We survived.

Allan left for the Bay Area before sunrise on Monday for a deposition. He was hoping it would only take one long day, but ended up taking two long days. Apparently the experience was akin to deposing a brick wall. 

While my children are perhaps the furthest thing from brick walls, I did experience two long(ish) days. However, it was another experience helping me realize I can do hard(ish) things. I periodically texted Allan pictures to let him know that things were running smoothly. For instance, "Look! The kids are up and eating breakfast....it's a miracle!! (please ignore the fact that Jack hasn't showered)"

There were other things I texted him that I would have texted him anyway, because they're hilarious. Like Natey's XTREME bedhead.

Nose injury courtesy of the sidewalk....

Poor AC ended up having to go to the doctor on Tuesday due to a fever, not wanting to eat, and being completely miserable anytime she wasn't sleeping. Oh, the tears! This was a brief moment of contentment. The happiest I'd seen her in days.

Turned out to be a virus. Boo.

 While AC was taking a much-needed nap we made some cookies. Our neighbor rang our doorbell late Saturday night to let us know our garage door was open. We made these as a thank you. We were especially grateful because we didn't answer the door (don't you think you're being doorbell ditched when you get three rapid rings at 10:30pm on a Saturday night?)...so he alerted our friends, and his other neighbor, figuring they could text us. Smart man.

Making these cookies is so dang exciting! 

 Allan thinks the worst thing you can do to cookies is bake them. He's been disappointed a few times lately when he's eagerly reached for a refrigerated tupperware full of cookie dough only to realize that it's a tupperware full of homemade veggie burgers. Poor, poor man. So I saved a golf ball-sized chunk of dough (okay, baseball-sized) for him to come home to. True love.

He got home shortly after dinner on Tuesday night. There was much rejoicing.

Wednesday morning I actually got out for a run. Exercise has been a challenge lately. Though I love them, strolls with the kids don't really do anything for my fitness. Allan and I have to time everything perfectly in the morning in order for me to get out and get it done. More accurately, Astrid has to time everything perfectly. Her timing has been stinky lately. 

Here I am staring at my shoes committing to run at least four times a week in March. I will reward myself with a new pair of kicks from Runner's Corner when we're in Utah for Easter. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. (Side note: My hamstrings look like Apollo Anton Ono's in this picture)

 

 

 

 I am officially over making baby food from scratch. It was lovely for the first three kids, but I've recently found myself with a starving child who doesn't want to wait a half hour while I whip something up. So, I am embracing the pouches. I always taste test to see what some of these wacky combinations taste like. This one needs to be made for adults, so that I can sip on my own pouch with dignity.

It's amazing. For what it's worth, the red lentil, butternut, apricot puree was NOT amazing.

 Oh, Micah. You can be so pretty when you're sad. Your tears glistening on the tips of your looooong lashes. I believe this brooding was the result of Jack doing something to your Minecraft world. He put chickens all over your treehouse or something like that. 

 Jack has an official assignment from the Primary President to play the prelude music for Junior and Senior Primary every Fast Sunday (which means he plays cranky prelude).  I keep trying to emphasize that he needs to take it slow and quiet.  He makes Praise to the Man sound like a jig.

"Look, Mom! I build a TAHMPLE, Mom! It's a TAHMPLE!" (temple).

 On Thursday afternoon we had seven boys under nine playing at our house for a few hours. Here are two of them. We had no idea when we bought this house that the gravel on one side of the house would be legendary among the four and under set.

By the way, seven boys nine and under leave quite the mess: 

Jack's game of "dirt clod fireworks" did not go over well with Mom. Or Dad. The cleanup did not go over well with Jack.

 
Tomorrow night Allan, Astrid, and I have a date. Dinner at Panera and then buying more baby food at Target before my coupon expires. 

(Note to my posterity: We really are this exciting. Like, all the time.)

Last week according to my iphone.

I think the back of this dress is so adorable on AC (thanks Brett and Sarah!). I just want to nibble her neck.

And then there are her new PJ's w/cakes, cookies, teapots, and teacups printed all over them.

 

 

 Me: "Micah, you really need a haircut."

Micah: "No, I don't! I can still see!

Is everyone else a sucker for pictures of children peeking over things? No? It's just me?

 Allan found the sidewalk chalk. That was a win-win.

We decided Astrid needs a new name when she wears this tropical print skirt. Leilani Kahala Wanahakaloogie, it is.

I made homemade pita. Of the five accompaniments on his plate, Natey decided it would taste best stuffed with pineapple.

Natey heard Astrid crying. This was his soothing solution. Obviously I should solicit his advice in the future.

Every little girl deserves to have a dress with hedgehogs on it.

It was Eric Carle Day at preschool.

Natey's at the age where he REALLY wants to ride his bike on our walks................

.......At least part of the way (thank heavens for the double stroller...Astrid requested a livelier companion for next time though).

Quality snuggle time in front of Shaun the Sheep and a glowing fire (it finally got cold again...)

Jack had some charming exchanges with his Papa via text on the drive to Visalia. This was his "just kidding" face after telling my dad that I was expecting another baby (I just. about. killed. him.).

Allan heads out of town this week for a deposition. Will we survive? Stay tuned....

Weekend with my valentinies.

I know it's basically a big commercial invention, but I love Valentine's Day. In the same way I love four day weekends in February. Let's make the dreariest month of the year a little more joyful! When Valentines falls on a Saturday, it's even better! I can kick things up a notch. And by kicking things up a notch, I mean I cut out paper hearts and scattered them all over the table.

Nobody has ever confused me with Martha Stewart.

Then we had buttermilk pancakes with nutella/syrup/applesauce/jam (not all at once--unless my back was turned). No heart-shapes. Last year I tried that and kept burning my fingertips. If cuteness requires torture, I draw the line.

We're having a hard time getting Nathan to CHEW HIS FOOD (That's how the phrase is said at the dinner table--in all caps) And when he does miraculously chew, it's because he's stuffed so much in his mouth that he has no choice (see above).

We had to curb Jack's pancake intake (basketball game). Pancakes w/nutella are the breakfast of champions only if you stop at a dozen.

Afterwards, Allan took Jack to his basketball game. I had the not-so-brilliant-idea of taking the other kids to the Farmers Market and then the grocery store. Trying to get Nathan to not eat all of the displays was a challenge. Trying to get Nathan to not run into the parking lot was a challenge. Trying to get Nathan to stop screaming after I buckled him in the cart was also a challenge. Lesson learned: Don't take Nathan. He prefers to be unclothed anyway:

That evening I had another not-so-brilliant-idea. Homemade pizza with homemade dough. Whenever I do make pizza, I buy the pre-made dough in the refrigerator section. I wanted to make it special though. Ugh. My dough was like a stubborn rubberband. We could not get it to stay stretched out. I was about to give up and boil pasta to go with all the roasted veggies I'd prepared, but Allan persisted. He managed to get four decent-sized pizzas out of the mess. I kept saying "This is so not worth it!!!!" But then I tasted it. Oh. My.

We had Cherry 7-Up floats with red licorice straws. Er, I should say the boys had them. Truth be told, they're pretty gross, but the boys somehow don't notice. This was the second year in a row. I think it will be a tradition. Until they figure out that they're pretty gross.

Sunday was Sunday. As my friend says, "Sunday isn't really a day of rest. It's just....different."

Astrid being her usual charming self. It's hard to see her through all the clashing patterns and colors in this picture. Someday my bedroom will be coordinated. Someday before I die.

On President's Day, Allan took the day off. I ran down south of Bakersfield with my friend Katie to visit the brand new swanky outlets. I promised to be home by lunch. It was a fun little diversion. I also bought Astrid a patriotic romper. Everything that fits in her closet is cosy and warm.  She's not terribly happy with cosy and warm when it's eighty degrees outside.

You can see how happy she is to have some skin exposed. Bring on the Vitamin D, she says!

 That afternoon and evening we played outside, started to plan the garden/fruit tree plantings, and then ate the most random assortment of leftovers for dinner. Think pasta w/tomato sauce, baked potatoes w/salsa, and roasted chicken.

When is the next four day weekend???

Welcome, spring?

Oh, February. The shortest month of the year, but you feel so long. I must say, however, as far as Februaries go, this one is flying. Must be the fact that it's nearly eighty degrees every single day. I find it hard to rejoice though. We're still in a brutal drought with no relief in sight. We've fasted and prayed over and over, but the rains aren't coming. I'll be curious what hindsight will teach us about this experience. I'm a little stressed.

Jack has a four-day weekend every President's Day. I think it's the best idea ever! I was bound and determined not to let the Friday go to waste (always tempting since Allan still has to work). I wanted to prove to myself that I could take all four of them by myself on an adventure of sorts. Outside, of course. I found a new place we'd never been thanks to Google: a small zoo in Bakersfield. It's called CALM-- California Living Museum. All the species in the zoo are native to...you guessed it, California.

Saguaro. Nathan and Micah with their noses in the map.

I was super fun mom today. I coughed up twenty-five cents so they could feed the goats. I'm amazing, I know.

Micah trying to pose with a cottonmouth in honor of Nana. It took TEN shots to get this one. He can't hold still.

Every time we crossed a bridge or passed a bench, Micah would insist that he could find it on the map and successfully lead us to our next destination. He wouldn't take off his How to Train Your Dragon mask off.

Nathan took ten minutes to descend these steps because his nose was yet again in the map.

Astrid enjoyed the ride. When she would get fussy I would ply her with puffs (I'm still an awesome mom because they have kale powder in them...I'm a sucker for the health halo)

After seeing the animals the kids played on a playground until they threatened to eat my arm off if I didn't give them some food. (Apparently kale puffs don't sustain toddlers on up). We drove to the other side of town to visit one of my favorite restaurants ever. Moo Creamery. Oh, this place. No matter what your dietary preferences, you can find something here. Even bacon ice cream (Nooooo thank you).

It was jam-packed. We had to wait nearly an hour for our food. But the kids were so good! I think they sensed that it would all be worth it. Jack declared his chicken strips the best ever. My veggie burger ("The Silent Moo") was so amazing that I've caught myself daydreaming about it several times since. We took home some peppermint oreo ice cream for our Working Man to enjoy that evening.

Yes, I take pictures of my food.

On the drive home, I kept basking in how easy the day had been.  They were happy, getting along, and learned something. I didn't get the breakfast dishes done until 5:30pm that evening. Those are the best kinds of days, in my opinion.

This morning, we asked Natey what his favorite animal at the zoo was. He replied, "THE MAP!!!!"

Snips and snails and puppy dogs' tails.

Micah,

Today you caught a snail at preschool and brought it home in a paper cup. You announced that his name was Joey and he was going to make the trip to Utah with us this summer. You piled up freshly-picked grass for his sustenance, and settled Joey into a shady spot underneath the primrose bush.

Aspiring Wild Kratt

Last I checked Joey high-tailed (-shelled?) it outta' there. Perhaps he'd rather visit the beach this summer? I'm a little worried about tomorrow's reaction when you find out. You feel things deeply.

 You are a delight--always entertaining us with your thoughts and observations on life. Even your tantrums make me giggle ninety-percent of the time (the other ten percent involve you going boneless and me trying to drag your fifty pound body to wherever it needs to go).

You love your little sister. The other night while I was making dinner, I looked over at you two, and you were giving her a little massage and playing with her hair while watching Backyardigans. I turned into a giant puddle of mom goo right there on the kitchen floor (right after I pulled out my phone, zoomed in, and got a fuzzy shot before you noticed I was watching).

This morning you told me that I was "kind of a weird mom." Uh-oh, I thought. I asked you why you thought I was weird. You replied, "Normal moms are mean. You're not mean." Then you gave me a Valentine you had made in preschool. Your teacher dictated "I love to give my mom hugs and kisses." Keep talking, Micah. You make me feel like I'm doing something right.

You're my floppy-haired blondie. Big beautiful blue eyes. You're shaped like your dad, but look just like me (with a different nose).