teaser

My mother asked for a Halloween pictures teaser. Heehee. I don't think this is quite what she had in mind.

You get to see the real thing tomorrow Mom.

locked

Yesterday Cumorah locked herself in the bathroom. She was in there probably for a total of 15 to 20 minutes. Nobody freaked out. She just kept saying, "Lock door? Mommy? Lock door. Turn handle? What? Mommy? Lock? Door?" And I said, "Yes, you locked the door. Mommy can't open it because you locked it." I encouraged her to try and open the door on her own while I went through a list of other things I could do to try and get the door open. I actually never was worried, more patiently resigned to the way my day was going, and very very grateful that it was the bathroom she had locked herself into seeing as how she was running around nakie bum. In fact, the reason she was in the bathroom was because she was having a nakie bum morning and using the potty when needed. She had gone to the bathroom saying, "Be right back, Mommy." She shut the door behind, a common occurrence. I heard her calling for me because she was having difficulty opening the door back up, which is also a common occurrence. It was a split second before I grasped the door knob that I heard the click. Of course she pushed the little lock button next to the knob. What not-quite-two-year-old wouldn't push such a cute shiny little inviting button? With the lock, the door knob is even harder to turn. So Cumorah was stuck. There is a tiny hole on the outside of the door for unlocking it. Problem is, the doorknob is in the way to push anything into the hole besides a bent paperclip and I couldn't seem to do anything with that. Besides, I didn't know what to do, whether I was turning or pushing or what. A flashlight didn't help. I unscrewed the face plate to the door knob but that doesn't help get it off. So then I called my husband to see if he knew anything more than I did on the subject. Basically he laughed at me and told me he was busy studying with a group of guys. (OK so he did say that if I couldn't get it in ten more minutes to give him a call and he'd come home to get her out). I decided to call our landlords to see if they knew where a key or something was. Kim said, "The doors lock?" My question answered. No known key. She sent Tyler over to get Cumorah out. He was at the house in about 3 minutes. Have I ever mentioned what awesome landlords we have? They're good friends. We are the luckiest to have such a beautiful home and such wonderful landlords. Tyler figured out how to spring the lock practicing on a bedroom door, but before he actually unlocked the bathroom door, Cumorah opened it.

after party messes

Whew! What a weekend. I often actually look forward to Mondays these days. The girls and I are going to do laundry (Monday is laundry day) and convalesce. Poor Rivers has been sick. She needs some love and attention from her Momma. We did a lot this weekend. And since Sundays are the only days that Brian doesn't study, we seem to pack waaaay too much into them.

After this evening's festivities, of which I'm sure you will see pictures in the near future, I was sweeping up pumpkin seeds, tootsie roll wrappers, more leaves from the back porch, candy corn and count chocula cereal, the dishes were piled up in the sink and on the counters, the girls were finally in bed after being up much too late, and I was thinking about how I actually don't mind after-party-messes so much. I think about all the fun we had and the memories made and the happy people entertained, and the mess seems almost like a pleasure to clean up. Tonight I thought of the grandest of all after-party-messes at the end of my father's 50th birthday party. My sisters, Amy and Crystal, and I decided to throw my dad a party. It was a surprise that he knew about, but he didn't know just how big it really was. It was huge. And very fun with lots of friends and family and letters from long-ago buddies. The after-party-mess filled Amy's counters and table and spilled rather enormously onto her floor, where the three of us sat almost giddy with exhaustion and the emotional high of a highly planned for and very successful party. We were finishing off the baked brie, which tasted even better sitting indian style on a dirty kitchen floor than it had outside on the back lawn in beautiful fall weather. The ginormous chocolate birthday cake made in grand wedding cake proportions was still the size of a very large normal birthday cake even after we'd given a lot away. So we did what any not-so-normal-sane person would do and decorated it with leftover dip and smoked salmon. The little smoked salmon flag flapping on the cake stabilizing skewer was the best part. Then we took it into the living room to show my brother and our cousin, almost dropping it with our unreasonable amount of laughter. Then we marched it out the door and ceremoniously threw it over the fence and down the hill where it kind of plopped and slid rather unspectacularly. Good times. Amy thinks that the women in our family are rather crazy, but I say that when she joined the family she just fanned on the craziness like the Santa Anas on a So Cal wildfire. Anyway, I enjoy life's great parties even if they do generate life's great messes.

leaves

Here is Cumorah enjoying the Fall leaves in the backyard on Sunday.




Here is Rivers enjoying the leaves in the backyard on Sunday not so much.





Let the wild rumpus begin!










Who's child is she anyway?

make it last a little longer

Early this afternoon I looked at the flowers that Brian had given me. They were finished being beautiful. I had already thrown some out as they got too wilty and trimmed the rest and changed the water, but now the majority needed to go. So I threw them out. But I was able to save a few of them. Now I have a handful of little flowers spread around the living and dining areas. I love flowers. They make me happy. It was nice to make them last a little bit longer.

Yesterday was a rough day. Brian came home to a messy haired wife in yoga pants and an apron, stirring two pots on the stove at the same time with one arm, while the other arm held Rivers like a football with her legs dangling behind her. On his way into the living room he had to step over toys, groceries, shoes, various dirty little socks, dried leaves from the back porch, and yes, even dirty diapers. Cumorah had been put in her room, for some offense or another, as he was pulling into the driveway and her wails could be heard faintly. Much to his credit, Brian laughed and kissed me saying, "All you need is to be barefoot." I added, "And pregnant." As nice as that was to laugh for a second and to have Brian take Rivers and go and rescue Cumorah, the evening didn't get much better. Cumorah had her worst breakdown of all time. Quite traumatic getting her bathed and ready for bed. She has a bruise on her knee from throwing herself to the floor. At one point she fell on me with her arms around my neck and she cried and hiccupped out, "Boo-boo-bunny." I guess he not only soothes physical pains but emotional as well. I have no idea what it was all about, but I have a feeling she doesn't either. Today was better. But there are still toys everywhere and laundry that needs folding. There were potty successess (Cumorah went poopy in the potty for the first time, she decided to run to the potty on her own, I didn't tell her to) and there were potty accidents. There were giggles and smiles and there were tears. I am still exhausted, feeling like I've been working non-stop all day and I still haven't gotten much of anything done that I had planned to do. I put Cumorah in the bath this evening and then undressed Rivers to put her in the bath. As I laid her in the warm water, she stuck her thumb in her mouth and cooed contentedly. Cumorah played with her bath toys and laughed at her baby sister. Rivers looks bigger today. I told her she needed to stop growing so much, she's supposed to stay my baby for a while longer. Just a bit longer. And I realized that for the second time today, I found myself wanting to make it last a little bit longer.



"If you are still in the process of raising children, be aware that the tiny fingerprints that show up on almost every newly cleaned surface, the toys scattered about the house, the piles and piles of laundry to be tackled will disappear all too soon and that you will—to your surprise—miss them profoundly." President Monson Finding Joy in the Journey Oct 2008 General Conference

the pumpkin patch

We went to the pumpkin patch today. It started out rather cold and foggy, but it ended up being a beautiful Fall day. Cumorah was excited. It's kind of fun to have a kid that can understand at least a little bit and get excited about the holidays and the activities we're doing. She did look for pumpkins but I had to eventually suggest one to pick. I also had to clean the mud off of it with baby wipes. Then she told me she didn't want it. Her favorite thing to say right now is, "No, no, no, nooooo-a, no, NOO, NO, NO, NNNNNNOOOO!" I'm trying to get her to say "Whoah!" instead, but it only works sometimes. So we started to leave the poor little pumpkin there in the pumpkin patch, freshly picked and clean. Then she decided she did want it after all. Cumorah's favorite thing about the pumpkin patch was the tractor ride there. She loves tractors.

Looking.

Found it.

I spy a tractor.

After lunch and diaper changes in the car and hot apple cider and homemade ice cream in the Greenhouse Cafe, we went to the Kiddie Korrall. Very fun. Lots of stuff to do. There was another corn pool, a variety of different swings, a couple teeter totters (Cumorah got to ride on one with a nice family that had teenagers who could safely hold her), tricycles, a hay maze, etc. etc. Cumorah saw this pig right away and pointed to it. Then she gave it a wide berth as she inspected it. I told her that it was pretend, not a real pig, and I patted it to show her. After a few moments hesitation she approached and touched it. Finding that I was telling the truth she immediately requested to ride it. I think she was hoping it would move like the horsie at Hy-Vee. Oh well, she seemed to enjoy it anyhow. She had fun in the corn pool again. But the very best part was the Wiggle Cars. Those were the coolest ever. She didn't go very fast and I had to follow around the outside of the riding pad and redirect her every once in a while, but she did make it go all on her own. You move the steering wheel back and forth and it makes it go. I'm sure that somebody who did better in physics than I did could explain why, but go they do. The older kids really had them zipping around. Cumorah originally started out with a yellow car but pounced on this one when it became available.







Rivers didn't get a pumpkin. Before you feel too sorry for her, note that Cumorah did not get a pumpkin last year for her first Halloween either. Also, Rivers was sleeping the whole time we were in the pumpkin patch. Totally not interested. I did however feel like she needed an opportunity to get to know pumpkins. Who doesn't love pumpkins? I also felt like I needed an opportunity to take pictures of her with pumpkins. So I set her up on the back porch at home with our pumpkins. Babies and pumpkins make great pictures.















Mmmmm...smells like a pumpkin.











And tastes like a pumpkin.

I like pumpkins.

family resemblances

Holy Hulbert baby! Does she not look like your babies, Mom? I swear there has to be a picture of one of your children that looks just like this. OK, well at least pretty darn similar, don't you think?

OK, so everybody has been telling Brian and I how Rivers looks so much like Cumorah did as a baby. And I think that they DO look like sisters, but that they also look VERY different. Their eyes are different shapes, their noses, their mouths. They're just different. What do you think?

Rivers 5 months.
Cumorah 5 months.

Well regardless of the varying Taylor-girl-look-alike opinions, they're both pretty dang cute. It was fun to look at pictures of my first baby again. She had chubbier thighs than Rivers. They were so delicious! And I'm loving Cumorah's stick-up fuzz. I forgot about that.

random

This blog of our family's fantastic adventures has two main purposes. The first one is as a record of our family that I plan on printing up as a book every year. And second, as a way to keep our far away extended families in touch with our adventures.

So here are some random blurbs about life as of late and our little girls and whatever else comes to mind.







September started out cool. Summer just kind of abruptly ended and I was nervous about how soon winter would come. But the weather has been great, usually in the upper 60's or 70's. It is definitely Fall though. The days steadily getting shorter, the mornings too dark. In the very beginning of September I noticed a tree just down the street who had a few branches tinged with red. Now most trees have been touched by the season. Our back porch is often covered with leaves. Cumorah likes to play with them. She even brought me a handful into the house. It's been beautiful. I feel the need to take back just a little of my comment on how those that love their REAL four seasons can just keep their four seasons to themselves, because I really do like Fall here. I don't take it all back though, I still really don't like winter.

We've been to ice cream three times in the past month. The first two times were in the same week. Snookies closed for the season in late September and we just had to take the opportunity to enjoy it before we were forced to wait until April. Yummy, yummy stuff. The third time was just this last Saturday. We went to Cold Stone out at the mall in West Des Moines. The last two times we've been to Cold Stone, Cumorah has chosen her own ice cream. She tells the server, "Blue." Blue ice cream at Cold Stone is cotton candy flavored and very yummy. I'm just grateful it's not the bubble gum flavored ice cream of my childhood. The kind that after you ate it you were left with a nasty sticky napkin full of sucked on gumballs. Cumorah had gummy bears on her blue ice cream, but next time we'll stick to sprinkles. She doesn't have the patience to chew the gummy bears. I think she was swallowing them whole. After the ice cream we walked around a little lake with fountains that is right next to the mall. Cumorah ran around the entire lake. I think she was on a little bit of a sugar high. The best part about going out to ice cream is seeing Cumorah's face light up when we ask her if she wants ice cream and listening to her yell in the car "ice keem!" when we ask her where we're going.


BooBooBunny was wildly popular in September. Every little owie needed the sweet comfort of this cute little frozen washcloth guy. Funny thing that no matter where the injury, the best relief is found through sucking on the plastic ice cube. We also have a BooBooBear who is really just a picture of a polar bear on the terrycloth cover of a little rectangular gel pack. He apparently works best applied to the head. BooBooBunny used to be very white and fluffy and fresh looking. Now he is one eyed, his perky little cottontail has been pulled off, his bow is never tied and he has blue playdo and red spaghetti sauce splatters. Reminds me of the Velveteen Rabbit.


My redwood sorrel is finally happy. Brian brought me home some from near Jedediah Smith Redwoods when he was working on that construction job in Crescent City in the spring of 07. I love shamrock type plants. (they close up and go to sleep at night, how cute is that?) They finally started growing this summer when I abandoned them on the back porch and left for California. Now I just have to make sure that I bring them in before it freezes or before the squirrels get to them. Nasty little buggers. I used to think squirrels were cute and sweet before I moved to Des Moines. Now I think they're destructive evil little nuisances. They're really at their worst right now as they have a last burst of hole digging, nut gathering frenzy. I must admit they are fun to watch in the tree out back crunching on nuts.





I have been injuring myself as of late. First, I broke my own strict toothbrushes-belong-only-in-the-bathroom rule. I read one of those "real life drama" stories in the Reader's Digest as a teenager about a little boy who ran down the hallway with his toothbrush in his mouth. He tripped and fell and jammed his toothbrush deep into the back of his throat. I've never been the same since reading that story. Anyway, I was multi-tasking as usual, brushing and putting little shoes away at the same time. I bent and twisted to drop the shoes in their little bin in the girls closet and I rammed my toothbrush into the side of my cheek by hitting it on the door frame. Not quite as dramatic as the story of the boy, but it did hurt and it did tear my cheek open on the inside pretty good. I will no longer be breaking my strict toothbrush rule. Then last week I think I might have broken my toe. I stubbed it and fell to the floor cursing the inventor of bouncy seats while Cumorah watched me curiously. I have stubbed my toes about a thousand times on the stupid thin metal legs of that bouncy seat. I know, you'd think I'd learn, but I'd rather blame it on somebody else. Makes my toe feel better. It did the usual turning mottled purple and radiated pain all up my foot to my lower leg. It seemed to get a lot better pretty fast though. So if I did break it, it was probably a wimpy break. That's how I break bones, wimpily. That's how I broke my arm at girl's camp the summer I turned 13 and that's how I broke my nose "catching" a soft-ball the summer I turned 19 (i was never meant for sports, i lack confidence, coordination and competitiveness). But I did get flowers out of the deal. Brian had to stop at the store to get something on his way home that day, and he took the opportunity to get me flowers in honor of my debilitating injury. He even made dinner (canned chili). I love flowers. My husband is the bestest. However, the yellow and green bruise on my arm is not an injury resulting from my own stupidity. All I have to say about that one is that it is a good thing that the nurses working for Brian someday will be giving the shots. I think I might start doing my own shots again.

Cumorah is growing up so fast. She's a smart cookie. Very aware of things around her, she picks up on stuff really fast. Too fast, sometimes. We were at the store the other day. A little market we hadn't been to yet called Gateway Market. It is a neat store, yummy specialty gourmet type stuff. But it is no Trader Joe's. It's too expensive, more like Whole Foods. (I can't get over the lack of Trader Joe's. I've been on the website several times suggesting they build one in Iowa, they're not listening to me.) There was no room in the cart for Cumorah so she oscillated between crying on the floor and being Mommy's big helper. Mommy's big helper won out in the end, when she got enough free samples from workers at the store who thought she was really cute despite her tantrums. When we were all done browsing, she helped put our selections on the counter, tipping them up over the edge on her tiptoes. She got her purse out of the cart and I told her we didn't need to buy that and she could put it back, but she ignored me and set it on the ground, fishing around inside of it. I watched her curiously while I emptied the rest of the cart. She found her wallet and opened it up. She pulled out her credit card (the type you get in the mail that say "your name here") and tipped that up onto the counter to give to the checker. I could hardly contain my laughter as I realized this little girl knows exactly what that piece of plastic is. You give it to the checker at the store and they give you all the stuff you want to take home. Watch out Daddy, your little girl knows how to shop.

Another funny about Cumorah... She loves to go to nursery at church. Once when we forgot something on our way to church and had to go back to the house, she started frantically yelling, "Nurshie, nurshie, nurshie!" as we were pulling into the driveway. She practically runs down the hallway at church on her way to nursery. She sings all of the typical nursery-type primary songs around the house. The singing is VERY cute. This last Sunday Brian asked her who was in nursery and she said matter-of-factly, "Boys."


The girls have been sick a lot lately. And when they're not actually sick, their noses are still running. Cumorah has taken her own box of tissues to various places where other people are watching her. The cough is what bothers me. The only real treatment recommended for your standard non-serious cough is a humidifier. But when the house is already at 70% humidity, it's hard to imagine a humidifier doing anything more but aid the growth of mold spores. Oh well, winter will be here soon enough and the heater will take all that moisture out of the air and we will be plugging our humidifier in after all.





Cumorah has gone pee pee in the potty several times. We're not potty training in earnest, but she was interested and so we play around with it some. She likes to run around the house with a bare bum for a while and then go sit on the toilet and read one of her two potty books. Her daddy wasn't sure about the nakie bum part, especially when I let her out on the back porch where the neighbors could see. So we tried running around in big girl panties just recently. Nope, didn't work. So we'll just go back to the occasional nakie bum for now until we get a little more serious about it.









And Rivers...Rivers is Rivers, just so darned cute and fun. She's cute when she's screaming and she's cute when she's happy. She got the long dark eyelashes, too. They touch her eyebrows. Rivers is a mover. She squirms and strecthes and bounces her legs. She doesn't stay in bouncy seats (there's a reason they tell you to buckle them at all times) and she almost flips out of the bumbo, too. Something that Cumorah didn't do until she was almost one. Rivers is rolling over a lot. She does push ups and is quite strong. She looks like she's going to start crawling tomorrow, but she's not sitting up yet. She is also very into fine motor skills. She likes to carefully grab and pick at things with her little fingers. She has a very pleasant coo, the type that makes strangers just gush over. She loves attention. She LOVES kisses and returns them with a wide opened gummy mouth. She likes to touch my face while she's nursing and cuddling, and she likes to play with my hair. She's a momma's girl. It makes Brian pout and vow to win her over eventually. I'd say he should just be happy that Cumorah is HIS little girl. Isn't it delightful that it's him she cries for in the middle of the night? Oh, and I just felt Rivers first tooth poking through on the bottom yesterday, though I have yet to see it. No wonder she was having a hard time napping.

batteries

About 15 minutes after Cumorah was put to bed tonight she started wailing, suddenly and intensely. I went in to check on her. Turns out glow worm's batteries were so low that he was stuck on one song and kept quitting before he finished it. I tried the "we'll give him new batteries tomorrow" tactic. Didn't work. I heard her press his button right after I left the room and sure enough, when he cut out she lost it. So glow worm went downstairs to Daddy to get new batteries. (It's the complicated type of change that requires a screwdriver.) Cumorah didn't peep while the batteries were being changed and she smiled her very-pleased smile when her newly rejuvenated glowing friend was returned with fresh brightness and vigor. She's still not asleep though. Glow worm is making too much noise for that. Darn battery operated toys.

playgown

We went to Raccoon River Park today. To play at the "playgown". It rained all night last night so we brought one of our retro-70's rag towels to dry off the swings and what not. I was enjoying the weather, remembering winter back home and pretending that this would be a typical winter day here, too. Cool 50 degree temps , wet and rainy... ahhhh beautiful. Oh well, can't hurt to dream. Cumorah had a great time swinging, climbing on things and running around a lot. Rivers slept for part of the time, completely covered in her car seat pod. For the other part of the time she peeked at us from her warm and cozy position. It reminded me of the time we took Cumorah to the beach in Crescent City, CA. Same car seat, same blanket we keep in the trunk. That time the blanket was flapping like mad in the wind and Brian was flying his kite way down low over the ocean in front of her so Cumorah could see it. Don't have any pictures of that, but it is pretty clear in my memory.






















It got pretty misty towards the end of our stay at the park and it started to rain fairly good on our way home for lunch. The best part was the second helping of hot chocolate with Halloween marshmallows that Cumorah helped make on the stove with her "kitchehh towah".




Oh, how sweet it was.