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

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

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

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

You and Me Baby, We're Stuck Like Glue

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

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

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


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

An essay on our health.

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

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

One year older and wiser too

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

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

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

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


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


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


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

Our official photo edition.

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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

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

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

The Warners reach new levels of coolness.

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

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

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

Momma said there'd be years like this.

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

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