Our Indian Princess

Ella received a very special present from our neighbors across the street who went to India to visit family for a month during the Christmas holidays. When Rinisha got home from her trip, she came over with a beautifully wrapped package -- a gorgeous beaded tunic with pants and a scarf to match. Ella seems to think she is an indian princess now -- she wears this every chance she gets and would probably sleep in it if she could. She even got her hair cut to match Rinisha, and no one can convince her that doesn't look like Rinisha's twin. Her fish-belly white skin, fair hair, blue eyes and blond eyelashes don't faze her in the least.

Scrambled Eggs with Cars

It's been about 3 months since Sam really discovered cars and trucks, and yes, he is OBSESSED. Ella always walked around with a dolly or two (or five, or 15. . . whatever she could fit in her pockets and diaper bag). Luke walks around with a whistle and a tambourine, and Sam, well, he can't eat, sleep or play without at least one car or truck. During breakfast this morning, he had so many cars piled on his tray that I couldn't fit his breakfast on it. I asked him what he wanted me to do. "It fit right theya, mommy" and pushed a few cars to the side. Clearly, there was plenty of room for his eggs. What was I thinking?!

Going a Sweet Tomatoes!

So, the twins are 2 1/2, but they don't communicate like Ella did at this age. They speak in broken english about "NOT my taking nap", "My watch a Scooby Scooby Goo!!!" or "My make a magic snake poo a potty!" Needless to say, it was with surprise and a few stifled giggles that I received Luke's demand when we got home from church on Sunday. He informed me, while holding my alarm clock, "Mommy, we have three minutes. Need to get in the car. We going a Sweet Tomatoes!!" I looked at him, and he smiled a cute little smile and restated his "request". Hmmm. . .maybe we do go there too much. (Oh, and yes, this picture is of Luke on the toilet eating peppermint ice cream. Don't ask! I included this because I didn't have the presence of mind to take a picture of him holding the clock and smiling.)

Yosemite in the winter -- YIPPEEEE!

Okay, while I have a few minutes and have finally downloaded 3 months worth of pictures at one sitting, I'd like to pay tribute to our terribly missed friends, the Fennimores, and thank them for inviting us to cross-country ski with them in Yosemite 4 years ago. Since then, we have made it a tradition to go cross-country skiing in Yosemite each year sometime around President's Day weekend. It's really a stretch to call it cross-country skiing however, since this year, in particular, both Devon and I pulled polk sleds behind us, and Devon carried a child carrier/backpack while we skiied. Too bad we don't have any pictures of that -- the camera ran out of battery power about 30 minutes into our "ski trip". Alas.

When we got to the park, we stopped to play in the snow on the way to our cabin -- we played until dark and we were all completely soaked.

We tried out our new sleds, picked up at the Kmart right outside the park, and found it pretty tricky to avoid the trees.

Ella enjoyed her ride in the sled, but she showed her true colors when we stopped for lunch and she commandeered Devon's skis and poles and skiied up and down a pretty steep hill for over an hour. Sam and Luke were pretty mellow until we broke for lunch, but all their pent-up energy was quickly released as they plowed into each other, pummelled each other with "snow balls" and beat each other with our ski poles.

Sam stuffed cookie after cookie in his mouth whole--almost choked but just kept on doing it until we had to take them away.

Better Late than Never -- Child Family Reunion

Okay, since we're just getting up to speed with the whole blog idea, and since we are desperately lax in our correspondence with our most beloved friends and family, here are a few pictures from our most recent visit to Utah (yes, it was back at Thanksgiving. . . I know, I know) that are LONG overdue. We had a great time playing at the park while Laurel insisted on taking dozens of pictures -- our smiles were WAY past stale by the time we were really set free. . .


We spent time with our six cousins (four 2-year-old boys under one roof--need I say more) riding bikes, fighting over toys, playing in the freezing cold, biting through lips, fighting over toys, admiring the animals at the Bean Museum, destroying Foxy Nana and Foxy Papa's brand new addition, eating ourselves sick, and, well, fighting over toys.


It couldn't have been better, and we can't wait for the summer when we can visit again, cheerfully rearrange the furniture (not on purpose), raise the noise level a few decibels, traumatize poor Maddie, and generally bring happiness, joy and chaos to the nana and papa we love and miss so very much.

Pecked to death by a duck . . .

I honestly can't remember where I heard this the first time, but someone, whoever it was, in an attempt to diffuse a scary parenting situation (I was probably red faced and exasperated, trying to clean yogurt off the rug or peanut butter off the walls) told me that raising small children was like being pecked to death by a duck. I considered this for a moment and then realized how true that felt to me -- the byline of my life. I think of this often when I'm consoling screaming children for the 3rd time in 3 minutes or making dinner with two 32lb weights sitting on my feet, and I realize that being pecked to death by a duck isn't the worst way to go. Sometimes it's downright enjoyable.