Greetings from Lansing

Yes, that's right, you are correct...we are still in Lansing. Here's an interesting twist of fate: we have buddy passes to fly to Utah on JetBlue Airlines, which means we have to fly standby and are always on the bottom of the list. Hence, we've been poised to head home for ten days now, living out of our suitcases while finding out right before we head to Chicago to board that the flights are all full. Yesterday, Adam was contacted by a dean at the school and offered a five-week internship with a firm in town that turns out to be an excellent opportunity to get some courtroom experience each week. There's no way in heck I'd want to be away from Adam for five weeks, so the kids and I are planning to stick around until August 12th.

Soooooo...I guess the girls can learn a few more bad words from the 'hood figgas outside, we can laugh a few more times at our ridiculous upstairs neighbor doing his daily walk of shame after he gets beaten up by his girlfriend, I can say goodbye to all of my friends again, and we can enjoy the adorable lightning bugs for a few more weeks! I always chuckle when I realize that Heavenly Father has a plan and there's not much we can do about it sometimes. This is a good reminder for me that I need to be more in tune with what He wants for our family. I am totally excited for Adam and the chance he has to put his skills to work in a unique environment and I am totally excited to be out of here for good. See you all real soon!

Los Idiomas de Juventud

I noticed last night that my girls have achieved the linguistic phenomenon described by Steven Pinker as "children spontaneously invent[ing] a consistent grammatical speech (a creole) even if they grow up among a mixed-culture population." For example, both girls have begun to use an "oye" sound instead of an "or" sound (to-moye-rrow, D-oye-ra, d-oye-r) and, to my utter disgust (sorry, all you Midwesterners!), saying "maaaaaahm" instead of "mom". Add to this the Ebonics that they've unavoidably picked up (a few days ago, Amber said, "What the hay-ell!?" just like the attitudinous multi-ethnic kids who lurk outside our door), and they are definitely in for it as far as accents and language go. Yikes!
I've also noticed my atrocious hybrid hick/blue collar (translated: Utah/Michigan) vernacular becoming increasingly grating to my own ears. Whatever will we do? A self-proclaimed linguist should never suffer from such cacaphony. I guess we'll just abide by another of Pinker's observations, that "rules like 'a preposition is not a proper word to end a sentence with' must be explicitly taught, therefore they are irrelevant to actual communication and should be ignored." Word.

Christopher Kimball, My Hero

He's edearingly dorky, yet nothing short of genius in the kitchen. He's Christopher Kimball, the founder of the public television show "America's Test Kitchen" and "Cook's Illustrated" magazine. While I've been a tepid fan of both for about ten years, I never fully appreciated the excellence of Kimball's ideas until I began using the recipes and methods his folks discover. The recipes are all wonderfully practical and produce the best results I've ever experienced. I highly recommend America's Test Kitchen for any recipe and/or technical information needs. You can sign up for a limited membership for free (which I have done), but I have a feeling the full membership would be well worth it! I received a free copy of the magazine in the mail three days ago and have already tried several of the recipes with grand success.

Betrothed

I was thrilled the other day when my friend, Elaine, let me know that her son Miles wants to marry Amber. Miles is one of the cutest, funniest little guys I know. Here's a picture of them at the Hawk Island Splash Park on Friday. I'm pretty sure Amber is smitten! Elaine and I have a secret plot to make sure they actually do get married; Miles can go on his mission while Amber goes to college, then they'll get hitched and I'll have the coolest in-laws and cutest grandchildren ever. :) Hooray for puppy love!

Memory Game

This is fun and cool:

1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember! Since this is our family blog, feel free to leave a memory about any of the five of us.

2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It's actually pretty cool (and funny) to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you. Thanks!

Houston, I Have a Problem

I am addicted to blogging. I know this sounds odd and you may not believe it because I don't post every day, but the following scenario presented itself as a major warning to me that I need professional help:

Tuesday, none of the kids took naps (yikes, I know). By 4:30 p.m., they were all becoming testy, so I figured we'd head to the mall and have an exciting afternoon to keep them from dozing off at 7 p.m. only to awake, ready to party for 6 hours, at 11:30 p.m. We had a disastrous trip to say the least, so at 8:30, I was delighted to put them all to bed and have four hours of tranquility with Adam. If you're a parent, you're probably chuckling to yourself because you know what happens next...

Amber woke up at 12:30. After thirty minutes of whining, she fell asleep again. Then, Rex woke up to eat and promptly went back to bed. At 2:30, Karli started whining and wouldn't stop, so I put her in bed with me. Amber joined us shortly thereafter and, in her sleep, suspiciously began kicking Karli. Karli screamed each time she received a blow and was finally worked up into such a frenzy that Amber and I were both wide awake. When Karli realized I rebuked Amber for kicking her, she needed another irritant and decided to whine because she wanted to watch a movie. Determined to return to my well-deserved REM state, I put Karli back in her crib and let her scream for 20 minutes. Finally, Adam, who was preparing for a huge mock trial that was to take place 5 hours later, came in and rescued Karli from the dregs of her brutally confining crib. She was beyond consolation, however, and despite any attempt Adam made to pacify her, the screaming fit continued. His efforts to prepare any arguments for class were futile and he was royally ticked off.

By this point, Amber awoke again and chimed right in alongside Karli, wailing so loudly that our neighbors woke up and began stomping around to let us know they'd been disturbed (oh...if they only knew...). Adam was yelling, I was yelling, Karli and Amber were screaming, and not wanting to be forgotten, Rex started crying too. This continued until 5:30 a.m. until two of the three kids had cried themselves to exhaustion and Karli the Insomniac finally settled down to watch Teletubbies.

The point of this tangental saga is that throughout the whole episode, I kept thinking to myself, "This is going to make a great blog post." Then, in the middle of sternly explaining to Amber why she couldn't eat ice cream at 3:00 in the morning, an idea for the title of my post popped into my head. During the whole melee, I just wanted to escape to the office, lock the door, and describe the situation play-by-play. At first, I thought this was an evil desire, but now as I'm writing, I think it may be more of a boon than a burden. My blogging addiction could actually be a cathartic coping mechanism developed by my feeble brain to help me survive episodes of children-induced stress, panic, and sleep deprivation.

Shock and Awe

Celebrating my 28th birthday last week has put me into a state of shock and reflection. The shock comes from discovering more and more gray hairs on my head every day for the past two months, the rate at which said discovery is made being too rapid for me to pluck them out. Also producing shock in my life is the recently-discovered phenomenon of instantaneous weight gain. My body is not like it was twelve short months ago; now, if I eat a carb-rich diet one day, I pay for it the next by barely being able to wedge myself into my clothes. Add to this my severe muscular atrophy that can only be slowed by pumping iron religiously each day, and I feel like I should be 82 instead of 28. Surely I must be older than a late-20-something.
Reflection stems from thinking about what a marvelous life I've had thus far, and the promise of more wonderful years to come. I have an amazing husband who magnificently juggles a rigorous school schedule with taking care of our kids so I can squeeze in a few breaks here and there, along with teaching all of us valuable lessons of dedication, tenacity, humility, humor, and Christlike love for others. He is the best blessing in my life! Our three sweet and adorable kids make me happy every single day and help me learn to be patient even when it's the last characteristic I want to exercise. I have such great parents, siblings, in-laws, grandparents and friends who give me love and support, and I feel like I have blessings more than I deserve. Here's to many more birthdays and years of life filled with good things, happy times, and great people!

These blueberry scones are my favorite breakfast (or anytime) treat; I made them for myself on my birthday and ate nearly the whole batch (and I complain about being overweight...duh!). They are completely divine. Obviously, I couldn't button my jeans the next day. Click here if you want the recipe.

Doesn't Miss a Beat

Karli is funny...she doesn't make much noise (that is, when she's not throwing a fit), sits around and observes, and when no one's expecting it, does something hilarious with all the information she's absorbed. Case in point: last night, Adam, Derrick, Leslie, and I were eating dinner while the kids played. We looked over to see Karli "feeding" her baby doll named Jessica. She had even donned my nursing cover. She'll be a great mom someday!

Rockin' Out Hillbilly Style

Three years ago (before he was the mega-star that he is today), Adam and I went to a Trace Adkins concert in Grantsville, Utah. It was awesome, so I was thrilled to learn that he was playing in Lansing at the Common Ground Music Festival. I bought us tickets for my birthday present to myself, and yesterday we loaded up a blanket, the stroller, and the young 'uns and headed downtown to Adado Riverfront Park (by the way, the girls were stoked to hear that they were going to watch a real cowboy sing "Slap Your Grandma" aka "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk", which is one of their favorite songs).

The gates opened at 5:30 p.m., so we were there right on time to stake our claim on the best lawn seating we could get (which actually turned out to be pretty good). We helped ourselves to cotton candy, hot dogs in scones instead of buns (it sounds gross but it was actually yummy), licorice, fresh lemonade, freshly cut french fries, and a host of other horrifyingly non-nutritious-yet-delicious fair food to pass the time. Karli even enjoyed two tubes of complimentary chapstick and had minty-fresh breath and lips for the duration of the evening. Finally, around 7:00, we wondered if the concert would ever start. Adam spotted an usher and asked him what time it was supposed to get under way, and found out we still had two and a half hours left to wait!

With three kids under three, any period of idleness longer than 30 minutes can turn into a disaster at the nod of a head, so my internal panic mode immedately switched on. I didn't bring warm clothes for anyone, and our kids had only eaten junk food. I figured Rex would need to eat at some point so I took my nursing cover, but started to feel totally awkward when I actually had to breastfeed him while sitting on a blanket, surrounded by drunken people of all walks of life (it was more wierd for me to breastfeed in front of the white trash instead of the gentry...crazy, huh?). Adam and Amber left for a while to print some cases at Adam's school, and Karli helped herself to the $2 bottles of Pepsi and water, dumping them out all over the blanket, herself, and the neighbors while I was helplessly bound by humiliation to Rex until he finished eating. Add to this about seventy-eight comments by everyone around us on the size of our family (and ages), and I didn't know if I'd be able to make it.

I remained calm, though, determined to have a rockin' time, and everything miraculously worked out (can I say "miraculously" when I'm talking about breaking the Sabbath?!). Remarkably, Karli sat on the blanket and entertained herself and didn't even try to run away, and Rex didn't make a peep. Adam and Amber came back just in time for the warm-up act. The sky was cloudy but no rain fell, the kids didn't cry or whine until we were on our way to the car, and Trace Adkins played all of our favorite tunes. We even had a little swarm of lightning bugs right in front of us, which was charming beyond words. It was one of the most fun times we've had as a family and was definitely worth the money I didn't know if I should spend on myself.

A photographer from a local magazine asked if she could take our picture for the next issue, so that was flattering and kind of fun. My favorite part of the concert was the song "Arlington". Representatives from the Army passed out small, American flags during the waiting period before the concert, and everyone stood up and waved their flags during the song. It was a beautiful sight to behold with beautiful music playing. I hope we get to go to another Trace Adkins concert; it was grand!

Tales from the 'Hood, Vol. 186

We made plans to occupy our whole weekend, so we were sure we'd be able to avoid the weekly visit from the police or episode of domestic violence. Unfortunately, fate found us only moments before we walked out the door on our way to Don and Joan's:

As I put shoes on all six little feet (right in front of our door), I heard a frantic pounding. I looked out the peephole to see our neighbor, Adria (14years old) cowering by our door and sobbing. I let her in and she immediately ran into our bathroom, choking out "Don't let her beat me anymore!" I asked her to calm down and tell me what was going on, and she said her mom was beating her. Nicole (her mom) knocked on our door and Adria started sobbing again, whispering "Don't tell her I'm here!" Adam explained to Adria that we couldn't hide her in our apartment without criminal penalty, so he let Nicole in.

At this point, Adria was calling her grandma on our phone (we said she could), and Nicole took the phone from her hand and commanded her to "hang up that (expletive) phone and get your (expletive)-ing (expletive) outside this minute!" Adria screamed back, insisting she wouldn't leave our house without police presence, so Nicole and Adria stood in our entry way screaming four letter words at each other, wrestling and struggling in front of our kids (and Nicole's other two kids who are 10 and 3 years old) for about five minutes while Adam and I stood next to them in utter disbelief and shock.

Finally, the drama had gone far enough, so Adam told them it had to stop. I said we couldn't have that happening in front of our kids, so Nicole apologized and asked (aksed...ha ha ha, just kidding) Adam to please tell Adria to leave our apartment. Adria didn't look like she was wounded, but we didn't know for sure because she has really dark skin. I wasn't sure what to do, so Adam offered to call the police and told Adria she could wait by our door until they came. Adria finally went outside, where Nicole was waiting (right in front of our door) to rail on her for disrespecting our house and embarrassing her mom in front of neighbors, using the f-word more frequently than any gangsta rapper I can think of.

It was quite the spectacle, and a very, very awkward situation. I never imagined we'd get to witness the infamous Arbors-at-Georgetown-Ghetto-Action right in the comfort of our own living room! Needless to say, our poor kids were utterly traumatized (I was, too). Only six days left...hooray!

Saturday at the Holmes Home

My husband's step-grandpa's brother and his wife (how's that for a Mormon association), Don and Joan Holmes, live in Howell and have us over once or twice a semester. They have an amazing yard, are magnificent cooks, and live in the most beautiful, quiet neighborhood we've seen in Michigan. We went to their house on Saturday for a barbecue with Don, Joan, Jennifer (their granddaughter) and her husband Tom, and Jacob and Joshua, their kids. It was fabulous to be able to escape the drama of our neighborhood (well, almost...a post is coming about the weekly episode!) for a day and enjoy some peace, quiet, and normalcy. We will miss Don and Joan immensely when we move!

Amber and Karli loved to play and find frogs, lightning bugs, hummingbirds and chipmunks in the yard. They even asked Don if they could swim in his waterfall. Amber said it was a perfect slide and that it would be so fun! Don very politely declined. :)

Great Times with the Greatest Women

Living in Lansing has been a wonderful experience, due largely to the great friends I've been able to meet over the past three years. I am so impressed by their willingness to share everything they have and to help out in any way possible. I feel very blessed to know each of them and to be able to count them among my closest friends. I will definitely miss seeing them weekly and shooting the breeze at church, playgroup, or Target!

A few of us got together on Tuesday at DeLuca's (for the best pizza on the planet if you ask me) to enjoy one last hoorah before we all depart. Thanks, Elaine, for setting it up and thanks Julie, Diana, Sadie, Leslie, and Becky for being there. It was great fun. I sure will miss you!

Strange Obsessions

Amber and Karli are obsessed with all things romantic, from deciding which of the Disney princes they will marry to watching the seemingly innocent kissing scenes in the princess movies over and over and over again. Several times each day, out of the blue, Karli reminds me (since we've reminded her several times) that only "mommies and daddies kiss on lips. We only kiss on cheeks, huh?" Then she says, "Ariel and Eric kiss on lips, huh?! That's crazy!" I feel kind of disturbed by their obsession with kissing at the tender ages of two and three. Adam and I must be in for some rough teenage years!

Liz Tagged Me

What was I doing 10 years ago:
I had just graduated from high school and started classes at Ricks College. I was a lifeguard at Heise Hot Springs and loved being able to finally hang out with the college crowd and not be considered a lame high school student! :)

What is on my to-do list for today?
Grocery shopping, packing, chillin' with Adam

Three of my bad habits:
1. Negative self talk
2. Eating when bored
3. Judging people

Three things you might not know about me:
1. I want to be a guest on Jay Leno's show
2. I love to dance and sneakily do so when people aren't watching
3. I got accepted to law school (but I'm glad I didn't go!)

Movies/TV shows I love:
1. The Sopranos (A&E Version)
2. So You Think You Can Dance
3. Crash
4. Gladiator
5. Project Runway

Four Books I Love:
1. The Book of Mormon
2. The Language Instinct
3. The Hundred Dresses
4. Baking With Julia

Four Jobs I've Had:
1. Tumbling Teacher
2. Lifeguard
3. Public Relations Manager
4. Writer

Five Places that I've Lived:
1. Rexburg, Idaho
2. Alpine, Utah
3. St. George, Utah
4. Provo, Utah
5. Lansing, Michigan

Five of My Favorite Foods:
1. Deep dish pizza with ham from DeLuca's
2. Bread (right out of the oven)with homemade strawberry freezer jam
3. Vegetables
4. Black licorice
5. Ice cream

Ghetto Drama: Two for One Special

As you well know, we've had lots of trouble with our upstairs neighbor, Nancy, and her boyfriend, Richard, who fought incessantly for about six months. Finally, they stopped fighting, procured employment (as shady as it seems, at least they're out of the house), bought a nice car (drugs, anyone?), and have been model tenants except for the cigarette butts that continue to fall from their balcony onto our porch. It's actually been bearable to live beneath them for about a month.
We noticed that Nancy and Richard had a girl and guy hanging around this weekend, and last night the guests were alone in the apartment. They started fighting, rolling around, calling each other every foul name in the book, and he slapped her a few times, eliciting a few "Please stop!" screams. We called the police once, they came to the apartment, and of course, like every battered woman in the neighborhood, she told them she was fine and that nothing was happening. Ten minutes passed before they were at it again, so Adam ran outside to knock on the door while calling 911. He noticed a police car further down the lot, so he thought the officer may be able to stop at apartment #5 on his way out.
Moments before Adam went out to check out the domestic violence in #5, we heard a series of six loud, rhythmic cracks that could have been fireworks, but sounded like gunshots (we still don't know what they were). While Adam stood outside trying to get someone to stop the insanity above our apartment, at least ten police cars screeched into the parking lot with sirens and lights blaring, zooming past Adam toward our clubhouse. In the land of perpetual porchsitting, events of this nature are always a spectacle and everyone in the complex seemed to swarm the area to see what happened. Police cars lined the parking lot, blocking off the clubhouse, and lined the two streets that lead into our complex. We only know that there was "a big fight" in the clubhouse.
The guy upstairs must have called Nancy, because about 20 minutes later she stood at our door, yelling in an annoyed/panicky voice that she heard we called the cops regarding her guests. She continued to spew information that they were only 15 and 16 years old, had dropped out of school and were trying to get pregnant (the Apocalypse should begin any moment) and that they promised to behave themselves while Nancy and Richard went to a birthday party. Ahhh....Heaven help the future of this nation!
Adam explained the situation which made Nancy even more irate because her guests were sabotaging her recently polished reputation. Adam calmly told her we called the police twice because the girl was yelling for help. Nancy marched up to her apartment, dragged the girl down to our door, and asked Adam to verify that she was the girl in the apartment. After verification, Nancy marched the girl back upstairs, demanded that she and the boyfriend leave immediately, and Richard's wrath was let loose upon the pair of them until they made the walk of shame from our building to the bus stop. Talk about entertainment; we are so excited to get out of here!

Midnight Visitor

I have to admit one thing: if we are going to have disturbances in the night due to unexpected visitors, I think I'd rather have it be mysterious criminals escaping the law than vermin. Unfortuately, the pond behind our house is a haven for both, so once in a while we get the latter sort (they don't even have the courtesy to knock on the door and give us a chance to grab the gun...they come in from under the oven and scare us out of our wits). We managed to grab a picture of our univited guest last night before we dispatched him to the dumpster where he'll hopefully be a happier rodent.

If you know Adam, you know that even though he is a strapping man who is afraid of very few things, mice get the best of him. He has my utter respect, though, because I am even more freaked out by the creepy, crawly creatures and could never muster enough courage/gall to stick my head under the oven and remove the trap. While I'm undecided on whether I prefer live or fatal traps, one thing is certain: I prefer visitors of the human persuasion!

I've Been Tagged: Six of My Many Quirks

My sister-in-law, Amy, tagged me, so here are six quirks:

1. My closet is organized by item type and color and in a very specific order. It drives me crazy to have an item out of place, not hanging the right direction, falling halfway off the hanger, etc.

2. I feel naked if I go for a run or walk by myself or without a stoller holding at least one child.

3. I'm a showering and shaving obsessor. Sometimes I shower four times a day, and frequently I've shaved my legs twice in one day. I have to shower and shave everything from my neck down every morning or I can't function; I'd shave my head and eyebrows, too, if I wouldn't look like a space freak. Body hair of any kind makes me absolutely sick, as does "bed smell".

4. I also have a very specific plan for items that go in the dishwasher (like Amy) and get really irritated if someone else loads the dishes the "wrong" way.

5. My toenails and fingernails must be as short as possible at all times; any white extension makes me feel dirty and bothers me tremendously!

6. I'm a bit of a kitchen snob; I love to use the best pans, knives, tools, appliances, and ingredients that I can and I treat my batterie de cuisine better than most of my posessions (hand washing, careful drying and placement in cabinets, etc.).

Leslie, Stephanie, Becky W., Adam, Jeanette, and Lindsey...you're it!

Happy Birthday, Karli!

I can't believe little Karli is already two years old! We had a fun weekend celebrating her birthday and finished it off with a big slice of Mike last night (Karli is obsessed with the movie Monsters, Inc., so I tried my hand at a monster cake). Derrick and Leslie came over to join the party and brought Karli an adorable Nemo bubble-blowing machine that Amber loves to "borrow".

Along with her pierced ears and new fuzzy blankie from her family, Grandma and Grandpa Liljenquist sent Karli a cute package full of fun surprises: hair barettes, movies, money for treats from the ice cream truck, princess jammies, a cover-up, and an adorable Ariel swimming suit. Grandma and Grandpa Clark gave Karli some money to use for a shopping spree where she found a cute baby doll that coos and giggles, another movie, Curious George panties, a bubble tumbler, and some new shirts. Great Grandma and Grandpa Rydalch sent her $5 to buy a new Barney book. Karli really cleaned up this year; thank you so much for all of your generosity and kindness! :)

False Alarm (the good kind)

Just to let everyone know, we are going to stay in Lansing until July 18th. That means we get a few more weeks of playgroup, the Trace Adkins concert for my birthday (yay!) and more time with Adam! :) We'll see you in Utah in three weeks!

Quasimo(squi)do

I took the kids for a walk on Tuesday morning when the temperature was a balmy 65 degrees and the humidity must have been at least 85 percent. Yesterday, we sat in the park for about 20 minutes around 11:00 a.m., still in air wetter than any tropical destination. Without knowing it, I managed to garner 27 mosquito bites, some of which penetrated my shirt (and I even have one on the bottom of my foot, right in the arch). They are gigantic and are driving me completely crazy! The biggest one of all is right on the back of my neck and leaves me looking like a poor old hunchback with only one thing to say: SANCTUARY!

Six Days Left

The kids and I are flying to Utah on Friday, never to return to our little house in the ghetto; I am so excited to be out of Lansing but feel a little melancholy to be leaving such wonderful friends (being away from Adam for a month is awful, too!). We've been here for three years--longer than we've lived anywhere as a couple--and I actually do feel a bit sad to be moving on. As ridiculous as it may sound, I've grown to love going to playgroup because I've met many amazing women (and their darling kids) who are wise, friendly, and funny to boot. I'll definitely miss everyone in the Holt Ward...and the pizza from DeLuca's! :)

From Baby to Big Girl in No Time Flat

I'm amazed by how quickly children grow up, especially when they do it right before my eyes. Just last week I felt like Karli would be a tantrum-throwing, whining infant forever, and yesterday I noticed she was talking to everyone like a tiny adult, reasoning and communicating with actual words instead of wailing and sobbing. Suddenly, she's even more entertaining and loveable than before and it's so fun to see/hear her develop into a big girl.

We marked the occasion (and her upcoming 2nd birthday) by getting her long-awaited earrings today. She was so brave and only cried for a few seconds. She told me she wanted "Monsters, Inc. earrings with soap in them", so I made an executive interpretation and ordered the clear, sparkly kind that I liked best. She has been such a good girl to not touch the earrings and lets me clean and medicate them without a fight. She says she looks like Giselle from "Enchanted" and is so excited to have pierced ears like Amber. Her little ears look darling!

Death by Olives

My poor digital camera finally gave up its ghost after three long years of toddler abuse. It's door hung by a meager, broken hinge for at least a year before it finally snapped off, thus rendering the camera useless (the broken door leaves the camera in a permanent "off" position; I'm considering a law suit against HP for an inherent design flaw). Goodbye, dear camera, you've been a great help in documenting some magnificent moments in my life.

One ray of light in this tragic moment is the slew of pictures I took just before zero hour: a feast of olives by Amber and Karli. I've only met one person who doesn't like olives (Adam) and I got a big kick out of seeing Amber and Karli put an olive on each finger the way I used to when I was a kid. Karli even managed to fit a few on her smaller toes (I envy her flexibility but am certainly glad I'm past the years of thinking it's cool to eat with my feet). They had a blast making "monster hands" and eating the olives off each other's digits until Amber accidentally took a bite of Karli's index finger.

Nudie Fest

Karli has finally taken someone over to the dark side; Rex enjoys spending time in the buff just as much as she does. Thank heavens he can't vocalize his desires like Karli can. She always yells out, "I want to be nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnNUDIE!" even in the grocery store and Relief Society.

Gas and Giggles

Rex has been smiling a bunch; of course, his best smiles occured just before we turned on the camera today. He is very well natured and we love having him around!

Rachael Ray, Beware

Amber is going to take over your career! She loves to cook and even has her own little toque. Here's the first take of the "Cheese Pie" episode of her cooking show. :)

Let the Humiliation Commence!

I've dreaded the moment for the span of my motherhood, and it finally happened last night at Target. Amber and Karli were in the shopping cart while Adam was loading items in after they were scanned by the checker. I was standing by, absently staring off (my lack-of-sleep induced behavior du jour) and faintly hearing Amber begging Adam to let her hold the lipstick she picked out. Adam said, "What? You want to hold the diapers?" Amber said, "No! The lipstick!" Adam: "You wear diapers?" Amber: "No, silly! Karli wears diapers. Mom wears diapers, too, after she has a baby!"
The checker, a 19-ish boy who was pretty punky, tried valliantly to stifle a surprised laugh, but couldn't do it. He chuckled as Adam finished loading up the goods (I was halfway out the door at this point!) and steered the cart away from the counter. Just then, Amber yelled out, "Mom, that guy (the checker) has earrings. That's funny!" Adam pushed the cart to the door as fast as he could and I was trying to hide my face in my hoodie as we scurried to the car.
I always worried that I embarrass Amber in front of her friends and other people, but now I'm not so concerned. I suppose the comments she made could have been much worse, so I'll chalk this up as a humorous moment in history and hope that this is as bad as it gets! :)

We Could All Use a Little More

Check out my all-time favorite TV commercial in the sidebar. I saw it the other night on So You Think You Can Dance and I got teary-eyed because I felt so inspired (okay, fine...I am really hormonal and tear up when I see a pile of clean clothes folded neatly...what can I say?!). I hope you like it!

Word Craft

As an English major, I'm pretty much enthralled by language and the acquisition thereof (nerd alert!). One of my favorite things to witness as a mother is the way my kids use their newfound linguistic skills to communicate. Recently, Amber has been rhyming and making up nonsense words and it is often hilarious to hear what she develops. A few days ago, she and Karli were playing in our bedroom and Amber said, "Come get me, Beeheehee!" Beeheehee now serves as one of Karli's nicknames (Amber coined her other nickname as well: Carlos), the name of a game (it involves playing in a specific region of the bedroom), and a word that also describes any general person who is bothering Amber ("Don't, Beeheehee!").

My Narcissistic Experiment

To all of you ladies out there (I don't think I've achieved the blogger popularity of having mannies read my blog, but in case I have, by all means, mannies...go right ahead, too), I've started a new blog called Mama Moda. I'm hoping you'll all visit and post your best advice, recipes, tips, etc. Hopefully, it will be a helpful forum to record and reference all the wonderful ideas we hear and share everyday. Thanks in advance for your input and I hope you enjoy it!

http://mamamoda.blogspot.com

Lost in Translation

Amber and Karli are talking up a storm these days; Karli is learning how to use sentences and Amber is rapidly increasing her vocabulary (a result of her constant stream of questions, I think). The cutest thing about this new linguistic phenomenon is that they both get new, large words confused with other words they already know. Here are some of the best:

Amber told Adam she wants a red "incredible" (convertible).
Amber and Adam bought "elevator" at Meijer (Gatorade).
"Bacteria" put Karli in her car seat for me yesterday (Octavia, our neighbor).
Karli's new favorite movie is "George Washington" (Curious George).

My Little Mermaid

Amber has always loved mermaids; she was Aquamarine for Halloween and is obsessed with Disney's "The Little Mermaid". She even has a crush on Prince Eric and pretends to call him on her Little Mermaid cell phone. Imagine her delight when she saw this large rock at Georgetown Park the other day. She screamed out, "Look Mom! A rock like Ariel's!" and climbed onto it as fast as she could. She immediately started singing, "Watch and you'll see, someday I'll be part of your world!" and did the dramatic back-arch move that Ariel does. It was adorable!

Great Dane

My little sister, Allison, was called to the Denmark Copenhagen mission today. My cousin, Skyler, is serving there, too, so they'll get to see each other once in a while. Our ancestors came from Denmark; maybe Allison will have an advantage with a Danish last name. She is set to leave on September 3rd and I know she'll be a great missionary!

Swamp Things

Living in Michigan has taught me to appreciate the things I hated while growing up in Idaho and Utah, but living in a desert is the thing I took for granted the most. Yesterday we had torrential rain for six hours. Normally, I would have been elated to open the windows, smell the fresh, cool air, and snuggle up with Adam to enjoy the sexiness of a rainstorm of that magnitude. This storm, however, had no cooling effect on the 88-degree temperature and the air was anything but fresh. In weather like this, showering seems utterly pointless as one can never actually dry off afterward. Fixing my hair is also pointless because despite using the best in anti-humectant technology, it hangs in the same, shapeless and frizzy mass only moments after I unplug my flatiron. I must say I cannot stand amphibious living any longer!

The 80%-plus humidity also wreaks havoc on my laundry, and I am falling victim to what I deem the most horrific domestic odor: sour towels. I suffered from this travesty for the better part of my childhood and vowed that when I had my own house, my towels would never have a discernible fragrance. I have, up until this point, been able to maintain wonderfully clean and fresh towels, but last night I experienced a terrible shock when I emerged from the shower and grabbed my newly-washed towel from the bar. As soon as it touched my wet face, the acrid, sour odor blasted into my nostrils and nearly knocked me out. I frantically thought to myself "How could this be happening to me?" After all, I use bleach and baking soda in every load of towels that I wash, and I am the from-washer-immediately-to-dryer Nazi of the Clark home. The only explanation is the cursed humidity; the towels don't even get dry in the dryer. They hang in the bathroom to dry but don't have a chance in heck, hence we are stuck in the awful, disgusting cycle of towel stench. Save us!

Nothin' But a G Thang

Here are some of Rex's best tricks--the gang signs he's learned from five weeks of living in the ghettos of Lansing. He's a 'hood figga; he even has the saggy shorts-for-pants. Word.

Adventure in the 'Hood

Last night we had yet another brush with crime and punishment; of course, we wouldn't be able to have a normal week at The Arbors without a visit from the police.

At 11:00 p.m., Adam was lying down by Amber and Rex in our room and I was working in the office. We heard a knock on our door and assumed it was our beloved upstairs neighbor coming to chat with (lie to) us about the goings on with her multiple lovers and roomates. Adam jumped up, threw on some clothes, and retrieved the revolver from the top shelf of our closet. He carefully opened the door to find a young black male (I'll affectionately refer to him as Suspect #2; you'll know why in a moment) trying to push his way past our neighbor, Ken, into their apartment.

Adam said, "Did you knock on our door?" and #2, feverishly out of breath and looking horrified, told Adam he had just been jumped in the parking lot. Suspect #2 proceeded to pull out a $10 bill (convenient after being jumped, no?), hand it to Adam, and say, "I need to come in and call my girlfriend." Adam said, "There's no way I'm letting you in my house, but I'd be happy to call the police for you. Wait here." #2 said, "No, that's o.k." and walked away quickly.

An element which makes this event even more bizarre and creepy is the wailing of several police sirens heard in the area. Adam shut the door and told me about the conversation. We started wondering if QD, the gas station on our corner, or one of the adjacent liquor stores had been robbed again. Adam decided to go check it out and left me with the loaded gun and the kids.

Shortly thereafter, he called my phone and said, "Lock it up!" I could hear police talking to him on the other end and then he said he had to go but would be right home. At QD, Adam told police what had happened. The officer asked for our address (to which he replied, "Oh yeah...you have a problem neighbor in #5, huh?" See what we deal with?!) and asked Adam if he could identify Suspect #2 if he needed him to do so in a line up. Adam said yes, gave the officer his phone number and an offical statement, and returned home.

An hour later, the midnight need for a Monster emerged and Adam headed back to QD to see if the robbery had been cleared up. The clerk said they hadn't been robbed, but that there was a horrbile accident on I-96 (a block southwest of our apartment) and that someone had been hit while trying to cross the freeway. Adam drove over to the scene to find crime tape, ten cop cars, and numerous emergency vehicles. Upon his return, we anxiously waited for a news report to crop up. At around 5:00 a.m. (I finally gave up at 2:00, but he managed to stay awake), Adam told me the whole story. Check it out here: http://www.lansingstatejournal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080603/NEWS01/80603001

We believe our visitor last night was Suspect #2. Needless to say, we felt like we were living in an episode of "Cops." Who needs movies when you have real-life crime drama unfolding at your door?

Precious

The other day, Amber and Rex interacted so much that they tuckered right out on the couch. It was adorable!

The New Normal

I never believed that having strict schedules and enforcing routines was all it is cracked up to be. Yes, I know, many of you are frenetically gripping your mouses (mice?) and uttering horror-filled gasps of disgust, but I liked having a bit of flexibility in our family's procedures for two reasons: 1) We operate on a student's clock, which means we steal family togetherness time whenever we can (generally between nine and ten-thirty p.m. and lately around four a.m. for a fun-filled session of whining, eating, whining, movie watching, more whining, and back/tummy/arm/leg/foot tickling) and 2) Spontaneity is something I have always loved. Those were the good old days!

Now, since the feeble daily structure that we maintained pre-Rex is shattered, I yearn to Stepfordize my family's activities for the sake of my fleeting sanity. I never knew I had it so good as far as accomplishing basic tasks goes. My whole method of living is unraveled and I wonder if I'll ever find a 15-minute window of time to actually work out again. I guess I'm almost there, though; I do manage to put on my work out clothes before someone needs a diaper change, a meal, or a load of laundry washed--needless to say, I've been wearing the same work out clothes for a week because they never get worn during a work out.

Ironically, I see that even I, the non-routinist, did in fact employ a schedule that worked fairly well until May second rolled around. I'm taking bets on how long it will be before I regain a livable mode of functionality.

Random Things That Make Me Happy

People always tell me it's the small things that make life wonderful and I agree. I find it funny that once in a while, the small things are SO small, no one but ourselves would be able to notice them. Hence, the purpose of this post. Here are two of my very small things:

1) I finally made a complete batch of sugar cookies (dough-making, refrigeration period, cooking, cooling, frosting-making, and decorating always seems to be way too much of a process for me) and actually had them turn out. They were so cute that I indeed hesitated before I ate each cookie in nearly the whole batch. It did help me, though, that two of our neighborhood kids walked right into our apartment and helped themselves to a few without asking. :) My inner Martha was very satisfied with the darling (if I may say so myself) 7-minute frosting job.

2) As I prepared to take a shower this morning, I noticed the bottom of my ribcage for the first time in about six months. To some, this may seem trivial to the point of ridicule, but to all of you who have been pregnant, this is a reason to rejoice! I must admit, the ribs are still covered in an abundant layer of loose skin and fat, but to see the mere shape--even a suggestion--of a ribcage made me smile.

Despite the six loads of laundry to fold, a filthy bathroom to clean, and three sinkfuls of dirty dishes to wash, today is going to be a glorious day!

Sexy Rexy

Rex is rarely awake, so anytime he opens his eyes I reach for the closest camera I can find (usually my cell phone...which explains the bad resolution and lighting, sorry!). Here are a few shots of the handsome little devil:



Yes, yes...that is a nightgown, but I swear it's a boy nightgown (what!?). Despite the problems that may arise down the road involving Rex's sense of gender identity, the boy nightgowns make 3 a.m. diaper changes much easier on mom (try snapping up a sleeper in a dark room without contacts in).

Obviously, Rex is not starving. Some of his newborn clothes are already tight around his tummy and he's only three weeks old. His cheeks are even more kissable and squishable (Amber and Karli's preferred method of displaying affection) than they were a just a week ago. Rex has been a joy and we really like having another male in the house. He only cries when he's hungry and he's been smiling a lot (o.k., fine, it's a polite way to say he has gas a lot). We love him!

Cutie Pies

My friend Jeanette Neal is a photographer and took some great shots of the kids right after Rex was born. Here are just a few; there were too many wonderful pictures to post them all. I highly recommend her services, so check out her blog (it's the Neal Family in my list of links). For all of you who are interested, let me know if you want me to send some to Wal-Mart to be printed for you (size, black and white or color, photo selection, etc.).

Man Naps

Today Adam put Rex down for his morning nap. He said, "Hey Rex, should we take a man nap?" and they both dozed off. Apparently, a man nap involves two handsome guys sleeping in a big bed with blue sheets and a couple of very masculine, extra-pink Dora and Hello Kitty blankets.

The Midnight Shuffle

I'm sure every parent can relate to this...here's a rundown of the sleeping arrangements that comprised last night:

9:00 p.m. Rex falls asleep in his pack & play (in the family room)
10:00 p.m. Karli falls asleep in her crib (in the bedroom)
11:15 p.m. Amber and Natalie fall asleep in Adam and Nat's bed (in the bedroom, too)
3:24 a.m. Adam moves Amber to her toddler bed (also in the bedroom) and climbs in to bed with Natalie
3:25 a.m. Karli wakes up and gets in bed with Adam, Natalie, and Rex (who is eating)
3:31 a.m. Karli gets relegated to Rex's pack & play (in the living room) because she won't stop screaming
3:39 a.m. Rex gets put in Karli's crib
4:48 a.m. Amber jumps from her bed into Adam and Natalie's bed
6:30 a.m. Adam gets out of bed and ready for school
7:03 a.m. Karli climbs out of Rex's bed and crawls in bed with Natalie and Amber
7:12 a.m. Rex needs to eat again, so he joins the crew in the big bed
7:30 a.m. Rex goes back into Karli's crib
7:31 a.m. Natalie takes her blanket to the couch for 29 minutes of uninterrupted sleep

I have to say that I am most excited for Adam to graduate simply because we can move to a place that has more than one available bedroom! We have quite a circus each night. :)

Intellectual Atrophy

I always thought mommy brain syndrome was a myth until I had kids. It seems like after each of my children was born, I had a period of about three months in which my brain could not handle even the simplest non-child-related process of information. The sad thing about this condition is that it seems to worsen sequentially. This must mean I'm in for a lifetime of staring blankly at adults who try to communicate with me, thinking of nothing but diapers, spaghetti-o's, and sippy cups, and absently responding with a confused "huh?" to everything said to me by anyone older than three.

Yesterday I tried my hand at some of Adam's advanced writing problems and I was stunned to know that I, a devoted grammarian and English major, couldn't even attempt three of the problems, let alone complete any of them correctly. I actually came down with a splitting headache after ten minutes of trying to simplify a sentence full of legalese.

Yet another manifestation of my degenerating mental capacity emerged today as I helped our neighbor make her prom dress: I had to sew in and remove the zipper three times before it looked remotely presentable. Despite reading the instructions four times and having sewn in close to 20 zippers in recent months, I could not figure out how to get the right sides of the zipper to lie on the right sides of the fabric.

Even writing this blog post has taxed my feeble cranium to its limit (I had to use spell-check and found several mistakes!); perhaps this severe and embarrassing mental degeneration is actually a blessing in disguise to help me not realize how absolutely crazy it is to have three kids under three years old. I am lolling along in a blissful daze, my numb brain allowing me to thoroughly enjoy my new baby and become more and more immune to my toddlers' recently implemented blood-curdling-scream reactions to every little irritation they face. For the sake of all you readers, my poor husband who must feel like he has four children to whom he speaks instead of three, and myself, I hope this case of mommy brain syndrome goes away soon!

Hip Hop Hooray

Amber and Karli love to perform for our friends Derrick and Leslie. Whenever we see the Larsons, the girls break out their yoga moves, their funny lines, and everything else that's hilarous. The latest routine features both of the girls waving their arms above their heads and singing "Hip hop hooray... ho... hay...ho...hay...ho...hay!" and shaking their booties. It's pretty darn funny!

Third Time's a Charm

We are so excited to have Rex here! I think all my complaining during pregnancy paid off, because this delivery (sorry to all you moms out there) was a breeze! I feel blessed and very lucky to have had such an easy delivery without complications and a recovery that has been going uncannily well thus far.

I woke up on Friday, took a shower, fixed my hair, did my makeup, and we all headed to the hospital. I checked in at 8:00 a.m., but wasn't hooked up to the pitocin until about 10:15. Before my contractions were too painful, I had a successful epidural and was able to sneak in a nice little nap while Adam took the girls to pick up my mom in East Lansing. As soon as they returned, I had dilated to 8 centimeters (6 centimeters in 45 minutes isn't too shabby, 'eh?) and got the go-ahead from the resident doctor to try a "practice push". She wasn't ready to deliver, and my doctor had just peeked in to see what was happening. I pushed and Rex's head began to emerge!

Doctor Russell yelled, "Go get dressed!" to the resident who was frantically donning gloves, a robe, the sweet deflector-glasses with pink frames (like they really need those, right?) and all the requisite garb. She ran back and told me to push one more time. The baby's head came right out, along with a profusion of amniotic fluid that squirted in a cartoon-like arc directly onto Adam's shirt and arm; I've never seen a look of sheer disgust more telling than his (I was keenly impressed by his controlled tongue, however, when he stopped short of letting the expletives fly), nor a more repulsive display of fluid spraying in every direction that immediately illustrated the necessity of those dorky glasses after all. One more push was all it took before Rex was lying on my (much smaller...ahhhh) stomach and whimpering quietly while sucking his fingers. Poor Adam was again forced to be involved beyond his desire when the resident doctor thrust the scissors into his hand and said, "O.K., dad, cut right here." The whole ordeal was over by 2:00 p.m., just in time for me to have lunch! :)

Rex weighed in at 8 pounds and 1 ounce (90th percentile...I'm so glad he was a week early!) and is 21 inches long. He's so mellow and adorable and looks just like Adam. Amber and Karli can't stop kissing him, holding him, honking his tiny nose, and placing (forcing) his binky in his mouth. They are great big sisters and already love to spoil their baby brother. We are all thankful for this wonderful miracle and new life in our family, as well as the love and support that our families and friends give us. We are so blessed!

18 Hours and Counting

I'm being induced tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m. and can't wait another minute! I'm so excited to be rid of this gigantic, heaving, automatonic belly I've been hositing and carrying around for what seems like an eternity. More than that, though, I am thrilled by the thought of meeting a new child. I think it will be such a blast to see who he looks like and be reminded how tiny newborns actually are.

Here are the final stats on total damages sustained over the past 40 weeks:
Weight gained - 35 pounds
Inches gained around waist - 17.5
Seconds of mild activity before becoming winded - 12
Cans of Diet Pepsi consumed - 126
False-alarm trips to hospital - 2
Ultrasounds - 3

In the end, I feel like it will all be worth the trouble, but I'll definitely need an abundant period of time before I even want to think about pregnancy in any way, shape, or form again!

Karli's Haircut

Karli is definitely a free spirit; she loves to be naked, she hates wearing shoes, and she absolutely detests having her hair fixed. Since she made a daily routine of removing her hair accessories only seconds after I wrestled her to the ground, pinned her on the floor and combed her hair after each bath, finally her poor, pregnant mom had enough!

In a huff, I decided to cut Karli's hair into a fierce little bob--the kind that looks best when it's not fixed. Karli loved getting her hair cut and I felt grand knowing that I wouldn't have to fight with her every morning or have a daughter who looked as if she emerged from the world's nappiest trailer park. The A-line shape really compliments her features, I think, and matches her feisty personality.

Of course, I didn't ask Adam if he minded, I just did it. When he woke up from a nap, he was stunned, and not in a good way. He immediately started calling Karli "son" and let me know he felt bad that I made our child look like a dork and didn't give him the chance to intercede on her behalf. I felt terrible, and spent the rest of the evening regretting my scissor-frenzied escapade.

This morning, I love the haircut and don't feel too bad about doing something so drastic. After all, it is just hair and it will grow back (very soon, undoubtedly, considering Karli's rate of hair growth). If I can convince Adam, everything will be grand: he'll know that her haircut really is in style and girlish and I won't have to fruitlessly fix her hair every day of my life!