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.