abby loves brownies

So, as you all know my boys are the world's pickiest eaters. It's true. Each uniquely picky, which adds to my culinary woes. Be that as it may, they all have one thing in common. They love dessert. Anything that even closely resembles dessert.

But Abby? Abby loves brownies.

My boys beg for dessert. Sometimes Will helps himself and then answers the question "what are you eating" with a perfectly timed "nothing" as parts of it are still rolling around in his mouth.

But Abby? Abby stands by the counter where the brownies are and cries. "What's wrong?" you ask. You pick her up, you get her a drink, take her in the other room, and two minutes later, she's back in the kitchen with the brownies.

Now I know she's only 1 and brownies should probably not have been part of her education yet, but brownies are an important part of mother-daughter bonding. This and mexican food. And one day (if I haven't acquired the willpower to give it up completely) Dr. Pepper. So yes, I've let her mooch brownies.

And now? Now she wants brownies. All. the. brownies. All. the. time. I have to hide the pan so she can't see it or I just have a whiney baby with a perpetual chocolate smile.

There is barely a bite left in the pan, now. Her work is almost complete. Maybe no more brownies for a while. Sorry dessert-loving boys!

Christmas

So, we all went to Missouri for Christmas this year. Steve's parents recently built a home in Gallatin, MO which is very near Adam-Ondi-Aman (no idea if that's remotely close to being spelled right, but I digress).

After a through-the-night 16 hour car ride across Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, Iowa, and Missouri, we finally made it. The kids did great - being as it was the middle of the night, they just slept the whole way. Steve and I were pretty beat, but managed to catch up (kind of) after a nap or two...or ten.

Steve's brothers Chris (and his family) and Mark were also there. The kids had a great time getting to know new uncles, aunts, and cousins. Since we didn't bring the camera (I know, shame on us) I have no pictures, so you'll have to read through the rest unillustrated.

So, Sam and Jake went with Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Christ, Aunt Valerie, and cousins Noah and Charlotte to Liberty, MO. Mom and Dad stayed home with Abby and Will because we were planning to go to Nauvoo the next day. I wasn't feeling totally great and I wasn't sure the little ones would do well with a 90 minute (each way) car ride on Monday followed by a 4+ hour car ride to Nauvoo the next day.

Sam and Jake came home with lots of stories to tell about Liberty. Even as little as they are, I really think they sensed the gravity of what happened there.

Then, about 2:30 the following morning, I woke up with severe chills and 102 degree fever. Steve woke up his parents to find out how to get to the ER, and we drove to the booming metropolis of Cameron (no, it really wasn't) about 30 minutes away. It was dead as a doornail. Upon arrival, it seems that not only did I have a 102 degree fever, but also a racing heartbeat - like 145 or something. Apparently this is not normal. Only small children couple racing heart rates with high temps and most people outgrow it at age 12. Except me. They hooked up an EKG to be sure. They ran lots of tests to rule of everything else that could be causing high fever and lower back pain, only to confirm that I had a severe (raging was the Doc's word) kidney infection and was severely dehydrated. They pumped me full of fluids, painkillers, and antibiotics. They sent me home with scrips for more.

Needless to say, we didn't make it to Nauvoo. Steve's mom generously agreed to help us with th kids. Sam went to Nauvoo and was in Carthage on 12/23 - the prophet's birthday. He came home with lots of new found knowledge, and again, a reverance for where he had been. I was impressed.

So, I stayed down most of the first day everyone was gone. The second, I found out that my stomach hates tramadol - the painkiller. So, I traded pain for nausea and vomit. Fun - HUH!?

Then, everyone returned home and we had Christmas Eve - our kids were in bed asleep by 6:15 - it was beautiful.

During the night on Christmas Eve, Will woke up to find that Santa had come. Since he can readily identify the letter W as belonging to him, he quickly found his stocking, which Santa had filled with candy and took it to his room. There, he proceeded to quietly devour the entire contents. When the rest of the kids got up and Steve and I emerged from the basement, we found will, in a nest of chocolate wrappers and sporting what looked like a black eye but was really a lovely chocolate smear across his face. Happy Christmas to Will.

The kids were really excited about their gifts and since it was like 4:30 or 5:00 when we all got up, Christmas morning ended with naps around.

We left the following day 12/26. After taking nearly 30 minutes to get out of the driveway (snowed a ton Christmas day in MO), we got on the road headed to Lincoln, NE where we would get on I-80 home. When we got there (nearly 4 hours later) we discovered that I-80 had been and would be closed "indefinitely." At which time, we turned back the way we came and drove almost 3 hours back and then more to get on I-70 to go home. We celebrated Abby's 1st birthday at 10:30pm at a Cracker Barrel in Junction City, KS before we all collapsed in our two queens at the Holiday Inn across the street.

The next day we drove all the way across KS, all the way across CO (where we stopped at a Safeway in Vail for dinner that more closely resembled the snow-gear-clad version of LAX - no one spoke English, there was a taxi stand out front, and everyone wanted to know where the cigarettes were), and then through Price all the way to Provo, UT arriving about 15 hours later at about 11:30 pm on 12/27. Long drive does not begin to describe the experience.

After a week recuperating we're all getting back into the swing of things. Sam, Jake, and Steve got back to school on 1/4 and the rest of us are trying to get in a regular schedule too.

So, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all!

i heart 9 am church

Okay, so for all of you who switched to 9am church today and hated it, please don't continue with my exuberant discourse on the glory that is 9am church.

My children get up between 6:15 and 6:30 - ON A GOOD DAY. On a bad day, five is the first number on the clock. For those of you who know me (at all) you will know that I am not now nor have I ever been a morning person. For example, when I was a teenager early morning seminary was taught at my house. AT MY HOUSE. I struggled to be showered and on-time. We will not at this time comment upon my consciousness state during the hour-long class, but suffice it to say I probably looked like a seated version of the self that five minutes earlier had been snuggled in my bed.

And speaking of snuggled, that is why I hate morning. You're all warm and snuggled and asleep in your happy place and then somewhere in the freezing cold darkness all that is jerked away by a small mostly naked person who tells you he's stinky. Stinky diapers at 5:15 in the blessed AM are worse than alarm clocks - and that's saying a lot.

So, back to 9am church.

Before this week we had church 1-4. What this meant is that the kids (Abby excepted) really didn't have time for a nap before church. They consistenly did have time to completely thrash the house and frequently cause me to draw errantly with eyeliner on my face. No, that's really not funny...it's horrible. Stop laughing.

Then, we get home from church and I'm making dinner in my church clothes as fast as I can so we can feed the masses and send them to bed before the atomic bomb that is overtired children goes off. So I'm stirring, I'm yelling no, take your church clothes off, I'm cooking, and yelling no fighting or hitting or even acting like you might fight or hit and PLEASE TAKE YOUR CHURCH CLOTHES OFF until the kids go to bed at like 5:30 or 6:00 and I collapse in a heap.

But not today. (She types with a supremely triumphant smile).

Today, because the children got up in the 6:00 hour, I had time to get everyone fed and dressed for church (including me) and we were early. During sacrament, only 1 out of 3 boys complained he was hungry and bored and could he please have a snack. And Abby fell asleep. It was like bliss. Plus, since we were the first ward in, the chapel was not yet 1000 degrees, so we sat comfortably in our church clothes instead of peeling them all off and sitting red faced and sweating in our back row pew.

Today, we got home from church before 12:30 and before 1:30 everyone was fed and in bed for naps. Everyone - Daddy and Sam included. And, as I post this, I'm sitting in a house that is as quiet as a tomb - except for the click clicking of the laptop keyboard.

Now, once everyone wakes up we can do happy family things. Eat dinner calmly and rationally and go to bed without tears or bloodshed.

I am in bliss.

I LOVE 9am church!