This blog update is for my sister Laura...

We spend most of our days with the door open, basking in the sun and the perfect weather.Andrew got me an alarm system for Valentine's Day (he is a hopeless romantic!), so I've had a lot more peace of mind lately.

Dean is sitting up now. He does big belly-laughs - Eva says, "He does a laugh just like we do!" Which is a perfect description.

Leighton is in the process of being potty-trained. He wasn't really ready (as in asking to go potty), and I know everyone says to wait for that, but I was ready and that's good enough. He's doing pretty well and I'm surprised how quickly he picked up on it. It's a big life change, when you think about it, but he's adapting well and will now tell me when he needs to go.

Eva is learning to read and she LOVES it. I started including a 5-minute reading lesson with preschool (from the Ordinary Parent's Guide to Teaching Reading) after she started asking about what words were and how to spell things. I figured she was ready, and she was. She is picking it up so quickly and I LOVE seeing her learn things and then apply them later that day when drawing a picture or trying to sound something out. We have started out slowly - we finished short vowel sounds and are onto consonants sounds - and it's awesome. I highly recommend the book.

I had a girls' craft night last week and I finally made my long-time dream a reality - I made a bib necklace. Otherwise known as a "statement piece," they are obnoxious and big and I love them. So I made one, and I have to say this may be my favorite thing I've ever made. After craft night, I could hardly sleep thinking about my creation. I got the chance to wear it 2 nights later when we went out on the strip for dinner and a show. I felt like a million dollars! It was cheap, easy, and unique - my kind of craft.

Top 5 moments of being 26, plus several more

{Turning 26}

{Turning 27}

We sat at Brio, the best restaurant in Vegas (in our as-yet limited experience) to celebrate my 27th birthday with Kara and Clay, Chris and Stacey. As I devoured the best dish in the world, Artichoke-Crusted Beef Medallions, Clay turned to me and asked me my TOP 5 best things during my year of being 26.

I am ashamed to say how slow I was to think of even ONE. I hemmed and hawed and searched my mind. Dean's birth was a given, but that was also a top 5 bad in many ways. I looked to Andrew for help, and he pointed out a few. I realized yet again how 2010 wasn't an awesome year for me. Clay's question got me thinking and I couldn't stop wishing I had answered differently. So here is my new and improved (and way expanded) answer, for Clay and everyone else, but mostly for me.

Best Moments of Age 26

1. The Skagit Valley tulip festival. It should be one of the 7 wonders of the world - it was breathtaking.

2. Watching the kids play in the snow at Grandpa's house over Thanksgiving.

3. Going to the airshow at Nellis and going inside Andrew's good old C-17. Also the day I successfully wore a hat publicly for one of the first times in my life.

4. Watching my Dad meet Dean for the first time, and having him stand in the circle to bless Dean.

5. Having my family come visit at Christmas - best Christmas gift ever.

6. Joining my boxing gym! The rush of going for the first time after so long literally brought me to tears. I love me some punching.

7. Going to St. George spontaneously for a fun trip with the Culvers and Noyeses.

8. Getting a yard put in and watching the kids play "lion hunt" in the bushes.

9. Going to Mt. Charleston in August and feeling the cool breeze and smelling the trees. It was the first time I felt content (weather-wise) since moving here.

10. Riding 4-wheelers in Mancos while camping with the Webbs.

11. Eating yummy seafood and playing on the rainy beach with the Schmeils, Minettos, and Smurthwaites right before moving from WA. Eva found a snail in the sand and brought it home. (Unfortunately, it was lost in the car and never found again.)

12. Our trip to the Oregon coast over Eva's 3rd birthday.

13. Making my first quilt.

14. Going on a cruise with Linds and Kenny. A perfect week! (Linds, we're about due for another cruise, don't you think?)

15. Watching Eva and Leighton learn so much during preschool.

16. Getting to touch Dean's soft little cheek for the first time, and then later getting to hold him. Actually, the first 2 weeks of his life were magical. (Thanks in part to pain pills and my sisters and Mom!)

And just for the record, because a few of these cropped up in remembering events, here are a few of my worst memories of last year.

Worst Moments of Age 26:

1. The Sunday where we were living in a hotel and I prayed so hard someone would invite us over for dinner and nobody did. I bawled on the way home from church and then we ate dinner at Chili's.

2. Every time I had to go outside in June, July, and August.

3. Thinking I was going to be murdered in my own home Andrew sent me emails from my own account that Google was going to kill me. (Long story that I wish I could forget but I probably never will. I truly believe that is when my heart problem was born.)

4. Having to drive 12 hours home to NV from CO 24 hours after getting there and stopping every 2 hours to give Leighton a breathing treatment.

5. Saying good-bye to our home in WA and living homeless for 2 months. Those were REALLY bad months.

So I'm not as pessimistic as I first felt when trying to answer Clay's question. It just took me a little longer than it should have. :) Looking back, I did remember a lot of lame things that happened, but I thought of WAY more than 5 things that made me cry from happiness. Actually, probably everything on my good list either made me cry or almost cry from my heart being so full and grateful and happy. I know being 27 will be even better than 26 in so many ways, and I can't wait to make my list next year!

P.S. Thanks to all of you who sent kind birthday messages! It meant so much to me to have you all think of me.

Learning to like Vegas

I sat outside on the bench playing with Dean on my lap and watching Eva and Leighton running around. They picked flowers from a nearby flower pot for me, forgetting that some flowers are not for picking. I told them not to pick anymore, but I was secretly pleased with their stolen gift. The music speaker was just behind us, playing upbeat songs, and I danced Dean and kissed him to the beat. He laughed and grinned his big smile that shows such pure joy it makes my heart stop every time. (I do have a heart condition, you know, so it's dangerous to see that smile too many times in a day.)

As we sat out, basking in the sunshine and the blissfully perfect weather, it hit me: I like it here. I like Las Vegas. I like having springtime weather in January. I like this very moment, at this very mall, waiting for my mother-in-law outside a darling children's boutique. (Where, I can't resist sharing, she got this and these for Eva's birthday! Cutest suit I've ever laid eyes on in my life. She'll be a little Audrey Hepburn at the pool.)

It was a landmark realization. Because although I knew I didn't mind it here and it wasn't as bad as it used to be, at some point I turned a corner and started being happy here. I'm not exactly sure when it happened. But this is big for me.

My tune may very well change come summertime. I told my mother-in-law that I think I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, except in the summer. I detest the heat. (Maybe a cute swimsuit of my own would help?) But for now, I'm so glad to know I have finally really settled in to my life here.

Life is so very good. Even in Sin City.

Dinner Party

{Clay is missing from this picture because he had to leave early for a basketball game. Andrew was just on his way out to a meeting when we took the picture - hence the white shirt and tie.}

I love serving big meals to people. It's one of my greatest passions. Special occasions (holidays, birthdays, having people over for dinner) and their accompanying "big deal meals" just make me happy. In the spirit of my Happiness Project, I thought I would record and share my typical process for planning a dinner party.

It starts several days before the big event, when I start planning the menu. Much to Andrew's annoyance, this takes even longer than the actual preparation of the food. Every dish has to be just right and have a special purpose. This week, for example, I was planning a party to welcome Chris Culver home from deployment. Well do I remember what a HUGE deal Andrew's homecoming was to me, so I wanted to let Stacey know how happy and excited we were for their family. Plus, good food always makes a get-together more enjoyable.

Knowing the party would be on Tuesday, I started brainstorming about main courses on Friday. In a moment of inspiration, I decided on my great-grandmother's recipe for BBQ ribs. Always a hit, and significant emotional attachment for me as well - perfect for the occasion. Naturally, you need potatoes to go with ribs. I considered normal baked potatoes, but then remembered a few weeks ago, when we had these same friends (sans Chris, of course) over for a post-Christmas dinner. I had served my Christmas-traditional twice-baked bleu-cheese potatoes. Clay had fallen in love with them and declared, "These are my new favorite food." So for Clay's sake (and mine, because I adore those potatoes more than any other form of potatoes - which is saying a lot), I decided on those again. Plus, I had bleu cheese left that needed to be used! See, I'm also very resourceful.

Rolls are also a necessity with almost any meal. Knowing myself and my tendencies to let WAY too much of my emotional well-being ride on the way my rolls turn out, I opted for frozen, yet delicious, Rhodes rolls. With Kara helping to put on the event, and knowing her natural ability to create amazing salads, I put her in charge of salad, drink, and ice cream.

That left me with a dessert - the hardest part every time. It has to be just the right level of fanciness, uniqueness, and still appropriate for the celebration. (By the way, Thanksgiving is always a White Chocolate Pumpkin Cheesecake with Pecan-Gingersnap Crust - a perfect holiday food. Just to throw out an amazing recipe that you have to make sometime.) With our occasion - Chris's return - I thought a cake would be good. Cakes are celebratory. I briefly considered a store-bought Costco cake, and then this amazing, incredible Sour Cream-Chocolate Cake with Peanut Butter Frosting and Chocolate-Peanut Butter Glaze (I made that in WA with our friends the Willises), but opted for something a little less time-intensive. I found this and this, but ultimately decided on a Hot Fudge Peanut Butter Pudding cake made...in the CROCK POT. Perfect.

The menu was set. The countdown was on. The morning of the party (Tuesday), I woke up thinking about the food, as I always do on mornings like that. My mind was racing with things to do to get everything just right.

First step was to brown the ribs, make the sauce, and put it all in the crockpot (which always takes longer than I think!). Then I made my schedule for the day. This is one of my favorite parts of big meals (pathetic, I know). I work backwards from the time we will eat and figure out how much time each step will take - cooking and preparation - and write it on my chalkboard. That way I know I have to get the rolls out of the freezer to thaw at 12:30, turn the crock pot down to low at 2pm, and get the cake on high no later than 2:30pm. Since I am a list-lover, this method works well for me. And it makes it almost fool-proof when planning multiple dishes. (Note: I did say almost.)

Chris's dinner was one of the few "big deal meals" where nothing went terribly wrong. Nothing was burnt, I didn't run out of any ingredients in the middle of cooking, I didn't forget any crucial dishes. (Like the time I forgot to make a starch to go with a roast for a dinner party in WA - EMBARASSING.) I did forget to make the corn, but then I decided we didn't need it after all - it had been a last-minute and unnecessary addition to the menu.

Our friends arrived at 4:30, and I finished what little was left to do - crumble the bacon for the potatoes and make sure everything was warm.

Then comes the all-time best part of the whole ordeal - the part that makes being on my feet for 8 hours straight worth every minute - the sounds of "mmm!" and seeing people go back for seconds. It's not that I want people to compliment me, but that I want my food to make them happy. Even if it's just for a minute, it just thrills me to give someone the gift of a good meal. I'm not sure why I'm like this, but even before I loved to cook (or before I knew how to cook pasta without directions) I have always found joy in making food for people.

So I'll report that Tuesday night was an utter success. We had a grand time all being together again, and the food wasn't too shabby. Even if I do say so myself.

Here's the recipe for my great-grandma's ribs. Perfect for a crowd and delicious every time!

Grandma's BBQ Ribs

Boneless pork ribs (however many you need to feed your group - the sauce makes plenty for a pack of ribs from Costco)

3 c. water

4 c. ketchup

1/2 c. lemon juice

3/4 c. Worcestershire sauce

1/2 c. vinegar

1/2 c. butter

2 c. celery, diced

3/4 tsp. cayenne

1/2 c. brown sugar

1 med. onion, chopped

1 Tbsp. ground mustard

1/2 c. brown sugar

Brown ribs on all sides and set aside in crock pot or large pot. Combine all remaining ingredients in a large pot. Bring to a boil, then remove from heat. Pour over ribs. (If they don't all fit in one pot, split them up and put another pot on the stove or in the oven.) Cover with lid; cook on high for 4 hours and low for at least 4 more hours. In the oven, cook at 325 for at least 4 hours. On the stove, put over low heat for at least 4 hours. (The longer you cook them they softer they get!)

Serve with twice-baked bleu cheese potatoes! AMAZING!!

Calm after the storm. Or rather, after the volcano eruption.

{ This picture is totally irrelevant to this post. I just wanted to show you the monstrosity I had for lunch today. We went on a date to Hash House a-Go-Go, and I've never seen food stacked so high. No, I didn't finish it. But pretty dang close...}

Last night: My stress level was high. After a disappointing call from Andrew at work cancelling a plan I had made and throwing a kink in our dinner party next week, I was annoyed. The kids were ornery and snippy, Dean was whiny and fussy. At dinner, Leighton pretended his couscous were "sprinkles" and threw them all over the floor and table like confetti. Dean screamed and wouldn't be comforted by anything. In the tub, Eva and Leighton got in a huge, screaming fight that resulted on claw marks on both their bodies. (When I forget to cut their nails, it's like handing them a weapon and tell them to have at each other.) That was the last straw. I snapped inside. I grabbed the recorder from the play room floor and started yelling - in an ugly voice I hardly recognized as my own - and slammed the recorder on the counter. I grabbed them out of the tub, wrapped them in their towels, and threw them on their own beds, slamming the doors behind me. Then I put Dean in his crib and, to the terrible chorus of all three children screaming at the top of their lungs, I marched downstairs to the garage. I sat there panting and gulping in the cool air. I was scared of how angry I felt. I was scared that I didn't even feel sorry for losing it. I said a prayer - because the Spirit was nowhere near me by that point - asking for help in feeling sorry. I asked that my anger be taken away because I didn't know what to do with it. It was a very dark moment. I took a deep breath, then went back upstairs.

I found naked Leighton with a key trying to open Eva's door. He looked at me sweetly, as if nothing had happened, and said, "I got a key." I helped him open the door (although it wasn't locked, he was proud of his key that had fallen off the door post when I slammed it) and saw Eva curled up in a ball in her towel under her covers, her wet hair matted to her pillow and her face streaked with tears. In that moment, my prayer was answered, and all my anger disappeared. I felt the full weight of shame - self-loathing, even - at how I had treated my babies. I bent over her and told her how sorry I was. I asked her to fogive me, and my tears fell on her little cheeks. She gave me a hug, and all was well.

All night, I thought about how I had let my emotions run out of control. What kind of a mother was I? Not the kind I wanted to be. I thought about my goals for happiness and how my total lack of self-control was making it hard to make myself or my kids happy. This morning, after studying "self-control" in the scriptures for a half hour, I resolved to NEVER act like that again.

Tonight: All three kids were in the tub at once. Dean was joyfully kicking his feet and flailing his arms, his fat rolls jiggling. Leighton played Legos and built an airplane, then repeatedly crashed it and laughed hysterically. Eva leaned over Dean and cooed at him and let him pull her hair, laughing at his funny baby sounds. I watched it all and sang, "Boom boom, ain't it great to be crazy" and clapped. It was idyllic and peaceful and happy. The utter and complete opposite of exactly 24 hours earlier. After I got them all dressed, I put them in Eva's room to play dollhouse and went to drain the tub and hang up towels. I heard Dean start to fuss (I had put him on his stomach on the floor, and he hates that) and then quickly stop. I finished what I was doing and peeked around the corner to find Leighton showing Dean some little toys to play with. They all sat happily, playing together. It was perfection.

As I sat in Dean's room and fed him before bed, Leighton kept bringing us pieces of the dollhouse things, saying "Deanie needs these stairs." "Deanie needs flowers." Dean fell asleep despite the intteruptions and went down effortlessly (as he normally does, thankfully). Leighton had a bit of a hard time going to bed as he had fallen asleep earlier for a few minutes, so I went in his room to read him a story. He was so sweet during the story, asking me things about the numbers (it was a counting book) and understanding the story line. Afterwards, he was making jokes - genuinely funny ones - and we lay there laughing for a while. Then I sang him a song and rubbed his arm. He said, "Sing me another one, Mommy." So I did. He said, "Sing me another one, Mommy." I said, "I have to go back downstairs." He said, "Sing popcone popping on a a-ticot tee." So I did, and he sang with me, and did the actions with his adorable little hands. Then he said, "Mommy, go downstairs now." I kissed him and said I love you, and he said I love you a couple times, even after I closed the door. There was a happy glow around me, and I felt so content with my life as I came back downstairs.

What made the difference? Lots of things. Some nights, I let everything get to me until I reach boiling point, and some nights nothing bothers me. I don't know why. Why can't I always be positive? Why can't every night be like tonight?

My Happiness Project: January

A couple days after Christmas, I went to the bookstore in search of a book recommended to me by my sister Cami. The Happiness Project. I found it, bought it (despite the steep hardback pricetag), and read it in a little over 24 hours, as I am apt to do with books I love.

This book changed my life in many ways. The biggest way was to direct me in my New Year's Resolutions. I had been in search of an idea for a 12-month system that changed monthly rather than a do-or-die-all-or-nothing-all-year-long approach. I found what I was looking for in the H. For someone change-oriented like me, whose motivation ebbs and flows from day to day (or is that everyone?) this was a perfect approach. For someone who thrives on charts and lists and checkmarks and visual proof of progress, this was just the thing.

So go read the book. (I have a copy that I'm happy to lend out.) Get it from the library if you don't have $30 to spare. Or get it on Amazon if you are more patience-oriented and spend $12. And don't be one of those lame-oes who hates on New Year's Resolutions, okay? Resolutions rock.

Here are mine for the month of January.

~Wake up at 6:15am (this is a work in progress - I'm gradually getting there. Today was 6:40am.)

~Study scriptures for 30 minutes

~Write something every day

~Exercise 5 times a week

~Go to gym (boxing) 3 times a week

~Take a picture (I am doing Becky Higgins' Project Life this year and I LOVE it!)

~15 minutes of housework (put the house to bed)

~Veggie up! (This one is thanks to Cooking Light magazine's awesome 12HH program - check it out!)

So far, so good. I haven't been perfect every day, but I'm not expecting that. I feel so good about the efforts I'm making, and that's enough for me.

So long, farewell to 2010

Well, this year is coming to an end. It has certainly been my worst year yet for blogging, which has brought me a great deal of guilt.

I have decided that 2011 is my year for a few things, one of which will be WRITING. I love it, and I want to pursue it more. I will be dedicating daily time to it next year. But I'm still just not sure about this little blog. I feel like it needs a fresh start, or a purpose of some sort. It's not my journal, as I write that elsewhere. It's not my scrapbook, as I do that other ways. So what is it? Why do I want to keep writing here, and what should I write about?

I don't know. But I'm going to figure it out, hopefully within the next 2 days.

I'll let you know.
2010 was, by and large, the worst year of my life in many ways. I understand now how people can say, "It's just been a hard year." The move was hard, my birth and recovery were hard. But I don't want to remember the hard times, at least not foremost in my mind. Although this year brought more challenges than any other, it was also good in countless ways.

I am happy.

And I'm looking forward to putting a new calendar on my wall and starting all over again.

My own firemen episode

I am sick. Not like lay-in-bed kind of sick, but talk-like-a-smoker-cow-frog kind of sick. My voice is GONE.

So this afternoon, after avoiding phone calls all day, Andrew calls to tell me he got a message on his phone from a member of our stake presidency that he was trying to get a hold of me. I told Andrew to call him back for me to see what he needed, because I couldn't talk on the phone. Andrew called back a few minutes later and said, "Pres. Waite is calling the house phone in a few minutes. Make sure you answer." So, reluctantly, I answered. And got called to the stake choir! My wish came true. But anway, that's not the point. So I had to make a phone call to the choir director to talk about details. Since the kids were being a little noisy, I stepped into the garage to talk on the phone. I could hear the kids all crying and tried to get off quickly. Eva was sobbing, "Where's Mommy, Bubba?" I felt bad and cracked open the garage door to let her know where I was. I shut it to finish my conversation. She stood by the door crying. And then...she locked it.

So I got off the phone, hearing Dean's crying escalate quickly, and tried to croak to Eva to unlock the door. But her mental powers seemed to disintigrate as I spoke, and she could NOT unlock it. After a few minutes, I started to lose it. I dug through the garage - every shelf, every tool box, the car - trying to find something to pick the lock with. Nothing. I started to cry and panic. Eva started to panic even more. She pulled up a chair to reach the lock (like she had shrunk since locking it) and deadbolted the door, now making it absolutely impossible for me to get in through that door. I knew she wouldn't be able to undo that one no matter what I said. Dean still screamed away, so hard that I thought he would pass out. I tried not to let my ideas of the terrible possiblities that could happen (and surely would! knives! the stove! the oven! broken glass!) creep in, but alas. In complete hysteria, I called 911.

In retrospect, it's probably a good thing I called when it wasn't a true life-and-death emergency. Just so I know when I'm actually about to die that I will have to answer questions and be redirected to people. WHAT? I hope that if I were bleeding to death the situation would have been handled differently. As it was, the operator was very rude. "You got locked out of your house? How? Like on accident?" No, sir. On purpose. I'm doing all this to get attention. OF COURSE IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! WOULD I BE CALLING 911 IF I HAD PLANNED TO GET LOCKED OUT? Anyway. I was redirected to the fireman. I told him my address (or rather, squeaked out my address, hoping he could understand me. Andrew said listening to me talk today is like having someone push the mute button every couple of words.). They came quickly - less than 5 minutes.

When I say "they," I mean a swarm of at least 8 handsome, tall, strong, friendly, uniform-clad firemen. I couldn't help but think of that Modern Family episode with the firemen. If I'd have known they were coming, I might have put on a nice shirt, you know? (But remember, this was an ACCIDENT, which, by definition, means I did not plan for it to happen. Operator.) They swooped in on their big powerful truck and saved us. By going around to the back door and having Eva unlock that and open it up.

Umm, hello? Why did I not think of that? Talk about feeling stupid. In my hysteria, I didn't even think about the fact that the kids know how to unlock that door. Not to mention they would be able to see me talking them through it in case their brains pooped out, like what happened at the garage.

I called Andrew (after leaving him a tearful, impossible-to-understand message earlier) and said, "I got back in the house. I called 911 and the firemen came. It was totally stupid." He called back and first thing he asked when I answered was, "Did you at least put on a nice shirt?" He gets it. (And let it be known: even after seeing all those firemen, I'd still pick Andrew.)

And our next FHE lesson WILL be on how to unlock doors, and will include hiding a key outside, in case of a repeat episode. Although I wouldn't mind those firemen coming back. Kidding, honey, I'm kidding. But maybe I should hide a cute shirt out there with the key. Just in case.

Still alive and punching

Our computer is broken. I don't have access to all the files I need; hence, the slacking on preschool posting. We have still been having preschool, which is the most important part, but I apologize if there happened to be anyone waiting for my next preschool post. It will eventually come. :)

We are seriously having a "broken" streak right now. First my Bosch blender, then my hand mixer, then our TV, then our computer, and today our new replacement blender broke. (We have BAD luck with blenders. Any reccommendations on a good blender for smoothie-making?) We hit the 60,000 mile mark on the van and took that in for a tune-up. I joined a way expensive, totally awesome, boxing gym. Life is generally expensive right now. Perfect timing, with Christmas coming up, right? Oh well - we've been really lucky since we got married not to have lots of repairs to make, and I guess our good streak is over.

So my boxing gym. HELLO, awesome. I went on Saturday, knowing full-well that I would fall in love and it would be pricey. And that's exactly it. Since we moved here I have been in serious boxing withdrawals. I knew I loved it, but I didn't know how much until I didn't have it. And now, it's back in my life. With a vengeance. I had the most killer workout of my life today. I have been on my lose-the-baby-weight-plus-some journey for a few weeks now, and I feel great. Progress isn't lightning fast, but the important thing is establishing good habits, I think. I've been using sparkpeople.com to track my food and have been totally shocked at how many calories I consume every day. Just writing it down, without making any drastic changes, has already made a difference. Good-bye to my days of eating ice cream straight from the carton and accidentally eating a quarter of it.

So no pictures or anything fabulous to write about, but I just missed my little blog and thought I'd drop in for a quick note. Later.

P.S. Our house is totally ready for Christmas. Tree, lights, and all. I LOVE this time of year. The only thing missing is a beautiful Washington Christmas tree cut down by my dear husband. Costco artificial fit the bill this year.

Happy Halloween!

From Rosie the Riveter, the Witch, the Fire Fighter, the Pea Pod, and the Soccer Player (behind the camera).

Family Pictures 2010

Marissa Redder, my old college roommate and Kara's sister-in-law, came to Vegas recently and agreed to take our family pictures. I was so excited - I love her pictures. She did an awesome job and I can't wait to get them all printed out! Thank you, Marissa!!

Letter C

{The kids loved helping make the crepes. I let them each crack an egg for their first time and it was a success. No shells in the batter!}

Monday: We read The Carrot Seed (BFIAR book) and The Whole Green World. We read both books twice. We tore up little pieces of orange construction paper and glued them to a big letter C. As usual, our art activity ends in Eva drawing all sorts of things. This time she wanted to draw the library storytime lady, Miss Shelly. She drew a picture of her with a head and legs. I said, "How about some legs? Does she need legs?" And Eva answered, "Um, no. She can just walk." Then she drew a squiggly line around and through all her pictures and letters saying, "Excuse me! Excuse me!" Like the line was interrupting the other things on the paper. What a crack-up. We did our Kumon cutting workbook and Leighton cut all the way through the paper for the first time. Then Eva did tangrams to make the letter C. We sang a song about the seed cycle (to the tune of Farmer in the Dell) and did the actions of planting and harvesting seeds.

Tuesday: We read Carrot Soup, and re-read our books from yesterday. Eva did her C pages in her workbook, along with a few extras working on size sorting. We went outside to play catch and draw with chalk. I traced the kids outlines on the patio and drew in the details of their faces and clothes. I found a Mr. Rogers video on how they make crayons, which was cool because Eva had asked me while coloring what crayons were made of. We made cookies after dinner (leftover dough from last week's M&M cookies. They were better after sitting in the fridge for a few days!) and I let the kids have 2 each. I had...a few more than 2.

Wednesday: We read Clumsy Crab and drew pictures based on C is for Crab. We clipped clothespins to a can (great motor skill activity for Leighton - his first time to get the clothespin open by himself) and a page in our Kumon Sticker and Paste. Although the stickers were supposed to go on a girl's apron, Leighton insisted she needed some stickers on her shoes, too. Then I let Leighton draw with markers while Eva did some alphabet workbook pages; he figured out how to draw balloons and literally sat without hardly lifting his head for over an hour straight. His paper is completely covered with little circles he drew and meticulously colored in and lines going straight up the page. A masterpiece - I'm saving that forever as his first intentional drawing. Ever since that day he has had this amazing focus while drawing and stays at it for LONG periods of time. We went in the backyard and did the crab walk later that evening. I intended to have a race, but I didn't take into account my out-of-shapeness or the kids' lack of competitive drive in things like that. So we crab-walked for about 2 minutes until I couldn't do it any more and the kids resorted to tackling me instead. Oh well. :) Also, we had cold cereal for dinner. (Not because of the letter C but because of the word LAZY.)

Thursday: We started the day by making delicious crepes for breakfast. I read them Crepes by Suzette and used the recipe in the back to make the crepes. Yum! My first time making them - definitely not my last. (How sad that someone who lived in France for 3 years has never made crepes, right?) After breakfast we read The Mixed-Up Chameleon. We drew chameleons (Andrew and I even got in on the art action and made it family drawing time - it was so fun!) and did some math workbook. Eva wanted to show Daddy her mad workbook skills, so we pulled out a bunch and let her do what she wanted for a while.

Friday: I had no books this day as my theme was caterpillars and my library book didn't come in time. Oh, and our copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar is torn in half after a few years of love and hundreds of readings. (Whoever thought board books were sturdy should come take a look at our bookshelves - R.I.P. Goodnight Moon.) So after circle time we went straight into crafts - making caterpillars out of pompoms and popsicle sticks. (I can't remember where on the internet I found this idea - sorry.) The kids LOVED the caterpillars - I even got out the googly eyes for them. And that was pretty much all we did that day for preschool.

Saturday: I finally got all the books I was waiting for - I need to request them earlier, I guess. So we just did reading today. The Monkey and the Crocodile, If I Ran the Circus (didn't make it all the way through that one), Coco the Carrot, and the Crunching, Munching Caterpillar.

Next week: Letter A