Sparrow's Nest

A short note of sunny encouragement.

2012-01-23T10:02:00.003-07:00

I feel like I've dropped off the face of the earth. I hear that's okay when you're nine months pregnant. I don't feel like blogging a lot because I feel like all I will do is complain. Because this is the fun part. Speaking of which, can I just say I hate false labor? I never really had it with the girls so it's a new and fun experience. While not really physically painful, it's driving me batty. Also I'm probably going to have a nervous breakdown. Stupid contractions. Also, our furnace broke and our house is cold. That is definitely helping my emotional well-being. Also, Jessie is starting a new job next week. This is a good thing but for some reason it seemed prudent to put it in the middle of my list of awesome things. So you can see why blogging is at the top of my list of priorities. Just one of many things being left on the wayside as I travel into irrational hormonal hermitage. Other things include dishes, laundry, cleaning, entertaining my children, cooking, church, and Words with Friends. So you see, this is getting serious. I'll let you know if the governor declares a state of emergency. Until then, direct all inquiries through our disaster management guru Jessie, who manages to maintain a happy demeanor by being amused at my eccentricities. Thank goodness for long-suffering spouses. Until next time, I'll be on the couch timing contractions and strategizing baby eviction plans.

All about pregnancy and me and pregnancy and babies.

2012-01-09T20:26:00.006-07:00

I have a little bit of a one track mind lately. Can you blame me? When your every move feels like a freight train, you start to get a little obsessed with your stomach. And if it will ever return to normal proportions. We have five weeks until the due date, which sounds really close but not nearly close enough. Today we got a little crazy, and since Madeline is still obsessed with chains from Christmas, we combined our obsessions and created this:

It's a little hard to see, but you should be impressed. This is our Ali Baba countdown. It's highly complex and amazing. We have two more weeks of white chains. Then we move into yellow, which means CAUTION! FULL TERM! 10% chance of baby or maybe snow! But based on past experience, this is a depressing phase in which I will hopefully wonder every day if maybe today is the day, but nothing will happen except an excess of walking and drinking pineapple juice. My birthday has a special chain with balloons and birthday cake, because Madeline has expressed great concern that there is birthday cake this month. Then on Valentine's Day we have the special green link in honor of my due date. Green for go time, obviously. Not that we'll have a baby by then. Then we move into red territory. Red meaning danger: Cami is liable to be extremely hormonal and dangerous and ready to consume castor oil. Red meaning: We love you Ali Baba, but you're late and if you know what's good for you you will exit the premises immediately. Then, at the top, a handmade visual depiction of our new little man on the 22nd, which is my induction date. This was not my choice. I have no qualms with being induced the second I hit my due date. I also love epidurals and other medical interventions. I'm probably on some dangerous mother list somewhere. But back to induction: My doctor is out of town the week of my due date, so it was early induction or waiting it out. Woe is me. I'm going to be an unhappy blimp by the 22nd. Speaking of which:

I feel like I'm bursting. I know, other women have been bigger. But I feel like this is the biggest I've ever been pregnant, and I can't look away from my slow descent into rotundity.

Anyway. You've probably been thoroughly inundated with pregnancy updates now, so we'll give you a break. Thanks for sticking through. I promise that in a month there will be a reward for your patience. And mine. I have been assured that no women has ever been pregnant forever.

Happy New Year. Check.

2012-01-04T20:35:00.003-07:00

Ha. Did I say I was working on a New Year's post? I'm only about four days late. Blame it on the fun we're having trying to get two girls to sleep in the same room. On the bright side, they've been sleeping in a little bit later than usual, which has the unintended side effect of proving to me I can be functional at seven if I don't have to wake up an hour before that. But I have thought about some New Year's goals. Mostly they are pretty short term. Survive until I have this baby. Try not to let my kids run wild. Try to keep my house in some semblance of order. Huge goals like that. I've decided to keep my sanity by not trying to make huge goals right now. So in honor of New Year's, I will instead give you a list of goals we've already accomplished this year, because we are awesome. Because that's much more fun than coming up with more things you have to do.

1. Move girls into the same room. Check. We won't mention the fact that we're still miles away from smooth napping and bedtimes. But their beds are in the same physical space. Score.

2. Get ready for baby. Check. Crib, car seat, bassinet, clothes, hospital registration, diapers, binkis, etc. Jessie got motivated and now all systems are go. The only problem is we've still got six weeks until D-day. Drat it all. And we haven't settled on a name yet. But babies don't need names. Just diapers. So we can totally cross this off.

(Random belly picture to show you how hard we are working on this baby thing. We take our goals very seriously.)

3. Put away Christmas. Check. We have successfully killed the Christmas spirit. All cheery decor has been safely stowed and hidden away. The front room is back to normal and Christmas treats were consumed and converted to fat. The piles of toys all over our house with no home are a different story. We don't talk about that.

4. Party like it's 2012. Check. We are fun machines. We've attended New year's parties, played Jessie's new Ticket to Ride game, attended a Jazz game/girls night, eaten eclairs, made cookies, and basically just been awesome. We're exhausted. But awesome.

5. Fulfill public speaking duties. Check. Jessie was supposed to give a talk in church on Sunday, but didn't have to because he spoke after a returned missionary who kindly used the whole meeting and got Jessie off the hook. Jessie knew this would probably happen, so he wasn't broken up about it, and I feel like this has probably gotten him off the hook for talking for another year. And more importantly, gets me off the hook to have to talk with him. Score.

That seems like a good list. Suddenly I feel very accomplished and productive. For the first time this year. I love revisionist histories. I feel like you all should go set New Year's goals to be as awesome as us. Hope your year is a ball of fun so far.

The post Christmas lull

2011-12-30T12:28:00.004-07:00

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

2011-12-23T14:26:00.003-07:00

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.

2011-12-18T21:14:00.006-07:00

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.

2011-12-08T21:07:00.004-07:00

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.

2011-11-26T16:14:00.003-07:00

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

2011-11-23T20:18:00.004-07:00

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.

2011-11-10T10:12:00.003-07:00

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

2011-11-07T21:09:00.000-07:00

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.

2011-11-01T19:46:00.012-06:00

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.

2011-10-20T10:13:00.003-06:00

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.

2011-10-12T10:06:00.002-06:00

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.

2011-10-08T15:45:00.005-06:00

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

2011-09-30T09:54:00.004-06:00

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...

2011-09-28T14:59:00.002-06:00

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.

2011-09-14T10:21:00.004-06:00

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.

2011-08-31T10:12:00.004-06:00

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.

2011-08-21T18:49:00.007-06:00

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.

2011-08-05T09:31:00.004-06:00

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.

2011-07-26T09:37:00.005-06:00

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.

2011-07-18T19:57:00.004-06:00

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.

2011-07-12T09:50:00.004-06:00

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.

2011-07-11T09:15:00.002-06:00

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.

2011-06-25T20:38:00.005-06:00

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.

2011-06-12T21:08:00.005-06:00

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

2011-06-08T13:10:00.004-06:00

(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 exper t. 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.

2011-06-07T16:54:00.005-06:00

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

2011-06-04T11:52:00.003-06:00

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.

2011-05-30T11:44:00.005-06:00

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.

2011-05-26T13:06:00.003-06:00

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.

2011-05-19T13:01:00.003-06:00

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

2011-05-17T21:26:00.005-06:00

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

2011-05-10T21:12:00.005-06:00

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?)

2011-05-01T21:11:00.007-06:00

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.

2011-04-29T19:01:00.002-06:00

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.

The History of Jessius Warnerius.

2011-04-18T20:41:00.003-06:00

It's that time you've all been waiting for. Time to pay tribute to that studly hunk of a man we like to call Jessie Warner. I admit, I'm a bit late with this post. Technically, Jessie became an old geezer two days ago. But amidst life, partying it up, sleep deprivation, political campaigning, and space walking, we didn't get around to commemorating on the actual day. So happy 27.00547945th birthday, Mr. Warner! I know you're getting old and a little senile, so allow me to remind you of the most awesome parts of your 27 years.

Year 1- You were born. The doctors were a little surprised when you started instructing them on how to increase the efficiency of hospital advertising, but upon implementing your suggestions, they were pleasantly surprised at their spike in popularity.

Year 5- You started kindergarten and immediately began crushing upon all twenty girls in your class in turn, and incorporating swing dance moves into kissing tag. Alas, holding hands with multiple girls led to jealousy.

Year 11- You oh so humbly and oh so fantastically took top honors in your school spelling bee, and then immediately began planning your new business selling unique personalized dictionaries, individually autographed.

Year 16- You hit the dating and driving scene, and girls and pedestrians everywhere trembled in anticipation, though for slightly different reasons.

Year 18- You spread your wings and flew the nest, becoming financially, emotionally, legally, grammatically, and ecumenically independent. You moved to the great state of Idaho, afterwhich their potatoes were shipped with the label: "From the state where potatoes grow in Jessie's aura". Potato sales around the world skyrocketed.

Year 19- You embarked on your epic quest to the great country of Argentina, where the people eagerly awaited your arrival, in the hopes that they might have the honor of stealing your money, scriptures, shoes, hair gel, and/or memory.

Year 21- You began studies at that great institution of learning in the city of Provo. After only twenty major changes, you decided to major in Broadway Hypnotism, training under the finest experts.

Year 22- You stumbled into the best relationship of your life, and after minimal blackmail and maximum assurance that she could cook, you committed matrimony and joined the ranks of people who go to bed before 10 pm.

Year 23- You became a father, and promptly became a huge fan of princesses, horsey rides, and nap time.

Year 26- You finally completed your endless years of schooling, received a pretty diploma, and to celebrate, ran away to join the circus. When you washed out as a tightrope walking clown, you cried for three days and then got a real job.

Year 27- Yet to be determined. But we know whatever it is, it will likely be intensely interesting, wholly unexpected, and a whole barrel of fun.

Happy birthday, you mad fool you. Don't eat too much cake. Don't get any concussions. Be a good boy and listen to your wife. And always, always wear clean underwear, in case you need an appendectomy.

That's just sick.

2011-04-15T11:42:00.003-06:00

I thought we'd dodged the winter germs that had been going around. Until Madeline started coughing and wheezing and generally ratcheting up the cranky right after her birthday. And Kimberly started a runny nose. And then I realized I was dying. So it's been a fun week, and really my first experience trying to manage a sick household with two kiddos. Fun times all around. And here are the awesome things I learned:

-Even being sick doesn't make Kimberly excessively cranky. As long as she gets naps when she wants them, she will still be giggly and smiley and good-natured. Oddly enough, constipation on top of sickness doesn't turn her into a bawling mess either. We're going to try grounding her or taking away her driving privileges next, but I'm pretty sure she'll just roll right through those too. I don't know whose child she is, but I'm liking it.

-Madeline CAN be more dramatic. I really thought we had reached the upper limits. Also, if she's sick enough, she will even lay still for up to an hour a time. I thought sickness making children more mellow was a myth perpetuated by mothers of sick children who lie to others in a self-deluded attempt to handle things themselves. I was always convinced sickness was only manifested by kids getting crankier and rowdier. Good to know this is not always the case.

-You can lay on the couch for hours at a time, doing nothing but making sandwiches and changing diapers, and your kids will probably survive. Also your house may even be standing afterwards with only minor cosmetic damages. When Madeline was a baby I was convinced I would never be able to sleep while I knew any of my children were awake, for fear they would die or write a rap song whilst I was off duty. Now I know this is false. Because Madeline only writes songs about shopping, and rarely if ever actually dies, no matter how many times she may threaten to do so.

-Jessie will do the dishes and make dinner, and entertain bored children if these things are not done when he gets home. Without being begged or paid. And he won't even give you a guilt trip or try to cash in on it later. Basically, what I'm saying is that I might have several bouts of "sickness" over the next few months or years. Maybe a chronic, fleeting illness. That is totally real and definitely out of my control. And appears at about 5:00 every day. There's an illness like that, isn't there? If you know what it's called, definitely let me know. So I can tell Jessie.

Fortunately, it looks like we're all feeling better today, with only a few remnants of cracked voices, raw nostrils, and lingering coughs. So we'll probably live. All except Jessie. Who was the only one who didn't get appreciably sick. So I'm expecting him to break down and die any hour now. Probably just in time for his birthday. We always like to get him big, dramatic presents like that.

To the trial and blessing of my life.

2011-04-10T21:49:00.016-06:00

Tomorrow, I gain a three year old. Or, to paraphrase a popular saying: I'm not gaining a three year old, I'm losing a two year old. We can only hope the three year old model will come with a bit more maturity and a bit less drama. I'm betting not. But despite the fact that she regularly has us gnashing our teeth and scoping out behavioral schools (for children, not dogs. Unless they'll take her at the dog schools. She'd have a great time chasing the dogs), we've become rather attached to our little Madeline and her antics. She regularly keeps us in stitches. In honor of her day of birth, here's a tribute to our little trouble maker. With pictures! Oh, the excitement!
Once upon a time there was a young, stunningly good-looking couple who were eagerly anticipating their first delightful progeny. And of course had no idea what they were getting into.

After a lot of unimportant laboring and stuff, there was born to them this pretty little specimen of babyhood. She was sweet. Innocent. Adorable. Totally in charge of their lives. Also naked quite often, but when you're counting your age in days or weeks, no one minds much.

She grew in cuteness and fatness and loudness. Especially in loudness. The young couple wasn't getting much sleep, or silence, but they forgave her because she was very skilled in the art of making friends and brainwashing. She lived the high life. New outfits ten times a day, all the food she wanted as long as it was milk, and her very own personal photographer.Over time she developed that terrible power that parents fear and dread: mobility. And became even cuter, if that was possible. And got in heaps more trouble. But her parents continued to bail her out of jail time after time, because they loved the little stinker.

Then, the girl began to walk and talk and use her powers of persuasion and seduction to swindle her parents out of a lot of money and presents. And "uh oh" became the word of the day. But her happy smile and ability to show off in all environments kept her popular with her fans and movie critics.
Realizing she could no longer glide by on her looks and engaging personality, Madeline began to develop her other talents, becoming accomplished in sports, music, and awesome hair styles.

Understanding that knowledge was the key to a happy future, she also undertook to improve her mind, save her soul, and plan for her eventual coup of world governments.

She also worked on her culinary skills, although she refused to make any recipes that did not include goldfish, chocolate, or salad. Her fame as a homemaker and domestic diva soon surpassed even that of her super-star mother, no mean feat.

Despite her meteoric rise to fame, wealth and greatness, she still took time to enjoy family, the outdoors, and the simple things in life. She was never demanding or ridiculously hard to please. Unless it happened to be any day of the week except Thursday. And very often on Thursdays as well. Because there is nothing special about Thursday.

After three years of tireless effort and a little bit of luck, her many notable accomplishments included, but were not limited to: Dressing herself with style, sisterhood, memorization of the Rapunzel CD, partial toilet training, horse-back-daddy riding prowess, knowledge of the ABC's, numbers 1-10, and an odd smattering of colors, her own reality television show airing exclusively at Warner Studios, and a loving heart and precocious spirit.

The happy parents agreed that while the first three years had only narrowly been survived, they were happy years that could never be traded. Madeline had endeared herself to all, accomplished everything that could be reasonably expected of an independent and stubborn toddler, and avoided all sticky ends with her charm and exasperating cuteness. The moral of the story: We love Madeline. In all her mischievous glory. Happy birthday, punk. Mommy loves you.

Our Semi-Annual Visual Spree.

2011-04-06T10:42:00.011-06:00

So I decided it was time for some pictures. For those fans out there who wonder why I blabber so much instead of shutting up and just putting up baby pictures, which are, I admit, infinitely more uplifting and awe inducing than my eloquent and ever stimulating literature. So I will post some random photos, regale you with way too much information, and happiness will abound in our kingdom. I warn you, they are in no particular order, as I am super super lazy. But I tried to put some cuteness first for those of you who just don't want to suffer through all the commentary. Heck, if you just want the viewing pleasure and are actually someone I know and not a creepy stalker person, head on over to Facebook for all this and More! Limited Time Only!

Some baby cuteness. I really am regretting not getting every last thing we own in pink now that we have two girls. So much for my super smart bi-gender planning and preparedness. Pink strollers and car seats really are more fun than any other color.

Some Easter dress action. My mom found these matching ones and I was going to actually wait until Easter to have the girls wear them, but I have no patience. We had a baptism so they broke out the goods early and we do not apologize for our Easter Dress Heresy. Because they looked cute, and only relatives saw them, not anybody in the ward, so it'll still be a surprise, right? Except that I'm publishing pictures for the world to see. Because I like to sabotage myself like that.

The baby sits! And it is so exciting! Every time we sit her down and she stays up there is much exclaiming and to-do. Even though she's done it about a hundred times. We are all about the enthusiasm and emotional support over here. Don't get me started on how awesome it is to cheer for every toilet success for the past four days as if she won the NCAA tournament. (Madeline, not Kimberly. I only wish Kimberly was so progressive.) So forgive us if we need to come over and be a little cranky at your house sometimes. All this positive energy is really wearing. My cheeks hurt from smiling. (Name that movie!)

So remember how I said we were getting organized? This is our first attempt. It holds cans. The cans roll. It is awesome. I feel it is noteworthy that a useful craft got completed around here. Not that I did it. Jessie put together the whole thing. I just busted out the spray paint to feel like a contributor. Now we only need to make about twenty more to make our pantry pretty.

Madeline is into picking her own clothes these days. I had to share her unique style. Don't worry, I don't let her leave the house like this. Usually. Okay, sometimes. I just get past caring when I'm wiped out from the Happy Potting Time Cheering Squad. I have no energy left over to teach color coordination. One step at a time.

More Easter cuteness. Those faces pretty much sum up our life. Either over the top exuberance, or grumpy drama. Usually the faces are reversed though. I don't blame Kimberly for getting in the occasional grumpy face when she's being strangled though. At least Madeline's world is not ending, as it is ninety percent of the time.

Here's a freebie to those of you who stuck around. This one didn't make it onto Facebook, for obvious reasons. This is what mornings look like around here. I didn't think a photo could adequately capture my feelings, but this one comes pretty close. Oh, the humanity.

That's a wrap, folks. We can only muster up so many photo opportunities around here before we start feeling a little too on top of things. We'll probably avoid taking pictures for a month to avoid strain. Thanks for being a part of public debut. We do it all for you.

I'm a big kid now...and Madeline's growing up too

2011-04-04T11:52:00.000-06:00

We've entered another delightful phase of potty training. And of course I have to blog about it, because this is my revenge for the torment she put me through along the way. In twenty years, when Madeline is appalled at how much personal information about her bodily functions I published for the world to see, I'll just smile and know that she got hers. On the bright side, Madeline has pretty much potty trained herself in the past three days. She knows when to go, she goes in without being reminded, she does everything herself, and she's as proud as a peacock. Incidentally, we didn't try any new tactics on her. She just decided it was time. Which drives me nuts, but I'm not going to complain too loudly since she's doing it. My kid is using the bathroom for its intended purpose! The excitement level around here is somewhere between giddiness and awe. If she keeps it up for a few more days we'll probably be breaking out the caviar and sparkling apple cider.

However, it's not all rainbows. We now have several new problems: in our enthusiasm to get her excited about the process, we slowly upped the ante from stickers to candy to wrapped presents for successful potty outings. Now that she has more control over the process, she manipulates the system to produce a success about twenty times a day. And bankrupting our present factory. So now we have to figure out how to ratchet down the magnitude of the rewards without inducing a potty strike. Because Madeline would totally go back to peeing her pants every single time on purpose just to teach me a lesson. She already has a fit if she gets the wrong present or if we don't accept without hesitation her declaration that she has successfully gone for the fifth time in twenty minutes. (On a side note, we're having a great debate about the fine line between letting her know we trust her and still facing the reality that a two year old's definition of "going potty" might be different than ours. Oh, the fun philosophical debates! Who knew potty training was so full of deep questions?) We also have to figure out how to get her from Pull-ups into regular underwear, because she has hysterics if we suggest the idea. Basically, we're just not going to mess with the situation for at least a week, because we're much too relieved that she's finally made some progress and might be totally potty-trained by kindergarten. Maybe. I won't hold my breath.

Only Fools Rush In

2011-04-01T14:54:00.003-06:00

Ah, APril Fool's Day. We sort of have a love/hate relationship of sorts. I adore the idea of April Fool's. I would love to get a reputation as the best prankster ever. But somehow the day rolls around and I just can't bring myself to play any good jokes. I'm either afraid people won't take the joke well, or can't think of anything good, or don't want to put the effort into a really masterful plan. So as much as I'd love to tell you I'm out to get you, you're probably pretty safe from me. Unless you care to leave your facebook password for me, in which case I'll try to cook up a little something just for you.

Jessie is a big fan of pranks. Apparently when he lived up at BYU Idaho, he and his roommates were notoriously cruel to their friends of the female persuasion. Once they left a garbage can full of milk and cereal leaning against their door. I told him he ought to have been locked up. He also thinks taking all the labels off of their food cans is hilarious. I think it's a waste of food. Apparently this is why I never pull off any great April Fool's jokes. When I was little, my sister and I put all our stuffed animals in trash bags and stuffed them in the shower so my dad couldn't get ready in the morning. We thought that was pretty clever. But then my dad decided to pull a joke of his own and made us believe he was livid about it and that we were going to be grounded for about a year. I blame him for my inability to pull a good joke. It was traumatizing. Which is why I can't bring myself to play any jokes on Madeline either, because I don't want to screw up the holiday for her.

On a related note, I was very disappointed when I checked facebook this morning to see that none of my friends were unexpectedly pregnant, moving, or dead. Things have gotten better, but really people! Let's have some drama! Only about 1/4 of you are having some sort of relationship or disaster related crisis, and I submit that number is much too low. This is why technology was invented. Come on.

And speaking of technology, I leave you with this little nugget of technological wonder. Just know that when my phone contract expires, I'm totally getting me one of these:

http://www.pomegranatephone.com/

Happy April Fool's everybody! Enjoy your merriment! I'll try to get into the swing of things. And scare the living daylights out of someone. But only because I care.

Cami's Guide on How to Seem More Organized.

2011-03-29T10:23:00.003-06:00

So the other day, we found out my mother-in-law was getting rid of a twin bed. And she graciously gave it to us, which is awesome, because quality sleeing equipment is expensive, people. And even though Madeline won't need to move out of her toddler bed for a while, I am all about anticipating the future here. So yesterday Jessie went and picked it up and brought it home. Madeline was practically dying all day to get the BIG BED. And when it appeared for about two minutes last night that she wouldn't be able to go get the bed with Dad our house turned into Crocodile Tears Central. It would have broken our hearts if it wasn't so funny. And then went she got to go it was like Christmas. And then when the bed actually got here...wow. I had no idea she would get so worked up. I wasn't going to try to move her for at least six months because I didn't see the need and Madeline is usually highly resistant to change. But at bedtime, Madeline climbed right on in to the big bed. So we let her stay there. But when we went up to bed ourselves and checked on her, she had migrated back to the toddler bed. I guess she wasn't ready for too much change. (Although the second she woke up this morning she went back to the big bed. We'll see where she ends up napping.)

In other news, we've decided to get organized around here. I don't know why. Maybe we're feeling motivated and disciplined because of our Get Fit plan. Which is going pretty decently. Except for the brownie binge yesterday. I can't help it that brownies are my Kryptonite. If you love me, you will come remove the brownie mixes from my pantry. Anyway. Back to the organization. Jessie has been wanting some of those can organizers that let you use cans in the order you buy them. But like beds, children and liposuction, those suckers are pricey. So Jessie had the brilliant idea of making our own. He went online and found a tutorial to make some out of cardboard boxes and glue. And got some boxes from our helpful neighbors. So now we have a pile of boxes and a plan. We'll let you know how hpthat turns out. We also decided to stock up on some food storage, in case all these earthquakes and the popularity of reality television mean the end of the world is coming, so now I have several cans of beans, oats, wheat, and rice and a book to tell me what to do with them (because the church, in marketing food storage, assumes correctly that I am an idiot. And that in the event of an emergency I will stare stupidly at my two years supply of wheat and go loot the nearest McDonalds. Because I hear their French fries will never grow mold. Natural food storage!) Other planned organizing projects include vague ideas of acquiring a filing cabinet, finally storing all of the clothes Kimberly has outgrown in her quest to be ten feet tall, and buying a chest to hide all the shoes that accumulate in front if the door. Don't these sound like great ideas? We think so. Maybe we'll just write a book about how to get organized and forgo the actual work of doing it. Sometimes I am a genius.

Basketball makes you fit and stuff.

2011-03-24T14:09:00.002-06:00

Why hello. Welcome Back from our basketball break. Let's just get the necessities over with so we can talk about other things. My bracket is doing decently, although I'm starting to regret picking Kentucky. Probably not the best idea. I'm loving the upsets and the close games. And the iPad. Because I've gotten to watch approximately 3.4 games on our big screen television because Madeline would rather watch Snow White or Megamind than the Best Sport Ever. Ridiculous. I really don't know who raised her. Maybe it's because her bracket sucks. WHABAM! JIMMERED! (Sorry to all of you who are sick of hearing about him. But really, it's your own fault. For not worshipping idols. Party poopers. All the cool kids are doing it.)

Anyway. There was other stuff after that awesome weekend. Kimberly's appointment went fine, and there were no post vaccination breakdowns. Except mine, because it meant I couldn't use a sick baby as an excuse to watch basketball. Oh well. By the way, Kimberly is very tall. And very hungry. We started her on rice cereal and she just looks at us adoringly as we shovel it into her mouth. She's also tried sweet potatoes this week, rolled over a couple more times (this is news because after doing it the first few times she went on strike for three weeks), and has learned to sit up on her own for 30 seconds to a few minutes before she flops over in surprise at her own daring.

Oh. And in other news, Jessie and I are pretending to get fit. I joined this facebook group of women in my ward who want to lose weight, and Jessie decided he could shed five pounds or so, and we decided to have a weight loss extravaganza. Usually these don't go well. But so far this week I've been pretty good, and this time we're dieting AND exercising (please hold your applause), and setting real goals, and sharing them for accountability, and having weekly weigh-ins, and doing all the legitimate stuff you do when you're hard core and amazing. So you can expect to see me on the cover of some ritzy fashion magazine about June. I would name a specific example as a nifty writing strategy to engage you, the reader, but I don't know any ritzy fashion magazines, and I don't want to guess lest you mock me. But I promise to learn their names when I'm the star model for one of them.

You Make Me Feel Like Dancing

2011-03-15T09:46:00.002-06:00

It's that time of year again. The thrill. The tears. The uncertainty. Digging deep. Flying objects. Lots of running. And that was just putting together my March Madness board with Madeline's help. But seriously, we're looking forward to the commencement of the games around here. Jessie and I are still hemming and hawing about our brackets, but the girls are settled and locked. Kimberly picked straight seeds, or in the case of the play-in games, alphabetically. The girl likes structure. (Really, I just couldn't think of any feasible way to have her pick 'games herself. But you don't get out of March Madness around here just because you're four months old. It's MANDATORY.) Madeline picked her games from flash cards with the team name, logo/mascot (whichever was easiest to grab off google), and seeding. For some reason she became fixated with Arkansas Little Rock, and they smashed opponent after opponent. Despite their incredibly lame logo. And became National Champion. Now I'm glad I didn't make Madeline put money on it, because people look down on you when you fleece your kids like that.

Anyway. Excitement levels around here are go. And I can't guarantee there will be anything on this blog besides basketball the next few weeks. We'll try. Kimberly does have a doctor's appointment today, so you may get a post tomorrow complaining about cranky baby syndrome if her vaccinations don't go well. In which case I may have to sit and hold her all afternoon and read articles about March Madness. My life is really difficult sometimes, but I don't mind sacrificing for my children.

In which we do not discuss that thing that happened.

2011-03-12T19:46:00.002-07:00

So, BYU didn't deliver today. And there was much sadness and cringing in the Warner household. But we're going to focus on the positive. So...not tonight's game. Yeah.

...

Okay. On the bright side, I went to the temple today for the first time in five months. Very refreshing. And it was also my first time ever going by myself. I am so awesome that way. Finally growing up and spreading my wings. The most awesome part of the whole night was the two old lady workers in the dressing room talking about the BYU/San Diego game. Except we're not talking about that. But seriously, it was funny, and I was grinning. But actually they were talking about rising taco prices. Because we can't talk about what they were really talking about.

...

Anyway, on the way there, I almost hit a teenager on a tricycle. No lie. At least it looked like a tricycle. Some kind of tricycle/scooter hybrid that looked entirely awkward with a teenager hunched over on it. Is this a new fad I am not aware of in my lame old person world? Probably. On the way home two hours later I almost hit two teenagers on tricycles. I think one of them was the one who almost died before. I think the universe is trying to tell these teenagers something. Probably that if Jimmer's almost buzzer beater doesn't count, they don't deserve to live. Except this happened before the game, back when we were allowed to talk about the game. Which we're now not talking about.

...

On one last sort of related note, while I was gone Madeline was watching some women's NCAA hoops and she said, "Look! Mommy is playing basketball! On TV!" And Jessie was all like, yes, that is most definitely your awesome MVP mother. She's the one making all the layups and rebounds and steals and stuff. And I felt validated that my two year old thinks I could play on a college level. (We can discuss this incident because although it is basketball related, it is not related to that other game we're not allowed to talk about. That one. You know. So don't mention it to me.)

...

Happy Daylight Savings!

Keep them wagons rolling

2011-03-09T20:50:00.002-07:00

Life rolls on here in Lehi, and we're doing crazy, awesome things. Being cool and incredible and all that. Speaking of rolling, guess who achieved that milestone today? That's right, we have a mobile baby. Sort of. Kimberly rolled over twice in quick succession and then refused to repeat the performance in front of her father, probably because she loves me more than Jessie. She was pretty pleased with herself. Madeline wasn't so pleased. Mostly because she enjoys being Kimberly's only means of movement and has been practicing rolling her over with efficiency and style. If Kimberly goes from rolling to crawling more quickly than her sister, it will be out of self preservation to escape Madeline's helpful overtures.

And speaking of Madeline, she continues to crack us up and provide most of the house's entertainment. We read scriptures in the morning before Jessie goes to work, which is a great idea, because I can pretend my closed eyes are a result of meditation. Madeline never really joins us, preferring to eat cereal or drive cars, and I was pretty sure she never heard a word. So you can imagine my surprise when she grabbed the scriptures after we were done yesterday and opened them up. This is how Madeline reads the scriptures: "And it came to pass that Daddy had Family Home Evening. In the name of Christ, Amen. And it came to pass." So I guess something is soaking in. Even if it's just a fancy phrase to begin stories for her friends.

How to be cranky. And how to get over it.

2011-03-02T15:23:00.003-07:00

So I decided anew today that I am not a morning person. In fact, I'm downright cranky. I can tell you this because it's now afternoon and I'm a functioning, rational human being. Madeline is a morning person like her father. They both like to laugh at me at seven A.M. when I'm trying desperately not to spit in their cereal or call them bad names I'll regret later. In honor of my struggles to wake up on the right side of the bed (which I think Jessie is probably sleeping on), here are some things that make me cranky. But that I have come to grips with now that it is full daylight.

1. Discount Book Sale. This is a lovely little website where Jessie ordered some books for me for my birthday, because they were dirt cheap. Well, we thought. It turns out they're dirt cheap because they sign you up for a twenty dollar a month membership without really telling you. It's in the fine print of the terms and conditions. Their website is pretty much designed to trick you into buying things without realizing you're signing up, so they can charge your credit card for the rest of your life without selling you any more cheap books. Oh, and they have you take a survey in which there is somewhere hidden a little box where you sell your soul to them so they can take all your information and give it to Rebate Giant, who then signs you up for a ten dollar a month subscription to their service that you also won't know about. A legal scam that just leaves warm fuzzies in your heart. Luckily, Jessie watches our financials like a hawk and caught the charges and got everything cancelled before we lost any money. And then reported them to the Better Business Bureau. After we discovered that googling the company will bring up pages and pages of complaints. Moral of the story: always check the BBB to see who the heck you're buying from when you shop online. Thanks for listening. I feel better now that I've trumpeted their crimes to the world.

2. Charlie Sheen. Normally I don't get worked up about celebrities, but we sat down and watched one of his television interviews last night and Jessie had to tell me to chill or he'd give me a sedative. Because that man is crazy. (I can say that even though I've never personally met him because I'm not a full-fledged psychologist, so I don't risk breaking any ethical codes. Booyah.) Also I'm pretty sure he hangs out with Satan and memorizes all his propaganda. And I will probably use him as my "Don't let this happen to you" when we give the girls the talks on not doing drugs. Sleep helped cool my ire, though, and now I just mostly feel sorry for him.

3. BYU basketball. Normally this makes me a happy camper. But naturally, hearing that we lost one of our starters has put a damper on my happy place. Not because BYU lowered the boom on him. I'm glad they didn't give him any special privileges for being a star athlete. And I'm not even mad at him anymore, although I was at first, because why when you're having a season like this would you do anything to mess it up or lose your focus? Then, after about 10 am when I became rational, I realized he probably didn't plan to do it as a way to screw over Utah (the state, not the school). And that even if he's not sorry, you probably won't find anybody having a worse day today then him. So my crankiness was less directed at anyone in particular and more of a feeling of that's just great. Because now instead of talking about whether BYU is the best teams in the country, ESPN is now holding a memorial service for what could have been and writing us off. Wonderful. In my now less cranky state, I just have to hope we can prove our team is about more than just one person (and who knew we'd be saying that about someone who isn't Jimmer?). I'm proud of our team regardless. Go Cougars. (This post is really getting pretty cathartic. I don't know if we can handle it.)

4. Mornings. Mornings make me very cranky. Did I mention that?

Alright. I've subjected you to enough venting for one day. So I leave you with a list of things that alleviate crankiness. In case you've been brought down to my level. Try them out and maybe you'll be singing and drawing rainbows in no time: chocolate, smiley babies, naps, tylenol, chocolate, cathartic blogging, winning stuff, chocolate, fuzzy socks, blasting the radio, potty trained children, chocolate, warm weather, funny toddlers, walks, chocolate. (Warning: I reccommend only trying the chocolate once or twice, regardless of how you may be tempted, or you will get fat. And getting fat does not alleviate crankiness. Thank you.)

Why the kitchen is my favorite room today.

2011-02-17T16:56:00.002-07:00

Today, while I was preparing dinner, I looked around at my rather...well, to be kind, let's just say lived-in kitchen. And as I looked around, I realized that even in her absence, you'd have no trouble figuring out that a little girl inhabits this place.

I'm not talking about the obvious tip-offs, like the pictures on the wall, or the play kitchen in the corner. No, my favorite signs are a bit more subtle. Like the traces of pink nail polish on the baseboards. The Disney princess boots sitting in the window. The stray sock under the blinds. The dried cereal and ramen noodles under one chair at the table. And if you happen to open the refrigerator, you'll see a plastic doll's bottle of milk carefully lined up next to a sippy cup of the same. The cuteness of which will hopefully distract you from the stick of butter that's been attacked by a butter knife or the string cheese that's been bitten in five places through the wrapping. And if you're really lucky, if you open the cupboard next to the fridge, you might find the little mischief maker herself, in all her sticky, smiley, guilty glory.

They told me to treasure moments like this, because they're gone all too soon. So I write about it and document it in hopes that it will make me smile instead of scowl. And what do you know, it really works. Until Madeline interrupts to show me the stack of papers she's pulled off the counter and scattered all over the kitchen floor. But even then, I'm grinning just a little bit.

You've been Jimmered!

2011-02-10T18:10:00.003-07:00

So I was giving a ride to my ten year old brother, taking him to the church where my dad is reffing some Young Men's basketball games, when we had this delightful little conversation. Background information: my dad and I had just a lengthy conversation about Jimmer Fredette and the whole letter to the editor "idol" controversy. My dad expressed his frustration at people who shout "Go Jimmer!" whenever anyone ever makes a basket at church games. Also, my brother is a huge BYU fan and plans to attend there someday. Also keep in mind that he is ten, so he is completely earnest throughout this conversation. No trace of sarcasm.

Me: So, do you like Jimmer? Or do you think people talk about him too much!

Brother: Who's Jimmer?

Me: He's BYU's star basketball player.

Brother: WOO! I LOVE JIMMER! YEAH! (pause) I thought he retired.

Me: No. He plays for BYU. He's really good. Hey, you know what? Dad would really think it was awesome if every time someone scored at the game tonight, you yelled "GO JIMMER!"

Brother: He would?

Me: Yeah. He'd think it was totally funny.

Brother: (after some deliberation)...No, I don't think I'm going to do that. I'll probably get in trouble.

Me: No, Dad would love it! You should do it!

Brother: No. I think I probably won't. Because everyone else there is Utes fans.

Me: That's why you should do it! Don't you want to make your team proud?

Brother: I don't want to make a fool of myself.

Me: No, see, what you should do is stand up in the middle of all the Ute fans and yell, "Jimmer is my idol!"

Brother: (thinks about it for a minute, and then says in a confused voice:) But I don't worship idols.

Me: (Laughing really hard): Ah, [Brother]. You are wise beyond your years.

Brother: I'm wise behind my ears?

Me: (laughing harder.)

Brother: Oh, I get it. Because my brain is behind my ears. So that's where I'm wise.

Because I don't think it's possible to avoid this subject for the next ten years

2011-02-09T19:16:00.003-07:00

So I vowed not to ever blog in detail about potty training. Because no one wants to hear about that. But unfortunately I am about to do just that. You've been warned. In my defense, when that's all you're trying to get your kid to think about all day, it starts to be all you're thinking about too.

Madeline has been rather fickle about potty training, We've been trying off and on for the past year to gauge her interest and jump on any enthusiasm for the project. She usually gets excited about it for a day or two, sits on the toilet a lot for a few days, has one or two successes, and then loses interest. I try to force her to keep going for a few days, and then lose patience and decide to give her a few weeks breather and try again later. Repeat every month.

Jessie has been rather excited about the project. No doubt if he was the one home all day with her, she'd have been fully potty trained three months ago through sheer force of will. Unfortunately he has this job he has to go to, so he comes up with these briliiant plans and leaves me to instigate them. So far we have tried sticker charts, presents when she succeeds, picking out and wearing princess panties, and denying her access to the iPad unless she uses the bathroom. She lost interest in the stickers and cries if we don't pick the right one or if we don't put it on her shirt. She got two presents and then lost interest in that. She liked wearing panties and gathered enough of the idea to go to the same spot in the kitchen to do her business. Then she asked for new panties, until we ran out. We thought the iPad would do it but she's been on strike and decided sitting on the toilet wasn't worth the privilege.

We've kind of been at an impasse. The today, after listening to the entire Rapunzal CD for the hundreth time this week (Thanks Grandma! I'm getting your son a bb gun for Valentine's day!), I decided to get rid of it permanently, using my daughter's own stubborness against her. I told her that we could only listen to Tangled if she was sitting on the potty. Then I prepared to put the cd on top of the fridge with the iPod and her pile of presents.

Surprise. She's been sitting on the potty for over half an hour singing "i've Got a Dream" and yelling "What's going to happen to the princess?!". And somehow even though this is supposed to be a victory for me, I feel like I've been duped.

Someday, ther will be no more potty training. And I'm going to buy myself some presents and give myself a whole booklet of stickers to celebrate.

Things that make my head hurt.

2011-01-25T10:42:00.002-07:00

So when I say I have midwinter blah headaches, I wasn't kidding. They invite themselves over every day. And thus my blog suffers. (See. I always have the best excuses. I should win some sort of contest.) And also suffering is the cleanliness of my house, the entertainment of my children, and my sanity. Also Jessie. But we don't have to worry about him because he's resourceful and he'll land on his feet. After a month of these lovely headaches, I was feeling a little bit like chopping off my own head and replacing it with a pumpkin. Instead I went to the doctor, because let's face it, no one has ever successfully replaced their head with a pumpkin, Ichabod Crane notwithstanding. The doctor was very helpful. He told me I had tension headaches. Thank you, doctor for enlightening me. I knew that much from google, because I am not a helpless fool on the Internet. Also I am a hypocondriac, so webMD is my friend. The doctor figures the headaches are from lack of sleep and neck pain from breastfeeding. So as soon as I have no children it should clear right up. In the meantime, I have doctor's permission to be perpetually drugged up and high on caffeine. So we are going to party like it's 1999 around here and see how addicted we can get to various substances.

But enough about me. Let's talk about crazy people. So I created a facebook event to let our families know about our upcoming baby blessing. And I left it public in case I forgot any family members, so they could see when and where and all that jazz. Then I went to check the guest list, to see who all was coming, and all these people had RSVPed. Random people I didn't know. Mostly friends of family members I invited. And I thought to myself, who are these crazy people? I know facebook isn't the most formal avenue to issue invitations, but isn't there still some basic etiquette? Like, don't invite yourself to the random baby blessings of people you don't know? Fortunately, most of them said they couldn't make it. Thank you, random stalker friend of friends. I'm pleased you saw fit to be polite enough to tell me you won't be able to make it, since I was definitely counting on your presence. Does it give you a sense of importance to RSVP to as many random events on Facebook as possible? Does it make you feel popular and your social calendar fuller? Of course, one or two of these people I don't know said they might be there. I'm curious to see if they show up. Because that would be a great story to tell at parties. Needless to say, I changed my privacy settings. Because you can only find so much humor in creepy Internet stalkers who don't follow the unwritten rules of internet stalking. Cardinal rule number one: stay under the radar.

A night off.

2011-01-21T17:58:00.003-07:00

So life here is still going. In case, like my mother, you get worried when you don't hear from me. Speaking of my mother, Tonight I manipulated my mother into taking Madeline for a sleepover. Or maybe she begged me to let her come. Either way, we both love Madeline to pieces and we routinely fight over who gets to get up with her at six in the morning, and drat, this time my mother won. So Jessie and I are enjoying a quiet night pretending we only have one child. Not something I'd choose to do every night, but for one Friday it's a pretty good gig. And it helps that Madeline loves hanging out at Grandma's, so we know she won't suffer for attention.

So other than that, there's not much to report in the Warner household, because we've kind of been lying low and doing the same thing every day, due to excessive mid winter blah headaches. Except Wednesday. Because Jessie got bored, having no Elder's Quorum meet ins this week, and decided he wanted to dye my hair. That is why I love the man. So now I'm a redhead. Or purplish in the right light. Awesome. So that's what we've been doing for entertainment. We'l let you know if we decide to do Jessie's next.

All About Kimberly

2011-01-12T20:20:00.006-07:00

May we take a moment to step back and achkowledge the fact that I didn't go a week between blog posts? No applause please, just throw money.

Anyway. In case someday, my children decide to kill a rainy Saturday reading old blog posts, I don't want to be accused of favoritism. And let's face it, I just want to share all the intimate details about my baby like when she poops and how much she eats and how long her fingernails are. So let us commence the blogpost dedicated to that star of our household: Kimberly Leona Warner!

The poor girl had her two month dictor's appointment, and it turns out she's my little chunk, weighing in at 12 pounds 9 ounces. Two and half pounds more than her sister at the same age, despite starting out smaller. Hooray for chubby babies! She falls in the 90th percentile for height and weight. So much for my tiny newborn. Unfortunately, she does not like vaccines. About four hours after receiving the shots, she melted into a screaming ball of insanity. Madeline levels of loud death screams from my normally happy and chill offspring. Large doses of Tylonel have calmed her to manageable proportions, but she still lets you know she's sore if you move her legs at all. So we're having a fun day.

But let's talk about how Kimberly is when she's not building up immunity to serious diseases. She's a bundle of fun now, smiling at anybody who'll give her the time of day. The girl loves attention and has a grin that has roughly the same effect on my brain as cocaine. (No really. I read a study that says it's true.) she doesn't like tummy time, but what baby does like having their face shoved into the floor? She eats well and naps well as long as she's away from Madeline. (Although she got her revenge today with her vaccine induced tantrum and woke Madeline up for a change. I knew Maddie would get her comeuppance someday.) She's become quite the talker and tells us crazy stories, making me really excited to hear her explanations for being late for curfew in fifteen years. She's usually at her cutest at four in the morning when I'm trying to get her back to bed, and routinely keeps me up longer than I was planning on, enjoying the cocaine high. Of course, I always regret this at 6:30 when morning comes knocking on my eyelids, but that doesn't kep me from making the same mistake the next night. Darned baby smiles.

So that's Kimberly in a nutshell. We're pretty glad she hangs out with us all the day. If you don't have a Kimberly, we recommend them highly. But you have to get your own. This one is taken.

All about Madeline

2011-01-10T13:56:00.003-07:00

Hello world. I've decided it's time for a very Mormon post describing the ridiculously funny things my two year old says, does, or believes. Or maybe the mildly funny things. Basically, this is what Jessie and I do for entertainment, so naturally we can't imagine that anyone else wouldn't want a dose of Madeline in their lives. Feel free to disagree. Quietly where we can't hear you.

Basically, Madeline has strange ideas about the world, and when you say something to her once, you'd better be prepared to hear it for the rest of time. My favorite was when we were at my mother-in-law's and Madeline was trying to play with her dog (whose name is Misty, but she calls her Kiss-me. I love that.). Misty wasn't cooperating, so Madeline said, very loudly and very angrily, "Listen to ME Kiss-me! One-two-three TIMEOUT! Listen to ME! NO! NO! DON'T!" The tone of her voice floored me, because it was like listening to a recording. Whoops. Time to work on those parenting skills if I'm going to get tattled on in front of Grandma. We might be making progress, because she still routinely sends her dolls and toys to timeout, but she asks them nicely. Most of the time.

Madeline has also come up with a unique way of dealing with her anxieties. Jessie told her once there was "no reason to be scared" of the dark, and she's latched onto that phrase like a piranha. She talks to herself as she's going to bed and says, "No reason to be scared of the dark. Leave all the lights on? No reason to be scared." There's also no reason to be scared of the neighbor's drums, other loud noises, and scary moments in movies.

Madeline got a dollhouse for Christmas, and she's in love. We like it too, because it gives us a pretty good glimpse into the Mind of Madeline, which is an interesting and sometimes bizarre place. Her dolls do everything we do, including going to bed, making all the meals, driving to work, playing horsey on Daddy's back, dancing with, kissing and hugging one another, and so on. The best is when she shoves the mommy out the second story window, and then the daddy comes running and assists her back into the house via the door to "get better". So she can push her out the window again. Nice to know she has respect for motherly figures.

Madeline has also rekindled her love affair with Mary Poppins, who is now known as Peter Poppins for reasons unknown. Her new favorite part of the movie is when the bank manager takes Micheal's tuppence and causes a riot. She likes to get the chips out of our Sequence game and run around with them saying "My money! Don't take my money! Give me back my money!"

Well, that's a decent sampling of what it's like to live with Madeline. Minus the incessant Toy Story talk and lack of any interest in potty training. And now you'll have to excuse me to take a nap. Because Madeline was up from 4-5:30 last night turning the hall lights on and off in order to look at the glowing stars on her ceiling. Don't you wish she was your kid? (No really. Don't you? Because I'm renting her out from 8 pm to 7 am. Reasonable rates.)

In honor of Auld Lang Syne

2010-12-31T21:05:00.002-07:00

I know I haven't blogged in too long when Jessie notices my lack of witty anecdotes. I did tell you I would be slacking off. And between a wonderful Christmas, the whole family down with colds, and a few other personal family matters, I didn't have the time or heart to be blogging. But I can't let the calender roll over to 2011 without registering my existence in the virtual world. So, for your pleasure, here is Cami's Annual New Year's Thoughts of Importance! Otherwise known as my fake New Year's Resolution list. I thought about actually making *gasp* real resolutions, but dismissed that idea on the grounds that it would make me accountable and perhaps inspire actual change. Ugh. So instead, I have decided to make a list of the top ten things I resolve NOT to do this year. It's so much easier than being proactive and accomplishing things.

Unresolved:

1. I will not learn Spanish. I've been meaning to learn Spanish ever since I married Jessie so that someday we can serve a mission together to parts Spanish speaking. Except for the first few months when I learned to say "sinners can repent and see the light" and "my husband is handsome", I have not learned any Spanish. I will now assuage my guilt by committing to make no organized effort to become proficient this year.

2. I will not travel to Boston in the fall. You laugh, but I actually wanted to do this. Jessie and I had big plans. Then we decided that an appendectomy, a new baby, a new dishwasher, student loans, a van, and food all rank above airline tickets on the list of things we wish to pay for. So flying to Boston in the fall might be driving to Denver in the summer. Same thing.

3. I will not try to be fashionable. I tried a few times this year. I felt proud until I realized a) most of the fashions nowadays do not flatter post pregnant bodies and b) I have no idea what is fashionable nowadays. So I will stick to trying not to look dorky. And not wearing mom jeans.

4. I will not have dinner on the table every single night when Jessie gets home from work. Most nights, maybe. Every night is too much pressure. And when I don't have dinner ready or at least planned when he walks through the door, I feel guilt. So it's time to do something about that. Either way, I'm not going to make dinner every night. This way I can feel like I'm furthering my goals and becoming wiser. Score.

5. I will not let Jessie beat me at Scrabble. We play together on the iphone and ipad. Jessie is getting better and better, but remains bitter that he hasn't beaten me yet. I intend to keep it this way. Unless he beats me. In which case I let him to keep our marriage intact and boost his self-confidence.

6. I will not eat snails. This should be pretty easy to do since I have never eaten them in my life, and there is not a lot of peer pressure to do so in my neck of the woods. I just wanted to add it to the list to boost my success rate.

7. I will not start a band. My neighbors will appreciate this gesture of goodwill and harmony.

8. I will not try to cut my own hair. I may or may not have done this in the past week in an attempt to save money, under the mistaken assumption that it is easy to "just trim" hair. Turns out this is false if you are doing it to yourself and have zero hair cutting experience. On an unrelated note, I really need to visit a salon.

9. I will not pick any 16 over 1 upsets for March Madness, no matter how much Jessie attempts to convince me there is a first time for everything and optimistically and fool-heartedly makes this rookie mistake in his own bracket.

10. I will not apologize at the start of every blog for not blogging a week. Hopefully this will be a combination of the fact that I am blogging more than once a month and that I have accepted that those who read my blog are acquainted with my habits and used to my flakiness.

So there it is. My firm resolve to be passive and unproductive this year in the name of improvement and progression. Hopefully you'll all be as lucky in accomplishing your goals and aspirations. Happy New Year, everyone. You'll excuse me now, as I really need to take a nap now. Wake me when it's midnight.

My weekly update on our coolness and other amazing details.

2010-12-16T20:52:00.003-07:00

So I always have really good excuses for not blogging for forever. Which makes me really cool. This time it is an infection that knocked me out for a weekend, a constipated baby, and general busyness doing Christmas shopping, seeing family, and other cool stuff like that. And since it's almost Christmas, I'll probably slack off some more in the coming weeks. Hooray for slackers (and my house shows it too. For all the same excuses, my house is kind of a mess. But for that one I also throw in the whole new baby excuse.)

Anyway, now that we're done with the requisite apologizing, we can discuss cool things. Like Madeline. Madeline is cool this week because she has reached new heights of defiance in public places. I keep thinking we've reached the threshold, but then she continues to amaze me. I knew my daughter had special talents. We spent half of sacrament meeting last week in an empty classroom throwing tantrums on the floor, part walking in and out of the chapel and screaming, and a small portion in another empty classroom having a long lesson about reverence and showing respect to Heavenly Father. Which she promptly forgot entirely when we tried to reenter the chapel for the closing prayer. We also spent a fair amount of time this week putting on a show for local shoppers in various retail locales. I'm sure they were amused by our game of tag through the stores, the kicking and screaming on the floor, and the parts where I gave up trying to control her and let her rip apart the toy displays. I'm a little tired of being THAT mother in the store. That you are either laughing at, judging, or pitying. Depending on your experience with young children.

But in other news, my other progeny continues to give me hope for the rising generation and counter Madeline's attempts to stop our family growth at two. Other than the whole constipation thing, which is really rather sad, she continues to be a dream. Last night she actually slept for seven and a half hours. She usually sleeps for five or six anyway. Go ahead, hate me. I would feel guilty, but I feel like it's a compensatory gift for enduring Madeline's first six months of life. Or something. I probably don't deserve it at all, but let's not analyze it, lest we kill a good thing. And in other good news for my sanity, I'm done with my Christmas shopping and feeling great. (Wow, I'm a braggart today, huh?) So life, overall, is pretty festive and awesome. Hope you are half as cool as us over here in Warnerville. (Kidding. Totally kidding. I'm just feeling annoyingly chipper today, apparently. Long naps and brownies will do that to you.)

Milestones and merriment

2010-12-08T17:08:00.002-07:00

Well, we've officially made it to one month. The hormonal mother inside me cringes to write that. Because Kimberly is much better at eating than Madeline was, she's chunking up a lot faster. (My baby has rolls of leg fat! Hallelujah!) But this means she's not a tiny newborn anymore, and that makes me sort of want to cry. But I am cheered by the fact that she's now more alert, and therefore more fun to play with. We have wars sticking our tongues out at each other. And somehow with all the poking and prodding and dumping her sister out of her bouncer chair, Madeline earned the first smiles of Kimberly's life that I'm fairly certain were not motivated by gas. Which I think is not really fair, but since I am unwilling to hit the baby in order to keep up in the popularity contest, I've resigned myself to the fact that Madeline will always be cooler than Mom to her little sister.

Life has actually been pretty busy, even with a newborn. We're gearing up for Christmas. we managed to motivate ourselves enough to make Christmas cookies, although we haven't yet summoned up the energy to deliver them. Maybe some of our neighbors will get some before I eat them all and blame the extra weight on the baby. Madeline has helped wrapped some presents (sorry to anyone who gets presents from us), and we made a Christmas chain to count down to the joyous day. And Madeline learned to say "ho, ho, ho". So pretty much we're a festive bunch around here.

Why Jessie is cooler than the rest of us.

2010-12-04T21:48:00.002-07:00

So tonight was Jessie's work party. Since he now works for a real company, it was a swanky affair at UVU, complete with some delectable prime rib and John Schmidt. But the best part is that his company gives out really awesome raffle prizes, like four big screen televisions, x-boxes, stereo systems, gift cards to restaurants, ski passes, and other cool stuff. Since Jessie has insane luck when it comes to winning things, we were somewhat optimistic about our chances. Which led to a conversation on the way to the party about who got to keep any cool prizes. I told Jessie that since he already got an iphone, tons of free shirts, a nice backpack, a jacket, and other swag from work, that anything less cool than an iphone that he managed to score would be given to me. The poor wife who doesn't get free stuff. He agreed, with the stipulation that if he won an ipad, he got to keep it.

Guess who won an ipad.

Punk.

On the bright side, I'll probably get to use it all the time anyway. If I can keep it away from Madeline and her rabid desire to watch Sesame Street on Youtube.

Bringing up Baby. And Baby's Nemesis, Toddler.

2010-11-24T17:07:00.007-07:00

So. Two kids. I've been doing this double duty mothering thing for a couple of weeks now, so I can tell you exactly what it's all about. (For my two kids only, of course. For any general knowledge on actually raising any amount of children, go ask your mother. I'm totally winging it here.) Basically, the baby is easy. Either Madeline was twenty times harder, or I've gotten slightly smarter. I'm inclined to believe it's a combination of having an idea what I'm doing this time and having a very chill baby who does her best to make life good for me. Kimberly sleeps well, eats well (she's already gained a pound on her birth weight), and hardly cries. She almost always takes naps whenever I want her to, and a bad night is waking up twice and getting the hiccups so that she can't go back to sleep. I am definitely, definitely spoiled so far, and probably just jinxed myself. Expect a post tomorrow about my ultra fussy, sensitive, sleepless newborn who poops all over the carpet and throws rowdy parties at one in the morning for all her newborn friends.

No, the hardest part about having a newborn this time is definitely having a toddler. Outwardly Madeline loves the baby-to a fault. She loves to hold her, touch her, poke her, and in all other ways smother her with affection. But her other behavior would indicate she definitely has jealousy issues. She likes to randomly hit, kick, poke, and otherwise torment her sister. She has definite separation anxiety with both Jessie and I. We're talking fits when Jessie goes to meetings, crying when I go up the stairs too fast so she can't see me, and freaking out going to nursery, which she normally has no problem with. And nightmare tantrums when it's time for naps or bed. She also desperately wants to be the baby, manifested by her sudden desire to be changed on a blanket or changing pad, sticking binkies in her mouth, needing a glass of milk whenever I nurse the baby, and wanting to be held and carried. It's terribly amusing when it's not terribly frustrating. Seriously, the number of times Kimberly has made me cry since being born: 0. The number of times Madeline has made me cry since Kimberly was born: a few more than that. Fortunately, the hormonal crying fits have also been significantly less this time around. Less wasted tissues and headaches. So we're working on the toddler situation and assuring Madeline we're not putting her up for adoption now that there's someone quieter in the house. On a brighter note, hearing her apologize to Kimberly is pretty adorable. And we get the opportunity to hear it often.

Let us not be downhearted over Madeline's insecurities. Overall, life really is significantly less stressful and sleep-deprived than I imagined it would be. This parenting gig is pretty sweet compared to a nine to five job. Or at least that's what I tell Jessie when the poor slob has to go to work in the morning while I watch Toy Story. How I love Woody and Buzz.

Mawige. Mawige is what brings us...you know the rest.

2010-11-21T13:47:00.006-07:00

Well, I'm sure you're all dying to know what life is like with two little munchkins. But your thirst for information will have to wait a day or two, because it's time for our annual Jessie love-fest, in which you humor my mormon-mommy-blogger need to tell you about how cool my husband is, to feed our egos. That's right folks, Jessie and I have officially been married four years today. It feels like a lot less when I write it down. Since we're so awesome and knowledgeable about matrimony and stuff, we're pretty pleased to have achieved this milestone despite the rumors from the paparazzi that Jessie was leaving me to study the penguins in Antarctica, or that I was running away to focus on my belly dancing career. Allow me to regale you with the most awesome parts or our union over the past year, and why I'm glad I went through them with Jessie instead of, say, George Jetson.

1. We found my wedding ring in an unlikely place after Jessie had magnanimously decided he loved me enough to buy me a new one even though it could have provided him with a handy excuse for running away to Antarctica. I believe I detailed at the time how delighted I was, so I'll spare you the sappiness.

2. We cemented our love watching the Olympics, and I decided that Jessie and I should get in training to win a figure skating gold medal. Because how cool and romantic and good for your marriage would that be? Then I remembered I have no sense of balance, and can't ice skate. And I was bummed for a minute, but then I remembered Jessie loved me anyway. So now we're going for the Nobel prize in physics together. Just as soon as we can get Madeline to sit still for the photon laser.

3. We found out we were having kid #2. And wondered if we were crazy. And endured a long pregnancy of hospital visits, morning sickness, crazy hormones, and other such unpleasantness. (And that was just Jessie. Believe me, I was feeling even worse.) And we still liked each other enough when it was all said and done to hang out together in labor and delivery and have a baby. Of which I'll post a picture, because let's face it: this post may be about Jessie, but we all want some baby pictures. (Of which I will post more once I unload a camera.)
4. We survived an appendectomy, and in the process avoided going on the annual Antimony trip. Both of which were good for our marriage and brought us together. Because Jessie had to stay home and hang out with me for a few days, and went nuts being on sick leave and cleaned the house as he is wont to do. Going through medical crises is great with Jessie. I have less housework to do for a week.

5. Jessie got a new job with a lot of perks, because he is awesome. Now he lets me play with his iphone and brings home free t-shirts and has real work parties. Oh, and he does work for his new company too, but we don't like to talk about that. As always, his nerdy work side and his obsession with geeky computer programs is endearing. And it's pretty nice he brings home a paycheck too, to pay for those pesky things like food and diapers and new shoes.

There was probably more eventful things in our fourth year of marriage, but with post-pregnancy brain I can't remember them. So, let me sum up: Being married is pretty awesome. Jessie is still a pretty great guy. Stuff happens in our life and I'm always glad Jessie is here to deal with/enjoy it with me. Because misery loves company and happy people do too. So happy anniversary, Jessita. It's been a ball. Let's do more cool stuff.
(And here for your viewing pleasure is the requisite wedding photo that these posts must have. See how in love we are. Jessie is one handsome devil in a tux.)

Kimberly "The bomb" Warner

2010-11-09T14:15:00.007-07:00

Well, for those who haven't heard (all 2.5 of you), the little one is here! And we're just hanging out enjoying her. This momentous occasion means my normally non-visual blog deserves some pictures:

Introducing the amazing, the one, the only, Kimberly Leona Warner! Born November 8, 2010. 7 lbs 12 oz, 19 1/2 inches, 1794.32 on the Warner scale of cuteness. An absolute joy in the day we've had her. So, some frequently asked questions (or just stuff I want to make up):

The birth story: I'm not way into posting about every detail of labor. So no blow by blow of every dilation and push and whatnot. But an overview: I was induced one day past my due date. And no offense to all those people who love natural labors with minimal interventions, but it was fantastic. It was so relaxing to know when I was having the baby, to arrange for babysitting for Madeline, get all packed, enjoy a shower and all that jazz, and leisurely set everything up at the hospital. Getting an IV before you're in the midst of contractions is more awesome than in the midst of them. Anyway, the labor was about six hours, I had an awesome epidural, everything was fairly painless and easier than with Madeline, and Kimberly made her debut healthy and happy. And mom was healthy and happy too. Moral of the story: induction and epidurals are, in my opinion, the bomb.

The name: No story behind Kimberly. We just like it. We are well aware that she will probably end up being called by various people Kim, Kimber, Kimmy, Lopy, and CutestGirlEver. But for now, we call her Kimberly. Leona is my grandmother's name. My grandmother is also the bomb. Jessie would like to point out that Warner is our last name. Which is why it is also hers. We are also the bombs.

The baby: So far Kimberly has been a good baby. Which is what all mothers are obliged to say unless their babies have colic or sneak out at night to meet boys. She eats well, likes to sleep, likes to be held, poops well, and so far has a much quieter cry than our siren Madeline. So life is good. She has a lot of hair, cute chubby cheeks, and no longer kicks me at one in the morning. All reasons she is the bomb.

The sister: Madeline appears to adore the baby from the limited time she has been allowed to be in the same room with her. She has also tried to poke her eyes out, but we don't talk about that. She doesn't seem to grasp the concept that it's the same baby that has been much conversed about from my tummy, and she definitely prefers the name Lopy to Kimberly. Results on what happens when you keep them in the same house for more than half an hour are forthcoming. But I feel obliged to let you know that Madeline is also the bomb. Lest you accuse me of favoring one of my children.

The dad: Jessie likes the baby. He likes talking about his girls. He does not like sitting around hospital rooms, but does it anyway because he likes being a martyr. He was very helpful and supportive during labor as husbands should be, but probably only because there were about ten nurses sitting around ready to beat him up should he show any signs of not being the bomb.

The mom: Cami is pretty awesome. Feeling, all in all, about ten times better than after Madeline's labor. Enjoying the room service and all the buttons to move beds, turn on televisions, shut doors, and build Lego towers without having to expend energy. Cami is not the bomb. Cami is the bomb's mother.

The bomb: The bomb has been diffused. Nothing will be blowing up in the near future.

All other inquiries should be directed to our office of public affairs, located on the fifth floor. Life is good. We leave you with the visual representation of life being the bomb. Please feel free to disregard the strange look on my face and enjoy the baby cuteness and Jessie actually making an appropriate picture face.

Our last weekend in what we pretend is normalacy.

2010-11-06T14:00:00.003-06:00

Hey sports fans. I could regale you with tales about how delighted I am BYU is actually playing football today, or how much I really hope TCU creams Utah today. (Please, hold your hate mail. I know many of you are Ute fans with great arguments about why Utah should win. Stuff it. You won't change my mind.) But I know the action you're all interested in is the athletic debut of the newest Warner spawn. Since there's been no action on that front this week, we're resigning ourselves to waiting until Induction Monday. The biggest sporting event of the year. Two days and counting. Not that I'm counting. Okay, you caught me. I'm totally counting. It's kind of hard not to when you're two days away. Your brain just sort of automatically calculates these sorts of things.

Anyway. I'm basically freaking out a little bit, and trying to think of things we need to do before we can have a baby, and realizing it's all pretty much done. And there's nothing to do but wait. Madeline keeps encouraging her younger sister to make an entrance by yelling through my belly button. Jessie is all for drinking the castor oil to get things rolling. I'm all of a sudden wondering if I'm ready to parent a toddler and a newborn and realizing it's much too late to be asking these questions. So off we go to D-day. Next time you hear from me, we should be announcing big things. Name, weight, social security number. All the good stuff. Wish us luck.

Letter to Lopy

2010-11-03T09:26:00.002-06:00

Dear Jalopy,

This is your mother. As much as I have loved being your snug little home the past nine months, it's becoming painfully obvious to me that either you or one of my major organs has got to go. This whole sharing space thing isn't working anymore. And since I'm rather fond of my bladder, stomach, and lungs (as bladders, stomachs and lungs go), I thought it might be nice if you'd decide to make your appearance in the world. Immediately. Since this would also keep you from banging your head on my pelvis and being kicked by your older sister during diaper changes, I'm confident this would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. I promise we'll be nice and feed you often and dress you in reasonably fashionable clothes. Trust me, onesies are all the rage with newborns right now. Anyway, my hips and I would both appreciate celebrating your birthday today. Thanks for your consideration.

Lovingly,

Your mother

P.S. That's my nice, diplomatic way of saying Get Out. In case you didn't catch that. Being a fetus and all.

Happy Halloween! (And I'm still pregnant. Surprise.)

2010-11-01T09:57:00.003-06:00

It's officially November. And I'm really excited, because that means we're having a baby this month. In a week, actually. I'm officially scheduled for induction on the 8th if Jalopy hasn't made her appearance before then, so there is a light at the end of the tunnel. We're officially taking bets on when she'll show up. The entrance fee is a plate of cookies, to be left on my doorstep, and you can submit your choice of date telepathically. If you guess correctly, you can have the satisfaction of knowing your cookies were definitely my favorite. And that you are the smartest person ever.

Actually, we really don't need any cookies, because between Jessie's work party and two trunk or treats, Madeline managed to bring home at least six months worth of junk food. Which will disappear in two weeks if I'm not disciplined. Madeline went as Dorothy to the Friday activities, and I was the wicked witch. On Saturday she dressed as a Broncos cheerleader to match her uncle Bryce who was a Broncos football player. They may be having a bad season, but the whole team will probably be comforted by the cute pictures we got. Jessie was a nerd to match the rest of the people in his department at work. So basically, he just went to work as usual but we added a pair of glasses. (Kidding, Jessie. We all know you usually wear a tuxedo to work.) All in all, it was an awesome holiday. And we made it through the actual Halloween day without having a baby, which was a relief, because it was the one day I was firmly committed to not going into labor. No Halloween babies for us. Because birthdays on Halloween=way too much sugar and hyperactivity.

Out of the mouths.

2010-10-21T11:21:00.002-06:00

Madeline is getting quite independent, as always, and the latest manifestation of this is wanting to say her own prayers. This is how her last prayer went for lunch:

"Heavenly Father. Bless this day. And the pumpkins and the ghosts. And then a nap. When it is dark. It's not dark yet. Light outside. And at work. Bless Daddy at work...(with prompting) bless the food. And Jayden's party. Name of Christ. Amen."

I'm pretty sure we'll keep this girl. Because when she's not making me cry,I'm laughing hysterically. Although the other day I asked her to pick up her toys repeatedly. Finally I said, "It would make mommy so happy if you picked up your toys." She turned her back on me and ran away. Then she looked back, smirked, and said, "Mommy sad." Little punk. In other news, if we watch Cinderella one more time this week, the DVD might accidentally get lost. Because I can only sleep through it about 100 times before I need a change of pace.

Thinking about babies and baby brothers who aren't babies.

2010-10-16T10:01:00.003-06:00

Not much has changed around here lately, because I've officially entered waiting mode. Pretty much nothing can hold my attention for long except wondering when this little girl will decide to make an appearance. I've made up my mind it won't be for three weeks until her actual due date to try and avoid disappointment, but that's hard to remember when everyone keeps telling me it could be anytime. Drat all the well-wishing and kind people I run around with. We had another doctor's appointment and things are progressing well. I'm dilated to a 2, which basically means she could hang out there for another month or make a surprise appearance tomorrow (just because it's my brother's farewell and I told Jessie I cannot go into labor this weekend because I'm too busy.) You know that you, the blogging world and my facebook acquaintances, will be at least in the top 50 people I tell, so be sure to wait eagerly for any unexpected updates. But don't wait too eagerly or you'll throw off my calm, collected, patient waiting.

In the meantime, we're keeping busy so that I have as little time as possible to brood. Madeline and I have been doing a lot of shopping and thinking about getting ready for Halloween. (We don't actually do anything because we object to productivity around here.) Although the other day, thanks to some on the ball neighbors, I actually did a Halloween craft. Me. An honest to goodness craft. And it doesn't look like a first grader did it. I may have to post pictures. Until then, I don't blame you for being skeptical. And this weekend will be busy, as I mentioned, because my little brother is giving his last talk in church before his mission. Formerly known as a farewell. I can't believe the little squirt is actually old enough to go, but he assures me it's true, and since he has to shave every day, I'm starting to believe him. I better go warn the people of Chile so they'll know what they're getting into.

More Madeline.

2010-10-11T16:15:00.002-06:00

So I know you have all been waiting with baited breath to hear more about our favorite resident toddler maniac. Because she almost never makes an appearance on this blog. Madeline has been undergoing some changes, and I'm not sure if they're natural toddler phases or a response to the big change coming up, but we're just trying not to get thrown for a loop every time she decides to mix things up. Currently, she's on a hair strike. Which means if I try and get near her head with a brush or comb, she screams bloody murder and runs away and hides. So we're doing a lot of headbands, because they're the only thing she'll let me put in. We're also on a nap strike. After a phase where she was waking up at 5 every morning for almost a week, we started putting her to bed earlier in hopes that she would cease and desist. It worked like a charm and she started sleeping in until seven. And promptly gave up napping. And I cried. But given the choice between getting up at five or giving up my nap in favor of an extra hour of peace and quiet in the evening, I am reluctantly giving up on napping.

Madeline has also been acting out more and more as she's realized the advantage she has over me in energy and tenacity. Somewhere along the line she realized that I can't physically make her do what I want because I am too fat and slow and tired. So certain activities have become a battle, and putting her on timeout has become almost impossible because she just refuses to stay there. The other day I tried and she slapped me in the face. We also experienced our first full-fledged store tantrum today. We've had minor tantrums before, but never on the floor, kicking and screaming fits. Those have generally been reserved for home viewing. But today, I was that mother trying desperately to ignore the looks as my daughter collapsed in the front of the grocery store and screamed and kicked and generally made a scene. And I promptly vowed to never judge anyone with unruly children again. If your child is a well-behaved angel in stores, at home, and in general, please refrain from giving me looks when mine is in full revolt. You have no idea how easily it could be you.

Anyway. That's the scoop on our little fireball. The maddening thing is that she's still as adorable as ever, and entirely too good at making me forget how terrible her tantrums can be. And her sweet moments are just as intense and more unforgettable than the bad ones. So crazy me, I'm looking forward to what I'm sure will be another little fireball with great anticipation. A true glutton for punishment.

Rude Awakenings.

2010-09-30T21:58:00.002-06:00

As you can tell from my last post, we've been having fun around here. Madeline has all of a sudden become a great fan of temper tantrums. My normally sweet, well-behaved little girl is still sweet and well-behaved- if you don't try to make her do anything she doesn't want to do or punish her for misbehavior. We've been trying to remain sane and remember Madeline is a two year old who isn't intentionally trying to drive us into the nut house. The fun continued this morning, however, when Madeline woke up at 5:45 and came running into our room wide awake. She then proceeded to hop into the middle of the bed and take up more space than should be feasibly possible for two and a half foot munchkin.

Being the great parents we are, Jessie and I tried to ignore her and sleep anyway. But after twenty minutes of getting pummeled and climbed on and getting edged ever closer to the side of the bed, I found I couldn't ignore Madeline anymore when she literally kicked me out of bed. Luckily I landed on a body pillow I keep on the floor next to me. And oddly enough, my first feeling at hitting the floor was relief that I was away from Madeline and now only being kicked by one child. (Madeline is already pretty good at waking up her little sister when I don't want her to. A skill I'm sure she will continue to perfect.) It was actually fairly comfortable on the floor, and I wasn't fighting anyone for space. But my solitude only lasted about two minutes, when Madeline became concerned when I didn't come back up to the bed and jumped down to find me. And I discovered having a twenty-five pound child cannonball onto your stomach is definitely more uncomfortable than being kicked out of bed by said twenty-five pound child. Then the poking and prodding and kicking began again, and I gave up on getting any more sleep.

With that kind of start to the day, I was pleasantly surprised that we managed to make it through the day without any major nervous breakdowns or dissolving into tears. Madeline and I are actually back on good terms and enjoying each other's company. Here's hoping the good times continue. And that tomorrow we get to sleep past 6 am.

The story of lunchtime.

2010-09-28T14:06:00.002-06:00

Around noon I tried to get Madeline to eat lunch. I asked her repeatedly what she would like and if she was hungry. I gave her several examples and options. She totally ignored me for twenty minutes. I gave up and went to load the dishwasher.

Five minutes after I started doing dishes, she came into the kitchen and threw herself on the floor and screamed. "Lunch!"

I am trying to be patient. "What do you want? Yogurt? A sandwich? Pancakes?" She pulls out a piece of cheese from the refrigerator and starts to unwrap it. "Okay. You can have a cheese sandwich."

"No. No pancakes. No sandwich. Cheese!"

"You can't have just cheese. You have to eat it on a sandwich."

"No! Madeline open the cheese!"

Repeat this conversation six times. I give up again and go back to doing dishes. Five minutes later Madeline gets in the fridge, pulls out a loaf of bread, and screams, "Sandwich!"

"Okay. Would you like a cheese sandwich or a jelly sandwich?"

"No jelly. No cheese. Bread!"

"You can't have a sandwich with just bread. Would you like cheese on your bread?"

"No. No jelly. No meat. No cheese. Bread!"

Repeat three times until I give up and just make her a baloney and cheese sandwich without asking her permission. She climbs up into her chair, screaming the whole time, and I give her the sandwich and go to make pancakes for myself. Two minutes later, she screams that she wants to get out. I look and she has had one small piece of baloney.

"You didn't eat anything. Will you eat some more?"

"No! Get out!"

"Do you want some pancakes?"

"No! No pancakes! Get out!"

Repeat four times. (Starting to sound familiar?) I give up and let her out and finish making my pancakes while she has hysterics on the floor because she wants her nose wiped and I haven't done it because it's unclear what she wants when she's speaking in gibberish and yelling into the floor. I sit down to eat and ask her if she will stop crying and ask me clearly what she wants.

"Please pancakes!" she sobs.

I get her some pancakes while she cries because I'm breaking it into small pieces and cries because I'm putting syrup on it for her, and cries when I stop putting on the syrup because she's screaming "no syrup!" and starts screaming "please syrup!". We sit down to eat.

We eat for about thirty seconds when she demands I refill her juice. And then has a fit because she wants to put the lid back on her cup herself. And then cries because the lid is on and she can't get it off. And then cries when I take it off.

We have a very pleasant lunch, punctuated by screaming every ten seconds because a) her juice lid is not acceptable b) she needs her nose wiped again c) she wants cookies d)I have two vitamin pills to take and she has only one e) her sandwich is still visible on the other side of the table f) life is a hard, miserable existence and she is clearly being abused.

We finish lunch and I have decided, at this point, that someone must be either sick or exhausted and should go down for a nap early. Madeline screams at me for trying to wash her hands and wipe her nose, and then because her nose isn't wiped, and then because she is tired. Then she runs away while I clean up lunch.

She proceeds to play happily and without complaint with her toys for the next hour and a half, a smile on her face, without once asking me to do anything except try on a pair of sunglasses.

I give up on life, decide my daughter is bipolar, and start searching online for boarding schools that take bipolar two year olds with snotty noses.

I love it when the month changes.

2010-09-27T17:17:00.002-06:00

We're almost to October, and I can't convey how excited that makes me. Because there is a fairly decent chance I could have a baby in October. (Although I'm still resigning myself to November. Let's not get foolishly optimistic.) At any rate, I will be full-term this month. And October should have a lot of things to keep me busy and speed us towards the due date. For instance, my brother-in-law is getting married. We get to watch general conference. (Which is exciting because I love the prophet and apostles, and also because I can listen to them while reclining on a couch. Win-win.) My brother is leaving on his mission to Chile. And Halloween will soon be upon us. Mix in doctor's appointments almost every week, and we'll be pretty busy.

Poor Madeline is somewhat oblivious to the sudden change her life is about to take. She is very much aware that there is a baby sister coming, and she knows that makes Mommy tired and uninteresting, but she just has no way of grasping the magnitude of what a newborn baby will do to her schedule. When she's throwing fits or being particularly naughty, I admit I revel in the thought. When she's being adorable and loving and helpful, I feel kind of sad our one on one time is coming to an end. But I'm sure that once we get over the boring newborn thing and the jealousy, having a built in playmate 24 hours a day will more than compensate her for her loss of attention. Fortunately, we don't have to deal with this change for another month. Until then we just have to explain to Madeline why she can't go to school until she's five. Which may be just as traumatic.

Madeline's double life.

2010-09-22T10:57:00.002-06:00

Madeline, seeing how tired and ready to be done with pregnancy I am, has kindly been stepping up her efforts to make the time fly by. Mostly by playing Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde. Some of her antics are pretty cute, and some are not so adorable.

Cute: Her new obsession with babies- hugs, kisses, giving them binkies, and generally being friendly.
Not Cute: Her new obsession with randomly hitting and kicking babies out of the blue.

Cute: Her eagerness to help me clean. Scrubbing the walls with rags, picking up her toys and dirty laundry without supervision, putting away shoes and clothes, etc.
Not Cute: The fact that she causes most of the messes I'm cleaning up. Trying to carry a bowl of cereal and milk around the house, getting raw eggs out of the fridge and smearing them across the floor, pulling all the toys out of her toybox at once, scattering goldfish around the house in an artistic fashion.

Cute: Memorizing Oh the Places You'll Go and other books and reading them back to me enthusiastically (even if I can't understand half of what she's saying.)
Not Cute: Demanding I read the same book over and over ten times in a row and throwing fits if I don't comply.

Cute: Running into our bed at six-thirty in the morning excited to snuggle with Mom and Dad and get them up for the day.
Not Cute: Running into our bed at six-thirty in the morning excited to snuggle with Mom and Dad and get them up for the day.

Cute: Running to the door to greet Daddy when he gets home, and practically falling down with excitement when he lets her wait for the carpool with him in the morning.
Not Cute: The tantrums and sobbing when Daddy leaves for work or meetings because he doesn't love her and is probably never coming back.

Cute: Making up dances and songs for our Mom's entertainment.
Not Cute: Making up dances and songs stark naked after baths and running the the house in said manner screaming because getting dressed and having your hair done is child abuse.

You get the idea. We sure are glad to have Madeline around, making our lives interesting, joyful, and occasionally stressful beyond all belief. Reminds us why we're having another one.

More of the same from us. Woohoo.

2010-09-15T21:25:00.002-06:00

We've been alternating around here between being very busy and being very tired. We had a wonderful weekend at our stake conference. I really enjoyed the Saturday night session without Madeline distracting us from the talks, and Sunday we joined the rest of Utah county in listening to Sister Beck, Elder Holland, and President Packer. Quite the lineup.

We followed up this great spiritual weekend with two days of nausea, feeling exhausted nonstop, and feeling randomly anxious. Gotta love pregnancy hormones. Madeline got tired of me crashing on the couch while she watched movies and having to be dragged out of bed after she woke up from naps. (For the record, Madeline is not a gentle alarm clock. If anyone is having trouble waking up teenagers in the morning, she's available for work.) But we've felt a little better today, and got out of the house a bit, and Madeline got play her heart out with her little neighborhood friends. So life is good for a while. And maybe we'll finally get around to finishing up the last baby things we've been putting off for a month, like rounding up pacifiers and bottles, and fixing up a diaper station, and other riveting tasks. Or maybe not. I figure if we have diapers, clothes and a crib, we'll figure out the rest. In seven weeks. Seven weeks and four days. Not that we're counting.

Vacation!

2010-09-08T21:08:00.002-06:00

All of a sudden I feel like it's fall. This makes me a little bit sad, but mostly pretty happy. For several reasons. First, because the temperature will be dropping, so I might actually venture out of my air-conditioned fortress. Also because it means we're officially less than two months from D-day. And autumn is just my favorite season all around, so win-win-win.

To celebrate the onset of September, we went on a family weekend getaway to St. George. I'd never really spent time there before, but it was a lot of fun. We went to Tuacahn and saw Tarzan, climbed around on a bunch of red rocks, spent a lot of time swimming, shopping, and golfing, and generally relaxed at the condo my parents rented. I may have spent a bit more time lounging than the others, as I was a bit under the weather. Madeline had a blast being spoiled and eating junk food and not sleeping at all. A nice way to spend a holiday weekend, overall.

Now we're back to real life, and being obsessed with having a baby in two months. Here's what's notable the last week or so:
-I finally had to ditch my wedding ring as the heat in St. George made my fingers fatter. It took a lot longer this time than with Madeline, so I'm okay with this development.
-We switched this month from appointments every 4 weeks to every 2 weeks. We might still be eight weeks away, but this is encouraging. It makes me feel like things are happening. Even if it's only that I'm getting weighed twice as often.
-Jalopy is getting stronger and kicking more. Usually when I'm trying to sleep. And occasionally hard enough that I gasp for breath. So much for hoping this baby would be calmer than Madeline.
-I'm not sleeping much at night anymore. I'll leave you to imagine how sad this makes me.

Anyway. That's what's exciting in the life of Cami. Until next time.

The great rhetorical questions of our times.

2010-08-31T17:13:00.003-06:00

Sometimes, I feel like I had a really awesome day because I got around to mopping the floor. Is this reason to celebrate, or a mark of how unproductive I have become? And is it horrible that accomplishing this one thing makes me feel like I've fulfilled my chore quota today? (Never fear. The gnawing doubt that mopping the floor qualifies me as Martha Stewart drove me to finish folding the laundry as well. So we chased away any residual guilt.)

I'm afraid Madeline is on the verge of giving up naps. Mostly because she'll still sleep a few hours usually, but not until at least 2 or 3 pm, and usually because I coerce her into it. And then she wants to stay up later. I let her because I don't want to give up MY afternoon naps. Is this bad parenting? Is this going to backfire on me when she decides to quit humoring me around November 7th and I lose my afternoon respite and my solid eight hours every night all in one fell swoop?

I am sort of having the same dilemma with potty training. In some ways, Madeline is showing every sign of being ready to attempt it. But she's really, really stubborn and refuses to let me call the shots. If she wants to sit on the potty all day, she does. But if she doesn't want to poop in the toilet, no amount of bribery will change the situation. So I kind of want to put it off until after we're acclimated to a new sister. Is it bad of me to put off potty training for my own sanity? Is my two-year old exercising too much power in our household?

These are the musings of a bewildered mother. Thanks for listening. Let's move on to September so that when I tell people I'm having a baby in two months it's actually true. So long, August.

Okay. Children really are awesome.

2010-08-26T15:36:00.002-06:00

I can't leave that last post at the top of my feed for long, lest people think I am ungrateful. Because drat these two girls, every time they try my patience, I can't forget how cute they are. Today I had another ultrasound because they had to check to make sure my placenta previa had cleared up (it did), and shoot. Little black and white arms and legs kicking around on a computer screen are so dratted adorable. Our little Jalopy is about 3 1/2 pounds now, and was determined to make up for the new ills she's been imposing upon me by passing all the doctor's tests with flying colors. The glucose test, iron levels, growth, heart rate, weight gain, etc. Little overachiever. Only ten more weeks until she will be big enough to come out.

And not to leave out the other little munchkin-I came out of my appointment and there she was with grandma, outfitted in a DI princess crown and Cinderella camera and making all the little old grandpas coming out post surgery appointments fawn over her cuteness. Because she is a show off. A cute one, but a show off nonetheless. And we shamelessly encourage her.

Anyway. You can tell I don't like being a mother. If this post is too disgustingly sappy for you, refer to the one below and feel comforted that more posts complaining about small limbs in my ribs are probably forthcoming. To bring us all back down to earth.

The joys of children

2010-08-25T21:06:00.002-06:00

I'm starting to feel pregnant. Surprise. It seems like the third trimester has decided to make an appearance in the past week or two. Meaning my stomach all of a sudden feels rather large, my back is starting to ache, my feet are starting to swell. I'm debating whether it's too early to give up on shaving my legs for the duration. I might have to continue to make an effort until it's cool enough to wear pants on a regular basis. I suppose these are some of the perks of being pregnant during the summer. Bless Madeline for being born in April.

But enough of my pregnancy woes, and more of the hijinks of my first offspring. Madeline is as feisty and independent as ever. She recently figured out that she can get out of her toddler bed and leave her room without waiting for explicit permission. Which is great in the morning when she'll come crawl into bed with me and I don't have to get up to get her. But not so awesome when I put her down for a nap or bedtime and she decides she's not ready to sleep. I love two year olds. Madeline has also gotten very into letters and words. We recently acquired bathroom crayons, and she loves to have me write words on the side of the bathtub. Oddly enough, she often asks me to write "Warner" and "Cami". I didn't know she knew our last name. Other favorite words for the tub wall include "Daddy" and "kangaroo". This is what we do everyday. Aren't you jealous?

An uneventful Friday.

2010-08-20T15:32:00.003-06:00

Madeline and I are on strike today. I'm not sure what Madeline is striking against. Sleep, presumably, since she woke up at six and took a relatively shortened nap. I'm on strike against chores. (Well, I started after doing the dishes and straightening a bit this morning. Because that would have made my strike self-punishing as I sat and watched the dirty dishes mold.) I decided that when I clean the house, you can't tell what I did .5-24 hours later. So I'm not doing it today. Until my house becomes a smoldering heap of dirt, or nothing happens and I realize my life is meaningless. Whichever. In the meantime, we're bored stiff. We're also boycotting Cinderella, we're sick of books and games, and I'm too lazy to go to the park. So here we sit. We got desperate and painted our nails. Well, Madeline sat there and I painted both of our nails. We do Madeline's occasionally, but I haven't painted my nails in...years probably. They are now bright pink. This is how bored we are. Hopefully Jessie will come home soon and relieve us of our doldrums. Or we might end up doing our hair and actually breaking out the makeup. If I can find it. Heaven help us.

What we've been up to.

2010-08-18T20:58:00.002-06:00

I think I've officially become an occasional blogger. We'll blame it on pregnancy and see if I become more verbose after I'm no longer tired and prone to complaints. (These are my excuses for not blogging. Laziness, and not wanting to impose my melancholy moods on you. I know you're grateful.) Actually, the last few weeks have been relatively eventful. We celebrated my brother's birthday, went on a picnic up the canyon, visited farm country and the gardens at Thanksgiving Point, went to a few ward parties, visited with some friends, and have generally been enjoying summer now that Jessie has the time. Madeline's been enjoying the outings, and talks about each one for days and weeks afterwords. She's really fond of telling me about the baby kangaroo she saw at our ward party, and asks every day to go up to the mountains to throw rocks in the river.

Jessie is still trying to make up the void in his life left by school by doing everything I'm supposed to be doing, and I'm not complaining. Not to brag, but the other day he told me to take a Sunday afternoon nap while he tidied up a little bit. I woke up to a completely clean house and dinner two hours later. I usually refrain from making this blog into a memorial to Jessie, but sheesh: what a guy. Madeline has been a champ too, being really cooperative about picking up her toys and anything else at floor level this old pregnant woman doesn't want to bend over to get. Singing the clean up song from nursery all the while, incidentally. She must take after her dad. A girl could do worse than those two.

Bring on August.

2010-08-03T12:48:00.003-06:00

Welcome to August. We're optimistic that August is going to be a good month around here. One great thing has already made this August particularly noteworthy: Jessie finished his MBA program! Congratulations, Mr. Master of Business Administration. We're all excited you now have the skills to lead this Warner empire into the future. Mostly we're excited to have Monday nights and Saturday mornings back. Because Madeline just doesn't appreciate the Mommy Madeline nights as much as she should, considering I've watched Cinderella and Up way more often than is healthy for an adult person.

Another big milestone: We've officially crossed the hundred day mark. Which still means three more months of being pregnant, but we're getting there. Madeline is getting impatient for her little sister to come out, but I keep explaining that she needs to get a little bigger first. But secretly I'm with Maddie. November can't come fast enough. Although now that Jessie has some free time, he's decided we actually should decorate the nursery. And he's made a list of baby-related projects he should do before the little bundle of joy arrives. Because he's antsy if he doesn't have a project. So it looks like we'll be organizing furniture and hanging pictures this month. And then Jessie will be doing some sewing projects and knitting a baby quilt.

A day with Madeline makes you glad there's a night.

2010-07-26T21:01:00.002-06:00

It was one of those days. Where it is easier to explain what happened by giving you a rundown of Madeline's activities. So, let me 'splain (no there is too much, let me sum up):

-Madeline broke the only VCR we have in the house and possibly ruined a video that doesn't belong to us in the bargain. And then got mad that she can't watch her videos.
-Madeline learned how to open the child lock on the fridge. And now we are on constant watch to protect the string cheese and the fruit punch.
-Madeline ripped a library book. Repeatedly.
-Madeline stole crackers from the pantry all day.
-Madeline repeatedly opened all the DVDs in the house and tried to put them in the computer and the DVD player. Luckily, I think they avoided scratching.
-Madeline pulled all the rags out of the drawer.
-Madeline wasted half a box of tissues because every time I head to blow my nose, she decided she needed to as well. She also wasted multiple wipes trying to change her baby's diaper.
-Madeline asked to go swimming and watch fireworks every five minutes.
-Madeline dumped all the clothes from the laundry basket and then used it as a stool to try and put on Daddy's shaving cream and deodorant.

I could go on. But you get the idea. Sometimes, I wonder if a sinus infection or a rambunctious two year old is more draining and exhausting. I think I'll go enjoy being sick for a few hours. Lest you get the wrong impression, let me say that I love the dear adorable girl. But bless whoever invented sleeping children.

The pioneers did not have Instacares. So I salute them.

2010-07-24T20:03:00.003-06:00

Happy Pioneer Day everyone. Our Pioneer Day has been eventful so far. I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend with the family, but instead was visited by a friendly bug and ended up with a sinus infection. So the weekend hasn't been as restful as I hoped. But between the not breathing and the sore throat and the pressure in my head, we've had some good holiday times. For instance, the nurse at the Instacare told me I was small for six months pregnant, which makes every pregnant woman a little bit happier. And I've been eating a lot of ice cream without guilt.

Madeline planned our 24th of July festivities. She's been talking about the fireworks non-stop since the fourth of July, and asks every day if we can see some more. Then earlier this week, she decided we should go swimming too. Madeline is a little fish with no proper fear of drowning, so swimming with her is an amusing adventure. She likes to take off all flotation devices and jump into the deepest part of the pool unsupervised. We feel this independence will serve her well in future life. If she doesn't drown first. And ever since we got done swimming, she's been asking if it's dark yet, because she knows that means fireworks. The sun has never taken so long to go down, but I'm sure she'll survive. Hope you all are having as awesome a day as we are.

What was lost, now is found.

2010-07-22T20:49:00.002-06:00

"Either what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one apiece, doth not light a candle, and sweep the house, and seek diligently till she find it?
And when she hath found it, she calleth her friends and her neighbours together, saying, Rejoice with me; for I have found the piece which I had lost."
-Luke 15:8-9

Usually I'm not the sort of blogger that starts a blog with scripture. But today is a special occasion. Basically, my mind was blown today. Because things like this don't happen.

Here's the deal: two years ago I lost my wedding ring. It was kind of a big deal. I cried a lot. I had put it somewhere safe while my fingers blew up like sausages while I was pregnant with Madeline, and when the baby dust had settled, I couldn't find my ring anywhere. I ripped apart the house, I searched every crevice, every drawer, every bag, every pocket. We went through two moves where I searched every box coming and going. Eventually, I gave up the ring for lost. Last Christmas, Jessie gave me a replacement ring, which was an incredibly sweet thing for him to do, and I was feeling better about the whole situation.

Then, today, I was going through Madeline's baby things and boxes to try and find the bumpers for the new baby's crib. I was moving a pile of blankets off of a box.

And out fell my ring.

I was flabbergasted. Wedding rings that have been missing for two years do not just suddenly fall out of piles of blankets that we've been using regularly. But there it was.

The only thing I can think of is that it fell out of an upside down duffel bag that was on top of the pile of blankets. A duffel bag that I had searched inch by inch at least half a dozen times. Crazy and totally unlikely, but there you go. Needless to say, I am beyond thrilled to have my wedding ring back. Besides being a rather expensive investment, it obviously has a lot of sentimental value. I don't know how it managed to show up, but I'm assuming there was probably a minor miracle or two behind it. And I've probably used up my good luck and or blessing quota for the next year. But I'm okay with that.

Thank heaven for small miracles.

Somebody stop me.

2010-07-19T20:37:00.001-06:00

So I finally like chocolate again. And I can't stop eating it. I want to do nothing but stuff my face with Little Debbie's cupcakes all day. And Swiss Rolls. And Ding Dongs. And anything else with chocolate and creme. I'm pretty sure this is how I gained all the weight with Madeline. So if someone would like to stage an intervention and save me from myself, I will name our dog after you. If we ever get a dog. I would name the baby after you, but no offense, you might have a really stupid name. Or you might be male, which would make our kid hate me all through junior high and high school. So anyway, the honor of having a canine named after you someday is at stake here. Also my waistline.

That's all. Nothing exciting is happening. I'm just having powerful chocolate cravings. You can return to your normal programming now.

It's me again. Surprise.

2010-07-16T10:41:00.002-06:00

I feel like I start out most my posts nowadays by letting you all know that I'm still alive and here. Because you probably thought I was dead. But sometimes I have to check every morning to make sure I'm still alive, and I forget that the rest of you are up to more interesting pastimes.

Jessie is feeling a lot better and is back to work. Which means Madeline and I are back to trying to make sure the house is respectably clean and Madeline is reasonably sane and well-cared for. This has been fun the past week, because somewhere I picked up some kind of virus that has twice resulted in horrible stomach pains that have kept me up half the night. And made me nauseated and unwilling to eat again. Welcome back nausea. I didn't miss you. But hopefully my GI tract and I have finally made up and life will be good again, before we get to the part where I'm miserably fat and uncomfortable. Because I could use the breather.

But on to happier things. I bought some new shoes for the first time in about a year, and there was much rejoicing in our house. Mostly from Madeline and I. Jessie is still trying to appreciate how new shoes can brighten your life. And later today, my little brother is going through the temple for the first time, which I'm looking forward to as a relaxing and uplifting event. And Jessie is only three weeks away from being officially done with his MBA, and officially home with me more often. Permanent summer vacation, is how we're choosing to look at this important milestone. So good times are coming for all, and we'll be dancing in the street all night. Or until we get nauseous and have to lie down.

Our life as invalids

2010-07-07T16:30:00.003-06:00

Hope you all enjoy the new header. This is what happens when Jessie is stuck at home for two days without being allowed to do anything productive. He begged to be allowed to fold laundry this morning, and then promptly fell asleep for two hours from the exertion. So we're sticking to making photo collages and watching movies.

Madeline is enjoying having Jessie home, although she's not quite getting the whole recovery concept. She knew he went to the doctor, and we tried to explain to her what happened with her Madeline doll and books, which conveniently feature an appendectomy. But although she enjoys looking at his 'owies' and wandering around complaining that her tummy hurts, she hasn't grasped the rule that she can't jump on Daddy's lap or kick him in the stomach. And since I've been trying to enforce this rule for Mommy ever since we found out I was pregnant and she still doesn't follow it, I'm pretty sure she won't be figuring it out anytime soon.

As for Jessie, he's pretty much acting like a pregnant woman. I laugh when we sit next to each other on the couch holding our stomachs and fight over the bathroom (even though there are three in our house.) Both of us are banned from heavy lifting, we both have no appetite, and both our stomachs are bloated. So we're enjoying understanding each other's pain. Although I think it's unfair that he gets narcotics. Something about being cut open being painful. Whatever.

Contrary to popular opinion, it was not all a ploy to avoid Antimony.

2010-07-05T21:43:00.002-06:00

Well, welcome back to our wacky and exciting life. For once my lack of blogging is because there were things going on, not because I was weary of posting about pregnancy ills and Madeline's quirks. But brace yourselves- this post will contain only trace amounts of either.

We spent most of the weekend at the Lundstrom family reunion in Logan. Which is pretty much an awesome event, and I'm pretty sad for all of you who aren't Lundstroms. Basically, Lundstrom family reunions are two day sports marathons, with intense games of soccer, ultimate frisbee, dodgeball, basketball, kickball, and anything else we can think of that will wear people out and burn up some excess competitive drives. And the old people/gimps/pregnant people sit and hold babies and talk. It works out pretty well. As always, we had a great time but were pretty exhausted by the end of the festivities.

Here's where our story gets fun. We stopped at my parents ward on the way home (since they have church two hours later than us and we could sleep in. I came up with this brilliant idea. Sometimes I am amazing.) Towards the end of church, Jessie started having stomach pain. Having a history of ulcers, he thought it would eventually pass. But instead it kept getting worse. And worse. Until 10:30 at night when he declared he was dying and decided he wanted to go to the hospital. (Wimp. Just because his stomach was exploding.) In an exciting turn of events, they were quick to inform us that he had appendicitis. (Always needs attention, that Jessie. Sheesh.) So early this morning, he had surgery to remove the little bugger. Happy Independence Day, Jessie! Your appendix has broken off from the motherland and become its own entity!

Anyway. So we spent most of the day/night at the hospital, being awesome, and then they got sick of Jessie making excel sheets charting his recovery time, so they sent us home. And here we shall remain, reveling in our appendectomy convalescence, until Jessie gets sick of me asking him if he's okay. On a totally unrelated note, this means sadly that we will not be making our annual Antimony trip this weekend. I am very broken up about this, and begged Jessie to reconsider, but he was adamant. So no stories about Antimony stealing my soul this year. Maybe next year. We can only hope.

It's a baby!

2010-06-25T16:33:00.004-06:00

Well, in case you haven't heard, the results are in. And there's going to be even more estrogen around here. Just like my illustrious mother, we'll be beginning our family with two girls in a row! We're pretty excited about this. I'm really glad Madeline will have a sister to play with, and that I don't have to do any extra sewing projects to recover pink things in blue. And I get to reuse all of the cute dresses and shoes that Madeline didn't spend nearly enough time in. Now that I know, I'm having to restrain myself from doing up the crib and stocking the baby's dresser. I have enough discipline to at least put it off until Monday. Maybe. Or we might be ready for this baby by Sunday afternoon, even though she won't be ready for us for another four months. (She! Isn't that great?)

One thing that probably won't be ready for four months, however, is the name. We haven't really talked about any yet, and we're not going to narrow it down to less than three or four until after this girl makes an appearance. And we won't be sharing our contemplations, because we got a little too much input last time. Which resulted in us frantically trying to name our poor nameless child late at night after she'd already been around most of the day. And let me tell you, there's nothing more awkward than staring stupidly at a baby for twelve hours without being on a first name basis. And not knowing what to tell people when they call or visit to congratulate you and want to know what creative moniker you've bestowed on the little bundle of joy. So we're hoping to avoid that this time and decide pretty quickly.

Anyway. Hip hip hooray for little girls and sisters! And there was much rejoicing in the Warner household.

Just kidding

2010-06-22T21:15:00.002-06:00

I know you've all been dying of suspense. So I won't keep you in the dark any longer. After an exciting day, I'm proud to announce that the newest little Warner is definitely a bouncing baby.......fetus of unknown sex. Awesome fake out, huh? I'm really not being mean. We don't know yet. Turns out the ultrasound tech at my doctor's office got sick and they couldn't find another tech to work today, so my appointment was canceled and rescheduled for Friday. I was definitely disappointed, but we'll live until Friday. Maybe. So stay tuned for the real announcement and we'll try to actually introduce appropriate pronouns to this baby story in the near future.

On fathers and father related things.

2010-06-21T20:56:00.002-06:00

I guess I was supposed to post a tribute to fathers yesterday. Now I am officially uncool. So a little late: Yay for fathers. Mine, yours, his. Without fathers, there would be no us. Anyway, for father's day, Jessie got a new grill, and now he is a real manly man. We celebrated with steak, which Jessie cooked, because I am not manly enough to touch the grill. (Just kidding. Jessie would let me use the grill if I wanted to. He has no gender stereotypes except his nagging belief that Excel and budget sheets are definitely manly territory. But I use any excuse to let someone else do the cooking.) Unfortunately, I have my mother's tendency to buy way too much food for festive occasions. Fortunately, we had some friends to help us eat it so it wasn't so bad. And it gave Madeline the opportunity to kiss a boy. But that is a different story.

We celebrated Father's Day by taking my little brother down to Provo so he could start summer term at BYU. It brought warm fuzzies into my heart. And a lot of memories of my freshman year at BYU, hanging out in Heritage Halls and generally getting into mischief. I tried to impart my wisdom to my younger sibling, but I'm sorry to say he'll probably ignore it, and be better off for it too. Which tells you he's a smart kid.

That's about it. But I can't leave you without reminding our fans that tomorrow is the big day, in which we discover if our newest spawn will be of the male or female variety. stay tuned for the exciting developments. Or just, you know, ignore us for a few months and check back for pictures in November and you can find out that way. But I don't have the patience.

The life and times of a two year old

2010-06-16T12:01:00.003-06:00

Hey everybody! I know, I just posted two days ago. Crazy. I'm not due for more witty sarcasm for at least a week. Somebody stop me. But sometimes, you just have to bite the bullet.

Madeline is getting older and wiser. Or at least she thinks she is. Basically, we've hit that lovely do-it-yourself stage, and any and all help from me is an affront to her dignity. If I do up the straps on her shoes, she has to undo them and do it herself. She wants to be the one to put in movies and DVDs, even if it is upside down. She wants to buckle herself in the car seat, clip her own nails, pick out and put on her own clothes, tuck herself in, and cross the road without holding my hand. Note that a good majority of these things are dangerous/impossible/destructive for a two year old, and therein lies our source of tension. Don't get me wrong, I would love for her to be able to get dressed herself, use the bathroom herself, and be totally independent. But statistics suggest she'll be dependent on me for some portion of her needs for at least 16 more years. We're trying to explain that to her, but she tends to get distracted by bugs in the window or the sun going behind a cloud, so we're doing what we can with sporadic thirty second lectures.

Madeline is also getting excited for big changes in her life. Not the ones that could happen in the next six months, like potty training or sisterhood. Madeline looks forward to things far in the future, because she likes to see the big picture. She likes to put on a backpack and wait by the window for a school bus to take her to kindergarten. (I haven't the heart to tell her that the school buses have taken a hiatus until September and she'll be sitting at that window for a while.) She's all about getting married in a pretty dress, either at the temple or WalMart. Whichever is closer. And she's definitely got her career as a truck driver all mapped out, and is just frustrated that they won't give her a driver's license until she gets tall enough to reach the pedals. Or, if that doesn't work out, she'll probably become a professional streaker, as she has recently discovered the thrill of running around au natural. We're such proud parents.

On feeling fat versus feeling pregnant.

2010-06-14T20:35:00.002-06:00

My appetite for chocolate has returned. As I type, I am eating a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream. This probably isn't a good thing. Especially since my belly has started sticking out beyond the point of concealment. I thought I was excited for that part, after the weeks of no appetite and no weight gain, but then I remembered that nothing prepares you for feeling like a blimp. I know I look like what I am supposed to look like right now. But try telling that to my ego, which is busy trying to convince me that I am the Titantic. Hopefully this phase will wear off before I start getting extremely large, and thus correspondingly more demoralized. But I am going to have to remind myself to go easy on the ice cream. Drat the return of my taste buds.

Anyway. That's about it. Because as you've probably noticed, I've been feeling remarkably un-literary for the past month. Maybe someday I'll get my blogging groove back. Then I'll regale you with fun stories about how I'm trying to decide whether or not to toilet train Madeline or how Jessie will be done with school in two months and we will be setting off bottle rockets. Fun things like that.

My offspring and my poor choices.

2010-06-07T20:17:00.002-06:00

Recently Madeline has decided she's a big fan of the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde movement. When she's happy, she's downright adorable. But when she's not happy, heaven help us all. She's rediscovered temper tantrums and we're having a lot of fun trying to convince her that being happy is way more fun. But I'm trying to focus on the downright adorableness, because that gives me less headaches. On that front, our big news for the day is that Madeline finally learned how to pedal her bike (really a tricycle/scooter thing). I've been trying to teach her for a month and today she finally connected the dots. It was kind of amazing how excited I was. I'm usually excited about Madeline's accomplishments, but not in a I want to shout it to the world kind of way, and tell random strangers, and give her a trophy. I haven't really been like that since she was learning to roll over and crawl and other such milestones. I blame the pregnancy hormones.

Speaking of which, I just realized there's a baby in there. Because the last week or so there's been some weird fluttering/flipping action going on that catches me off guard at weird times of day and reminds me: oh yeah. Something is alive in there. I'd kind of forgotten about that part. But I'm glad, because I can't wait for it to really start jiving so I can let Madeline feel it, because I'm pretty sure she'll think it's a hoot and we'll be set for entertainment for the next five months. Oh, and so Jessie can feel it move. But let's be honest, he's been there/done that, so Madeline's reaction is going to be more novel.

And, lastly, because I would just like to inform you all that I must be crazy. Because I've officially committed to returning to the bane of my existence. Which, in case you missed the last three years of my life, is a little place called Antimony. Which you can read about in the archives if you want to know all about how our grudge fest. And then you can wonder, as I am, if my IQ dropped twenty points or I just enjoy punishment. I fully expect to get sucked down a river or go into premature labor in the middle of nowhere or have Madeline get eaten by a bear. But these are sacrifices we must make.

Let's all be excited!

2010-06-02T21:06:00.003-06:00

Hi. Wow, it's June. My how time flies when we're having fun. I think life has been busy the last few weeks, but I really can't remember. Maybe I have a Memorial Day hangover. Anyway. Just thought I'd check in and let you know I'm alive. Anyway, here are some things I am excited about today, in order of importance and/or based on the order they come into my brain.

1) My brother is going to be a missionary in Chile. He will undoubtedly be awesome, and hopefully not get too friendly with earthquakes. (Just kidding Mom! No earthquakes in Chile!)

2) We find out the gender of this little bugger on June 22nd. Then I can quit calling it a little bugger. And there will be rejoicing in the land.

3) Jessie is going golfing with his company this Saturday as part of a tournament. He has never been before. Don't tell, but I think he's kind of nervous. It's kind of cute.

4) I sometimes enjoy junk food now. I ate a cookie and I liked it. Maybe food and I can start getting along now. Also, I gained a pound. I'm sure in a week I won't be excited about that. But for now I am.

That's it. I'm sure there are more things I could be excited about, but that would take too much energy. So I'll put it on my list of things to do tomorrow. Or have Jessie do it for me. He's very obliging.

Why we are not as cool as the rest of the world.

2010-05-24T20:29:00.003-06:00

Sometimes, I am reminded why I try to avoid wildly popular music, movies, or television shows. I don't always succeed. Which is why all this Lost madness is driving me crazy. Jessie and I got hooked, and we have a Lost party every week as our family home evening activity, because we are wildly spiritual. (Jessie has class on Mondays, which is why we have FHE on Tuesdays, lest you are confused.) But then, the stupid powers that be decided to air the finale on Sunday instead of Tuesday, which didn't work out for us for several reasons. So now we're the lame people who don't know what happened on the biggest series finale of the year. And because I promised my husband I would watch it with him, I have to wait until tomorrow night. Which shouldn't be a problem for an awesomely patient person like me, who is totally unconcerned with pop culture. But sometimes a certain two year old bleeds dry the ole' well of patience, and there's none left to deal with my strange television addictions. What a sad life I lead.

Anyway. That's two woe-is-me posts in a row, so we'll move on to better and happier things. We had a good weekend with a lot of happy perks. I ate some food and I liked it. We got to go to a family baby blessing, which made me want a baby. Good thing we're working on that. And we got to go to my little brother's seminary graduation, which made me want a son to send on a mission. (Give me twenty or thirty years and I'll work on that one too.) And much as I love nursery and my happy little kids, it was nice to have a week off. Because sometimes head, shoulders, knees and toes can really wear you out if you put too much oomph into it. So happy days all around.

Let us have a moment of mild belly aching.

2010-05-20T21:11:00.004-06:00

Allow me to take a moment to gripe. Then we'll pretend I didn't. Okay? Great.

Someone stole my second trimester happy place. I'm kind of upset about it. I've been telling myself for the last month that one day I'll randomly wake up, have energy, and have an appetite. And probably gain twenty pounds in a day when that happens. But although the nausea has lessened, it refuses to go away. And food continues to be public enemy #1. Madeline can eat a carton of yogurt faster than I can, and I tell you, I am one jealous yogurt consumer. And I am one unhappy camper if I don't get my daily nap, as poor Madeline can attest. And I'm getting fatter without really gaining any weight, which is, I admit, the one pleasant side effect of this whole food fiasco.

So basically, I'm afraid eating will never be pleasurable again, and I'm bitter at all the websites that are telling me the second trimester should be the best part of my pregnancy. And I forgave Madeline for all the pregnancy ills she ever inflicted on me, since she had the decency to quit making me sick at 14 weeks. Bless you, Madeline.

Anyway. It feels good to get that off my chest. Venting is my new favorite hobby. If anybody asks, officially I love being pregnant and I'm glowing with joy and pregnancy hormones. Happy happy joy here in pregnancy land. Don't worry, I really do love it. I'm just bitter because Jessie is eating Doritos.

Did you miss me?

2010-05-17T20:45:00.002-06:00

Welcome back to Camiville, world! I took a little unannounced break, because I could, and I wanted to. Basically the last few weeks have been a little weird because we had a bit of a pregnancy scare, which was a bit stressful, and Madeline spent a lot of time hanging with Grandma, and Jessie had a conference for work, and I did absolutely nothing. Lest anyone freak out, rest assured that things are looking good now, and everything should be fine, and we even got to have an ultrasound today and see the little baby flipping around and stretching its legs. Which was pretty awesome. So really it was all just an excuse for me to have a week and a half long Mother's Day, with free babysitting, a clean house courtesy of my husband, a relief society retreat, and a lot of pampering in general. Sometimes I am pretty smart like that.

So, other exciting things that happened in the last two weeks, in random order: Jessie and I got eye exams and I ordered new glasses, since Madeline has smashed mine to smithereens. Jessie got his eyes dilated and apparently it was very traumatic. Madeline switched from her crib-bed to her real toddler bed, and now we have a crib sitting in our spare bedroom and I keep thinking there should be a baby in it. As mentioned before, I went to a relief society retreat at the Heber girl's camp, which was awesome, except that it was freezing and apparently long car rides on curvy roads make me puke. Thank you, pregnancy. We got to stay at the Marriot in downtown Salt Lake while Jessie was at his conference, which was exciting, because Madeline now loves elevators. We now entertain Madeline on long car rides (defined as over five minutes) by locating and chasing large tricks, school buses, Walmarts, and temples (i.e. church houses.)

So. That is what we have been doing. We're here. We're alive. And life is good. The end.

More Madeline Madness.

2010-05-05T20:33:00.003-06:00

Once upon a time my brother complimented me by saying that I was able to make my normal boring life interesting in my blogs. (At least I took it as a compliment to my writing skills, and not an insult to my boring life.) Receiving compliments from your teenage brother is always flattering. But I'm afraid not even my trademark wit and amazing blogging skills can make a life of nausea and fatigue interesting. So instead of blogs complaining about my ills, I am forced to blog about the only other interesting phenomenon in our household. If you're sick of information about my toddler and would prefer pregnancy whining and griping, please note your dismay in our suggestion box.

Anyway. Some random quirky things about Madeline:

She switched to a bed a month ago, and after the initial panic attack upon facing change, has done really well. My major concern was that she'd now be able to get out of bed unassisted and wreak havoc on my house and sanity. Or hop into bed with me. But alas, I worried far too much. Madeline has an imaginary wall around her bed, and refuses to get out until I come into her room and tell her it's okay to leave her cell. This is a pretty awesome setup, in my opinion. The only exception is when she occasionally rolls out of bed at night. But she usually doesn't wake up when this happens, so no harm done. (I used to do that as a kid too. I'm glad she inherited some useful skills from me.)

She's getting really into temper tantrums. Which I mostly have taken to ignoring, because I have no energy to deal with them unless it's life or death. It works pretty well, because if she is really set on something and doesn't get her way, she works herself up into a angry tizzy, then informs me that since she's not happy, she'd like to go to bed please. Because that will teach me not to withhold things from her. Then we both take a nap. Sometimes if I'm really tired, I kind of hope she'll throw a tantrum. Does that make me a bad parent?

She's recently obsessed with trucks. Garbage trucks, mostly. She asks about them several times a day. And when she's cranky, we hop on Google and look at pictures of garbage trucks or school buses until she feels better.

Whenever she trips or hits herself with a toy, she apologizes to herself. I'll hear a thud from the other room, followed by "Uh oh! Sorry." She does not extend the same courtesy to Jessie and I when she elbows, hits, steps on, or otherwise maims us.

Yesterday, when I went in to get her from her nap her first words to me were: "Mommy! I have toes!" I was very happy for her.

So there's some tidbits from our life to feed your insatiable desire to know every minute detail. We are still alive and kicking and have not gone crazy yet. (Jessie might disagree, but you can take my word over his because his Master's degree is still fake for a few more months.)

A post about Jessie, who is cool and stuff.

2010-05-03T20:09:00.004-06:00

So the big news at our house this weekend: Jessie graduated. Mostly. He has this habit of pretending to graduate and then going to class for a few more months. What a faker. But he got to walk and take pictures and all that jazz on Saturday, and we're excited because it means he is close to being officially done. I took pictures of his handsome graduating awesomeness, but blogspot still hates me. So just imagine. Jessie now has more formal education than I do, so I'm a little jealous. I might have to get a Masters in Pregnancy or something to make me feel better. Because they totally should give degrees for that, based on the fact that a) a couple pregnancies take just as long as a degree, b) it's a 24/7 job, and c) your spouse suffers. Also because graduate robes are great maternity wear.

Anyway, Jessie wasn't sure what to do with the extra time he'll have in a few months. But our stake president is on top of things like that, so just for Jessie, he split the Elder's quorum in our ward and Jessie was called as a counselor in one of the presidencies. I told him it was totally the Elder's quorum president getting revenge on him for elbowing him in the face during ward basketball. I warned him that would have consequences. All in all though, I'm happy with the trade off, because Elder's quorum meetings are not as long or as far away as school. And he gets to hang out with people in our ward instead of sitting through powerpoint presentations. Everyone wins.