Everything is Fine

I finished reading a stack of our favorite Little Critter books to the kids and sent them upstairs to play in their bedrooms. The doorbell rang. I peeked through the peep hole with Summer (the puppy), breaking the rules that don't allow her in the family room, winding around my legs. To my surprise, there was a handsome Sheriff's Deputy standing patiently on my door step. I opened the door cautiously to avoid letting Summer escape.

"Is everything here OK, Ma'am?"

Well, other than that I have raging allergies, didn't get a shower yet, and I own a crazy hyper puppy. "Yes, of course, everything is fine."

He informed me that they had received a disconnected 911 call from my home. Really? Molly had been playing with the phone while we were reading books. I had taken it away from her when I heard the warning beeping noises. I explained that the mistake was probably to blame on my one-year-old daughter.

"Can we check the call history on your phone?" Sure.

He waited, while I searched for the phone between the cushions of the couch, while wrestling a puppy and grateful that I had vacuumed earlier that morning. The telephone only remembered the last four calls. While there was no proof that Molly had dialed 911, her last four calls were telling: 6; *811; 211 and 871111111111111. Given her propensity to dial the one, I thought that the chances that she had also dialed 911 were pretty darn good.

Embarrassed, I rambled my apologies. I might have even randomly mentioned that my sister is a 911 dispatcher and so I know the seriousness of wasting the resources of our fine, fine police force. The deputy forgave us and left me to the insanity that is my life as a mom.

By midnight, I was seriously wishing that the deputy had hauled Molly off to jail. Standing in her crib, she figured out that she could turn on and off the light. Molly thought it was hilarious. Her sisters/roommates, who were amused the first few times, had ceased to find it funny at midnight. I finally had to move her crib away from the light switch. Then, she screamed. And screamed. Molly has usually been a great sleeper. I've been able to put her into bed (around 9 p.m.) and she'll go right to sleep. But yesterday, she refused to take a nap during the day and wouldn't go to bed either. I am so hoping it was an isolated event. Possibly a result of the chocolate chips I shared with her in the evening. Darn that giant, resealable bag of chocolate chips from Costco.

Molly has finally started walking too. The extra mobility has definitely aided the naughty factor. I am lamenting that my youngest, tiniest, last baby is turning into a toddler already. Good thing she's still cute.

Molly's mug shots:

Yes, she enjoys eating sand.

Overheard Conversation

Four year old Thomas explaining to two year old Lilly why she couldn't watch Up yesterday:

"Today is Sunday.

Sunday is the day we go to church.

Church is where we learn about Jesus.

Jesus is God.

God is love.

God is kindness.

God is not fighting, hitting or pinching."

Coats and Steamers

Neal woke up early this morning and complained of pain in his right ear. I told him that I'd take him to the InstaCare after the Primary activity this morning and he went back to bed. When I went to check on him later, I found him in his bed crying. He said his ear was extremely painful and asked me to take him to the InstaCare now.  Utah Dad agreed to take the other kids to the activity while we were gone.

On the way to the IntaCare (best invention ever), I took the opportunity in the car to lecture Neal about not wearing a coat. The temperatures have been well below zero in the morning when he goes to school and we are constantly fighting to get him to wear his coat. He usually takes it off as soon as he's out of the house. I told him the cold air wasn't good for his ear and probably exacerbated the infection.

We only had to wait a few minutes for the doctor this morning. He reminded me of a combination of my dad and my stake president. If you don't happen to know my dad or my stake president, just picture a good looking but slightly grizzled from too much time in the sun without sunscreen, clean-cut cowboy/farmer that gives it to you straight. This guy just happened to have the letters "MD" behind his name too.

He checked Neal's ears and sure enough he had a moderate infection in his right ear. While the doctor wrote a prescription for an antibiotic, I brought up the coat issue.

"Nah," the doctor said. "He doesn't need to wear a coat. His grandma might think so, but the cold won't hurt him. He's probably doesn't feel cold and if he is uncomfortable he'll put on his coat. I rarely wear a coat."

Neal gave me that look--that you-were-wrong-hahaha look and I knew right then that I will never be successful in getting him to wear his coat again.

On a lighter note, after the visit to the doctor Neal and I went to Walmart to get his prescription filled. While we waited we got some milk and diapers. Neal noticed that they had the Coconut Creme flavor of Coffee-mate and he begged me to buy it.

My sister introduced us to "Steamers" two winters ago and they have become a favorite in my house since then. Thomas calls it "hot milk" and asks for it on the cold mornings. It's just milk warmed up (I heat it up by the mug full in the microwave) with a tablespoon or so of the Coffee-mate added. (By the way, Coffee-mate does not contain coffee. If the word "coffee" bothers you, get the other brand--it's good too.) We've tried lots of flavors. Italian Sweet Creme with a dash of nutmeg and Belgian Chocolate Toffee have been our favorites.

Until Today.

Today we came home and we all tried the Coconut Creme flavor. Yum. The boys liked it plain. I added some Chocolate Nesquik to mine. It made me feel all toasty inside.

It's cold outside. Really cold. We still have months of winter ahead of us. And unlike some of my luckier neighbors, I don't have a trip to the warmer weather planned. The truth is depressing. But it gets a little more bearable with the thought that I can drink steamers in the mornings. And I, at least, will wear my coat.

Hide and Seek

Day Light Savings Time. Hmm. There are definitely some irritations about the time change but I like to focus on the benefits.

• It may get dark earlier at night but I'm no longer sending my kids to school before the sun rise in the morning.
• We adjust our already early bed times. Normally our kids are in bed by seven thirty. Lights out by eight. We haven't had any whining when we turn the lights out a half an hour earlier now.
• It's cozy. We stay inside more. Read together. Cuddle. Eat soup. We'd light the fire if we had one.
• And finally . . .

We especially love to play hide and seek in the evenings. We turn out all the lights. We can only hide upstairs. One person counts. Everyone else hides. The basic rules. Everyone knows.

Playing hide and seek with toddlers is hilarious. Walk into a dark room and ask, "Where is Lilly?" She'll jump out and tell you. The older kids are starting to become better at hiding. They know how to curl their small bodies into the darkest corners and stay quiet. When Utah Dad and I hide we have to be extra sneaky or we'll end up with one of those toddlers cuddling with us and giving us away. Utah Dad's hiding spots are limited because of his size but he manages. I am the champion hider (as long as one of the toddlers/babies isn't hiding with me). Occasionally, I hide so well they can't find me and I have to jump out and scare them a little too.

It's funny that when you turn out the lights, a perfectly safe house during the day becomes spooky. Thomas hid in his bedroom closet (which is a generally spooky place at night) and we could hear him talking, "Okay, ghostesses, spiders and monsters, don't find me. I'm just hiding from Neal." We explained to him (probably unsuccessfully) that he didn't need to be afraid of anything. We spray for spiders.

Good Bye to Soccer Season

Amberly decided that she wanted to play soccer this year. She enjoyed watching Neal play last year and she thought it looked like fun. We signed her up and she lucked out to be on a team with our favorite coach. She played on a team with many other kids from our neighborhood.

Each Tuesday evening at practice, Amberly was excited to go. She kicked the ball around a little, skipped around the field and joked with her friends. Most of the time she appeared to be on another planet from the other soccer players. I'm very sure she wasn't on the same planet as her coach.

That's my Amberly with the pink soccer socks and the pink skirt (fashion is important even during soccer).

During the games she ran with the other kids and sometimes she even seemed to know where the ball was. She always had a positive attitude. Just before every game she'd tell the coach with honest enthusiasm that she'd score a goal for him.

I actually got one picture of Amberly kicking the ball. If the ball happened to come to her, by some miracle, she did do her best to kick it or at least try to kick it. Her dad offered to pay her a dollar if she kicked the ball ten times in one game. He saved his money.

Amberly's final game of the season was on Thursday night. It was cold--as in 44 degrees cold. She wore layers. Stylish, don't you think.

Amberly's coach really wanted her to get a chance to score a goal, so during the final quarter of the game, he sent her to stand by the goal and wait for the ball to come. If it got close to her she was supposed to kick the ball right in the goal. She obeyed her coach and hurried to her position. In fact, she never left it. Even when the goalie from the other team gave her a shove and she fell flat on her back. She just got back up and stood there some more. I wish I had gotten a picture of that shove. I did get some pictures of some of the other goalie/Amberly interaction.

She did a great job of distracting the goalie, that is for sure.

Can you see her in the back ground of this picture? Does it look like she has any idea where the ball is? Do you think that if the ball had gotten any where near her she would have known it? She is very focused on the goal and that darn goalie.

When the game was finally over and the soccer players hurried over to get their treats and their medals, Amberly was still standing by the other team's goal box. She may have been frozen solid. I called her name for a few minutes before she realized that the game had ended and she joined her team on the sidelines.

Amberly's major contribution to her soccer team this season was the beautiful poster she colored for her coach. She made sure to include each one of her teammates in the picture. What can I say? The girl is an artist. A soccer player, not so much--at least not until next year. Because after the game, I asked her if she wanted to play again next year. I was expecting her to say "no" like she did when I asked if she still wanted to take dance classes (she loved the tutu). She surprised me. She got a big smile and said, "yes! I love soccer."