GoldenGrams

Remember I made capes for the girls for Christmas?  And that they didn’t care about them at all?

In my quest to force the girls to like their capes, I hastily cut out some mini capes for their animal friends.

Success!

Also adding to the fun is a mattress:

My grandparents gave us their bed.  We’re working on getting rid of our old bed, but in the meantime the girls have LOVED their indoor trampoline.

Several months ago we had family pictures taken by Cherylann Collins.  We thought she did a great job and were happy with the results.

(Brooke was “fishing” and wouldn’t let go of her rod during the photo shoot.)

(Finally!  The fishing rod is cast aside!)

I have recently heard Brooke (4 1/2 years old) or Caroline (2 1/2 years old) say things that have left me thinking, “We have to deal with this issue already?!”  I give you the following vignettes:

#1:

Me (cheerfully):  “Time to get ready for church!”

Brooke (grumpily):  “Why?  I hate church.”

#2:

Me (cheerfully):  “It’s a nursery day!”

Caroline (grumpily):  “No!  I’m not singing!  No singing!”

#3:

Brooke (out of breath from running to me after playing outside):  “Mom!  Wyatt [her five-year-old friend] said I look so cute.  Let’s put polish on my nails so when I go out he’ll say, ‘Wow!  You look SUPER cute!’”

I can’t handle this.

And don’t go telling me it will only get worse.

We had a great Christmas.  On Christmas Eve we went up to my parents’ house.  Ben and Brooke were anxiously awaiting the program:

My aunt organized a Minute to Win It game.  Brooke wanted to try it out until she was told she’d need to dip her nose in Vaseline and use it to try to transport cotton balls from one plate to another.  She bowed out after hearing that:

Maggie was a great baby holder:

Rachel was also a great baby tender:

And that brings us to Christmas morning!  Spencer couldn’t wait to see what Santa brought him:

The girls were thrilled with their new kitchen:

Caroline showed off her flashlight:

The girls love flashlights.  They always find our flashlights, hide them in their room under their beds, and then pull them out after we’ve turned out their lights.  Sneaky, sneaky.  After yelling at them countless times for taking our flashlights, we finally decided to just get them their own.

Spencer loved his new toy:

Lately the girls have enjoyed being superheroes.  They will take Spencer’s bibs and wear them backwards and pretend they have capes on.  That gave me the great idea to make superhero capes for them for Christmas.  Didn’t they turn out cute?  The girls hate them.  Oh well.  Can’t win them all.

All of our festivities made the kids exhausted.  Any time we got in the car, this happened:

A cute picture of the kids with my parents:

Brooke and Caroline love the Play-Doh machine Grandpa Golden gave them:

It wouldn’t be the Christmas season without a round of illness spread throughout our household.  I had nothing going on all week last week except on Thursday when I had two visiting teaching appointments and my visiting teachers coming over, I was baby-sitting for a friend, and I was set to conduct a neighborhood meeting.

So of course, I got sick that morning.  I woke up and noticed my stomach was churning.  A couple of hours later I was throwing up.  Dallas left for work and I was left wondering how I would care for three kids by myself in my state.

I decided I would call my mom and beg her to come to my rescue.  After all, mere weeks ago my sister also got the barfs and my mom dropped everything to come to her aid and watch her ONE child for her.

I should have known my mom doesn’t love me as much as my sister, though, for when I called, she said something along the lines of, “Oh honey, I’m so sorry you’re sick.  But it’s okay!  You’ll get over it!  You can do it!  Call me when you’re well!”

Thanks, Mom.

When the girls woke up, Caroline laid next to me in my bed.  She heard me moaning and saying my stomach hurt.  Before long, she was also moaning and saying her stomach hurt.  The problem was I didn’t know if she was simply mimicking or if she was actually sick as well.

I got my answer a little while later.  She sat up, carefully crawled off the bed, announced, “I have to spit in the potty,”  calmly entered the bathroom, and threw up.  This happened about four more times throughout the day and every time she made it to the bathroom in time further securing her position as easiest child ever.  I didn’t get the hang of throwing up in the toilet until I was a teenager at least.

My visiting teacher saved the day by bringing me a care package of goodies to help me and the kids get through the sickness.  Bless her.

Dallas called to say he was coming home from work early which nearly caused me to jump for joy until he said it was because he was also feeling sick.  When he came home he said he had to stop on the way and throw up.  All over the brand-new freeway.  For some reason I found that hilarious.

Luckily we’re all well now and my mom was right – I did make it through the day somehow, and bonus!  I even lived to blog about it.

My mom watched the kids for a while today while Dallas and I went to the temple together.  It was a lovely afternoon.  For us at least.

Upon returning, my mom related that the kids had been pretty good, except Spencer did a horrible job eating.  He persisted in spitting his food everywhere and laughing about it.  I chuckled a bit imagining the scene.  Perhaps I was secretly glad my mom was the one who had to deal with this instead of me.

However, a few hours later when I was trying to feed Spencer, he very kindly obliged in illustrating exactly what my mother was talking about.  And this time I was not laughing.  Each bite brought a shower of food arcing through the air.  My scolding only succeeding in causing Spencer to laugh uncontrollably.

The culprit:

Not shown:  Me, also covered in food.

So basically I’m feeling the urge to thank my mom once again for watching the kids tonight and dealing with that mess.  Maybe he’ll be better next time you watch him…assuming you agree to a next time…

Brooke was dying to make a candy house, so one day we did.

Brooke was very meticulous about putting the candy on her house so that it filled in all the space:

Caroline…not so much:

Dallas decided to get in on the action:

(It’s a die in case you couldn’t tell.)

Spencer was upside-down:

…which reminded me exactly of the top picture in this post from three years ago.

Brooke and Dallas were coloring pictures one day.  Dallas colored the Santa on the right.  The next day Brooke requested that I print off another Santa just like that one.  She then colored it exactly like Dallas did.  We thought it was pretty good.  (She explained that all those scribbles above her Santa were her testing the crayons to make sure she got exactly the right color she needed.)

The girls love hearing Christmas carols on the radio, especially anything with “jingle bells” in it.  However, Brooke refuses to sing “Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.”  Instead she substitutes “reindeer” for “horse.”  I love it.

Our children must be smoking behind our backs cause I’ve seen those commercials and this rings very familiar.

I’ve heard tale of a mythical creature also known as The Child Who Potty Trains Herself.  Up until a couple of months ago, I was sure such a creature was only found in legends and folk stories.

Now it appears I have one living with me.

After the disaster also known as Trying to Potty Train Brooke, I was in no hurry to tackle potty training Caroline.  She was afraid to even sit on the potty, so I helplessly shrugged my shoulders, threw my hands in the air, and gave up without even trying.

Then a friend loaned us a kid potty.

Then Caroline sat on the potty.

Then Caroline went on the potty.

Then Caroline demanded she wear panties.

At all times.

Despite my best efforts to keep the kid in diapers, she wouldn’t relent.  So I put her in panties and gave her zero support.  And things have been going pretty well.  For reasons known only to Caroline, she usually only has accidents when we are at our house and she goes into the bathroom alone.  If someone goes in with her, she’s fine; if she’s alone, well, we may have a puddle to deal with.  I don’t get it.

In any case, it’s been glorious to have such a relatively easy potty training experience.  I can only hope the upcoming ordeal of Potty Training a Boy is similarly uneventful.

I think I’ll start crossing my fingers now.

You saw it here first folks!

This just in… Rebecca has a honkin’ nose.  Live on the scene to demo this extraordinary event is Spencer.

We had a lovely Thanksgiving.  Want to see proof?  Here’s the one and only picture we took:

Spencer with his Great Grandma Golden.

I wasn’t very good at documenting Thanksgiving, nor have I been good at posting pictures to our blog.  Here are some pictures I have stored up.

First snow of the year.  Thrilling for the kids.  Sort of annoying for the mom who has to bundle the kids all up and then clean up the snow mess afterward.

Caroline is an edamame fiend.  Here she is building a tower with the empty pods:

Dallas has started taking the girls to Lowe’s every other Saturday to take advantage of their kids’ projects.  The girls love going to “the hammering store” and making things.  Recently they made a science project kit.  Brooke made Wacky Mud (cornstarch and water).  Caroline never made it past the cornstarch step.

Brooke’s toys playing Ring Around the Rosie:

Spencer trying to decide whether or not he likes leaves:

Little baby in a big bed:

Father and son:

Happy baby:

Bug eyes:

The girls were ladybugs at the first Halloween party we went to.  Costumes courtesy of our friends, the Fraziers.

Brooke got creative with rocks and sticks one day:

Spencer outgrowing his swing:

Brooke made Santa (Bear) with his reindeer:

Caroline thought it was hilarious once when I put Spencer in her crib with her:

Brooke likes to arrange all her animals and dolls just so:

Whew.  I had more pictures than I thought.  I’ll end with this one.  Read to your kids!

Happy Thanksgiving one and all!

I was looking through our pictures and I just wanted to show off this picture of my wife. Aren’t I a lucky guy?

Yesterday Brooke burned her finger.  I had just pulled a pot of boiling water off the stove when I saw her reach out and touch the burner.  Initially she hardly reacted.  She carefully pulled her hand away and just stood there.  No crying out or jumping around screaming in pain.  For a second I wondered if she was one of those people whose bodies don’t register pain signals.

Finally, after several seconds of nothing, I said, “Did that hurt?”

Brooke:  “Yeah.  Really bad.”

Me: “Here, put your finger under some cool water.”

Brooke moved her stool over to the sink and let the water run over her now-blistered finger.  Still no crying.

I was really impressed by her composure which continued all evening.  Her finger hurt when it wasn’t in water, so I gave her a small container of water to put her finger in while we had dinner.  As we were eating, Brooke lamented her new fate.

Brooke:  “I can’t take my finger out of the water because it hurts!”

Me:  “I know.”

Brooke:  “So I just have to keep my finger in water forever?”

Me:  “Well, until it feels better.”

Brooke:  “When will my finger get better?”

Me:  “It will take a while.”

Brooke: “Like lots of days?”

Me:  “Yes.”

Brooke then mourned the things she would no longer be able to do because she could only use one hand.  The amusing thing about this was everything she listed off were things that she only needed one hand to do anyway.

“I have to take a drink with only one hand!”

“I have to scratch my head with one hand!”

And, with lip quivering, “I can only hold bear with one hand!”

To the relief of all, the cool-water therapy worked and by the evening she was able to go to bed without a cup of water for her finger.  Let’s hope she’s learned her lesson and will be able to resist the urge to touch the hot stove in the future.

After all — we wouldn’t want her having to drink one-handed for the rest of her life.