Just because

No she's not walking, she's just leaning against the couch. All cool 9 month old babies are hanging out by their couch these days.



I just love sequences, don't you?

I missed my calling as a singer in a hair band

Sooooo, yesterday was an interesting day for me, aside from Henry's tonsiladenoidectomy.

In the surgery center I sat watching television while Henry was having Astronaut Dreams.

The news station that was on aired part of a 1976 commercial warning people about the swine flu. Obviously this is the second time there has been a scare. I glanced up from my book long enough to watch it and then re-emmersed myself into Edward and Bella.

Well, on the way home I was listening to one of my favorite stations, a country station, when they played part of a 1976 commercial that went something like this:

"Mary received it from her grandchildren while visiting them in Texas. She then gave it to Michael whom she met on the plane who then gave it to his girlfriend waiting in California who then gave it to 3 more people, etc. etc. etc."

They then announced you could win concert tickets if you knew what they were advertising.

I quickly dialed the number thinking I would never get through. Well it rang for a few moments and then I heard:

"KMPS with Ichabod and the waking crew, what was this 1976 commercial an advertisement for?"

I very excitedly answered "The Swine Flu!!!"

"Yes!!" they answered. "You have won a pair of tickets to go see Bret Michaels at the Emerald Queen Casino!"

My giddiness over winning kept me from saying what I really thought of this, so I just said "thank you!"

"Just make sure you don't get on the tour bus!" Ha ha ha, they said.

"I'll make sure to avoid it" I answered. Click. Music Playing.

Then some nice lady came on and got my info. I never thought to ask her why in the world a country station would be giving away Bret Michael's tickets.

Not sure who he is?

Remember the 80's band Poison? Well he was their lead singer.




Jealous you can't go with me?

Update

Henry is home and doing well. I think he is still unsure of what's going on or what happened to him. But for now he is ready to sleep and do nothing but lay on the couch.

And I didn't even cry. Probably cuz he didn't cry when they carried him off. He was too excited about his tiger hospital gown.

When he woke up he was not happy, just dizzy, confused, feeling funny.

But I kissed him, patted his little head, tummy, legs, feet, held his hands, kissed his fingers.

I was told his adenoids were so big they were completely blocking his nose, and his tonsils were gi-normous.

So if nothing else, he will breathe easier and not snore.

I love my little man, so much.

Henry goes for surgery today.

Say a little prayer for my boy?

Will you?

And for me, his paranoid, overly anxious mother?

Thank you.

I love you all.

B is for Birds

I received something in the mail yesterday.

Something amazing, stupendous, magnificent, glorious, something so loverly and whimsical that it almost made me cry.

I received these beauties.

One of my bestest, dearest friends, made these for Nora. They will soon be in perpetual flight when they joing the yarn balls in hanging above Nora's crib.

My big eyed, blue eyed baby will be able to stare at these sweet, tweeting birds and blissfully drift off into dreamland.

I hope to have as much talent in my whole body as the maker of these birds, Teresa, has in her little pinky.

She gives a great tutorial, here, on how to make them.

Lucky for me, I didn't have to make any, because, well she loves me and made some for me.

But if you feel your creative juices are ready for something different, then this is the project for you.

I have come to have an appreciation for birds, except for crows-they just eat my garbage and toss it into the street.

Here's why I like birds, except for crows, cuz they're loud.

Birds.........

....remind me to spread my wings so that when the right wind comes along, I will fly.

....remind me that there is always something to sing about.

....remind me that feathering my nest brings great joy and contentment.

....remind me that there are many beautiful varieties in life, except for crows.(I'm really sorry, I just don't like crows. Did I mention that?)

Happy Weekend

Choices

I have made a bazillion choices throughout my life.

Some good, some not so good.

This morning I made the choice to eat bread and jam. That was good.

Yesterday I made the choice to read all day instead of clean. That was not good.

13 years ago I made the choice to be married and to one day welcome children into my awaiting womb.

And welcome them I did.

I threw up, a lot. I ached, a lot. I cried, a lot. My body is not the same.

But I am thrilled with my choice. Everyday there is something to find joy in.

But besides carrying them, baring them, and giving them the basic needs essential for life, I feel that I signed up for much, much more.

I made the choice to teach my children about their Savior Jesus Christ. Not just in word, but in deed, action, example.

Sometimes I feel like we're succeeding, sometimes I'm pretty sure the only way my children are listening is if they hear the words treat, or candy.

But I take what I do very seriously. As nice as it would be if it were otherwise, I am hugely responsible for how they turn out. Every choice I make in not only mothering them but in my own life will affect them. It will.

Which is both good and bad obviously. For one thing it means I cannot devour chocolate cake for breakfast without letting them do it too.

But I will gladly continue with this mantle of responsibility. I will revel in the moments where my oldest tells us about her knowledge that Jesus Christ lives and that she knows He died for her.

I will cry with joy when my second child doesn't give up and is rewarded for her efforts.

I will laugh when my first son dances with glee to Barbie music.

I will be grateful for my 4th child who reminds me where she gets her sassiness. (me, in case you didn't know)

I will feel absolutely gleeful watching my second son do his kung fu moves.

And I will be reminded once again of the joy of motherhood as I hold my 9 month old baby in my arms, as she plays with my mouth, sucks her own fingers, or nuzzles in for some mother's milk.

I have made choices, and fortunately for me, I get to live with them.

Doctor says so

Mr. Man is tired. He is always tired it seems. But now I know that there is a reason.

Today I took Henry to a special Doctor that could help decipher the oh-so sadness of his cheeks.

They are always red and raw and look awfully itchy. Combine that with overly stinky poo and a constant runny nose and I was highly suspicious that this little Man had something going on.

I relayed my fears and overall assumptions and misgivings about his health to the Doctor.

She checked him out, looked at his cheeks, looked at the halo around his head where hair doesn't really grow (she had NO IDEA what that was about), then she had him say "Ah" and she exclaimed "Those are some BIG tonsils, does he snore?"

Why yes he does. But not your regular sawing logs type snoring, more of a "snort, snort, no breathing, snort, snort".

Little Man has sleep apnea.

So out come the tonsils, out come the adnoids. And while he is dreaming Astronaut dreams based on the Astronaut gas they will give him, they will also draw his blood to check for allergies. Condense all the uncomfortableness into one event, you see.

Perhaps when this is all done we will have answers about the state of his cheeks, bum and facial.

But Doctor said this should help him sleep better at night so that he won't be falling asleep on the couch every afternoon.

We shall see.

So now important questions like, what kind of ice cream will he want and will there be room enough in his bed for us to recover together, him physically, me emotionally?

More decore

What do you do when every wall in your house starts out this color?



You start painting, that's what. And pretty soon you go wild with the colors and you decide that dinner mint green must adorn the walls of at least one child's room.






Brown is down.

Mint green is on the scene.

It's more than sand in your shorts

Our family loves the beach. I mean, really, we LOVE the beach.

We go in the winter, we go in the summer, spring and fall.

If there is a beach in reasonable driving distance, we are there.

So when this past week we had some pretty nice weather, I packed the kids up and headed to what would be considered a beach in Washington state.

It was Nora's first experience with sand.

At first we kept her in the front pack.



I didn't want her to get dirty. Silly as a mom of 6, I know. But I like her all sweet smelling and baby fresh. Can you blame me?

Pretty soon though, her incessant crying and staring at the sandy beach caused me to set the poor child free.


But I knew that soon, just running her fingers through the sand would not suffice. That eventually her overwhelming desire to TASTE the sand (as well as any random stick or piece of garbage) would win out.



Can you hear her little mind going?
"Ahhhhh, yummy."



And just cuz I know you want to know, were you aware that if you allow your baby to eat sand, that the sand will not digest, but come out exactly as it went in?

Just something to think about.

Of course, everyone else enjoyed the day as well. Albeit, WITHOUT having to eat any sand.




And just so you know, I did not save this picture of Henry for last even though he is the cutest 2 year old ever to walk the planet, this is the just the order they uploaded in.
He is not my favorite.
You can't prove it.
I refuse to acknowledge such a thought on the basis that my obvious soft spot for my children as two year old's would cause other's to assume that the child who is currently two is my favorite child.
Which Henry is not.
Like I said, you can't prove anything.

Just enjoy the picture of my not favorite child.
(Isn't he soooo cute?)

THE END

P.S.

Tomorrow I will unveil Henry and Nora's newly painted and decorated bedroom.

Can't wait? Me neither.

Seriously, the end.

Henry-isms

Henry is a smart, talented little guy.

He can do many things well and he is entertaining on a number of levels.

Some things however, are taking a little longer.

His speech for instance is straggling behind.

We have worked very hard to interpret what he is saying.

Here are a few things we have figured out.

Hoo hoo: horse

Dat hi-ya: sword

Lao: water

Be-bo: blanket

Did any of your kids have particularly strange words for things? Please tell me my son is not the only one.

Coye Lee Kraai
January 8, 1922-April 12, 2009




Yesterday was a beautiful day.

It was Easter Sunday. A day to celebrate and teach our children about the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

It was also the day that Jeff's grandmother, Coye Lee Kraai, went home to her Heavenly Father.

She was a great woman. Now I know that people always say that about someone who has passed away. But it is really true. She was honest, she was forthright, she was faithful. She was good to all of us, supportive and loving, proud of who we are.

Lee was the first person in Jeff's family to become a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints some 55 years ago.

She was the pioneer in his family. She raised two daughters in the gospel, they were both sealed in the Temple to their spouses and between them they made Lee a grandmother of 7, and a great grandmother of 17. Four of those grandchildren served missions for our church and because of that service, countless others have learned about the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Her life showed that one person can make a tremendous difference in the lives of countless others. That one decision can have a positive impact on a person's posterity.

The last 10 plus years, Lee endured many physical trials. Her mind was sharp, but her body had done all it could in this life.

So while we are sad for ourselves, we are so happy for her. She has gone on to be with her Savior, to be with her husband who passed 13 years before her.

It's strange to think she that she really has gone. I guess we all just thought she would go on living forever. And I guess, really, she has. She has only passed from this mortal existence but she still lives on.

And I'm grateful to have known her. I'm grateful for the choice she made that brought the Gospel to her family, which in turn brought Jeff to me. Her legacy lives on through my children. We hope to make her proud, to have her be one of those waiting with open arms for us when it is our turn. We love you G.G.

No can find and that's ok

I have some great pictures ready to go of our little venture to the beach this week.

The kids are on spring break and so we have been trying to do fun and wonderful things.

Alas, though, someone short has absconded with the little do-hicky that lets my camera hook to the computer and download loverly photos of sun, sand, and beautiful children enjoying the water.

So, for now, I will continue to take pictures, think of highly clever things to blog about, but for the most part just enjoy my children for the last few days of their spring break.

Have a great week.

Until Monday.

Jeff's Surprise

So I was unable to take any before pictures of the office, simply because Jeff had the camera with him in Utah. But I did find a random picture that at least gives you a little hint at the starkness and all together blah-ness of the office.

But to paint more of a mental picture for you, the office was mostly a dumping ground for things that had no other home. Extra desk, extra bookshelves. It also became a place where no one, myself included, really made an effort to keep it organized. It was too full of non-essential office stuff.

There were no pictures on the Diverse Beige walls, no true organization, no spark to the room.

And being that every other room in the house is more or less mine, I decided that my Jeffy, my husband and best friend, he who brings home the bacon, he who does so much for us, deserved his own room.

And for my husband, nothing could be better than a room inspired by the other great love of his life, classic cars.

When we lived in Rhode Island, Jeff owned a 1957 Plymouth Savoy. Color was silver with blue flames. It. was. AWESOME.

Alas, we had to sell Buddy, our fashion car (that's what the kids called it) so that we could have money to move across the country to go back to school.

But the memories are fond. So with blown up pictures of Buddy, bumpers and one tail light from a 1957 Plymouth, I set out to create something astounding.

And with the help of my brother Keno and his lovely wife Amy, the room was transformed.

Hanging of bumpers courtesy of Keno Granger

.
Flames courtesy of Amy Granger. Mad Craigslist skills that found that tail light, courtesy of Don Allen.
Our old desk painted silver
A map of Brazil and a cross stitch of Jeff's mission (courtesy of Bonnie Granger)

And I still have a little corner to myself for any future scrapbooking efforts.

It's really even better in person. But my camera is pretty low tech.

Anyway, this effort involved a lot of late nights, but the look on Jeff's face when he got home was worth every bit of it. Shock, awe, thrilled, ecstatic, all describe his reaction.

I love you Jeff.

surprise

I am working on a surprise for Jeff.

Jeff and Julia are in Utah right now and will be back on Saturday. Which I guess is technically tomorrow since I'm up so late.

So this is all the post you get because I have a ton to do. But I will post pictures of the surprise next week.

Until then, please try and give this photo a name.


The most creative, make me laugh or good cry will win my utmost respect.
I'm short on big budget for a giveaway, but big on love.

Later

Enough already

This has to stop.


Really.

I'm putting a stop to it.

I'm getting close to almost telling Anne Marie that she may indeed have to possibly stop dressing Henry in girl's clothes.

Except that he's so cute in them.

And doesn't he look happy?

Wait...stop it, it's not right.

But oh how the pink brings out his lovely complexion and the hues in his reddish blonde hair.

Enough already!

He's a boy, not a doll.

Hey, he's a boy doll.

That's it, that's why she does it.

Anne Marie has her own personal living, breathing boy doll.

Poor kid.

But this...


This does not have to stop.

Chocolate cake on the face of my little dolly only makes her more delicious.

Yum yum.

Enlightenment

I have been reading a fantabulous book called Seeing with an Eye of Faith by Grant Von Harrison, a follow up to Drawing on the Powers of Heaven. (Thanks to my husband who has such a good variety of faith promoting books in his personal collection)

In this book he discusses how you can know your true self by examining the thoughts you think and how you spend your free time, (I'm thinking I'm in big trouble with this one) to name a few.

He states that we will be judged as much by our conversations as by our conduct.
That humour filled with sarcasm and sexual innuendo has no place among those who desire to be closer to God.

So my goals are going to be:

Erase sarcasm (or humour at another's expense,take your pick)as a form of humour.
Keep both my thoughts and my conversations in a state where I would be
comfortable with the Savior there.

I want my true self to be someone I'm proud of, not someone I hide from the world.

Just something to think about.