and other -isms

12, 14, 16, 18, 21

2011-11-28T07:18:00.001-07:00

For quite a while now, William has counted like this:
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 16, 18, 21, 22..." and then he sort of peters out.
He never deviates. He counts incorrectly the same way every time.

This morning, he and Abby were playing together and she was counting:
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 16, 18, 21, 22..."
His pattern verbatim.

Guess we know who taught her to count :)
Happy Monday.

Mischief and Mayhem

2011-11-16T23:50:00.001-07:00

A couple of years ago, I wrote a post called: Truth, Lies, or Dare - My 3 Sons. While it describes them when they were 5, 3, and almost 2, I think it is still a fairly accurate description of their personalities. At the end of the post I mentioned I wasn't sure what kind of child Abby would grow up to be. Hence the reason for today's post.

Today, as the mother of five, Truth and Lies spend nearly all day at school. And Dare (my beloved Will) has reached new pinnacles as Mischief. With his trusty sidekick Mayhem (Abby-my-name-is-Buttercup, MOM).

Mischief thinks up sparkly-eyed impish things to do. Mayhem makes them a reality...and more. Please note: the following are real-life examples of real-life mischief and mayhem wrought in my house.

Mischief: Wouldn't it be so fun to put everything in our room (clothes, blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, more clothes, and hey, even our mattresses) in a big pile in front of our bunk beds and play diving board?
Mayhem: Like this? (pushing mattresses) Help me! I'm only 2 and I can't push a mattress off the bunk bed by myself, honestly! Wait, no, it's my turn to jump first.

Mischief: Hey, wouldn't it be fun to go into Sam and Jake's room at 5 in the morning while they're sleeping and color with markers?
Mayhem: Only if we color on their bunk beds...and the walls...and in the bathroom...and behind the kitchen chairs...and on my face...and on your face...

Mischief: Daddy just got in the shower and Mommy's at work. Let's not watch the show Dad turned on for us...
Mayhem: Yeah, let's watch Barney! Daddy hates Barney! Barney Barney Barney! You're so smart and can use the wii-mote to change the Netflix show.

Mischief: Let's go outside and play and not tell anyone where we're going...
Mayhem: Only if we can dig in the dirt like we're not supposed to and throw it at each other - and only if I don't have to wear shoes in the 40 degree weather because I like it when my toes are red and freezing! And let's get the dogs out of the pen, too! And turn on the hose and make muddy holes and stand in them and throw mud at each other.

Mischief is finally turning the corner toward 5...which means he is nearing the end of random, uncontrollable destructiveness. But Abby is just reaching the summit. And the strange thing is, she seems to be having an out-of-body experience during the worst of it. If you watch her when she decides to color on the wall (or herself) it's like she just checks out. Then when you're like - "you colored on the wall!" she's like - "no I didn't" and genuinely seems to believe it. She seems surprised to see the coloring on the wall and even more surprised to see the offending writing implement in her hand. Maybe I'm raising a schizo?

And Mayhem likes to push the Mommy Mad Button. What button is that you ask? Let me explain. My boys have all gone through the ask me a million questions phase. It's a kid thing. I've caught on to that. This is my boys: "Mom, where are we going?" "To pick up Danny." "Why?" "Michelle and Joe are going on a date." "Oh, okay." The end.

But not for Mayhem. "Mom, where are we going?" "To pick up Danny." "Mom, where are we going?" "To pick up Danny." "Mom, where are we going?" "Where are we going Abby?" "I'm asking YOU!" Ignoring her is not possible either...because she just keeps asking it - like a literal broken record with someone devilishly turning the volume up every time. Until I can't handle any more - Mommy Mad Button - and I just yell something like - "TO THE MOON! Abby! WE. ARE. GOING. TO THE MOON!" "No, Mom, we're going to pick up Dan-Dan."

On a final note. The other night the kids were watching vintage Dennis the Menace on netflix. Dennis is being tucked into bed by his sweet mother Alice. With innocent eyes he asks her, "Mom, when you tuck me in at night why do you always say "Thank goodness" instead of "good night"?"

Mischief and Mayhem are tucked safely away for the night - Thank goodness.

We're Angry (Birds)

2011-10-29T10:36:00.000-06:00

For the first time in our ten year marriage, Steve and I dressed up for Halloween. And in honor of the occassion, spray-painted each other's hair green. For those of you who don't know, the kids are all angry birds (see here: http://www.rovio.com/en/our-work/games/view/1) and Steve and I are the pigs who build the fortresses to be safe from the birds who are constantly trying to kill them. (that's why they're attacking me in the bottom pictures)

Seems fitting, am I right? Special thanks to Auntie M who made the pig shirts. I'm sure Danny the yellow bird will make an appearance over here: http://madams2008.blogspot.com/ at some future date.

Happy Halloween!!

Pinewood Derby

2011-10-29T10:30:00.000-06:00

We had our first (of many, do doubt) Pinewood Derbies on Tuesday, October 25. The boy in the pack who is the youngest of 12 and whose father has assisted in the design/build of 20 derby cars won the night. But we were sure proud of our Sam!! And Steve and Sam are already planning for next year...I see a pinewood derby track being built here at the house somewhere in my future...

Pretty Curls

2011-10-29T10:27:00.002-06:00

Here's Abby right before our family photo shoot...after we put in her "pretty curls" and in the new dress she and Daddy found out shopping together. Here's a link to a preview of our family photos, taken by our good friend Laura: http://lauramorrisphotography.blogspot.com/2011/10/bunker-family.html

Uncle Stevie's Birthday

2011-10-29T10:21:00.002-06:00

The candles make XXV - happy quarter of a century Uncle Stevie!!

with grampa

2011-10-12T19:31:00.003-06:00

grampa came to visit!! we watched byu pull off a miracle victory over usu thanks to riley nelson's magical hair (only after we watched jj diluigi bash himself in the head with his helmet and curse on national tv.) we ate good food. grampa brought doughnuts. repeatedly. we played at the park. we watched conference. then mom, sam, and grampa went to slc to see the prophet speak for general conference. it was awesome. when grampa came back through p-town on the way to slc from st.g, will wanted to know where the doughnuts were. jake suggested later that since he has named grandma kay "grandma fun," we should call grampa "grampa donut!"

WE LOVE GRAMPA!! hurry back!

sam, jake, will, abby, luke, mom, and dad

and here's proof he was here -

Luke

2011-10-12T19:24:00.004-06:00

By far, the happiest part of my day!

except for just now, as I'm posting these and he barfs on my shirt.

nice.

love, m

ps - yes, it appears he likes to be under the couch. probably to do with the fact that he "crawls" backward better than he does forward.

The boy who wouldn't smile...

2011-08-12T15:06:00.001-06:00

Luke was my latest smiler. And when he first started, he would only smile for those who were really invested. A casual passerby wouldn't get a smile. But if he thought you were sticking around for a while, he might oblige. Now he's just the boy who won't smile for the camera. That little gray box pops up and the smile machine shuts down. No soul stealing here. Many many grumpy face shots were taking so you could enjoy these precious few...

Mini-Me

2011-08-12T15:03:00.000-06:00

Grandma and her mini-me.

Abby and Grandma Kay.

June 2011

The Fam

2011-08-12T15:01:00.001-06:00

This is us. Attractive, aren't we? Especially when "I don't like my church clothes." "I don't want to take a picture." "Why do I have to do this?" "I want to PLAY!"

and that was just Steve! :o)

Eight is Great!

2011-08-12T15:00:00.000-06:00

On his 8th birthday.

What did you do in St. G?

2011-08-12T14:56:00.002-06:00

We climbed a volcano.

Said Jake of the experience: "it was really long. and hot. and there wasn't even lava in it. next time, I'm not going. I'm staying home with mom."

Actually, it was a beautiful day, albeit windy. And the no-lava part was why they went anyway. Don't ask me to contemplate my bedlam-ites and molten fire.

May 30, 2011

Hair Did by Daddy...

2011-08-12T14:37:00.006-06:00

It's amazing what you can learn on youtube...Steve learned to french braid hair. Now if only he would watch the cooking programs, hmm... :)

Giving Up the Dr.

2011-07-28T19:22:00.008-06:00

Because I've done this five times in eight years:

I'm doing this: P90x

and giving up this:

so I can rediscover this:

and buy (and wear without a girdle) my favorite jeans, once again:

I'm a simple girl - exercising for jeans.

wish me luck. I'm going to need it.

my quads are screaming - wouldn't you like to be a pepper, too?

;) love, Me

I'm Alive...

2011-07-02T23:14:00.003-06:00

These pictures came on a sunny afternoon when all my kids played together - without fighting! I was standing in the kitchen making cookies when this song (I'm Alive) came on. I wish the pictures could capture the fact that the swing was swinging in time to the music and I could almost hear the whisper of heaven telling me that even though it's easy to dwell on the tough times...the things that matter most are always worth it.

First the pictures...as my mom would say, they're signed - "to meredith, love God"

Then the song...in case you haven't heard it. the video's kind of irrelevant.

Pictures Part V

2011-04-19T11:19:00.001-06:00

My Bedlamites. The End.

Pictures Part IV

2011-04-19T11:15:00.002-06:00

Luke - Jake - Abby - Will - Sam

Pictures Part III

2011-04-19T11:08:00.001-06:00

Luke 4/18

(can you tell which one Daddy took?)

Pictures Part II

2011-04-19T10:45:00.003-06:00

She's sassy...but she's cute!

Abby 4/15 and 4/17

Pictures Part I

2011-04-19T10:34:00.004-06:00

The worst picture taker in the world presents the following pictures of the cutest kids in the world...(not that I'm biased). The first in a series...

Luke (4/13)

introducing luke...

2011-03-26T13:52:00.002-06:00

for all his admiring fans...

Announcing...

2011-03-22T14:50:00.002-06:00

Luke Edward Bunker

born 3.22.11 2:00 pm

7 lbs 6 oz

19"

American Fork Hospital

and it came to pass...

2011-03-01T19:50:00.004-07:00

So this afternoon while her brothers played "let's take turns punching each other in the nose while we're supposed to be making our beds" Abby built a nest in the living room with her animals and Sweetie and got her favorite book out. She really likes this one because the little girl in it looks just like her. It's called "I Know a Rhino" (see preview pane below)

I stuck my head out of the kitchen just in time to hear her start reading the book. "And it came to pass..." she said. No joke. The cuteness of the whole thing makes up for all the pain of yesterday. Enjoy the pics.

and this little abby....

2011-02-28T19:00:00.003-07:00

...screamed all the way home. (but we'll get to that in a minute.)

Today was a whirlwind. Steve paid his ticket from the accident, I dropped of the last piece of my law school application, we went to the bank to get our loan for our the new BUNKWGN. We picked up Jake from school and then we headed up to Bountiful in Cocoa Puff (4 kids, 2 adults, honda accord, enough said) to get said BUNKWGN. Kids terrorized the place but somehow we still managed to get the guy to sell us the van. His office may never be the same.

Here's the scoop on the van (for those who like to know these things). It's a white (do they come in any other color?) Chevy 2002 Express 2500 with a 6 liter V8 engine. It has 27000 miles on it and the interior looks practically brand new. It was apparently the van that Jack Bauer and company didn't take out to blow up bad guys in. (No, really, it was a Fed fleet vehicle in a previous life.) It is also bi-fuel, meaning that it can run on natural gas (CNG) and on regular unleaded fuel. And the bi-fuel is OEM, so it came from Chevy that way and wasn't ghetto converted by somebody's shady brother in their backyard. The fuel automatically changes over, a phenomenon I experienced on the drive home...

when, after being in the car, the bank, the car dealership, and the car since 9am (it was now 1:15) this little Abby screamed all the way home. (here she is cute...this is the way we like to think about her...on the day when she couldn't stand to be the only Bunker not getting a haircut. I think I cut about 5 of the longest hairs on the back of her head. Steve couldn't even tell the difference.)

So she alternated between yell/moan/screaming "Mom" "Mama" "MOM-MAH!" "Mommy" and "I want to go to Old MacDonald's" "Please" "Please?!?" "Please!?!!!" And just flat out crying her eyes out. The whole way home. From Bountiful. For those of you non-Utahns, it was an hour drive. Comparable only to slow, spiraling, downward journey, with a long-lost Italian, to you-know-where.

When recounting the tale to his father, Jake mentioned that all he really wanted to do was go to sleep, but he couldn't because Abby kept begging for McDonald's.

Because the van is 12 passenger, I'm not sure who slept and who didn't. Those in the last two rows might just as well be in China somewhere. I think me and BUNKWGN are going to be good friends...

But we made it home, got Sam, went (at last) to Old McDonald's where all were satisfied with their fairy princess and race car toys, back to the bank, to Daddy's work, and then home. Where we all terrorized each other because we were, in reality, too pooped, to, well, you know...and then I whippped them all soundly (figuratively speaking, of course) and put them to bed.

PS - prego update. I can now not only not see my feet but at most points during the day (due to some bizarre-o pregnancy circulation thing) I generally don't feel them either. Heck, for all I know they fell off somewhere and the kids have been playing Star Wars with them. 21 days.

Love,

The many faces of Will...

2011-02-22T19:30:00.003-07:00

i love this boy.

i asked him if he wanted a brother for his birthday.

he said, "no mom. can we go to chuck-e-cheese instead?"

3.21.11 - chuck-e-cheese for will's b-day

3.22.11 - bunker5 b-day

the first face is the one the sunbeam teachers love. the second one is the one they fear - it means sunday clothes are coming off and flying their way. true story.

i think his shirt should say football or rugby, don't you?

And His Name Is...Saka!

2011-02-22T18:46:00.004-07:00

On Sunday, we picked up the most recent addition to our family. His name is Saka. (For those of you who don't get the reference, my boys LOVE Avatar: The Last Airbender the Nickelodeon cartoon - see here: http://nicktoons.nick.com/shows/avatar/) The brother on the show is named Saka and he and his sister are from the frozen lands. Since Saka is a white German, we thought the name fit.

Oh, you thought I was announcing the new baby? Sadly, no. We still have 28 days until Bunker5 (no, I'm still not revealing his name) arrives.

Here's a picture of Steve, Abby, Will, Georgia (our 9 month old German) and Saka (our 9 week old German). Georgia is a girl dog and Saka is a boy dog. On the way home from Draper, Jake kept saying, it's okay Saka, we're taking you to meet your new bride. The things that kid says.

Speaking of the car ride, Steve was driving our Accord (because our va

n was in accident and totaled V-Day weekend) and me and 3 of the kids were in it. Saka didn't want to be in the car. In fact, he went totally beserk-0 (also a Jake quote). I had him on my lap b/c my hips were ravaged from church and I couldn't drive the manual transmission b/c of the pain. (28 days. 28 days. 28 days. I have to repeat this to myself when it seems like pregnancy will never end).

Those of you who know me know I'm not a dog (or any animal) person. Wrestling this little fella was not a picnic for me. In the midst of the mayhem on the freeway (the kids were going at it in the back seat, too) Steve missed our freeway exit. The next exit results in at least a 10-15 min extension of the trip. Literally 3 miles from the house (after the detour) Saka decides to let me know why he's been hating me in the car.

AND HE VOMITS ALL OVER ME.

So, covered in dog barf with the kids yelling "ew gross" from the backseat, I'm begging Steve to roll down the window before I lose it. (Pregnancy and the sense of smell and my weak gag reflex not a good combo). By the grace of God I made it the last 2 miles home with my head out the window. We pulled up to the house and I got cleaned up. Saka seemed much better (must've been carsick or just stressed from the car) and met his "bride."

Here's a little video, for those of you who love my kids so much you'll be patient with the fact that it's pretty boring. Yes, those are my pregnant legs and yes that is my pregnant belly and yes (to all you boys I consistently refer to as Pills - you know who you are) I can still get bigger and probably will. (28 days).

Love to you all,

The Bunkers

Steve, Meredith, Sam, Jake, Will, Abby, Bunker5, Georgia, and Saka

ps - for those of you who wonder why a person who dislikes animals as much as I do has two dogs, look back up at the smile on Steve's face in the picture above. These are his dogs and he loves 'em lots. What can I say? I'd do just about anything for that man. :)

Where Abby Screwdriver?

2011-01-12T19:22:00.003-07:00

I think we've corrupted my daughter.

So tonight after dinner/bath Abby runs around the house saying "Where Abby screwdriver?" (Yes, she speaks about herself in the third person. Unless someone steals her stuff. Then it's - "THAT IS MINE!" Unless it's in nursery where, apparently, she is some kind of divinely angelic child whom I've never seen before who just lets other kids take what they want, rolls with the punches, very "mellow" about everything. insert eye-roll here. why are my kids rock stars for everyone but me? for me they're well, not angelic.)

But I digress. So, to my knowledge, Abby does not own a screwdriver. So I'm a little confused about what she thinks is a screwdriver and why she thinks it belongs to her.

Keep in mind that Abby calls things whatever she wants to call them - regardless of what they are actually called. One of her favorite movies is Tinkerbell. But she calls it Cinderella. Blatantly refuses to call it Tinkerbell. If you ask her if she wants to watch Tinkerbell, she says no, Cinderella. But if she asks for Cinderella and you should, ignorantly, put in Cinderella you will not be met with happy thanks. No, you will not. I don't think you will be met with any variety of thanks, come to think of it.

But I digress again. As I'm picking up toys and she's anxiously running around looking for her screwdriver, I finally hear this "I found it. (obvious relief in her 2 year old voice) Found Abby screwdriver. Mom. Mommy?"

She comes around the couch almost as we re-created it in the photo above, with her "screwdriver" safe and secure around her wrist.

But see, I can understand why she would be confused. First, mommy owns exactly one bracelet. She only wears it occasionally and when it is worn it is called a pretty because it sparkles. Sam owns a black silly band which recently broke, but I'm not sure Abby didn't think he was just wearing a hair tie - also called a pretty - around his wrist.

But in our house, tools (and light sabers) are paramounts to existence. So, it stands to reason that something important, that should be kept near to one's person, would be called a screwdriver. Even if it's purple, plastic, and actually a bracelet. Or a ring for attaching baby toys to a baby schlepper - but let's not split hairs.

Thankfully I named her new baby doll - Sweet (or Sweetie or Sweet Baby). Otherwise, it could've been Hammer Time or something.

Sic Semper Tyrannis

2011-01-04T20:31:00.003-07:00

So today Jake brought home a "My State Book" about Utah. It was nice. State flower, state bird, state tree, state animal, state song, state symbol. Nice.

I thought it would be cool for him to make one about Virginia. Call us crazy, but Steve and I are still in love with the homeland. Some of the stuff I already knew. State flower/tree - dogwood. State bird - cardinal. State animal - no state animal. We've got a state dog and oh, this is cool (thank you google) a state insect - the tiger swallowtail butterfly. (look it up.) State song - Carry Me Back to Old Virginny (the lyrics of which we will not be writing in the state book and it seems that state legislators have been looking to replace since the song hit emeritus status in 1997). State symbol - the great seal of Virginia (see left).

It is this great seal and the latin-eese written on it that prompt today's post. How would you explain this graphic to an interested five year old who immediately questions (especially when it is compared with the oh-so-industrious (and obvious) beehive) what is that lady doing? is that guy dead? why is she standing on him? Tyrannis? Like the dinosaur?

So, Sic Semper Tyrannis means - Thus Always with Tyrants. Which in five year old equals - Good Guys Always Beat Bad Guys. That lady is, yes, standing on that dead guy's body because she is the symbol of virtue - or the Book of Mormon word - righteousness - and he's well, dead, because he's the bad guy. Tyrannis means bad guys - kind of like Tyrannosaurus was a pretty bad dinosaur.

He's totally on board with this. Tells Sam all about it when he gets home from school. Side note: 5 year old latin is hysterical!

Then tonight during family scripture we were talking about how Alma's people (Mosiah 23) help the lost Lamanite army find their way home and then the Lamanites break their promise of freedom and set up guards around them and make this totally rotten guy Amulon the king over them. At the conclusion of the chapter - it's a cliffhanger - you don't know how this is all going to shake out. But I looked at Jake and I said, but what did we learn today about bad guys?

Good guys always beat bad guys with the Book of Mormon clarification - if and when they remember their God, keep the commandments, and say their prayers. And listen to their mom. In other words: And it came to pass - Sic Semper Tyrannis! Amen. (which incidentally the children have spontaneously decided to all say as Ah-men instead of AA-men. Not sure why.)

happy random tuesday. love, M

All I Want for Christmas...

2010-12-21T10:44:00.003-07:00

Sam had his two front teeth out today, so here's his Christmas greeting:

PS - the mustache was his prize pick at the dentist's office. I think it adds to the overall experience, don't you?

PPS - over a foot of snow today = happy kids :^)

Merry Christmas

2010-12-21T10:38:00.003-07:00

Here's our family Christmas photo. These days, it's about as good as we get.

Merry Christmas 2010!!

Love,

The Bunkers

Steven, Meredith

Sam (7), Jake (5), Will (3), and Abby (2)

A Poem (and a surprise)

2010-09-13T20:01:00.001-06:00

There was a young mother
Who lived in a house roughly approximating the size of a shoe.
She had four lively and clever children
And quite often had no idea what to do.

She fed them and washed them and put them to bed
But somehow
They wound up hungry and dirty and tired again.

There were days filled with chaos, laughter, and tears
Dishes, more dishes than could ever be counted
And laundry in piles that continually mounted
A wild ring around the walls at a consistent three feet
And something hiding in the back of the fridge that’s starting to stink.

But despite all the messes, despite all the fights,
Those four growing children were a daily delight.
They noticed the things she’d grown too tall to see
And reminded her of God’s love, his strength, and unfailing mercy.

It was in one of those moments
As she knelt by the bed
Begging God for more patience and more love in each day
That he whispered something quite unexpected instead.

“Don’t you feel it?” came the voice, quiet and pure
“Something’s missing,
“Someone’s missing
“What you need is one more.

“Here by my side is one noble and true
“Finished with those first lessons
“And waiting for you.
“Is your heart ready?
“Are your hands open?”
She heard the voice ask.

Then she turned her eyes heavenward
As if to ask are you sure?
She paused to gaze on each face before her,
Perfect and bright, whether angry, sad, or hungry,
They were her joy.

“But how?” she asked quietly
“I already have four.
“How can I do it
“When there is one more?”

The answer, unwavering had been as before
When she knew that her family still needed one more.
“My daughter, if you do as I ask
The blessings will come.
Starting, as you well know,
With the birth of this one.”

And so she said yes
And the man by her side,
Though puzzled as she was by the chaos wherein they reside
Trusted God when He said
One more needed to come

And so in springtime, dear family and friends
Another Bunker will be born.

Love,
Steven, Meredith, Sam, Jake, Will, Abby, and ?? (Mar 2011)

I'm so glad when Daddy is home...

2010-05-21T09:24:00.002-06:00

story time at Casa Bunker...and the boys in their Daddy nightshirts...

how does your garden grow?

2010-05-21T09:17:00.003-06:00

So, I'm in YW at church and I'm working on my personal progress (again). Oh, the irony.

So, one of my faith value projects is to plant, care for, and harvest a vegetable garden. In the 3 years we've lived in this house, I've wanted to do exactly that. But I just never have.

But this year, I had a reason. I thought and thought about what to plant. I'm the only one in our family who likes tomatoes. I'm the only one who likes squashy veggies. Are you sensing a trend, here?

So, I'm like, if I'm the only one who's going to even eat this stuff, why am I planting again?

Oh, yeah. Personal progress.

Then I had a brilliant idea. I like salsa fresca. For reals. I do. Who doesn't? So instead of the zucchini you can't make into bread because nobody eats it and then it's like 3 feet long and you can't even give it away...I've planted a salsa garden. Tomatoes, jalapenos, onions, and cilantro. It's in a 4 x 4 square.

My little helpers helped me prep the site last Saturday...My garden grows with kid-power! Wish us luck!

shorts...on my head

2010-05-21T09:16:00.000-06:00

When are shorts on your head not funny?

boys and their vehicles...

2010-05-21T09:11:00.002-06:00

The other days the boys were out in the yard. They collected all the neighborhood vehicles (bikes, push cars, etc) and lined them up and played with them. Our neighbor has one of those little kid bubble lawnmowers that my kids like to fight over. All of them. All the time.

Will was distressed that he wasn't getting his turn with the lawnmower. I reminded him there were lots of other vehicles to choose from....but that was not what he wanted to hear. Next thing I know, he's gone to the backest back of the back yard (behind the shed) and retrieved his Daddy's lawnmower and pushed it over the divets of our very bumpy backyard all the way to the front yard.

MY lawnmower. He announced triumphantly to his older brothers whose little bubble mower definitely paled in comparison. That's Will.

speaking of pretties...

2010-05-21T09:08:00.002-06:00

One morning I woke to find that Steven had done Abby's hair.

NICE.

She was the crankiest she's ever been that day. Seriously.

Bad hair days will do that to you.

Note to self: Daddy does not do hair... appropriately.

pretties in my hair...

2010-05-21T08:59:00.002-06:00

This is Abby dressed to impress for library day (hence the nametag). For those of you who don't know, Abby is not a fan of anything in her hair (we call them pretties). Many times I find she has ripped them out and eaten the little elastics in the car, leaving behind two massive pigtail bumps for when we go into the store. But here she is with some clips, looking very cute...

Oops...now she's discovered the clip...

and now she's bringing it to me...
"Mom, we talked about this..."

only my girl

2010-05-19T12:05:00.003-06:00

Abby is very nearly 17 months old. Can you believe it? I know, you can't believe it. You can't even imagine it really because it's been so stinkin' long since I posted a picture. I'm sorry. Old computer - new computer blues. Right now the old computer (the picture computer) is buried under an assortment of laundry - what surface of my house isn't? - as well as a vaccuum hose and who even knows what else. So, since a picture's worth 1000 words, I guess this post will have to be a couple thousand to make up for its picture-less-ness. And yes, that's a word - look it up.

Abby went to nursery on Sunday. God bless the nursery leaders they didn't say no. She is as big as a 2 year old after all - and she can stick up for herself. Steve dropped her off and she went right in. We lingered longer near the nursery hall (this is code for ditched Sunday School) and she never cried, they never brought her out. A friend of mine in the nursery said a little boy pulled her pigtail - she didn't even cry. She squawked at him, pulled away, and went and found another toy to play with. Steve picked her up smiling - albeit with disheveled hair - and happy. (no months of tears or mommy on a toddler chair for weeks - just a happy kid going to her class - where they have toys!) only my girl.

The other night she wanted to play with her brothers while I was making dinner. No dice. They wanted to play big boy games and she isn't. Big or a boy. So I brought a bucket of lego blocks into the kitchen and set her on the floor with them. This way she would stay by me and away from the big boys. She pulled the lid off and I waited for the inevitable. (that's the part when my boys dump the entire contents of the bucket on the floor.) Abby pulled each block out one at a time into a pile on the floor. Then she pulled out one of the lego men in his orange hard hat, looked up at me, smiled, and said, "baby!" She happily played with said insulted lego man for the entire time I made dinner. only my girl.

I took her crib apart last night. It's going to spend some quality time at Casa Adams. I put her on the crib mattress on the floor and prepared myself to pull up a rug while I laid by her and waited for her to fall asleep. That is, after all, the way I'd done it three times before. She thought since I was in there, we should play. I got up and went in the hall, preparing myself mentally for the 3000 return-her-to-bed trips I would have to make. But she stayed. I hope you understand the gravity of this - especially considering her older brother Will still thinks an unlocked door is an invitation to not be in bed. Sam and Jake must still get out of bed 1000 times to see what I'm doing, to get a drink, to go potty, and all the other things that are not GET IN YOUR BED! She STAYS!! It's like a miracle. A pink, pig-tailed, rosy cheeked miracle! only my girl.

Who knew pink could be so sweet?!

happy birthday, grandma

2010-03-30T16:14:00.003-06:00

"happy birthday to you.
happy birthday to you.
happy birthday, dear grandma.
happy birthday to you."

love, abby kate

little pink eating machine

2010-03-30T16:05:00.004-06:00

For those of you who don't know, my boys (specifically sam and jake) don't eat. oh, if it's a dessert, they eat it. but if it has anything smelly (garlic, onions) anything saucy (enchiladas, spaghetti) or anything in a strange form (not balled up hamburger that's on daddy pizza, but flat hamburger on a bun, for example) it will not be eaten. These are the words typically found in our house:

"Mom, what is that disgusting smell?"
"Mom, that smells gross, I'm not eating that."
"Mom, what's in that?"
"Mom, do I like that?"
"Mom, I'm not eating that."
"Mom, you know I don't like that, why are making that?"
"Mom, is that Daddy dinner or kid dinner?"
"Mom, is there kid dinner tonight?"

For the most part, I have to exempt Will from these protests, though that has been of little comfort given the fact that Will used to eat dirt wherever he could find it. So, the fact that he liked my cooking wasn't really saying anything.

So imagine my surprise at being the mother of a little pink eating machine. Her first time in a restaurant she INHALED an entire big kids size portion of mac and cheese. She eats pancakes two-fisted. The other night I made chicken pot pie, it was pooh-poohed by boys who went to bed without dinner because there was no alternative kid dinner that night, and she ate hers and theirs. In addition, Abby eats like she knows something we don't - like the end is near and this is the last decent meal she'll ever eat. To illustrate, some mac and cheese photos, a la Abby:

happy 3rd birthday will - part ii

2010-03-30T15:54:00.004-06:00

A crown, some presents, a bit with a cake, all these doth a birthday make!
ps - the crown was still in the car on sunday morning, so the birthday boy insisted on wearing it to Sacrament Meeting. I think Heavenly Father understands...

pps - right after the video stops, Will leaned down and licked the cake. guess that was his piece!

happy 3rd birthday will - part i

2010-03-30T15:45:00.003-06:00

Because Will's birthday was on Sunday, we celebrated in two parts. The first included going to Ogden Union Station (http://theunionstation.org) where they have a train museum...in a train yard...with real trains.

For those of you who don't know, Will loves trains. We regularly empty the train section at the children's library of all its books. He especially loves steam engines. Our original plan was to go to Heber to ride the train, but after discovering that they rarely give tours and most of the winter trains are diesel, not steam, we opted for the museum.

Steve and all the boys went (I got a call last minute to play for a funeral in our ward). As you can see, they had a great time. NOTE: there are a train bell - on the floor - in the museum. Apparently the boys were ringing the life out of it by the time Steve (and the ancient docents) got to the bell where the sign said: please don't ring the bell. Oh well.

And yes, Will is wearing a birthday crown. Happy Birthday Will!

sing me a song

2010-03-30T15:39:00.002-06:00

This is Abby's favorite perch at our beater piano where she likes to climb, even if the chair is pushed in and she is then wedged under the keyboard, and sing and play...

Shameless Plug

2010-03-03T09:00:00.002-07:00

Dear All-
I have a fabulous sister-in-law who is the craft goddess to my anti-craft. She is creative and talented. I am, well, creatively challenged. She designs and makes fabulous things. I dream about designing and making fabulous things and then wake up and remember, oh yeah, I'm creatively challenged.

And guess what? She's gone ETSY and now you can all partake of the goodness. Her things are one of a kind and guess what - she'll make them just for you. Go to her ETSY site

www.etsy.com/shop/mdjust4you

And if you see something you like order it. If you see something like something you'd like (it's just the wrong color or whatever) go to her blog http://mdjust4you.blogspot.com and leave a comment for her. And she'll get back to you.

Keep in mind, she's just starting out, so not all of her stuff is up yet. But check back often and you'll be glad you did!

Much love to you all!
(and a big whoop-whoop to Marianne, Crafting Goddess)

Meredith

ps - yes, Marianne, that was a whoop-whoop. I'm getting my Provo on, and all that. Wait until you hear me say mountain. UGH.

On the run

2010-02-25T14:21:00.002-07:00

Here's little video to show our little lady as she usually is - on the run! I'm not smart enough to rotate it, so I apologize for the crick in your neck caused from repeated sideways viewing.

ps - will thought he'd hidden the balloons from her...alas.

Little lady

2010-02-25T14:18:00.001-07:00

I woke up the other day and realized I'm losing my baby. We now have a little lady - 14 months tomorrow!

mom, fun dip is GOOD

2010-02-25T14:14:00.002-07:00

So in his valentine booty from preschool, Jake brought home fun dip. After a few false starts in the delivery system, he plunked himself on the dining room table, dyed his mouth and fingers green and proclaimed "Mom, fun dip is GOOD" Then he asked me if they had fun dip when I was little. Yeah, I answered. When Grandma was little? Probably not. That's too bad, because fun dip is GO-OD! I had to snap a picture.

my little valentine

2010-02-25T14:13:00.000-07:00

nothing says I love you like hearts and chocolate. xxoo

my piano

2010-02-25T14:08:00.002-07:00

so, Steve and I have been looking for a cheap, used (but playably in-tune) piano for our family. This search has been prodded along (and not gently I might add) my Sam who just have to have piano lessons - even if some girl at school told him they are only for girls.

so one night, I went into their room to find this creation on the floor. What is it? I asked. Jake answered, I made you a piano, mom! Thought it up and built it all by himself. We love Jake.

ps - as of today, we think we found one and will (hopefully) have it this weekend!

William Loves Trains (and Abby Godzilla)

2010-02-25T13:59:00.004-07:00

So, Will LOVES trains. This all started during the Christmas season and the daily viewing of The Polar Express. Now, any show that has a train in it is Will's favorite. We have train books, train movies, train everything. He even begs me to watch train videos on Youtube. For his birthday (3/21) I'm taking him to ride the Heber Valley Railroad - he can't stop talking about it. He asks me everyday when his birthday is. Here's Will playing with his geotrax trains while being attacked by Abby Godzilla - who just likes to tear things up!

Snow

2010-02-25T13:54:00.003-07:00

So this is the last snow I can remember us getting - it was in December. Now it rain-snows. That's right. Utah, land of the greatest snow on earth and it's been averaging about 40+ everyday. I probably jinxed myself when we bought snow gear for the kids for Christmas. Sorry Sam's sideways - but I had to include this picture - because SAM LOVES SNOW. If he could he probably would be up at Sundance or Brighton everyday with Uncle Stephen, where apparently they're getting the snow without the rain.

i get it, i get it - a picture's worth 1000 words

2010-02-25T13:51:00.000-07:00

after much prodding from grandmas - you know who you are - today was picture/video upload day. I hope you all appreciate the effort this took. See, I've converted almost exclusively to laptop, except for pix. Those go on the desktop. Which is, as you might guess, on the desk. Which is, as you might also guess, the dumping ground for virtually everything in my home. So, to upload pix, I had to clean the desk - to unearth the computer. So, yesterday was a cleaning frenzy and today you all reap the benefits - enjoy!

Off Topic

2010-02-16T20:30:00.002-07:00

So, as is our usual custom at casa Bunker, as I'm trying to feed, bathe, dress, and then dump my kids in bed by myself every night, I usually start making up silly songs - to pass the time, to move slow movers along, to quell the crying, and keep myself sane.

no - do not ask me why insanity keeps us sane. just accept that it does. i know i do.

be that as it may, i started singing an alphabet song to the tune of the dinosaur abcs for all you privileged enough to be familiar with the pbs show dinosaur train. it went like this...

"a for abby katie
b for bunker baby
c for cutie katie
d is for

at this moment my mind goes blank as to what d descriptor could be used for the beautiful child swimming away from me in the tub so in silliness i said...

d is for dog."

Will laughed. mom is so silly.
Jake laughed. seriously so silly.

Sam? Sam said and I quote: "Mom, that is off-topic."

The joys of the first grader.

I sang it again for good measure...mom is seriously so silly.

ps - for those of you who've seen the movie UP, may I just share: not long ago my boys looked out the back window and saw the neighbor's dog, Koda. They then said to me, "mom, why is Koda wearing the cone of shame?" to which I responded, "you know, I really don't know." Because really, can you imagine my boys repeating any explanation I could've given for neutering to people at church? REALLY?

abby loves brownies

2010-01-19T11:22:00.002-07:00

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

2010-01-06T20:46:00.002-07:00

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

2010-01-03T14:33:00.002-07:00

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!

Christmas Pics

2009-12-07T13:23:00.002-07:00

So, we all got dressed up yesterday.
Must've been all the snow clogging my brain, but we look cute, right?
(PS - Steve was cute too, he just didn't want his picture taken.)

Abby Walking

2009-12-07T13:16:00.002-07:00

So, Abby is desperately trying to learn to walk. (We're hoping that if she doesn't figure it out before Christmas, her 18-mo old cousin will show her the ropes.) She just gets so excited that she forgets that her head is the heaviest part of her body and that if she leans toward her target destination, she'll find it with her face. So, usually the color commentary play-by-play for Abby walking is:

She's standing. She's leaning. She's walking. She's walking. She's falling. Ooo-Oh! Uh, she fell. She's up!
(See video, below).

Christmas Pageant 2009

2009-12-07T13:00:00.003-07:00

So, Saturday night was our ward Christmas pageant. Jake was a shepherd (and his stuffed Bambi played a lamb), Will was a shepherd in training (meaning he wore the costume but for reasons having to do with his general speed, agility, and curious nature he was barred from being on the stage. He's two, right?), Abby was the tired baby in the hallway, Sam was a wise man (who was told to read his part slowly and then sounded like someone had dialed the speed down on an old turntable), Dad was with the tired baby, and Mom played the piano. Enjoy the pics.
(ps - the shepherd in blue on the left is Sam's friend David, and then the little random kid on the right is just a random ward kid we love named Blue).

For Eric: So Funny I Had to Share

2009-12-02T15:51:00.002-07:00

This is the muppets doing bohemian rhapsody. Frankly, it's hilarious. Though, let me say that if you don't know the original then maybe it isn't that funny. Smiles to you especially Eric!

First Day of Preschool

2009-11-17T14:49:00.003-07:00

Jake got one of the few coveted Title I spots in the district preschool. We have a lady in our ward who called us to tell us that there were only a few spots and would my Jake be interested. Uh, wait let me think about that - free preschool, four afternoons a weeks, and they bus? Am. I. interested? Yeah. So we ran and got the paperwork and he got tested and Monday the school bus came to pick up my big boy who looked so little climbing up the steps to get on the bus. His teacher is Miss Brenda and he LOVES school. Although he is wearing the Bumblebee shirt under his cookie sweater - to help him be brave.

Note, the dog sitting in our yard in the picture of Jake getting on the bus is not our dog. It's Libby the next door neighbor's dog. All the bliss of dog ownership without the stress and the poop detail. Let me just say though - Koda LOVES Will. He also tried to get on the bus to preschool, but like Mary's lamb, had to hang out at home with the rest of us. Enjoy the picture of Koda and Will, too. Also, Abby hates Koda and screams like he might be trying to eat her everytime she sees him.

Abby Lou Who

2009-11-17T14:44:00.003-07:00

So, I'm usually not much for torturing pigtails into Abby's hair. Neither is she for that matter. In fact, she screams like a banshee if you start acting like you might be thinking about touching her hair. Usually she just looks sort of McCartney-esque circa 1964. But then I gave her a toothbrush to play with and turned her into Abby Lou Who. Isn't she cute?

Payback (or We Need a Marianne, Stat!)

2009-11-17T14:33:00.002-07:00

So, 11/11 which was, incidentally Veterans Day, was also the Thanksgiving Feast at Sam's school. For two weeks he's been telling me this. Telling me he was a Native American (not an Indian) and that his Native American name would be Blue Horse, which wasn't really as cool as his friend's name - Arrowhead. Notes came home from the teacher hinting that there would be some costuming for the Feast, but the only instructions involved Sunday shirts for the pilgrims. Seeing as Sam was a Native American, I thought I was off the hook.

Then, morning of, Sam comes screeching into my room insisting he must have a costume for the Feast. WHAT?!?!?! I yell. I've asked you everyday for two weeks if you need a costume and you've said no. Needless to say I was being paid back for the all times I announced to my mother at like 11:30 pm that some major league project was do the next day and oh, I don't have any poster board.

So, drawing upon what little creativity courses through my veins (it's definitely not life sustaining) I channeled my inner Marianne and the memories I had of Thanksgiving feasts of yore and cut and taped a brown paper grocery sack into a Native American vest and tied it with Will's bootlace. (Have I mentioned that I'm usually allergic to craft-oriented activities? They make me break out in multi-syllabic cursing and encourage the invention of new phrases and words.) But we survived. The thing looked vest like and didn't fall off. Then Sam decorated it with Dakota symbols. (Apparently we have a budding Robert Langdon among us) and then insisted I draw on his face. My markers, paint, and virtually every other craft supply I own is trapped in the garage. So I used black liquid eyeliner. The result was a cross between an outfielder and a catholic on Ash Wednesday (it's supposed to be a triangle and line a Dakota symbol for something - ask Robert (I mean Sam)) - in a brown paper sack.

enjoy!
ps - I love you Mom! and Marianne!

Halloween

2009-11-03T10:42:00.002-07:00

Our little transformers - Megatron, Bumblebee (Mom, I'm wearing my bumblebee shirt under my costume), and Optimus Prime!

The fairy princess. Mad props to Trish who made the skirt. The headband barely survived the pictures and the shoes didn't last much longer. Have I mentioned Abby hates shoes? Wonder where she gets that from?

Sam had a costume parade at school and couldn't wear his transformer mask. So he was harry potter. cute, eh? He did have a scar, you just can't really see it here. His dad also found him a wand in the backyard which completed the ensemble.

Autumn Leaves

2009-11-03T10:29:00.004-07:00

Happy Abby and friends in the autumn leaves.

And this shot courtesy of budding photographer Jacob, who said: "I told you I wouldn't drop the camera!"

Family Pictures, Take 2: The FAM

2009-11-03T10:24:00.003-07:00

So, here's the family pictures. Contrary to the evidence provided below, we really do know how to smile. Just not all of us, all at the same time. Gmas, if you want copies, just let me know.

Family Pictures, Take 1 - The Boys

2009-11-03T10:05:00.003-07:00

So, not long ago, we rousted Joe and Michelle out of bed on a Saturday morning and attempted to take some family pictures. This is the first set - all boys. Aren't they cute?

x

Naughty and I Know It...

2009-11-03T09:54:00.003-07:00

Here's some pictures of the little princess climbing on Mommy's desk. She knows she's not supposed to, especially since the keyboard tray which she pulls herself up on rolls out. OUCH! But, she knows the mystical secret lies on that tray, in the drawer, and if she could ever crest the summit on top of the desk itself. I mean, really, if Will consistently gets in trouble for being up there - it must be where the good stuff is. Enjoy!

They are ONLY GREEN BEANS!

2009-10-23T19:59:00.002-06:00

When I was a kid - back in the dark ages - kids had to stay at the table until all their food was gone. No arguments or discussions. I consulted with my husband - same thing at his house. You were not excused from the table until you finished everything on your plate. I don't ever remember a time when I tried to test out what would happen if I simply refused. I was a kid who didn't really like punishment of any kind and tried to avoid it at any cost. So I ate...everything on my plate.

Now, I'm sure I didn't do it quietly. I probably whined like crazy about whatever horrifying vegetable had managed to land on my plate. But I ate it. And actually the only thing I really remember having to eat that made me absolutely sick to eat was chicken divan.

Never heard of it? Oh, you're lucky. Chicken divan is this weird sort of chicken, cream of chicken soup, broccoli, and cheese casserole concoction. The broccoli is slimey and it make everything else in the casserole taste like slimey broccoli. I remember the only way I could force it down was to wash every bite down with kool-aid. Which, God bless my mother, she always offered as a way to get through the hard meals. (for another friend of mine it was ketchup.)

But I digress...

As I speak, I am in the middle of a showdown with my four year old. I made roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, and GASP! green beans for dinner tonight. All at the table were happy for this meal, but Jacob was not...

"I don't like roast beef. You know I don't like roast beef." (this coming from the child who devours with world record speed "daddy pizza" which has ground beef on it. seriously.)

Okay, I cave, you only have to eat mashed potatoes and green beans. (we're not even going to talk about my children's bizzare aversion to sauce - of any kind)

It is now after 8, dinner was served at five, and said child is still wandering around the table crying:

"I don't like green beans. I tried one and it was not good. I'm not even hungry. I want to go to bed."

See, my husband and I decided to go old school - make him stay at the table till he finished eating. Only he must think we're bluffing.

He continues, through tears and a tissue...

"This was a stupid idea. Who's stupid idea was this? I don't even like stupid greens beans. I can't eat this. I can't. I CAN'T! I CAN'T DO IT! I'm not even hungry. I want to go to bed. Can I please go to bed? I'm not having a good time. This is stupid."

NOTE: this child also hates going to bed. Even when he's so tired he can barely stand, he will still refuse to go to bed. And he's begging for bed. Also, stupid, to Jacob, it like a four letter word. So, he is, in actuality, cursing at me in a way. Lastly, he must be where he can see me at all times to ensure that I can hear his rantings, know how stupid this all is, and potentially cave.

I am reminded that when we first tried to get this child to sleep through the night, he would cry and cry until we came for him. HOURS. When we did come for him, he'd stop and we'd rock him and put him to bed. The next night, he would cry for the exact same amount of time it took us to break the night before and then fall asleep exhausted. We found out he was just breaking us - timing us and waiting us out. Did the same thing with nursery.

But I digress, again.

Seriously, they're just green beans. GREEN BEANS!!! Not a shred of chicken divan in sight.

Seriously.

New Clothes...Photo Shoot

2009-10-08T15:21:00.004-06:00

So, with the changing of the season, Abby got new clothes. Thanks Grandmas! Abby doesn't like to put clothes on...it's like a WWF match to try to get her dressed - especially for church where there are multiple layers and various and assundry "piece parts" as my mother would say. So, I dressed her, undressed her, and redressed her for her too-cute 9 month photo shoot. Also be aware that Abby won't sit for pictures. You set her down, she flops over and makes a mad dash for the camera - must investigate. That, coupled with my definite lack of picture-taking skills, made for an interseting photo shoot to say the least. The entire experience was topped off by big brother Will who disappeared for a few minutes (not a good sign) then reappeared saying, "I a sick boy," and then threw up. Such are the days of my life...

Abby is also really into patty cake, as seen in the photo and the video. Sorry I shot the video sideways, but you know.

PS. As I post, Sam is reading his take home book, Will is destroying his brother's homework, and now Abby has thrown up. Have I mentioned, I need a vacation from barf?

And then Soccer!

2009-09-28T14:04:00.003-06:00

On the heels of Black August and Sam starting full-day first grade at a new school, we also started Sam and Jake's first soccer season. We've all spent two (sometimes three) nights a week and Saturdays at games and practice. The last games (not that I'm counting down or anything) are Oct 6-7. Here's my Silver Knight and my Green Goblin. (PS the Green Goblin wears his lucky bumblebee shirt under his jersey to every game - it makes him brave!

Black August

2009-09-28T13:51:00.002-06:00

So, August 2009 will forever be known as Black August. In addition to turning thirty, Will made 5 trips to the doctor (including an ER visit), and I spent over $200 in doctor-related fees. UG! The last time I was in at the doctor, I asked if I could get a punch card - you know, four visits and the fifth is free? Here's the play-by-play:

August 4: After two weeks of grungy green nose, I took Will to the doctor - sinus infection.

August 6: On the way home from a bike ride, Sam crashed his bike into a tree limb that was secretly hiding a very large (about the size of a gallon milk jug) hornet's nest. Black hornets. Darth Vader Bees of Death. He got stung several times and so did I in our frantic run home. After immediately getting him some benedryl (to ward off the swelling) I went outside to help Steve with the bikes, etc. While gone, Will drank and/or poured the rest of the benedryl out. The pediatrician didn't answer the phone, so I called poison control for advice. They booked Will a room at the ER. Two hours later - the ER doctor confirmed that while caution was to be lauded, there was absolutely nothing wrong with him.

August 23: After another few days of fever, stomach pain, and general yuckiness, I take Will back to the doctor. They think he might have appendicitis. While he lays semi-conscious in my lap they do a blood draw and other yucky tests to tell us he has, instead, a virus. Lucky no surgery. Unlucky - no treatment.

August 27: After telling the boys to stay out of the closet in Uncle Stephen's recently vacated room, they all went (of course) straight for it. In so doing, Sam ran Will's pinky finger over with the mirrored closet door. Huge gash - all across the knuckle. I can't get it to stop bleeding, so we go into the doctor for a super-glue-ing and a blue splint. (see photo.) In addition, he was supposed to keep the dressing on (and clean and dry for three days). Needless to say, we had to get additional new dressing materials after his foray into the neighbor's recently delivered top soil.

August 31: After suffering from raging allergies, Sam rubbed pink eye into his eyes. Both. And then shared with the rest of the kids. YES!

Now you know why I went mysteriously Blog-silent.

I Must've Done Something Good...

2009-09-21T13:59:00.002-06:00

*Note to all: this is a picture-less post. Not because I don't have pictures to post, just no time to post them.*

So my Mom often tells me to pay attention to those songs that randomly go through your head. Not the ones that were on the alarm clock this morning (don't ask me when the last time I used an alarm clock was - 4 kids, enough said) or the songs that you've absorbed into your subconscious from your children's preschool programming (Veggie Tales is a big culprit of this at my house). No, the songs that just arrive in your head, you find yourself humming and singing and if you're not paying attention come and go before you're even aware that they're there. (homophone.)

So, Friday afternoon I was freakishly cleaning my house. We'd gone for too many days of sick and tired, followed abruptly by an emergency call from my office. The house was a pit. So, freakishly I moved from room to room scouring. The crowning achievement for any and all who have ever been to my house was that I MOPPED THE KITCHEN FLOOR. On my hands and knees - with a scrub brush. It was a miracle. As I'm scrubbing, I realize I'm humming. As I'm humming, I stop to identify what I am humming.

<> "Perhaps I had a wicked childhood. <> Perhaps I had a miserable youth. <> But somewhere in my wicked, miserable past, there must have been a moment of truth.

For those of you non-musical people, this is a song from The Sound of Music. It's the song Julie Andrews sings to Christopher Plummer after she decides she doesn't want to be a nun, she wants to be his wife, and the mother of his 7 children.

So now, as the dutiful daughter. Why was this particular song in my head, I wondered. Please note that at this moment of scrubbing all of my children were taking a nap, as was my husband, except Sam who was at school. As I pondered this random song, all I could think of was how true it was for me.

Despite all the young women's leaders who thought me impossible and washed their hands of me, despite all the horribly awkward and other totally punky moments in my life, I must've done at least five good things. For in my life I have four little people and one big person who are "standing here loving me, whether or not they should." As I pondered this random song, I suddenly, in the midst of my mopping felt very, very blessed.

Thank heaven for Moms.

July Already?

2009-07-06T08:24:00.005-06:00

In case you've wondered where we've been the last month - see here: http://www.landcruiserchronicles.blogspot.com/

We also went to St. G-

Father's Day - St. George Temple.

And Abby - SIX MONTHS!

Five Months...and Six Years

2009-05-29T15:38:00.003-06:00

So, it's been a while, but here's our bit of an update...

Abby is now five months old! Still a growing girl, she's decided to (finally) roll over, has cut two teeth on the bottom and her daily drool output tells us she's working on the two on the top, and she's decided sitting up is for the birds - I want to CRAWL! She is still our little Abby Kate - with the sweetest smile!

The boys continue to prove my daily handful. Will decides every coupla days to "potty train" which usually involves removing his diaper himself at what must be the single most inconvenient time of my day. Like when I'm on the phone, or making lasagna, or mopping. You know, when it's difficult to put down what I'm doing and chase the streaker. Jake is my big boy and my big helper. This morning while they watched their cartoons, Jake laid down on the floor next to Abby and just held her hand while they watched tv. Too cute. He's still making stuff up, including new, never before seen signs in sign language. (Sam is actually learning sign in school and uses real sign. Jake just makes them up to serve his own purposes.)

And Sam. Turning 6 on Sunday, Sam just finished kindergarten. He got the "Super Friend" award and his teacher told me that in her 20+ years of teaching she's never had a student as polite as Sam. Enjoy the video of his class signing and singing Happy Birthday - that's his teacher, Mrs. Pond.

what did you get your wife for mother's day?

2009-05-12T09:36:00.008-06:00

Many people asked Steve this question when he arrived at church on Mother's Day without his family. He answered: "I let her take all four of the kids to St. George for the weekend."

And it's true. We spent Mother's Day (the kids and I) with my grandparents in St. George and we had a fabulous time! The kids discovered a new park and Grandma and Papa got to meet Abby. The car trips (going and coming) were not nearly as bad as they could have been, thanks in part to Abby's overall good nature and the effect of Jenny Oaks Baker on her - calms her right down! God bless Jenny Oaks Baker.

Below are some pics of the kids with Grandma and Papa - playing tic-tac-toe and marbles.

junk drawer

2009-04-22T20:18:00.007-06:00

Okay, it's been a while since the last post, but, in my defense, my week blew up last week. It started late Sunday evening with a call from the office that turned into be pulling out some pretty intense hours in only a few short days.

Be that as it may, we'll start from Easter and work our way forward. Easter was pretty low-key at Casa Bunker. We don't Easter Bunny, but we had a special Family Home Evening (on Sunday morning, I know, we're weird) on Easter. When asked the question "why doesn't the Easter Bunny come to our house?" I simply answered, "because Mom called him and asked him not to come." My kids are little, this is working for now. Next year, they'll probably ask me where I found his phone number.

Anyways, so Easter I dressed the kids up and attempted to take pictures. (They follow, don't worry, but hold on.) We're out in the front by the tulips (those bad boys have had a tough go - 70's, snow, 70's, snow, repeat.) So Will doesn't want to take pictures, he's two, do you blame him? The only time he wants his picture taken is when I'm trying to pose Abby. Anyways. So, he decides in the middle of the "shoot" that he's had ENOUGH of pictures and takes off running down the street.

We interrupt this story to mention that my neighbor a few houses down fertilized his grass the day before Easter. He used REAL fertilizer. You know, the kind that comes out of the south end of an animal. Yeah. Nice.

We rejoin our story with Will tearing off down the street toward said fertilized yard. Now, anyone who knows Will knows that if you chase him he runs faster AND that if he runs faster he is at any moment going to fall down. probably face first. Are you getting the visual here?

So here's Mommy trucking after Will shouting, NO!! As I see him giggle with the joy of the chase, heading straight for, to put it bluntly, a yard full of crap. Thankfully, he took his header about three inches before the yard and I grabbed him before he nose dived (in his church clothes). PHEW!

So, pictures commenced for a few more minutes and then we finished getting ready for church and Sam, Jake, and I went to choir. We're about to go into the chapel to practice when someone pulls the fire alarm. I must say that in my almost 30 years as a church member I have never experienced that. So we had choir practice outside while my kids camped out to "keep watch" by the fire trucks.

Life has progressed steadily since then, with Steve taking finals, Sam having spring break, us registering the kids for soccer, Abby teething, etc. Now, since you've been so patient, here's the pictures and some funnies for each of the kids. Much love, MDB
SAM
Down to only the last month of school, Sam has recently come home decorated with Farrer Elementary PE Student of the Year for his kindergarten class. He got a big purple ribbon he's very proud of. I think after this photo shoot I've decided he's too big for the "potty stool." But notice his untied shoes - this is their perpetual state - and what's left of the oh-so-gnarly bruise on his right cheek. He fell in the shower two weeks ago and is still getting over it. When it first happened it looked like he'd been bludgeoned in the face with a 2x4. This is the only picture from the day where he doesn't look like he's being pinched. Will calls Sam "ding-dong" which is short for "Sam-a-lama-ding-dong." Thank you, Uncle Ryan.

JAKE
When I asked Jake recently how he knew something, he answered seriously, "Because I'm smart." I confirmed that, yes, he was, and he added, "I'm even smarter than the bear on tv, Mom." (Referring to Special Agent Oso the bear on the Disney Channel. I think Will is probably smarter than the bear on the tv, hence we've stopped watching that show.) Jake finally decided he likes his new primary teachers - Michelle and Brother Michelle. (They are lovely people and I think they have a last name and Brother Michelle is actually Preston.) His most commonly used phrase of the day is "I'm hungry" followed directly by "Mom, I think I'm going to skip my nap." He has also learned to say "Dang-it" with the same emphasis as the person who taught him to say it. Thank you, Uncle Joe.

WILL
You can tell by the look in his eyes he's going to bolt, can't you? Will runs from the moment he gets up until the moment he collapses in bed - usually under duress. He's obsessed with busses and since about 100 school busses go down our street everyday and we're in a city with three times that many city buses, I spend a great deal of my day nodding and saying, "yes, a bus." Or, yes, a helicopter. Or, yes, an airplane. Or, yes, the garbage man. I think I can safely say we've got transportation covered. He also says bandit when he means band-aid and whenever he sees someone without a shirt on (like runners/bikers) he yells NUDE-Y BOOD-Y! Which is, you know, fun, when the topic of dicussion can hear him. And oddly enough the words stinky and cookie sound a lot alike. I'll let you ponder that one.

ABBY
Okay, this face just makes my day. I don't know how I won the baby lottery, but I did. This girl is the sweetest baby who sleeps practically on-command. She is ready with a smile, even when she's tired or hungry - which is funny sometimes because she's crying and then you talk to her and she starts to smile and then she remembers she's mad and forces herself to cry again. My most commonly used phrase around Abby is "I've got SOOOOOO much honey, the bees envy me. I've got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees. I guess, you say, what can make me feel this way? ABBY!" I painted her toenails now that it's warmer. Now she can have cute feet, since she won't keep socks on. I swear, she has 20 left socks.

And finally, the gang.
PS, Daddy took this picture, which is why the VAN and not the tree/flowers is in the background. Don't we have a very nice van?

the new columbo: two boys and a fridge

2009-04-11T15:45:00.008-06:00

Okay, so our fridge is a little bit broken. I know, I know, how can something be a little bit broken? Easy. It's not dead. If it was dead it would be all broken. It's not. It's fixable. Potentially. Maybe. So it's little bit broken.

As such, we've moved everything from the little bit broken fridge in the kitchen to the totally fine (and much bigger and nicer fridge) in the garage. Life goes on. Kind of pain when you're pouring a bowl of cereal though. Steve unplugged the inside fridge to maybe relieve some of it's brokenness and maybe restore it to life while we wait for the landlord to come "have a look."

Why can't we just move the outside fridge inside, you ask? Good question. Here's the answer: the inside fridge is a transplant from Munchkinland. It has to be because of the giant (and totally useless) cabinet that hangs over it. The standard American-sized fridge in the garage won't fit under the cabinet. Have I mentioned it's useless?

Why can't my oh-so-handy husband remove said useless cabinet and bring in the good fridge? Also a good question. Here's the answer - because the cabinet has fused with the wall. Since it's been here since the house was built, it was probably built into the wall. I wouldn't know how to take it down and Steve looks up at it, shakes his head, and says, "it's not my house."

So, an empty, open-doored fridge in the kitchen is bound to spark childhood curiosity. Detectives Sam and Jake are looking into the fridge to identify what exactly is making the fridge broken.

And here's a delighfully random video clip of the boys' looking for clues, pondering the evidence (with a banana and a Star Wars X-wing fighter in hand - of course!), and posing a hypothesis. Hope you enjoy the "AH-hA!" moments as much as I did.

when life gives you dirt

2009-04-07T13:15:00.003-06:00

Everyone has heard the expression: when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. I've got one better:

when life gives you dirt - grab the hose and dance in the mud!
Enjoy the following slideshow of Sam, Jake, Will, neighbor Libby, and cousin Caroline.

God made dirt, and dirt don't hurt, right?

Note: I have not included the truly horrifying pictures of my kitchen en route to my bathroom. It's better to enjoy the mud and not the clean up - eh? I would. But I'm the mother...I guess I get - when life gives you mud, you find the soapy water, and quick!

abby kate and her bff

2009-04-04T09:01:00.004-06:00

In most texting short hand, BFF would be best friend forever.

In Abby's case, it's "big freakin' flower." Daddy thinks it might be too big - it is almost the same size as her head - but you have to admit, it's pretty cute.

She's afraid of the flash, so I have to turn it off - which leads to fuzzy pictures. Plus, this morning only Jake could make her smile- that's why she's looking at him and not the scary silver box. The last picture (with the flash on) show's how blue her eyes are - still!

Enjoy!

sam's international night

2009-03-30T09:32:00.003-06:00

Last Thursday night was International Night at Sam's school. Each grade represented a country. The kindergarten was Mexico. As part of their presentation, they did a little dance. (See video below.) Before the dance started, Mr. Dowdle, the principal, was having some trouble getting everyone to settle down. He told everyone who could hear him to raise the 2 finger quiet sign. Here's Sam in the sea of kindergarteners holding up his two fingers. We love Sam.

Then followed the dancing. Sorry this file is big. What you really want to watch for (Sam is in the last row, center) is when we "sing as we're swaying." Sam has his arms locked in the Hitch-approved position and sways his little hips for all he's worth. The file's kind of big and I've never uploaded video before, so hopefully everyone can see it.

Special thanks to Cherish for taking the video and remembering her camera - even when Mom forgot!

we had our easter lesson early

2009-03-24T13:12:00.002-06:00

So, our dog Maisy died this morning. This was definitely not the course I thought we were headed for when Steve, Jake, and Will drove to Paul, ID to pick Maisy up last Thursday. I was actually more concerned about how to keep the puppy from eating the kids' shoes that are constantly strewn all over the backyard.

Turns out the poor little thing came to us with some sort of intestinal puppy virus. She was calm at first and then turned to lethargic, then depressed. It was very sad.

So this morning, we had our Easter lesson early. My three little brown eyed boys sat on the couch while we talked about Jesus, death, and resurrection. They nodded at all the right moments, wondering why we were having family home evening in the morning, on a Tuesday.

The rest is all very sad, as my boys realized at different moments that death is real and Maisy is the one who is dead. The details make me cry, but suffice it to say that as we buried Maisy in the backyard and placed "popcorn popping" blossoms over the dirt, Sam prayed the most heartfelt prayer I've ever heard through his little five year old tears.

"Dear Heavenly Father, please watch over our puppy, Maisy."

Even though it seems like such a small thing, I am so very grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who gave us the gospel, taught us to pray, sent us His son, and put things like popcorn trees on the Earth to remind us that even though things die, in the spring they always rise again.

daisy head maisy

2009-03-21T14:50:00.003-06:00

Will's birthday puppy - Maisy. Any guesses on what kind of puppy she is? She has webbed feet - so that makes her a water dog of some sort.

So far, she isn't driving me crazy yet. So far.

my girl

2009-03-18T21:25:00.003-06:00

Some things about my girl:
1. She won't smile at you unless you talk to her first. She will also accept a song for a smile.

2. She enjoys her beauty sleep. (sometimes 12 hours at night - must be why she's so pretty.)

3. She squeals. None of my boys have ever reached her high notes.

4. She is very patient. But when she's done waiting, she's done. She wants food NOW! (Just ask the ladies in my Relief Society on Sunday.)

5. She has beautiful blue eyes. And when her hair is clean it's spiky. But don't call her spike (or chubby) - she is a lady after all and she doesn't like it.

Only When You're the Mother of Boys...

2009-03-10T20:25:00.004-06:00

So, Uncle Joe and Aunt Michelle came over tonight. Poor things, they came to the late afternoon craziness of Casa Bunker - the kind that few survive. The boys had been attempting to build a club house out of the couch cushions (and all their toys, because really what would a club house be if one didn't have ALL their toys inside to play with, right?)

After we all ate dinner and the boys taunted Joe about fighting him for the cantaloupe, it was time for Bunker boys play time. For those of you who haven't yet experienced this first hand, it can only be described as loud. Very loud. Rowdy. Very rowdy. Borderline dangerous rowdy. Excited screams of joy and delight are often punctuated by screams of pain as jumping boys miss and hit someone or something.

...As a side note, we have a little friend who sometimes stops by in the afternoon to join in the madness. He's the same age as Will and is (for now) an only child. He is very quiet and generally content to sit in his mother's lap. However, one evening after spending some quality time in Bunker boys play time, he climbed up on his couch at home when his Dad came home from work and, standing tall and proud demonstrated the proper technique for jumping off the couch. Complete with whooping. So, yeah, my kids teach other kids bad things...

So, usually the game with Uncle Joe is "see who can run away faster while Joe throws balls at us." The other day they played Sam got pegged in the face, so I think the game has sort of lost its appeal. Anyways.

Tonight someone got the brilliant idea to put Matchbox cars on the ceiling fan blades. This is really nicely facilitated by big, tall, Uncle Joe (6'5"). So, the boys took turns gathering up all the vehicles they could find (including the GeoTrax vehicles which are rather large) and piling them up for Uncle Joe. Then, with precision that would've made the Mythbusters proud, Uncle Joe systematically lined them up on the fan blades to see how fast and how far they would fly once the fan was turned on.

Somehow, Aunt Michelle, Mom, and Abby - all sitting in the path of danger - managed to come through unscaythed. Interestingly enough, so did the boys. I kept waiting for the Matchbox ambulance to take someone's eyes out, but I guess for once we managed to stay out of the "one last time" window my Mom was always telling us about - the window where someone is guaranteed to get hurt. And of course it was an accident. **Love you Mom!**

Anyways. Only with boys. I wish I'd gotten a picture of their excited dance as they waited to turn the fan on and then their dance with near death and destruction as they waited for the cars to rain down on them. Complete with Daddy-sized nightshirts hanging loose on their little boy bodies. Oh, and Will was only wearing a diaper. What can I say?

Have I mentioned, I love my boys? And Abby, I love her too.

PS - we love Uncle Joe and Aunt Michelle, too!

Freedom!

2009-03-09T20:41:00.002-06:00

Okay, so the past few days have been cause for a celebration at Casa Bunker. You may wonder why, given the fact that late last week I spent a whole night rocking Will in front of the vaporizer, followed by a whole morning at the pediatrician getting shots and breathing treatments for croup, followed by, um SNOW in March, and more sick kids. Followed by Sunday in our oh-so-incredibly-massively-and-terribly-HOT (like fire and brimstone hot) chapel wrestling with four kids.

BUT CELEBRATE WE MUST!

And why? Because in my former life, my pre-Ned Bushnell life, I would've been popping massive doses of motrin, icing my shoulder, and being in blinding pain. I never had shoulder pain, really, until I had kids. Then hauling and wrestling these little sweethearts aggravated a condition that could be described as brusitis, tendonitis, and chronic impingement. Take your pick. What it means is that my shoulder joint is massively inflamed which means - it hurts, like crazy. So I say things like "hey, doc, my shoulder hurts when I ____" and Doc says, "then stop ____", then I say, "no can do because _____ is a critical part of my life, i.e., carrying my child, bathing my child, feeding my child, etc., my child." So, the past six years have had some pretty painful moments. Moments painful enough that I avoided whatever tasks I could that would aggravate the shoulder.

BUT NO MORE!!

Because now I am in my post-Ned Bushnell life. And for those of you who don't know, Ned is my PT. I love Ned for several reasons First, he and his team of lovely BYU PT students give my 90 minutes of pampering attention - moist heat, ice, stretching, and I can't bring the kids! (hee-hee!) Well, Abby's come a coupla times, but she's not trying to search and destroy the premises.

Another reason I love Ned? Every week he gets all excited about the progress I'm making! I leave PT feeling like superwoman because I'm progressing so much faster (like 80% faster) than other people with my diagnosis. So, for the girl who can't make good progress on diet, exercise, homecleaning, scrapbooking, cooking, or virtually anything else I try, this is a huge thing. Have I mentioned I love NED?!

So now, after about a week of activities that would have destroyed me before Ned, my pain is a ZERO! No pain, no drugs. And I'm taller because my stretches and strengthening of my scapular muscles (or whatever the heck they are) is fixing the posture problem I've, uh, had, since I was taller than every boy I knew, so about, um 15 years at least.

FREEDOM!! Pain free and loving it!

Posting Comments

2009-03-04T14:46:00.003-07:00

Dear friends: I think I fixed the post comments problem. You should now be able to click the number of comments located in the post's footer and a little window will pop up below where you can add yours. Let me know if it doesn't work. Love you all!

Truth, Lies, or Dare - My 3 Sons

2009-03-04T13:42:00.002-07:00

This is a post about my three sons: Truth, Lies, or Dare.

First, Truth - AKA Sam. Sam is an absolutist. He occupies a world where everything is black or white. When confronted with gray areas, he struggles. Like when "grown ups can make their own choices" even when they are not in sync with Sam's moral values.

He doesn't lie. Even when it would save him from getting in trouble. Oh, he's tried a few times, but he just can't do it. A few times he's come close, but before too long, he rats himself out.

He is a reporter with distinct journalistic accuracy - chronicling everything that happened (or didn't happen) while I was gone, while he was at school, during primary, or whatever. Sam is Truth.

Second, Lies - AKA Jake. Jake likes to make stuff up. Not maliciously, generally, just innocuous make believe. When I was pregnant with Abby, people would ask him what we were naming the baby and he would answer with the most serious tone possible - "Donald Duck."

He likes to make words and expressions up, too. Recently, he's been saying "Mom, I know lots of Spanish words." Oh, really? I ask. "Yup. Like Oogie-oogi-da-boogie. That's a lot of Spanish words I know." Incidentally, he's trying to teach Abby Spanish and so he uses that phrase a lot in his encounters with her.

He and I play hyperbole games like, "I wish I had 100 ____." His fill-in's have included belly buttons, zebras, and hot dogs, among others.

He likes to name call with made-up words, too, which infuriates Truth. When he was younger he used to bring Sam to tears by calling him a "Bupper Head." No idea where that came from, by the way. Then Uncle Ryan taught him the true beauty of "Sam-a-lam-a-ding-dong," and we've not had peace since. Jake is Lies.

Third, Dare - AKA Will. Will generally chooses not to speak, unless it is an outraged "MINE!" or the urgent "MO-OM!" Instead, he just stares you down and dares you. For example, the following exchange where Will's responses are all non-verbal:

Mom: bring me that remote, Will.

Will: What? This remote?

Mom: Will, bring Mom the remote, right now.

Will: Why? You left it out and I found it.

Mom: Will, please bring Mom the remote. RIGHT NOW.

Will: Seriously Mom, you're feeding Abby on the couch RIGHT NOW, so what are you going to do if I don't bring you the remote RIGHT NOW? Besides, I'm trying to figure out how it works.

Mom: Will? Do you need to sit in time out? Bring me the remote.

Will: Time Out? Please. I still don't think you're getting off the couch.

Mom: 1....2....

Will: Are you going to say 3? Because if you do, you're going to get off the couch and I'm going to run - run like the wind - and you're holding Abby and there's toys all over the floor. I don't think you're going to say 3.

Mom: 3. Will, bring me that remote.

Will: Bring it, Mom. Bring it.

Now I must point out that I really don't care that he has the remote, chances are he can't hurt it. Only, this is Dare we're talking about and he is the child who in six short weeks of sleepless nights figured out how to disassemble his pack-n-play FROM THE INSIDE!!! I'm secretly nervous that given enough time with that remote I'd walk into the living room one night to find him in nothing but his diaper watching some pay-per-view UFC THROWDOWN event kicking back on his sippy cup full of milk. So, I get up off the couch. Dare wins every time.

And Abby, you ask? Only time will tell.

cuz luv - jack & abby

2009-03-03T16:07:00.001-07:00

Here is Abby (12.26.08) with her cousin, Jack (1.24.09). Aren't they cute?

in my father's house there are many mansions - can I have my own bathroom?

2009-02-19T21:47:00.003-07:00

When I grow up, I want my own bathroom.

I think I will paint it purple and have flowers in it.
It will be warm and it will smell, well, nice! It will not cause one to wrinkle one's nose and wonder, what is that smell? And where is it coming from?
It will not have children's toothpaste smeared on the counter.
It will not have cheeto fingerprints on the light switch, peanut butter fingerprints on the door handle, or some strange unidentified substance on other surfaces and walls.
One will not have to do a check of the potty and its surroundings for evidence that small boys have been frequent visitors.
One will not have to lock up one's toothbrush to keep it from be "cleaned" in said potty.
Nor will one have to extract "like a zillion pounds" of toilet paper from said potty following some sort of experiment to find out exactly how much said potty could take before it flooded the bathroom.
One will not have to keep a separate storage facility for things that would typically be found in the bathroom, but because of small explorers and destroyers must be kept off-site. You know, like mascara.
I will not be embarrassed for anyone to visit my bathroom, except that maybe I left my hairdryer out (because it would also be allowed to be, gasp, dare we say it? INSIDE the bathroom)
It will not be invaded within 30 seconds of occupancy by any person yelling "Mom?!? Where are you?"
One will not have to empty bath toys and other paraphernalia out of the shower before using it, trying not to drip last night's now cold bathwater on one's half-asleep early morning self.
The toilet tank will not do that sweaty toilet tank thing.
The rug will not have to be washed on a daily basis to free it from the peril of dirty shoes, fruit snacks, art projects, and other side effects of childhood.
It will be mine. And only I will be allowed to decide who comes in. If you're nice and don't violate it, you might make the list. Maybe.

Little Princess

2009-02-18T15:12:00.002-07:00

Enjoy - she's almost smiling for the camera!
And yes, eyes still blue!

i'm going to miss this?

2009-02-12T22:41:00.002-07:00

So, I've been hearing this expression a lot - enjoy this time with your kids because you're really going to miss this time, your kids will only be little once, etc. I was up late the other night folding laundry, because really, who can do that while holding an infant and telling the big boys not to unfold everything in the basket? Anyways. I was listening to President Monson's talk from General Conference in October called The Joy of the Journey. He talked about enjoying the time with your little kids now because one day you'd miss all the laundry and fingerprinted surfaces. I looked down at my mountains and I wondered: I'm going to miss this?

I wondered it again tonight as I watched Will hurl red powerade dyed vomit all over the living room carpet. The carpet is ugly, old, and vile and I hate it, but now it's going to be pink in places, too. As I'm trying to rush him to the bathroom I thought to myself again: I'm going to miss this?

But then, as I looked at Will's big brown eyes ( I should post a photo of just his eyes so you can really understand) as he sadly looked up at his yucky pajamas I thought to myself, I'm going to miss THAT. I'm going to miss that face that looks for me to comfort him when things are going badly. I'm going to miss those eyes that tell me I'm the only person that can make things right again. I'm going to miss the little body curled up next to mine as it tries again to find balance and normalcy after something shocking like throwing up. That. I'm going to miss that.

Powerade puke, maybe not so much.

One other thing I'll miss, especially since my posts recently have all been about Will.

Today we were in the parking lot in the grocery store after an especially stressful shopping trip that involved children running wild through the meat section repeatedly using the automatic hand sanitizing dispenser and making hand sanitizer puddles all over the floor. UG! (incidentally - not missing that either.) Anyways, we get to the parking lot and a pretty rough looking woman comes up to us and tells us she needs money to buy food. As usual, I have no cash. I tell her that much, that I don't have cash and she thanks me and leaves.

Sam noticed this. (He notices everything.) He said "Mom, is that lady poor?" We talked for a few minutes about how she needed money and Mom didn't have any to give her, but if I had had some cash, I would've given her some. And then, with the sincerity only a five year old can muster, he looked right into my eyes and said, "Heavenly Father is glad you tried, Mom."

Thanks, Sam.

I think I'll miss that, too.

little moments

2009-02-11T15:39:00.002-07:00

I live for little moments like this:

Sam (who's learning to read) reading to Will (his favorite book: Smash Crash)

and Jake, feeding Abby.

My boys will be such great Daddys one day!

i'm making it right now! (or thoughts on timing)

2009-02-09T21:55:00.003-07:00

Yesterday in Sunday School we talked about the Lord's timing versus our own timing. We all agreed that there have been many times in our lives when we've asked for something and then been upset with the Lord because we're not getting it right then. As the discussion progressed, all I could think of were my kids and the oh-so-painful daily event called Dinner Time.

Dinner Time at Casa Bunker is usually met with the following:
1. "I'm hungry Mom." to which I provide some comforting answer like, "Yes, I know, honey, I'm going to make dinner in a few minutes.

2. "But I'm hungry NOW, Mom." to which I repeat the same comforting answer, "Yes, I know, honey. But you're going to have to wait for dinner. I'm going to make it in a few minutes."

3. "BUT MO-OM! I'm so hungry RIGHT NOW!!" to which my answer becomes less comforting and more like, "Do you see me? I'm going in the kitchen RIGHT NOW to make your dinner. Seriously. Have I ever not fed you?"

4. "MOM? What is that disgusting smell? What are you making for dinner?" To which all comfort has gone from my answer and they are either met with "whatever I feed you" or "something really gross and you have to eat it because you're SO hungry!"

5. "MOM!! I need a snack right now. SNACK. SNACK!" You can guess what kind of answer follows.

How does this relate?

In our relationship with Heavenly Father, we are the children. How many times have we told the Lord, "I need ___" in much the same way that my kids tell me they're hungry. Then, like my children, we expect hot dinner prepared to our specifications to instantly appear on the plate before us. After all, we're hungry RIGHT NOW!

Thankfully, our Heavenly Father is a loving (and perfect) parent. While my responses to the repeated begging of my children for what I am currently in the process of getting for them degenerate from kind and comforting to varying levels of exasperation and exhaustion, His continue steady and true. "Yes, my child. I'm getting ____ for you."

But as the children, do we sometimes fail to realize that things take time? Just like chicken nuggets require time to cook before they're hot (and there really is no short cut for that), sometimes the things we've asked for take time. Ours, His, and just time in general.

Further, I think we often respond to what is being prepared or being presented to us in the same way that my kids approach dinner. "You're making what? I don't like that. I'm not going to eat that. That's disgusting." When, in reality, it's something that is healthy and good for us, that we would like if we would only try it, and which may take some getting used to, but at some future point we will not find disgusting.

Finally, as a parent, I really do feel my hungry child's pain. It's been a few hours since they ate and they are are hungry RIGHT NOW. As I'm hurriedly making their dinner, I wish like crazy it would go faster so they would be out of pain. But some things just take time. And if I cheat and give them a snack before dinner, they won't eat the dinner that is coming (and much better) for them. They'll miss out on what is the best for them, that they really do want. On some level, anyway.

So, the Lord's timing is not ours, but in the end, it is the best for us.
And for the time being, He really is making it - RIGHT NOW!

cow kisses

2009-02-05T13:06:00.000-07:00

Mr. No-Pajamas has now redeemed himself with a recent string of cute behavior. Funny how that works. What is that saying about mothers and short memories, again? Anyways.

Will and I have this game. I say "Gimme kisses" and stick out my cheek and he runs over and kisses it. It's a fun game. As the affection starved mother of three rowdy boys I take it when I can get it, right? So Will is almost 2 and is a willing participant in this game.

But he's made up a new variation.

Now when I beg for kisses with my cheek stuck out in his direction, he runs over, puckers up, and instead of planting a wet toddler kiss, he presses his lips against my cheek and says "MOOOOOO!!!"

It is the cutest thing ever. Then he giggles as only an almost two year old can and my heart is melted over the pinned pajamas.

Mostly.

pajamas

2009-02-03T22:22:00.000-07:00

My almost two year old can get out of his zipper pajamas - you know, the ones with the feet we all remember from childhood. You may wonder why I am astounded by his ability to free himself from an article of clothing that simply zips down the front. Read on.

This particular child has an aversion to clothing. We know this. He rarely stays in his pants all day and if a shirt did not have to be pulled up and over his head not to mention unbuttoned or unsnapped, he'd be stark naked all the time. This being said, we pin him into the pajamas. It's not inhumane. He needs the pajamas to stay warm at night - it's February in Provo for the sake of Pete! If he doesn't wear them, he gets cold and wakes up at some horrifying hour of the night and I have to deal with him then. Furthermore, if he were to be running around in his dark bedroom with no toys (this, too, is done for a reason) chances are he'd get bored and take his diaper off and then that horrifying hour of the night just got even scarier.

So, yes. Horrible mother that I am, I put a safety pin under the zipper pull of my toddler's zipper pajamas.

And. He. Gets. Out!!!

I have no idea how. The pin is still locked in place. The pajamas are still zipped all the way up. They are just in a heap on the floor and he is running around the room. Naked. Cold. Bored. And still not asleep.

Why is this?

If, after a long day of toddler-ing, a gracious and loving mother took the time to bathe me, dress me in warm, soft, and comfortable pajamas, and tuck me into my bed, I would be happy, I would snuggle blissfully into my bed and not wake until dawn. Instead, I'm chasing a naked toddler around trying to get the pin off his pajamas so that I can put them back on him!

I'm not sure what's more amazing here. His being able to get out of the pinned pajamas or my repeated attempts to re-pin him in the pajamas...