I've been tagged (thanks, Val)

1. Who is your man? paul
2. How long have you been together? 5+ years
3. How long dated? a few months, officially...but doesn't "hanging out" for 1-1/2 years count for anything around here?
4. How old is your man? almost 29 and as adorable as ever
5. Who eats more? sadly, we're probably about the same...except i eat more junk food. sweet
6. Who said "I love you" first? him
7. Who is taller? paul's got me by about 8 inches
8. Who sings better? he does
9. Who is smarter? we're both smart in different ways and about different things
10. Who's temper is worse? paul hardly has what you could call a temper, so i guess i win this one (yay?)
11. Who does the laundry? me, although he helps fold/put away and does his own ironing (bless him)
12.Who takes out the garbage? we both do as needed
13. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? looking at the bed from the foot end, i do (i'm not sure what this question is meant to illustrate, but whatever)
14. Who pays the bills? he provides the $$, i send it to where it needs to go. i'd say, technically, he does
15. Who is better with the computer? paul, oh so definitely
16. Who mows the lawn? he does usually
17. Who cooks dinner? me
18. Who drives when you are together? him, unless i'm picking him up somewhere
19. Who pays when you go out? paul does
20. Who is most stubborn? probably me
21. Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? i don't really know, neither one of us is ever wrong (hah). fine, we're probably tied
22. Whose parents do you see the most? his
23. Who kissed who first? i kissed him...we might still be working on that if i hadn't taken the initiative... (i love you, paul)
24. Who asked who out? he did
25. Who proposed? he did
26. Who is more sensitive? me
27. Who has more friends? probably me
28. Who has more siblings? me
29. Who wears the pants in the family? we both do, but they are a loving pair of pants

i tag - annie b, stephanie, tyrelle

Bear Lake monsters

Yesterday, some girlfriends and I took our kids to Bear Lake for the afternoon. We stopped and ate lunch before we hit "the beach" (my apologies, to those of you who live by an actual oceanic beach, for my casual use of the word, "beach," which to us mainlanders includes a few grains of sand at the edge of any type and size of water body).

Other than the initial cold and rain that pelted us upon our arrival (we moms sat and whimpered about the rain while the kids immediately and happily grabbed shovels and buckets and began frolicking in the eternal sandbox that is Bear Lake beach), it was a glorious afternoon. The kids loved the water and the sand, and we moms loved "guarding" the snack table (of course, it took all three of us). Come to think of it, Layla took to the snack table pretty readily as well. Chip off the ol' block.

I personally couldn't get enough of the fact that Carson, who is usually pretty clingy and dependent on Paul and me, romped around with the boys for nearly the entire afternoon. They were out, neck-high, having some sort of pow-wow in the chilly water forEVER, then they jumped and crawled around in the sand, then spent the last part of the day digging for treasure. Carson's heart nearly broke when I explained that the "treasure" his friends were looking for actually consisted of rocks and shells and stuff...not a real pirate's treasure chest, filled with gold and jewels. To the aspiring pirate that is my son, this did come as a huge disappointment.

Anyway, it was a great day. Sand and water and friends...is there any better combination?

Sugar and Spice...

That's what this soon-to-be-not-so-little girl is made of. Why? you ask. Well, let me tell you. In the past, oh, 48 hours, I've downed the following: many chocolate/pnut butter treats, a slice of fruit pizza, three glasses of juice, chocolate caramel brownie, pudding pie, a lemon square, almost a whole bag of some gummy worms, and six lemon cookies.

Awesome. I think I've reached Guiness Book levels.

"P" is for Daddy

When eating pretzels, Carson likes to bite them into the shape of a letter of the alphabet and tell me what letter it is. The other day, he made a C (obviously, his favorite letter), a B (for Brittney, bumblebee, and bird), then followed it up with a D (for drum and door). I added, "yes, and 'D' is also for Daddy!" Carson: (looking half confused and half patiently condescending for my lack of understanding) "no, mom, 'P' is for Daddy!" What a weird concept spelling is.

Also, Carson informed Paul and me the other night that when he gets big and gets a wife, he's going to move away into his own house to live, but that he will miss us and will visit us. Paul and I broke into enormous grins and exchanged looks equivalent to a happy dance and visual high-fives across the table. "We'll miss you, too," one of us managed. I suppose we will, but sometimes we look forward to the opportunity of missing him. :)

New moon

Carson was sitting idly on the potty this afternoon when he peered down into the water. "Oooh! It's DARK down der! But I don't see dah moon anywhere!" It was said innocently enough, but I didn't even try to suppress my smile. Heh. Believe me, that water was in full moon light, kiddo.

Dressups fun

This is the first time my kids have really played dressups, and they loved it. Carson was Spider-Man (and he's wearing the finest of nylon one-piece 80s-style Spider-Man costumes to prove it) (oh, and a Hawaiian printed cape that, to the layman, might appear to be a swimsuit wrap but in reality is a genuine artifact containing magical powers sorely needed by Spider-Man himself). As such, he loved climbing up the walls and across the ceilings, requiring only the slightest of help from his very patient uncle Matt.

And, adorned in a lovely and most becoming sequined tube top that, unfortunately, kept falling down, I think Layla was going yet again for Cindy Lou Who.

"Go away," they told me, bah-rum-pum-pum-pum

Carson inherited a toy drum (equipped with a cymbal, tamborine, and other wooden thing...a million points to anyone who can tell me what the wood thing's called) this weekend from his aunt Nicol (who, by the way, has since baaaaaaarely eked her way off the Black List by sending me some most delicious fresh homemade bread... mmmmm... carbs...).

He's reached a dangerous crossroads, though, where on one hand he thinks he's pretty good so he plays the drums often for our, um, "enjoyment," but on the other hand he realizes he still needs practice to be really good, so he plays them often for his, um, "musical" development. [editor's note: ah, the randomly placed quotation mark: an author's "delight."]

So, in a nutshell, we're hearing a lot of orderless, incessant beats of the drum/cymbal/tamborine/random wood thingy lately. But the best part (because I'm sure that just sounds like heaven in and of itself) is that, on occasion, Carson will get caught up in his music and, apparently, be so moved that he just has to start singing along. And, for real, isn't that music to any mother's ears?

Jewelry by any other name...

Layla's the ecstatic and very appreciative beneficiary of several purses stuffed with the finest of dollar-store jewels from her growing-out-of-such-things cousins. Layla's crazy about accessories. I'm pretty sure that she'd make a bracelet out of her two X chromosomes, if given the chance, then flaunt her finery for all the world to see.

I think it's adorable now, but I may be singing a different tune in about 10 years.

Biker dude

Forgive the photo-less entry, but I'll make up for it later. Anyway, had to report: my cute little sister and her husband are here for the weekend. Paul had to work today, as did her husband, so my sis and I took the kids and headed to the park (Carson on his bike and Lays in her stroller). Carson proudly sported his new bike helmet (guess who got mildly scolded at his last doctor's appt for not having my toddler wear a helmet on his bike? oops), accompanied by some intense elbow and knee pads decorated with cartoon bears. For some reason, Carson considered himself a "real" bike rider as a result of said attire. (Oh how I wish a pic accompanied this so you could see the irony...) He kept pedaling furiously...then stopping abruptly...then going....then stopping, and at each transaction, he would look back at us and explain, so patiently, "REAL bikers go fast, and den dey stop!" "REAL bikers look boat (both) ways before dey cross dah street." "REAL bikers wear dese pads and a helment when dey bike AND when dey run, so when dey fall, dey don't get hurt!"

So, moral of the story: If you're at the Top of Utah marathon next month, look for me. I'll be the one with knee and elbow pads, collapsing safely through the finish line...

Kid Time Warp

Just when I think she's starting to get all grown-up on me...


...

...the silliness resurfaces. Phew.

A Most Delightful Jail

Carson loves to be in "jail" in Layla's crib. (Uh, yeah, CARSON loves it. *eyes shifting nervously back and forth*...of course, I have nothing to do with it...)

Yesterday, uponst my hearing suspiciously conspiracy-laden giggles escaping her room, I peeked through Layla's doorway to find Lays sliding books to her inmate brother (whose hand was sticking out through two slats to help gather in the book loot) "locked" into the crib. "More, Lays! I need more books!" he'd shriek before he even had the current one inside, but she quickly complied anyway. This had been going on for long enough that there was literally hardly any room for Carson himself in the jail. (These pics are pre-book-conspiracy.) Interesting how well they get along when one is locked up...

"My sole literary ambition is to write one good novel, then retire to my hut in the desert, assume the lotus position, compose my mind and senses, and sink into meditation, contemplating my novel." (Edward Abbey)

Quotes of the day

For reasons I'll keep to myself, the following two quotes speak deeply to me:

1: "Life is not a series of great heroic acts. Life at its best is a matter of consistent goodness and decency." (Gordon B. Hinckley)

2: "If you think something small can't make a difference, try going to sleep with a mosquito in the room." (Unknown)

Sprinkler surprise

So one of our sprinkler pipes broke the other night. Paul woke up in the middle of the night (I didn't even stir...heh) to a roaring geyser exploding out of a pipe outside, slamming into the eave directly above it. But when we went out to fix it, we couldn't find the crack again without turning on all the sprinkler lines...unfortunately, unbeknownst (?) to us, Layla was playing in the lawn at the spot where we were testing a sprinkler line. Poor thing got the surprise of her life. But she loves water and quickly got over the shock and we all had a great time playing.

Oh, and Paul got the pipe fixed like a champ. And Carson finally gave in and put on his swim trunks. And Layla eventually dried off (see photos; and, yes, these were taken on the same day as Library Day, hence the same outfits). And I threw domesticity to the wind and got pizza for dinner. And we all lived happily ever after. The end.

Library trip

Seriously, what's better than a boatload of new library books? Hardly anything. Well, maybe eating chocolate Creamies...on a beach...in the Virgin Islands...with an icy umbrella-bedecked tropical beverage within an arm's reach... Okay, FINE, so we have something to work toward, but still. New library books = peaceful and enjoyable afternoon.

p.s. Yes, Layla went into public with her hair like that. With confidence, I might add. It's becoming her signature look, what can I say.

Madame Librarian

So, after going to the library (see today's other post) and getting a bazillion and three books, Layla started doing this thing where she'd take one book and turn it sideways, then slide it back and forth across the pile of books. It took me a while to realize that she was copying the librarian who did that de-magnetization thing at the library, and she was taking her job quite seriously.

I've always wanted to be a librarian (sincerely...Paul is well aware that it's one of my top 3 job picks for after the kids are in school; I'll even volunteer if I have to), and I actually remember doing the same thing when I was a kid, but I was much older than Layla. If there's such a thing as a librarian prodigy, I think I've found her...

New camera

I lost our camera last week, so we "had" to get a new one. Paul let Carson try it out. A far cry from Ansel Adams, but the photo makes me smile. (If you look closely, Paul is woefully out-of-focus. I know that Paul was sitting still, so that means that Carson was probably dancing around while he took this picture. You can tell by Paul's expression that he's borderline concerned about the new camera but is trying to be a good sport and let Carson figure things out. The mental image of this 2-second incident is just delicious.)

Mistakes in Motherhood

Sometimes I wonder if even Mary Poppins could seal the deal on the potty training of my darling firstborn. He remains consistently inconsistent, which makes leaving our house in anything but a diaper tricky. But he's offended if I ask (or force, if I'm being completely honest) him to make the switch before we head out the door.

Anyway, he did great in his big boy undies all morning, so I rewarded him with the opportunity to prove himself on our errand run, which he did magnificently. However, the nature of this morning's errands were tedious and left me fairly grouchy by the time we got home...a grouchiness that exploded into full-on frustration when, upon carrying the last load in from the car, I discovered a large puddle underneath a very guilty-looking Carson at the kitchen counter (this was not an isolated incident).

I tried to hold my tongue and grasp for any shred of patience before I reacted, but it didn't help that a large lightbult also smashed into the tile simultaneous to my unwelcome discovery, spreading shards of glass amidst the already, um, wet wreckage. Carson was stripped and exiled to sit on the potty and "think about what happened here," Layla was foodlessly locked into her highchair, and I fought back tears of annoyance and frustration while I tackled the mess, vocalizing said annoyance and frustration in a most juvenile manner. When the floor was finally cleaned up, I stormed into the bathroom to put a diaper on Carson...who looked up at me, lip quivering and trying to blink back tears, "I'm sawee, Mommy. I'll twy to do bettah nekt time."

Dangit. In true Mary Poppins form, may I please snap my fingers and have a redo of the last 10 minutes of my life? I suppose, just as in potty training, in motherhood there are going to be lots of "accidents." Chalk one up for me...

Bedtime prayers

Carson's bedtime prayer tonight: "Tank you foi (for) duh woilds (world). And tank you foi duh buhds (birds) in duh woilds." Good thing he went on to say a few more token phrases...it kept him from seeing my silent chuckling. Ah kids.

Sweet little Layla...

Church can really wear a girl out...