second chances.

It has been so fun seeing so many beautiful Easter weekends spread all over the social media world. There are so many beautiful families out there, and we have had our share of beautiful Easters.

But this year was not one of them.

I digress. 

On Friday we were in Chicago at Baga's house with Grandma and Papa. It was a beautiful, albeit chilly evening, and we staged an Easter Egg hunt. Baga's backyard was perfect for a hunt for young kids, and they had all sorts of fun. They knew exactly what was in those eggs, so they were totally game. A squirrel knew exactly what was in the eggs too, and hacked a hole right through one of the eggs and spread the candy all over. But the rest were gathered by these eager cuties, and after a bit of candy we enjoyed Aurelio's pizza for dinner. It was a great evening.

We came home from Chicago late Saturday night, getting home after midnight. We knew, when choosing to go in the first place, that it would make for a late night and possibly a cranky Sunday.

Carly woke up first, and promptly pillaged all the baskets of whatever she wanted. I came down and explained that is not how it works. Barbie made her debut in the C house after extensive philosophical debates in my head, but I guess I didn't need to think too hard because, while the girls were initially excited, she hasn't been particularly popular.

Then the chaos began. We had all gotten up late. I made a carrot cake. We had a hectic breakfast. The kids were cranky. So so cranky. And you know what? I was too. And perhaps Chris was, or perhaps he was responding to everyone else's crankiness. We got ready for church in a flurry and spilled out the door for pictures that were totally unsuccessful. We were late, and missed singing He is Risen for the opening song. I love that song and it is only sung once a year. The kids were restless at church and I was sleepy. Afterwards, dinner preparations were all over the place and we didn't have any eggs left for deviled eggs. What!? I love deviled eggs on Easter.

Our one success of the day was the carrot cake. Oh, my, it was divine. It was my grandpa's recipe that I remember loving as a teenager. I made it gluten free, and did I already say it was divine? And that cream cheese frosting. I'd eat it out of a bowl with a spoon. So we had that going for us.

But that night, all I wanted was my kids in bed.

I got into bed and felt sad. This isn't what Easter is supposed to be like, I thought. Then, somehow, a thought occurred to me. Isn't this what Easter is really all about? Isn't it about how life is imperfect and things are hard and don't go as planned, but that it is ok? It is ok because of Him.

I know the Savior's sacrifice redeems severe sin and soothes deep aching. I've used it and I've witnessed it. But in my everyday life, it more often eases the stress of motherhood, brightens my perspective on a hard day, and helps be be better when I lose my patience and my weaknesses are beating my strengths. Easter, of all days, is about second and third and fourth chances.

So on Monday morning I turned up the Mormon Tabernacle Choir version of He is Risen and sang along while I unloaded the dishes. And boy, the Tab can rock that song. On Tuesday afternoon I ate Easter leftovers for lunch and made deviled eggs to go with it. And I cut myself a break and I tried a little bit harder to be a little bit better. And by Wednesday, we were all feeling quite happy.

Then I remembered something. On Thursday evening we had had a Family Home Evening lesson (we do FHE on whatever night daddy can be home early enough). I did those Easter eggs with the little items inside that tell the story of the crucifixion and the resurrection. To my surprise, all three kids became captivated (after being initially disappointed there wasn't candy in the eggs). When I opened the egg with the nail inside, Carly's face registered sadness. She knew what was coming next, and we spoke softly about Jesus being nailed to the cross. I pulled a white piece of fabric out of the next egg, describing how He was wrapped and place in a tomb. I pulled a rock out of the next egg, and we talked about how a big stone was placed in front of the tomb. I told them how three days passed, and I held the final egg. I opened it. "It's empty," Carly said. "Was Jesus in the tomb anymore?" I asked her. "No," she said. "He got resurrected." I showed John and Quinn and John said "Woah!" and Quinn said "Ooooo." And the Spirit was so strong. 

It was a sweet moment. A moment I forgot about in the hustle and bustle that was Easter Day, but a moment that matters more than deviled eggs and cute pictures. 

I'm grateful for this sweet family of mine.

I'm grateful for the chaos that people tell me I'll miss.

And this week, in particular, I'm grateful for second (and third and fourth) chances.

it's all real.

Things have been a little crazy up in here. We ended March and began April with three sick kids. We were in sub-zero lockdown all winter and managed to escape without getting sick at all. But the snotty, whiny, 2-week-long hacking cough caught us. And it wasn't that much fun. The sunshine came out, and we have been enjoying time outside. Finally! The breeze is still so chilly, but I actually felt warmth from the sun, and it was glorious.

About a week ago Carly got a rash. She scratched at it, and it got worse and worse until it appeared infected. Her doctor was out of the office until Monday, so we tried to persevere. We have had night after night of her waking up 2-3 times screaming in discomfort and pain. Days of laying around because she is hurting. The babies got stir crazy; the house fell apart. Did I mention Chris was finishing a chapter of his dissertation? He has been coming home to help with bedtime, then heading to the library until 1 and 2 am. I would get up with Carly in the middle of the night and find he wasn't home yet. It has been a hard and exhausting few days (has it only been a few days?).

I'm not about to number myself among the women who fight for their children's health day in and day out, but watching Carly hurt, and not know what it was or how to help, was torturous. Monday we made it to the doctor, and that night Chris gave her a priesthood blessing. She woke up 3 times that night, still in so much pain, but I knew it was going to get better. I had hope. She got to go to school today and was so excited, she ran off to class without giving Chris a hug. It has been a brief moment in time, but watching my daughter in pain has had me thinking a lot about a Son in pain a long time ago.

A few months ago there was a tragedy in my home ward. A father, mother, and two young teenage sons passed away in their home from carbon monoxide poisoning. Their two older children were serving full-time missions. I knew these wonderful people when I was a teenager. I looked up to them. I remember those boys being born. But it wasn't my loss. I hadn't seen them in many years. Still, I felt overwhelmed with sadness, as I mourned with those who mourn. But the sadness became nearly debilitating. I couldn't sleep. I woke in panic and fear. I just felt so sad. One night I could hardly take it. I couldn't sleep and I was downstairs. I knelt to pray. I prayed for the remaining family members. I prayed for my babies. And then I fell silent. I needed something. I didn't know what question I needed to ask, but I knew I needed whatever the answer was. After a long silence, words fell out of my mouth: "Just tell me it's all real." There was barely a pause before I heard, It is all real.

I was raised in a faith that taught me about eternal families and life after death and forever happiness. And I never doubted, not for a second. But now I have these little people I would give anything for, a husband I cherish, family I live too far away from and don't get to be with nearly enough, and a realization that life moves much too quickly. Here I was, 27 years old and suddenly eternal families meant everything and mortality felt like it was staring me in the face. I didn't have doubt, I just desperately needed reassurance. How very grateful I am for a loving Heavenly Father who will provide reassurances, and for a Savior who made my forever family possible.

It is Easter time. In our chaos, we haven't dyed a single egg or made a single craft. Thank goodness grandmas send Easter packages, or we'd have some empty baskets. But I have been thinking about the Savior. I have been thinking about the peace that comes from faith in Him. I have been thinking about the comfort that comes from faith in Him. And I have been thinking about the joy that comes from faith in Him.

I'm grateful He lived.
I'm grateful He died.
I'm grateful He lives again.

And I'm so very grateful it's all real.

march madness.

I have to say, I'm fading fast. I have been so chipper and on top of things this winter, but no longer. I grew up in Idaho, and have lived in Michigan for 4 years, so I know spring doesn't show up in March and stay. No, there are warm sunny days, and then a surprise snowfall and a chill, and then warm sunny days. But you see, that is not happening. It is just freezing cold. All the time. The snow actually finally melted. We can see our grass! But daily highs are still below freezing and it has been so windy. So miserable. So while I know spring comes with it's glitches, I would just like to actually see a single day where the sun is warm. And then several more after that. Until then, I'll continue to self-medicate with high doses of sugar.

But we hold on. We had a fun simple St Patrick's Day. If you want to confuse and aggravate a couple of 2-year-olds, just start their day with a leprechaun treasure hunt. They were so not thrilled with it. We ate green food and corned beef and cabbage. It was a really cold day (surprise!) so we just played inside all day. Simple but good. Our current life theme.

My kids are cute. John's new thing is screaming "I did it!" whenever he does something. Its ridiculous in the best way. He really likes to do things himself: buckle his carseat, wash himself in the bath, put on his boots. Its really great when you like things to take 4 times as long as they should. He screams and runs to me whenever he gets red marker on his hands (which is a lot, he's not the most skilled artist). I couldn't figure it out until tonight I realized . . . I'm pretty sure he thinks it is blood. The kid really is just all over the place. The speech therapist came and called him "animated." They must get training to use polite diction because that is the most perfect word for him. Chris cut his hair and now his ears stick out all the more and I just want to eat him up.

Quinn says "no" with a French accent. She wears sunglasses 80% of the time and glass slippers 70% of the time (I often put her down wearing both). She has this little toy Minnie she loves and is constantly obsessing over which bow the Minnie should wear and which dress. She loves the concept of mama and baby, so she will pick out a large and small object (like a large rock and a small rock) and that will be the mama and baby. She also cares for her baby and is the most stressed out little mother I've ever seen. So that should bode well in the long run. She calls rocks "woah" because every time John or Carly throws a rock I say "woah!"  I've been teaching them both shapes and colors with mixed results (aka, Quinn is all over it, while John drives his trucks around). They are so fun.

Carly currently loves holding tea parties (where we drink "chocolate milk"). Today at the library she picked out a book about space and one about tornadoes. I told her all about tornadoes and tornado chasers and I think she is 70% fascinated 30% terrified. She has really been excelling at school. Every day I pick her up every kid in the line gives her a hug. We had parent teacher conference and her teacher said she has totally blossomed and is doing so great.  She is so smart. She and Chris read the picture scriptures every day and the other day she walked in and heard me listening to the New Testament. She heard the word "kill" and I ended up explaining to her that not everyone it the scriptures is nice. "Yeah," she said, "like Nehor."  I can't decide if she is tiny or huge. I suppose she is somewhere in between.

On Saturday we had a "favorite things" day. We went to a local place that sells big machinery (so appropriately called "the digger store" by me) so we could get a good look at some excavators and backhoe loaders. You'd think John had set foot in Disneyland. Then we headed to the Human Society so Quinn could pet some kitties and bark with the dogs. The cat room was totally terrifying, I will say. Nothing like being surrounded by perched cats. Carly took the opportunity to fall in love with a little white pit mix named Miss Piggie and left in tears over her. Because a dog is exactly what we need right now (or ever). We watched Carly's favorite movie (can you guess) and I ended the night with my all-time favorite guy watching my all time favorite show (The West Wing). All Saturdays should be so good (if they have to be so cold).

This March is leading to near madness. The sun will come. I know it will. And it will be so bright and warm and wonderful. It will come. It will come. It will come. Until then, we'll embrace the madness, embrace each other, and keep partying on.

xoxo.

marching right along.

This past week was "Spring Break", which I guess is a thing. We went to BYU, where there is no spring break, and Chris has since done 6 busy years of graduate school, so we've never really had a spring break to enjoy. What can you do? We joked that at least he is going to be a professor so maybe he'll get a spring break . . . after he gets tenure. Cheers! He did come home at lunch on Friday, and temps climbed above 40, so we headed out to the zoo. It was a beautiful afternoon and it felt incredible to be outside in the sunshine doing something fun. I have to admit, these lingering weeks of winter have been wearing on me. I don't usually get too upset by winter, but this winter has been totally cray. Maybe we are seeing signs of the end, but the foot and a half of snow lingering outside is going to take many 40 degree days to melt.

[Zoo day; waving to friendly Mr. Lion who only had eyes for meaty John; hand-in-hand; 

daddy giving John a good view of the passing train, because that is why you go to the zoo.]

We had a nice weekend. Carly went roller skating with a friend, I got a haircut and went to the gym, we went out to Mexican for dinner (I don't think we'll be able to feed all 5 of us for $20 for much longer. Bummer.), and Chris and I watched Catching Fire while consuming a pint of Chunky Monkey. Yesterday church was canceled because of a gas leak in the building. We had a lesson at home about thinking good thoughts. We made a little "head" by sticking eyes, ears, mouth, and a nose on a vase. Then I had strips of paper with bad or good thoughts written on them. I would read them out, and Carly would have to say if the thought should go in the head or in the garbage. It was good. Then we watched The Restoration, our current favorite Sunday movie. We went for a walk outside and ate pancakes for dinner. This life of ours is so very simple, but so very good.

We've got a good thing going. I have found myself really embracing this phase. Life feels a little bit more doable, and I think when spring comes and I can release them into the wild, things will be even better. I love their growing independence; I love that we can have so much fun with [relatively] less complication. We've got a routine down, we are out of that completely crazy two babies phase, and even though 2 toddlers will drive you up the wall, they are so so fun. I mean, they are really great kids. Every night before bed we sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Quinn has got the rhythm down and sings along. John is completely off, but sings random sounds along anyway, and it cracks us up. Carly is getting so big. She has a quality sense of humor, but just enough sweetness and blonde airhead to really be the frosting on the cake. We were watching Finding Faith in Christ one Sunday (1:00 church has driven us to more church movies, that is for sure) and Carly saw all the language options. She wanted to watch it in German, and Chris was translating as it went. "I didn't know Jesus could speak German!" she exclaimed. She is a constant delight.

[John's a simple man, Quinn a complicated woman, when it comes to crib company.]

[Life is good when you're the Czarina.]

I have been sugar and tv binging my little heart out. I seriously don't even know what is going on, but I don't really worry myself over it. YOLO, right? ha! Really it started with the Olympics. Oh, I love the Olympics. Tears and goosebumps and screaming at the tv for two weeks. You just can't beat it. I have to admit, I was kind of relieved to get my life back when they ended. The great irony of the Olympics is I would sit on the couch for 4 hours eating sweets watching world class athletes do their thing. And after it ended, the habit just kept on going. Few things relax me more than curling up on the couch under a blanket eating something sweet and watching television. I need to cut back . . . I promise I will when the weather gets better. Yep. In my defense I have been eating healthier besides the sugar, and cooking healthier for our family. It is going somewhat well, besides that one time the twins gagged their food out and Carly quite literally threw up all over her plate because the food grossed them out. You win some, you lose some. C'est la vie.

[Along with extensive Olympic watching and cookie making, we also held FHE Olympics. Luge in pillowcases down the stairs, daddy as the skeleton sled, and pillow sack races (naturally). We had three happy gold medalists as we listened to the Star-Spangled Banner.]

Chris's dissertation is chugging along. He is running all over the place getting his data collected and spending a strange amount of time on Facebook coordinating his undergrads' schedule. The man never gets on Facebook, so I was very confused at why I kept seeing it pulled up on the computer. "That is how these people communicate," he informed me. We have already had lots of little tender mercies occur during the process, like his IRB going through surprisingly fast and me getting home just in time to find the UPS man on the doorstep with an important package for me to sign for. Things remain stressful, and will only get worse before it gets better, but I'm so proud of him. He is my very favorite person, and I am glad he is the one sitting next to me watching Scandal and pretending to be disinterested even though he wants to know what he missed in episodes I watch without him (just saying). I wouldn't want anyone else.

The sun is starting to shine, and we just keep marching right along.

xoxo.

[Above freezing out, so naturally we're eating snow slushies.]

two turn two.

I have no idea how we got here already, and I have no idea how it took so long to get here, but here we are. Quinn and John turned two on the 25th. We celebrated the big day with a little family fun, because that is what we like to do best.

We picked Carly up from school and headed to a local bowling alley. Luckily, the bowling crowd is pretty sparse on Tuesday mornings, so we had the place almost to ourselves. It should come as no surprise that John loved bowling. A big heavy ball going down a ramp and knocking a bunch of things down? What else could a little boy want? Quinn's interest was quite the opposite. The one time we got her to participate she came and quite literally poked the ball with a single finger to get it to go down the ramp. She enjoyed walking up and down the stairs, snacks, and cheering on her more passionate siblings. Carly would send the ball down the lane, and as it crawled ever so slowly toward the pins, whisper, "Please please please please." It was a fun time had by all, even if we only made it through 6 rounds.

We headed home for lunch, candles and cakes, and presents. The cakes perfectly fit the little gender stereotypes they both are. Quinn's was a little pale pink cake topped with gold star sprinkles. John's was a chocolate construction site with his beloved "dig dig" doing its thing. True to form, Quinn wanted to eat unlimited cake, while John really just wanted his digger back. We sang the birthday song twice and blew out candles (with a little help from big sis). We kept presents limited, but a few favorites included a pair of glass slippers for a petite princess, and Thomas the Trains in two sizes for his biggest little fan.

[I absolutely adore this picture. I have been trying to teach them to hold up two fingers, with obvious success.]

So now we have two two-year-olds and the party is already beginning. They scream at each other and fight over things ("mine!" is the most frequent word spoken by either) but they also have an immense love for one another. The other day John was laying on the couch not feeling well, and Quinn brought him his Thomas to play with. One act of love of the countless I witness between these two. They have also started being sneaky together. One evening I was making dinner and kept peeking out to see them playing together in the corner. I thought it was so cute, until I realized they had grabbed by iPad and were probably hiding in the corner where I couldn't see they had it. Stinkers. They certainly have a sweet, and humorous, relationship.

As for "Baby A"? Two years later she is a tiny quiet girl that holds a whole lot of opinion and personality. Quinn loves accessories. Sunglasses, hats, headbands, shoes, necklaces, bracelets, sleeve tattoos made of stickers . . . you name it. She has a STRONG opinion on what she wears, especially her shoes. She always has something unique going on, and I just go with it because how do you not? I have put her down for many naps wearing knit hats, fancy shoes, or even sunglasses. Carly recently showed her how to put her hands in her pockets, and now she can often be spotted that way, which is unbearably cute.

Quinn loves princesses and Minnie mouse. She loves her two blankets. She will lay on the ground with them and roll around until they are wrapped all around her. She loves sweet treats especially, but really she's pretty good about eating most food. She loves books. When we look at books she likes to pick out "me" on every page. It will be a page of butterflies and she'll pick out which one she likes best and say "me". A page with a mommy elephant and baby elephant, she'll point to the baby and say "me!". Its so funny, and it is actually interesting to see what she will pick to represent her. It is usually the smallest and/or cutest thing. She continues to be quite the little mama's girl, and I can't say I mind most of the time. She likes me to watch her or follow her requests, and if I don't she'll frantically say "Mama . . . Mama . . . Mama! Mama!" I mean, she'll do this if she's sitting on my lap and I don't respond to her fast enough. But mostly she's sweet as sugar, giving kisses and hugs and smiles. She has also started asking "Why?" A habit I think she got from her big sister.

Quinn is quiet. She has a soft sweet voice, and talks a lot in "Quinnish" as we have come to call it. But her English vocabulary is somewhat limited. A few words I can think of: mine, mama, dada, John Boy, Sissy, juice, sit, chair, chapstick, "pretty" (princess), Minnie/Mickey, shoe, mittens, bubbles, more, please, thank you, and all sorts of sounds. She just started putting two words together, like "more please".

Chris and I often joke that Quinn is our favorite. That is not true, of course, as we love all of our children equally. But she certainly does have us wrapped around her fancy little fingers. 

John is simultaneously a cranky little pain, a sweet little gentleman, and a rough little bruiser. He continues to be generally high-maintenance, though he is finally showing a bit of improvement. He still spends too much time screaming, but it is more bearable now than it was even a few months ago. 

He is incredibly sweet though. We were on a walk in the snow once and Quinn went up on someone else's doorstep. She cried that she wanted help back down, but I told her she could do it on her own. She stood there whining, so John turned around and walked back to her. He held out his little hand and helped her down the stair. It was the sweetest. Another time he dropped his water cup at night time. He was yelling "water! water!" so I snuck in in the dark and handed it to him quietly. It was quiet for a few seconds as he drank, then I heard him yell, "Tank tu, mama!" I couldn't help but laugh. He loves sitting on laps and looking at truck books. He loves, loves, loves Carly. He really just thinks she is the bees knees. When we drop her off at school, he always cries for her, and he is so happy when we go to pick her up. The two of them play so cute together, making each other laugh and doing silly things (Q is more of a finesse player). John will watch Carly and say "sissy! woah, sissy!" because she does such cool things. He really is so sweet.

And he is definitely "all boy". His very favorite thing is wrestling with daddy. He loves roaring. He loves balls. He LOVES any type of vehicle. I thought that was just something people said about boys, that they love planes, trains, and automobiles. But nope, it is real. This boy in a house full of princesses and rainbows loves vehicles. Tonight at dinner he was pretending his bread was a truck. He likes to dig in the snow, jump off things, knock things over, and hit things with sticks. I can't wait until spring comes (assuming it ever does), because this boy belongs in the wilderness.

John is a little more vocal than his sister, but not by much. His vocabulary is pretty similar. He does say "helicopter" and "orange", both of which come out as a hilarious series of gurgles. So naturally I ask him to say either as frequently as possible.

John is quite the little piece to our family puzzle. We wouldn't be complete without "Baby B". We love him like crazy.

We went to their two-year check-up on Thursday. John is 29 lbs 12 oz, 36 inches tall. Quinn is 25 lbs 4 oz, 34 inches tall. John is noticeably bigger than her, but the height gap is closing. They both hit growth spurts over the last 6 months moving up in height percentiles especially. I can tell because they have both started eating like full-blown humans, and the sudden shift to feeding 5 people means food flies off our shelves (in fact, lately they have both been out-eating Carly). They are both delayed in speech though. Their doctor said it didn't seem too bad, but he referred us to get an at-home speech evaluation so if any intervention is needed it will happen early and therefore hopefully be less than if we waited. I am not too worried about it. They are behind, I have always known that, but they are both very smart. It will come. I am endlessly grateful for their health and general perfection.

So now we enter a world with two two-year-olds. I remember reading a blog when the twins were very little. It was a mother of triplets who were 3, and people would ask her if it was easier now that they were older. She always wanted to say "No, its not easier, I have three three-year-olds! Its just hard in a different way." I feel that way a lot. It is not "easier", it is just hard in a different way. But I will say, I will take this hard over the newborn hard (knock on wood). Two-year-old hard also comes with two-year-old fun, and these two sure are fun.

When I was in my early days of their pregnancy, before I found out there were two, I wrote a post about being sick. As my head hung over the toilet, I got the most distinct feeling that "Deux was someone special," as I wrote. What a sweet thing to go back and read now. I think Heavenly Father was letting me know something out of the ordinary was happening, and He was right.

These two are certainly something special.

Happy two years, Q and J. We're glad you joined us.

four and a half year old Carly.

Carly reached four and a half on the tenth. Honestly, its been the longest winter in history, so her birthday feels like ages ago. There is a lot to remember about four-and-a-half-year-old Carly, so let's just dive right in.

Carly has always asked a lot of questions, and lately they are getting more intense. She is really trying to get to the bottom of things. One Sunday it was pretty clear she had learned about the Plan of Salvation. She was talking about Lucifer and how he wanted to take away our choices and how he wanted to be in charge. So we talked about how Jesus wanted us to keep our right to make choices, and that is why it is important to make good choices. She went on and on, and it was bedtime, so we told her it was time for bedtime prayers. "But I want to keep talking about Lucifer!" she whined. Never expected my daughter to say that! She's also particularly interested in our spirits, what they look like, if you can touch them, where they go when we die and get resurrected. "I thought my spirit was just like a tiny circle inside of me," she said. She looked amazed to hear that her spirit looked just like her. We've had some wonderful conversations.

The flip side of this is song lyrics. Normal people just listen to music, Carly listens to the words and wants to understand the story. It makes me extra conscious of the music I listen to, that is for sure. A break-up country song came on the radio: "Why are they sad?" she asked. "Because they have to say goodbye, and they won't see each other for a long time," I answered, dancing around the notion of a romantic break-up. "Well, they could always FaceTime," she answered. Ha! We like to listen to Les Mis songs too (the babies love them, they break out into a round of applause after each song), and she is constantly asking who is singing to who and what is going on. I find myself trying to turn a very adult tale into a child friendly story: "Well, Marius and Cosette love each other, and Eponine is their . . . friend. And the school boys are fighting . . . and the daddy wants to keep Cosette safe . . . and the police man thought the daddy was bad but he's really not."  During Javier's Suicide, she said "This sounds sad.What is happening?" Serenity now.

Other lines of questioning involve what in this life is real and what is pretend (I may have told her mermaids are "kind of real" . . . I couldn't crush that one) and how babies get out of mommies ("Mommies have a special hole where babies come out." "Is it in your back?" "Kind of."). Needless to say, I feel like I am explaining things, hard things, all day long. But moms are supposed to be fountains of knowledge, right?

Carly is what I like to call a "type-A queen bee." This can be good at times. She is, for the most part, great with John and Quinn. They adore her, and she is good at organizing how they play and caring for them when they need help. She is an amazingly fun big sister. But this also means she's got the biggest pair of bossy pants you've ever seen. I'm pretty sure she thinks she holds the same position as me in the home, except I have to do all the cleaning. One day she asked, "If a big girl has a baby brother and baby sister, does that mean she is the boss of them?" Just hypothetically speaking, of course. I laughed and told her, "Nope, that just means she has to be helpful and play nicely with them." She wasn't thrilled with my answer.  

Carly loves board and card games. We broke out the old Uno cards and now it is one of our favorite activities during naptime. It has been interesting to watch her figure it out. At first she would use a wild and pick any color she wanted, but I've been watching her become more strategic, use certain cards at certain times. I try to play fair and square so sometimes she wins and sometimes I win, but lately she has been genuinely beating me when I am trying to win. It is impressive. We also love Sorry, Hi-Ho Cherrio, Go Fish, and Guess Who.

[cavegirl Carly]

Carly also loves playing pretend. She loves dressing up and acting things out, though that type-A personality can get pushy and she often tries to control exactly what her playmates are doing. We got her Frozen toys for Christmas, and she would much rather be Elsa and act stories out herself than play with the dolls. She also likes pretending to be a caveman, a veterinarian, and a pirate looking for treasure.

Carly doesn't like the crust on her sandwiches. How does one suddenly figure that out? She likes to wear shorts and short sleeves at home, with the understanding that she has to put pants on when we leave the house. As she has been since the day she was born, she is terribly impatient. I know all kids are, but she asks for "a really really cold drink of water" and you don't even have time to respond before she starts with "mom mom mom mom." We need to work on it, but I'm not sure how. She still really likes school, and has made some really sweet friends. The other day I was picking her up and found her huddled with two other little girls giggling. Not sure when she turned 10.

Speaking of school, the fate of Carly's entire growing-up years is resting on my shoulders right now and it is stressing me out. (A bit melodramatic, perhaps?) But for reals, Carly is an August birthday (DON'T have a kid in August), and I have been wrestling with what to do in terms of Kindergarten. According to the cut-off date in Pullman, Carly is old enough to go to Kindergarten by 21 days. If we put her in this year, she would be barely 5, she wouldn't turn 16 (driving and dating) until her junior year, and she would turn 18 right when she started college (the single perk I can think to this is she could get a whole year of college before going on a mission. haha!). Now, it is tempting to think to just focus on right now, but you can't as a parent. You have to think of the big picture. But even considering Carly right now, I'm not sure she's ready. Well, she is ready for Kindergarten, but then 1st grade? A few weeks ago, we walked out of Carly's school and she looked sad. I asked her what was wrong: "We were supposed to find all the lower case letters, but I could only find the big ones," she told me sadly. Another time she sadly informed me, "All the other kids' letters look better than mine." The kids in her class are mostly 5 and soon to turn 5. She is a smart smart girl. She is really bright. She picks things up quickly. But she's a year to a half a year younger than her classmates. Of course she isn't going to be where they are. I have heard endless anecdotes. Pretty much nobody waiting a year has regretted it. Many people put them in young and they do fine. I've also heard of putting them in young, and the kids struggle for a few years but then catch up. I guess I just feel why not wait? Why not give her every advantage? I am inclined to do just that, but the great predicament is making the year of waiting worthwhile and productive. I've been trying to look into preschools long distance. A few I found said they couldn't be 5 yet. Another tough thing is Pullman Kindergarten is half-day, and I honestly think Carly would adore half-day Kindergarten. It is full-day in Michigan, and if we were staying here there would be no question. But being removed from Pullman and the idea of half-day Kindergarten (for free!) has made the whole thing harder. And I know it is totally dependent on the kid and the situation, but I am hoping the perfect situation turns up for her. I know she will be successful regardless, because she is just that fabulous. I just want to do everything right by her. We'll be seeking some divine guidance on this one, though if God were imperfect He would surely be weary of my prayers concerning our move.

Carly has a heart of gold. She always has. She reads stories to the babies, she wrestles John, she tenderly plays with Quinn (the perk of twin sibs is you get the rough-house brother AND the princess sister). She loves her daddy. Those two have a special relationship and they always have, since she was a newborn and he was the only one who could calm her down. She is sweet. We were watching Olympic cross-country skiing the other day, and a racer fell just before the finish line in the front pack. We watched the winners celebrate, then she says, "But I just feel so bad for the man that fell."

Carly is such a kid these days, I can't believe she was once my tiny baby and once my chatty toddler. She has brought so much joy these four and a half years. I'm so glad she was sent to us.

love day.

In keeping with my year of simplicity, we kept Valentine's pretty low key this year. Last year it was quite the event, and I think it is easy for me to get carried away. This year I pretty much just completely avoided Pinterest. On Wednesday we enjoyed our annual Valentine's cookie decorating playgroup. On Thursday Carly had her school party. They sang a cute little song about love and had food and played Bingo. She has a sweet little friend (who is a boy) who always gives her big hugs and says "I'll miss you!" when I pick her up from school. We were putting her Valentines together and she said "J* loves me." I paused. "He loves you?" "Yeah, he likes to play with me a lot." Ok, 4-year-old friendship love I can appreciate. "Good," I told her, "It is fun to have nice friends." That afternoon we made a super sugary Valentine treat mix and watched a movie (Carly's first Redbox: "That's pretty cool how it just makes the movie!").

[What a perk to be born with a built-in Valentine.]

Valentine's Day arrived. The kids woke up to new books, and we indulged on Nutella strawberry pancakes (but don't you worry, the kids' were whole wheat). We played in the snow and painted and played in our basement playroom. A sweet and fun and very normal day. We enjoyed a fancy dinner of Cottage Inn pizza on paper plates in the candlelight. We kissed our sweet Valentines goodnight, and ate Dairy Dan's ice cream and watched the Walking Dead (so romantic!). It was a most lovely day.

Chris and I have never been real Valentine's people. We prefer to celebrate our anniversary, a day special and unique to us and without the insane crowds. But, like every holiday, Valentine's sure can be fun with kids. We had a Family Home Evening where we wrote things we love about each other on hearts. It is sweet to see my kids love for each other, and I hope they always see the love between me and their daddy. Because even though we aren't Valentine's people, I sure do love my man. Nearly 8 years later, I still feel a thrill when he walks in the door (and not because it means I have someone to help with the kids, though that is nice too). 

Somehow, a tradition of photo Valentines to our families has stuck. This year's idea was my brain child, and I dare say it turned out pretty cute. Though, the bloopers are my favorite. I kid you not, I took exactly one picture of John by himself. He sat down, held his list up perfectly, and gave the most adorable smile. In the end I realized I wouldn't get all three of them holding their lists and smiling, so yay for picture collages.

The final product:

I certainly love my four people.

It was a sweet and simple celebration.

xoxo.