Christmas Miracles Can Happen . . .

My top-ten list of Least Favorite Experiences would probably start something like this:
1. Gettting cold & wet.
2. Getting sandy and wet (although this one might go first . . . ).
3. Having family pictures taken.

We haven't had an actual family picture photo session (aside from mandatory Family Reunion pictures) since Lydia was 18 months old.  Getting five kids and two adults color-coordinated, cute, freshly-pressed, and there to wherever you're shooting (how ironic that it's called a photo "shoot"--I'm usually wishing someone would shoot me before it's over . . .) is not my idea of a good time.  Also, trying to schedule anything with my busy husband is "pret-near" impossible, as Mom would say.  However, I grudgingly understand the principle behind family pictures--they're a special treasure for grandparents and posterity.  So when Seth told me he had arranged a family picture session (which completely shocked me) with a seminary student/photographer, I realized it was now or never.

And it was painless!  Aside from Gabriel falling asleep in his clothes and wetting the bed in them just minutes before we had to be there, it was really quite easy.  The cute girl who took our pictures was happy and fun, and the kids loved all the attention.  And here you have the result--enjoy it now, because it may never happen again.

Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Too Big

 Yes, I realize we just had Thanksgiving and that I'm a month late on this post . . . But for posterity's sake I decided to go ahead and post these.  My kids were incredibly excited for Halloween.  We live in a fantastic neighborhood for safe trick-or-treating, and this year we added a trunk-or-treat to the festivities.  

Don't worry about Evie's knee . . . she survives a lot of love around here. :)

Evie was a lady bug and Eleni was a witch-in-borrowed-robes.

 Gabe was a makeshift Jedi of sorts--he said he was Darth Maul before he turned bad and had his face turned red and black and scary.

 Jacob says, "It was fun at school; in the parade it was fun how I could see everybody's costumes.  We had a party with a lot of fun activities.  I was a karate guy."  Jacob, the best sport of the bunch, made do with my friend's 10-year-old son's jiu-jitsu robe and some baseball pants.  Benjamin Franklin the karate dude. . . .

Lydia made a lovely Hawaiian girl, courtesy of this lava lava from her Uncle Brian's mission to Vanuatu.

A good time was had by all.

All About Evie

Evie told me it was about time I did a post of her and her only--after all, she is the new baby around here.  And she has grown up quite a bit since last time we spotlighted her.

 She learned (just last week, in fact) to sit up and started to crawl on the same day.

 She is now eight months old and starting to have her own little personality--she just picked up growling a couple of days ago.

 This is her watching her big sister, Lydia, walk around the room . . .

A few of Evie's favorite things:

Mom

 Mom

her "love fingers," which you can't quite see in this picture (Gabe calls it "sucking on 'I Love You,'" because she sucks on her middle and ring finger, while the rest of them spell "I love you" in sign language)

 Momma

 Mommy

Mother

 You think I'm kidding, don't you?  I have never had a child quite so attached as this little dolly!  She absolutely loves me, is content all day as long as I'm carrying her around, and cries inconsolably if I leave the room.  After a screaming fit, all I have to do is pick her up and she's completely happy again.  If I'm sitting close by teaching piano, she's fine.  If she's playing on the floor and can touch me with her feet, she's fine.  If I give her to Daddy, nice friends in church, or one of the kids, she screams bloody murder.  If I sit her on the floor for more than five minutes so I can knead the bread, I end up with a screaming, tear-streaked baby face staring at me.

So rather than get frustrated that I can't get any cleaning done, that my arms are tired, or that I need some space, I've decided to just brag it up--I have a #1 fan!

And how many people can brag about inspiring this kind of smile every time they walk in a room?

Eleni's Vitamin A Deficiency

 The poor thing 

 just can't seem to open her big, beautiful blue eyes for a picture

 any wider than this

no matter how hard she tries.

Especially when I am trying to get her to look at the camera. 

 So I tried taking pictures as she was explaining something to me,

 but it didn't work.

 At all.  She really tries, and the more she tries,

 the worse it gets.  The red-eye light on my camera seems to intensify the problem,

 so I told her to close her eyes and I would tell her when to open them:

TA-DA!  And we lost the smile and passed the closed-eye syndrome on to Gabe.

I Like to Ride My Bicycle--With Daddy

One of our favorite, easiest family activities is to ride our bikes down the church parking lot.  It's on a slight incline, so it's a perfect spot to teach the kids to ride bikes

Seth found this bike and fixed it up for Eleni.  

Craig's List, $20.  

Having this indoor-loving girl ride it around all day--Priceless.

 I'm so glad we have a picture of Gabe on his "motorcycle," because the blue wheels are no more.  Gabe left it underneath Seth's truck, and he backed over it a month or so ago (yes, I am quite slow at posting pictures).  Seth found two old tires (never mind that they were from the neighbor's old princess bike--and yes, he had permission) and replaced them so it's good as new, albeit a touch girly.  Gabe hasn't complained yet, since it still goes "really really fast."

 

Can I just tell you how grateful I am to have a Handyman Negri husband?  He has repaired countless neighborhood bike tires, my washer, dryer, the ottoman that keeps loosing a leg, the dying grass, broken toys, my vacuum that nearly broke from all my long hair, the garbage disposal, the sprinkler system, clogged drains, the sound controls on the computer, you name it.  Seth can fix anything.  He also installed our reverse osmosis system, dishwasher, prunes the trees, keeps track of our finances, keeps the cars clean and in repair, cleans the toilets (when we married, he promised me he'd always do toilets and he's been true to his word!), plants & harvests the garden, teaches full-time seminary, serves on the high council, teaches two online classes, takes the kids on dates, helps me know what to do with them when I'm pulling my hair out, and gives me chances to go to book clubs, girls'-night-out, relief society meetings, etc.  I am so grateful for how much he does for me and for our little family while balancing everything else.  Someday when life slows down and we're rollin' in the dough, he will build me a library for my books and buy me a harp and my life will be complete.  But for now we'll just settle for a peaceful bike ride in the church parking lot.

Laundry Volcano

At the risk of being quite embarrassed by the following picture of myself, I would like to share one of our ideas with you--one that actually worked . . .

With the birth of each child, I have watched our laundry pile grow exponentially.  I dump loads of clean, unfolded laundry on my bed, my reasoning being that I will be more likely to fold it because I need to sleep there at night.  But it doesn't work--we usually end up putting piles around the floor in my room and sleeping amid the towels and shirts.  One day I hauled the loads out into the living room and hollered for the kids to gather to play "Laundry Volcano" (I am a firm believer in Mary Poppins' philosophy that if you name a job something fun, it seems more fun . . . ).

How to play Laundry Volcano, as described by my kids:
1. Get lots of laundry.
2. Choose where people's piles go. It helps to put something of theirs in each spot.
3. Choose a person to throw the laundry (it's usually Mommy because she's the tallest).
4. The Volcano Person (i.e. Mommy) throws the laundry up into the sky.  It's the lava.
5. The kids catch the lava and put it in whose ever pile it goes. It helps if Mommy throws it high and you grab it out of the air.
6. At the end is folding. Everybody folds their own pile. (Gabe folds no pile--he helps fold the washcloths)
7. Put away your own laundry as fast as you can.
8. Mommy folds the extra stuff.

Sleepin' on the Job

 Sometimes all you want to do on a hot summer day is . . . 

 Funny--this was a while back, but the same thing happened again today.

Probably the result of a hot day at the park.

Look at Gabe's right foot!  Do you remember when it was like this?  I think we have been so blessed--he can run and jump and do everything like the other kids.  It's miraculous.