A few (religious) questions

Remember the whole "teach them correct principles and the govern themselves" thing?  I'm wondering how to govern myself.

1. Sleeveless shirts. In general I think it's silly not to put sleeveless shirts on baby girls (it's pretty white trash on boys).  Seriously, they're babies.  If it's ok to run around naked, then shouldn't putting a shirt, any shirt, be a step up?  But I've been noticing lately that I'm the only one of my LDS friends to not put a t-shirt under my baby girl's sleeveless items.  My plan was to phase out sleeveless stuff as Alice aged.  I have always appreciated that my mom let me pick when to stop wearing sleeveless shirts.  I was in fifth grade.  I distinctly remember the day I decided I was old enough that that type of clothing was no longer appropriate for me (and I used that exact language in my very mature 5th grade head).  As such I never resented my parents for forcing me to dress modestly.  I'm sure I complained, but I always knew in the end it was my choice.  I want Alice to likewise use her own agency to dress modestly.  But maybe with the more wicked turn the world has taken in my 26 years, that's not a luxury I can afford anymore.  Maybe I should stick a onies under her sleeveless dresses. (And as a side note for Evan, I do worry a bit about her skin and skin cancer...but only a bit).

2. Sleeping arrangements.  Greg and I both have siblings who have left the Church and have chosen to live with a significant other before marriage.  One visited us this week...well they aren't living together but you get my drift.  I provided separate beds in separate rooms.  They were very courteous and didn't say anything or even roll their eyes.  I was a bit embarrassed.  They are both over 30.  This week turned out just fine.  But what if they never get married.  What do you when a couple lives together unmarried for 10 years?  Make them sleep in separate beds at your house?  What if they have children?  Where's the line?  Is there a line?  Or is it just--get married?

Seriously though, what do you think?  Help me govern myself.

Things I hate

A few weeks ago, my friend wrote this post about things that bug her.  At the end she asked what the readers' pet peeves were.  Being such an important question, I've spent the last few weeks thinking about it. So what things bug me: 1. Wet hair.  I hate having wet hair.  I hate the soggy feeling it leaves behind my ears and on my net.  I hate the way it sticks to my forehead.  I hate it.  2. Open toilet seats.  It's like an invitation for a kid to play in.  Or for whatever nasty little creature (I flush more insects than body by-products down our toilet) to climb back up. 3. Spring.

I hate spring.  Fact: it is the worst season ever.  There is very little redeeming about spring, especially here where there is no winter. We have been in a perpetual state of spring for 8 months.  In Utah, or other areas that have winter, spring is a relief from the cold.  But it's not cold here.  Spring is a constant mockery of my desire for summer.  My need to be in the sun.  My love of parks. My freedom that only summer brings.  But spring mocks all that.  It's warm one day, cold the next, sunny but cold, cloudy but warm.  Hot and cold.  Hot and cold.  It's like a bad Katy Perry song.  I can't plan anything because I never know what the next day will bring.  During the summer I know: play outside.  During the winter (in states that are not North Carolina): play inside.  During the spring: only God can tell, and even at that, I wonder if He knows.  And this nonsense has been going on since we moved here.  I don't know who came up with the idea of seasons, but he (all bad ideas come from men) didn't live in the South.  There are two seasons here: sprall and hell.  Sprall being the irritating 8 months of mocking and uncertainty we are still in.  Hell is the oppressive heat and humidity that slowly melts human flesh and pushes it into the earth for 3 months.  But at least then I know what to expect every morning and know how to dress my children.

And now for some pictures.  We did plan to go strawberry picking a week or so ago.  It was a bit cold so nobody wanted to go with us.  I refused to once again be rebuffed by my nemesis spring so we went anyway.  And it wasn't even cold.  It was just not oppressively hot.  We/I picked 11 pounds.  Eight of which Greg made into jam; 3 of which Rex refused to share and is now either running through the sewer system or in my freezer.

He actually picked some.

Alice rode in my front pouch.  She was not super thrilled but did ok.

And obviously, there was a lot of this.

*To be fair, I also disliked spring in Provo.  Like a lot.

(Secular) Easter

Easter ranks up there as one of my favorite holidays.  It has both religious and historical significant and it matters if one year I decide not to celebrate--what you don't love Jesus enough to celebrate the most significant act of pure love to ever take place? Of course, that doesn't make a lot of money.  If we really wanted to worship Christ, we don't do it with strange bunnies that lay eggs.  But strange, egg-laying bunnies are pretty fun too.  This year I really wanted to make Easter special--I didn't want it to be another Sunday.  I wanted it to stand out, to be extra worship-y.  I tried last year, but my effort fell short.  This year I used a little book called A Christ Center Easter.  The authors suggested that all the bunny and egg stuff be done on the first day of spring as a way to celebrate spring and completely segregate it from the Atonement and Resurrection.  I missed the boat on the first day of spring, so we did the bunny stuff on Saturday.  

The Easter Bunny came Friday night and filled all our baskets.

But he hid Rex's.  Rex had a hard time finding it even though the Easter Bunny left a little egg trail.  (Rex gathered up all the eggs without realizing it was a trail).

That night we had some friends over for an egg hunt and what was supposed to be a simple dinner, but I was hungry when I went to the grocery store so...my new goal in life is to have dinner ready, the table set, and the pre-dinner dishes done before my guests come over.

 Then we dyed eggs.

 On Sunday, we got all dressed up for church--because we usually just go naked.  My mom made Alice's adorable dress with a matching hat, but guess who has a fat head?

Seriously though, how did my kids get so cute?  (Rex says he came from Old MacDonald's and that's how he got so cute).

My smart boy

I may need to revise my previous comments about TV.  While I still maintain that actual human interaction is better than screen time 99.9% of the time and that most educational children's program is just irritating and not in the least educational, I think Rex has picked up on a few things from TV.  Like the alphabet.  When I practice with him, we practice with the sounds instead of the names for letters, but he now sings the alphabet song.  Notice, however, that the tune is the one from Super Why, not the usual one.  I still limit his screen time to two hours or less a day, but maybe, just maybe, he's learned a thing or two from Super Why.  But Super Why is still irritating.

I'm throwing in this second video just to show you how cute my kids are.

Musical Beds

I understand that most people with small children struggle with bed time.  I remember fighting with my parents that Dustin got to stay up an extra half an hour--how unfair.  I remember sleeping in my parents' bed after we moved to Tracy so I was at least ten years old.  I get it: Kids suck at sleeping.  But mine take it to a whole new level.  And by mine, I mean Rex.  How do I know he's worse than most kids?  How many kids do you know who are greeted with, "And where are you sleeping now Rex?" every time they see their grandpa?  Just Rex.  

That's what I thought.

The trouble all started when we moved.  Rex was in and out of bed ten times before he'd finally fall asleep climbing out of bed.  It got worse when Alice was born.  And even worse when we moved her into her crib in Rex's room.  That's when Rex moved into the tent.  He slept in the tent in the dining room/bike room for a solid two months.  Then there was a storm while he slept in the tent and he refused to sleep in it anymore.  (Besides, I knew he was getting a basketball standard for his birthday so the tent had to come down so he'd have room to play basketball.)  When the tent came down, Rex still refused to sleep in his room.  He slept on a cot next to Daddy for another full month.  Finally, last week, Greg bribed Rex back into his room. But Rex still refused to sleep on his bed.  He slept on his cot, next to his bed in his room.  However, along with getting a brand new pack of pink gum, Rex also insisted that Alice no longer sleep in his room if he was to sleep in there.  So Alice got booted to a pack-an-play in Grandma's room.  This lasted for one night.  

Alice is still in the pack-n-play, but Rex only falls asleep in his bed/cot.

Here's how a typical night goes for us: 

7:45 pm: Begin bedtime routine--jammies, brush teeth, scriptures, prayer, hugs, kisses, cuddle, cuddle, cuddle,  nurse Alice, nurse Alice, nurse Alice, put Alice in bed, start doing dishes, take Rex back to his bed, do two more dishes, take Rex back to his bed, do three dishes, threaten Rex to within an inch of his life, cuddle, cuddle, cuddle, Rex is finally asleep (9:30 pm).

11:00 pm: go to bed

2:00 am: Rex gets in our bed.

2:15 am: Rex begins poking me in the face and informing me that he is thirsty until I finally break down and get him more milk.

2:30 am: Alice wakes up.  Fed Alice, put her back to bed.

3:00 am: Return to my bed to see that Rex has so kindly waited for me to cuddle him before falling back to sleep.

3:30 am: Here's where we mix things up a bit: sometimes Rex will actually fall asleep at this point, others he insists that we go back to his bed, where he'll take another 45 minutes to fall asleep.  The last two nights he's gone with option 1.

5:00 am: Alice wakes up.  Get Alice, put her in Rex's bed.  Fed Alice while attempting to sleep on Rex's plastic sheets.

7:00 am: Wake up to tiny baby claws in your eyes and be thankful that at least you got some sleep.

And that, my friend, is how you play Extreme Musical Beds.

Rex's birthweek

This picture overload is for you Hannah.  And for Leigh, I like Rex's birthday, if that counts as a holiday.

My little boy is three now, but if you ask me, I'll probably say two.  Three just seems to old.  I haven't gotten used to it yet.  In fact, for a while, Rex refused to turn three.  He wanted to stay two so he could be my baby forever.  I told him that he will always be my baby.  But that didn't convince him.  I told him he only gets to open his presents if he turns three.  He agreed.  Now every time he sees a three, he says, "Look a three.  Just like how old I am."  He's pretty into being three.

Well, Rex's birthday lasts about a week at out house.  First we had the small family party on his birthday.  I made rainbow cupcakes and we opened presents.

He got a basketball standard.  We're trying to improve his large motor skills.

Alice got Rex a Mater car to match his Lightening McQueen.  Rex was pretty stoked.

 That weekend we attempted to camp.  Because it was supposed to rain and Greg couldn't get off as early as he'd hoped, we didn't want to risk driving somewhere, paying $30 and setting up camp just to have to turn around and come home, so we set up camp in the back field.  It took Greg a full hour to get the tent up and we had just started roasting hot dogs for dinner when the rain started.  Rex is terrified of storms, so we put all the gear in the tent and then headed inside to finish our dinner.

Alice took a nap while we set up camp.

Rex declared he was ready for bed around 7 and got in his sleeping bag, and then proceeded to pee it in when he heard the first thunder.

We felt bad that Rex didn't get his camping trip, so the next day we took him to a children's museum about 40 minutes away.  Rex had a ton of fun.  He cried when we left and then fell asleep on the way home.

The next day we had a big family party with all of Greg's North Carolina family--my one piece of North Carolina family lives too far away to come for just a dinner.  It was a bit chaotic so I didn't take any pictures.  But Rex had a great time playing with his cousins.