poor Sister Pieper

This is a picture of my sister, as a cute little sister missionary, on the day she went into the MTC. She looks so happy, doesn't she?

You might be wondering why such a happy girl is to be pitied. Because that picture was taken 18 months ago--today is the day she comes home. And I think she has been dreading this day! I do feel sorry for her, because it is hard leaving something you love so much. And I feel sorry for her because adjusting to normal life is awkward. And I feel sorry for her because my mom, out of sheer joy, is going to sit in the backseat with her on the way home and pat and rub her little arm raw.
But sorry Sister Pieper, I am really not that sad for you, because I finally get my sister back!

Welcome home, Larsie!

not cute anymore

That whole crib escape routine and "wheeee" thing Noah does is getting old. So now we need advice on making the transition to a toddler bed. If you are so inclined (and I hope you are, we could really use some help here), please leave a comment with something brilliant, or at least interesting, or really anything, we aren't picky.

P.S. I have also solicited advice on my awesome friend's moms-helping-moms blog. You could check that out if you are looking for something else to read. Here's the link:
http://youngmothersclub.blogspot.com/

thanks

Pioneer Day

I love Pioneer Day in Utah. I am always looking for a good reason to make a holiday out of something. That's the nice thing about being in Utah on July 24--you get a built-in extra holiday. Our little town had a parade so we headed "downtown" to check it out. Kyle always mocks me for my love of small-town celebrations. It's something big city folks can never understand. But he humored me and came along for the party. And he only made one little comment when I dressed Noah in pioneer clothes.

that was Noah's 3rd Otter Pop. St. George parades are all about popsicles, to reward parade-goers for venturing outside in the summer heat (Yes, it was 112 degrees here last week).

the only picture we got of Jake: (oops. Obviously he is a second child. We really do love him.)

And about the fireworks: We did finally find some, after driving all over St. George following some misleading newspaper article lead. We were very, very far away so the fireworks were less than impressive, but it was a beautiful night and we were in good company so it was still a whole day well spent.

Thanks to the pioneers for coming to Utah, it is a pretty nice place. And here's a bonus picture from the past.

Kitchen fun

Noah is entertained by everything in the kitchen. He used to like cooking with me, but now he is my little dish-washer. He will pull up the kitchen chair to the sink and say: “wash!” So I turn on the “wa-wa,” and he grabs the scrub brush and goes to town. He likes to drink the water out of the dirty bowls--disgusting, I know. So we’ve been trying to load the dirty dishes into the dishwasher promptly, instead of leaving them in the sink to tempt Noah.

(yes, he climbed into the sink all by himself. Apparently it is easier to wash dishes while you are actually in the sink with the dishes.)

So as Noah is becoming interested in the manual dish washing process, he is losing interest in our dishwasher machine. Thank goodness. All those times he would open the dishwasher and climb up onto the door, or pull all the silverware out, or start the dishwasher cycle…keeping him away from all that fun was exhausting. I never thought I was getting through to him. Until a few weeks ago, our friends were visiting, and their little boy tried to open up the dishwasher. I caught Noah reprimanding him: “NO! Blake, NO!” he scolded, even pointing and shaking his little finger at the culprit.

And then there’s the refrigerator. We need to invest in a good lock. He is always opening it up and pulling out random foods. I have actually seen him swing open the fridge, extract a gallon of milk, unscrew the cap, take a big swig, and finish with an exhuberant "Ahhhhhhh" of satisfaction. We are very refined in our house.

And this was his snack of choice last week:

Yes, that is butter. And yes, those are teeth marks in the butter. In the words of Noah: "Mmmmmm."

The Great Escape

One morning, instead of Noah's usual wake-up sounds ("Mama! Dada! Bug!..."), I heard him say over and over again: "Uh oh. Uh oh. Uh oh." I was intrigued. So I didn't wait to check it out. When I walked in, this is what I saw.

Bless his heart, he didn't even try to escape.

That's grounds for a new crib, since it probably doesn't meet the safety standards. But I kind of forgot about it because that was an isolated event. Until this morning. I was awake and attempting to be productive, when I walk past his room and notice the door is open. Strange, I think to myself. He doesn't sleep with the door open. I peek through the doorway, and there, Noah stands victorious, liberated from the crib, with his two little feet firmly planted on the ground. He looks so proud. He points to the crib wall on the floor, and explains how he managed his escape: "Wheeeeee!" he says, his word for "slide". Well done, Noah.

Aspiring Ace of Cakes

My latest dream is to become a cake artist. I've been watching Ace of Cakes and The Most Amazing Wedding Cakes religiously. Those cakes are Unbelievable and they have inspired me. I'm considering signing up for Michaels' cake decorating classes. The other day at Walmart I stood in the cake decorating aisle for 15 minutes imagining my future as a highly successful cake maker. I did have a real purpose being there (I don't usually loiter in public places just to daydream). Kyle's birthday was coming, so I had the opportunity to plan and make a cake, and also to determine whether I had any raw cake artistry talents. You can be the judge. Here's the finished product after almost 3 hours!:

I'm kind of joking, I promise I don't think I'm amazing or anything. I posted a blurry picture because the cupcakes look better that way. If you can't tell, the cupcakes are golf holes (18 in all just like a real course, with flags, sand traps, water hazards, and golf balls.) Turns out the whole cake decorating thing is harder than I thought (even with a loyal assistant like Lisa). This is what they were supposed to look like:

Maybe if I was Martha Stewart I would have access to things like "colored sanding sugar." Anyway I don't think I'll really go professional. I would gain 50 lbs. being around all that buttercream frosting. I ended up eating 7 of the 18 "holes". So, it turns out, cupcakes don't have to look all that impressive to taste impressive. Happy Birthday to my favorite golfer, I'll make you a cake any day.

like a child

Yesterday we celebrated the 4th of July with fireworks. 4th of July used to be my favorite holiday (before becoming a sentimental mom and latching on to Thanksgiving). There's just something wonderful about fireworks. I didn't used to think so. I still remember my childhood Independence Day celebrations spent hiding under the seat of our van to escape death by fireworks!

I wondered how Noah would respond to his first real fireworks show. I thought I better prep him before dumping him on a blanket in a dark field way past his bedtime with explosions and fire and brimstone showering down upon him. So I sat him down and told him we were going to watch fireworks. This was a new word for him. He paused and thought for a minute, and then his eyes lit up and he puckered up his lips and blew (as if blowing out a candle). I said, yes it was fire in the sky, with loud noises. Boom Boom, I said, and moved my hands like I would during "Popcorn Popping". We drew pictures of fireworks, all different colors against the black night sky and made sound effects to go with the drawings. For the rest of the evening, he kept running to the window, looking outside saying: "Boom Boom! Sky!" Finally it got dark and we loaded into the truck and drove up the road on the red cliffs. We found a good parking place and climbed into the bed of the truck. The fireworks show started, and it was hands down the best fireworks I've seen. Not because they were spectacular (it is St. George, after all...) or because we had the best spot (we were pretty far away). But because we were with a child. I won't forget the look on his face when he saw the first firework. And since we were far enough away, the look on his face was not one of terror. I think you'd call it "wonder". I watched him more than I watched the fireworks. On the drive home I told Kyle the reason I love fireworks is that it makes me feel like a child (a child without the firework phobia, of course).

Noah woke up this morning still talking about the fireworks in his crib. And he hasn't stopped. He keeps saying: "Boom Boom! Boom Boom! Pleeeeese??" in the context of "Mommy please please take me to see more fireworks!!" and I've been trying to come up to appropriate responses. "Fireworks went bye-bye." "Fireworks are all gone." "Fireworks will come back later."

The good thing is that we are Mormons living in Utah in July. So until Pioneer day, we will be drawing a lot of Boom Booms and counting down the days until the fireworks come back!

Jacob (s)Miles

Jacob was 2 months yesterday. He is growing into his cuteness and becomes even more endearing every day. Especially because of his smiles. There's nothing like seeing that sweet little toothless newborn smile. It melts my heart every time! I read that universally, in every culture, babies begin flashing their social smiles at around the same 6-week mark. Jacob is no exception. The past couple of weeks he has been very responsive to my smile-coaxing techniques, which I have been perfecting for years. Back when I was 8 years old, I was caught on tape trying to make my youngest brother Kenton smile by tickling his cheeks while chanting repeatedly: "Can ouuuuu smiiiile for meeeeeeeeee?" in a very annoying high-pitched voice. My family still mocks me for that, but I don't let it get me down, and I haven't abandoned my technique, because it works!