It Was Awesome

I must first begin this post with an explanation; a definition if you will. The word Awesome. I do not use this word in the conventional Utah way. I use it in my husband's absolute favorite way: brimming with sarcasm. So much sarcasm in fact, that my use of the word comes to mean the exact opposite. Let me give you some examples:

My neighbors barking dogs are awesome.

Hudson has this awesome scream that I love.

John-Erik thinks my extreme use of sarcasm is my most awesome trait.

See how it works? Let us begin...

So me and my awesome hair (there it is!) had a birthday last week. And, a little while ago, I consented to this awesome idea of going on a camping road trip which just so happened to coincide with that day.

Now, let me tell you. I don't really enjoy camping. I could really say that I DISlike camping. Intensely. Some things about camping are super yuck. Actually, most of it. Camping is right up there in awesome point value with some of my other favorites - babies crying in their car seats for hours on end, kids who are uncooperative and ill behaved, and cars that break down at the most inopportune time. Was that sentence loaded with foreshadowing? Are you intrigued now? Read on, dear friend! Read on!

I have to admit that my attitude was awesome. It was completely in the toilet, in fact, in regards to this trip. If I have ever done anything "for the kids" this was it. I was scoring mother points in heaven left and right on this one, I tell you.

We began packing Friday morning. Abigail kept bringing me her brand new clothes, most of which were white, beige, and/or still had their tags on them. Then she became all sassy pants when I patiently told her to get old clothes that could be ruined by camping. It was a back and forth battle of wills all morning. Awesome event #1.

We made it out by Friday afternoon to go and pick up our good friend, Ryan. He completes our anti-polygamous family as our brother-husband. I know, I am a lucky girl. You are so jealous. Don't deny it. We stopped at WalMart to gather supplies, and away we went to Bryce Canyon.

We thought we had it timed that we could leave just as Hudson was going to need a nap, so he would sleep in the car on the way down. That worked for all of about 23 minutes. By the time we got to Provo (which was our first potty stop. That's right- 23 minutes into our trip we stopped for the bathroom) he was awake. And mad. Really mad. His car seat became his mortal enemy, and he had to voice that loudly and continuously. With every mile that ticked away, his face became redder and redder. Poor Ryan. He is not used to the wails of Hudson. The rest of us have learned to try and tune him out, but Ryan's untrained ears had to suffer, I'm afraid. Awesome event #2.

We made it to Panguitch and Ryan treated us to a wonderful pizza dinner. The pizza was huge and filled our stomachs and refreshed my will to live. We could make it to the campsite! We could! And, hopefully (fingers crossed) before dark. No such luck. All the potty breaks and the late start cost us the daylight and Ryan and Jeb had to struggle to get things together for my whiny self and the 4 equally whiny kids in the dark. How they managed, I will never know. We slept just fine (except for Jeb, since I didn't blow up a mattress for him - that'll teach him!!) once we managed to wrestle Hudson from sitting on Leah's head and lay down.

The next morning, Jeb and Ryan took Abigail on a hike while the rest of us babies slept. I woke up to the boys cooking eggs and potatoes for breakfast and getting ready to heat up the oil to make us scones. After we all had dough filled bellies, we were off to see the sights. Bryce canyon is beautiful and amazing.

We started with the museum and visitors center where Abigail found a cougar...

And I found a Ute.

My find is way cuter than hers.

Bryce canyon has hikes all over that are really kid friendly. They try and keep the drop offs fenced so as to keep the yung 'uns from falling to their demise. But Harrison is no ordinary yung 'un. We had to pull him away from the edge so many times I lost count. Fun, huh? It is so awesome to turn your head and see your boy dangling at the edge of destruction. The topper was when we made it to a place called Rainbow Bridge, and Harrison bolted from the car to see the view. I was unloading Leah and Hudson when I saw a man trying to flag me down and pointing at Harrison in a dramatic fashion, trying to tell him to get down. I go up to Harrison and find that he is climbing on the top rung of the fence, which is on the edge of a cliff with like a million foot drop. The poor man who didn't speak English was panicked. I wasn't panicked. I was angry, to say the least. Awesome event #3.

After we see the view at Rainbow Bridge, we all pile back into the car to carry on. This is when the most awesome thing happened. The car revolted. It dug in its heels and would not start. We tried and tried again. Nothing. Just the bing, bing, bing of it trying to tell us that we had left the keys in. We waited a little bit and tried again. Zippo. We unplugged devices and tried again. Zilch. Our 2 accountants (not mechanics) Ryan and Jeb popped the hood and tried to diagnose the problem. It was a mystery. Super Awesome event #4.

Then it was decided that Ryan would try and find a ride back to the lodge and see if he could get help. So we sat and waited in our traitor car until he returned. After an hour or so, Ryan came driving up in a HUGE YELLOW tow truck with a mechanic named Billie. Billie popped the hood and in about 3.2 seconds had the car running. He followed us to the fix-it shop and had 'er going again as good as new in about 15 minutes. I loved Billie, and told him so. Abigail decided that Billie should be in line to become Mr. B, and I agreed (completely inside joke. My apologies).

We made it back to the camp and Jeb threw together some sloppy joes for dinner. The sun was starting to set so the bigguns and the men took to a hike for star gazing. Leah, Hudson, and myself stayed back. After we were all reunited, Jeb managed to get Hudson to sleep (putting himself to sleep in the process) and Ryan started a fire for smores. It was very nice. That is the one thing I like about camping. Fires at nighttime under the spectacular scenery. Who knew the sky could be so filled with stars? Heavenly.

We all (miraculously) made it home in the same amount of pieces we left with. Hudson did manage to sleep for most of the ride home, as did the rest of us.

Well, did you catch it? I certainly did. I did not set anything up. I did not do any cooking. I did not have to plan, execute, or clean up anything while on this trip. Despite my dislike of camping, and maybe in spite of the fact that we were camping, it was actually a really nice trip. We were all well taken care of by the men, even (totally undeservedly) spoiled - which made my crummy attitude hard to keep. All of our awesome adventures ended up working out, and even left a little room for some fun times and good memories. Camping is still not what I would have picked out for a birthday party, but we did have fun; thanks to Jeb and Ryan. My 2 camping heroes. They were fantastic. They did all the work; including the hardest job of all - putting up with cranky me.

Besides, my mom gave me a University of Utah blanket as a gift, and there is no way those BYU boys could have topped that. Seriously, though, what could?

Mom's Last Treatment

She did it!! She managed to keep her white cells up, her weight stable, and her spirits high (enough) to make it to her last chemo treatment on time. We came and visited her with some of the grand kids and had an orange juice parade to celebrate (you can see them all in her bag). After she was done, we all had lunch at the Huntsman cafeteria and watched the helicopters come and go. It was fun, but not as fun as leaving. We were so out of there. We didn't even let the door hit us on the way out.

Doesn't she look great?!? She did it. We all sit in amazement of my sweet, lovely mom.

Abigail

Abigail's Birthday

Abigail has successfully cracked the 9 year barrier. I can't believe my little preemie is now 9 years old. I was always focused on getting her to 8 when she could be baptized, so now that she is 9 she seems so terribly old. She is such a lovely 9 year old, though.

We worked incredibly hard to get her here. There has never been a baby more wanted or worked for, in my opinion. I can remember the months and months of failure. Every fast Sunday watching baby after baby being blessed was heartbreaking. As the months turned into years with painful tests and treatments that were unsuccessful, I was worn out and ready to give up. Maybe it just wasn't going to happen for us. The doctors told us that we were too young to really care anyway.

But then, one blissful Thursday night after work, my prayers were answered with a resounding yes. I went over to the maternity floor of the hospital I was working in (a very mean place to have the pregnancy tests, I think) to subject myself again to the monthly disappointment. The nurse who was with me, unknowing of my situation, reported the "positive" to me with a sigh. I jumped up and asked her if this was really true. She then was aware of the hopefulness I had come in with and became excited right along with me. I told her that even though I really didn't know her at all, I just had to give her a hug. "We have been trying for so long!!" I said. She told me that I had made her night, and off I went to spring the news on my ever patient and supportive husband.

That started our adventure. My pregnancy was wonderful. All those women who complained about being pregnant - Hah! What were they talking about? I was in complete heaven. Every morning I would have my breakfast of Doritos and root beer, and then my wiggly baby would make her flipping, flopping presence known at 10:00 on the dot. But then came the news that my body wasn't handling the pregnancy as it should. My blood pressure was getting to be too high. I was given steroid shots to help my little baby's lungs grow faster, and assigned to bed rest for the weekend. A few weeks after that, things weren't improving, and Abigail had to make her entrance earlier than expected.

She was so tiny. Her daddy's "little loaf of bread". She spent 8 days in the NICU, something that was expected to last longer. I hated seeing her in her isolette, all tethered to various tubes. She was still there for my birthday, a fact which brought me to tears. There seemed to be nothing good there. The doctors who didn't want me to persist in trying to breastfeed. They wanted the easy feeding tube instead. The nurses who didn't understand why I wanted to be informed if something were going to happen to her. Yes, I wanted to be alerted if she needed a new IV put in. Yes, I wanted to be alerted if she was going to have to have that feeding tube after all. Why is that so unreasonable?

But, eventually, after much persistence in feeding, she had gained enough weight and passed all their "tests" to be able to come home. And then it started. I had to set my alarm to wake her up to feed her every 3 hours. She was just too tired to wake up and eat. Looking back, I can't believe that I have kept her alive for 9 years.

She is still the smallest to this day. In kindergarten, when placed in a class with 2 other Abigail's, she was referred to as "little Abigail". She is shorter than kids who are younger than her, which I think is fantastic. The shortest girls are always the cutest.

She has an old soul. At school, she has just as many friends in the teachers and staff as she does in kids her own age. She can carry on a conversation with a "grown up" just as well as she can with the neighbor kids.

She is a smart cookie, that kid. She can argue and sass her way with the best of them. But, we still manage to get along even through all of that.

For her birthday, Abigail had a very detailed list of the things she wanted:

1- Headphones that go on top of your ears, not in your ears (check).

2- Twilight soundtrack (negative).

3-American Girl books (check in the form of a gift card from Tracy).

4-Notebooks (check, thanks Bo).

5-Pens (sparkle check, thanks Bo).

6-Music recorder (check).

7-Jonas Brother music (painful check, thanks a lot, Bo).

8-Jonas Brother, the movie (negative. It's not out on DVD and no way am I taking everyone to that in the theatres).

9-Tape recorder (check).

10-Beads, ocean, real (check, check, and check).

11-Webkinz (check fuzzy hippo, thanks Bo).

12-VIP Littlest Petshop (check duck, thanks Grandma).

13- Shining Stars (negative. How many "interactive" internet toys does a girl really need?).

14-Kit, the Movie (check).

15-Kit, the book series (check, again in the form of gift card thanks to aunt Tracy).

She also made her very own birthday cake - all by herself. Really, she did. She wanted brownies and did such a wonderful job.

I sure love you, my sweetheart. You make my days easier just by being your sweet, caring self. You make me happy every single day, and I am so glad to have you.

Abigail's 9 report:

Favorite things: the beach, the color turquoise, her parakeet (which is turquoise, by the way), going camping, music, going swimming, going on vacation, dancing, the ocean.

Favorite books: Lizzie McGuire mysteries, Little Genie, High School Musical 2 (which she had to read before she could see the movie), High School Musical 3 (which she had to read before she could see the movie), Enchanted (you get the idea about the movies), Pet Trouble, Under the Sea, Princess Collection, The Mermaid's Treasure.

Favorite Foods: Chinese food, homemade quiche, homemade mac and cheese, mac and cheese with white sauce, The Brick Oven Restaurant, fish, ham sandwiches, treats, and hard boiled eggs.

Favorite Animals: Parakeets, dogs, fish, whales, dolphins, sea turtles, stingrays, sharks, and seals.

Favorite Colors: Turquoise, aquamarine, blue-green, green-blue, teal, cerulean, aqua, cyan, and just plain blue.

My 9 proudest moments: When she was baptized, when she passed up a "Build a Bear" because we were saving up for our house, every report card, when she wanted to share her baptism with Hudson's blessing, when she shares her "makeup" with Leah, her piano recital, her dance recitals, when she ran to Harrison to help him back up the hill because he fell off his bike, when she cut her hair off for Grandma.

All I Want Is To Have Harrold Back!!!

Disclaimer: I have a cold, have only warm OJ in the house, am on about 57 (only a slight exaggeration) different medications, and am very, very grumpy. Just a warning about the tone of this post.

Yes, that title is a vague reference to Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. And yes, I WOULD give my last case of Wonka bars as ransom. What is being held for ransom you ask? No, not Harrold, but our yard. Let me explain....

Last year at this time we had new neighbors move in right next door. All right. Not so bad. They are an interesting couple, along with their 2 small children. A boy who is now almost 4, and a little girl who is now 1 1/2. Not so bad so far, right? Hang on to your britches, or whatever else you happen to be wearing.

We begin a relationship with said neighbors, and the kids begin a friendship with said children. This is where wackiness and problems ensue. You see, their now almost 4 year old is named, ironically, Ivan. I say ironically because he is just like Ivan the Terrible. Only our neighbor Ivan is not Russian. Other than that, they are just the same. They even look alike.

Our neighbor Ivan is an almost 4 year old trapped in the body of an 18 year old linebacker. He weighs about as much as I do. And he can push that weight around, boy howdy. The kid is a real bruiser. He has slapped Abigail in the face so hard it left a welt, all because she was walking him home to make sure he got there okay. He punches Harrison as often as he can. But poor Leah tends to get the brunt of him. He has pushed her off her bed (which is almost as high as the top bunk of a bunk bed). He has pinched her cheek (not scratched, not clawed, but pinched) so hard it bled. He has taught her very colorful language. Right after Thanksgiving he dumped a bucket of ice melt over her head. That was it for me.

Every time something happened, he was sent home. Or we took him home and confronted his mother. When these confrontations would take place, she would say "Ivan, did you hit/pinch/punch/assault and/or battery these kids?" To which his answer would ALWAYS be "Nope". She wouldn't believe him, but still a punishment was never carried through with. The entire winter was spent indoors or away from home. No just hanging out at home. It was too risky.

But now, it is summer. And around he comes again. He doesn't come to the door to play. He just waits until my guys are out in the front yard, and then attacks. The strict rule for my Oompa Loompas is that they always have to be nice and polite to him; not saying mean things or running away. But, if he hurts any one of them, they are to come in and not play with him anymore.

It was just a matter of time (minutes, really) that this scenario was put into action. Leah and Harrison were out riding their scooters for all of 48 seconds, when Harrison came in and told me that Ivan had put Leah in a headlock, and thrown her to the ground. In they come, and I tell Ivan to go home and tell his mom what had happened. After he does this (with lots and lots of forceful "encouragement") she then proceeds to send Ivan over to apologize to Leah. Harrison answers the door with Leah and, after Ivan apologizes, he tells Ivan that they are not going to play with him today because Ivan hurt his sister.

Apparently, this was not the thing to do.

I immediately receive a phone call from Ivan's mom telling me that Harrison was saying hurtful, damaging things and that Ivan was crying and can't my kids be nice and Ivan is just a little boy and I am raising wimps and we should just let them play and on and on and on!?! WHAT?!?! And then the kicker; "If your kids don't stop saying that Ivan is mean" she said "then I will start being mean to your kids". Needless to say, we are avoiding Ivan at all costs again.

So, you ask, can't you just keep the kids in the backyard and have them play there Ivan free? Don't I wish it were that easy. There are 2 main factors for making this solution unsolutionable.

1- They have a big deck which overlooks all of our neighborhood, but mainly our backyard. Ivan will stand on this throne of his and yell and yell and yell and yell at the kids to come and play with him, or to stop playing whatever they are playing and come talk to him, or yell at any other playmates that happen to be playing that they need to go home so that my kids can play with him, etc. And he stalks that porch as well as he stalks his front porch. Waiting, always waiting, for the kids to come out.

2- They have, against our city's code might I add, 3 dogs. 2 enormous dogs that have that really deep bark; and 1 little black dog with the classic yappy yap that is akin to nails on chalkboards, and makes you want to remove your eardrums yourself with a melon baller. These dogs have obviously been trained by Ivan himself as they begin to bark if we even whisper to the kids "why don't you go outside and play".

So, when the kids go into the backyard the only game they can play is either "Let's See How Loud the Dogs Will Bark", or "We Have To Stay On the Side of the House to Play in Secret", aka "The Avoiding Ivan Game".

If anybody has any ideas as to how to handle unruly, bully, crazy neighbors, let me know. Or if you have a case of Wonka bars you'd be willing to donate......

Zoo Field Trip

I went with Harrison on his first field trip to the zoo. Shouldn't all first field trips be to the zoo? Classic elementary school protocol. It was also his first time on a school bus. The excitement was overwhelming!!! The Bus!!! Hooray!!! It swerves like a rollercoaster with every turn!! It elicits screams of delight with every bump and jump over old potholes!!! It was the greatest day of his life since his dad won the Wii at the work summer party!!!! Yes, Harrison spoke with double and triple exclamation points about every new experience!!! Aren't kindergartners wonderful?

We had a small group, just Harrison and his friend Tyler. We were free to do whatever the boy's little rapid beating, excited hearts desired.

We watched the rhinos eat (and slobber right back out) whole apples and bananas, peels included. We participated in and watched the bird show - an every zoo trip requirement. We were sprayed with water by the elephant who will be ready to have her baby in July (I would spray people who stared at me in my last month of pregnancy, too).

But the best part of the day was at the end; and not just because we were done and going home. We wrapped up our visit with a Q&A session with the camel handlers. The boys each asked very intelligent questions. Is the hump really filled with water? Why are their humps different shapes? Why is that-camel-over-there's hump falling over? And then came the clincher.......

How do you tell a boy camel from a girl camel?

The handlers were very cute in their answer. "Well, just like you do in people. A boy looks like a boy, and a girl looks like a girl".

To which Harrison responded,

"Oh! A girl has more hair on her head, and a boy has less, right!?!"

Exactly right, Bubba. Field trip: success.