Spring?

I've always thought it unfortunate that the calendar and the weather can't coordinate better. This week was supposed to be the start of Spring--so of course, we had snow (a good inch or three) two different days this week. Since the weather has been inclement, we've been trying to stay entertained indoors.

The kids love painting. I like painting too, I admit, but I'm less excited about the kids painting because of the clean-up involved. But this little project did keep them both occupied for a good twenty minutes, which is always a plus.

We've also played board games (I almost wrote "bored" games--which would also be appropriate. Let me just say that I no longer love candyland).

And if all else fails, there's costumes . . .
And for the record, that is a shirt that Andrew has on his nether regions. I think he looks like a Twi'lek from Star Wars. (Lest you give me more geeky cred than I deserve, Dan is the one who told me what they were called--I said, "he looks like that blue lady on Star Wars").





Friday was our international day--we're on "J" this week, so I delegated cooking to Dan. (We had chicken katsu on Friday and tempura yesterday). That prompted the following exchange with Evelyn.

E: Where's Daddy?
Me: He's in the kitchen.
E: NO! He doesn't belong in the kitchen!

Later, when I asked her why Dan didn't belong in the kitchen, she said, "because I love him." I asked if *I* belong in the kitchen. "Yes," she said. Why? "Because you love me." (And there you have it--two-year-old logic that has set the feminist movement back 40 years . . . ).

She also climbed on my lap the other day while I was trying to email a student, and burped in my face. "Nice burb," I said. She smiled winningly. "It was a princess burp."

Yesterday Bubby, Andrew, Ike, Zoe (our neighbors kids) and I went to a local children's production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It was a lot of fun--and surprisingly well done for a performance whose leading man was 9 (I know this because his mom is in my book group) and the oldest actor on stage was perhaps 16. They did have some fun playing with ages, though--Jacob, the patriarch, was this sweet baby-faced boy who can't have been more than seven, and who was easily the shortest person on stage. And the scene where Potipher's wife (a well-endowed 15 or 16 year old) tries to "seduce" Joseph was surprisingly funny, since the boy's look of terror didn't seem entirely feigned. For a wonder, Andrew was actually entranced for most of the play, and even admitted afterward that he liked it. (He did ask several times toward the end if it was over--but mostly, I think, because he couldn't tell at the end of a number if that was the end, not because he actually wanted to be out of the building).

Since we haven't been following the NCAA tournament too closely, we weren't too upset by the dramatic bracket demolishing games of the week (at least, that's the complaint I hear from friends), but we did actually watch the end of the BYU game (or at least, Dan did)--I even turned on the TV to see what the score was, which I know will shock my parents no end. But it's true.

Here's hoping that our few faithful readers had good weeks--and that the weather will warm up asap!

Spring Break (and the Ides of March)

Well, we managed to avoid any untoward things happening on Tuesday, though it was the ides of March. Mostly, we enjoyed the week. We enjoyed the warmer weather for the first part of our break (although Monday and Wednesday were spent mostly doing chores)--we finished cleaning up our yard for spring and clearing out all the pruned branches and then we budged the house before we left to go up north.

It hasn't all been work, though. The kids got to try out their bikes for the first time in ages; Evelyn had a play-date Tuesday afternoon (the little girl in question is only a few months older than Evelyn, but she's almost as tall as Andrew); and Wednesday morning our neighbor kindly invited Andrew over to make "creature power suits" (as seen in Andrew and Ike's favorite show, PBS Kid's Wild Kratts). Tuesday morning, Dan went fishing with Poppy. (Word is that Dan caught all the fish.)

In keeping with our weekly culinary world tour, this week we hit "I" and doubled up on Ireland and Italy. We celebrated St. Patty's day a day early, since we weren't sure how my parents would react to corned beef and cabbage (let's just say our kids weren't too fond of it either, although it was actually quite tasty). For Italy, we kind of cheated and had some pre-made mushroom ravioli that my mom had at her house.

Probably the most momentous occasion of the week was the fact that Andrew is now registered for kindergarten. (Actually, it wasn't nearly as exciting as we'd anticipated, but the deed is done.) Part of me still can't believe he's old enough.

Thursday morning, we drove up to Provo, where we spent the next four days shopping (me and my mom) and hanging out with various family--mostly my sister and her family and Sarah and her family. The kids loved seeing their grandparents and cousins and were sorry to leave. As for us? We have a little more perspective on departures (although we also enjoyed ourselves)--we're mostly sorry that classes start up again tomorrow.

Here's some pictures, to make up for our weeks of neglect.

Evelyn in her Tiana dress (her reward for going poop in the potty 7 times).

My attempt at a "big girl" hair-do for Evelyn (and evidence that, general appearance to the contrary, we do try to comb her hair and make her look presentable--she's just generally resistant to ponies, and headbands and barrettes don't stay in very long.)


Evelyn and Sydney playing "princesses." (Good thing grandma keeps us well stocked in princess dress-ups).

Andrew, in his "creature power suit." My understanding is that it's not quite finished, and they're supposed to have another play date to finish it up.

Andrew and Evelyn on St. Patrick's day, enroute to grandma's house. (Thus the backpacks.)

My weekly maundering

As we slouch towards spring break, it seems like we have less and less to say. The weather finally warmed up, which meant that the kids were finally let out into the backyard, where they enjoyed themselves immensely in our sandbox (which I hate--not so much because of the sand, but because it's nearly impossible to cover and therefore attracts all the neighborhood cats), and where Evelyn also left her shoes and socks.

The warmer weather also meant that it was time for yard chores--we spent most of yesterday trying to prune the various fruit trees in our yard (we don't have much experience with this, so time alone will tell whether we did a good job or killed the trees by over-pruning). Our yard chores were a little complicated by the fact that Evelyn was running a high fever and didn't want to do anything but sit on my lap--luckily, she fell asleep around 10 a.m. (definitely a fever by-product, that's not normal for her--and she took another nap around 3), so I was able to help Dan while she slept. I took her to Instacare after she woke up, where, naturally, she perked up immediately and showed few signs of being sick at all.

Friday we hit the letter "H," which meant, of course, that we learned about Hungary. Mostly, this was an excuse for me to play Hungarian music I picked up on my mission and cook paprikas cirke (chicken paprikash)--one of my favorites from my mission. After dinner, we looked through some picture books that we brought home; I was intensely nostalgic, but my kids were mostly bored.

Other events of note: our neighbors just brought over fresh beignets (pronounced "ben-yay," the famous New Orleans-style doughnut, which also figures prominently in Disney's Princess and the Frog, since these are the "man-killing" treats that Charlotte hires Tiana to cook for her guests). So I suppose we can both die happy now.

princess and her potty reprise

(With thanks to Kristine for calling me on this). Apparently, I never got to the point of my title in Sunday's post. Evelyn is making huge strides in potty training (hooray!). She was accident free most of last week (if you except the diapers she wore for naptime and nighttime--and the poppy diaper she removed herself during naptime, while a sitter was here, and she was sleeping in my bed . . . luckily, there was only a small mess on the bed; mostly, as the sitter reported, this involved her holding her dress away from her body and crying because her bum was dirty). But, the biggest sign that this may actually be the real deal was on Sunday: the nursery leader brought her to me because she'd said she needed to use the bathroom. I thought for sure she would have gone (she was wearing a diaper) before we finally reached a bathroom, but to my surprise she was not only dry, but she proceeded to do both #1 and #2 in the potty at church. We might actually be out of diapers at our house in the foreseeable future.

Segullah

I'm over at Segullah today.

The princess and her potty

Somewhere I have pictures, but I lack the energy to currently post them. Maybe later.

I realize that my last post was rather down-beat--I want to express thanks to all of you who have expressed sympathy. All things considering, we're doing pretty well (physically, emotionally, etc.). There are just moments that catch me off guard, like the moment in the doctor's office and a moment (more accurately, a series of moments) yesterday in the temple.

Otherwise, things mostly go on as normal--taking care of kids, teaching, spending time with my husband when I can. A couple of highlights from this week: Thursday night Dan let me escape for a girl's night out--we went to the pastry pub and ordered decadent desserts and then went to the Petersen's where we continued our conversations. It's always amazing to me how much women can talk when we're motivated. :)

We've continued our cooking around the world fest. Last week (which I neglected to mention), we made a French-style lentil soup and had asparagus with hollandaise sauce (which I had never had before--very rich, probably not an every day sort of thing). This week, we indulged in all things German. (Sort of). For our Friday night meal, I made sauerkraut (not entirely authentic, since the real thing apparently takes 6 weeks of fermenting in the basement, and I didn't have that long), German-style potato salad (served warm, with a vinegary sauce), and pork schnitzel. Yum. (Note to self: don't write about food while still fasting.) In honor of German culture, I also played a German CD acquired in my long-ago student days (probably while I was living in the German house) and spent a pleasant 40 minutes or so in memory lane while I cooked, enjoying such classics as "Kussen verboten" (Kissing is forbidden) and "Mein bester Freund" ("My best friend is Robin Hood . . . and Sherlock Holmes . . . because he fights against injustice in the world"). It was also nice to remember that I haven't quite forgotten all the German I learned in school (although I have forgotten a fair portion).

Yesterday, we went south again to the temple. It was particularly crowded since it was the first Saturday after a 2 week closure, but I needed to go. Dan and I traded off, but unfortunately, because of the crowds, he missed the session he had aimed for. The kids, in the meantime, got to spend a lot of time at the park with their daddy, plus lunch at Red Robin. It's nice, sometimes, to have a break. One more week, and then a real break (hooray for schools with spring break!).

It (would have been) . . . .

This morning I had my two-week check-up following my surgery. The doctor was very kind and sympathetic (which didn't exactly help me maintain my composure), but I found out the following:

1. It was a boy (something that I'd felt when I was carrying him).

2. They don't know what caused the baby to die. There was nothing clearly wrong with either the baby or with me. (Which means most likely an outside infection or something else equally unpreventable).

The second was a relief to know--it wasn't something I could, or should, have done differently. But the first made me start crying again, because it suddenly seemed more real. This wasn't just a nameless mass of tissue--it was a baby boy, who had the potential to become a real human being. After the doctor left (telling me I could take as long as I needed in the room), I found myself rocking back and forth a little, my arms aching for a baby I will never hold.