"You're a Mean One, Mister Grinch..."

Ok, I'll admit that it has been awhile since I have seen any of the old school clay-mation /puppet Christmas movies from my childhood. Aaron bought a DVD set with 10 or so of the classics in it, like Frosty, Rudolph, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, etc. There are 4 DVD's in the case, each with a couple short movies on it, so we thought that we would watch one each weekend with the kids until Christmas. Here we have the essentials:
1) Christmas cookies -thank you refrigerated break apart cookie dough, for making life so easy. After the million gingerbread men we made, I'm burnt out and shutting down the "homemade" cookie factory for awhile.
2) Santa Jammies -thanks to last year's old navy $2 sale, and

3) Christmas Stuffies -thanks to Uncle Mark & Auntie Melinda's family for the stuffies you gave the girls last year. I packed them away after Christmas, and pulled them out again with the decorations this year. They love them all over again!
4) Movies-holy cow...have you seen any of these lately? Since when is there a BAD GUY? Reese is now terrified of Snowmeizer and thinks he is going to come spoil her Christmas. And Santa? Yeah, he's getting old and no one believes in him anymore, so he is retiring. Reese liked the idea that her snowman might come to life though, look out for the Banshee in Christmas in Kalarmie though...what a wickedly weird movie. Oh and don't forget that all the characters say words like "stupid" and "hate", have incredibly low self esteem that can't be fixed without holiday magic, and no one ever gets along. Oh well, they loved the movies just like we did as kids...and we turned out alright. I mean, I no longer have nightmares of the Snowmeizer, Banshee, Stingy Man or Winter Frost coming to ruin Christmas...so the trauma must wear off eventually.

"Whip Crack Away, Whip Crack Away, Whip Crack Away"

I set Reese to work vacuuming the fireplace hearth. It gets VERY dirty, VERY quickly, because we are lazy when we bring in firewood and let it make a huge mess. Reese is responsible for helping us keep the area clean. (Why? Because I am a mean mom and I make my kids do chores. That's why.)
This was the scene when I left the room...

And when I returned, we had a cowgirl in our living room! Yeehaw!

Quincy found her a hat.

Later, she made herself a "boat".
Isn't she cute? This picture oddly reminds me of one we have of Scotty on a bucket in the wading pool, in the Petersen's backyard. Quin was the shark, of course.

I wish I'd taken a picture of the "Scary Mean Tooth Fishes" in the water. She took all the fish from the "Lets Go Fishing Game" (remember that game? -with the magnetic hooks and the little pond that spins them around?) and sprinkled them around in the "water". Clever.

Friends came over, and the "horsey/paddle" converted nicely into a swords and spyglasses for Peter Pan and Captain Hook.

Q got to be Tinkerbell (for once) as opposed to a "Lost Boy" or "Baby Indian", which are her usual assigned roles. I think it was because the velcro wings from the Tinkerbell dress could stick to her sleeper jammies.
Unfortunately, Quincy's "job" as Tinkerbell, was to "take a nap in the boat, or Cap'n Hook'll feed you to the hungry crocodile." Nice.

Tinkerbell: Obedient 2 year old female seeks non-bossy big sister.

That night, the nightgown was put on, but cowgirl boots and a "whip" (the pole from the "lets go fishing game) were added. She was singing "the windy city, the windy city..." over and over again. I love it.
I caught Calamity using her horsey as a rifle a few times. I'm a little concerned about gun play working it's way into our house. I don't allow toy guns/ gun play in our house. "Man Eating Scary Tooth Fishes"-fine, but no guns. I know most people disagree with that one, since toy guns are harmless, and pretty much awesome (remember the marshmallow guns? Or how about the rubber band guns from grandma and grandpa?), but I have my reasons.
One: I do not like real guns. Simple.
Two: I don't like the idea of kids being able to play "kill" each other..which happens more often than not with gun play. Freaks me out.
Three: too many of our friends have guns in their home, and you just can't mix in gun play, when there are real guns around. Our friends are very responsible and keep their guns locked in safes/gun cabinets, etc. But accidents still happen, and what would I do with my time if I didn't have a mug like this to blog about?

Giddeup.

'Cuz When She Puts Them Cookies In The Oven, There's Fifteen Minutes For Some Kissin' And Some Lovin'..."

If you were to enter the house I grew up in during the holiday season, at least one of the following things would happen:

1) You wouldn't make it past the front door without being asked to help carry "a couple of boxes" of holiday decor in from the garage, or "plant" a few (meaning at least 50) poinsettia stems in the yard.

2) You would be eaten by Christmas.

3) You would at first ask why we all care so much about getting an ugly old cardboard box for Christmas, but would secretly want it for yourself by the time you left.

4) You would smell roast and homemade rolls

5) You would hear singing

6) You would notice 5 strands of delicious looking gingerbread cookies hanging against the sliding glass door. You would mention how yummy they look, but you would not be allowed to eat them. (unless you were one of the 5 owners of said cookies)

7) You would hear my dad cry out in pain as he gets hit by his own booby-trap, that he set up to guard his room, then forgot about during his rush to the the potty.

8) You would be offered pumpkin bread with curling ribbon and a star bow on it, and ask what Rugga-Rugga is.

9) You would ask why there aren't any presents yet under the tree(s)...and then ask why there are seven trees. You would not be allowed to touch the "pretty tree", but might be accused of losing the Victorian paper doll ornaments.

10)You would hear Amy and HolleeAnn's beautiful singing and ask us to come caroling on Christmas Eve, then hear my violin and leave us a fake address.

My helper. My other helper knocked my granite rolling pin (that I love) on the ground, causing the handle to crack and break off in the fall, then she took a handful of raw cookie dough and hid herself in Reese's room while she ate it.
I spy a bear. I made 25 gingerbread bears for my little Sugar Bear's birthday party.

Waiting...
In Q's hands....um yeah. She's heard a lot of talk about "a new baby" going on lately, and went rooting though the bathroom cabinets in an attempt to make sure that doesn't happen.
Too late, Sister Bear...you have a sibling on the way.

We made over 300 of these bad boys on Sunday night. Aren't they cute? "please don't eat us!"
I'll post pics of the advent calendars we made with them when my laptop can access the pictures that my camera it is currently holding hostage.

Thanksgiving Recap

First of all...Happy Birthday to my Quincy! We've had a great day! We went for a breakfast date after we took Reese to school, then came home and baked pink cupcakes for her little birthday party. Aaron even came home for lunch to spend a little time with her before her party. She's not entirely sure what's going on, other than the day is totally about her, and that she is never going to take off her new necklace. Reese is doing an ok job sharing her excitement. I can tell she is having a hard time not being jealous. I've been trying to remind her that her birthday is coming up in 10 days. She helped thank Q's guests, and clean up the mess from lunch. And now she is "helping" Q play with her new toys.

I will post more about Quin's reaction to everything in a day or two, when I get more batteries for my (crappy...why am I not using the new one yet?!) camera.

It is such a special time in our house! Holidays, Birthdays, Chilly weather. This is a magical time and we again realize how much we have to be grateful for.

We spent Thanksgiving eating and hanging around with friends. It was kind of nice that each family brought something different, so no one had the huge burden of fixing the entire Thanksgiving dinner. We still ended up with waaaay too much food, but everything was super yummy, and I think I might have eaten more than anyone else there!



This is the only picture I have of our family from that afternoon. It's probably for the best, since my shirt decided to unbutton itself about 20 times that day (seriously). Luckily, I had something on underneath, but I wouldn't exactly call it pretty. I'd like to thank the caramel apple cheesecake and cherry pie for causing that last button to just give up. I guess it's time to put that shirt away until after I have the baby. I wish I had remembered to take some pictures of the tables and decorations, but we were too busy eating and having a good time that I forgot. Everything looked really great! Props to Kim and Michelle for putting this together, it was really fun!

Once our food had some time to digest a little, Aaron joined in on some basketball and volleyball, and a few others from the ward came to play along, too. I didn't play, but I might have actually been able to keep up with this game. Everyone was so full they looked like they were moving in slow motion! I ate some more pie, cheered from the stage, and gave everyone a nice rendition of every 80's song that came on the stereo we had going. I like to think it was my singing talent that helped Aaron get that nice spike during 99 red balloons. Fun times!

"Look At You Now, You've Got Yoursef Stuck In A Moment, And You Can't Get Out Of It"

Available at your local Sam's Club for $27.99

And "After Having Spent The Day Together, Hold Each Other Close For The Night Too"

The day before (or after, I don't remember now) Thanksgiving, we decided to be responsible parents and instead of putting the kids to bed, we took them outside to play in our dark, wildlife filled, don't step on that pile of leaves 'cuz there might be a hole or a snake under there-yard. It was fairly warm when we first went outside, but it got cold pretty quickly so we ran around a little and Aaron raked some leaves to jump in to keep warm.

Then Aaron got flashlights for the girls and the real fun began.

the husband enjoys the new wheelbarrow. We haven't rented a splitter yet, so we've been splitting our firewood the old fashioned (ahem...crappy) way. I'll have to take a video of me using the splitting maul, it was pretty comical last time I tried....although, I'm not sure If Aaron will let me near an axe now that I'm carrying his child and supposed to be "taking it easy".
(like that concept is even possible with 2 small children)

Pieces was pretty intrigued when she saw the first photo I took of her with the flashlight. She asked what the magic lightening was. I told her she was making it and after that, "take my picture, mom" and "hey, look at me!" were pretty much the only things she said the rest of the night.
Q actually has no problem going down the slide by herself...I was the one that was scared. Halfway down, my butt got stuck in the slide and Aaron had to give us a shove to get us moving again.


"They just handed me the jacket for the photo, so they feel like better parents. I'm friggin' freezing out here!"

After a few with only a fist, or someones nostril, this is our best attempt. I like that we waited until we were done playing first, so we nice and sweaty for you. Enjoy.

"Rest Your Head Close to My Heart, Never to Part, Baby of Mine"

Two years ago (thursday) my sweet Quincy Brooklyn joined our family.

What a joy she has been! Quincy is like my secret treasure...I almost don't want to let the world know just how special she is, because I'm afraid that it will change her somehow. She is really a spectacular little person. I'm not sure how to describe the quality that she has, but Quincy has the gift of bringing peace into my life-well anyone's life, really. I know I just sound like a typical mom bragging about her kid on her birthday, but there really is something special about this little girl that I can't put into words. I know she will do great things with her life and her ability to touch others in such an extraordinary way. She relaxes me, she helps me recognize more of the joys in my life, and I have the capacity to accept and give more love than I did before she was given to me.

Ahhh....the day she was born. I've been meaning to do a post about this, since I was too incapacitated to do so right after her birth. Aaron took over responsibility of the blog and posted pictures and stats, but left out some of the good stuff. It's ok to laugh. It was SOOO not funny at the time, but pretty hysterical now. Feel free to enjoy the humor in my misery. I will spare all medical details of baby delivery/labor gunk...'cuz that's gross, and no one wants to read about "crowning" on a blog. This isn't one of those stories...

Dec 4, 2006
We go to the hospital at 5am to be induced. I have eaten a bowl of yogurt with granola and raspberries...which I love, but am sad because I know this is going to be my last chance to have anything but ice chips for the next 12 hours, possibly. Aaron refuses to eat breakfast because he "never does" and "it's too early to eat anything right now." I nag him, and state my claim ahead of time that I will be totally pissed off if he leaves me while I'm laboring, to go find sustenance. I have my little hospital bag packed full with goodies that I'd wished I'd had for my recovery with Reese. A Mr. Goodbar (see part about ice chips only for 12 hours...must have chocolate to recover), a brand new pair of pink fuzzy slippers, chap stick, a PINK outfit and a BLUE outfit (I cried when I had to bring home baby Reese in turquoise, and was determined to not let that happen again, in the event that baby 2 arrived a girl also) and of course, Dermablast (where had THAT stuff been all my life? If only I'd discovered it 2 years earlier...) I toss a cereal bar in there, for Aaron, who will inevitably become hungry once I'm all checked in and strapped to a million machines, starving, and no longer allowed the goodness that is food. This cereal bar is his ticket to the chair next to my hospital bed. This is breakfast, and he's not going to be anywhere but by my side the entire time.

On the way to the hospital, Aaron stops at work to "run in for a minute" and leaves me in the warm van...for 30 minutes. Um. Hello? Ready to have a baby over here, and you are working? isn't this something that could wait...or have possibly been done BEFORE d day?

I try to distract myself...I wonder if it's a boy or a girl? Will people always refer to Ferris Beuler if I name my daughter Sloane? Quincy is a nice name too...seriously WHERE is Aaron?

Irritated, I arrive at the hospital to discover that my nurse is a creepy guy named Donald. I'm not anti male doctor, as all of my OB's and OBGYN's have been male...but this guys was just creepy...like he kind of looks like Lyle from Napoleon Dynamite, (you know, the old guy from the chicken farm that shoots the cow in front of the school bus full of children?) except he has a mouth full of shiny veneers, which are also creepy. He looked like a cartoon, or a pseudo cartoon, like they do in 80's music videos where they change up the coloring and edit everyone so it looks like they've been drawn in colored pencil.

Deep breaths Meg. You're having a baby today. All the pain is worth it. Squeeze Aaron's hand a little more...make sure he feels at least a little of your pain. He deserves it for getting you pregnant, and not throwing up even once out of sympathy.

Not pleased, and hoping that Donald's shift is almost over, one of those belts is strapped around my belly and the sound of baby's heartbeat calms me down almost instantly.

Everything is going to be great.

Then Donald gives me an IV...or attempts to, but instead misses my perfectly accessible vein and causes a hematoma on my hand.

With the top of my hand SERIOUSLY swollen like there is a baseball sitting on it, he actually makes another attempt IN THE SAME HAND.

There is no way he is going to get this IV in...Deep breaths....and seriously, OUCH! This is worse than labor! Ok. I'm relaxing. I'm squeezing Aaron's hand. I'm relaxing. Man, this nurse is getting blood EVERYwhere. I'm squeezing. I'm relaxing. I'm listening to my baby. I'm grinding Aaron's knuckles together from squeezing so hard... this is ridiculous. I'm relaxing.

BAM.

I'm screaming.

I turn and watch as Aaron falls backward in slow motion.
Seriously?!
Passing out?
Now?
Really?
He had made an attempt to balance himself on my bed rail, but a moment too late. He went straight back and crashed right into the cabinet holding all of the equipment that monitors mine and my baby's vitals. He broke the door right off the cabinet on his way out, and managed to rip the keyboard from the computer and cause it to come crashing down in the fall.
What the...? IS THIS SERIOUSLY HAPPENING? The giant stretchy belt monitor thingie around my belly is also detached by his separation and as a result goes FLYING from my body when I sit up, and slingshots itself across the bed.
Aaron went over backward and hit his head on the floor first.

Donald is also screaming like a girl and goes "uhhh, uhhhh, ok, uhhhh.." (aren't nurses supposed to be used to trauma? Or maybe there is no trauma in the cartoon version of a hospital he is used to working in) He jumps up and the IV that he had finally stuck in my hand rips right back out and flies through the air as he runs over to Aaron, then "uhhh uhhh's" some more before running out of the room. I am screaming for help...but honestly, who is going to come to my aid? This is a DELIVERY room! People are used to walking past a screaming woman on a gurney. I buzz the nurses station and attempt to unwrap the medical tape keeping me attached to the IV cord (that is dripping pitocin all over the floor) so I can get out of bed..having contractions all the while...
Oh great...the drama has jump started REAL LABOR. OOOOOUUUUUCCCCH!

After what feels like an eternity, Donald the rescue hero, and another nurse come into the room.

"He's factor V" I tell them frantically. "His blood...it clots and he had two pulmonary embolisms the size of oranges less than 3 years ago. He's usually on blood thinners, but his Rx ran out and he hasn't taken them in about 2 weeks. Is he going to die? Is he dead?"

"He's fine." says the nurse. "He just passed out. Didn't he eat any breakfast?"

It takes about two minutes to wake Aaron up. Once conscious. He tries to stand up and act like everything is normal. He had hit his head pretty hard, but claimed to be "just fine...let's have a baby. I'm good. I'm fine."

Yeah. I don't think so, buddy. I will have a baby. I am in labor. You get wheeled down to the ER to get checked out, and then to radiology have a CATSCAN, to make sure you are not bleeding internally and dying. Thanks for stealing my thunder, by the way.

So he is wheeled away, on his cellphone with work all his way out the door, "Hey man. Nope, I'm not going to make it in today. Yeah, Meg's having the baby. I stopped by this morning though to...blah blah blah"

I'm having a baby and he is making work calls and getting a CATSCAN. WHAT. THE. HECK.
The nurses clean up the room and put me back together. Donald's shift ends (by some miracle) and a new nurse comes in and gives me a new IV.

...and then I'm alone.

A small anxiety attack set in while I attempt to erase the image of Aaron hitting the floor replays itself in my head over and over and over again, like a skipping vinyl record player. What am I doing here? I am ALONE, and ow ow ouch! Man I forgot how much this hurts. What time is it? What if the baby comes before he gets back? What if there is something wrong with him? What if he dies and I have to raise my babies alone?! Why am I sweating so much? Seriously, this hurts. Who's hand am I going to squeeze now? I AM TOTALLY ALONE.

"Shoo-shoo shoo-shoo shoo-shoo shoo-shoo...."

I'm not sure if it was the stress, or instant replay of current events, or the millions of freaked out thoughts running through my head that had drowned out the noise before, but she made herself heard through all of it. The sound of my baby's heartbeat cut through all through every noise in the world. I was not alone at all. My sweet little baby was there to help me relax.

Aaron returned (concussion and stroke free, luckily) about two hours later, he ate his cereal bar, then my Mr. Goodbar, and turned on ESPN to help HIM relax a little. (this I was not thrilled about as you could imagine.) He listened to me rant and rave and cry and worry and yell a lot and cry some more. He tried to make jokes about the situation...(hey, did I look like Will Farrell? Like when Buddy finds out he isn't an elf, and passes out and squishes all the other elves?) He listened to me yell some more that I was SO not ready to joke about all of this, yet. He didn't get mad when I threw the phone, because everyone kept calling to check on how HE was doing...not me or my soon-to-be-born child....she'll be fine. He held my hair back while I threw up for an hour. He apologized profusely even though it wasn't really his fault (except that he didn't eat breakfast, but I'm willing to let that one go) He listened to the calming effects of the tiny heartbeat echoing through the room, and buzzed the nurse every time she went into stress and her heartbeat slowed down. And then he sat by my side and supported me while we brought our child into the world.

A baby girl.

(she was so tiny! 5lbs 13oz...I think most of the weight was in those bitty cheeks)

Quincy Brooklyn, we knew from the day you were born that there was something very special about you. It is a pleasure and an honor to be your mother. I love you more than I knew was possible. Happy Birthday Sugar Bear. You've changes our lives forever.

(yeah. that's blood on my pillow...compliments of Nurse Donald who can't properly insert an IV....and again compliments of Nurse Donald who took my arm with him when he stood up. He should be fired. FYI, Yes, I made a complaint to the hospital. He was not allowed back in my room.)

(if you look in the background, you'll notice that Krispy Kreme was there to share this special moment with us)

Stay tuned for the week of Q turns Two!