Nephi

Family Home Evening is always an adventure.  Since Mitchell had trouble expressing himself, we always did short, simple, basic lessons, usually from the nursery manual, things like "Heavenly Father loves you" and "I am thankful for fish"

Which were great, and still are.  But after watching this past conference "someone" (ha) said something *like* (ha) Kids understand more than you think they do, and something about how they need to know scripture stories. I'm not really sure.  In fact, I don't even have enough of that "quote" to go look it up.  Awesome, right?

But anyway, Mike and I decided to focus on book of mormon stories for family home evening.  Then, when Mitchell gets to primary, he can blow everyone away with the abundant knowledge I will shove in his head in these short 2 months. (He's going to be a sunbeam! (yay) I cannot believe it.)

So, the beginning seems like a good place to start.  And every monday for the past few weeks, we've been talking about Nephi.  Nephi has a lot of great stories:

1. Nephi slays Laban
2. Nephi breaks his bow
3.  Nephi's dad has a dream
4. Nephi builds a boat
5. Nephi's brothers are mean, the liahona stops working.
6.  Nephi makes swords with Laban's sword.

Mostly, this all were pretty interesting to Mitchell.  We drew pictures and used the book of book of mormon stories (yeah, that's pretty explanatory of me.  I'm just full of awesome today)

Mitchell was pretty hysterically awesome for all these stories.  He clearly did not understand the slaying of the head, but loved loved the boat stories.  In fact, he's still going around telling me that Nephi built a boat, and Laman and Lemuel said sorry and that "fixed" the boat.

So, the other day, we're playing with tinker toys, and Mitchell puts some sticks together and proudly explains that he "built Nephi's boat!!" Oh, my.  This is just adorable.  Also, he knows the "I will go, I will DOOO!" Nephi song and sings it regularly.  Not as regularly as "Tonight, Tonight.  There's a party on the roof top top of the world" but still. He's been a.dor.a.ble.

So, tonight.  Nephi, well, dies.  And I figure the allegory of the olive trees is, actually, a little over Mitchell's head.  So, we skip over to Enos, and...

No.  Mitchell just did not want any of it.  "Look he's praying" No.  He wanted to learn more about Nephi and his boat, so he pulled out the book and retold it (again).  It goes something like "Nephi builded a boat. OH, scaarrry. Nephi so sad!  Say sorry.  All better.  Kisses and hugs! Yay!"

Lovely.  It's adorable watching him grow up.  For Christmas, santa will probably bring him a huge poster of Nephi, to go along side his temple pictures.  Along with Legos and a rocket ship (which, I have NO idea where that came from.  But he wants a rocket ship) And I'm hoping he's still into Nephi by next halloween, because THAT would seriously be so great.

And Ali gets cuter by the minute.  She hates any item of clothing on her body, and is really good at taking her socks and bows out.  Actually, Mitchell doesn't really like wearing clothes either.  So, don't come over without calling first, because there are no guarantees.

Ali's turned into a full fledged daddy's girl.  She LOVES him.  And Mikes the only one that can get her to laugh really loud, which is cute.  And Mike eats it up.  It's really fun. She also loves pulling Mitchell's hair, which is annoying and hilarious to Mitchell, depending on his mood.  She has such a funny personality.

Anyway, I don't have any pictures because I threw away my camera cord and my mac doesn't have an sd card slot, so I have to put them on mike's computer and email them to myself.  And I don't feel good, so that's just not happening.

Halloweeeeeeen

Let me paint the scene.

Also, I pressed this fabric I swear.

Every year, I think of the most amazing costumes ever, not that I'm biased and/or humble, and either Mike and his manhood shut it down, or I get lazy, and we end up buying a costume that doesn't fit or we just work with what is already in the closet.

Now, this year, Mitchell decides he loves shapes.  And when I asked him what he wanted to be (as I've been asking him every year), I finally understood the jabber as he exclaimed "A CIRCLE!"

Oh great.  A circle.  how original.

Note: After searching the entire state for white leggings that I needed for her birthday, I remember my sister-in-law gave her some last Christmas, in a 12 month size- so they would fit her... oh, about now.  Not joking.  Please, always check your closets before killing yourself.

At midnight, whist winning the internet, I decided pac-man was the most awesome circle of all time.  And Ali could be a ghost, and it would be perfect because she would follow him around everywhere.

And Mike was all "Yes.  That's a great idea" * Note: It might have been that he was only half awake since it was midnight and I woke him up because I was so excited.  (Which is what I do every time  I get a "great idea" Mike hasn't had a full night sleep in years)

So the next morning, I introduced Mitchell to pac-man and we practice saying it together.  Also, we practiced this as the answer to all those "what are you going to be for halloween?" questions strangers ask Mitchell at the grocery store.  (They always assume they are going to understand the answer.  And when they don't, they assume I understand him.  And when I don't, I feel like a failure as a mother.  So all annoying stranger-danger questions are routinely practiced before we go to the store.  And I'm only half joking)

Now that I've got my 3 year old obsessed with pac-man, I decide that this really has to happen this year and I can't be lazy about it.

So I went to joanns and bought some cheap fabric in yardage I just sort of guessed at the cutting counter.

And then I went home and let it sit on my desk for a few weeks, as is customary when I decide to make things for people for holidays.

And when I finally got around to it, I decided that my quilt hoop is a nice big circle to trace.

Of course it looked bigger than it actually was. But overall, it was fine.  Halloween costumes are something I don't really care about.  Ali's dress was held together by a safety pin.

Mitchell had a preschool party, and he gave out bouncy balls- yet another circle.

And on Halloween, the four of us ate a bunch of chili and doughnuts and ventured out to the neighborhood where Mitchell got loaded because "Trick or Treat! Thank you! Happy Halloween! I'll come back!" are adorable coming from a 3 year old dressed up as pac-man.  Of course, 90 mins or so into this adventure, instead of saying "trick or treat" Mitchell said "I need to go potty." and tried to walk up the stairs and find the bathroom himself.   Oh, nice.  Now, these people are in our ward, but we had no idea who was at the door or I probably would have been that "Can he use the bathroom?" mom.  But instead, I took Ali out of the stroller and put Mitchell in the stroller and Mike ran Mitchell to the park to use the bathroom.  And Ali and I tried to keep up, but Mike is really fast, or I'm in really bad shape.

And then since Mitchell didn't want the night to end, we walked around the apartment complex, which, apparently didn't get any kids, so Mitchell got huge handfuls.  *sigh*

And then we went home, and went to bed.

Singing Time with Mitchell

Lollipop

Mitchell's Lyrics: Lollipop, lollipop, oohh (*pop*) Lollipop, lollipop, lollipop. Boop. Boop. Boop.

Down By the Banks

Mitchell's Lyrics: Down by the banks.  Frogs bank and bank. Jump and jump. EEP. IIP. OOP! One jump lily and

Cici oh playmate

Mitchell's Lyrics: Cici Playmate.  (Clap Clap) Play with me! Climb Apple Tree! Slide down rainbow.  Play with Daddies friends and we'll SHUT THE DOOR!

The boy child decides he will die without a fish.

Which is Mike.  Mitchell decided to be terrified of fish the moment we walked into the fish store.

The conversation goes like this:

Mike: "Let's GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!"

(Side note: I don't particularly like getting 'OUT OF THE HOUSE'  So saturdays end up with me in my pajamas.  sitting.  being lazy.  doing nothing but tackling my children around and pretending to watch football.  I like and enjoy it.  Mike, on the other hand, has to do something every day.  Usually that something is go to work.  And on Sunday's it's go to church.  Which leaves saturday the only day to do nothing, but alas, he can't handle it.  Sometimes I tell him to take Mitchell to the park, store, etc so I can continue to be lazy, but then, sometimes I give in and we do random things like: Walk down to the pool at our complex only to find that it is closed for the season then wrangle screaming children in the car trying to convince them that we're still going swimming! and end up paying like 20 freaking bucks just so we don't lie to our children.  Or drive around and look at houses.  Or go to sonic. (that's always my choice, and my idealistic getting out of the house 'adventure'))

Meagan: "well, my dad is in town, and we're going to lunch."

Mike: "In like 5 hours! LETS DOOOOOO SOMETHING!"

Meagan: "like go to sonic?"

Mike: "Lets go get a fish for mitchell.  He's always wanted one, plus it teaches him responsibility"

Meagan: "You mean our 3 year old came to you and told you he wanted a fish and he's going to take care of it? This was communicated to you? I'm suspicious..."

Mike: "Mitchell do you want a fish?"

Mitchell: "Yes." (Note: He's dropped the "yeah" and always emphasizes the 's' in "yes")

Mike: "Will you love it?"

Mitchell: "Yes."

Mike: "Will you look at it?"

Mitchell: "Yes."

Mike: "Will you feed it?"

Mitchell: "Yes."

Meagan: "Oh my gosh fine! FINE! We can go get a fish.  Like a beta or something?"

Mike: "No.  I hate beta fish.  I killed mine."

Meagan: ".......sooooo..... a goldfish?"

Mike: "Yes.  Then we can get 2."

Meagan: "Okay 2!! Then we can name them Bonnie and Clyde"

Mike: "Or Tyrell and Prior"

Meagan: "Or Shake and Spear"

Mike: "Or we let Mitch decide"

Mitchell: "House."

So because Mike and I have an unhealthy fear of spending money, we go to Hobby Lobby to get a fish bowl and some rocks.

He *did* end up liking the fish.

I'm 99% sure the fish bowl we decided on is a vase.  But you can't beat $4.  And the rocks, we desperately tried to convince Mitchell to get the natural sea stone black variety.  But he wasn't giving up on the blue glass stones so FINE. We bought the blue stones.

And then we headed over to petco.  Where Mitchell exclaimed that fish were "so scary" and would not pick a goldfish out.

Being determined that today was the day we were going to get a fish, Mike found an employee to get some goldfish.  She was really unhelpful and basically told us we had to have a filter/pump for any fish except beta (Mike: "We're not getting a beta!") and referred us to the aquarium store. Which was kind of strange, I thought.

So we went to the aquarium store.   Mitchell did not like any of the fish.  That did not stop mike us.  Apparently, fish need air, which is what a pump would give them.  Pumps are only 5 dollars, but attaching it to the 4 dollar vase we already bought wasn't going to happen.  Mike started suggesting duct tape, but I shot that down real quick.

According to the fish expert, who was much more helpful and nice than the local Petco manager, we had three options: A beta, tropical betas, or change the water out every other day so the fish get air.

Hm.  And what do you think we chose?

Yeah, the much more labor extensive option.  It's fine.  Cleaner water is better anyway.  Oh, except you can't change the water out completely,  only 1/2 of it.  GAHHHH. WHY ARE WE BUYING A FISH?!

So, because we're both unsure of how this fish thing is going to work out, we decide on "feeder fish" aka: the 10 cent goldfish normally bought to feed other fish.  The guy at the aquarium (after spending 30 mins answering all our ridiculous questions) said "you're doing these fish a huge favor." and I thought, "maybe.  We'll see"

We bought 5.  I'm still not convinced our "fish bowl" is big enough.

We settled on names:

Law and Order SVU style.

Meet:

Taking pictures of fish is harder than I thought.

Detective Stabler (moonlights as "house" and/or "pluto")
Detective Benson
Munch
Casey Novak
Cragen.


So, Sunday morning, Mike has found one of the fish has died (Detective Benson). He's pretty upset and comes running in and waking me up.  To which I say "Can you not make this a big deal? You're going to upset Mitchell"

And he, in a melodramatic mood apparently, says: "Fine.  Since I'm the only one in the house that cares about THIS FISH.  I will take care of it!"

Oh. my.  well.  This is just lovely.

I'm pretty sure he had a small funeral, by himself, in the bathroom, but I'm not sure.  I feel bad, I do.  I mean, the fish should not give up after less than 24 hours of being in our care.  We're not that bad...

Until this morning.  When I was, again, changing out the water, I forgot Casey Novak and she fell in the sink.  There was a lot of screaming and shaking from me and a lot of "get it! Get it! AHHHHHHH" from Mitchell, who, well, I'm trying to teach him responsibility right?! and a lot of blubbering mocking from Ali.

We saved her.  Barely.  I'm not really sure I can handle this.

Which brings me to my next thought "How are our children still alive? They are much more difficult than fish."

But cuter.  And more fun. Even if they do start refusing any and all hair clips.  Time for bangs? (noooo)

Goo-Goo Turns One

Which is pretty exciting for most people.  I, though, basically sobbed for an entire week prior.  BUT. I held myself together on the actual day.  Which, I think is the first time I did not cry on a birthday.  Except Mike's birthday, since I never cry on his birthday.  I think it's funny he's getting sooo ooooold.  haha.

Anyway.  This year went by far too fast.  Mike keeps showing me pictures of Mitchell when he was Ali's age, and it's freaking me out.  They have to stop growing up, or I might die.  I'm already getting gray hairs, and I'm only 24.  What's worse than that, is that I keep putting off my long overdue hair cut because I told myself I needed to get it colored "the next time" and well.....I don't want to start coloring my hair on a regular basis.  Just to hide the grays! This is ridiculous! And I look ridiculous because my hair is a dead color of brown and I'm being stubborn about something that's not going to get any better.  Unless I dye it.  But that's not really better, is it?

So I told Mitchell to stop growing up and he patted me on the head and said "okay".  That's wonderful, Mitch, thank you.  Can you try your green beans? "NO DINNER TODAY!"

Fine.

Anyway.  So Mitchell was really excited about Ali's upcoming birthday, and spent the 2 weeks or so prior singing, "happy birthday to goo-goo" all day.  and night.  It was pretty funny.  We did our tradition of balloons tied on all of our kitchen chairs, and Mitchell woke up very pleased.  Pleased enough to wake his sister up, and show her himself.  He's so flipping adorable to her, I can hardly stand it.

We made homemade pop tarts for breakfast and they were disgusting.  I don't recommend it.  Pinterest suggested pie crusts and jam.  I thought it sounded okay. No.  Just no.  Never again.

I stayed up till 1am finishing a dress and baby doll, and I have no idea why I kid myself into thinking I am capable of sewing.  I'm totally a wreck. And I always end up at my mothers.  And end up driving her insane by my threats of giving completely up and/or throwing things against the wall.  She keeps telling me I'm a perfectionist.  To which I laugh.  And then remind her of my non-exsistant housewife skills. Seriously.

So, I've come to realize that the Easter dress I made her last spring, was my fault.  Simplicity does not equal simple.  I still think that's stupid, but I'm done ranting about it.

"Mom, what IS this thing?"

However, when someone actually tells me to my face that their down syndrome daughter makes these dolls, and shows pictures of her never-sewed-a-day-in-his-life son making them (those are not lies!), I tend to believe that it is a "beginner" or "Meagan approved" or "Meagan will be able to make this without her mother" project.  Um.  Lies.  All lies.  This was quite possibly the most frustrating thing I've ever made.  Ali thinks it's some kind of mutant and won't even look at it.  It had potential. And I'm fully aware that this is my problem, and that obviously some people can do it.  And the pattern was excellent.  Seriously.  I read through it beforehand like 33 million times and convinced myself it was going to be easy.  It was pretty tricky.  And that's fine.  I think I prefer shopping in cute doll shops anyway.

*sigh* I'm over it.  I'm going to stick to making "simple" (not simplicity) dresses and drawing pictures and pretend to know exactly what I'm talking about.  Even though I have no idea.  No idea. I do plan on figuring out some kind of clothing for the mutant baby doll to wear, since the gown I made her at 4 in the morning, washed out her skin color, and it sort of really does look like a mutant.

And the dress took 2.5 seconds to make, and I think I like those kind of sewing projects. If I ever sew again. Which, at this point, is not likely.


So Ali and Mitchell and I played all day long.  They were in the best mood, which is not really unusual.  I'm pretty lucky to have such awesome kids.

I decided this year to try to make a fondant cake.  So I found a marshmallow fondant recipe and got all the stuff for it.  And then, being caught up in all these projects, didn't put a lot more thought into it.

That's not a joke either.  So I made the fondant, and covered the cake.  Thinking, at this point, this was a really good decision, because the top layer of my cake was falling in crumbles, so the fondant, literally, held the dang thing together.  After all these sewing fails the night before, this made me kind of giddy.

Except that, I had no thought whatsoever what to do at that point.

Uhhhh.  I didn't even dye it! It was just white!

Kind of hilariously, I dyed some scraps of fondant pink and found some old gel decorating whatever in green and made some flowers.  Sort of.  The stems looked weird so I tried to wipe it off and start over, but it looked even more weird, so I just.....did it.  Emma came in and excitedly exclaimed I did the graffiti style.  Awesome.  I'm even legit.

So the cake, obviously, looked ridiculous too! I decided all these major fails kept me laughing all day, instead of dwelling on the fact I no longer had a baby.

Oh, and also, the dress I made her was pretty short, and I spent a week and a half trying to find white leggings that do not exist in the state of Utah.  Which is sort of funny, because everyone and their dog wears leggings.  So I did end up making some white leg warmers that were kind of funny.  That Mike really really detests.  I think they're cute!

Basically, here's the cliff note version of this post:

1. Birthday breakfast: Fail
2. Birthday cake: Fail
3. Birthday doll: Fail
4. Birthday dress: Debatable
5. Birthday brother: The best
6. Overall score: Mom didn't cry!

We had a party later that night, which was a lot of fun.  We had my family over and Mike's step sister and her cute family over.  My mom made her the most adorable sweater and hat I have ever seen in my entire life.  So cute, every time I put it on her I take a million pictures.  Mike's family got Ali a stroller and darling, darling, baby doll that Ali adores.  And I mean adores.  She sleeps with it, and will not let it out of her sight.  And forbids Mitchell from touching it.  And she seems like she finally understands what the stroller actually does but still insists on removing the baby doll from the stroller.  Angie and Amy both got Ali new clothes, which are always needed.  And we got her some other little fun toys that Mitchell still thinks are his.

And she's walking now.  Almost everywhere.  And she talks a lot.  Not that we can understand her, but she babbles constantly.  It's really funny.

Still cannot believe the child is a year already.  Where does time go?

Mitchell has gone from talking a little to FULL ON NON STOP COMPLETE SENTENCES IN THIS YELLING VOICE.

Seriously.  And it's so funny.  But he gets mad when you laugh at him, so Mike and I do this weird smirk thing to each other.  Mitchell has opinions about everything.  He calls all of his stuffed animals his "friends" as in "NO! IT'S MINE FRIENDS!" and insists on sleeping with all 15 of them every night.  And will not rest until every last one of them is tucked away safely in his arms.

He's also really dramatic.  "I SOOO HUNGRY! MAMA! HUNGRY! I SOOOO HUNGRY!!!!"

"Do you want some oatmeal?"
"no."
"A sandwitch?"
"no"
"Yogurt?"
"no..... Juice?"
"Juice? Are you thirsty?"
"I HUNGRY FOR JUICE!"

I'm just happy they play together, pretty well.  There is bound to be fighting, sobs, tears, and bloodshed, but the two of them do really well for the most part.  It is so fun watching them play nicely together.  Mitchell loves showing Ali how to do things (like, climb on the couch, open the toilet, scream for joy, and poke eyeballs) and Ali follows Mitchell around everywhere.  She's like his little shadow, and has this lost look on her face when she can't find him.  He still climbs in her crib, but now I find him reading to her instead of trying to bounce her out, which is good.

And last but not least, the halloween candy I bought last week is gone! And 2 pounds have been added to my stomach. I do this every year.  Next year, someone remind me that buying candy early is not a good idea.  Especially since no one living here has any sort of self control, apparently.

Today I....

1.  Woke up at 3 am (child #2), 6 am (husband), and 6:30 am (child #1).
2.  Half slept on the couch till 7:30 am.
3. Cleaned up a mixture of mr. potato head, tinker toys and legos, all in the living room.
4. Mopped the floors.
5. Blowdried child #1's favorite underpants.
6. Broke my blowdryer.
7. Spent a total of 3.5 hours getting children down for naps that they refuse to take together (dang it).
8. Convinced my nudist to put clothing on.  Just kidding.  That will never happen. "NO PANTS TODAY!"
9.  Retrieved a quarter from almost being swallowed.
10. Put a collection of stickers over a hole on the ceiling because it looked like a spider, or monster, and caused Mitchell to plunge into hysterics.
11. Completed 2 loads of laundry, and dusted, setting the local record for the most cleaning in one day.
12. Watched (it was the slow motion kind of watching) as Mitchell, the incredible hulk, picked up his toys box, and threw it upside now.
13. Crawled in bed and refused to move until Mike gets home.  You can take it from here, honey.

The Boy Begins Preschool.

Picture courtesy of Mitchell

#1 I, like every other parent, parent.  I just don't like talking about it.  Consequently, I don't care what you do with your kid, but, I also seethe inside when people start criticizing. Especially me and my parenting.  Or lack of.   I feel like I should say this, because I'm about to do a lot of un-necessary explaining.  It feels weird, but I can't help it.

"PICTURE WITH GOO GOO TOO"

#2  Mike and I, after a bunch of hormone led talks whilst impregnated with child #1, came to the decision that we "would do what was best for each child, and allow that 'best' to vary" regarding preschool, and other things we didn't quite agree on.  I thought that meant I got to make all the decisions for everyone.  This has led to some minor conflict.

#3 I find that a lot of people have opinions about preschool.  Like politics, there is a wide, dramatic scale of opinions ranging from "If you do not send your kid to preschool, he will shrivel up and die.  And he will never be prepared for kindergarten because you cannot possibly be qualified to teach him how to count"  to "Preschool is for lazy mothers who don't like their kids." So, I sit at the "Preschool is too expensive and a waste of time since I know the ABCs and sing the chicka- chicka boom boom song every day" mark while Mike sits at the "Mickey mouse clubhouse does not count as learning" mark.

Also, he started demanding ALL his buttons be buttoned.  Whatever, dude.

But then, Mitch had a speech delay.  I refused to believe it for a good half year, and then, after he was tested, decided to only tell people on a "need to know" basis, to avoid the criticism I felt was inevitable (refer to #1).   So, blogging about it wasn't going to happen.  Though, now I am, and I just want to say that even though Mitch scored in the 1st percentile for language, he scored in the 90th + percentile for gross motor skills, fine motor skills, and cognitive development.  My smart little athlete.   And that, friends, is why he can open the "child proof" lids.

So Mitch had a speech therapist working with him until he turned three and aged out of early intervention. She was wonderful.   The next step is preschool.  AHHH.  3 years of preparing for the preschool battle wasted.  Now, preschool did become the best option, and well, I don't like it.  Well, I do, it's just pathetically emotional, and now you get to read my entire thought process on the whole ordeal, because I can't post pictures of his first day of school without saying it's his first day of school and I don't want anyone to say anything about anything (#1).

Since all the testing was at the school, Mitchell was quite comfortable there.  He waltzed right in without saying goodbye, let alone a kiss.  Ali and I came home, and looked at each other weird.  I'm sure it was a little strange playing with the legos without her trusted hero, but she managed.  And then she took a nap.  Which was awesome because I had the entire apartment to myself, sort of, and it was quiet.  I had forgotten what that sounded like.  I did a little happy dance in the living room, and then started to clean it because mondays are always nasty.  And two hours flew by, and we picked up a very hungry Mitchell who only had milk for his snack because he's so picky.  So after some english muffins and fruit snacks, Ali and I learned that he played with blocks, and cars, and the house.  And the sink.  And his hands were clean. And someone got hit, but I'm still not sure if Mitchell was even involved.  And it was "so fun" and "so nice".  oookay.

Mama's current mantra: "2 hours twice a week is nothing. You are being pathetic" It's hard sending them away so little! I'll be fine.  Mitchell's definitely fine.

And the second day, I demanded a kiss and a hug and Mitchell pointed to the door and said "bye mom! That way!" in an angry sort of voice. The teacher, having seen my horror-struck face, walked Mitchell back to my arms and I stole my kiss and hug.  Stinky kid.  Why do they grow up so fast?

Also, I finally got tired of changing diapers.  So he's potty-trained.  It took 2.5 seconds and I can count the accidents on one hand (though, they were the grossest kind of accidents, and I might have cursed and/or cried each time, but we got there) and we're so proud.  I'm such a wimp.  I should have done it a long time ago.

Ali's first ice cream cone.  She ate the entire thing by herself.  This includes the cone. I'm still not used to the "eats everything" idea.

Miss Ali turns one next month.  The year went by so incredibly fast.  She's insanely close to walking, taking 2-3 steps at a time, and tackles and plays with Mitchell all day long.  It's so adorable watching them play together.  Mitchell is an awesome big brother, and shares his legos and all his toys with her.  And she gives him kisses and giggles at him all day long.  Also, she's stepped up her game as side kick to Mitchell.  Together, they're unstoppable.  Like the fruit snacks.  I keep hiding them.  Mitchell always found them.  I hid them behind all the pots and pans and they went a week without notice.  And then Ali found them and crawled a few packs over (via mouth) to her brother and he opened them and they enjoyed Mickey Mouse clubhouse together.  I was sitting right there.  It was just too cute to stop.  I did say "I'm sitting right here!" but she doesn't care.  And neither did Mitchell.  Fruit snacks are now behind the cosco size box of oatmeal.  We'll see if that works.

Mitchell (still) loves all things water, so whenever Ali gets a bath, Mitch joins in too.  I suppose it saves water, but Ali hasn't had a bath by herself, haha.  Mitchell's first order of business is dumping an entire cup of water over her head, but she hasn't complained yet.

And I, (presumably by example), taught Mitchell how to say "No big deal."  Spiders? No big deal, mom.  Poo all over the toilet? No big deal, mom.  You woke Ali up? No big deal, mom.  Monsters in the closet? No big deal.

That, and after watching a jungle-themed episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, he calls me, and mike, "jungle pete".  As in, "mama is jungle pete!" what? I am not jungle pete!  You are jungle pete! "Motch-owl is NOT JUNGLE PETE!" haha.  

And then, as I'm tucking Mitchell into bed one night, he looks at the dark sky and says "uh-oh dada fix it" which, well, he thinks that dad fixes everything, papa always has batteries, (and you know, I'm always jungle pete).  I say, "dada is going to fix the sky?" yes, says mitchell, of course dad is going to fix the sky.  "actually, no, dada doesn't fix the sky.  The sun will rise tomorrow and make everything light" "dada fix it?" "heavenly father fixes it" "dada fix it!" "yeah, dada, sort of.  we're not thinking of the same person"
"DADA FIX IT!" "fine! dada will fix the sky"

and when the sun did rise up the next morning, an excited Mitchell exclaimed, "Oh!! Dada fixed it!!" 

So, when I tell Mike this story, he says, "well, of course he thinks I make the sun rise.  All children do.  And women."

not funny.

So as we're leaving on our date, Mike says to Mitchell, "dada and mama are going to go bye-bye.  And when it's time for bed, dada will make the sky go dark.  And in the morning I'll fix it!"

NOT FUNNY!

so, around here, it's pretty common knowledge that dad controls the movement of the earth.  men.

It's Party Time!

Oh my goodness, SO much has happened. 

Ali is, officially, nine months old (9!!) and Mitchell is, officially, three (3!!).  They're both so crazy wonderful, I'm still not sure how I lucked out being their mother.

A few weeks ago, I took Ali and Mitchell to our apartment complex's pool with a neighbor.  It was Ali's first time swimming, and I had bought her the cutest swimsuit and matching hat back in March.  But since I was mostly by myself, this is the only picture.  And she hates her hat, like most children I suppose, but unlike her brother, who is very much into hats at all times and weathers. 

And anyway, she loves the water, and hates her tube.... *sigh*  She doesn't even mind Mitchell splashing her with water till she's drenched.


In other news, we celebrated Independence Day by pigging out with my extended family, and watching fireworks, and playing outside.  Mitchell and Ali loved the fireworks, and I seem to get more nervous about them as the years pass.

We also had a big family reunion.  My mother conned me into dancing with her and my sisters and grandma.  Mike caught the whole thing on tape and has been threatening to facebook it- nothing short of blackmail.

And finally, Mitchell had a birthday.  The day before I said, "Mitchell! Are you having a birthday tomorrow!?"

"NOOO BIRTHDAY!" he wasn't in the best mood.  

Friday night we took him to the store and he picked out a chocolate cake, and triple chocolate ice cream.

We stopped on the way home at Zurchers, the local party store, because they have the best balloon selection ever.  Mitch and I ran in real quick while Ali and Dad stayed in the car.  Mike said "Do not let him pick out girly ones!" and was not too impressed when we came out with the blue/white polka-dot variety.  At least they're not purple, honey.

Saturday morning came and he didn't wake up at his usual 6am.  And I was awake waiting for him to wake up and finally at 8am, I convinced Mike to let me wake him up.  Mike says, "Dude. Calm down.  It isn't even your birthday"  I was awake all night SO EXCITED for his birthday.  Whatever.  Birthday's are the best.

Grandpa and Grandma Taylor got him a huge set of Legos.  We let him open it first, and he spent most of the day building trees and temples.  

Then we had cinnamon rolls for breakfast and Mitchell helped me bake his chocolate cake. Yum!

Then we took him to see Winnie-the-Pooh at Jordon Commons.  With Harry Potter defeating Voldemort, our theater was pretty empty and the movie was so cute we all laughed are little hearts out.  Mitchell drank all my diet coke and Mike decided Ali was old enough for his coke.  We are such awesome parents.  And Ali decided napping was for sissys and refused to take any sort of nap, (perhaps that was just the coke talking,) except when she conked out 5 mins before it ended.  Typical.

We came home and Grandma, Papa, Emma, and Madee came over to celebrate.  Mitchell was begging to eat his cake and open his presents and I kept telling him to "wait for grandma".  Mike finally took him to the park.

And then they all finally came over and Mitchell opened the door, then ran and opened his presents, all in a 5 minute window.  And when that was over, he exclaimed "Cake time!"  And we barely finished singing "happy birthday" by the time he had blown out his last candle.  I have never seen him so excited.  It was such a fun day. 

The day ended when Mike ditched us to go running and Mitchell and I played with his new tinkertoys for a good hour.  Building everything from microphones to the mickey mouse clubhouse to roller coasters.  The first rule of birthday presents is to only buy things you are willing to play with.  It's worked out quite nicely so far, we have a lot of fun.

And then we crashed.  And this morning  I could barely open my eyes for church, I was so exhausted.  So exhausted that when I rolled out of bed, and onto the couch, Mike tied a balloon around my toe  and I still did not wake up.

It is now 8:17, and I think I'll go to bed.  It's a good thing the next birthday is in October, I need time to recover.