Reminiscing

Have you visited this post lately?  Hilarious!  For some reason I was reminiscing this morning, and went back to find it.  And yup, it's still funny.

Gardening

I know, I know, I know.  I haven't posted in forever, and so I really ought to be posting something about my family, my baby that's 9 months old already, or some of the events that have transpired in the last months.  But all of that sounds like a lot of work.  Plus, we've had some computer issues that make me unable to post pictures.  And how can I post about my kids without including pictures?  So, instead of news on the family, you get some random thoughts. :)

I've gotten suddenly excited about gardening.  This spring I really didn't care about the flower bed, and never did anything with it.  But now that it's the middle of September, I'm all ready to go.  I've bought some perennials and I'm working on cleaning the grass out of the flower bed so I can plant them.  I also have plans for the garden.  I'm going to plant my seeds this fall so that the plants can start growing whenever they feel like in the spring.  I"m not going to plant them in rows, either.  I'm just going to toss them out there and they can grow wherever they choose.  Jef thinks I'm crazy.  But it can't really be any worse than this year's garden, which was planted on schedule in the spring in neat rows, but which seeds either never grew at all or died soon after emerging.  We did get a few tomatoes and some zucchini, but that's about it.  So, really, how much worse can it get by letting the plants choose their own spot and growing time?  Sounds like fun to me.

Rock Beats Scissors

My kids have been quite into playing Rock Paper Scissors lately.  The only thing is, the old game got a little boring, so they've made up some new rules.  I don't know all the rules, but I have picked up a few.  So, in case you want to play, here's what I can tell you.

Dynamite beats Rock
Gun beats Paper
Crocodile beats Scissors
Shield beats Gun
Robot beats Shield
Chuck Norris beats Crocodile
Death Star beats Chuck Norris
Luke Skywalker beats Death Star
Darth Vader beats Luke Skywalker
Emperor beats Darth Vader
Harry Potter beats Emperor

I'll keep you posted if the rules change some more. :)

Little Boy Adventures

At the end of February, Cannon turned eight.  Eight must be a pretty important age, because it hasn't even been a month yet, and he's already had lots of adventures.
He got a pogo stick for his birthday, and I was sure he'd have a broken arm within a week, but so far so good.  He can stay on it for hundreds of hops in a row, and it's basically the perfect toy for my little jumping bean.

Turning eight means, of course, that he got baptized! Jef was able to baptize and confirm him, and when we asked Cannon afterwards how he felt, he said he felt taller.  That's a good thing, because the poor kid is awfully short for his age. He got to share his baptism with his super good friend, Cadie, from around the corner.  We were planning on attending her baptism anyway, so it was very convenient to have them on the same day.

The night before Cannon's baptism, I was giving some long overdue haircuts, and so the boys both had their shirts off.  They were thinking they were pretty hot stuff.  I was trying not to laugh. I'm sure someday they will both have impressive muscles, and this picture of Cannon's ribs will be a hoot.  What am I saying?  It's already a hoot!

We have been having such beautiful weather, that I bought some cheap kites at Wal-Mart and took my kids over to the elementary to fly them.  They thought it was so cool, and most of them couldn't remember ever flying a kite before.  (Guilt, guilt, guilt...  how are you supposed to keep track of all the experiences your children are supposed to have?  I should make a list.) 

Anyway, Cannon thought flying a kite was a breeze.  He even flew his kite for a time while lying down.  I guess it's easier to see your kite that way - easier on the neck, you know.



The weather has been so nice, in fact, that Cannon and Jennie were convinced they were going to melt the other day, and nothing would do but to take a run through the sprinklers.  In March?  But somehow they were able to talk their mother into it, and they were mercifully saved from melting to death.

They didn't even turn blue afterward, and Cannon was still begging for more when the sprinklers turned off.

And, of course, if you're eight that means you're in Cub Scouts.  And if you're in Cub Scouts, that means you get to go to the Pinewood Derby. 

Cannon's car did awesome! (Even if it didn't have a professional looking, obviously-not-done-by-an-eight-year-old paint job.)  He won first place in the Wolves (his age division), and 2nd place overall.  So he came home with a ribbon, a medal, and a trophy.  Being eight rocks!!!

One of the experiences Cannon has definitely not missed is milking a cow. My parents have a milk cow, so my dad is always looking for volunteers to do the milking. And Cannon is always happy to volunteer! He's getting pretty good at it, too!
So there's one month in the life of an eight-year-old.  You can imagine what it requires to keep up with the kid.  (Picture me out of breath, running up to every event with my camera.)  Here's hoping the next eleven months will be a little quieter.  (I'm not counting on it, but I can always hope.)

Ann Marie

Well, my policy on journals and blogs has always been that you shouldn't try to catch up.  Just write/blog about what's happening now, and let the rest go.  So you'll have to trust me that we had a great Thanksgiving, a great Christmas, and great New Years.  Oh, and my brother left on his mission - and he's flying to Hungary TODAY!!!  Go Tom!
But it does seem wrong to just skip over the birth of my seventh child, so I'll bend my rule just this once. ;)
The Dr. was perfectly willing to start my labor for me.  In fact, because my last delivery went so fast (about 20 minutes), he made sure I was willing to be started at 39 weeks before he even took out my IUD.  I assured him that was fine with me, he took it out, and a couple weeks later we were expecting!  Honestly, I wasn't expecting it to happen quite that fast, and it put us in a quandary about the delivery day. See, I would arrive at 39 weeks on Nov 28th.  But we already have a birthday on that day.  There's another birthday on the 30th.  (Not sure why we're so fond of the end of November.)  We could have just waited until a couple days into December, but Tom was going into the MTC on the 30th, and it seemed a shame to make him wait two years before seeing the baby.  So that left us with the 29th.  I wasn't ecstatic about the idea of celebrating birthdays three days in a row every year, but neither Jef nor the Dr. saw any problem with it.  (Men!)
So the baby was scheduled to arrive on the 29th.  Skip past a couple months of morning sickness, several months of feeling not-too-bad, and a couple months of constant discomfort, and we arrive at the delivery day!  Crazy to say, but I was quite nervous.  Not nervous for the delivery.  Been there, done that.  But the last time I was in the hospital, I ended up losing all my hair and several months of my life.  It took quite a while to get back into my life again, and I was just not excited about starting over again.  I realize it was completely illogical to be afraid that would happen.  I would be home within a day or two, and other than being tired and sore, I would be fine and life would continue on as normal. (Or, rather, normal plus a baby.)  But as the time drew nearer, I kept catching myself preparing my house for several weeks of my absence.  Kept telling myself that wasn't necessary, but sometimes self just doesn't listen.  So I arrived at the day basically scared to death for no good reason at all. (I don't remember being scared at all to go into brain surgery, but this wouldn't be the first time I didn't make any sense.)
Each time I have a child, I manage to cut my delivery time in half.  I started out at 9 hours with the first one, then 4, then 2, then 1, and so on, til I got it down to 20 minutes.  (No, it doesn't actually work out mathematically, but you get the idea.)  So I was thinking this time it would take around 10 minutes.  Sounds good, right?  But, of course, just when you think you have life figured out, it sends you a curve ball.  This child was posterior, and required not ten minutes, but three hours of delivery time.  Three hours?  Seemed like forever.  I know, I know, it's not really that long, but in comparison...  Plus I had to do some real pushing.  Real pushing?  I hadn't had to do that for the last several children.  I had graduated past all that nonsense!  But I pushed anyway, and she eventually made her entrance.  Now, we hadn't found out the gender of this child beforehand, but I was really really really really really really really really hoping for a boy.  Really.  So when she came out a girl...   Well, I was a little dismayed.  It didn't last long, though.  How can you hold a newborn infant and not fall in love immediately? 

We didn't have a name (because she was supposed to be a boy.)  So it was almost 24 hours before she had a name of her own.  Jef wanted to name her Carianne (not sure how we would've spelled it) but I didn't think she looked like a Carianne. (Caryann? Carrie-Ann?)  I didn't have any ideas of my own, though, so we were at an impasse.  (If she would have been a boy, I would've had LOTS of suggestions.)  So finally my parents came to visit us in the hospital, and they came up with Ann Marie. (Like the little girl on All Dogs Go to Heaven) (Even though I don't even like that movie.  But the little girl is cute.)  I wasn't so sure, since Ann Anderson sounds like you're stuttering.  But Ann-Marie Anderson doesn't sound too bad.  And we could call her Annie for short.  That clinched it for me. I've always wanted an Annie.  I was still not sure that Annie Anderson didn't sound silly, but everyone assured me it didn't, so we did it.  I still cringe when anyone calls her Ann.  Not that I don't like the name, I just don't want it to stick and have her end up as Ann Anderson.  She would hate us!  She'd end up getting married at 15 just to have a last name that doesn't start with An.  And yes, we could have named her Carianne and still called her Annie.  sigh.
But she's here, she's named, I didn't have to lose months of my life, and everyone is doing great.

Halloween

 Halloween again!  Seems like it just keeps coming around.  Not that I had a bad attitude about it this year.  I was actually ok with it, and willing to put some effort into my kids' costumes.  Only problem was, none of them could decide what they wanted to be.  (Decision-making is not one of our better skills - at least not amongst my children.)  Jennie finally decided that she wanted to be Katara.  (Ever watched any Avatar the Last Airbender cartoons?  Jennie watches tons, and she knows every detail.  So when she says that she wants to be Katara, that means an exact replica.  I was pretty much in a lot of trouble.)  But when we went and found the dress-up box to see if there was anything helpful, she took one look at all that floof and sparkle, and decided she wanted to be a princess (Thank heaven!). 

 Lydia was set on being a bunny, and she actually went to preschool dressed as a bunny, but when Jennie switched to a princess...  Well, who wouldn't want to be a princess?  I decided that Cannon should be a ninja, and he was ok with that.  Ben would have loved a more involved costume, but he wouldn't decide on anything until the last minute, and they just don't sell pre-teen costumes.  So he was a quarterback.  Get it?  It was the easiest costume ever, and actually fits his sarcastic personality quite well.

Robyn was a cowgirl, and Emily was a nerd.  Too bad I didn't get a better picture of Emily's costume.  She did a good job of putting it together - high pants, suspenders, patterned socks, and tape on the glasses.
The three "big kids" all went trick-or-treating with friends, so we just had to take the younger set.  It was actually quite pleasant.  I told them we could keep going until someone started crying, so they were trying to be on their best behavior.  When I finally announced that this was the last stop, they objected, and said, "But nobody's crying!"  I said, "But I'm about to cry."  (I really was.  My feet were killing me.)  They didn't think that should count, but they had enough candy to keep them hysterical for a week, and we all went home happy.

If I Only Had a Brain

This pregnancy has definitely been an interesting experience for me.  It has made me realize how old I am.  It amazes me that the trend in the world is to start having kids at about 30, because it's right about then that it gets so much harder.  Even the last one, which I delivered at 29, was so so much easier than this one.  (That may also be because this is my seventh pregnancy, and my body is just plain wearing out.)  Whatever the reason, this pregnancy has not been my favorite.  I've only got one month to go, and I'm sure looking forward to having a few things back that I've been missing.  Of all the things I'm missing  ( my waist, my ankles...)  my brain is the thing I miss the most.  It has been on vacation for a few months now, and I'm hoping it will come back to visit for the holidays.
Yesterday Jef and I decided to go the temple, (thanks for the inspiration, Janna), but I had to go to the store first so the kids would have something to eat for dinner while we were gone.  (Not that they ate any of it. I don't think they ever left the couch.  They were all starving when we got home.  Grrrr.  But that's a gripe for another post.)  So I went to the store, got what I needed, took it out to the car, put my shopping cart in the corral, and drove away....   with my purse still in the cart.  I noticed as soon as I got home, which was only two blocks away.  So I hurried back to the store and checked my cart, but of course my purse was gone.  I went in on the off chance that someone had turned it in, and they had!!!  I am so very grateful for honest people today.
So I hurried home and we left for the temple.  But my adventures had taken too long, and we were going to miss the session.  So we decided to go get a hamburger and catch the next one.  We did finally make it to a session, and it was great.  But after we got back to the van, I started looking for my purse...  and it wasn't there.  Because I had left it in the hamburger place!!!   Only about one hour after I had left it at the grocery store!  How could I really be such an airhead?  I wouldn't have even thought it was possible after the scare I had to leave it again only an hour later.
Along with the missing purse, we also noticed that Jef's phone had about 30 missed calls.  Most of them were from home, so we gave the kids a call.  Turns out that "some lady" had called the house asking for me, and then told the kids that she had my purse and I should come get it.  But when I didn't come for it right away, she brought it to our house.  I really hope she was coming this direction anyway, because that would have been almost an hour drive for her.  I have no idea who she was, but I am SO grateful to her.
So my purse made it home safely for the second time that day.  I told Jef that maybe I shouldn't leave the house anymore until after I've delivered this baby. I obviously can't take care of myself anymore.  If I only had a brain!

On Facial Hair

Remember this guy?
Seen him lately?
I haven't, and I sure do miss him! 
Such a good-looking guy...
Sigh

I have, however, seen plenty of this guy.

He was apparently supposed to be the replacement for the guy shown above.

Not much of a trade, if you ask me.

There was a reason to his madness, though.  He was an extra in the Church's New Testament Video Project.  They are filming all of the stories in the New Testament.  Jef got to be part of a lot of cool scenes, including the Sermon on the Mount and Peter's Denial.  So, if your Sunday School teacher is showing a New Testament video in class, then look for this guy. He had a great time, and really loved it.

But then he trimmed his beard a little,
and thought he looked totally different.
He was quite offended when I said it pretty much looked the same. (But really, what do girls know about facial hair, anyway?)

This was my favorite of the beard phases.

I could have survived with this one.

At least it was better than what came next!

They finished up with filming the first week in October, so he was done with the beard, and didn't need it anymore, but it took him days and days to get around to doing anything about it. He was just too emotionally attached. And then he couldn't just shave it off all at once. He had to do it in phases. So he wore this look for a whole day. Definitely not my favorite look for him.

And this look only lasted long enough to take the picture.

I told him it was wrong.  

Just wrong...

And so is this.
Definitely not the guy I married.

And this is pretty much what he looks like right now. He won't let me cut his hair too short, because they're filming again in the Spring, and he doesn't want to be too far behind in the hair-growing department. So he still doesn't look like the guy he used to be, but at least I can see his face. He's already talking about growing his beard back again to get a good start on Spring. But I told him he had to wait until the baby was born so we could get one good family picture before he disappears again.

Lydia's Car Song

Amazing how one blog post leads to another, isn't it?  A couple months ago we took a trip up north.  I can't even remember why now, but on the way home Lydia started singing.  She kept it up for over an hour!  She would stop if you looked at her, so this video is taken by me from the front seat without turning around.  (Very tricky.)  I realize it's a little long, but at least I didn't record the whole 90 minutes!




And here's a story to go along with this video. :)  I was chatting with the Primary President a few weeks ago, and I was saying how the other day Lydia had been singing Primary songs on the potty, and I was so impressed at how well she knew all the words.  I wished that the singing leader could have heard her.  But the Primary President said, "Oh, we know."  (You do?)
Then she explained, "Lydia sings all through Primary.  Even when no one else is singing.  We all know how well she knows the words."

Oh.

Excuse me while I hide under this rock over here.  So nice talking to you!  Bye.

My Conscience

Apparently my conscience has learned how to text.  This is not a good thing.  First my regular conscience - the one inside my head - urges me to fold the laundry.  So I very obediently start folding laundry, when out of the blue I get a text from my conscience telling me to update my blog.  How weird is that?  It had only been about two minutes since it told me to fold the laundry!  So I texted back.  I said, "You just told me to fold the laundry.  I can only do one thing at a time.  Make up your mind!"  My conscience replied that my blog was more important than the laundry.  Hmmm.  Sounds suspicious, doesn't it?  Has anyone else's conscience been acting strangely lately?  Maybe the planets are misaligned, or something.  So weird....

And just so you know, Conscience, I folded four loads of laundry tonight.  How many did you fold, hmmm?

But just to keep everyone happy, I do have a funny story to tell.  At least I hope someone out there thinks it's funny...    But you knew when you came to this blog that I was a little different....

The other day someone knocked on my door.  I immediately recognized him as a salesman, but I do try to be nice to them as long as they're not creepy, so I invited him in.  Robyn and Emily immediately joined us because, to be honest, he was gorgeous.  Turns out he was from Estonia, and I was curious what he had come from Estonia to sell.  Turns out he was part of a program that brings college kids over to sell educational materials to help your kids learn how to read and do better in school.  I about died.  Talk about knocking on the wrong door!  I started laughing, and so did Robyn and Emily.  Poor guy, he was so confused.  I finally explained, "I'm really sorry, but we discourage that kind of thing around here."
I'm sure he thought he had misunderstood me.  His English was very good, but surely no mother would really say such a thing?
(Insert lots of giggling from Robyn and Emily all through this conversation.)
So I tried to explain to him that Jennie hasn't started Kindergarten yet and is already reading fluently.  He said he didn't see how that was a problem, and I said, "Yes!  Most people without this problem usually say that.  But it is definitely a problem."  I went on to describe going to the school to calm my child who was on the floor crying inconsolably because she was literally bored to tears and hated school after only one month of Kindergarten.  He still didn't look convinced, but he could tell I wasn't going to be buying any Beginning Reading Materials.  So he moved on to the Help Your Child Do Better in School Materials.  Once again I had to explain. I don't want my children to do better in school.  (If there was some kind of program for Advanced kids, then I would be in favor, but all we have now is teachers who don't know what to do with them and some who feel threatened by kids who are smarter than they are.  Besides which, I have yet to see any proof that being school-smart makes you successful in life. Not that I explained any of this to him.  I just said my kids were too smart already.)
By now he was sure I was the strangest parent in America.  But, to give him credit, he was not easily discouraged.  He went on to tell me about the great books they have.  And it's true, we do love books.  But we already have twice as many as will fit in our bookcases, and getting my children to do anything but read this summer has been a nightmare. (Did I mention that I just ordered glasses for a THIRD child?)  So once again I had to refuse, explaining that I was trying to discourage reading among all my children.  
He was very nice, and packed up his stuff to go.  He said he had been doing this for three years, and I was the first mother he had ever met who felt that way.  Nice to know I'm an original! 
Poor guy.

Dream Castles

Jennie, like all of her siblings so far, is just too smart for her britches.  This doesn't mean that any of my children have any common sense whatsoever - because they don't.  But they are very good at all things scholastic.  Having already had one nightmare year with a child who entered Kindergarten already reading on a first or second-grade level, I have done my best to deliver all subsequent children to their first day of Kindergarten without knowing how to read.  I succeeded with Cannon, and was very proud of myself.  He learned how to read with all the other children.   And I have tried - really tried - to do the same with Jennie.  She went to preschool last year, and learned way too much.  So I decided to keep her out of preschool this year in an effort to stall her learning.  To sooth my conscience, I told myself I would do art projects with her during the school year so that she still had something to do and learn.
Well, I totally failed.
The child is reading like crazy, and we've done about half-a-dozen art project since school started last fall.   
Sigh.
But Jennie found a book called something like 50 Things to Do at Christmas Time.  (No matter how I try, there are always a few Christmas things that escape the packing-up process, and hang around all year long.) She has carried this book around with her everywhere, and even sleeps with it.  She eventually talked me into doing a couple of the more simple art projects found therein.  The one she was most excited about was a castle advent calendar.  We made a few adjustments.  (Left out the snowflakes and the numbered doors that open), and made some castles.  The girls loved it.  Lydia especially enjoyed the opportunity to use scissors and glue. I think she used almost a whole stick of glue on this project, but they turned out beautifully.

Cannon's Birthday

Just remembered that I never posted about Cannon's birthday.  Poor neglected child.  So here it is.  At the end of February, Cannon turned SEVEN.  Now, there's nothing so stunning about seven, until you start thinking that there's only one more year until he turns EIGHT.  Now that is stunning. 
My Georgie-Porgie is a cute little guy.  He's super-good reader - one of the best in the school - and he's a sweet boy who tries to keep up with his brother in everything.  He doesn't care that Ben's legs are longer, or that Ben has been going to school longer, or that Ben is just plain bigger - he still thinks he should be able to compete with Ben on Ben's level.  This means that the poor kid is disappointed quite a lot.  But he still keeps trying, and I'm sure that one of these days Ben will be shocked to find that Cannon has kicked his butt - in everything from foot races to times tables.
When I asked Cannon what kind of cake he wanted for his birthday, he said, "Caramel."  How in the world do you make a caramel cake?  So I got creative, and came up with what passed for a caramel cake.  It ended up being more like pie, actually, but no one complained because it was yummy.

All Cannon wanted for his birthday was two new Wii remotes.  If you've got a Wii, you know that that is an expensive request.  Because, of course, he has to have the nun-chucks to go with them so he can play Lego Star Wars.  So by the time I finished spending that whole pile of money, I wasn't willing to spend any more.  Still, it's not very exciting to just open a couple of remotes and be done - especially when you're at Grandma's house, and can't even use them until you get home.  So I went shopping at the dollar store.  Turns out he loved the dollar presents he got. 

So, note to self:  Next year save yourself a hundred bucks, and just go to the dollar store for all his gifts.

Happy Birthday, Cannon!  Love you, Bud!