please. Please. Let us be better by Monday. I've got too much to do next week. And my kids really need to go back to school.

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On that HIGH NOTE, I'm going to resume my sporadic photo posting with the HIGHlight of my day. At a HIGH ANGLE.

In an effort to fool myself into feeling well, I made bread today.

Hopefully that will keep my kiddos alive for a few days after I die.

A Resting Place

Finally.

We've done it.

We've made a decision and it's a momentous day.

As I look back on the last six months, I can see the hand of the Lord in our lives. It's subtle. I don't know that I'll ever fully understand it, but I know that it's there.

After my jaunt to Idaho Falls, things have been moving forward quite seamlessly with the sale of our home and we expect to be able to close up on the house within the next month. Hallelujah! I think I'm finally ready move into a new chapter of our lives.

You know, "When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window." At least Maria says so and it seems "that eventually, everything comes back to The Sound of Music." (check it. Ree Drummond and I are kindred spirits.)

We've had a bit of a convoluted time getting to this point, but after months of searching, we've finally found a resting place. :) Somewhere to land. We've found somewhere that can be home. A sweet house at the base of the mountain. It's in the same ward and in the same school boundaries and for that, I am really, really thankful. Thankful to not have to uproot our children yet again. We're only renting, but with five kids, every decision feels like it deserves trumpets. :)

So. Come the beginning of next month, we should be moving. Ready to feel like grown ups again. Ready to rest our weary heads and make a new home.

now i guess i'll have to tell 'em, that i've got no cerebellum . . .

What do you do . . .

. . . when your four year old gets pink eye while you're on vacation?
      Well. You spend an hour in an Urgent Care with a cranky receptionist who is ticked that you came in five minutes before they close. Then you spend half an hour at Walgreen's for them to tell you that your prescription coverage isn't accepted at Walgreen's so you'll have to wait until the next morning to get it somewhere else.

no biggie. just sanitize everyone's hands till they are raw and dry - so that stupid infection doesn't spread to the one year old or the infant that you also have with you. no biggie.

. . . when your one year old develops a bit of a fever and a cough on the eight hour drive home?
      Well, you figure it's probably the Dramamine that you gave her that morning to avoid the puking that happened repeatedly on the drive down.

. . . when you finally make it home and your one year old is burning up and hacking up a lung?
      Well, you finally accept that she picked up a virus while at grandma and grandpa's house and spend the whole night up with her - giving her ibuprofen to bring the fever down and taking her out on the balcony for 15 minute periods to help her lungs relax in the cold night air. You sleep on the couch with her, praying that in so doing you will avoid getting your pink-eyed child also sick.

. . . when your 5 month old baby also develops a fever and cough the same night?
      Well. Then you accept that you will get NO sleep that night. You spend the entire night alternating between taking care of your one year old and getting her back to sleep, only to have your little baby start crying again because she's burning up/can't breathe/really hungry. You feed, medicate, spend some more time on the balcony with her. Finally get her back to a fitful sleep.

Repeat.

All night long. no biggie.

. . . when you've been gone for a week, missed Valentine's Day, and return home on your husband's 32nd birthday with two sick kids? When you're totally sleep deprived from getting up at 2:00 in the morning so as to make it home by lunch time and your husband was up all night working on some freelance video stuff?
      Well. Darn it. You don't end up making him a fancy dinner. You don't end up making him a cake. In fact, you don't even end up making out OR sleeping in the same bed with him.

Umm. biggie.

. . . when at the doctor's office the next morning both your babies are diagnosed with croup?
      Well. You just shoot me. That's what. Because you're going to spend the next three days doing the same thing over and over again. Your baby can't breathe. Your one year old WILL NOT take the steroid prescribed to help her breathe better.

Even after you sit on her.

Stubborn child.

You spend the entire day holding your crying, squirming, miserable infant, trying desperately to get the exhausted toddler to take a decent nap, but the half dose of steroids that you WERE able to gag down her throat has made her act as if she drank a pot of coffee and every time you get her to lay down next to you and just start getting drowsy, your infant wakes up crying after only being asleep for about half an hour because she can't breathe and is burning up again.

You just give up.

The house looks like it threw up, with bags from your trip, goldfish crackers, mac'n'cheese that your toddler threw on the floor. Groceries get left on the counter, because you are so exhausted that your mind turns to mush and you don't realize until after the kids are in bed for the night that you didn't get the sausage and 2 pounds of mozzarella into the refrigerator. You completely forgot to give your four year old the eye drops for her infection for the entire day. . .

. . . and to top it all off, by the end of the evening, your infant has also got a goopy eye.

Just in time for you to gear up for another night of fevers, crying, squirming, boogers, coughing, and sleeping on the couch.

I feel like I need a lobotomy.

guess I'll have to break the news, that I've got no mind to lose





if you've never listened to the Ramones, you should. i never would have guessed how often *as a parent* their lyrics are playing through my mind. :) just go ahead and try to tell me these phrases don't apply to you, too.


"I don't wanna be a pinhead no more."
"Nothin' to do, nowhere to go. I wanna be sedated."
"Well the kids are all hopped up and ready to go . . . they're ready to go now."
"The kids are losing their minds, Blitzkrieg Bop."
"Beat on the brat. Beat on the brat. Beat on the brat, with a baseball bat." Okay. Just kidding. Not that one.
"You can't always get what you want."
"Here comes your nineteenth nervous breakdown . . ."  Alright. Those last two were actually the Rolling Stones.

And I'm digressing.