Hostess with the Mostess

The mostess fun guests, that is!

Two weeks ago we got to have a totally awesome visit with my sisters Mignon and Mikalyn. It was practically perfect in every way, except that it just wasn't long enough! We packed as much Arkansas fun into the weekend as we possibly could. Cadence cried the whole way home from the airport when we dropped them off to say goodbye! We are so grateful that they got to come, that they sacrificed their time to be with us, and that Uncle Randall so graciously donated skymiles so that they could afford the trip! Isn't that grand?

This really deserves a more thorough post, and I should have done this last week but I was a little busy changing bandages and blogging about blood and stuff. Sorry distinguished guests--you deserve better!

Aunt Mignon tries to corrall all three to sit still in one spot for a photo op

What a bunch of hayseeds! Spencer, Mikalyn, and Campbell catch some zzz's in a soft bed of hay.

Devil's Den--a fantastic hike!


The "waterfall"?

We felt really lucky to have crossed paths with a "walking stick". None of us could suppress the giggles as we watched this stick walk all over Spencer. It especially liked his face. The picture doesn't capture how strange a creature it really is. Bug's Life does, though.

This vine was perfect for climbing!

Yes, it was every bit as awkward to climb as I made it look.

Surprise! Mikalyn made it the highest! (okay, no surprise there.)

And no party is complete without a solid jam session.

And then, as if that wasn't enough excitement, we got to have Uncle Jordan come the very next week! Spencer's brother Jordan just returned home from a mission to Taiwan and got to come out for a weekend to see us. It was so exciting. The girls have been praying for Uncle Jordan everyday for as long as they can remember. The last time he saw Campbell she was two weeks old! And of course he'd never met Layla. And you can imagine just how much Cadence has changed since he had seen her last! The girls loved having Jordan around and for several days after Campbell has been asking where "Juhjun" is. Here are some of the fun things we did with Juhjun:

We had a backyard cookout!

And took Jordan to Devil's Den, too. Even though the whole time it was threatening to rain. It's so beautiful, it's worth getting wet.

Again, "waterfall"? It must be much more impressive in other seasons.

Pumpkin carving. I was more than a little nervous about Cadence weilding sharp pumpkin carving tools. But everybody kept their fingers intact, as a favor to me.

Thank you thank you Jordan, Mignon, and Mikalyn for coming to see us! Your visits were breaths of fresh air for us. We love you all very very much!

Blood, Sweat, Tears

Mostly blood and tears, honestly. But there was no doubt some sweating involved.

Hey, Cadence--

Today was one of those days I suspect you will never forget. I know I won't.

This morning before lunchtime we decided to play for only a very few minutes in the play room. You and Cam started out with some books on the super-soft "reading couch". It didn't take long for the "reading couch" to become the "jumping couch", as it always does, and you climbed quickly to the top to jump down onto the supremely bouncy cushions. As you did so you reached out and grabbed the cord from the window blinds behind you. I said, "don't grab that!" but it was too late and you jumped down with cord in hand.

As soon as you landed you were screaming and crying. Your cry told me something was seriously wrong. I ran to you and your hand was filled with blood. I thought maybe the cord had slit a flap of skin in your palm or something. I took you to the bathroom to rinse some of the blood so that I could figure out what was going on. You were screaming, you would not let me rinse it or move it or anything. I was able to see that it was your thumb (right hand) and that the fingernail was at least partially missing. It was really hard for me to tell exactly what I was looking at, but the blood was coming fast and you were in a lot of pain and looking pale, and I was pretty sure I could see bone. So I grabbed a onesie that was nearby and wrapped it around your hand, not knowing if I should apply pressure, which no doubt increase the pain even more, or try to do anything on my own or what. I tried to call Valerie, our wonderful neighbor who was a nurse, but she didn't answer, so I decided to just get you to an emergency room right away so that the pain and bleeding could be controlled.

I thought about the fact that maybe an entire piece of your thumb might be missing and so I quickly ran into the play room to look for a thumb. I didn't see it and was too panicked about your bleeding to think about the thumb. It's probably a good thing I didn't find it because I probably would have put it in a cup of milk and taken it to the E-room and gotten some pretty weird looks, since body parts are supposed to be on ice and teeth are supposed to be on milk. Something I didn't realize until later in the day.

You sat at the top of the stairs with the onesie around your hand while I grabbed the babies and put them into the car. You asked several times in a panicked, sobbing voice, "Mom, will my fingernail ever come back?" and "Mom, will it ever be normal again?" And you told me many times how much it hurt. Oh, even now, as I write this, my heart just hurts and pain teases my nerves to imagine you in such pain. I carefully carried you down to the car. I was going to just take all three of you into the emergency room, since I didn't want to take the time to find somebody. But then I realized I didn't know where I was going, anyway!

I called one of my great friends here, Tara, and asked her where she would go if she was going to go to an Emergency Room. Just having to say the words made me start crying! She told me where to go and then said she would come and meet me there to get the kids.

She and her husband met us there and while Tara got the carseats and babies squared away, her husband Dan carried you in and held you while I filled out the paperwork and answered questions. I took you back into my arms as soon as I could and thanked Dan. He left but then another guy walked by--somebody who worked at the hospital-- and asked, "Has she had a blessing yet?" "No, no she hasn't." I said. I hadn't called your dad because I was trying to remain calm and if I was to overreact and make it into a big deal I would just have to start flipping out. And I hadn't asked for a blessing because, I guess I was waiting for somebody to tell me how serious it was.

In any case, he offered to go back and get Dan so that they could bless you. Isn't that so sweet? So he (later we learned his name is Joel Rawneck and is in our stake and recognized Dan) and Dan stayed with us until the time was right to administer a blessing. They did and then the nurse came in and started to clean your wound. She was very gentle with you and worked slowly, since you were very against the idea of anything, including just still water, touching your wound. She started by rinsing your other hand. and then the wrist of the injured hand. And worked up to your thumb. In the end you would still hardly let her rinse you. But the blood had slowed quite a bit and that was a relief.

The Dr. came in swiftly and seemed to give it barely more than a sideways glance before pronouncing that the nailbed was ripped out and that some good bandaging and a few weeks is all that would need to heal itself. The doctor left just as quickly as he appeared and the nurse went out to get some pain meds--finally!





Your injury happened at 11:40 ish am and by 12:30 you finally had some serious pain killers. Only about 5-10 minutes after the Tylenol with Codeine was given, you smiled for the first time since it happened. I'm not used to seeing you without a smile; that first smile was priceless to me. You rested for a few minutes while the nurse explained (not very clearly, I might say) how to dress it and what to look for, etc. and then we were on our way. I picked you up and you rested your head on my shoulder and said in sincere and sweet way that I'll never forget, "Mom, I'm sorry I did not obey your rule and played with the blinds." It was too sweet.

Your poor father. In my hustle and bustle I excused myself from calling him because I didn't want it to be a big deal. I didn't know what they were going to do so I thought I'd wait and call him after I get the doctor's opinion. So during a down-time in the room, when the nurse and doctor had both stepped out, I took some pictures with my phone and sent a quick text message to him just to let him know something had happened but that we were okay. The picture I sent was a close-up of your thumb (too gory for a blog) and these words:

Cadence. Nail bed gone, plus chunk off end of rt thumb.
We're okay, lot's of pain and blood. Had a blessing from
Dan F and guy at emergency rm.

Now, I thought that was clear and concise. Spencer just told me that if he hadn't been debriefed by Dan (also works at Walmart), who wandered into his office just before Spencer got my text, he probably would have "thrown up, yelled out a swear-word, and then jumped in the car to come find us." (*he then said that he really probably wouldn't have sworn, and that throwing up may or may not be replaced with "cried"). Wow, I didn't expect that. It was a pretty gruesome picture but I thought he'd appreciate that.

When we got back to our van I called your dad and he was so relieved to hear from us. I had to go get some pain controlling meds for you so we went to pick him up to come with us. He just really needed to be with you, I could tell. He got in the car and went to the back to be with you. He carried you around Walmart and took you to pick out donuts. He didn't even care that you were having donuts before your lunch! You, incidentally, were in a really good mood now that the codeine was kicking in! Your pitch was a little out-of-control and here-and-there, and your words would come out in spurts and giggles would escape inextricably. You were quite pleasant company, I admit!

When we got home I went straight up to look for the rest of your thumb. I just was sure there had to be some "remains". I found it. It was so disturbingly whole looking. I recognized it. It was a finger I had seen do many many things. I put it in a little bag and walked away. Then I came back to look again. And walked away feeling sad and a little weakened. I had to keep reminding myself that your finger is going to grow back. That was not your finger anymore. Your finger is going to grow. I kept coming back to it. And then walking away. I finally took some pictures to txt to your dad just cause I needed to share it with him. I also included pretty clever text, but it would seem a little out of context here. I cannot tell you how weird it was to look at.

You went and looked for it too, and were quite bummed you couldn't find it. You kept asking me where it was. You looked and looked and had the sense that I knew but wasn't telling. But I couldn't bring myself to show it to you.

You were very brave today. You have been very curious about it all and very patient. You were jumping on couches before the end of the day (in spite of my panicked pleas to stop).



Please tell me that this is still the story you tell about a major injury. I hope that there are minimal markings to show for it but also that it's the craziest thing you have to talk about.

Campbell's leg, your thumb. Can we please be done? That list is as long as it needs to be, thank you.

On our way home from the hospital you and I said a little prayer of thanks. Gratitude fills my heart tonight that you are okay. That you are feeling well and your prognosis is good and that the body heals itself. Gratitude that the Flemings were available and willing to help in the very instant that we needed it. Gratitude that your daddy is so supportive and loving and truly invested in his children. And gratitude for the healing power of the priesthood and that that power is available to us for physical and spiritual strength and healing when we need it.

I love you, Cadence. Your Daddy does, too. I mean, that guy is usually cool-as-a-cucumber, and he about fell apart just seeing the pictures of you. He just wanted to be by your side and be there for you. He said he couldn't focus the rest of the whole day. He really loves you and your sisters.

You should know you were brave and strong and kept it together today. I hope that as you read this you can say that it healed so well you'd never know it happened. And now I feel like I should go rip all the blinds down.

You Oughtta Know

Layla, here are some things that you oughtta know:

--You make everybody smile. You are beaming. Full of joy.

--You have an incredibly high pain tolerance. I worry a little when I see that you aren't crying after Campbell has tried to sit on you like you're a horse, or when you fall and hit your head--to be quite honest. But you seem to learn from your mistakes still, so I think you are just cut from some tough cloth!

--Like your sister before you, your thighs are not to be missed. Nobody can resists giving them a good squeeze.

--You love Cadence's soccer games because you like to cheer and clap along with us all.

--You give the best hugs. Not all babies your age hug, you know.

--You have a special place in this family and Dad and I can't imagine what we would do without you.

--You have show-stopper eyes. People tell me that your face is so cute that you don't even need hair. I tell them, "oh, this is my baby with hair!"

--Your older sisters both have the "what's in your mouth"-finger-swipe down like they are pro's. They use it on you a lot. So do I. Something is always in your mouth.

--You still growl.

--Your laugh is strong and contageous.

Campbell, here are some things YOU oughtta know:

--You are pretty dang sweet, even for a two-year-old. I really thought I was in big trouble with you at age two since you are such a fire-cracker. But you are so loveable and agreeable!

--You love to climb. Still.

--You think that anytime you have lipgloss or chapstick applied, you must kiss Mama's lips.

--You have this thing with backs. You just must climb onto one if it is before you. Mine, Layla's, other kids in the nursery... it often doesn't end well and yet you still see it as a gift just for you if somebody's back is in front of you.

--You still eat sand, dirt, and rocks.

--You are a joy to be with and you light up everybody's day, family, friends, neighbors, and strangers. You are always catching people's attention and they just love to watch you.

--You've started potty training yourself, in spite of the fact that I'm not ready for it yet.

--You still love to greet and bid farewell to anyone and everyone in a very gregacious manner.

Cadence, some things you oughtta know:

--You are really a little mother to your sisters a lot of the time. I count on you to be the eyes in the back of my head, and you will almost always let me know if one of your sisters is into something she shouldn't be. You help me set the table, you can get Campbell's shoes on and off and buckle and unbuckle her carseat, etc.

--You have this way of smiling at me that just makes my heart skip a beat. Your eyes shine and your smile is so true. Your dad has a similar thing going on. This one smile that is more genuine and true than other smiles...and it brightens my entire day.

--Your prayers are great. Here are some of my favorite things that you've prayed for recently:

-"thank you that Mom won't be like this all day.."(that was this morning, actually.)

-"Thank you for uncle John's birthday and please bless him to save some cake for me."

and now I'm drawing a blank on some of the other great prayers you've said lately....

--You have pretty good style, I have to admit. I let you dress yourself quite a bit, partially because I just love the adorable outfits you put together. You truly express yourself through your clothes and I love to see those expressions. So if you are a teenager now and are mad at me for letting you go out in public like that, just remember that I just couldn't get enough of how much it showed that sparkling personality. Also if you are a teenager now, just remember that I've been letting you dress yourself from the time you were two, so now it's time to back off and let me have a turn....

--You are still so dang smart. You amaze me with how your mind works and the things you are capable of understanding.

--You love the gospel and have a personal relationship with Jesus. Wherein he teaches you all sorts of things that I never even knew, like that you are allowed to never eat bechtables, and other things of a sci-fi nature.

PEEPL DIVRV LIMUNAD

This weekend was an All-American, truly rejuvenating weekend.

The weather was slightly crisp, breezy, but sun-shiny and clear. There were garage-sales all over and there was a buzz of excitement in the air. I guess the combination of the changing of the seasons with football season. I don't know. But people around here are happy.

First of all, it was Bikes, Blues, and Barbeques time in nearby Fayetteville, which means that thousands of bikers were in town.

This is not a picture that I took. This is from the Bikes, Blues and BBQ's flickr page.

Swarms. Bone-rattling swarms. Every where you turned you could see a handful of leather-clad, bandana-draped, goatee-ed bikers. The rumble was pert-near constant. And this made me oh-so homesick in an almost comfortable, nostalgic and pleasant way. I missed my daddy. And along with him my mom, and sibs, and Utah in the fall. And the mountains. But mostly Dad (who is pictured clean-shaven below, which he usually is not when it's time for a big ride).

Saturday morning was a soccer game for Team Freedom. As always, the whole family attended. As always, Campbell spent the whole game trying to get out there and kick the "chocka baaah" and attain a "gooooo!" (goal). I had to run onto the field in the middle of the game several times to pull her out of the goal, where she loves to pop her head through the netting. And, as always, she was pretty safe in the goal where Team Freedom was trying to score, since most of the time they don't get anywhere near it. Our team is full of adorable girls, but for some reason the other teams of 4 year olds seem to "get it" where our girls just...don't. It's such a joy to watch, though.

Spencer and I had a moment of conflict at one game where in a jumble of 6 four-year-olds and 1 soccer ball, a girl on the opposing team fell and was mildly hurt. The ball was sort of sitting there next to the girl on the ground as mass confusion clouded the players minds. Our hands cupped our lips at the same time and just as I was about to yell, "stop and help her up!!" Spencer yelled, "Quit looking at her and get the ball!!!" We looked at eachother in disgust and after much debate finally decided that in sports, he has the "right of way", and I'll take the wheel with all other relationship advice and interpersonal interaction training.... and after that tangent, I'll just say the game was even more fun than usual on Saturday.

That's Cadence with the ball (a rare moment caught on camera!)

We got home from the game and wandered around a few of our neighborhood garage sales and got back just in time for the saturday session of General Conference to start (a twice-yearly opportunity for all the members of our church--or anyone for that matter-- to hear from the Prophet and apostles that are leading the church to day--amazing!). I was all excited to fold clothes and watch at the same time and so I became quite annoyed when Cadence and Spencer came in and announced that we, too would have a garage sale. I guess Cadence really wanted one, so Spencer allowed it. So we helped her set up some tables with stuff we were going to donate to Goodwill, and then we made some Chrystal Lite Lemonade (it's safe for Fructose-fussy tummies). Cadence made her own sign.

It said, "People Deserve Lemonade" (You can see it if you look closely, but the PEEPLE is backwards, and underneath "Divrv"). So true. She stood there and boldly made eye contact and smiled and waved at every passerby. She was so excited when somebody waved back, and it sort of broke my heart every time she said, "Mom, they saw me but they didn't wave."

Anyway, she made about $4 on the lemonade and we sold one thing from our pile of junk, and we packed up and went in. It was so fun to see her little enterprise in action. Last minute, though it was.

Thank goodness for DVR. Once the kids were in bed we got all caught up on conference.

from:

Saturday night we went and hung out with some of the very wonderful families (sans husbands, since it was priesthood session of the conference) and Sister Chandler said that she found Campbell out in the streets when she was coming to the front door at the Douglas's. But no poisons were ingested and only one Douglas' family toothbrush was used by Cam, (sorry Bryce), so all was well there!

And Sunday was a glorious day, wasn't it? Since conference doesn't start until 11:00 am for us, we got to have a slow morning, and then we joined some friends for brunch and let the kids play while we watched conference and cuddled babies. It was divine.

And then, after letting the kids wear themselves out completely with their friends, we took them home, put the babies down, got nice and cozy on the couch, and snuggled through the final session of the glorious conference. Especially wonderful--Cadence did not want to color, or paint or any other quiet activity while we watched conference. She wanted to watch with us. And so I held her in my arms and she fell asleep right there in my lap, and I got to snuggle with her and Spencer the entire time. Oh, what a treasure.

Wasn't conference fantastic?!? Oh, man. I just loved it. It seems I was able to actually hear and pay attention to so much more than I usually can. I think that's greatly due to DVR.

And all the while that all that was happening, I was in one of those totally irrational cranky, irritable, should-a-kept-my-mouth-shut kind of moods. Thank goodness my husband was able to keep it a little curbed for me, rather than stir it up. Because of him, I was able to enjoy a completely fulfilling weekend.

But who could be grumpy with these adorable faces following them around?

The Reverence Miracle

A few weeks ago our Bishop asked each family to hold a family night lesson on "Reverence in the Chapel and Keeping it Clean". I hung my head in shame when I first heard it and even felt a tinge of offense. I quickly brushed those feelings under the rug, knowing very well that that was not at all what the Bishop's aim was. And in fact, as I thought on it, was grateful for this inspired suggestion, as it was the perfect solution (or beginning to one) to the weekly struggle, fight, battle that is church for our family right now. (Including grabbing Cam off of the stand at least once every week.)

As I began my preparations for family night I realized that I wasn't preparing myself for the battle very well. The "church bag" was a sorry excuse for one. So I went to Hobby Lobby and stocked up on a few things, and got to work preparing a battle-station in a bag. (Side note: one trick I did already have up my sleeve, and has been working well for us: snacks. I hate snacks at church, but they do keep little mouths happy. So here is what I do: Only a parent controls the snacks. A child is allowed one piece of snack at a time, and the child does not reach into the container. The child signs "more please" silently and the parent gives them one piece, they eat it, and then ask for more by signing. This helps maintain a great deal of control over the mess and chaos of snacktime. And the kids kind of like that they have to ask in sign language, which, of course, keeps them quieter.)

The family home evening lesson was well received, with practices of reverent feet, hands, mouths, etc, role-playing, and stories. And then the rest of the week was craft time...or was supposed to be. I did buy a brand new bag--a back pack so that when I'm slinging my RS Secretary bag and two babies while wearing heels, I won't be head-cursing about the diaper bag swinging around and whacking babies in the head.

Saturday night of that same week, I was frantically trying to finish preparations. After all, the next day was Stake Conference, and that means 2 hours of the typically 1 hour and 15 battle. Spencer went to bed at 10:30 and reminded me not to get too attached to the idea that this was going to work for more than 10 minutes.

I continued working on my projects: 3 I Spy bean bags of felt and rice; felt book with felt doll and hair, clothes, and accessories; folder with gospel coloring pages and blank sheets for "notes". I packed the whole bag: parmesan goldfish (leave a little less mess since they're white), a few quiet baby toys, hand puppets, three books, and the new church toys I had just made.

I laid down at 3 in the morning and thought about what Spencer had said. I thought about how miserable Stake Conference tends to be with these little ones. And then I thought about something that I heard in the adult session of Stake Conference that very night. The message that came to mind was about the Brother of Jared and that he did all the preparations for their journey across the waters that he could, and then turned to the Lord and had the faith to say, "I've done what I can, now if you'll just touch these stones so that we may have light...." And then I said a little prayer. "Lord, I've done the best I could do. I've done all I can. But it will take a miracle to get these kids to be reverent in Stake Conference tomorrow. Please, give us a miracle."

And folks, a miracle is what it was. Literally. We weren't even sitting on a pew. It was in a highschool auditorium (a big one), with theatre seats, the kind that flip up. And Campbell actually fell asleep for most of the time. Can you believe it? And Cadence was happily, quietly engaged in coloring and exploring the new toys. And Layla was tired and cranky but the couple next to us was patient and understanding and when I went to take Layla to the back, they said, "She's not too loud. Stay here." And when she was too loud, they took her and calmed her right down! I knew that the Lord had heard my prayer. And I knew he was trying to teach me a lesson.

Rewind a few weeks. It's just a week and a half before Cadence is going to be starting preschool. I have been looking everywhere, including trying to contact past doctors and even the State of Illinois, looking for Cadence's immunization record. I could't even remember if I ever had a copy of it in the first place. We have moved so much in the last four years, where to even start!?! Is there even a complete record of her immunizations anywhere in the world? I had to have it to give to her school or she couldn't start. I was panicky. I didn't know what to do. I had literally checked every place I knew of to look. Day after day I would revisit the file cabinet and other stacks of documents, looking for it.

One day I accepted defeat. I dropped to my knees and, completely humbled, told the Lord that I needed a miracle. If they had to appear out of nowhere, the Lord could do it. But I couldn't. A miracle. Please.

It's weird because I'm not really in the habit of asking for my own miracles. But I did it that day. I stood up. I calmly walked back to the file cabinet. I could see a folder I hadn't seen in years. A folder I thought had been recycled. I could just see it right there in the cabinet where it wasn't supposed to be. Like, if it were a movie, it would have been glowing or something. It wasn't, but it somehow caught my eye immediately. And there, inside the folder, were her immunization records. Complete. Multiple copies of them. I didn't even know I had them. Gratitude and Relief washed over me. Thank you.

The lesson is this: The work I'm doing is endless and tireless and overwhelmingly important. And I can't do it all. There is no way I can keep up with every thing I'm trying to do. To do my calling perfectly, keep my house acceptable (not even going for perfection here), to read my scriptures and my Ensign and the book group book, to keep up with those friends that I care about and keep in touch with family, and give my kids all the attention and affection and learning and nurturing that they need...it just can't all happen at once. And the Lord knows. So I do my best. And I work harder than I think I can, and then if I have faith to ask for a miracle, the Lord will help me. After all, aren't we partners in parenting with the Lord? If I believe that the Lord is a "God of Miracles", why wouldn't He happily bless me with miracles as I try to raise these children He has lent me? It's like I suppose that the Lord has a limit to how many miracles He can do in a day, and I don't qualify. I'm pretty sure that's not quite how it works.

If I have "faith sufficient", and I'm truly putting forth the effort to do those things that are asked of me, the Lord can make the "stones" that I bring before him into bright and shiny heavenly lights. Oh, and he can for you, too.

See my stones, glowing with the Light of the Lord (Layla's getting there :) ? Man, what is better than motherhood?

He Beat Me Again...

Spencer doesn't actually beat me in the wife-beating sense.  I just mean that every year I fail at making his birthday special, and he manages to make mine excede all my wild expectations (and I do have wild expectations for my birthdays).

Spencer's birthday was on a monday, in my defense, only a week after starting a new job, and only three weeks after moving, so naturally every moment up to that day I had been spending unpacking and doing the general business of getting settled into a place.  Now that I've excused myself...

Luckily, Cadence is at the perfect age to make any birthday exciting.  She was all for spending the entire day in preparation for birthday celebrations.

We decorated the patio.

We decorated the breakfast nook.

We made paintings and drawings and cards.

We decorated "gift boxes" for all the little gifts I could find at Walmart.

Since we didn't really have much by way of friends at that point, we just had a party unto ourselves, which is quite uncharacteristic for us, you may know.  So I tried to make it cool.  I made (quite yummy) hamburgers for dinner, and then sent them all out to run in the sprinklers while I set up for the final activity before cake presents, roasting marshmallows in the fire pit (actually on the fire pit with our camping grill, since I forgot to buy charcoals--lam-ish, I know).

And all the praise and thanks and love that Spencer's birthday letter would have included will be alluded to in my birthday summation, so let's just move right on to that!

My birthday, unlike Spencer's lameness, was on a Saturday of a 4-day weekend.  And if you know me, you know my birthday lasts for at least two weeks.  The week before and the week following.  And longer, if I want.  I tried to throw myself a totally awesome party that I was sure the whole of Northwest Arkansas and maybe into Missouri and OK would want to come to, but I made the mistake of having my birthday on the first day of BYU football.  Obviously, we had to reschedule.  The next Saturday had a game that ended earlier, so we postponed.

So Spencer and the girls dedicated the entire weekend to me.  Saturday after I slept in we went to "War Eagle Cavern", where we saw an old-fashioned working flour mill and then went to see the cave and mine for gems.  Oh yeah, we got some, alright.  It was so exciting for the kids.  We had a lot of fun and it tuckered the kids (and Spencer and I) right out.

That night I got to choose exactly how to spend our time, so I chose to go to the place where a mom can be a mom... Chuck E Cheese!  The kids thought this was a necessary ingredient to birthday celebrations, and what better way to spend my birthday than to see my kids having fun?  Spencer made (bought) me a beautiful and delicious Red Velvet Cake and we laughed at how much smoke that big collection of candles had made--probably more candles than any one cake at Chuck E Cheese had ever had...

Once we got home we picked up a sitter and Spencer and I were off on a date.  We had a great time seeing a movie that was refreshingly different though not necessarily one I would recommend to just anybody (Scott Pilgrim Vs the World).  We sure did have a good time together, though.

Monday (labor day) was my second birthday, and I told him that all I wanted was to have the whole day to accomplish all my to-do's.  He took the kids to the lake, he took them out and played soccer, he fed them, bathed them.  Then we all went to a matinee.

What a perfect weekend!

And then the next Saturday we had my party.  It rocked.  We rocked.  I try to be careful of posting about acitivities that may seem to exclude others, but I think there is only one friend who reads my blog from Arkansas, and she was there.   Here you go, a taste of the awesomeness:

Spencer put a lot of thought into my presents, into the planning and execution of my birthday(s).  As he always does.  He knows just how to make me feel special and loved and appreciated.  Time and money are two things that he is acutely aware of in the way he spends them.  But for me, he has all the time (and to a more limited degree, money) in the world.  Next year, you're going to get a sound beating--in the birthday sense--my love.

FIRST DAY OF PRESCHOOL

Cadence started preschool today!  She was really excited about it, of course.  Spencer stayed home with the babies for a few minutes while I went and got her all settled in.  Her preschool is in the back of a gymnastics center and so she was really excited to see all the equipment and especially the "pit".  She got busy playing and soon was happy to say goodbye to me.

When I picked her up 3 hours later, I eagerly asked the broad, open-ended questions, "So, tell me--how was preschool!?!"
Her response was sharp and full of disdain, "We didn't learn anything."
     "Nothing?"
"We didn't play with anything.""
      "hmmmm..."
"We didn't have gummy worms for snacks, we didn't have stories, and we didn't do gymnastics." 
       "Uh, ok, what did you do?"
"We didn't do anything."
        "Did you make any new friends?"
"Yes," (Yay, I thought to myself, finally a positive answer!) "But I don't remember their names."
I tried and tried to get information out of her.  This is what I eventually got:

"I did go potty at school... a lot."

"I did jump in the pit.  But then the teacher told me to get out."

I found a handout the teacher had sent home with a poem about the "kissing hand", about how the parent kisses the kids palm and then the kid can put that hand over her heart whenever she misses the parent at school, and lo-n-behold, she had a little red heart drawn on her hand.  This was something that she loved and talked about frequently the rest of the day, and redrew and redrew and redrew the heart on her palm, all day.

And way, way later, she told Daddy that she loved the game where they got to hit the balloons up in the air.

So, I have no idea what actually went on in school today.  Is this what every day is like for a parent of a school child?  Maybe a teenager...

In anycase, she looked so cute, but  I didn't get pictures of her because we were in a big rush.  She was adorably excited and a little nervous, and she adapted quite well.  This much I do know.  And she is excited to go back on Friday, in spite of all the things she claims they didn't do.