The post Christmas lull

Hello world, are you alive? Glad to hear you survived the Christmas holidays. We did too. Mostly. Christmas Day was awesome, but Christmas Eve night was even better because Madeline decided to be awake for most of it. In desperation we let her sleep in our bed for the first time since she was counting her age in months. In return for this generous gesture, she kicked us a lot. So no one got much sleep. Well, Kimberly did. So she woke us up at like 5:30. Silly girls. But other than the lack of sleep, Christmas was great. The girls got everything they wanted and a lot of things they didn't know they wanted. Kimberly was super excited and just bounced up and down for an hour going "wow wow wow wow wow wow wow wow wow!" Madeline kept trying to open all the gifts she bought for other people because she thought they were for her. Jessie finally got to open his belt, and for good measure, contracted an awesome cold. Good times were had by all.

Because we were all sick and tired this week, we decided it was a good time to turn the girls world upside down and traumatize them, so we switched them into new beds. Actually, we've planning to do this for a while because I knew both girls were getting new bed sets and so we set Christmas as the deadline. Otherwise I'd still be procrastinating it in a year and poor Ali Baba would be sleeping in a bassinet until he was three. Surprisingly, they have handled the transition well, and Madeline is now in a twin bed and Kimberly is in a toddler bed. I thought Madeline would start a mutiny at any disruption in her routine and that moving a thirteen month old into a bed would result in a lot of escaping, but neither doomsday scenario came to pass, and both girls have been sleeping better than they have in weeks. Go figure. The next step is moving them into the same room, but I feel leery that our good luck can continue, so Jessie will be engineering that adventure. I'm just in charge of manufacturing a baby for the now vacant crib. Lucky me.

Well, we'll leave you with that until our highly anticipated New Year's post, for which I have to think of some new year's goals. I'm thinking lose twenty pounds by the end of February. And/or get more sleep. Too ambitious? Yeah, I thought so too.

Merry Christmas, and to all, some more sleep

Merry Christmas everybody. I know, I'm a bit early, but let's face it: I'm in no way going to blog on Christmas. Or even tomorrow. So you all get your bit of Christmas cheer now. We've been done with the shopping and baking (ha! baking! we're pretending there was some of that going on this year) and all the decorating and whatnot for a while now, because I didn't want to fight crowds or be stressed or forget anything. Only now it's two days until Christmas and we have nothing we need to do, which feels a little weird, and a little stressful, and I'm almost tempted to go get something meaningless from the store just to fight crowds and feel like I'm being productive. The house is mostly clean, thanks to a couple Christmas parties I was forced to clean for, the presents are wrapped, and the kids are sufficiently cranky and sleep deprived to guarantee barrels of fun. It's okay, because it's giving me lots of practice waiting impatiently for something to happen which I'm sure will come in handy in February.

We are excited for Christmas though. I'm ridiculously excited about the presents we have for the girls, and I hope they get excited too. Kimberly has gotten some practice opening presents so I think she has the idea this year, as long as she's opening someone else's present before the actual day. Madeline, of course, gets it completely, and knows exactly which presents under the tree are for her, how many chains she has to take off before Christmas morning, and how many chocolates she is allowed to consume every day. The only thing she doesn't get is the idea of a secret. Two seconds after we wrapped Jessie's gift she was yelling across the house, "Daddy! We have a secret surprise belt present for you! It's a surprise! It might be a belt...?" So I'm glad I didn't let her help wrap many presents. All of our ornaments are on the top half of our tree because Kimberly has a problem staying away from shiny round objects. And our Christmas lights get turned on and off twenty times a day, so if you drive by our house, we're not signaling for help with Morse code. Just celebrating, the Warner way. Hope you all have such a Merry Christmas. I wouldn't have it any other way. Well, I wouldn't say no to having the holiday involve a little more sleep. But other than that. Just perfect.

This too is supposed to pass.

So I realized I spelled adios incorrectly in my last post. It's been bothering me for a week, but not enough to go fix it. Embarrassing. I crave your forgiveness for not being a native Spanish speaker. A poor excuse, but there you go.

I know you missed us. Don't mind my long absence. We were just celebrating our monthly week of sickness. This time it was stomach flu. The joy and excitement we experienced were abundant. The girls got it first, and then myself, and then Jessie. Odds are pretty good you've had the pleasure of making its acquaintance recently if you live near us, so there's no need to explain all the fun details. But at our house it was a nasty bugger that put you in constant misery for about 6-8 hours and then left you wiped out for a day or so are that. Good times. Anyway, that's pretty much dominated our week and left little time and motivation for fun things like blogging, cleaning the house, or living. We did, however, manage to pull off a family white elephant party in the aftermath, which was fun, and included such gems as a pet rock and a shave and play Barbie. You are totally jealous right now.

Before/during/after the stomach flu, we had anther fun plague called Attack of the Tantrum, which mostly involved Madeline losing all sense of reason, independence, and sanity. Temper tantrums over everything, waking up twelve times a night to throw more temper tantrums, tears and hitting and defiance, needing help and supervision for every menial task and activity, and did I mention the tantrums? Our house is a little short on sleep, patience, sanity, and peanut butter. One of those is not Madeline's fault. As for the rest, we're at wit's end on how to restore our child to the rambunctious but lovable and manageable child she once was. We're guessing it has something to do with her father and insecurity about her status as queen of the world, but we'll let you know when Freud gives us a definitive diagnosis. In the meantime, pray for our eardrums and our neighbor's eardrums.

I throw my hands up in the air sometimes.

Hey ho. I feel like it's time for an update on life, but there's also nothing really specifically important I have to say either. We've been busy, but most of it is non-blog material. I know, I blog about pregnancy and potty training, so my readers must have strong constitutions. But even I have my limits, and I feel our secret practices to join the Russian tightrope specialists are best left out of the public eye. I don't want to disappoint though, so let's see what Warner hijinks we can release to the press, shall we?

Madeline continues to be a delight, in that she alternates between making me laugh hysterically and testing my patience to the utmost limit. She has become master in procrastination, and is finally starting to skip naps regularly. At the most opportune time, as per her history, because just as she's eliminating one nap a day, I'm looking into adding a few, and this results in a real scheduling conflict. In her defense, it can't be easy getting stuck in the house a lot because your mother's energy levels are about on par with a sloth. We're exploring new realms of mother daughter fighting, bonding, and sumo wrestling. All in good fun.

Kimberly has decided to be grown up. I routinely forget that she barely turned one, because she wants to do everything Madeline and I do and is pretty good at most of it. She still only says a few words, but she repeats a lot of sounds and tones and makes herself understood pretty well. She runs, climbs, wrestles, gets her own snacks from the pantry just like her sister, and pretty much rules the roost. Either I've forgotten what Madeline knew at that age, or it's true that the second child benefits from an older sibling's example, because she just constantly amazes me with what she understands and can do. I'm thinking of selling her to the circus.

Anyway, there's some crumbs for you. We'll just be hanging around, waiting for Christmas and attempting to better ourselves with fine literature and gourmet ice cream. Audios.

It's still November, not December. In case you were confused.

Hey all. Happy holidays. We've just been enjoying the days off and eating too much. We got out our Christmas decorations Friday morning, and the girls had a merry time decking the tree. Madeline put all the ornaments on one low laying branch and Kimberly threw colored balls around the front room. It was very festive. Jessie did step in and redistribute the decorations a little more equitably so our tree wasn't so lop-sided. We also did a little Black Friday shopping, which consisted of waiting until all the crazy people had gone home to sleep and going to one store at three in the afternoon to buy a bunch of non-sale items. Perfect shopping trip. I detest early mornings and mobs, so this is how we roll, and we love it.

I also had Jessie take another documentary picture, although the scenery is now season appropriate, because we take time to make this a merry exercise just for you.

This is me just shy of 29 weeks. Apparently I alternate between looking and feeling nine months pregnant and still just looking fat, which is awesome. I have started getting some comments from strangers in public, so I like to think I'm justified in my griping to Jessie everyday about how awkwardly large I feel. A magical transformation occurred about two to three weeks ago and I became acutely aware that I'm in the final third. I am now complaining of leg and hip pain to Jessie, going to extremes to avoid bending over, getting full much too quickly and hungry again even more quickly, and other fun third trimester things. I'm also getting kicked a lot more frequently, which is good and bad. It's never too painful because I'm pretty sure the placenta is in front blocking most the force. Or this boy is just a wimp who's going to get walloped by his sisters. Probably. But there's still a lot of good time I can almost forget I'm pregnant, so we don't have to surrender to despair and woe just yet. The holidays should still be pretty comfortable. I don't feel any rush to get anything done before a baby comes, because we have the basics (crib, onesies, diapers, car seat) and figure anything else can wait. After all, it really doesn't take much to keep a baby alive. Just some milk and a pen to contain your other children. So we're just going to chill the next few months, endlessly praise Jessie for picking up the slack on the housework, and be blissfully ignorant of any coming responsibility. I love this plan.

You and Me Baby, We're Stuck Like Glue

So I've been feeling pretty lame the last few days. Every year, I show my love for my dear husband on our anniversary by writing a heartfelt, exceedingly awesome, sometimes tongue in cheek post for our special day. It is definitely his favorite part of the occasion. He hates getaways, dates, presents, kisses, and all that stuff, but give him a good blog post and the romance is alive. Unfortunately, I am late this year. I hang my head in shame. I offer up as excuse croup and advanced pregnancy. We did celebrate on our actual anniversary, croup and all (thanks mom, for staying up all night with my sick kid! You know you love it!). So we are not completely lame. Just sort of. But since this year is a big number, or as big as you can get when your marriage is still younger than a kindergartner, I hereby humbly offer up a belated toast to our awesomeness. Five big ones since we tied the knot and got stuck for eternity, and we're still rolling! Breaking records right and left! Pretending to be grownups! Buying houses, paying loans, having careers and repopulating the earth! Good times. In honor of the event, I wrote this poem about Jessie. It rhymes and everything.

Jessie, Jessie, he's my man,
If he can't love me no one can!
Roses are red, violets are blue,
Jessie is cute and I am too.
There once was a boy from Lehi,
He liked to drink grape Nehi.
He likes his wife, he has a great life,
And semi decent wifi.
Knock Knock! Who's there?
A really patient, helpful, loving, tolerant husband.
Jessie who?

Okay, so that last part doesn't rhyme, but I don't know if you've heard, poetry doesn't have to rhyme anymore to be genius. I am simply ahead of my time. Anyway, I could wax eloquent for several more paragraphs, but we don't want to kill you with our mushiness and extremely moving and long story of love, life, and general silliness. So I'll just say this: In all seriousness, I have an amazing husband. I don't like to brag so I don't give him all the credit he deserves publicly all the time, but he really is so good to me and I'm still a little blown away I got so lucky and fell into this great life with him. I can honestly say he makes me incredibly happy, and I feel like any woman who can say that about her husband is doing pretty well for herself. So Happy Anniversary, Pookie Pie! And Happy Thanksgiving! And Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah! Merry Kwanza! The last five years have been one big holiday anyway. Let's keep it up and continue this party forever. And a little bit more.


(requisite photo of us, because we are beautiful, humble, refined people who you cannot get enough of)

An essay on our health.

So we get sick every month for about one week. I blame nursery and suppressed immune systems. November was no exception, and perhaps in celebration of cold weather and the coming of winter, it was worse than most months. We got hit with some colds that really took us out. As usual, this is what the sickness did to us: Madeline had very few symptoms other than a slight cough at night and a barely runny nose, but she was excessively cranky and disobedient all week. Kimberly was only slightly cranky but had a bad runny nose and cough, and woke up a lot at night because she was congested. I got slammed with headaches, sore throat, sinus pressure, fatigue, and other fun stuff. Jessie got it later than the rest of us and pumped himself up on iborofen and cold medicine and survived with a slight sore throat. That's usually how it goes every month. But this month instead of being wiped out for one day, I was unfunctional for about three or four, after which I cracked and went to the doctor. I love doctors because they tell you helpful things like "It's viral. It'll get better sometime. Good luck." So I stocked up on medicine for everyone and chocolate donuts (because I think the doctor meant to prescribe me some but didn't through typographical oversight) and we settled in to wait it out. Only when we went to Kimberly's year checkup, the doctor pronounced double ear infection. Missed that. Whoops. Apparently Kimberly is a tough little bugger and doesn't like to complain. But after a round of antibiotics all around, we're hopeful better days are coming. And I'm thinking about returning to the land of the living, after I put my house back in order.

But enough about germs and drugs and our laziness. Other than Kimberly's infections, she's a healthy little punk. Tall and skinny though. 90th percentile in height and 25th for weight. The doctor reccomended copious amounts of peanut butter, cheese, and other fats if she ever wants a chance to star on the Biggest Loser. Madeline begged for but did not receive a shot and had to content herself with checking out Kimberly's bandaid. She tried to invent a myriad of mosquito bites and sores when we got home to solicit her own bandaid, but the lack of blood did her in. So she had to settle for some leftover birthday cake and watching Cars for the tenth time. Poor girl.

One year older and wiser too

You lucky ducks, you. More pictures! We're making an exception to our rules to celebrate the milestone of this little bugger:

Kimberly Leona Warner has survived a year of life and become quite the little cutie in the process. We're a little enamored with her. Who knew she would make herself so indispensable in just a year? We;re pretty sure we're extending her probation period by at least five years. Here's a little about our little ball of sweetness.

Kimberly enjoys waving hello and goodbye, stuffed animals and dolls, suckers, and break dancing. She can say dog, dad, mom, hi, and yo! that's my candy, hands off! (That one sounds a little like gah! Na na ga na! But to the discerning ear, this is not a problem.) She likes to do whatever older sister is doing. She likes carrying around shoes and dirty laundry. She loves dogs and fish. When properly fed and rested, she is rarely cranky and very smiley. She can be a little clingy because she knows her mother and father are the coolest people on the planet and she doesn't like to lower her standards. She can walk, climb, drink from a straw, and kiss (open-mouthed, so beware). Basically she's adorable and we are a bit addicted.

On to the birthday festivities! Kimberly was most agreeable about wearing a princess crown to appease me, because I thought it was pretty adorable.


Kimberly's favorite present was a pair of baby dolls and a stroller. Now she can be just like her older sister. She was literally hyperventilating. She was just so pleased and exited. It was ridiculously cute and contagiously funny.


After that, we had the requisite one year old cake destruction party. Kimberly was pretty pleased with that as well. After a while she gave up stuffing it in her mouth and just squished it everywhere. Huge mess. Again, ridiculously cute. I only regretted it a little when I cleaned it up later and Kimberly and her bewitching manipulation were safely tucked in bed.


Basically, it was a good evening, enjoyed by all. Madeline was in heaven helping make the cake and wrap the presents, and coincidentally, it was also her baby doll's birthday today. Crazy. We're sure glad Kimberly has been around the last year. She brings a great element to our family and we can't imagine life without her. We feel pretty smart for having such a cute, smart, happy child. Sometimes we amaze ourselves with our good ideas.

Our official photo edition.

So we actually used our camera a bit this month! I know you are beginning to be astonished. As the lucky recipient of our proactive visual spree, you can now enjoy the fruits of our labors and marvel at how photogenic the Warners are. No need to thank me. Just knowing you're all focusing your attention on us is gratifying enough. Enjoy this year's picture spree, because we all know the next installment is wildly unpredictable.


Here is Jessie and Kimberly looking adorable. We let the girls out of their cave one day and took them to the park. They were very grateful and shocked to see the sun.


Madeline just being cute. Don't let her fool you. It's all an act to manipulate you into giving her whatever she wants. Works pretty well.


So not everybody always gets what they want around here, as evidenced by Kimberly's dismay. She is currently upset I'm not carrying her around and feeding her chocolate. Poor girl.


The requisite pregnancy photo. This is 25 weeks. I am starting to feel pregnant, starting to get tired, and starting to wonder what it was ever like to look normal sized and stuff. I think that means the third trimester is almost upon us. Hooray.


We carved pumpkins to be festive and teach Madeline about sharp objects. Jessie was very ambitious and his pumpkins (he also did Maddie's) looked amazing. I was not ambitious nor creative nor talented, and my pumpkins ( I did Kimberly's) looked like pumpkins with holes in them. Great Halloween spirit abounded.


Kimberly enjoyed eating the pumpkin. And swapping around all the lids. Jessie enjoyed helping her do these things.


So speaking of Halloween spirit, we all enjoyed our costumes. Jessie was Luke Skywalker, Madeline was Rapunzel, I was Little Bo Peep, and Kimberly was my lost sheep. I have to tell you this because despite our grand photo spree, I forgot to take pictures. I got this one of Jessie and Kimberly after our ward trunk or treat when everyone else was already changed. She was pretty much the most adorable lamb ever- I can't deny it. Sorry if your kid was a lamb. You'll get over it though if you just stare at the cuteness for a while. Jessie and Madeline were also impressive, but you'll just have to imagine. I just looked like a fat pioneer, if you need help visualizing, so you didn't miss much.


Here are the girls being adorable, because I can't pass that up. Madeline likes to talk about their matching Cinderella dresses. Kimberly likes to eat her own appendages.

Here's a closeup of those cute pony tails. We tried it a few weeks ago and haven't done it again since because they kept coming out. But we got evidence first that she looked amazingly irresistible. Really I just can't stand how grown up she looks.

And there you have it. Real live photographs of our family, doing what we do. I hope it was everything you dreamed of. Until our next paparazzi edition.

The Warners reach new levels of coolness.

I got really excited about cold weather and the prospect of staying inside, bundled up in quilts, sitting quietly and reading or some such nonsense. Until I remembered that three year olds and almost one year olds do not sit and snuggle for longer than about four and a half seconds. Also, they can't read. And I think I heard somewhere that letting your kids watch 24 hours a day is bad parenting. Must be some new-fangled research. So now I'm trying to remember what we did last winter to keep the kiddies entertained and myself sane. I think it involved having a baby, sleeping on the couch a lot, and letting Madeline watch a lot of movies. So that is totally not my game plan for all winter. Just four days a week. The other day we have to go grocery shopping.

Did I mention that Kimberly has reached new heights of talent? She's been stepping for a month now, but now she's officially walking. She found her confidence about five or six days ago and is now pretty proficient at upright transport. She is not so good at running yet, but since she tries to keep up with Madeline, she falls down a lot still. I keep telling her that hard as I try I've never been able to keep up with Madeline, and she might as well quit now, but she apparently has the youthful energy and determination I lost somewhere around week two of my marriage, so she'll keep trying until she succeeds or dies. And since Madeline likes to "help" her walk, it might be the latter. Kimberly also feels that walking entitles her to new privileges like access to all the cupboards, the stairs, the drawers, and all the other places she had not previously discovered. So maybe we'll spend the winter remembering how to child proof the house.

That's it for today. Kimberly returned to one of her early morning wake up kicks this week, and it's made me a zombie. That and she likes to wake up all night and throw her binki under the crib and yell until I come shimmy under there with my pregnant belly to retrieve it. Not a cool game. I bought her a binki clip to end the fun, but she still likes to yell just to see if I'll come, and since her stamina exceeds my own (see: youthful energy and determination above), she usually wins because I just want to get a little sleep. So maybe I'll go do that right now. Until Madeline needs something urgent, like the answer to one of life's great questions, or a popsicle.

Momma said there'd be years like this.

Some days this parenting schtick kicks my trash. Or maybe some weeks. I'd admit to some months, but let's not ruin my reputation. We've survived sleep deprivation, tantrums, hitting, teething, destruction, messes, and various other catastrophes, and we're still alive and kicking. But I think Madeline just hit puberty and it's going to kill me. Seriously, when she actually becomes a teenager, just hit me over the head with a stick and wake me up when I have grandchildren. I was expecting a few more years of complete Mommy adoration before she figured out I'm not perfect and started exploiting that. The defiance levels at our house are code red. When I'm not being ignored completely. Or hit. Or breaking up fights among the peasants, mostly instigated by Miss Three and a half, because Kimberly is a pretty smart baby and rarely begins a confrontation she knows she is going to lose. Also, Kimberly is easily distracted by just about everything, whereas Madeline has learned to hang on to her grievances with a scary tenacity which I blame on Jessie (but he'll tell you it's all my fault, and he might be right. Just don't tell him that.) Basically, I have not the first idea how to balance independence and obedience, and affection and discipline. Last year I was pretty sure I knew at least a tiny bit about these subjects, or was confident that through study or trial and error or some other process I would learn. I'm pretty sure in the last two weeks I've become a disciplinary agnostic. If that's a thing. Madeline is probably going to grow up to be a homeless bum. Or a politician. If I had any energy left I'd be thinking up plans to negate these outcomes, but instead I've accepted the inevitability and am consoling myself with Ding dongs and the hope that I get a Parenting for Dummies book for Christmas.

Also, on a somewhat related but mostly random note, I'd like to register my alarm that everyone on television gives birth naturally. And screaming. Seriously. Also, labor on television takes an average of twenty minutes to two hours. As a pregnant women, this makes my hormones unhappy. Not all laboring women, drugged or not, are raving screaming monsters. I have enough parenting esteem issues raising a three year old. Please cut me some slack and start showing more women on epidurals happily watching CSI and eating green jello. That's all I ask.

A little bit of absoutely nothing.

Somehow my life got away from me and a week passed, and I have no idea what happened. Which is great when you need something to blog about. So I'll just basically be making stuff up today. You have been warned. Let's begin with a picture. Because whenever I make the effort to be decently dressed with my hair done, we get to take out the camera. The camera is sadly underused.This is us, just shy of 22 weeks. Don't mind the chaos. We just wanted to paint a realistic picture of our life for posterity. Kimberly is teething, so she doesn't like being ignored by both parents long enough to take a picture. Or she may be concerned about getting clobbered by her loving sister, who is unfortunately struggling with pushing, hitting, kicking, sharing, listening, obeying, and many other unimportant life skills. Fortunately for Kimberly, right now Madeline is struggling with concentration rather than physical violence. Probably saw a Pokemon or something. Oh, and there's me, being all pregnant and stuff. For fun, let's take a look at this picture as well.

Oh, the contrast. I knew there was another picture somewhere that looked somewhat similar. Only minus the circus. This is me pregnant with Madeline. Only I'm pretty sure that's less than two months before I gave birth. Whereas now at the same size I have over four months to go. I just love being large. And surrounded by my entourage. What a short few years will do to you. Different house, different furniture, different circumstances. That is the same ficus tree, though. Because that's how we roll. We are fiercely loyal to our fake foilage. Or just cheap.

Other than that, we are alive. I am enjoying the cold weather. The rest of the family is not. Phooey on them, I say. I want it to start snowing and not stop until March. Because maybe that will kill off all the orange cones that are native to our soil. We're looking forward to Halloween. If we make it that long. We might die of sugar poisoning or toddler induced hysteria before then.

Frogs and Snails and Puppy Dogs' Tails

So once we found out it's a boy, I suddenly felt motivated. I've had no inclination to start preparing the baby's room or prepare baby stuff because frankly, the room is occupied. And all the baby stuff is out. But a boy...oh boy. I suddenly felt the need to have everything ready-the room, the name, the wardrobe, and it has to be done today. Which is totally irrational, because we kind of have over four months until any of it will matter. But try telling that to my hormones. So yesterday I started going through the newborn baby clothes to pull out anything neutral and pack away everything pink, purple, frilly, lacy, and flowery. And man, was that emotional. Because I am completely ridiculous. Let me clarify: I am ecstatic it's a boy. It's supposed to be a boy. I feel really good about a boy. But I am terrified of boys. As I put away everything feminine I felt like I was losing my footing. My little boy can't wear pretty dresses. Little adorable newborn babies that fit tiny shoes and bows and onesies are supposed to be girls. I can't wrap my head around this foreign idea. And I felt like the era of girls was being wrested away from me. What if those tiny girl clothes never come out again? Rationally I know they probably will, because we plan on having several more children, but you never know what life will bring. What if my future is blue? See how ridiculous I am? I was basically having a nervous breakdown in Kimberly's closet. I had to take several deep breaths and remind myself that I have two beautiful girls, including a wonderful baby girl, that I can dress up in pink and frills to my hearts content. Who will buy prom dresses and wedding dresses and high heels and be girly. And boys will be awesome too. And we will have free lawn mowing in ten to fifteen years. So everything will turn out all right.

Fortunately, my mother and sister have taught me the proper way to deal with emotional breakdowns, and I grabbed my Kid to Kid gift certificate and went out to get psyched about little men. Turns out the little boy's section is awesomely reassuring. I bought a bunch of onesies and outfits that say manly things like "Daddy's Team" and "Football" and have pictures of balls and dogs and come in blue and green. And I felt a lot better. So never fear, we're still psyched up about a boy. I just might be a little bipolar until he's here and I can hold him and realize newborn boys aren't a different species. Just a different chromosome.

The verdict is in...

Well, here we are. Two weeks later, as promised, and I believe I owe you some information. Hold on to your hats, ladies and gents. The Warner household is about to up the ante. Apparently it is about 306 percent positive that our little one is all....boy. That's right, boy. Apparently Jessie has some manliness to share. He is very satisfied, of course, because he is sexist and would have been heartbroken at a femal fetus. Haha. Just kidding. He's a sucker for girls and romantic comedies, as we all know. But he is super excited to have a boy. I think he's probably online buying BYU football tickets for ten years from now. I am also quite thrilled. The last few weeks I've been having a hard time not referring to the babe as a He, and last night dreamed that it was a girl and started hyperventilating because it was all wrong and it was supposed to be a boy. It just feels like a good thing. Also, I started thinking about tiny little boy's suits and ties and got a little bit worked up. Dratted pregnancy hormones.

The only downside is that we have almost no boy names we like. As usual, we won't be disucussing the names we like with anyone, but this time it will be a bit easier, because we don't have any. Probably we'll name him Fredette. Or Josh Lyman. Or maybe Benjamin Franklin Hawkeye. So many options. And while I'm pondering the many possibilities, I get to go boy clothes shopping. And figure out how to make a pink bouncer look manly. Maybe I'll just put a sign promoting breast cancer awareness on our front door, and then I don't have to redo anything pink. I love supporting a good cause and getting to be lazy at the same time. I have a feeling a boy is going to be a lot of fun. I just hope he doesn't mind getting his nails painted.

Trucking along. Woohoo.

Hello again, my faithful few. Time for more exciting Warner exploits! In our last episode, we were looking forward to the many adventures of September. Unfortunately, my immune system continues to be fickle, and I seem to catch every sniffle and cough that comes around. Also random shoulder pain that incapacitates my arm. But that's another matter. On to the good stuff! Besides dying, we've been having a blast. Guess who is learning to walk? Everyone's favorite Warner almost toddler, Kimberly! She's not actually to walking capacity yet, but she took her first steps and she can be persuaded to take up to five or six at a time before she succumbs to your enemy and mine, gravity. Why we are encouraging these rogue activities is beyond me, but there you go. Some irrepressible parental urge to prepare your child to outrun predators probably.

Since I only blog every two years, I know you are all dying to see if I have turned into a pumpkin yet. Here you go:
I feel like I'm getting bigger, but more slowly. Not inflating like one of those rafts on an airplane. Life is pretty good, because I'm feeling pretty good for being pregnant. Definitely a little more energy and almost zero nausea, which is excellent. And the baby is starting to move, which I forgot how much I love. Go second trimester. Well, except the whole not sleeping thing. Because I have to be turned like a pancake every two minutes. Also because the baby has found my bladder. Also because my toddler likes to fall out of bed frequently. And scream. But hey, in good news, only two weeks until we identify the gender chromosomes on our growing life form. Excitement and expectation abound. I have no idea. No inclinations, no burning desires, no visions or intuitions. Jessie has no such qualms and says it's a boy. Feel free to weigh in. Whoever can accurately guess the gender, estimated gestational age, number of ounces of liquid I'm going to consume before the ultrasound, the name of the ultrasound tech, and the color Jessie's face would turn if I successfully tricked him into thinking it was triplets, wins a trip to our house and an afternoon of fun with my children. Let the fierce competition begin!

A post to end August and usher in an era of awesomeness.

So I don't want to jinx myself, but I kind of feel like I'm in the land of the living again. The nausea left weeks ago, but apparently my immune system thinks pregnancy=vacation, so I spent most of August being sick. A really long nasty cold, a lot of stomach pain, and just general yuckiness and lack of will to function. But I actually got up and did some things the last few mornings. My floor even got mopped, which says a lot. I did some non essential cleaning tasks. Jessie was impressed. We'll see if it lasts. I'm glad it's almost September. I'm done with August.

Oh, by the way, in case you haven't been able to tell from the last few posts about ME ME ME and Baby, I have some other kids. They're pretty cute. I'm starting to enjoy them again since I have energy to play with them and they somehow found it in themselves to start sleeping in until 6:30, bless their little hearts. We took Kimberly to her nine month appointment and she got poked a lot, which she didn't like at all but Madeline liked a lot because every time she got poked she got a bandaid. She ended up with four and Madeline had fun counting them the rest of the day, while Kimberly had fun having a fever. And not sleeping. Kimberly is thinning out, by the way. It appears despite her chubby babyhood she's going to be exactly like Madeline: long and skinny. She was 75th percentile for height and 45th for weight. And healthy, which is the main thing.

The girls also enjoyed a couple of outings this month. We took them to the dinosaur museum and farm country at Thanksgiving Point because it August and it's cheap. Madeline loved all the dinosaurs, although we had to assure her they were all dead and wouldn't be eating her after Jessie may have insinuated they wanted to consume her whole at the start of the outing. They also both enjoyed the pony rides at Farm country. I believe there are pictures of all these marvelous childhood memories, but they're all on Jessie's phone so they may or may not ever make it into the light of day. Just imagine it was awesome. Because it is always awesome when the Warner family graces the public with our presence.


Anyway. That's the scoop for today. I leave you with a picture of my children to prove they are alive and well and surviving my lack of stellar parenting. Actually, mostly because I think they're cute and worth looking at. That's all we do all day around here. Sit and watch our kids and wait for them to amuse us. It's like having a couple of active puppies that do tricks. And tell jokes. And jump through flaming hoops. Except they substitute each other for flaming hoops because we don't let them play with blow torches.

Everything you ever wanted to know.

So. We've been busy around here. Want to hear about it? Great. I thought so. Basically, we had a wedding. Then we went to the ER. Then we went to Provo. Yep, that's about it. Now we're going to tell you more. Because you know you want it.

Last week my little brother got married. Madeline has been super excited about the event for the last month. She got to be a flower girl, and she loved her pretty dress. We all wore purple and yellow and ate food and tormented my brother and things went pretty nicely. Then they were married and we all went home. That's about what happened.

Then Jessie and I were planning a little vacation. We wanted to ditch the kids and go down to education week at BYU for a few days and relax and have no kids. Basically. The plan was to take off Wednesday morning after my doctor's appointment. So naturally, on Tuesday night I started getting horrible stomach pains. Which is always great when you're pregnant and paranoid. I told myself to tough it out until morning, but after neither Jessie or I getting any sleep we finally went to the ER at one thirty in the morning. Which is the absolute best time to go, because they have CSI marathons on TNT and you have plenty to do while you're not sleeping. So Jessie took the girls home while I sat at the ER for four hours. After some morphine and a bunch of tests they decided they had no idea what was wrong with me and sent me home. So we got home and rolled back into bed about 5:30 in the morning. Let me tell you, I have never attempted an all-nighter before. It was so much more awesome then I imagined. Then, being the smarty pants we are, we got up at seven, took the girls to my parents, and went on our getaway anyway because we had money invested and drat it all, we were going to go get our money's worth! The vacation was actually pretty great. We spent the first day falling asleep in various rooms across campus, but after that we had a blast and enjoyed our time together.

Anyway. That was our fun and exciting week. And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: pictures of my bloated stomach! Because I feel gargantuan. I took so long to show with the girls that I feel like I'm already six months pregnant. The kids in our primary class we subbed today were quick to point that out. I never really did weekly pictures with my other pregnancies, but now that I feel huge I understand the morbid fascination of documenting your downward slide into a ball instead of a human being. I know it's bad because when I complain to Jessie about how fat I'm feeling, he just looks non committal and says, "Well, you are pregnant. You can tell you're pregnant." Which is sensitive husband talk for "Dang woman! You must be growing an elephant in there! " Just kidding. I love my sensitive husband who knows how to answer no win questions. Oh. The pictures. I got distracted.


This was a few weeks ago. It doesn't look as bad as I remember it. But remember, I was only 11 or 12 weeks. Madeline's stomach, by the way, is coming along nicely.


This is today, just shy of fifteen weeks. Feel free to assure me I'm not as huge as I look. I'll know you're lying, but I'll write you down in my book of nice people. And no, it's not twins. Just a football player, apparently. So, that's all for today. We'll see you again in two weeks. Or sooner if I win the lottery or another vacation. Don't hold your breath.

Startling Updates. Prepare your mind.

Hello, all. Lack of posting can only mean one thing- we are going through a sleep phase. But everyone slept in until a whopping 6:20 today, Hallelujah! (You think I kid. I do not. This is late at our house. I am actually pleasantly shocked.) So that leaves me with enough coherency to update you. I know, you all thought we died in Antimony. But I am here to make a startling announcement. We went to Antimony and nothing bad happened. I know. Amazing, right? No major accidents, tricks of fate, health crises, or other tragic turn of events. We enjoyed ourselves. We're planning on going again next year and I don't have anxiety in my stomach. It was our year. The year of the Warners. I hereby declare the rest of the year to be the Year of the Warners as well. While we're at it.

One reason Antimony was good was this little baby:

We bought a van! And we rejoiced and filled it with stuff and drove it around a lot. (Disclaimer: Not the actual van we own. Just a doppelganger from the internet. Please do not be disappointed. You may come stare at the actual van in front of my house if that makes you feel better.) We found a decent deal on a Honda Odyssey and bit the bullet. I love it. I can go wherever I want, whenever I want. Not that we do, because we are lazy and tired and pregnant and like to sit on the couch all day watching Oprah. (Oh wait. Is that over? Maybe that's not what we do all day. When I figure it out I'll let you know.) But we could if we wanted to. And we reclaimed our extra parking spot from its communal status and the neighbors were all sad. But sometimes you just have to be selfish and forget your community. Anyway. We're glad we'll have room for three munchkins now without strapping one to the roof.

Other than that, we're enjoying being chill this week. Kimberly learned to climb stairs and developed a keen interest in the bathroom plunger, so that's keeping us occupied. And Madeline spends all day singing I Am a Child of God and Somebody to Love, so we're all entertained over here. Happy August. Seems like every time I turn around it's a new month. Calenders are funny that way. Until next time.

We WILL go camping and enjoy it.

Well, so much for reforming and blogging often. But I have to come to remedy that situation and share with you more happy news. You know that quote about insanity- that it's doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? Well, call me crazy. We're going back to Antimony. For all those who haven't been following the saga, let's review. Antimony is a little town in central Utah in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by towns you've never heard of. I've only met one person outside Jessie's family who had ever heard of it. Jessie's Dad went to high school down there, so it's been a tradition since they were small children to go camping and fishing there every year. Aww, sweet, right? Well, when we got married I was eager to support this happy family tradition. This is what happened.

Year One- We had a good time until we tried to leave. Because there were massive soldiers that had shut down all the highways nearby and you couldn't get through. So we unpacked our stuff and stayed another night, and I missed one of my best friend's mission farewells. Then we lost Jessie's keys and were locked out of our apartment when we got back with all our camping gear. Fun times.

Year Two- Also known as the year from heck. We once again tried to leave on Saturday, but going down the ridiculously hazardous road out of the mountains, hit a rock and punched a hole in our oil pan and died. Got driven around Antimony (population 75 or something ridiculous) by a nice random camper and determined there was no mechanic in this galaxy. Went back up the mountain to stay with family. Rode home with nine people in space designated for a maximum of six (including unrestrained babies) in a suburban with faulty brakes that randomly didn't work. The three hour drive took six inexplicably and things were flying off the roof onto the freeway never to be recovered. Eventually sold our car to a junk yard for a couple hundred bucks because it wasn't worth the towing to a town with a mechanic. Fun times.

Year Three- Foolishly decided to still go even though we were in the middle of moving. Got there late and set up camp in the dark because we'd spent the day cleaning our old apartment. Madeline cried all night because she had no crib. Twelve hours after arrival, our brand new tent randomly had two main poles snap simultaneously. Gave up and went home to a house full of boxes and twenty messages from evil landlady telling us she was charging us for twenty hours of cleaning in which she was presumably picking hairs one by one from ten feet down the laundry drain and demanding we come finish more OCD cleaning. Fun times.

Year Four- We never made it down to Antimony because Jessie had an emergency appendectomy. Ironically the most relaxing Antimony trip I've had.

So you see, I really want to be supportive of family unity. But you have to admit, that's a pretty long string of bad luck. And despite my best intentions to be positive, I think I've been conditioned to get a knot in my stomach when I hear the name. But seeing as how this tradition is not going away, we're trying again. Maybe one good, uneventful trip will break the streak and heal all wounds. So we're off to eat fish and play games and cook food and return home unscathed. Think good thoughts. Lots of good thoughts. And prayers. And maybe a few horseshoes and a couple strings of garlic.

Guess what we get to talk about for the next seven months.

So being pregnant is awesome. Mostly because I love wanting to puke my guts out and feeling exhausted even if I sleep in and take a two hour nap. But the most awesome thing is that even though the scale maintains I'm not packing on the pounds, my profile disagrees. I know this is normal when you're gestating human life, but I feel like ten weeks is a little early to be showing when I usually don't until well into the second trimester. I am breaking my photo silence to prove to you that I am protruding. Observe.


Forgive the blurriness. And the pajamas. I was going to wait until a day when I took the time to look good, but then I remembered I don't do that. So this is as good as it gets. I am resigned. Apparently being recently pregnant means your body is ultra prepared to grow again. Awesome.

In other awesome news, we almost bought a minivan. I say almost because we didn't. Obviously. Fun story. We found this fantastic deal on a van that had everything we wanted. It was dirt cheap because it was a salvage title, but seemed to be working great and was perfect for us. So we looked at it on Saturday, told the guy we wanted it, and arranged to have it thoroughly checked out Monday (because we learned from our last purchase of a salvage title to get the next one evaluated. In case it had been underwater and someone neglected to tell us.) Then the guy called us Sunday night to tell us his wife had borrowed the van to run errands, and totally crashed it. Pretty much totaled. Which was awesome for both of us, because we don't get a nice cheap van, and they don't get as much money because insurance companies suck. Frankly, I'm surprised it was insured because I'm pretty sure the guy didn't have it legally registered and was just switching out the plates with his car when he drove it. But I don't ask these sorts of legal questions when I'm buying off the black market. (Kidding. As far as I know everything was above board and legal. We like not going to prison.) So, we have concluded the romance was not meant to be and eagerly await our next chance at a meaningful, lasting relationship with a van that's in it for the right reasons. Yes, we might be watching the Bachelor. I don't know how you guessed. We all do things we're ashamed of when we are fat and nauseous and without minivan.

So I don't get chastized later: there is important information in this post. Read it.

Okay. After my last couple of overloaded spotty posts, I feel to repent of my blogging slackerness. (Or maybe I feel to avoid laundry, but I won't admit to that.) It's time to make it up to you, you faithful people who eagerly await my frequent wisdom and have been crying in your pillows thinking I've abandoned all blog hope. And to reward your patience, I'm going to make this one a good one, filled with exciting news and big deal announcements. Well, just one announcement actually. If you're not among the lucky ones who've already heard, get excited: The Warners are once again growing, with a new little one on the way! I know, you're aghast with wonder. So let's give you a chance to recover and play a little FAQ:

Q: Really? Already?

A: Yes. Already.

Q: Was that planned?

A: None of your beeswax. Okay. Yes. And no. The official party line is that this pregnancy is a "planned surprise". Or something along those lines. As in, sort of planned, but we were pretty surprised too to find we're so efficient.

Q: When's the due date?

A: Valentine's Day baby! Or close thereto. Hopefully not on my birthday. That makes me nine weeks today. We started telling people pretty early because Jessie was so shocked with the news he started telling everyone he met out of sheer dumb surprise. So we figured since his carpool knew, and his coworkers, and some random lady he had a business call with right after finding out, we should maybe tell family and friends.

Q: Not to beat a dead horse, but that's pretty close together, isn't it?

A: Yes. Kimberly and the new baby will be fifteen months apart. I hear people have done it before and lived, so I'm cautiously optimistic about my odds of survival.

Q: Isn't morning sickness fun?

A: No.

Q: Are you going to finally have a boy this time?

A: Well, I know two girls in a row is ridiculously unsymmetrical of me, and you're all dying to see what kind of cuteness a male Warner babe might possess, but it's sort of out of my hands. And we will be extremely happy if it's a girl as well. Since everything we own is pink anyway, and it'll be fun to put Jessie through heck when we're all hormonal at the same time in twenty years. Haha.

So, that's about it. We're excited, we're surviving. We're going to get a minvan out of this beautiful mess, so don't feel badly for us. I'll try not to be a slacker anymore, because I know you'll want to hear every detail of my aches and pains the next seven months. Until next time.

An itty bitty post with a lot in it.

Ah, summertime. For some reason this month has been ridiculously busy, which means we've been going and going and crashing and going some more. In the last two weeks, we've babysat our nieces, attended a two day family reunion in Logan, celebrated the 4th of July, planned and carried out another two day family reunion, had my brother over, and died. Oh, and Jessie got a new calling (assistant ward clerk/assistant executive secretary. That's the actual title. I didn't make it up), and Kimberly learned to crawl and climb in the middle of this mess. So we're a little bit weary. In a good way. In a let's-not-do anything-else-for-a-week kind of way. Except we're going on a date Thursday to Harry Potter, which should be relaxing instead of exhausting, especially since we're going at seven instead of midnight. Booyah. More sleep for me. After that, no more doing anything. Ever. For at least two days. Anyway, that's all you get today. Because I'm doing nothing except laundry.

Hi.

Wow. Time for my semi-monthly repenting and to regale you with all the thrilling things the Warners have been up to. Because we are always involved in a multitude of exciting, monumental things. Of that you can be sure. We've all been accomplishing great things with our lives. Here's a quick rundown, to spare you a novel.

-We celebrated Father's Day. I love my dads and Jessie, but due to my laziness and lack of preparation, they do not get their own post. Or pictures. But let's face it, our moms are better looking anyway. But I love my dad, Jessie's dad, and Jessie for being brave enough to have children. Maybe I'll extol their virtues another time. Just know they are awesome. Really awesome. So awesome that if I tried to explain their awesomeness I'd have to kill you.

-Madeline discovered our smoke detectors. At ten o'clock at night. They freaked her out and made her want to sleep in our bed. But after a lot of heart to heart conversations, she is now excited to point out every smoke detector in our house. If you ask her about them, she will probably tell you something like this: "There is a smoke detector! Madeline is scared of smoke detectors. We put a sticker on the smoke detector so Madeline can be brave. They are good. They help us. It is smoky and then the smoke detector goes BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! And we put out the fire!" We are so proud and fire educated around here.

-Kimberly got cranky. Then she got a tooth. Now she's only half cranky. We're thinking maybe another tooth is coming. And she finally learned to take a bottle, and there was great rejoicing in the land. And she's starting to get mobile. Scooting, reaching, climbing. She has yet to regularly roll over, but we're thinking maybe that's just because she's a freak of nature. We love her anyway.

-We went to Lehi's Grand Parade. Not sure why we hadn't ever done this before, except that I thought Lehi Days were exclusively about rodeos and I was trying to avoid being sucked into the cowboy mania. But apparently there's a lot to Rodeo Days besides rodeos. Madeline loved the whole experience. She loved getting candy, seeing bands, "princesses", horses, motorcycles, and all other parade fanfare. Kimberly enjoyed sitting in a chair and chewing on candy. (Through the wrapper. I am not a complete failure as a mother.) Madeline even got to take a pony ride and gleefully eat the nastiest snow cone ever. Successful outing.

We probably did other stuff. I can't remember. Blame it on the heat. Just wanted to let you know we're all alive and kicking and stuff. And ready for more summer festivities. Let the fun times roll.

We are stylin', happening people who do stuff.

I cut Madeline's hair. You might think this was a bad idea. It certainly sounded foolhardy at the time, and I was probably on drugs when I made this decision. Except I don't like drugs, so maybe a sleep deprivation induced haze was responsible. (Kimberly continues to awaken at obscene hours. Or at least hours I consider obscene, which is anytime before 6:30. Sorry if that is your happy time of day. I mean no offense. Except to tell you you're a freak of nature. But anyway. This whole tangent is a post for another time. Or one I already wrote. I can't remember. Back to Madeline's hair.) So at first Madeline was really gung ho about the while hair cutting thing because she wanted to be like Rapunzel. Then she understandably freaked out upon meeting her hair stylist. Then she was promised milk and cookies for good behavior and got back into the mood and enjoyed yelling "Eugene!" at random intervals. Her hair is really short now because she would not stop moving. But once I got over the shock and the guilt (for not consulting Jessie about this insanity), I think it turned out pretty cute. And independent third party polling companies agree. That is a fancy way of saying my neighbors and family, most of which didn't know I did it myself, so I feel like that removes some bias. I would post a picture, but I just realized I haven't taken a picture yet, and since Madeline is in bed and there is no way in heck I awaken that child once we have achieved Nirvana, you will just have to trust me that it's adorable and eagerly await our next photo shoot. Kimberly did not get a haircut and probably won't until she's three because apparently I am overly attached to baby curls.

In other news, we took the family to Lagoon on Friday and had the adventure of our lives. Since you asked, I will give you my now infamous, numerically ordered list of things I learned from the experience. Because I know you love them. So much order and wisdom.

1. I love Dramamine. I did not realize how much until I got old and lame.
2. You cannot go to an amusement park and entertain your child and yourself. You must choose. No fence sitting.
3. Lagoon is now forcing you to buy their overpriced drinks by substituting "free" drinks for deposits on lockers and tubes. Just thought you should know so you can be enraged.
4. I hate handicap policies. I will not elaborate but trust me that I am not bashing on real handicapped people. Just the policies amusement parks have about them and people who manipulate and take advantage of those policies.
5. You can build snowmen out of piles of pollen. If you're into that sort of thing.
6. Babies like stuffed tigers and rice puffs. They do not like sunscreen.
7. Watching little kids pretend to drive cars and make friends with strangers is pretty adorable. Watching little kids almost puke is not adorable. But kind of funny. As long as they don't actually puke.
8. Walking around an amusement park all day gives you free license to eat cookies all day. I like that.

I think you now understand what a fantastic time it was. Fun all around. I would expand on our adventures more but Jessie just suggested we have two kids every year for the next ten years and I have to go have him tested for dementia. Too much sun at Lagoon, I guess.

Extra Terrestrial Visitors

(That title is somewhat misleading, I suppose. There are no aliens in this post. Unless you count my brother as an alien life form. Just warning you. In case you were psyched about it.)

I have an inordinate amount of time to blog. This is mostly due to the fact that my little brother is visiting us. School got out for the summer and he hightailed it down here for a while, because let's face it: this is the party house. And I did what any self-respecting sister would do. I put him in charge of entertaining my kids for the next three days and went to take a nap. Okay, not really. But he is keeping Madeline entertained, which is extremely awesome. He wanted to be sure I mentioned his visit on the blog. Because this makes him famous and important. You may know him from his stint as our resident Jimmer expert. Having him around is good for us, because it forces us to make up stuff to do instead of sitting around getting fat and losing brain cells. The kid was even game for exercising with me this morning and pushed the double stroller the whole way. Impressive. Next I'm going to put him on cleaning the basement.

Another awesome advantage of having my brother here is that our house is now fully Pokemon equipped. He brought his Pokemon video games and figurines and is teaching Madeline all of their names. So now I am going to have to steal some Pokemon cards from the neighborhood children when they're not looking so Madeline will have some to destroy. (Because I refuse to actually spend any money on such drivel.) I hear they're all the rage right now, which is kind of strange to me, because I thought they were all the rage ten years ago when my other brothers were obsessed with them. And then I was kind of hoping they had been obliterated from existence. But apparently they "came back". I don't understand the appeal. Apparently I am not a cool parent. Hopefully they'll be out again by the time Madeline is old enough to swap cards on the playground. So I can instead tolerate some other incredibly useless trend. I'm looking forward to it.

We continue to be awesome and organized.

The last few days we have been organizing. Remember I said I was getting organized? Well, as you can see from the date of that post, we went right out and got on that. Because we're so awesome. But finally we decided we can no longer ignore the mess that is the pile of shoes by our door and the pile of boxes in our basement. Or rather, Jessie promised me pretty furniture if we took care of it. I am easily bribed. So we bought one of these:

Madeline was really disappointed upon opening the box to find out the bed wasn't in there too. False advertising! We're going to sue. But Jessie had a lot of fun putting it together. He started out by complaining that he didn't have a drill to put the screws in really quickly. And I was like dude, what is that in your hand? And he informed me it was a cheap drill with no power and he needed a real manly man drill. And this sounded suspiciously to me like a conversation we had at Christmas. And this is what followed:

Me: Didn't my mom buy you a drill for Christmas? A power drill?
Jessie: No.
Me: Are you sure? I remember you getting a power tool for Christmas.
Jessie: I think it was a saw.
Me: I'm pretty sure I told her you wanted a drill.
Jessie: I think it was a saw. Probably...maybe I'll look.

He came back upstairs with a power drill. A really nice one.

Jessie: I totally forgot I had this! It's like Christmas again!

Then he read the directions and found out you can't use a power drill or it might crack the wood. So he used his extremely awesome non-power screwdriver. I laughed a lot.

Then we bought a bunch of bookshelves from Ikea to organize all the junk in our basement. I still don't really know what all is down there, but there are now a lot of pretty shelves to put it on. Those were pretty fun to put together too. And this time, Jessie did a lot of laughing at me. Because let's just say that driving nails was not my focus at college. And I'm really awesome at it. You want to hire me. I know you do. Anyway. Now we have to go through things and clean. You might even get before and after pictures if you're lucky. If that doesn't violate the basic tenants of this blog. I'll probably decide on that critical ethical point based on whether I am motivated enough to take the after pictures. You've been warned.

A camping we will go

Jessie had the brilliant idea yesterday to have a campout in our backyard. After we took down the tent this morning he said, "we didn't get any pictures! For your blog! Because I know you're gong to blog about this." So now I feel sort of obligated. But you will have to imagine the sweet visual evidence of our adventure. I know you can do it. We set up our tent and made s'mores on our camping burner, then watched a movie in our tent on the laptop. Super creative and awesome, I know. It also served as a sort of dry run for camping with two kids, checking our camping gear, and getting Madeline psyched up for future adventures. Here are the awesome things we learned from our practice:

1. Madeline should never stay up past nine. We knew that anyway, but I guess we forgot. And we're both college graduates. Go figure.
2. Our couch cushions and a bedding set are way more comfortable than an air matress and sleeping bags. Unfortunately, they would fill our whole car. So next time we'll have to rough it.
3. Madeline doesn't like the dark. She does like Jessie. More than me. I'm currently nursing my bruised ego and wondering why I spend all that time feeding, cleaning, and entertaining her when Jessie gets top billing. Something about dads and daughters. Or that's what Jessie claims.
4. There is a reason the girls sleep in separate bedrooms. So that when one wakes up screaming at 5:20 they don't both wake up for the day. I'll let you guess which one did the screaming.
5. Jessie treats tent directions like other men treat driving directions. But now he knows how to do it for when we go camping for real.
6. S'mores are really yummy. This is only significant because I only started eating them five years ago when some college friends insisted I try one after a lifetime of insisting I didn't like them. I only ever ate the chocolate. But when I had one, it was a green eggs and ham moment. And now I love them. Thanks, Amanda and Jordan. My life is forever changed.
7. It takes serious brain power to set up a pack and play. Even if you've done it before. Even if there are idiot proof directions right on it.
8. Tent bags are not designed to actually fit the tent they accompany.

Overall, a good and worthy family outing. If you enjoy sleep deprivation, junk food, windy nights, and stepping all over each other. Which we do.

A break from us. And then more about us.

We have a new obsession at our house. I'm probably a bit behind on this, and you all have already felt the joy. But if you haven't, you need to watch all the Kid History videos on YouTube. Here's a link to my favorite, because I am not cool enough or smart enough to embed videos in my blog.

http://m.youtube.com/index?desktop_uri=%2F&gl=US#/watch?v=cD2RO0Cws1Q

Madeline loves them. She likes to walk around the house saying "BUT....if you have two complatos....only two dollars!" They pretty much make my day. Anyway, I feel sort of anticlimactic now. I never share YouTube videos so I'm not sure what the protocol is now. Do we just say goodbye so you can go watch the movie? Should I gush about it for a while? Do we pretend it never happened and move on to other things, because our lives are so intensely interesting that we should never miss a chance to pontificate upon them? Yeah, that last option sounds about right to me.

Our exciting news is that Jessie got released from the Elder's quorum this past Sunday. They caught him smoking pot in the mother's room during fast and testimony meeting and that was that. No, I'm kidding. Jessie doesn't smoke pot, he only eats it in brownies. At any rate, he's now a free agent, and for at least a few weeks he doesn't have meetings on Sundays or visits during the week. Maybe longer if he'd take my advice and mention his love for coffee and R rated movies to the bishop. He's excited to see what's next, since he likes magnifying his calling and stuff. Weirdo. I'm voting for nursery, because then I could sub with him. Also because he loves nursery. Like he loves chocolate cake.

That's about it though. Our lives aren't really that exciting. Go watch all the movies. Even if you've already seen them. Because they are awesome. "BUT!"

Some rambling.

I like rain. I really do. I like that it cools things off during a hot summer. I love to watch thunder storms roll in and hear rain on the windows. I like to use it as an excuse to cuddle up and watch movies with my girls all day and ignore the stuff we're supposed to be doing. But as much as I love rain, I'm ready for several consecutive days of sunshine. There's only so many days you can cuddle up and watch movies before you feel lazy, your house is dirty, and your kid is bouncing off the walls. On the bright side, I have the rain to thank for getting a little more sleep around here. An all night storm led to the baby finally sleeping through the night again, which led to me connecting the dots and realizing maybe she just needed some auditory assistance. So we've been running a fan at night and she's sleeping better, and there's a white noise machine on the way to my house right this minute. Booyah. Of course, Madeline started having nightmares and yelling a lot, but we can only handle one crisis at a time. Maybe Madeline needs a white noise machine too. Maybe we'll go on a huge shopping spree and buy up every soothing noise maker in Utah County.

Also, on an unrelated note, I was really excited that Scotty won American Idol. My favorite singer actually won. That never happens. Because I cast an unlucky shadow. I feel validated that the world at large apparently appreciates country. Being a reformed country hater myself, I can understand the stigma against country music. But in the end it gets everyone. Also, I'm a sucker for southern accents. Yeehaw.

Warning. Extreme moods ahead.

This morning I woke up, bounced down the stairs, and found Jessie in the kitchen. I was grinning and possibly giggling a little bit. If this sounds a bit odd to you, you are not alone. Jessie took one look at my face and said, "You slept really well, didn't you. You're very chipper." Normally chipper and morning and Cami are not found in the same area code. But it's amazing what a full night of sleep can do. No interruptions. (Except that one yell at four-thirty, but that hardly counts because I am chipper and I say it doesn't.) Eight blissful hours. Waking up on my own at seven. Getting deep enough into REM to do whatever it is you do in REM that makes you a normal human being. I have found my new drug. If someone could bottle this up I would probably sell my firstborn to get my daily high. Although if I sold my firstborn that would also solve half my problem.

Madeline is not chipper. Madeline is decidedly cranky, clingy, and upset for no apparent reason. Madeline has been trying to go down for a nap since 10:30. I told her that maybe all that yelling she's doing in the middle of the night is affecting her ability to get into really great REM, but she was too busy hyperventilating to really get the science behind it. I told Madeline not to ruin my sleep-induced happy place. Madeline has yet to develop empathy levels sufficient to care about my happy place. We're kind of at an impasse. I suspect Madeline might be a bit sick, since I am also sick, which would explain the whine-a-thon. Someone give that girl some drugs. Or a nap. I hear a little sleep can really give you a boost. And it's even legal.

Return of the Sleep Wars, Again

One day we woke up and our sweet little baby had changed.

She used to sleep all day. She used to sleep all night. She used to be quiet and perpetually happy. Then she watched Madeline for a few months and learned how we communicate in this house. Now, she screams. She squeals. She breaks my eardrums. And she busts this out in relief society and sacrament meeting, and most of all whenever I leave her in a different room or set her down when she feels like she should be the center of attention. And she quit sleeping. She started waking up every night between 2-4 am and staying awake for at least an hour. Not crying, mind you. Just yelli and squealing and laughing loud enough to keep up e whole house. Then waking up again at 5 or 6 for good.

I know you mothers with colicky, whiny, high maintenance babies who weren't sleeping through the night at a month are laughing at me right now. I am probably getting my just punishment. I know it could be much worse, because once upon a time I suffered through the the sleep deprivation that was the first six months of Madeline's life. But it's been so long since I enjoyed that happy little jaunt, and Kimberly has been such a fantastic sleeper, that I've forgotten how to function on that little sleep. And all the tricks for putting a fussy baby to sleep. And how to nap with a toddler and a baby. (Oh snap. I never had that skill. But a girl can dream.)

So you'll excuse me if I'm a bit of a terrible blogger right now. Or an uninteresting conversationalist/unsocial hermit. Or a lousy cook and housekeeper. This whole getting up at 6 thing with six hours of interrupted sleep does nothing to help my quest to be a morning person. Or my exercise regimen. Or my nuclear fission research. Basically I'm just trying to stay awake. Or get more sleep. So I'll just be hanging around in my pajamas shooting longing glances at my bed and dirty looks at the sun.

Mama said there'd be days like this

I'll bet you thought I forgot about Mother's Day. Never fear. We spent the whole day prank calling other people's mothers. Just to make sure they were loved. No, in reality we spent the whole day being awesomely loving, adoring, and helpful children and making our mothers forget they had any other children because we are so exceedingly awesome. Kimberly was so excited for her first Mother's Day that she started singing my praises at four in the morning and didn't stop for two hours. I was really, really excited about all that quality mothering time. Fortunately, our ward rewarded my diligent early morning mothering with a lot of chocolate, which kept me from passing out in the middle of Sunday School.

After church, we headed over to Jessie's mom's house to sing her praises, give her foot massages, and beat her at pinochle. Because we're nice like that. I feel like in honor of the occasion you all need a picture of my amazing mother-in-law. Indulge me.

I am indebted to this woman. She taught Jessie to clean when he's bored and put the toilet seat down. She spoils my kids and her house is party central where we all go hang out and stare at each other, followed by massive raves where we all break dance and do Charlie Sheen impressions. Also she doesn't mind when Jessie and I get out of control with our your mom jokes. Did I mention she had thirteen children and is still sane? My hero.

Then we went on over to my mom's to mooch food and be awesome. My mom will probably kill me, but I have to post a picture of her too. Watch out. The picture may try to hug you.

I love my mom. I get all my most awesome qualities from her. Like waking up in the middle of the night with crazy dreams and calling my brother to make sure he didn't die in a train wreck. And we both cry a lot, although my mom still creams me in quality and quantity. Thanks mom, for making me emotionally unstable. Some day I hope to also get all her awesome qualities, like unconditional generosity, love, and figure skating skills. My mom put up with my teenage rebellion (in college. I was perfect as a teenager. Obviously.) She puts up with my daily phone calls because I don't know how to mother, cook, clean, shop, or salsa dance without calling her first. She can soothe my cranky babies when everyone else has inserted the ear plugs. Thanks mom.

Also, as may be obvious by his gender and age, this person is not my mother:

But we got to talk to him by Skype Sunday. This fine young specimen of LDS boyhood is my brother currently serving a mission in Chile, and he is awesome (which I am contractually obligated to say since he is out serving the Lord and stuff.) We had the most awesome phone call ever. He was over a half hour late, so we called the number he gave us and talked to him and his companion long enough to figure out that a) his companion didn't know his first name and b) they are typical missionaries and were running late. Then we skyped for about half an hour where he could hear us but we couldn't hear him, so we mostly talked to him and he smiled and mugged and communicated by sign language and chat. And we learned to read lips. Then we got sound and found out he now sounds like a girl. (Not really.) He's alive and well, riding Chilean buses and eating some compound that I think may or may not resemble Nesquick in unhealthy quantities. He may have stolen the Mother's Day limelight, but how can you stay mad at that face? I didn't post the one where he was sticking out his tongue at us. Because we still love each other enough from 3000 miles away to waste time mocking each other. Fun treat getting to see his ugly mug. And getting to learn how to pronounce his companion's name.

Hope you all had such an awesome Mother's Day too. I plan on having about twenty children just so I can get twenty Mother's Day gifts every year. Sometimes my genius surprises even me.

It felt good on my lips. (Is that too scandalous for a blog title?)

I am here to assure you that we did not die following our awesome week of busyness, sickness, and chilling in the car. We're alive and well. And just to cheer you up, or gross you out, let me backtrack to about two weeks ago, when our cool daddy-o and I went on a date for his birthday festivities. Sans children. Which is the best part of dates. We headed up to the Gateway and had dinner, and then played the most awesome version of the alphabet game ever, in which we took pictures of ourselves kissing in front of all twenty-six letters of the alphabet. I'm sure we freaked out about 25% of the Gateway population, especially the lucky few we enlisted to help us get some difficult shots that Jessie's long manly arms just couldn't capture. Some people got really into it, though, including a helpful clerk at the Children's Discovery museum who was all set to follow us around and get all 26 letters. Jessie took the pictures and made them look pretty, and I now present them to you. In case I didn't make it clear, here is nice bold font to help you out: WE ARE KISSING IN ALL OF THESE PICTURES. IF PICTURES OF AWESOME, BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE LOCKING LIPS FREAK YOU OUT, DO NOT LOOK. There. I feel like I have now done my due diligence and it's your own fault if you need therapy.


My absolute favorites are the fire lane and the American Eagle picture where we aren't even actually touching. So now you know what we do on dates. We may be a little crazy. But at least we are the same level of crazy, which is what makes our marriage work. And we get cheap fun dates out of our craziness. Well, except for the part where we lost our parking stub and had to pay for a whole day's parking because no one trusts anyone anymore, and no one prints warnings about holding on to your parking stubs for flaky people like us either. And the parking attendent wouldn't take kissing pictures as payment. I don't know what her problem is.

There's so much to say. So I won't.

It's been one of those weeks. I probably should blog about it in minute detail. But that would be very responsible of me. I might become a legitimate blogger. That would be scary. Let's just say it involved way too much Easter candy, Madeline spraining her ankle, Madeline getting the 24 hour flu, not so much sleep, and a million other little things that just make you want to get to next week.

After a long day today of screaming, tantrums, diarrhea, and no naps, we took the kids out to dinner because cooking it seemed like an Olympic event. Madeline screamed the whole time. So we loaded everyone back in the car and drove home. And the girls fell asleep on the way. We pulled into our parking spot, and looked back at the sleeping children. Then we looked at each other. Then without a word, we both sighed and leaned back in our chairs. And played a game of Scrabble on Jessie's iphone. And laughed because this is what life has brought us to. And we were okay with being the weirdos hanging out in our parked car on a Friday night in front of our house. Not even making out. And thoroughly enjoying it.