birthday girl

We had a little party for our girl!  Nothing huge, just with our local family clan.  But it still felt special and fun.  I tried my hand at decorating a cake with better tools and I think it turned out okay!  It makes me excited for the next cake.  We danced, we snacked, we sang to Joanna before she blew out the candles.  Surprising to us, she seem to cower in the spotlight-- and was so sheepish that she almost didn't blow out her candles.  The girl asks to blow out candles almost every day!  I think the attention was too much for her.  I could totally relate.  After rounds of cake and ice cream, Joanna opened thoughtful gifts from Ian's family that she's really attached to.  The final gift was blush and a brush from her aunt Holly--pictured above.  We had a pinãta filled with the gender-revealing color candy of our baby that we tried to open safely without swinging any heavy articles.  We felt defeated by the task until we asked James to take over-- who smashed it open on the ground with renown success-- (revelation here to come later).  It was a comfortable and happy celebration.

We are so grateful for our Joanna girl.  And we can't believe she's two! 

joanna

The other morning I had turned the stove on, readying the pan for some fried eggs.  Peter had pulled up a chair to the side, as usual, hoping to crack some himself. We've been practicing this for a while.  However almost as soon as he had pulled up the chair he left, distracted by something else.  I left the room for a couple minutes to ask Ian something and when I came back Joanna was up on the chair with an eggshell in her hand, held out to me.  I thought she might have picked up an old shell from the carton but then I realized her hands were glistening with egg.  Then I saw the fried egg she had cracked into the pan.  Completely shell free.

Besides feeling some relief that she hadn't burnt herself I was pretty taken aback at her display of self-reliance.  She was so proud of herself.  Do you see that smug face in the last photo? 

This is our Joanna.  I've been thinking a lot about her current stage because she'll be two the end of this week.  She's pretty amazing.  Already fiercely independent.  "I wann ty!" she'll exclaim (I want to try!)  when buckling her seat belt.  Getting her dressed.  Putting on her shoes.  Brushing her teeth.  She wants to tackle it herself.  Typically on the playground, she'll find the most challenging thing to conquer and she'll do it again and again until she feels confident.  It makes her parents stomach drop a bit as we try to buffer her actions but we're also very impressed with her gumption.

She is the sweetest thing.  And she is the meanest thing.  She'll hold my face and snuggle my head.  She'll explain "I yuhh you!" (I love you) spontaneously and thank me after I've changed her diaper.  She'll thank me after almost everything I do for her.  She'll ask for hugs as anyone is leaving the house-- especially daddy.  But the girl can scream like no one else when she's mad.  Or when she wants something.  She says "No!" probably more than anything else in the day-- even if it's just daddy saying her name.  She'll bate her big brother by shutting the door of his room (which he hates) and she'll run away until he comes out to get mad and she'll do it again.  This girl has a wide range of emotions and many ways to express it-- and we love it.  She's a handful at times but adds so much to our lives that we'll take that handful any day. 

She loves to read.  She spends more time turning pages and speaking gibberish as she goes through book after book more than anything else.  She loves Moana and Mulan.  She loves to sing and to color.  She's got a lot of natural rhythm and I love to watch her move differently to each genre of music.  The girl loves her shoes and clothes and especially mommy's makeup.  We are amazed at how much she already knows and how much she is already talking.

We love you Juju.  We're so glad you're in our family. 

snow day

Turns out the best sled we've ever experienced was a large, flat, cardboard box.

daily details

A photo I took in Rexburg a million lives ago

My kids spontaneously hugging and exchanging enthusiastic I love yous 

Seeing bunny tracks in the snow from my kitchen window

My son climbing in bed with me first thing in the morning to snuggle

Microwave mug cakes while catching up on Fixer Upper with my fella

How feeling small baby kicks never gets old.  Not even for a second.

Hearing geese honking in the distance and seeing them in their V formations
 
Waking up on purpose to a quiet house, the day ripe with possibility

Fuzzy throw blankets

Laughing at a funny old movie quote

Reading an inspiring quote that you can't seem to shake for days

Enthusiastic lists and plans for the new year

Sporadic dance parties

Finding a really good recipe for shepherds pie

That moment in your day when you realize how incredible your people are

ireland

Though I missed a lot of potentially good posts last year, I still want to record my experience in Ireland.  It was a very real dream.  And relatively fresh.

I've deliberated on how to do this.  I could do just one post.  It would be forever long with hundreds of photos.  More like an album than a post, really.  But now that I'm considering it, I think I'm going to break it up.  Focus on bits at a time.  Let it be random, even.  I want to savor this one.  And I've been so overwhelmed at the thought of posting it all at once that I think I'll be more likely to record it this way.

It all started when Ian and his brothers went to Iceland in 2016.  So many people called and messaged me asking why he was going to this place they had all dreamed of going.  For fun, I responded.  A brother's trip.  This made everyone all the more crazy.  It wasn't for work or anything.  It was just an opportunity taken.  A very real adventure occurred. 

One of these calls was my oldest sister Micaela.  She told me one of her inspirations for learning to take better photos was a dream of Iceland.  Somehow the conversation turned to where I had always dreamed of going: Ireland.  It's been this thing since I was a kid.  There's something about those green cliffs dotted with sheep and penny walls-- tucked up against a cold shore.  I've gravitated toward films about Ireland and in Ireland my whole life.  Falling in love with their cadence of speech and ability to tell stories.  Something about those thick white-washed cottages and thatched roofs.  A connection to the sea.  Something magic I was sure to find if I ever went.

Mica had been to Ireland.  She and her husband's family had done a European cruise where they hit major points of Ireland along with the more northern countries that trip.  She recalled these incredible villages in the southern tip of Ireland and had felt cheated that they'd spent only a few hours in each place.  She had wanted to go back.  And then it started.  Let's go! she said.  We planned for the end of the school year, the following year-- May 2017.  "This is happening," she said.

And so it was that we were at the Cliffs of Moher around nine months later.

The Cliffs of Moher.  More commonly recognized as the Cliffs of Insanity from The Princess Bride.  This was our first real destination, and it was the perfect beginning.  In the lot they had a car show of old trucks and I had to take photos.  I've never been so enamored by a truck before.  They looked like beautiful toys to me!  Though there were many people, of many nationalities, gathered along those cliffs-- as Mica and I would nestle in a spot to take it in-- it was easy to feel like we were the only ones for miles.  We spent hours that way.  Walking along.  Finding a spot to sit along the edge.  Sitting, breathing, being.  Sometimes together, sometimes alone.  Just thinking about the wind, the smell, and the sound of crashing dark blue waves and birds nesting and chirping in those slate cliffs is making me feel rejuvenated almost a year later.

After this we made our way to our first Air-Bnb-- feeling fairly exhausted from our long flight and hours on the cliffs.  At Miltown Malbay we stopped for some dinner before settling in.  The place we chose had a cheesy name.   Something like "Tasty Restaurant" or something equally generic-- but the chalkboard menu out front sounded promising and we went.  I'm not one to document my food generally, however I'm so glad I took photos of the food we ate while in this magnificent country.  Everything was so delicious.   My meal this night was a light fish in a creamy dill sauce with a side of veggies and mash.  It was warm and comforting after our long day.  For dessert we shared a slice of Ferrero Rocher cheesecake.  It was even better than it sounds.  

peter says

It's been such a long time since I recorded a Peter Says!  I was inspired to this morning because he came up from some Saturday morning cartoons for some food.  I asked if he'd like some cereal and he said no.  And then he thought about it. 

"I would like some cereal without milk."

"So like some snack cereal?  In a bowl?"

"Yes.  That would be so helpful.  Oh and can I have some water please?"

 A neighborhood cat that comes around often.  Peter has named her "Chreesa."

This little exchange probably doesn't sound as adorable as I found it.  I just know my Peter.  And how much he loves having a proper snack with a good show.  When he receives my cooperation he becomes so polite and excited.  His face when I gave him what he asked for was so delighted as he ran back downstairs to watch Justin Time.  (Probably because we almost never give him free reign to watch shows first thing)


Peter is 4 and a 1/2.  Lately I don't have as many direct quotes because our exchanges are getting longer and longer.  He loves to tell me about his "dreams" the night before.  I don't know, maybe they happened.  But it really sounds like a long string of stories involving mine craft tigers and dragons that "have fire in their mouths.'  And bad snakes that get destroyed.  Sharks.  Zombies.  Usually some building or trap they've got into.  A variation of all of the above and some I can't remember.  I should record him sometime.

He asks me a lot about what colors make.  "What does yeyyow and white make?"  And when I respond with "A pale yellow," he'll ask "What does pale yeyyow and yeyyow make?"  He'll ask about blue and green.  He knows it's turquoise now.  Or that yellow and green make what I call "lime."  A lot of times I have to be creative with the color he's asking cause he'll ask a string of colors. "What does blue and green and yeyyow and orange and brown make?"  A lot of times I have to respond brown. 

Ian bought the kids a stuffed animal wolf for Christmas.  Peter has really attached to it and calls it Wolfie, but also his "pooch."  I have no idea where he got that from?  He loves it and tells me all about how it doesn't eat pigs or cows or dogs... only sheep.   However, he doesn't let Wolfie sleep in his room because it will destroy all his Lego's at night.

"That's an excubbery of Kah-nunna."  (wish I'd written down the context.. ha)

Overhearing him while playing Lego “If you give me your body you can have mine!  Okay!  But in some cases it doesn’t work."

“Mom can we make a tree house in the front yard?”
“Well, we don’t have a tree in the front yard.”
“… we could borrow some branches from the tree store!”

That time he looked up at the sky and saw jet lines and said "Dad look!  Powerpuff girls!"

Lately he's been saying "thee" a lot.  "Can you fix thee movie?"  "I want to go to thee playground." "Can you go to thee basement with me?"

"I've got the pow-ah!" he'll shout while playing by himself in his room or jumping on my bed.

He's dubbed our unborn baby "Susky."  I realized after a time that it came from My Neighbor Totoro and he was actually trying to say "Sasuke," the oldest girl in the movie.  But we've been calling the baby Susky all the same.

If there isn't a show on downstairs, Peter is extremely afraid of the basement.  Because of the monsters (there are none of those!  I say...) and the spiders (Well, you got me there...)


He makes us smile so often.  Even when he gets mad I find him cute.  Is that bad?  He's been emphasizing all his words really strongly while clenching his fists at his side.  "I. DON'T. WANT.  TO.  GO.  TO.  BED!"   It's so dramatic-- but kind of adorable.  He's imaginative and sweet.  He's intensely physical and can be a bit much sometimes but he's quick to give you a big hug and snuggle when he knows he's gone too far (and jumped on your belly.  Or headbutted your back.  Or climbed across your face with his knees when you're lying down...)  Ian and I have discussed getting some more recreational things for him to get into at home to help all that energy!   

Every age has been my favorite age.  I love my kids.  Seeing them grow up and slowly make sense of their worlds has become such an incredible aspect of my life. 

why, hello

I remember you. 

No, really I do.  You were this thing that provided a positive outlet and helped me remember to take real photos with my camera.  You caused me to pause and reflect on the current stage of my kids and record big life epiphanies. 

But you also became too much for me.  And then you became almost obsolete.  On an indefinite hold. 

And while I've always semi-intended to come back to you.. I have an inkling that I'd like that to be sooner than later.  I miss this.  The fact is-- writing is my thing.  That is not to say I'm any good at it, but I need it. 

It's been a helluva couple of years.  A lot of change and growth.  As I type this I can feel the growth of my third child in me, finally starting to recognize their movement.  The funny thing about a blog is that it's kind of a public journal.  But the difference is with a journal you forget about, it's only to be recognized by the few posterity who may end up reading it.   A blog is a little harder to re-approach when so neglected.  How do I start again?  Do I summarize the year I've been gone?  Do I back track and do those posts I'd hoped would happen? 

I don't know.

Just as I do with my journals, instead of continuing to ignore it because of the enormity of content I've failed to record, I'm just going to begin again.  I still hope to record my little trip to Ireland.  But other than that... We'll just move forward from here.  Let things happen. 

Just start.