Reunion

These pictures were taken at West Piney Girls Camp somewhere in eastern Idaho. In early August, we had our second Pieper family reunion there. I remember it from my childhood--flights down the big alpine slide, games of Uno, and wading expeditions to collect rocks in he cold mountain water. I expected the slide to be less massive to my adult eyes, but surprisingly it was still good and scary. I only braved it once, and after witnessing two subsequent injuries (when my mom and noah went down together and my mom landed on her foot and hit her head on the slide, and then when Kyle flew off the end when he slid down to "rescue" them), I didn't work up the nerve to do it again. Cousin Julie was just as youthful and daring as ever, she and the big boys dumped cups of water on the slide (which a big white sign at the top of the slide warned against, for safety reasons) to accelerate their rides. She informed me that I was pretty boring this trip. I've never been much of a daredevil, and if possible, I've become more of a scaredy cat now that I have little children in my care. I did let Noah go down three times, once with dad, once with Uncle Kenton and once with Grandma. He loved it each time, but I have to admit, I was nervous every time.

I spent most of the time catching up with Lauren, since that was our first reunion after 18 months. She was good with the boys, so I wish she'd move here and be their nanny. It was good to see Granny Pie. She absolutely loved the reunion. And on multiple occasions when I sat down to talk with her, she cried because she was just so happy to see everyone all together. It was just a fast weekend trip, and it was a little expensive at that, but as cheesy as it sounds, being with the people you love makes it all worthwhile.

Noah has a lot to say

Noah is losing his quirky little Noah sign language and baby talk. His made-up sign for pacifier is long gone, and he’s even moved beyond "Chup" to the whole “Chupone”. Instead of pointing to the sky, he says: “Airplane”. Where he used to point with his finger and say “sw sw sw” now he just says “Fish”. All the other animal sounds that we loved for so long are being replaced by the real animal words. Cow, cat, horse, lion, cougar. He used to put his hand up by his head and go “oooooh” for elephant, but now he uses the word. Saddest of all sad is that he’s lost his happy feet. The sign he always did for penguin, a fast little foot jig, was my favorite. He says “Pengwee” now.

He used to say “Nana” for Noah, but the other day he surprised me with his perfect pronunciation of Noah. Kyle was so excited, but I almost cried, and since then, when he has "Nana" relapses, I secretly get excited.

He does speak mostly in a Bostonian accent, just like Kyle did when he was a kid. He says "bay-ahww" for bear. and "cahhhh" for car.

His prayers are becoming more specific and understandable. He points to everything on the table while he prays and blesses everything: “yogurt, cereal, milk, juice, spoon, bowl.” Apparently blessing the "food" was too generic. He usually says “Dad. Work” (dad needs blessings at work). He asked God to bless “Chief” today. And his Amen is stronger than ever, on Sunday he shouted it out proudly after the sacrament prayers. He hasn't mastered the quiet voice yet.

He picks up on ideas so quickly, things that we aren't even trying to teach him. The other day we told Noah he was going to play with the kids at Jared’s house. He cheered : “Yay, Woo Woo!” and I thought he was just excited about going to play with the kids. But then he said: “Golf!” He must have remembered that Kyle has been golfing with Jared, and so he associates Jared with golfing. He got excited because he thought we were going to go golfing.

During many of our conversations, especially those involving any kind of discipline, Noah controls the conversation by asking: "What?" over and over and over and over again. I repeat what I said, usually something like: "That's a no-no." or "don't throw your chup" or "be nice to Jake." and he responds: "What?" and so we go back and forth like a broken record.

He also likes to ask: "mom what doing?" (What are you doing?). Sometimes when we are riding in the car, he asks me again and again "mom what doing?" and I keep answering: "driving" until we reach our destination. I ask him back, and he says "driving".

The other day Noah asked me for a "popskok" (popsicle). I gave him one (we freeze juice into ice cube trays) and he ate it and asked for another. I usually don't give him two, but I thought "why not" and told him to sit down and I would bring it to him. I got the popsicle and walked across the room to deliver it, while Noah watched me. He got a huge smile on his face and did his borderline psycho laugh that he does usually when someone gives him something sweet to eat, and said: "Happy!" I almost cried because my little child knows what it means to be happy.

He started calling me "Mommy".
My baby is growing up!

My Nightmare

The other night I had a very vivid dream that still makes me shudder thinking about it.
In the dream, I was nervous because for the first time, I was going out in public alone with the two boys. I put Noah in a little umbrella stroller and I left Jake buckled into his car seat. I tried to lug them both around, but pushing the stroller while carrying the carseat was impossible. So every few steps, I had to set Jake down on the pavement, push the stroller a few yards, and then leave the stroller and go back to get Jake. It was an exhausting process. Not to mention dangerous, because we were surrounded by crowds of strangers and to get to where we were going, we had to cross busy streets. Each time I left one of the boys to get the other, I was nervous something horrible would happen. Sure enough, at one point, I went back to get the carseat, and Jake was missing. Panic set in and I started crying and running around campus frantically. I went to the police station, and when I walked in, I saw a lady holding Jake. I felt so relieved. But the police wouldn't let me have him, they told me I had to go to the Division of Child and Family Services. I knew from my Social Work background, this was a bad sign. When I walked into the office, the worker told me that this was obviously a case of child neglect. She told me the Child Protective Services would have to do an exhaustive investigation, with interviews and background checks and "it would be months before I got my child back, IF I got my child back". I started sobbing and I got down on my knees and pleaded for another chance. After a few minutes of my hysterical pleas for mercy, she instructed me to sign a form, pledging that I would never neglect my child again, and since this was a first time offense, they would give me my baby back. I kept crying, but it was out of relief. I thanked the worker over and over again, still sobbing, and the last thing I said before waking up was "My children are my greatest blessings!"

What a nightmare. It doesn't take a psychotherapist to reveal the interpretation of that dream. I have found that balancing two children can get tricky. Today is Kyle's first day back at work--after our long summer of two full-time parents, I am now alone with the two boys. I'm not going to lie, it is a little scary. And so after that dream, I just don't think the three of us will be venturing out in public any time soon! And when I work up the courage to do it, I'm pretty sure I will be bringing a double stroller.

Our little 3-month-old

Jake deserves his own post. Especially after all the comments I have heard about my poor neglected 2nd child. I want to make it perfectly clear that I love Jacob. To prove it, here are some of the pictures I have taken of him in the last couple of weeks. (and by the way, no I didn't try to be sneaky and change his clothes multiple times in one day to make it look like I take many pictures of him :))

He is a sweet little baby. My favorite thing about him is this one face he makes. Sometimes when I talk to him, he gets the sweetest little smile on his face and then, ever so slightly, he raises his eyebrow. Sometimes both of them, sometimes just one. My explanation doesn't do it justice, and I can't quite capture it in a photograph. It's just one of those things you need to see in real life. If you did, it would melt your heart like it melts mine.

Oh Jake, you are definitely worth photographing!

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.