Missing

I have definitely been missing in action.  This last week was performance week for the little dance program I run here in Iowa.  I was lucky enough to have my friend Trisha come out and help me - so it went great.  I, of course, took no pictures at all.  But I will be getting pictures soon from the photographer, and then I will post them.

*****

Last weekend we randomly traveled to Omaha.  It was very fun.  We've been doing a study for the University where we swab our throats every week.  This exciting experiment funded our Omaha fun.  I will post pictures of that in the future.

*****

GQ has the normal 3 year old drawl. 

This means when he says "I brought" it sounds like "I drunk".
When he says "Bear" it sounds like "Be-er".
When he says "Buzz Lightyear" it sounds like "Bud Light".

As in:  "I drunk Be-er and Bud Light - year".

Yup.

*****

Baby S is losing all his hair.  It is tragic, tragic, tragic.

Lately...

... Justin and I had our 8th Wedding Anniversary.  I took advantage of this moment to buy a cake that my friend Donna forced me to become addicted to.  It is all her fault.

We had the kids blow out candles, which they definitely enjoyed.  (This, however, is when I told them to pretend to blow the candles out so that I could take a picture.  Only M really looks like she's taking it seriously.)

********

This morning we walked to school despite threats of rain.  I hate putting Baby S in in his carseat, and avoid it if at all possible.  GQ steals Baby S's bear if at all possible.

And just look at those humidity curls...  I love the humidity, which most people find insane.  But I just feel so warm and wrapped up.  It's nice.  Plus, M's hair gets curly.

*******

Yesterday, E decided that she and M were running for President.  When I told her that I would not be voting (I can already hear the wails, regardless of who I voted for) she told me I was being mean to both of them.  Then she made M the President.  I assure you, it was in name only.  There was a real boss running things behind the scenes.

(This is the wall under the counter where E is allowed to tape things up.  She also has two drawers upstairs for projects, and two bins downstairs.  Two nights ago when I informed her that the bins were getting full and she might need to go through them and throw things away she became traumatized.)

I particularly like the oath of office pictured below.  If only. 

"I will be a good President my whole President days.  I will not give up.  I will be very honest."

*********

E's teacher Mrs. S. saved this for us:

True that, my friend, true that.

************

And below, an illustration of the many pirate swords being drawn around our house lately.  If you look closely you'll notice they come complete with blood on the ends.

These pirate swords are displayed on what GQ refers to as the "table mable." 

As in "Get off the table, Mable, the dollar's for the beer."  This is because in true Andersen fashion I always say: "Get off the table, Mable" when the kids are on it.  Justin has picked up this habit despite himself.  GQ obviously thinks tables are called "table mables"

He He.

Things I do to my kids.

Mental Problems

After I picked up E at school today, I was feeling a little guilty.  Like I had not accomplished anything.  So, I thought about it.  Today I had: scheduled summer swimming lessons, deposited some checks, gone to the library, read my scriptures, fed my children repeatedly (oh, if only they didn't have to eat!), cleaned up the house, orchestrated naps, did M's reading lesson, written my "one page a day", changed several diapers, and delivered and picked up from school.  And, honestly, that's a pretty good list.

So, why did I feel guilty?

Because of what I had not done, which included: catch-up on laundry, emptying the dishwasher, cleaning any bathrooms, cleaning the kitchen, thinking about dinner, bathing the children (a task I undertake a little less than often), catching up on the blog, writing "thank you" notes for gifts for S, and any other hundreds of myriad tasks which I promptly remember and forget at all times of the day. Sometimes I wonder about these forgotten tasks... what happens to them? where do they go? does something horrible happen that I either don't know about or don't connect to them?

This, to me, is one of the most difficult things about motherhood.  This constant battle of "What should I do today?"  This constant question of which tasks are going to make it to the top of my list.  The measuring of repeated tasks like laundry and cooking, with timeless tasks like reading to your children, and tasks that others require of you for callings, work, service, or friendships. 

What is supposed to get done each day?
And who decides?

I can tell you this much... it is good that newborns cry, or I might forget that nursing thing.  It is good that E runs out of underwear, or I might forget that laundry thing.  And it is good that M and GQ start fighting like banshees when they are hungry, or I might forget to feed them too.

Speaking of nursing... S is not so happy with my current prioritizing of tasks.  So, off I go.

Meanwhile, downstairs the other children are drawing swords with blood on them and discussing how if you stab someone in the heart they will die.  This is because I made the decision to read "Treasure Island" to them at night.

Obviously I have several mental problems.

Four Items of Business

E loves detective stories.  Nate the Great.  Encyclopedia Brown.  Things like that.  Recently she heard about a crime in the neighborhood from some school friends (I admit I am a little suspicious as to whether it actually happened).  She drew up a "Wanted" poster that night.  It said:

"Wanted: Thief.  Unknown Name. Unknown Looks."

She drew a picture of a bandit below.

She also recently found a small plastic fork.  She attached it to a drawing of a road and labeled it:

"A fork in the road."

That girl definitely takes after her father when it comes to humor.

****

M has begun drawing presents for everyone.  After craft time I always find scraps of paper left on my pillow, hung to the door, or waiting on my desk.  With both her and E in the craft production phase I am going to need a warehouse for all of their treasures.  I have taken to hiding some of them in the bottom of the trash can.  It is sad when it happens, but I don't know what else to do????  M signs all her pictures (even the ones drawn directly onto the walls).  She used to sign them Mee.  Then I taught her how to draw a "g".  Now she signs them Mgg.  I don't know if I'm up to correcting her.  She's so proud.

****

Lately, GQ likes to say the following:

"Mom, I love you."  Pause.  "I love both of you."

Does this mean he considers me a split personality?  That he loves both the cranky me and the nice me?

****

Every night S gets a bottle.  Usually I nurse him before I give him the bottle.  Still, when it is 7:00 he somehow knows that the bottle is coming and he will barely put up with nursing.  He keeps looking around for that contraption that just flows with seemingly neverending milk.

He is also taking to sucking on his fist.  As a thumb-sucker myself, I hope it doesn't stick... but it is really cute.

Easter Day

For some reason, when my new camera uses its flash everyone's faces come out red.  I am not sure why this happens, and will read the manual someday to figure it out.  (Or make Justin read it for me.) Until then, when Justin uses the camera (and it is on automatic) you will have red faces (above).  When I use the camera (on aperture mode) you will have washed out faces (see M below).  I have read the manual about that one, but have not quite figured out which f-stop to use when, or whatever.  Obviously I am a great photographer :)

Welcome to Easter morning at our house.  Justin and I debate the amount of treats to be eaten.  I would rather they just all disappeared as soon as possible so I can slack off on the monitoring role.  He wants to curtail the amount in the hopes of having pleasant, un-sugar-highed children for the rest of the day.  As a result, they get medium candy which results in whining for more candy and un-pleasant sugar-highed children the rest of the day.  Excellent.  Or...... don't throw up now.... eggsellent.

This child (above) has obviously decided to grow up.  I am not sure what he is thinking!!!

Oblivious to the race for eggs:

Happy Easter!!!

Easter Egg Hunt

And off to the races they go! One of the families in the ward has this large piece of ground they offer up to the Easter Egg Hunt every year.  Last year it was cold, and I was a baby and wanted to go home.  This year, it was a little bit nicer.  We stayed until it actually started raining.  I felt guilty for racing to the car and not cleaning up, but Justin informed me that since we had an actual baby this year it was totally legal.

Finding eggs:

Eating Eggs:

And my favorite photo of the whole day:

If that is not childhood, I don't know what is.

Lucky Lilacs

With an early Spring comes an early Lucky Lilacs.  When I noticed the lilacs blooming mid-March I could hardly believe it.  Lucky Lilacs isn't usually until Mother's Day!!!  I had planned on inviting some friends to the festivities this year, but since the Lilacs were perfect over Easter it didn't work out.  Instead, we had Lucky Lilacs a week too late for the flowers themselves.  I had to hunt down a few un-brown blooms the weekend after Easter.

Baby S had his first Lucky Lilacs ever.  Since my mom thought she'd have time to send the glasses later, we went without.  Last year I used sunglasses, and felt pretty stupid. I am not sure if I would have felt better with old-fashioned eyeglasses, but maybe we'll try next year.  I did enjoy the pictures Justin got of little S enjoying his first reading.  The first picture is my favorite.  Not only does S look amused, but E looks so happy to be watching Lucky Lilacs begin.  (She had gotten over the fact that we were going youngest to oldest by this point.)

He is definitely gazing in that lilac (above).  What do you think he sees???????

Below I told him to spit on his lilac.  He blew a few bubbles instead.

The kids gather around to hear his clue so they can go find his present for themselves.  I didn't get pictures of the rest of the kids on my lap because Justin wanted to videotape it instead.  But we definitely got a few higgledy piggledy's in there.

This year I had six hiding places to remember.  It's a little pathetic that I almost lost M's right after I hid it.  Apparently I need a little whispering in my ear.  After all the searching, with their prizes:

Playing with Baby S's bubbles:

(Lucky Lilacs is a family holiday started by my Great-Grandpa Rees and continued by my Aunt Becky.  A Lucky Lilac is any Lilac with either less or more than four petals - no cheating !!!!  Once you find one, Aunt Becky looks inside the Lilac.  With a few magic words and a little spit, the hiding place for a prize appears.)

For Your Amusement

Last Friday, I went to WalMart. Luckily, I only needed a few things and I was soon in line. While we waited, another patron commented on M's red hair. Since GQ was near me - in the cart - I played with his hair. It is a little red, and I am always wondering what color it will eventually be.

It was then that I noticed it.

At first, I did not know what it was, but after a few attempts to brush it out of GQ's hair - I realized...

This was a tick. And it was attached.

I would like to tell you that as a calm and collected mother of four, I went and bought some tweezers (I was at WalMart) and removed the tick with competence and finesse. This, however, is not what happened. Because:

THERE WAS A LIVING, WIGGLING, BUG ATTACHED TO MY TWO YEAR OLD'S HEAD!!!!! AND IT WAS SUCKING HIS BLOOD!!!!!

I do throw up. I do poop. I do lip gloss, and fingernail polish, and fuschia crayons in dryers. I do not do bugs attached to heads.

I am not a social butterfly, but I quickly began polling my fellow-shoppers on tick removal. I think I hoped that one would magically whip out his personal tick-removing tweezers and take care of this for me.

I have exactly 4 people programmed into my phone on speed dial.
I called them all. Only one of them answered.

Meanwhile, I tried not to look at GQ's head. Then, I felt guilty for being scared to look at GQ's head. Then, I called and made an appointment at the pediatrician to have the tick removed.

This may seem pathetic, but I don't care. I just wanted the tick out. And I never wanted to look at it again.

Unfortunately they did not have an appointment available for another hour and a half at the pediatrician. I was already grossed out that GQ had slept and napped with what he now happily called "my tick." This was unacceptable.

So, I called Justin again and told him he would have to leave work, come buy tweezers, and remove the tick himself.

Because frankly, I was pretty much flipping out.

And this is what he did. Because he is nice and loves me like that. And because I was hysterical, you know?

I did manage to watch him take the tick out since I knew I couldn't make him leave work all summer. Which is good, since E had one yesterday morning that I did manage to remove on my own.

I don't know. Between the mice and the ticks, I may be leaving Iowa tomorrow.