Anne with an 'e'

Love Month + an Invitation

2012-02-01T11:45:00.006-08:00

Goodbye dreary, gray, everyone-in-my-family-was-sick January. Hello, February!

Did you know that I host a Valentine's Day celebration every year at the blue house? It's maybe my favorite annual tradition. (See my past parties here: 2011, 2010, 2009) This annual party was inspired by my darling friend, Cookie (see here and here).

This year, I really want to include everyone I can. So here's the deal. Do you live locally? Do you want to come party with us on Friday, February 10th, at 6:30 pm? We would love you to come. It's quite casual--an open house, really. Just sweets and playing and chatting.

I know it seems silly to post this invite on the blog, and I don't want anyone to feel not special for not getting a phone call or something. But I'm terribly afraid of forgetting someone or anyone feeling left out. If you'd like to come, please leave a comment or send me an email (amcropperATgmailDOTcom) so I can make sure to bake enough goodies! And, if you're not local, want to make a trip to Valentine's Day Mecca (AKA the blue house)? You're invited, too! (After all, my awesome sister-cousin, Christina brought her whole family to my party last year--all the way from Seattle. I felt so special. Granted, they happened to be on their way to Disneyland...)

Happy Love Month!

XOXOXO

anne

Some day we will all be healthy

2012-01-31T16:44:00.001-08:00

Blaine hasn't moved much from my desk today. Last night he (my son with a steel gut and the most amazing immune system known to man) hopped into bed with his usual menagerie (literally 20 animals), pulled up his covers, and suddenly barfed his guts out.

So I'm ok with an entire day of screen time. Quite frankly, I think if you have just had to deal with regurgitated jambalaya in you ears and eyelashes, you deserve the moon.

Off to rotate the laundry,
Anne

Penguin Party--mostly a bust

2012-01-28T22:46:00.003-08:00

You may or may not know about me--

I live from event to event. I am all about holidays and celebrations and whatever other soirees I choose to invent. Events give me motivation. They make life magical for my boys. They make it so there is always something to look forward to.

So the end of December, as I was gearing up for a long, gray January (I historically loathe January), I decided I'd host a 'late night' Penguin Party for my kids and their cousins. I'd make penguin cupcakes and we'd watch March of the Penguins. (Blaine was thrilled. "I am SO into animal migrations, Mom!") I thought it the surefire cure to a dreary month.

So yesterday I spent all afternoon painstakingly putting together these cupcakes based on instructions from this book. I think they turned out cute, but they were insanely hard and time consuming!

When the children arrived we ate pizza and started the movie. This is where things started to go downhill. That many kids trying to watch a documentary? Forget about it. I had to go up to the playroom repeatedly (at the request of those attempting to watch) to tell the loud kids "Hey! This is a movie party! Now you will watch this movie and you will like it!" Apparently I should have gone with Happy Feet.

Bust number two was the cupcakes themselves. The black gel paste required to make black frosting had a wicked aftertaste, so most of the kids were wiping it off on paper towels. We had 11 kids with black lips, black hands, black tongues. {And no one really even liked them!!}

In planning the party ages ago, I'd pinned a possible cupcake alternative. Not nearly as elaborate, but still cute. By the time we had black frosting all over kingdom come and kids complaining about the gross taste, I was really kicking myself for not choosing the simpler ones. SIMPLER IS ALWAYS BETTER!

Well anyway, I think the kids had fun playing air hockey and building car tracks and eating cheese pizza, so not a total loss. But I definitely felt deflated.

Win some, lose some.

Wednesday morning

2012-01-25T11:36:00.001-08:00

We drove up to the blue house around 10:00 last night after a long, rainy, windy drive home from the coast. Don't worry, Roger got the flu an hour before we left, so he threw up about 9 times on the way home. By the end it was just him and his sallow little face, wearing only undies, clutching his Sierra Mist, finding solace in the distraction of scholastic DVDs. I got to hold the barf bucket, dumping it out the window intermittently. Awesome.

I let Blaine sleep in until 10 am and kept him home from school. When I was a teacher I would have though that was lame. But now I'm a mom and, didn't you hear? Mother knows best.

Now, at 11:26, I'm in bed in my awesome gray sweats, reading the Book of Mormon on my phone (which luxury I adore), wondering if i could pull off red lipstick, hoping Mitt can pull it out, and watching my boys. The olders are playing poussin rouge, the coolest website ever. The babe is rolling and crawling around on the floor with a mechanical pencil and eating from the pile of cheerios I dumped on the ground for him.

My life is so glam ;)

Gung hay fat choy!!!

2012-01-22T16:21:00.002-08:00

Happy Year of the Dragon everyone!

Happy Birthday, Monkey!

2012-01-21T14:52:00.003-08:00

When Blaine arrived home from school Thursday he asked, "Mom, can you make some banana bread?"

"Not today," I replied.

Then, in an angry, oppressed, you-are-a-terrible-person tone of voice he yelled back, "WHAT?! But it's monkey's birthday!!!!"

Like every one should have known that.

"Oh," I said, surprised. "You didn't tell me it was his birthday."

"Well it is!"

"OK then, we'd better make him some banana bread!"

We spent the rest of the afternoon in party preparations. Thankfully, monkey had a long nap so we were able to keep it a surprise. The boys wrapped up several presents all by themselves (some books and a banana, of course). I worked on the bread and party hats.

It was one of the best afternoons I can remember.

Behold: Monk's birthday party...

Peekaboo

2012-01-20T15:01:00.002-08:00

Where's Carter?

Read this.

2012-01-20T09:07:00.003-08:00

Here is one of the best articles I've ever read. She puts so beautifully (and wittily) into words so many of the feelings and thoughts every mother has. Seriously, take 5 minutes and read it. I was laughing my head off one minute and crying the next.

anne

Crazy hair day

2012-01-17T08:24:00.001-08:00

'Mom! I want to look like an angry bird!'

What I wore to Church: The Colonel meets Gilligan meets Oompa Loompa

2012-01-15T20:46:00.006-08:00

I wore my favorite outfit to church yesterday. My favorite because I like the combination, but also my favorite because each of the individual items are my favorites.

The skirt is from Shabby Apple and has been a great find. (I did a lot of looking for the right navy pencil skirt.) I love that it is nice and long, really comfy for a high-waisted skirt, and the gold sailor buttons give it a little extra character. Here's something I need to learn to make: pencil skirts.
The blouse I got a few years ago at Down East. I'm crazy for a tie neck blouse. I think it dates back to my sister, Kathryn, rocking them in the early 1980's. Either that or our family's connection to the colonel. (Never heard that bit of my family history? My grandpa was bff with Colonel Sanders and owned a bunch of KFC's back in the day. My mom has a diamond necklace with the Colonel's face on it. My uncle wet the bed on the Colonel. True story.)

These are my favorite pair of colorful tights this year. They're from Forever 21 (who has an astonishing online selection of tights). I've been told I look like an Oompa Loompa in them.

The shoes are my favorite brand, Seychelles. I love Seychelles because their shoes are impeccably made, unique, and ultra comfortable. They are pretty spendy unless you find a good deal on Zappos, which is, in my humble opinion, one of the greatest companies ever.

If I were a really cool blogger I would have taken these pictures with nice outdoor light instead of in my bathroom after dark (Taylor: "What are you doing in there?"), but I missed my daylight window while I was sacked out on my Mother's couch after our family lunch. That nap also accounts for my wrinkly skirt. But you get the idea.

And lest you should think I only care about the clothes I wear to church, tomorrow I'll tell you about an amazing thing that happened yesterday after the Sunday School class I teach.

xo,

anne

Double Proud

2012-01-13T13:47:00.009-08:00

So about a month ago I was standing in Craft Warehouse, looking through their Christmas fabrics and trying to determine how much I needed to make pajama pants for three little boys. {I had to borrow the pattern from a friend, and I didn't have it yet.} As I unrolled the bolts of Dr. Seuss fabric for Rog's pants and found the perfect print from Moda to go on my honey jars, I looked up on the shelf and saw this book:

I had a major moment of happy pride. My friend, Danielle, is published in this book. I had seen it on her blog before but had never actually thumbed through the book before. It was so fun to see her handiwork published! I felt like shouting at the old lady browsing the embroidery thread, "Hey! This is my friend! Look at this! My friend is published!"

About five minutes later, while I was having my fabric cut, a woman came up to me and asked, "Did you make your bag? It's gorgeous!" My heart swelled with pride again as I replied, "Yes, I did!" And here's why: I am not a seamstress. I love fabric. I love the feel, the color, and the endless possibilities. But I am a total novice. My lines are skeewampus, I don't know the proper terminology for most anything, and the projects I normally take on are insanely easy. This bag (which I tackled right before Carter was born) is my pride and joy. It was the first project I've done with a pattern almost by myself (I had help from my friend, Lisa, and my mom and m-i-l!). So, it's kind of like the first time I made real frosting for cupcakes (on Blaine's first birthday). A huge accomplishment and a new world. So after I directed the complimentary woman to the patterns in the store (Amy Butler's birdie sling), I felt like shouting to the old lady looking at embroidery thread once again: "I made this! Did you hear that?! Me! Little ol' me! I did it!"

So now I get to be triple proud. (Don't worry. I messed up on these really badly so it's totally not going to my head.) Here are the pjs I made for the boys. They got to open them up on Christmas Eve. It was so darling watching them race down the stairs, sleepy-eyed on Christmas morning, in their white T's and homemade pants.
Rog got the Grinch because no one loves the Grinch more than Rog.
Blaine and Carts (the twins that they are) got matching sock monkeys.
The best part was how they squealed and jumped and hugged me as they ripped the packages open. To be honest, after all that work, I would have been crushed if they hadn't reacted excitedly (and I may or may not have communicated that to them as I handed them their gifts that night!).

So now I'm ready to shout again, "Hey, embroidery lady, look at me! I made these pants! All by myself!"

I am so outnumbered.

2012-01-09T23:23:00.002-08:00

There are so many more boys than girls in this house! The other day Blaine said, 'Mom, can you get down the Dangerous Book for Boys for me? And then can you please leave my room? It's got secret stuff just for boys.'

Awesome.

I'm predicting all boys. Hopefully they'll turn out as strapping as Mitt's.

Pictured: what it looks like when I go to the mall. And now that I'm feeling sooooo much better, the mall sounds pretty fun. Shall we, Mom?

Friday

2012-01-06T20:39:00.002-08:00

The heavens smiled down on us. By Friday evening I felt really pretty good. And Carter, who'd been barfing, etcetera, was back to normal as well.

We celebrated with Rio and pizza and togetherness.

And then Taylor carried the boys to bed like he does every night.

The hardest thing for me about being sick isn't how I feel physically, but what a nutcase I become as I stress over what I'm not accomplishing. By the end I was able to be calm and say, "I've been forced to slow down, so what should I be reflecting on?" Which is huge progress.

I really appreciate everyone's well wishes. Thanks for being so kind.

On another note, do you read My Sparkle? You should. Danielle is my creative hero. And you should vote for her on Project Run and Play. Wwwwwwoooooowwwwww.

Happy weekend!
anne

Reality

2012-01-04T11:39:00.001-08:00

Thanks for the kind words, friends. You make me want to keep writing.

Here we are today--in the Walmart parking lot. Rog is eating the Nestle Drumstick I just bought him. I thought he deserved it after being dragged around. I was so light headed in there I almost called someone to pick me up. I'm on week 3 of leg aches, headaches, general feverishness, and now light headedness. I've considered the swine flu, cancer, meningitis, lupes, mono, you name it. One thing I have for sure: hypochondria. It's probably a wacky hormone shift or a virus. But don't you worry I just bought a pregnancy test too, because, as stated above, I'm considering pretty much everything.

Now I'll go back to sitting in my disgustingly filthy minivan and watching chocolate ice cream drip down Rog's hands. Here's to keeping it real.
XO,
Anne

Inside my brain and Blogging 2012

2012-01-03T11:36:00.010-08:00

{Family photos, Dec. 2011, 10 minutes on a FREEZING, foggy day! My boys are good to me.}

Happy New Year!

Can you tell that I did most of my blogging last month from my phone? It's just so easy to throw a pic or two on a post while I'm nursing the babe. But I haven't been saying much. And, as it turns out, I have a lot to say.

We had a great December. No matter how much shopping I get done in October, how much planning ahead I do, December always feels like a whirlwind and I'm sad when it's all over. If I can motivate myself this week I'll post some pictures of all the events.

As sad as I get on the 26th of December though, it feels so good by January 1st to take it all down. The house looks so simple and fresh without the decor. I am in the mood to go through every closet and de-clutter. Usually I find January depressing, but I am really excited this year to get more organized and do a bunch of projects.

I've been thinking a lot about blogging. About why we do it, who it's for, if it's real, etc. I used to get sad that Bloom didn't grow more, faster. I thought, "we have so much great content on here, but people care more about 'eye candy' blogs." Not that I cared so much about ad revenue or anything, but I just wanted people to care about the things we were talking about. {This says a lot about my arrogance and pride. Apparently I just think I'm really cool and everyone should hang on my every idea!} I've finally come to a place where I know I want to keep blogging, but I'm happy to just be me, and it's OK if only a few people read it, and I don't need a zillion readers and/or comments to validate me or propel me on. If I feel like posting, I'll post. {I am an overly-analytical person. Can you tell?}

Another aspect of blogging/social networking that I have a hard time with is that we all talk so much about stuff. Heaven's sakes, sometimes Pinterest makes me physically ill because it makes me think so much about things. Don't get me wrong, I love stuff. I love beautiful things that make my home feel cozy and I love doing clever crafts with my children and heaven knows I love pretty cupcakes and clothes and jewelry. But sometimes I feel like there's such a heavy focus of this on blogs, etc. and I feel worried that all of these bright, educated, powerful women are spending way too much time on it all. At least I know I spend too much time thinking about stuff in my own life. And then I think: 'if my house burned down tomorrow none of this crap would matter.' And I think about the darlings recovering from the typhoon in the Philippines and just can't stand all my worldliness. Anyway, like I said, I'm not condemning pretty things. I think a lot of these things we blog about--cute parties, craft projects, etc. can really add to the quality of life and make things feel magical for our children. BUT, when we let ourselves feel dissatisfied by the things we don't have, it really takes away from our happiness.

Which leads me to talk about this:

Lots of us tend to post the good and beautiful in our lives. And I don't have too much a problem with that. I tend not to photograph my life on the days I'm sick on the couch with a pounding headache, watching TV, letting my kids eat candy for breakfast and play on the computer all day (we had a lot of those types of days last week; can't tell if I had a virus or am going through one of my typical, hormonally charged headache months). Nor do I love dwelling on those times. BUT. When we all read blogs/facebook/pinterest and compare our lives to the collective whole of all the bajillion cute women out there who are seemingly perfect, it begins to feel pretty deflating. And it's such a false sense of reality. This is one of the reasons I actually haven't read many blogs lately. I could feel myself feeling dissatisfied with my life. Which is so ridiculous and unhealthy.

So here's the deal. I'm going to try to post a lot in 2012. It makes me happy when I take a minute to share something or reflect on my life. And sometimes it will look really pretty. Like the Valentine's Day party I'm already drumming up. And sometimes I might be really vain and post a picture of my outfit just because I think it's really fun. But I'm also hoping to continue to write true and real reflections of motherhood--something I used to do a lot on Bloom and have gotten out of the habit of. AND. My big, fun blogging plan for 2012 is to do a Blue House Tour. Which will include both shots of my favorite little vignettes that I've worked on and shots of things like my disgusting side yard that looks trashier than you can imagine. I think we'll call it: "The Blue House Tour: Someone Real Lives Here." And. AND. If I can muster up the time, Taylor and I hope to post some on Feed Your Family this year. Because you wouldn't believe how many requests Taylor gets for his recipes. So keep pressuring us and we'll get on it.

So those are my crazy, overly analytical thoughts on blogging and some goals for 2012. I think it will be a good time. :)

Thanks for being my friend,

anne

School in the Philippines starts January 3rd (with our help)

2011-12-29T09:33:00.002-08:00

My husband's parents are on a mission in the Philippines and, since the recent typhoon, are working every day to dig people's lives out of the mud. This photo is from a local school--hit very hard. School is supposed to start on January 3rd, but the classrooms are feet high in mud, and all of their supplies are ruined. Our family has set up a fund for people to donate help. I know I wasn't as charity-minded this Christmas as I wanted to be, so I'm looking forward to contributing, and thought you might be too. Read more about the school and how to help HERE.

anne

Merry Christmas from the blue house!

2011-12-24T14:42:00.001-08:00

Neighbor gifts

2011-12-21T11:21:00.001-08:00

Honey (courtesy of beekeeper brother) + homemade rolls

Happy Hanukkah!

2011-12-20T19:37:00.001-08:00

We're enjoying some fiercely delish latkes as always.

Roger LOVES

2011-12-16T15:35:00.001-08:00

Gingerbread houses at Kindergarten

2011-12-14T15:56:00.001-08:00

'You can lick, Rog, but no biting!'

What would Christmas be without

2011-12-14T15:49:00.001-08:00

a little bit of kitsch?

Wouldn't be Christmas at the blue house without...

2011-12-13T12:13:00.003-08:00

A ramekin of mint m&ms in front of the toaster.

Blaine

2011-12-12T14:48:00.002-08:00

So my kindergartener just tested at a 3rd grade reading level. And if you ask him how he learned?
'I just taught myself.'

Awesome. No credit for my efforts!

Teething, Babies, and Talking to God

2011-12-10T22:54:00.003-08:00

Poor little Carts is teething an entire row of chompers. It has altered his eating habits, including a whole night and day this weekend in which I thought surely he was weaning himself like Blaine did. I was devastated. (Partly out of worry for his nourishment, since he refuses bottles and sippies and partly selfishly, because I just truly love nursing him.)

As I put him down in his crib last night, after he refused his bedtime milk, I leaned over until my face was near his and sang Away in a Manger. I thought about how much I love him and didn't want him to stop nursing and wished he wouldn't grow so fast. I thought how much I love all my sons and how I would love to have more babies. And then I thought how I talk to God every day about wanting a daughter. And I thought, 'I will really feel satisfied and content with sons.' And that feels really good.

Dec 6th

2011-12-07T11:02:00.002-08:00

Happy Birthday to my cute, thoughtful, generous, fun Mom. We celebrated with the best salad and pizza in town (kaleidoscope), plus I made jelly belly cupcakes. If you know my mother at all you know that's more than appropriate because she is a binge jelly belly eater.

Did you know that almost once a week my mom and I find a reason to go to the mall together? Our mall is totally small town and pathetic, but when my mom and I are pushing strollers through, hunting for bargains, and treating the kids at Cookie Connection, it feels alright to me.

XO
anne

What should I add to the list?

2011-12-03T08:16:00.002-08:00

These Days

2011-11-30T20:42:00.002-08:00

{Totally unrelated picture of my yoginis. Shucks that's cute every single time.}

I am decking the halls of the blue house and loving every second of it.

I am mustering up all the will power I have to be a more patient, softer speaking mother.

I am waiting for my new camera lens to arrive in the mail to make all my dreams come true.

I am feeling so relieved that I finished most of my holiday shopping in October.

I am obsessed with Brandon Flowers.

I am rilly rilly super in love with my husband of SEVEN years.

I am still eating meat although a bunch of my longest friends have totally vegged out!

I am putting the final touches on our advent boxes so our December can be amazing.

I am already worried about how hard it will be to wean Carter in 3 months (mostly physically. oh, how that hurts.)

I am loving the Lower Lights Christmas CD.

I am enriched and amazed and humbled every time I visit here.

I am working on a zillion home projects that I can't wait to show you (and I have extensive plans to do so).

I am conquering the daunting task of printing the last 3 years' worth of photos and am in love with Shutterfly.

I am praying for poor little Grandma Tillie to recover from her broken hip and subsequent hip replacement.

I am enjoying my children more. Which is something you can pray for if you need to, by the way. I'm not ashamed to admit that I needed to. And it works.

I am already engaged in my 2012 resolution which is to stay better connected with my beloved.

I am going to smooch my husband now, who just came home from a very long day.

Goodnight.

Oooooooh

2011-11-18T12:37:00.002-08:00

Thanks, Sis, for the idea to find a blogger app.

I have a list of things I want to share. For today: here's the Autumn triptic the boys and I made.

Loving fall and totally already listening to Christmas on pandora,
Anne

Dear world, I miss you. My laptop died. I'll be back soon. You'd think the iPhone would be more conducive to blogging but no luck. Love, me

2011-11-18T10:08:00.002-08:00

Happy Halloween from the Blue House!

2011-10-31T15:32:00.007-07:00

Time to get my beans and rice cooking, gather up the skeleton, cowboy, and monkey's costumes, dig out my purple wig, and ready the trick-or-treat basket (which I may or may not have snitched so much from last night that I made myself ill). I think after circling the neighborhood we better come back for some of Nana's pumpkin-chocolate-chip bread and Mexican hot chocolate...

Happy Halloween!

xo
anne

Back to School

2011-10-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

I'm sad it's taken me so long to record some of the special things we've been doing this fall. Ever since Em and I walked away from Bloom, I feel like I've had a lot more time and energy to focus on actually blooming as a mother and homemaker. More time to make and do quality things and memories for my children. More time to just be with them. But, though my home is cleaner, I am less stressed, and my children are happier, it's been hard to find the time to post about it all. It's true. I can't do it all. It is so freeing to admit that.

After our coast trip, we wanted to start the school year off with something special. I've always loved reading about Stephanie Nielson's Back to School Feast, so we decided to adopt it as a family tradition. (Living so near our extended families, it is really important to Taylor and me that we have some nuclear family traditions).

So, the Sunday before Kindergarten began, we held our First Annual Back to School Feast. Blaine kept saying, "It's my special day."

Taylor made us his ummmmazing Shepherd's pie (I keep begging him to blog about it!) and broccoli.

We had fancy dishes and goblets filled with bubbly.

(Love the red around his lips from the shepherd's pie!)

After dinner the boys hunted for letters that I had printed up (from here).
Blaine put the letters together to spell:
That's the theme for the year. Blaine is miles and miles ahead of where he used to be in terms of this, but it still needs attention.

After our little discussion on the theme for the year, Blaine got to open his presents.

We gave him a little alarm clock and a lap quilt I made him out of fabric he had begged and begged for at the fabric store once. It is garish and gaudy and dragon-tastic. Barf. But, for once, I decided to let him choose.
We finished up the celebration with a father's blessing.

I love this tradition, and I can't wait to have the whole table filled with children, off to conquer another year. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the idea of more children, but most often, I hope to be so lucky to have a whole gaggle to share this life and home with. (I'm not sure how many are in a gaggle, but you get the point.)

Classic first day photo:

Awesome.

Tights at Turquoise Roots

2011-10-26T11:00:00.001-07:00

We are at the height of Autumness around here. There is so much going on that I never feel like I have time to stop and tell you about it. But I really want to! I can't wait to show you pictures of my fall decorations, but I've been busy cleaning up after our caramel apples night. I am ecstatic to show you Roger's skeleton costume I made, but I'm trying to gather up all the other costumes and I'm helping with the church Halloween carnival tonight, and there's still a lot to do! So, while I finish Blaine's ninja costume and shake my polyester dress out of storage, I want you to know that...My darling friend, Deon, has added TIGHTS to her shop! I like to think I was in to colored tights before they were cool (cue eyerolls. Yes, Anne, you're so indie). They're one of the things that make winter fun and bearable. Deon's got tons of selection and the prices are amazing. See it all HERE.

Jared Carter pumpkin eater

2011-10-21T16:15:00.004-07:00

Shucks I love this little boy. Look at him on his first swing ride. Can you see his little teeth?! And here he is eating pureed pumpkin. I mean, heck, we cooked and pureed those pumpkins ourselves last fall, and now all is safely gathered in our little babe's belly. How's that for provident living? ;)

Helping

2011-10-17T11:51:00.003-07:00

Taylor and I made killer Eggplant Parmesan for dinner yesterday. Rog helped. That's the story of Rog. Every day Blaine goes to Kindergarten and Rog doesn't know what to do with himself. He refuses to play with toys, even if I offer to go up to the playroom with him. He just wants to help. He gets baby wipes and dusts the furniture (and everything else he can think of). He runs with a bowl out to the garden and picks tomatoes. He sprays 409 all over the kitchen floor and wipes it with a cloth. He chops celery with a butter knife for the soup I'm making. And on. And on.

It is precious. I love it.

Week at the coast

2011-10-04T11:41:00.005-07:00

We spent the first week of September up North.

Our schedule:
Monday--drive to Portland, swim in hotel pool
Tuesday--Oregon Zoo, Taylor take boys swimming while I shop frantically during final business hours of the day
Wednesday--Return almost everything I bought the night before (never shop with a deadline), drive to Newport, swim in hotel pool
Thursday--Newport Aquarium (definite highlight! amazing, amazing place--way better than the zoo!), beach, swim in hotel pool
Friday--Beach, tidepools, drive home

This was a great family trip. It was a little tough with Carter--there were times when it was just better for me to stay in the car or hotel room with a sleeping or nursing babe (rather than try to sit on sharp rocks at the tidepools with him!), but I was resigned to that. Taylor got to have tons of quality time with the boys. Plus I have an iphone. Hours of entertainment, reading, shopping, and instagram--which I put to good use on the trip:

Rog at the tidepools near Yachats.

Blaine with some of his ocean treasures

One of many meals out. Even with all the 'sights' we saw, some of my most tender memories of the trip are just these little moments eating fluffy pancakes together.

cutest image ever

in the shark tunnel. awesome!

The touching tide pools at the aquarium. We went back 3 times--probably spent half the day there! We're pretty much experts by now.

Chocolate Sour Cream Frosting

2011-09-19T10:28:00.002-07:00

I have about a million things I want to write about-- our trip to Portland and the Oregon coast, Blaine's Back to School Feast, my new entry way artwork, what it feels like to have a Kindergartener...

While I work on pulling those posts together, here's the recipe I promised. It's from Martha Stewart's Cupcakes (my favorite (of many) cupcake cookbooks).

Ingredients:
2 cups powdered sugar
1/4 cup unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
1/8 tsp salt
6 oz cream cheese--room temp.
6 T (3/4 stick) butter--room temp.
9 oz bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled (I used semi-sweet choc chips)
3/4 cups sour cream

Directions:
Sift together powdered sugar, cocoa, and salt. With an electric mixer on medium-high speed, beat cream cheese and butter until pale and fluffy. Reduce speed to low. Gradually add sugar mixture; mix until combined. Mix in melted and cooled chocolate and then sour cream; scrape down sides of bowl and continue beating until smooth. (Makes 4 cups.)

Learning from my mother and the kind of home I want

2011-09-01T11:07:00.006-07:00

{Recent activity in my mother's home--making food animals with the boys (my mom is so cute) and
blackberry jam with Mom and Jessie}

Well gosh, thanks for your comments last time. It's good to know there's someone here. Like I said, it feels good just to journal here, but I have to say, it feels even better to feel like I'm connecting with people. As I anticipated, that's what I miss most about Bloom. Connecting with people and telling my story. So I'm glad I can still do that here. Thanks for your encouragement.

I've been thinking a lot about life and beauty and mothering and what matters. I told you last time I have given up a lot of design-y blogs because they make me want too much and distract me. That's not to say I don't care how my home looks or want to go shopping next weekend. It's all about balance I guess. And focus. I want my children to have a beautiful life but I don't want the materialism of it all to consume me. Does that make sense?

It's like this:
Yesterday I left the boys playing at my mom's house while I ran a couple of miles. As I was coming back up the hill to my parents' property, I smiled as I passed my mom's colorful flower mound at the front of their garden, took in the corn, the beans, the cantaloupe vines, the gourds, the pumpkins, the tomatoes, and more. My favorite curvy row in the garden is Mom's State Fair Zinnias--all sorts of huge, bold colors. I came in her house and looked around at her collection of dishes in her glass-front cabinet and the family pictures above her desk. As I gulped down a drink of water I looked at the jars of my brother's honey on the window ledge--light, dark, and darker. My favorite is the one with the honeycomb in it--pioneer honey.

My mother's home isn't extravagant, but it is beautiful. It has always been rich with color and comfort and home grown goodness. She likes to decorate, but it doesn't break the bank. Nor does it look like it was over-designed. (Nor has the teal 1988 furniture been replaced.) It looks like real people live there. There are always fresh flowers in the house--almost always from her yard. There is almost always a project going in the kitchen--mince meat pies, blackberry jam, chicken soup, oatmeal crunchies...

I love the home I grew up in. And that's what I'm trying to create for my children. A soft place to land. A place where beautiful and delicious things grow. A place that's tidy and happy and peaceful and fun. In my ideal world it would have a prettier light fixture in the dining area and hardwood floors in the living room, but I'm learning not to obsess over those things. (Hallelujah.)

loves,
anne

p.s. Sour cream chocolate frosting recipe? You got it, next time. Also, we've been enjoying every blackberry application there is--jam, pie, milkshakes, and cobbler. Ahhh...blackberries. I love thee, Oregon. Blackberry cobbler recipe HERE.

Hi...hello...are you out there?

2011-08-22T10:05:00.004-07:00

{We finally blessed Jared Carter. I really like the look on my face in this picture. It says, 'I love this boy and I am at peace being a mother.' 5 years ago I did not look like that.}

It's weird trying to adjust from Bloom back to this blog, where I feel like a stranger. The whole point of saying goodbye to Bloom was that I don't want to blog every day, so that is feeling like a relief, but the hard part is feeling so disconnected from people. Like, is any one out there?

I'm happy to just post on here like it's my journal, but sometimes I wonder what else to post. For example, yesterday I made really delicious chocolate frosting. It had sour cream in it, which made it nice and tangy. Should I post that recipe? Or would that be a waste of time?

One great thing I noticed in week one of no Bloom is that I spent far less time on the computer in general. Which is good because I am a little bit sick of most of the blog world I have participated in. It's all too much. Too much focus on stuff, too much time, too much wanting and wishing. And it all becomes so repetitive. It's mostly all the same stuff, over and over again. I'm kind of over it all right now. Not in a self-righteous sort of way. Just in a 'I don't want to feel dissatisfied with my own life' sort of way. Plus I just have too much to do. Like swimming with my kids. Plus you should see the upstairs toilet right now. Grrrrross.

Now that I'm not blogging about blooming I am hoping to have time for more actual blooming. I am planning a Nie-inspired back to school feast for Blaine, just purchased a pattern to make myself a new skirt, am training for the 5K that almost killed me last fall, have high hopes to recover my vomit-inducing living room chairs, and want to buy a piano. Plus this: I haven't printed a photograph since Roger was a baby (March 2008). Heaven help me that is going to be a long (but important!) project.

Time to go tackle my post-weekend mess.

xo
anne

p.s. seriously though, is anyone out there?

August

2011-08-15T11:31:00.003-07:00

Yesterday we enjoyed a perfect, quiet evening with my parents at the ranch. Homemade chili and biscuits, then some runnin' around...

As far as I'm concerned, blackberry season is the best time of the year.

From Sara's wedding...

2011-08-08T23:13:00.000-07:00

A few of my favorite things from the wedding...

Honey jars for the favors (my brother keeps bees, so it's his local honey--love that!) Sara and I covered the lids with Amy Butler fabric and twine.
They were displayed on bee boxes--loved that touch.
My husband, Taylor, made the wedding cake. I loved the 'scraped' look of the butter cream frosting and the local raspberries--such a nice organic look.
To supplement the cake (and we still totally ran out!) I did cupcakes--mini lemons, coconut, these chocolate chocolates,
and my new and improved mint chocolate chip cupcakes (they totally got a makeover--goodbye green food coloring, hello mint leaves! plus the mini chips are a better texture we decided).

Sara and Shane are the most darling newlyweds. We were sad to send them home to Utah!

xoxo
anne

Simple Superhero capes

2011-08-01T23:15:00.001-07:00

This spring I made some quick and easy capes for Blaine and Rog. I wanted something non-specific, partly because I don't love all the character commercialization in the world but mostly because a more neutral cape= more diverse imaginative play. I settled on a soft brown fabric with chocolate grosgrain ribbon for ties and a first initial appliqued on the back.

This was a really satisfying project for an amateur seamstress like me. They were simple and quick, and turned out just how I'd envisioned.

You can make one, too. Here's how:

***Unfamiliar with applique? Try this
(she taught me everything I know on the subject).
***Not into sewing but like this idea? You could make the whole thing out of felt and a hot glue gun and never touch a needle and thread!

Happy Monday!
xoxo
anne

Project Runway Soiree

2011-07-29T23:16:00.000-07:00

We've been so excited about Project Runway Season 9, that a couple friends and I had to have an impromptu first episode viewing party about it!

Besides popcorn we munched on...

oreo mini cheesecakes,

chocolate chippers with oreos inside (They are as good as they sound!),

and cake pops shaped like spools of thread (my friend, Jessie, was responsible for these, as well as most of the party's aweseomeness).

We drank soda in glass bottles (always tastes better--seriously though)

with stripey straws.

For decor Jessie whipped up those cute embroidery hoops (see top photo) and had this banner made--so classic PR.

Of course we loved every minute of celebrating the return of Heidi, Tim, Michael, and Nina; wowwing over some of the ingenious designs and rolling our eyes about the hideous ones. So fun!

What about you?
Are you a fan?
Did you watch?
Who do you like so far?
Do you think that girl from Trinidad really just learned to sew? (We think she might be fibbing a little...)

Happy weekend!
xoxo
anne

Learning from Regret

2011-07-28T23:17:00.000-07:00

A lot of people say "No regrets!" like they really have no regrets in their life.

I just don't understand that.

Because I have regrets. Boy howdy, do I!

One of my biggest regrets is not getting it with my first baby.

I didn't get how fast he would grow. I didn't get how fleeting that time was. I didn't get how perfect he was. I didn't get how lucky I was.

I liked being a mom well enough and I knew it was important, but I didn't really get it.

With my second I started to get it more.

I enjoyed it more, I reveled longer. It began to define me.

Lately I like to sit in my chair of many colors to nurse Jared Carter. When he's sufficiently drunken with goodness, I put my feet up on my ottoman and sit him up to pat some burps out. I want to sit their all day. I want to squish his cheeks and make him smile. I want to make faces at him so he'll raise his expressive eyebrows at me. I want to tickle right between his ribs and his armpits to make him giggle uncontrollably. I want to pinch his fat tummy and poke at his cavernous belly button. And I want to kiss his neck 9 million times.

I could let the dishes pile up for weeks and let the big boys get muddy outside to their hearts' delight just to sit in that chair and love my squishy babe.

And I'll tell you what.

I would give anything to do the same with baby Blaine. It pains me to the core that I missed that with him.

I envy my friends who got it with their first.

I know it's all about hindsight and there's no point in dwelling on the past and I just need to love him now. But it still makes me sad.

'Cause this is the best.

Lemonade

2011-07-20T23:19:00.000-07:00

"I have some lemons leftover from my baking, boys. Shall we juice them and make sorbet?"

"Oh, Mom! Instead can we make lemonade and sell it for money?" Blaine begged. "You said in the summer I could have a lemonade stand and it's finally a warm day!"

"OK, let's do it!" I agreed, as I plugged in the electric juicer. And we set to work. I carried a table and chairs out to the sidewalk and gathered plastic cups while Blaine and his brother, Roger squeezed out lemons with all their might. They worked long and hard for that lemon juice. I helped them mix in a hearty scoop of sugar and some water, created a sign as directed by Blaine, found them a pail to collect the money, and set them out on their first ever entrepreneurial venture.

As I watched them beckon to passing cars and helped them pour some cups for the neighborhood kids that stopped by on their bikes, I reveled in this perfect summer moment. I was enchanted by the magic of my boys' first lemonade stand, thrilled that the sun was finally here to stay, and--I dare say--a little proud of myself for going to the effort to make it happen. It was one of those moments.

After the bike gang left our pitcher empty, I helped Blaine stir up one last batch and carried it out to the table. "Remember, son," I warned, "if someone wants some lemonade, holler at me so I can pour it. We don't want it to spill!"

I wasn't even back in the house before I heard it. The pitcher of lemonade crashed down and all of the magic and pride of the moment with it. I ran outside to find Blaine in screaming tears over the spilled lemonade. I was filled with heartbreak and frustration all at once. "What happened, son?"

"Rog wanted some. I was trying to pour it and the lid fell off and it all spilled out!" he sobbed. "Oh, Blaine! I am so sorry about your lemonade. I wish you had listened to me, son. This wouldn't have happened if you had called me to pour it like I told you!"

Uuuuugggghhh. I was crushed. It tore me up inside that my son lost something he had worked so hard for. It killed me that it could have all been avoided if he had just trusted me and taken my advice.

As we hosed off the sticky sidewalk and lemonade stand together I thought to myself, "This was just spilled lemonade. What happens when he's sixteen and it's a car accident?" Just thinking about that felt like getting punched in the stomach.

But here's what it comes down to:

I can teach and I can warn. I can plead and I can encourage. I can set parameters and make rules. But in the end, I have to allow my children autonomy and agency. And, as much as it pains me, I have to let them feel the consequences of their actions.

As we dried off the table and brought the chairs in, I looked at Blaine and said, "Did you learn a lesson today?"

"Yes, Mom."

Oh how I hope he remembers it.

--anne

Road Trip Re-Cap

2011-07-18T23:20:00.000-07:00

We welcomed July and celebrated our nation's independence with my whole ginormous family at Yellowstone Park. It was no small fete, considering we are two and a half dozen people and some of us hail from Chile!

There is nothing like the grandeur and majesty of the American West, and Yellowstone is the ultimate. It was a week of adventuring and swimming, laughing and snacking, story telling and loving. {For my poor mother I think it was mostly a week of worriedly counting heads, but we all survived!}

I'm a huge advocate for family reunions. It's a ton of work to haul food for 30 for a week two states away. It requires hours of planning and communicating. Sometimes it's pure chaos. But to watch my boys forming relationships with their far-away cousins and laugh my guts out with my siblings I would do just about anything.

{from the top: Rog and Blaine are BEST friends these days, Uncle Brian with the 3 amigos, Blaine adored cousin Bridget (as did I), me + 4 boys at Yellowstone's Grand Canyon, cousies wating for Old Faithful to erupt (totally lived up to the hype!), Seamus the 14-year-old giant (was darling with Rog!) and my twin brother, Steven, Blaine the Science Kid couldn't get enough of the geo thermal landscape}

{Jon works the bedhead (at the breakfast table where 3,476 bowls of lucky charms were consumed--GROSS!), baby Steven and baby Carter, Nana and Carter}

On our last day there were gifts from Chile and North Carolina and a big fat talent show.

And, because I love you, here is a video clip of my sister, Liz and me doing a 'tap-off' for the talent show. It has been a decade plus since we've tapped and it was all we could do to not laugh our heads off. Wow, thanks for the lessons, Dad. Totally worth your money, don't you think? {Liz, can you ever forgive me for posting this?}

Now, try to stop laughing at me while I tell you about the second, more solemn part of my trip. Taylor, the boys, and I cut out of the family festivities early to dash down to Utah for the funeral of our dear friend, Wes. His wife, Lori, has made several appearances here at Bloom, so I thought you'd want to know about her loss. We can't stop crying about it and hurting for Lori and her children. It was a privilege to know Wes. We hope you'll remember the Trumans in your prayers.

xoxoxo
anne

Showering Sara

2011-06-23T23:23:00.000-07:00

{engagement photo by Danielle Wilson}

When my sister-in-law Sara got engaged to darling Shane, I jumped at the chance to throw her a shower.

The Decor:

Pom-poms (from an old Martha Stewart for Michael's line), my favorite lovey print, free printable banner from here-- "S and S" = "Sara and Shane" (a little cryptic, I know), and flowers with homemade wire picture holders.

The menu:

Fresh fruit, bread, and salads galore (Caesar salad from Frankly Entertaining, farfalle with pesto and peas from Ina Garten, my SIL, Melissa's famous Greek salad, and my favorite spinach salad). To drink--chilled Kearns nectars and San Pellegrinos (the Limonata is my favorite beverage on the planet!)

The activities:

I'm not a huge fan of shower games, so the main activity I always do is ask the bride questions and see if her answers match those of the groom--which I have pre-recorded and are projected for all to see. (I don't make her chew bubble gum for wrong answers.) The video makes for a fun keepsake for the couple and is a great way for the shower guests to learn more about the groom. (I'll have you know I had to swallow my pride to post this picture because I loathe that printed chair--a classic thrift buy that I purchased fabric to recover, but...)

And of course we had presents--including family heirloom china. So sweet!

For dessert:

Hand-dipped waffle cones (semi-sweet chocolate with coconut, walnuts, or sprinkles) with assorted ice cream, gelato, and sorbet.

To take home:

My mother helped me come up with this simple favor--giant oatmeal chewies and chocolate chip cookies. The twist? It's not for you, it's for your husband. Mom says, "If you come home with a treat for him, he will love showers!" Brilliant.

***all shower images by Stacey Morris

Hot dog!

2011-06-15T23:24:00.000-07:00

Are you kiddin' me? Check out my birthday surprise! Can't even believe it...

xo
anne

I'm Even Managing Not to Have a Third-life Crisis

2011-06-13T23:24:00.000-07:00

When my birthday is approaching I tend to think big. I dream of having my own sewing machine, receiving a gorgeous new necklace, or being surprised with a mint green cruiser. I picture myself cruising around the neighborhood on said bike, my hair blowing behind me, showing the world that 30 is still young.

{feel free to roll your eyes.}

But once the day actually comes (it's here! I'm 30 today!), I find myself far more content, and my dream wish list sort of just disintegrates. I'm happy to sleep in, nurse the baby in bed, and welcome the older two boys--pajama-clad and bed-hedded--to join our snuggle when they come downstairs. I'm content to work on laundry and wipe counters and plan a park outing. (And break up fights and clean up spills and wipe away tears.) I'm thrilled to have a mellow day to just marinate in my life.

Seven years ago this month I completed my eighteen month stint as a Mormon missionary. I came home, started dating my best friend, and got engaged within six weeks. I remember one night, after returning home from a date with Taylor, I burst into tears, picked up the phone, and dialed his number. It went to voice mail. After the beep I blurted out, in between sobs, "I just want to say that I'm so happy! All I ever wanted to do in my whole life was be a missionary and marry Taylor Cropper! I can't believe I got what I wanted! I am so grateful!"

And it just keeps getting better and better.

Who needs a wish list?

Not me.

xoxo,
anne

Best Buttercream

2011-06-05T23:26:00.001-07:00

I've posted this before, but it remains a topic of emails and friends' inquiries.

What is the recipe for the best butter cream frosting?

Memorize this ratio:

1 stick butter (room temp) to 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar to 1 tablespoon milk

(Cream butter and sugar first, then add milk.)

Now that you know the ratio, you can make as big a batch as you need. For a batch of 24 cupcakes, I would double it if I were spreading frosting with a knife, and triple it if I were piping the frosting out with a pastry bag.

As far as flavor is concerned, you can add vanilla (even better: vanilla bean paste!), mint extract, coconut extract, etc. (Use your own taste buds to know how much!)

love and cupcakes,
anne

We're all in this together

2011-06-02T23:27:00.000-07:00

{Lucy T. holds baby Carter after showing me her collection of bug drawings and performing at least a dozen cartwheels}

A few weeks ago I dropped everything and flew (with the babe, of course) to Utah. Although I always feel strange leaving my children, I knew they were in the capable and loving arms of my husband, my parents, my husband's parents, and even several aunties (we recognize how lucky we are), so I decided to revel in the opportunity to visit a place I love and many people I adore, all while having lots of time just for holding and feeding my baby.

A lot of things about the trip stand out. The way I couldn't stop grinning as I walked through the Salt Lake airport. How elated I felt driving up University Parkway and through the tree streets. How lovingly I sat in Grandma's home--the home I lived in as a newlywed, the home I brought two babies home to. How fun and free I felt as my SIL Sara and I shopped and worked on wedding plans and watched chick flicks late into the night.

But what has stuck with me most following the trip were some observations I made as I visited my friends.

Observation no. 1: Your children are precious.

In the absence of my boys, I had unprecedented time and attention to give to my friend's children. I held them and beheld them. I watched Lucy T victoriously jump rope across the back patio. I smiled and cheered when she was successful and felt her frustration when the rope got caught up in her dress. I smiled as I watched Spencer--just up from a nap--rest his ruffled little head lovingly on his mother's chest. I marveled as Bronx and Bo (so grown up!) served me lunch so darlingly ("Would you like another sandwich, Anne? How about some ice water?"). I held Avery and became so enchanted with her one-of-a-kind personality that I found myself asking her to pray down a little girl just like her for me. I wanted to eat Ollie's big baby cheeks. Lucy B. dazzled me with her curliest of all hair and Disney princess eyes. Her brother Charlie charmed me with his blonde locks, glasses, and coy grin. I sat on the couch with Claire and felt my jaw drop as she (who just turned 4!) read me a book well beyond her years. I held her brother Charlie, with the best round face I ever saw, and wanted to sneak him home in my suitcase. I watched Elinor and John chase each other around their living room and wished for the same energy and free-wheeling exuberance.

I loved every breath of it.

Observation no. 2: We're all in this together.

Without fail, apologies were made in every one of my friend's homes. "Sorry my house is such a mess." "I guess I should have combed her hair!" "Go ahead and use the bathroom; no promises as to how it looks!" "I'm Sorry he's acting like this!" They were the same apologies I make every single day. And it made me think, we don't need to apologize to each other. We're all about the same work. We all have messier than we prefer homes, occasionally whiny or sassy children, and some level of general bedlam in our lives. That's the way it is. No explanations or apologies necessary.

I came home renewed and ready to behold my little ones. (Nothing like a little vacation to fill you up with energy and patience!) I'm trying not to focus on the spilled chocolate chips and the screaming fights over legos and the potty training regression. I'm trying instead to see the tiny freckles across Blaine's cheeks and the way Roger moves his chubby little hands. I'm trying not to get so hot and bothered as I wipe up the kitchen floor seven times a day, but just be glad I have little ones eating at my table.

xoxo,
anne

p.s. One of the most awesome things I did in Utah? Appear on local TV. (I think I hear QVC calling...) {cue laughter}

Let them eat cake!

2011-05-23T23:28:00.000-07:00

Good gravy, what a morning! I've been up since 2 a.m., how about you? I accepted a cupcake job last week that grew and grew until it reached 1300 (mini cupcakes, that is)! 2/3 of the order was dropped off this morning, the last of it tomorrow.

So pretty much here's how it went down:

Last week in Utah (I went to Utah!) Emily the design goddess rocked my world and made me a logo and business cards in an evening. (I'll have to show you those soon!)

The day after I returned home from my Utah trip I took in a sample box of cupcakes to an office and left with an order 6 times larger than any I've ever done.

This morning at 2 I peeled my carcass out of bed and got to work in the kitchen and watched my friend, Jessie's Honda pull in my driveway. She was my sous pastry chef. True friend, I am telling you what.

Jessie and I baked and frosted and decorated from 2 until 7, stopping only to eat cereal, feed the baby, and almost cuss about burning a batch.

Taylor got up and replaced Jessie when she left for work. Then we called in major 11 and a halfth hour back up--Sara (s-i-l) and Shane, the newly betrothed.

Next my s-i-l Jill arrived to be there when my kids woke up and tend them while I delivered the cakes. Everyone helped box the 858 minis and delicately pack the boxes in the back of my van.

I delivered the cakes at 9:30, a half hour late. But they were beautiful and well received.

After a quick run for some final ingredients for tomorrow's baking, I arrived home to find Jill, Sara, and Shane still there. They had washed all the batter and frosting bowls, tidied the kitchen, started on the behemoth pile of laundry, vacuumed the entire house, mowed and edged the front and back lawns, picked up all the toys, made my bed, and tended the boys.

Are you kidding me? Unbelievable.

So here I am at 2:49 p.m. baking up tomorrow's cakes and playing with the boys out front. Thanks to the darling people in my life 858 cupcakes doesn't even feel that crazy.

OK maybe a little.

And, because I'm feeling a little silly (maybe it's the 3 hours of sleep?), and owing to the title of this post, I give you: Anne Marie Antoinette

(when you're furniture-sitting stuff that looks like it came from Versailles, you have to take advantage...)

I think I should take a nap.

xo,
anne

Anatomy of a real Mothers' Day

2011-05-09T23:29:00.000-07:00

A sentiment I've heard from many a mother: "Mothers' Day is never what you think it should be. You read sweet things on greeting cards and hear accolades over the church pulpit, all the while feeling guilty for losing your temper, comparing yourself to other women, and wishing your kids would just behave and get along for one single day!"

What I've learned for myself: "That's not what Mothers' Day is about. It's not for all the stars to align on the second Sunday of May. It's about taking a day to reflect on and be grateful for motherhood. Things will happen just like on any other day, so just dig in and celebrate your life for what it is."

So, I give you... a real Mothers' Day--2011.

6 something a.m. Listen to Taylor drive off to his Mom's house so he and his brother can surprise her with breakfast in bed like when they were kids. Roll over and feed the baby some more.

8:30 a.m. Peel myself out of bed and hop in the shower. Get out to the sounds of Taylor whipping up something in the kitchen and the boys getting up. Dash around the house like mad to get everyone ready for church in an hour. Put on my favorite shoes and think of Cookie. {She bought them for me on my last visit with her.}

9:43 a.m. With all three boys plus the neighbor kid in tow, depart for church with cheese, bananas, coffee cake, and cold milk on the center console of the mini-van.

10:45 a.m. Friend behind me during the church meeting gets my attention and whispers, "Blaine is coloring on his shoes!" I look over to see that, in deed, he has stopped working on the puppy dog coloring book and has successfully colored all of the white squares on his checkered vans red. I look at him incredulous. "I thought it would look nice," he says with a sheepish grin. Awesome. We have a budding Alexander McQueen in the family. "Please consult me the next time you decide to redesign your shoes," I whisper back, wondering what the consequence should be. (Still wondering.)

10:48 a.m. Look down to see that Roger is using the same red crayon to color on the carpet. "Stop!" I whisper loudly. "What are you doing?!" He replies, as he points to Blaine, "He made me do it." Awesome. Roger wails as Taylor pulls the crayon out of his hand. I carry him out of the chapel.

1:30 p.m. Return home from church to get busy in the kitchen. Taylor makes a zillion enchiladas and strawberry rhubarb pie for his mom while I make strawberry pie for mine. As I stand at the counter in my apron, I smile. Countless memories of rolling out pie crust and preparing fresh strawberries with my mother flood my mind.

4:00 p.m. The boys get squirrely and start pulling and snitching at Taylor's pie crust dough. I scurry them out of the kitchen, roll out a long sheet of paper, plop the bucket of markers on the ground and announce, "This is to wrap your grandmother's gifts. Color away!" I smile as I get back to my pie, patting myself on the back and thinking, "mothering just takes quick thinking and creativity."

4:13 p.m. Lightening strikes me for my pride. The boys are yelling. Roger has scribbled on Blaine's picture and Blaine has taken revenge by coloring on the back of Roger's nicest shirt. Punishments are given. Boys wail, scream, and kick. A temporary ban of crayons and markers is announced.

5:00 p.m. Dinner with my family. Enchiladas, tomales, bean dip, and dessert galore. Conversations about beekeeping, famous pianists, Dad's newest calf that won't eat, the latest Twilight movie, and breastfeeding. I give Mummy her gift, which she adores. I try to get her away from the sink, where she is scrubbing dishes. She refuses. Classic.

6:20 p.m. Cousin Sophie comes upstairs to announce that Rog peed all over his pants and the floor. I look at Taylor with my best "it's Mothers' Day" smile and he goes down to clean it up.

7:15 p.m. We arrive at my husband's family dinner to find all of the women sitting upon thrones. I take my place with them.

8:00 p.m. I give my mother-in-law her gift. She weeps.

8:15 p.m. I sit with Jared Carter on my lap. He coos and smiles and loves me.

Birthday Party of the Year

2011-05-02T23:30:00.000-07:00

I didn't want to do anything big. I don't like huge birthday parties. They're stressful and they set a high bar for birthdays for the rest of a child's life. 'Just a cake and playtime at the park. No presents necessary' my text message invite said. I sent it off to a few family members, neighbors, and friends. I delegated the cake artistry to Taylor (as always) and that was that. No more preparations were needed (I thought).

But then the morning of the party came and I started to realize that in my efforts to make the party zero stress I had forgotten a few little details. Like what was I going to serve the cake on? I was out of paper goods, so I threw every plastic and melamine bowl, plate, and cup into a basket. I decided it wasn't me being forgetful, it was me being green. I daringly dropped all of my nice forks into the basket as well.

Then Blaine dropped the bomb on us that he really really really wanted a pinata. Something he'd mentioned weeks ago but I'd honestly hoped he'd forgotten. While Taylor stayed home to build the cake, I put all three boys in the swagger wagon and sped off to our neighborhood Walmart. Their pinatas were $20. Twenty bucks?! Not on your life. I looked at Blaine and said, "These are way too expensive." And bless his heart, my dear boy (who had had about 17 meltdowns all week) looked at me un-phased and said, "Let's just go get a brown paper bag, Mom."

An hour later we headed to the park with a hand-crafted pinata, a plastic bat, a broom, a gallon of milk, every plastic serving dish known to man, and the world's coolest cake. But. Ohhhhhmigosh our darling little park (a stone's throw from our house) had been defiled. Some unfortunate animal fight had left a stinky dead skunk ripped to shreds---all over our park. It was gruesome and stiiiiiiiinky. Children were screaming (and barfing!). It was that bad. A change of venue was declared, so while children were gathered into vehicles I sent out a text to the guests yet to arrive and we drove to the city park a mile away.

Our new venue was not ideal. The entire pavilion was decked out for a Mexicano birthday party. I looked at their table cloths and balloon bouquets on every post and felt like such a loser.

We had no choice but to plop our party down in the grass, which was, by the way, about two feet long (Parks and Rec budget cuts?). Taylor found some shade for his cake, we piled up the presents (no one ever complies with my 'no presents' request), and set the kids free on the playground.

After some free play, we gathered the kids for the pinata disaster of the year.

{The kids line up smallest to biggest.}

Now I don't care that the pinata wasn't pretty (I am ALL ABOUT kids creations), but boy, our lack of preparations sure showed in the whole hanging it up process. Taylor and his brother, Tanner, gave it a mighty effort and jimmy rigged it with some twine, but the dang thing kept breaking and had to be re-attached in between every single kid.

{The brothers Cropper attempt to hang the pinata.}

We finally gave up. Taylor climbed the tree and manually moved the pinata up and down for the kids to hit. It was comical, to say the least. I looked at all of my supportive friends and shrugged. Then I looked over to the Mexican fiesta, well organized and smelling delicioso (I would have committed a crime for some of their tacos) and wondered what they thought about the idiotic Americans' attempt at a pinata.

{Cousin Mary takes a swing at it. Awesome.}

Of course Blaine had to cry about not getting enough of the pinata candy and Roger had to cry because he dropped his pink starburst and couldn't find it in the jungle grass, but we pressed on.

I sat down with the kids to open presents, which was the most stressful bit of the whole thing. The kids were on top of Blaine like piranhas, trying to see the gifts. Tissue paper was flying everywhere, I was attempting to keep the presents organized, and stopping Blaine in between each one to help him eek out a 'thank you' before tearing into the next one. The whole situation seriously stressed me out. No wonder I always say 'no presents.'

Finally it was time for cake, which was the only thing about the party that was genuinely awesome. Taylor's volcano cake was amazing and delicious besides.

{Anyone who knows Blaine knows that this is his kind of cake. And of course he can name every one of those dinosaurs.}

As fate would have it, it was a sunny, breezy day, so Blaine's candles wouldn't stay lit. After several attempts at blocking the wind, Taylor finally just lit a match and exclaimed, "Blaine, blow!" His eyes revealed distress, but he blew as commanded and didn't lose it (glory be!).

{I first made the mistake of putting in only four candles. I can't believe he is FIVE!}

After the cake was devoured and all of my silverware was retrieved, we called it a day.

I still can't stop laughing about it all. But you know what? That is real life. And Blaine loved it. So, mission accomplished.

Trying to decide which party blogs to submit this to,
anne

Solve and Resolve

2011-04-18T23:32:00.000-07:00

My favorite from J. Kirk Richards' inspiring series

Wednesday morning text message to Taylor:

Thank your coworkers for not pooing on the carpet

'Cause one of my coworkers--Roger to be exact--had just had an accident, which he proceeded to step in and track all over the upstairs.

Awesome.

This was just a day or two after Blaine had dumped a third of a gallon of milk out on the kitchen counter and floor and just a few hours before both boys made major mischief in my sewing stuff.

{This is where my mom asks, 'Well what were they doing out of your sight?' and I reply, 'I have to go to the bathroom and take showers and help the baby sometimes! Give me a break!}

By Wednesday evening I came unglued. "I hate my job!" I ranted to Taylor. "I can't get anything done around here because they mess things up faster than I can clean them. And they absolutely never listen to me. Never!"

"Dear, can you please use a softer voice and fewer superlatives?" Taylor calmly asked.

"No! I'm mad! And they aren't superlatives! They're true!" I barked back, irrational as ever. "I just don't know what to do! I don't know what to do!"

It wasn't until the next morning that I had laughed at myself a little, calmed down a lot, and decided that it was time to come up with some solutions.

I grew up with a mother who always said, "Every problem has a solution." She chanted that mantra to me all my life and now I repeat it to my own children.

My sister, Liz, once told me: "It doesn't make sense for us mothers to throw our hands up and say 'I give up on this problem.' What if I had a corporate job? When something hard came up would I just sulk and tell the boss 'I quit?' Never! I would go back to my office and figure out a solution! Mothering is my job. When I meet a challenge, I have to find a way to make it better."

Thursday morning email to Taylor:

I am working on some solutions. Like I am going to keep the baby's room (where the sewing stuff is kept) and upstairs bathroom (where much water mischief takes place)locked. And I am going to try to nurse upstairs so the kids can play and I can see them.

The other part of the solution is for me to a) stop having a panic attack every 5 minutes that my house doesn't look perfect b) remind myself that they are 3 and 4 years old and c) find the power to control myself and stop all the ranting and raving.

So anyway, those are my goals. I don't hate my job. Not at all. I love it. I like it. I reverence it.

In fact, it was the image at the top of this post that motivated my penance. I saw it Thursday morning and the reverence flooded over me.

--anne

Finding my Mothering App

2011-03-30T23:33:00.000-07:00

I had a conversation with my ever wise friend, Danielle, a couple years back that changed my life. As we were talking about feeding infants and teaching kids to sleep she said, "You know, it's always helpful to talk to other mothers about things, and parenting books certainly have merit, but I feel like a lot of moms worry so much about 'what the experts say' that they ignore their own maternal instincts and intuition. You can know your own children and how to take care of them."

That conversation has played over and over in my mind. When I became a mother nothing about it felt natural or instinctive, like I thought it would. I wondered if I really could tap into that motherly intuition Danielle seemed to have so easily. I have worked to build that maternal sense. It seems to be a few parts logic mixed with a few parts experience, all carried by a higher power that is not my own.

In the last week it has become all the more real to me.

Exhibit A:

About ten days ago Roger brought home RSV and shared it with the baby, who I'd been working desperately to protect from sickness. He gave some to me, too. I watched it the first day, calling my nurse practitioner s-i-l, Jill, for advice. By the second day I was terrified. Sometimes it seemed like he could hardly get a breath. As I watched his chest and neck suck in, I reached for the phone and made a quick appointment with the doctor. At the appointment the doctor gave me two choices: admit him to the hospital or take him home and care for him. With her instructions, I felt confident I could care for him at home. But oh. It was miserable. My husband had to leave town, so I took my camp of sickies to my parents' home. My mom cared for Rog, who woke up in coughing fits each night, and my job was the baby. The first couple of nights I slept ten minutes at a time, waking up in a panic each time the baby snorted or gasped for air. I would tear the snaps on his sleeper open to check his chest. My throat was sore, I couldn't breathe, my head felt like it was going to explode. And I was terrified that if I actually went to sleep, I would wake up to find a dead baby. These were long days and even longer nights.

Then one afternoon everything changed. I fed the baby, sucked out his nose with the bulb syringe to ensure he had clear air passage, snuggled him up, and left him napping in the warm safety of my parents' den. I fed the big boys lunch, chatted with my mom, and took a shower, checking on the baby every now and then. As I watched him breathe and sleep soundly, my irrational behavior and morbid fears vanished as I realized that if I could leave him to nap in the day, I could sleep while he slept at night. If he was fed and his nose was clear, I knew he would be OK. I knew. And I trusted.

Now, several days, doctor appointments, doses of amoxicillin (ear infections all around), and prayers later, we are each on the mend. (Hallelujah!)

Exhibit B:

Yesterday morning I handed Rog a babybel cheese in the kitchen, then ran up to Blaine's room to help him get dressed for pre-school. It couldn't have been more than three minutes to help him choose his black corduroys and striped sweater. I came down stairs to see the cheese broken on the kitchen floor and the front door swung wide open. And I knew Rog was gone. When Roger gets hurt he runs to the next room to throw a fit instead of into my arms. That's his brand of tantrum. Obviously the cheese had broken and he'd gotten mad and run (and this time not just into the next room.)

I raced outside (grateful I was dressed to drive B to pre-school instead of in my typical morning half nudity). In the rain, I ran down one side of the sidewalk and turned the corner. No Roger. I ran down the other side. No Roger. We hopped in the van while I started scrolling through my phone and calling every neighbor I could. No one answered. I drove like mad around my little neighborhood searching for my little blonde. "Pray!" I ordered Blaine. Had he run to the park? To my neighbor Melanie's? He was nowhere. I started to panic. In my small-town neighborhood I was confident he wasn't kidnapped at 9 o'clock on a Tuesday morning. But when Roger's throwing a fit, he's not thinking very clearly, and I knew my greatest fear of a child getting hit by a car was entirely feasible this morning. I drove up to Talent Avenue, the main drag in our little city. No Roger. I drove back through our neighborhood. Where was he? I finally got a hold of Taylor and plead, "What should I do?!" I considered calling the police. He advised me to try a few more minutes. I hung up the phone and stopped at the intersection. My mothering voice told the crazy person in my head to stop panicking and focus. I calmed myself. I thought a prayer. I channeled my inner mother. He's gone farther she said. I knew I needed to cross this street and drive over into the next neighborhood. Halfway down the street, there they were. A man and a woman, carrying a child. My eyes filled with tears, I slammed on my brakes and ran to them. "That's my boy," I sobbed!

{The rest of the story is that these nice people had called the police, who, when they arrived, looked at me like I was a total ignoramus when they saw how far my pajama-clad, barefooted boy had run in the rain, and asked me why I didn't have an alarm on my door (who has an alarm on their door?!). It was awesome. I was just glad to have my boy back. He got a firm talking to that lasted pretty much all day. And on Saturday's to do list: install a high lock on the front door. OK and probably an alarm, too. Boy am I feeling like a shmuck.}

The jury is still out on what was scarier--listening to an infant struggle for air or searching the streets for my runaway boy. But I can tell you this: in each instance, once I found my center and channeled those mother instincts, we prevailed (and thank the holy heavens disaster hadn't struck yet when we did). You can call it intuition. You can call it your gut. I like to think of it as the mothering application of the Holy Spirit. I don't think it matters what you call it. But it is real. And it is power. Thank you, Danielle, for teaching me to find mine.

xoxo

anne

Top of the Stack

2011-03-09T23:34:00.001-08:00

Each of us has a bundle of memories. I have a particularly large bundle that includes many ridiculous, detailed memories of things like what I wore on the first day of third grade. But out of that stack of life's memories, there are a particular few that I long to re-live. I am hopeful that after this life is over there might be some virtual reality sort of way to re-live some of these most profound, visceral experiences.

Like the singular experience of having Jared Carter placed directly on my chest. He cried through his first few breaths of life, as the nurses stood behind me and rubbed his tiny yet robust little body clean. I cried simultaneously. Here was my baby boy. The one I'd fought my bad health for. The one I'd known was a boy all along. The one I'd secretly worried the most about. After all the days of nausea and the sore legs and all the patience I could muster. Here he was.

We lay there together a long time. He on my chest, wrapped in a clean white towel. His little long-fingered hand found my finger and grabbed on. Hello, son.

Tired but happy,
Anne

A birth story

2011-03-08T16:35:00.005-08:00

Jared Carter Cropper

March 1, 2011
7 lbs. 13 oz.
21 inches

Here's the thing. I write really long birth stories. I like details for family history purposes. If you are still here by the end, then wow! You must really love me.

On Monday, February 28th I was 3 days overdue. I know a lot of women go 2 weeks overdue, so I won't bemoan being overdue too much. But. I felt useless. My round ligament was shot. I could hardly walk. I vowed to never make fun of waddling pregnant women again. I couldn't sleep at night. Whether I was up going to the bathroom or stirred awake by another bad dream of the baby falling out at home, I wasn't getting much rest. And I felt like I couldn't do very much for my boys. I'd decided to ask Dr. Binette to induce me on Tuesday morning.

At my appointment I was only 3 cm, but the baby very low. I told him I'd like to be induced. He told me the plan would be to come in at 6:30 a.m. and receive a cytotec tablet, which softens you for labor. He'd then break my water around 9 a.m. "You'll be done by noon," he declared. I knew it would be sooner. I'm really fast.

I spent Monday getting my ducks in a row. House tidied. Laundry done. Boys packed up for my mom's house. Rides arranged for B's preschool. (Thanks, Matt!) When Tay came home from work we took the boys to Mom and Dad's, got them going on carrot sticks and mac and cheese, sorted out car seats and instructions, and said goodnight. Then we went to Bonsai for sushi and tempura (we'd also been there the day the ultrasound confirmed he was a boy with a tearful Blaine!) to celebrate. While I blissfully ate my crunchy roll, Taylor looked up "March 1st" on his iphone, making sure it was a good date. (Taylor is really into having a meaningful birthday. His is Bastille Day. Blaine's is May Day. Rog's is "March Forth!") It turns out that March 1st is Wilford Woodruff's (fourth prophet of our church) birthday, which is fun. Also, March 1st 1803 Ohio became a state, which is significant to me because of my mission in Ohio but even more so because this baby was going to be named after Jared Carter, who had been a key member of our church in Kirtland, Ohio, in the 1830s. (More about his name later.) Before we went home we stopped by the hospital to check on Taylor's dad, Dean, who'd just had a knee replacement. He looked like he was in so much pain, I wanted to cry for him. I would give birth the next morning, just a few floors down.

Before bed Taylor helped me tidy toys and make sure everything was packed for the hospital. The last thing I had to do was take a shower and curl my hair. Yes, I am vain. But, come on, you know there are going to be a million pictures of you--you might as well be prepared! We finally went to sleep around 11 p.m.

I woke up with abdominal pain. I looked at my phone. 4:15 a.m. I thought about the fact that I ate my weight in tempura vegetables a few hours before and tried to go back to sleep. Six minutes later I was sitting up in bed checking my phone again. It wasn't the tempura. It was labor.

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep so I got up and started getting ready to go to the hospital. I figured I was due there by 6:30 anyway, but maybe we'd have to check in early. Next comes Taylor's favorite part of the story to tell. I went back to the bedroom and woke him up a little. "Hey, Tay. It's 4:35 a.m. I just want you to know that I've been having some contractions. They're only about 6 minutes apart and they're not too painful." Groggy Taylor: "So what are you doing?" Me: "Oh I'm just doing my make up."

After my make up I put on my new Gilly Hicks sweatsuit (thanks, Bec!) and ate some cheerios upstairs while I watched Private Practice and part of Parenthood. (Good thing for DVR!) Taylor came up a little before 6. "Well, get ready," I said. "We need to leave for the hospital." {As it turned out, I was so grateful I'd chosen to be induced. Had I not planned on induction, I wouldn't have had my kids farmed out, etc. but would have gone into labor at 4:15 that morning and panicked about getting the kids taken care of, etc.}

At 6:11 on the way to the hospital I texted Brian, my anesthesiologist brother. "I think I'm going to need drogas soon. I've been in labor 2 hours. He wasn't going to break my water until 9 but I think the babe will be here by then."

When we walked in to the birth center I looked at the nurses at the desk. "I'm here to be induced. Except I'm already in labor. And I'm going home tonight." They all looked back at me incredulously. "Well," one of them said, "you have to have your doctor and pediatrician approve that." "I'm a cash payer," I said. "If I'm here one minute over 24 hours, I'll get charged for an extra day. Which is $10,000. I have to get home tonight!"

One of the nurses showed us to room 8, where I'd be delivering. I put on my gown, got out my West Elm catalog, and sat on the bed, waiting for the good doctor. In he came, wearing a bow tie as always, coffee cup in hand. He reviewed the time line we'd talked about the day before, and I looked Taylor like "yeah right." "I think you better check me before the cytotec," I said. "I've been having contractions since around 4. So he did. And he said, "Yep, you're in labor. You're at a 5. We're not going to do cytotec." Then he turned to the nurse and said, "Hand me that amnihook, please. We're just going to break her water now." Love it.

So he broke my water at about 6:55. Well that really got things going. My contractions really picked up--in pain, in length, in frequency. "You need to get my brother here," I said. I knew full well that I could be complete in a half hour, and if he didn't get there fast, I wouldn't be getting my epidural. Which I really wanted. The nurse--who was due to go home in just a few minutes--called down to the nurses' station. "Hi, I need some help in here. She's really in labor and I don't have anything ready. I need someone down here to prep an epidural tray and a baby bed and everything." If I hadn't been grimacing in pain I would have laughed out loud. It seems like no matter how many times you tell people "I deliver really fast," they never believe you. In came several of the nurses that we'd met at the door. "Wow," said the cute, short-blonde-haired one. "You really might get home tonight!" So the nurses scurried around prepping everything. One of them stabbed the heck out of me until the got the IV in right. Meanwhile I breathed through my contractions and started to feel a sense of panic. I knew I could start transition real quick. The doctor came in to see how I was doing. I started yelling. "Someone call my brother and tell him to get his booty in here!" Taylor loves to laugh at that part. He says, "Who were you talking to?!" Anyone who would listen!

Around 7:15 or 7:30 maybe Brian showed up in his blue scrubs. "I was in the shower when you sent your text," he said. "What's up with casually mentioning in a text message that you've been in labor for 2 hours and then taking your sweet time to get to the hospital?" I'm sure the nurses were getting a kick out of our sibling banter. We made sure to quote some Tommy Boy for them in between contractions: "Does this baby make me look fat?" "No, your face does." He told me to sit up and swing my legs over the bed so he could put in the epidural. "Now," Brian said, "Let's cover up everything humanly possible!" (Brian is hilarious when it comes to his sisters. Kind of like being grossed out when you realized that your parents have sex, Brian never wants to hear a word about a sister's period, watch her breastfeed, etc. He was relieved that the baby monitor strap I was wearing covered up my bum crack so he didn't have to see it while placing the epidural in my back!)

Now here is where I give some important advice to anyone who is actually still reading this and wants to have a medicated delivery. DO NOT LET A DOCTOR GIVE YOU TOO STRONG OF AN EPIDURAL. My first epidural was so intense that I may as well have not had any lower extremities. I couldn't lift my legs, couldn't push when it was time, couldn't feel anything from my ribs down. WORTHLESS. I told Brian, "I need it strong enough to take the extreme pain away, but I need to be able to feel the contractions enough and to control my muscles when it's time to push." So he did just that. A good anesthesiologist should know how to do that. It was ideal. I could feel when the contractions came but I was numb enough to feel calm and in control.

My epidural slowed my contractions back down quite a bit--back to 6 or 7 minutes apart. So the doctor gave me a little bit of pitocin to pick things back up again. Which it did. By about 8:30 I was complete and ready to push. And, thanks to my custom epidural, I could totally do it. It was new to me to push. With Blaine and Rog it was like 2 pushes and out they came. This time I pushed for about 20 minutes. I love that part because you know you're at the end and the baby is coming soon! I loved the soft nurse's voice in my left ear counting to 10 each time I pushed. I loved Taylor's hand on my right arm. By this point, I could feel pretty well. In fact, right at the end, as the baby was coming out, I actually screamed a little. I think my exact words were, "Taylor this hurts!" That was new for me, because I'd been so drugged before. But it was a good hurt because I wasn't dying but could feel everything my body was doing. {And now, a note about the good doctor: I didn't have the slightest tear because the entire time I was pushing he was massaging me. I am telling you, after the episiotomy I received giving birth to Blaine, I couldn't walk, sit, sneeze, laugh, or cough for about 3 weeks. It was torture. These last two doctors have been so much better. I am not exaggerating at all when I say I could have hopped on a bike the next day. It is that much better. Talk to your doctor from the very beginning about this. If he is old school and believes in episiotomy, kick him to the curb. Seriously though.}

I always close my eyes when I push, but with the last one Taylor said, "Open your eyes and look! There he is!" And there he was. (8:54 a.m.) Crying and darling. Dr. Binette put him on my chest and Taylor cut the umbilical chord (which surprised me, as he declined the first two times). The nurses rubbed him clean with a towel while I held him. He grabbed my finger. I just cried. I wish I could live in that moment again. The nurse was so darling. She kept saying, "You hold him there as long as you want. No pressure." But after a few minutes I handed him over so she could weigh him, etc. Then she gave him back, in just a diaper. She untied my gown and put him right on top of my chest. Skin to skin. It was marvelous.

The rest of the day was just loving up the babe and receiving visitors. Mary Anne, Taylor's mom, was the first to arrive. She'd been upstairs with her husband when Taylor sent out a picture text. She just started running through the hospital showing everyone the picture. When she got to the security guard at the birth center she held up her phone and said, "He's here! And he's my grandson! Please let me in to see him!" Brian came in to see him, also my dad. (It's cute to see your brother and dad both in OR scrubs at the hospital.) My mom came with Jill and little Rog, who was just as interested in the smoothie my mom brought me as he was in his baby brother! Blaine came later, after preschool. Cousin Katie came with Mary Anne later, too. Mary Anne had picked her up early from school and she almost died from the excitement of it all. We even picked up some visitors thanks to Dean's knee surgery. Chip and Laura came, as did Spencer, and later Nate with Uncle Eldon and Henry.

All of the nurses were fabulous. They took good care of me, but also left us alone! That felt nice--not to be bothered. Also. They really took me seriously about checking out that night. They had my discharge papers ready by noon, and did everything they could to get the pediatrician there and have everything in order for us to leave. I was immensely grateful for them. At 7 p.m. we said goodbye to the nurses that had been there for it all, and welcomed the new ones that would discharge us. Dr. Mary came to check out the babe. She was darling as always. After his PKU and Hep B were taken care of, we were free to go. We were out by 9 p.m. Nice.

A little bit about his name, Jared Carter (we call him Carter). Jared Carter was a mormon missionary who, with his brother, Simeon, taught the gospel to Taylor's ancestor, John Tanner. Jared Carter actually healed John Tanner's leg-- a very significant thing, as he was told he must amputate it if he wished to live, but he refused. John Tanner went on to become instrumental in funding the building of the Kirtland temple. This is all significant to us because it is family history, and also because of my time spent in Kirtland. There is actually a really nice movie (about 20 minutes) about this story, which you can see here.

Now we are just learning to add baby to our routine. The boys seem to be adjusting well (and they have had lots of play dates, sleepovers at cousins' and Nana's, thank you, thanks you!). And so far, although I'm tired, I feel like we can manage this. Carter is a really pleasant, mellow baby. So far he doesn't spit up, seems to have a pretty calm tummy, sleeps rather well at night, and is just generally happy. We are happy, too.

Valentine's Day Party 2011

2011-02-16T23:36:00.000-08:00

We had a lovely party Saturday! We followed the menu, as planned...

The lemon minis were a hit, as usual (thanks for baking them, Melis!).

Chocolate with butter cream (thanks for baking them, Beth!) and TomKat toppers

The chocolate chip cookies with milk shots were my personal favorite, and were super popular. Em baked the cookies using this recipe
(note: she used an extra 1/2 cup of flour and they were the best ever!).
(Idea from Stephmodo, shot glasses purchased here.)

The sugar cookies were divine. I'm telling you, it doesn't get better than this recipe!

The drink table, complete with cherished heirlooms from Cookie--the decanter, the candy dish, and the napkins she sent me last spring. (My mom and I had to cry about it for a minute.)

Em and I sample the sparkling pomegranate juice.

Some of the kiddos (clockwise from top left): Mary enjoys a chocolate cupcake, Andrew takes a shot of milk (we did the hard stuff--whole milk!), Lily samples the goodies, Blaine shows me how he made his 'O' cookie into a 'C' cookie, Dean arrives, Simon and Henry check out the goods.

Shout out to my mom (thanks for bringing the raspberries every year, Mom) and my babe of a m-i-l (in a hat she felted herself, of course).

Just one of the perks about living in Southern Oregon--65 degree weather in February. The kids drew with chalk for ages and then retired to the park just a block away.

How we found the toy room and Roger after all of the guests departed!

We'd love to hear how your V-day parties went!

We love you!
Em and Anne

Christmas Eve and an evening at the salon

2011-02-16T10:39:00.005-08:00

It sickens me that I haven't posted anything since October. Looking through pictures this morning, I have to post a couple of random things...

For Christmas Eve we extended the traditional Cropper family Mexican dinner out and Talent Show/Nativity to include my family as well. We were so many people that we had to do the talent and Nativity portion to the church. It was a great event and I hope everyone loved it as much as I did.

Here Taylor and I are performing our talent: I sang Ingrid Michaelson's The Way I Am, accompanied by Taylor.

Blaine and Roger sang A Shepherd's Carol and Christmas Bells are Ringing. It was presh beyond belief.

Totally unrelated and almost two months later...

The other night I was reading with the boys upstairs. Rog went downstairs. Taylor was down there so I thought he'd see him. But Taylor didn't and thought he was still up with me. Anyway, we discovered him like this:

Naturally, all we could do was laugh our heads off and take a thousand pictures. And we had to buzz his gorgeous blonde hair, which absolutely kills me. He looked in the mirror after and said, "I look diffent." And when people ask him about his haircut he says, "It's growing."

Anyway, it looks like this baby is going to go full term. I haven't progressed much, which gives me time to get my sheets washed and house clean. :)

xo
anne

More like Cookie

2011-02-14T23:37:00.000-08:00

with Cookie at Cleveland's West Side Market, Spring 2004 font

I told you I'd tell you a little more about Cookie. I thought today was appropriate...

One day last fall I noticed that Cookie wasn't responding to my emails. Within a week or so we received news of her passing. The next day I found myself on the phone, making arrangements to get to Cleveland immediately.

So much of that quick visit to attend her funeral mass seems surreal. I was back in the place I'd served as a young Mormon missionary, only this time I was pregnant with my third son. And Cookie, one of the central figures of my 6 month stay in the city of Rocky River, was missing.

I was there less than 48 hours, but it was long enough to feel deeply the sorrow of a friend taken by cancer and the joy and love one human being brought into the lives of everyone around her.

I was reminded of that love when I stayed up late talking to Cookie's daughter, Holly, and watched her all weekend, courageously filling the role of matriarch of a large extended Italian family. I was reminded of it when I greeted Cookie's mother, Rose (who is nearly 100!), and wept that she had to lose her young daughter. I thought of Cookie's love as I hugged her husband, Nazih, and felt speechless and unable to convey how I felt for him. The way Cookie loved people was celebrated again and again--I felt it as I talked with her son, hugged her grandchildren, listened to the Priest who led the mass, observed co-workers (she'd been a nurse) as they spoke of the tender care she gave patients. I felt the way she loved people as her eulogy was given and then a letter from her was read, telling us of the joyous life she'd had and 'not to cry for her.'

But I think the most poignant examples of the way Cookie loved came as Holly showed me all of the flowers that had been delivered. Of course there were dozens of gorgeous arrangements--from family members, dear friends, old co-workers. But four of the flower arrangements really stood out.

One from the hairdresser--a darling man Cookie had been a loyal client of for decades.

One from the dry cleaners--where Cookie had been such a longstanding customer that she kept a tab.

One from the mailman--who Cookie had always left bags of chips and chocolates for with her outgoing mail in the mailbox.

And one from the staff at Caribou Coffee--where she and her sweetheart, Nazih, had spent hours each week reading and talking and being together.

Cookie loved Valentine's Day. And I find that so fitting, because she was so good at loving. This year as I celebrate, I am trying to be more like her. It's not just about kisses and chocolate and romance. It's about my little children. It's about my friends. It's about my neighbors. Maybe it's even about my mailman.

It's about more love.

Happy Love Day,
xoxo
anne

Planning for Valentine's Party 2011

2011-02-01T23:38:00.000-08:00

People keep looking at me shockingly when I tell them I am indeed hosting my annual Valentine's Day party this year. (So what if I go into labor while I'm serving lemon cupcakes??) I couldn't cancel this year. I couldn't because it's tradition. More importantly, I couldn't because Cookie, my darling friend and the woman who began this tradition, lost the battle with cancer in September, so I feel like it's never been more important to host a party that celebrates love.

I'll tell you a little more about Cookie on another day, but for today, here are some photos from last year's party, plus some ideas for this year's party to get your wheels spinning. (What? You weren't planning on hosting a V-day party? Hopefully I can change your mind. I think it's the best tradition of the year!)

I keep it pretty simple. No meal, just sweets.

Last year's spread included mini lemon cupcakes with lemon cream cheese frosting and fresh raspberries on top. (These were the biggest hit and I am definitely serving them again this year.)

I use this Ina Garten recipe, but even if you just use a lemon cake mix, they are still amazing, thanks to the frosting:

Beat 6 T softened butter, 9 oz. softened cream cheese, and 3 tsp. lemon zest with mixer until light and fluffy. Gradually beat in 4 1/2 cups powdered sugar.

Next in the lineup were chocolate cupcakes with pink butter cream frosting and brownie hearts.

I've mentioned before that I'm not above cake mixes. I use a devil's food mix for these. For butter cream frosting, memorize this ratio (it makes perfect butter cream every time!): 1 stick butter to 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar to 1 T milk. (Mix the butter and sugar and then add the milk.) For 24 cupcakes, you'll want to at least double that recipe. (I triple it since I pipe on such a huge layer of frosting!)

For the brownie hearts, just bake a brownie mix, but in a large sheet pan so they're thinner. Once cooled, cut hearts out with a cookie cutter. Use toothpicks to anchor them in the cupcakes.

The final player last year were these red velvet cupcakes.

I have to say, even though I think these little cake toppers were the cutest ever, I wasn't in love with my cakes. (If anyone out there has a killer red velvet recipe, do share! I've all but given up after several failures...)

This year, in honor of our dear Cookie, I thought it only fitting that I include cookies on the menu.

So I'll be serving:

lemon mini cupcakes with raspberries
chocolate cupcakes with chocolate glaze or butter cream
sugar cookies with glaze
(this is the only sugar cookie recipe I trust and I like this one for the glaze)
chocolate chippers with milk shots

{I'll be sure to post a recap with pics!}

Happy Valentining!

xoxo,

anne

And...here's something fun! To help you with your own Valentine's Day party, TomKat Studios is offering up a darling giveaway today! Scroll right on down and enter to win!

Dear Diary...We're Down to the Wire

2011-01-20T23:40:00.001-08:00

Sometimes I feel really sad that I have all but forsaken my personal blog in my efforts to Bloom. Mostly because it is, for the most part, the only form of journaling I do, which means I haven't had much in the way of a journal for a while. For example, I have hardly written down anything about this 3rd pregnancy of mine. I haven't jotted down how much harder it has been physically. How the nausea came sooner, lasted longer, and came with more fervor this time. How my round ligament pain started early and has persisted all along the way. How this time I realized that I don't have to wake Taylor up at 2 a.m. to rub my cramping legs, I just have to get out of bed and walk a few laps around the downstairs until they subside. How a big bowling ball belly doesn't feel quite as charming and cute as the first two times around, but I've finally embraced it. How I finally understand why women give up wearing stilettos and opt for flats. And how I'll never say again: "What is up with pregnant women walking funny?" It's all been harder this time. But I always try to remember that I shouldn't complain. I've never been on bed rest or hospitalized. I don't even throw up, I just feel like it. So I'm pretty lucky, let's be honest.

But really, after journaling some of those thoughts, I'm not sure what else I would say. Life rolls swiftly along, and my job is to keep up with it--as gracefully as I can possibly manage. Thankfully I have more energy lately. It must be the nesting kicking in. I'm painting and decorating and organizing and de-junking with gusto. It feels really good. I want my nursery ready and my life organized and my family well-fed. I want my boys' lives to be exciting and full of learning and adventure. I want to perform all of my church and community jobs energetically and lovingly. I want to keep nesting and creating and serving and hosting until the moment I go into labor. I am doing my best, but don't get me wrong. It's not all chocolate cake and pink ribbons. Some days I'm still in my big, gray, elastic-ankled (more like elastic-Kankled) sweats when my husband gets home from work. Some days Blaine is 2 hours late to preschool. Some days I yell and then cry at my dear little children because they are making mischief and I'm not able (more like not willing) to control my response. And things are getting scratched off the to-do list left and right. Like making my own hospital gown. I guess I'll just have to have another set of newborn photos with me in an ugly gown with 'central laundry' stamped on the front. And the rainbow velour living room chair that I despise will have to remain rainbow velour a while longer because I just can't tackle a slipcover right now. I think I've finally learned to let go of things that don't really matter.What's really in the forefront of my 'preparing for baby' mind frame is my children. Are they ready for this? Most of the time they are happy, wrestling, snuggling, donut-munching, imagining, carefree little boys. But there are struggles. Blaine got his claws out this morning and hit me in the eye. I cried heartily. Partly because it hurt pretty bad but mostly because I wish I knew how to help him put his claws away permanently. And Rog is probably upstairs peeing in his Thomas the Train undies as I write this. Sometimes in the midst of all the chaos I look at Taylor and dramatically exclaim, "We are about to add another one! What are we thinking?!"

Thankfully, Taylor and I have never been more in love. He makes me feel like I matter and that I'm succeeding at my job. He helps me paint walls that he thinks don't need painting. He thanks me for the things I do for him. He makes me feel beautiful. And he is the best teammate imaginable. So that makes me feel stronger. When he holds me as I sob about Blaine's claws, I know I am not running this marathon alone.And, throughout all of this, my little babe nudges me from inside. Nudge, nudge he says. And I tap back and give him a little rub. It seems that as my belly grows, so does my love for him, so does my capacity to do all of this.

He's almost here. And I think we'll be ready.

Sparkleful

2010-12-09T23:42:00.000-08:00

Sometimes God gives you Sunday. He might sandwich it in between two of the moldiest slices of bread imaginable, but it's there--and it tastes so good...

Explanation:

Last Saturday was not our favorite day. We woke up excited to drive our children up into the mountains to play in the snow and cut down an evergreen tree for Christmas. We adore this tradition and love making it a part of their childhood. But the boys were cranky and disrespectful and it felt like all morning they were yelling at us or each other. We almost called the outing off about 42 times. (What is the point of doing something like that for your kids when they're acting so ungrateful?) Thankfully, the outing was enjoyable. We were grateful that Taylor is strong as a Clydesdale and the boys loved 'rescuing baby' trees that had been covered in snow. Of course by the evening they were pitching fits again, and we couldn't get them into bed fast enough. We went to bed exhausted, wondering why parenting is so gosh darn hard.

Like the brightest ray of sunshine, Sunday was a completely different day. Our children sat quietly in church and went merrily off to their Sunday school classes. We spent the afternoon at home together--a welcome respite as many of our Sundays are crammed with meetings (Taylor and I lead the youth group in our congregation) or family gatherings. We snacked on 7-layer bean dip and listened to Christmas music, decorated our Christmas tree and began preparing latkes for dinner.

All day long Blaine's behavior was so saccharine that all Taylor and I could do was look at each other with raised eyebrows. Gone was our arguing, willful boy of Saturday. Here, in all his splendor, was a boy that could not stop smiling about our sparkling ornaments, a boy who could not be more excited about reading of Jesus' birth.

Roger exclaimed, "Ooo, dat's sparkleful!" as he gazed at the tree. Then he hopped like a bunny around the living room for two hours solid.

Blaine said things like, "Rog, could you please pass me that ornament hook?" and "Rog, would you like to do this one?" and, when I fixed a broken ornament, "Oh, Mom, you always know what to do!" and "What would Christmas be without trees and Jesus?"

Every word was sweet and thoughtful, every embrace tender. After a candlelight dinner of latkes, sour cream, and applesauce, chased with peppermint hot chocolate, it was off to bed and all smiles. It was, sincerely, the perfect day.

Then I spent much of last night up with a child who proceeded to melt down much of today. Both boys were ornery, impatient, and impolite. As I sat and folded laundry this evening, all I could do was sob. Partly out of exhaustion, partly our of frustration, and partly out of gratitude--gratitude that God gave me Sunday. It was a glimpse of what all of this is for--harmony and fun and respect and love in a family. It was sparkleful.

I think if we didn't have days or even moments like that, we'd all want to throw in the towel sometimes. But, thanks to those glimpses, we push forward, looking for more sparkle.

--anne

My Three Sons

2010-10-27T08:33:00.003-07:00

"Trick or Tomato!" The boys practice trick-or-treating in the tomato plants...

When I started revealing my pregnancy, everyone--of course--sent girlie wishes my way. It's no secret that I want a daughter (or two...). I want to put bows in her hair and dress her in homemade skirts and colorful tights and fake uggs. I want to sign her up for ballet class and make her room look cuter than anything in the Land of Nod catalog. I want to talk to her about boys and virtue and qualities to look for in a husband. I want to help her plan her wedding.

BUT. When I got pregnant, although I knew I had a 50/50 chance, I didn't allow much thought like that. One day I went through the bin of girl clothes I've collected and almost threw up out of hope mixed with possible disappointment, so I put it back in the closet and didn't look back. I told everyone I would love to have a girl, but was planning for a boy. And I really was. I pretty much constantly had in my head it was a boy.

So when the good doctor pointed out his goods during the ultrasound, I looked at Taylor and said, "I told ya."

Poor Blaine, also present for the ultrasound, sobbed uncontrollably and still argues that it's a girl. Poor little guy really wants a sister.

But I didn't cry. I just couldn't. What is there to cry about? I am having a baby. And so far the baby looks really healthy. Both of those facts are totally miraculous. After having restrictive health problems for a year, I feel so blessed to conceive and have a healthy pregnancy, that I just couldn't be happier. Sincerely. I told God I'm not going to ask him for a girl. He knows my heart, and if I'm supposed to raise daughters he'll send them my way. But as long as I have friends struggling with infertility and miscarriages and babies born with disabilities and best friends dying of cancer, I just can't pray for a daughter. I'm blessed as it is and I have too many other important things to pray for.

Now, don't get me wrong. I cried when I found out Roger was a boy. I'm not some perfect person. If you've had multiple sons and cried about it, I don't think you're silly. I think I had one night after this ultrasound, in fact, in which I cried to Taylor about crib bedding because 'I just really wanted to decorate a girlie nursery...' It's just that there are so many people in my life right now that are really going through tragic things, that I can't be sad about a baby, and a healthy one at that.

And that's that. I don't mean to sound self-righteous or anything like that. It's perfectly normal to feel disappointed when things don't go how you dream they'll go. And, I'm sure, if I ever have an ultrasound tech show me a girl on the screen, I'll want to shout it from the rooftops. But right now I just feel really grateful to be having another baby. And here's the other thing--I really love little boys. Blaine and Rog wrestle and snuggle and chase (and hit and fight...) and play and play together. When one wakes up earlier than the other, he begs to wake up brother. When Blaine goes to preschool, Rog is a lost little soul. They are presh, and I can't wait to see them with a new little babe.

Argh...

2010-10-19T11:02:00.004-07:00

It's so frustrating to be so behind in journaling. Partly there has been a LOT going on. And partly that lot is kind of going to be hard emotionally to recap, so I think I've been subconciously avoiding.

For today, while Blaine is at school for one more hour and Rog is sitting by me playing with his watermelon gum, I'll take a minute to show you some cute pics and make a list that will hopefully motivate me to recap soon.

1. What happens when Rog helps me bring the groceries in. Randomness strewn across the entry, celery out... Usually he ends up sitting down and opening up the strawberries and munching them while I finish. I love how excited Rog gets to help me do chores like this and his 2 1/2 year old way of executing them.

2 and 3. A Saturday evening I found charming. Indian Summer weather. Taylor pulled all of our tomato plants out and then sorted through what was still good and what rotted while we were out of town. I cut dahlias and the boys helped in their own special ways (i.e. Rog sorted through green tomatoes and Blaine rode his trike). I love growing things and I love that we do it all together.

4. Rog, asleep at Grandma Tillie's. Presh little soul.

And now a list of things I need to write about:

*My thoughts on having three sons.

*Our trip to Utah

*My trip to Ohio

to all three of you who still check this blog-- I love you. :)

quotables

2010-08-31T11:16:00.004-07:00

So here are some of our latest hilarious quotables, along with totally unrelated but cute pictures.

Taylor, upon discovering one of Rog's awesome messes (can't remember if it was food spilled, marker on the table, or toys dumped out...): "Rog, why did you make such a mess?!"

Rog: "'Cause I yike to!"

Blaine and Rog are both obsessed with stuffed animals. When I check on them before I go to bed at night, it's hard to find them in their beds because all of their plush friends are covering them. My favorite thing about this is that there are multiples of certain species and Blaine has come up with a way to distinguish between them. For example, we have Monkey and Monkey the Younger and Elephant and Elephant the Younger. Awesome.About a week ago Blaine appeared in our bed in the middle of the night. As always, he scooted close to me, and started to take my pillow. I lifted my head up, whined about my headache and how I couldn't sleep because Blaine was in my spot to a comatose Taylor, and flopped back down on my belly in desperation. Blaine, still mostly awake, quietly reached his arm up and proceeded to scratch my back for five minutes. It was pretty much the cutest thing ever. Warmed my heart and put me right to sleep.

Another morning, when I was complaining to Blaine that I was still tired he handed me his best friend, Monkey, and said, "Here Mom. Monkey always helps me sleep."
The other day in the car Blaine announced he is going to be an astronaut when he grows up. Taylor explained that he will have to learn a lot of math and go to a lot of school to be an astronaut. "Oh, I know a lot of math!" Blaine assured us. "Watch this! 1,2,3,4..." And on he went. So Taylor tried to stump him with story problems. "Blaine. Let's say there are 8 cookies and we have to share them with everyone in our family--me, Mom, you, and Rog. How many cookies can we each have?" Without a breath, Blaine shouts out, "2!" OK Blaine, to NASA you go!

A few days ago Blaine asked me the opposite of the word 'include.' I told him that it is 'exclude' and he wondered why it isn't 'unclude.' Anyway, I didn't know if he even understood, but then Saturday I asked Blaine to pick up all of the snuffed animals before he could paint. He came down the stairs announcing, "Mom, I cleaned up all of the animals, excluding Rog's monkey."

Maui Re-cap

2010-08-22T16:08:00.004-07:00

I'm trying to sort out my busy life. Here's my first attempt at journaling in months.

Hawaii was, needless to say, amazing. I was totally not excited about going--probably just anxiousness/guilt about leaving the boys. But as soon as the plane landed my attitude changed! We spent the week in Wailea, the southern part of Maui. Taylor had to work a bit for a few days, but we still managed to fit in a lot of snorkeling, swimming with sea turtles, lying on the beach, reading, getting massages in oceanside cabanas (!), eating eating eating, and enjoying the feeling of just us. It was heaven.

Things I'm missing most: the smell of plumeria everywhere, sleeping in and eating breakfast in bed every day, and swimming together at Big Beach.

2010-07-20T22:59:00.002-07:00

Taylor and I are home from Maui and I'm working on uploading pictures to show you. In the mean time, have you seen the new Old Spice campaign? Taylor and I can't stop watching this commercial. It is hilarious and oh, by the way, it was shot in one take with almost no computer animation. Amazing. Love it.

How can you get mad at that face?

2010-07-09T13:32:00.005-07:00

After screaming and crying for chocolate chips, and being denied, Rog managed to pull the freezer door open himself. He quickly dragged a barstool over, climbed up, pulled the bag of open chocolate chips off the top shelf of the freezer, and dug in.

And then proceeded to say,

"Did it myseff! Is dat cool, Mom?"

ever-quotable Blaine

2010-07-09T11:10:00.000-07:00

"Mom, do you see that human over there at the park? I want to be friends with him."

and

B: Mom, does blood float?

Mom: Um, I don't know, honey.

B: I guess I should ask Jesus. Or Grandma Tillie. She's the oldest person I know.

The Wedding Cake

2010-07-08T11:55:00.004-07:00

I've told so many people about the wedding cake Taylor made for Ian and Ashleigh's wedding, and everyone wants to see a picture. Here it is!
I have to say, I've never been more impressed with one of Taylor's cakes. And that's saying a lot. This was an enormous undertaking, and I now completely understand why cakes of this magnitude cost $600-$1000. And not only did it look beautiful, but it was so delicious, too (not always the case with wedding cakes, you know?). The bottom and top layers were a homemade yellow cake with raspberry filling and vanilla bean buttercream. YUM. The middle two layers were homemade chocolate cake with a ganache filling and orange chocolate buttercream. Double YUM.
Just to give you an idea of the size of this thing, here Taylor is shaping one of the cakes for the bottom tier. This cake is 16 inches in diameter. Seriously, the pan looks like a sled! Each layer (except the top) was made of three cakes, each cut in half. In other words, each tier was 6 layers. The top was just two cakes (otherwise it was going to look like Abe Lincoln's hat), so just 4 layers. For a grand total of 22 layers!
What I wish I had more pictures of:
1. The process--Taylor's cake blueprints, the dozens and dozens of eggs, the jillion pounds of butter, Taylor carving and shaping, and frosting, and molding. Unbelievable.
2. Me freaking out when Taylor put the cake in our trunk to drive to the wedding.
3. Getting to a road closure and me insisting that Taylor ask the cops to move the barricade so we could get through. (As that was a no-go, we moved the cake from our trunk to Taylor's lap. he sat in Tanner's van with it on his lap as Melissa drove him up the steepest hill imaginable.)
4. Taylor and Tanner in their handsome black suits, carrying the 55 pounder in to the wedding venue in amazing Lithia Park.
5. The long line of wedding guests waiting to sink their teeth into a slice of cake.

It was a stressful process. I developed in ulcer just watching. Taylor, as always, remained totally calm. He's amazing.

just so much

2010-06-11T09:32:00.004-07:00

There's just so much to write about. I've yet to post about my fabulous Valentine's Party or Blaine's 4th birthday. I have zillions of great pics from Ian's wedding on Saturday, plus my rad birthday. Not to mention my review of Glee: Season 2 (It's more mixed than you might think.) But I still have an open house to help with this weekend, and a lot of other things going on. So, lest you think I've fallen off the planet once again, I leave you with Blaine's top quotes of the week:

Mom, there's two kinds of p's! One that is potty talk and one that's a letter!

and

Mom, how do you say indigo in Chinese?

Tall, fashion-concious snowmen

2010-05-17T22:39:00.002-07:00

Here's something cute. Tonight was Family Night. As usual, we started with the Snowman Song. Right before we started, Blaine yelled, "Wait! I have an idea!" He then disappeared into our room for a while and re-entered wearing my orange Michael Kors wedges. "Now I can be the tallest snowman!" he declared. At which point Rog ran into our room, reappearing with my polka-dotted flats. Didn't quite get the idea, but dang what a doll. Here they are--tall, tall, tall.
It was pretty much the cutest thing ever.

And here they are, being small, small, small. Classic.

What the April?

2010-05-05T10:00:00.001-07:00

April was busy and good.

EASTER

Egg dying, baskets, Make Way for Ducklings, General Conference, grape juice, asparagus, saving plenty of plastic eggs for little brother...

PEAR BLOSSOM RACES

Deliriously silly and dramatic at 7 a.m.

Taylor looks like the J Crew model I cut out of catalogs in high school.

Running to Christina's music because my ipod wasn't charged and I threw a fit about running without music. Good thing for Beyonce's Survivor. "I'm not gon' give up either, Beyonce!"

Opting for the 5K this year=good decision

The real runners--Taylor, Christina, Brian, and Steven--ran the 10 mile.

Rog's grin=cheesier than the nips

JAIME'S WEDDING

the hostess apron I made for her shower gift--maybe my favorite yet

the beaming bride, at the beach bonfire the night before

Jaime worked the vintage glam look. Totally gorgeous. Don't mind the ginormous scaffolding (for cleaning) on the beautiful San Diego temple.

groomsmen in vans

bridesmaids in handmade-by-Jaime feather hair pieces

A few shots of the reception--on the beach in Del Mar

getting ready to catch Danny for a pic

VISIT WITH ANDY AND LISA

Plenty of Taylor's obsession (pinkberry), holding that darling baby Gretta, shopping at the Grove (LA) and the Promenade (Santa Monica), and chatting it up. Heavenly.

Farmers Market (eat Brazilian, shop, eat Japanese, shop, eat donut, shop=greatest day ever!)

Santa Monica Pier

In other April news... Taylor saved us from a house fire (you probably saw that on Bloom), my health is improving, it rained all month long, we are preparing for my b-i-l, Ian's wedding, Glee is back on (though I think they're taking teenage sexuality too far), Seth Aaron won Project Runway (hallelujah!), and my sister, Liz, moved to Santiago, Chile.

Officially ready for sunshine,

Anne

Writing it down

2010-03-25T12:00:00.003-07:00

This is a post about my boys. First of all, how cute is this pic? We ground wheat on Monday to make calzone dough. Do you have a wheat grinder? Does it sound like a jet? Ours does.

We are in the phase of life in which everything Blaine and Roger say is so dang cute and funny that I can't write it all down fast enough. (We are also in the phase of life in which at least once a week I am so exhausted of breaking up fights and dealing with whining and sassing that I'm ready to throw in the towel. Just to be clear.)(Um, sorry for the tangent, but how impressive is this tower? Completely perfect color and shape patterns--I did not help AT ALL. This was completely Blaine's creation. It blew my mind.)

So anyway, today you get a smattering of quotables.

At the grocery store with my boys (who are unbelievably good at the store--please never let me forget that)...

Blaine: "Ooh, Mom! Can we please get some of those things that look like palm trees?!" (artichokes)

and

"Mom! I've never had one of those purple things before!"

"That's an eggplant. Would you like to get an eggplant?"

"Yes! I have to try new things!"

and

"Mom are you going to eat some of my kiwis?"

"Oh, maybe. I'm not a huge fan of kiwi."

"But Mom! You have to try new things!"

(thanks, Green Eggs and Ham!)

One of my favorite Blaine-isms is that he got the notion of 'google' being a very large number from his cousins. Of course his cousin, Mary, calls it 'goo goo' and Blaine calls it 'goo goo goggles' (think Dr. Seuss's ABC book!)

So it goes something like this:
"Mom, can I have some chocolate chips?"

"Just one."

"But I need goo goo goggles chocolate chips!"

But, with Blaine there is one over-arching, end all, defining thing in his life right now.
HE IS A T-REX.

No, seriously. He stomps everywhere. He has claws. Sometimes he makes himself a tail. He gets furious when I won't paint him black (like the T-Rex on Fantasia--the movie that started this obsession).

He told me recently that when he's older he'll be a real T-Rex and then he's moving away to Fantasia with Mary Cropper (his favorite human). And she's the only one who's coming because 'I only like Mary.'

I asked, "But I will be so lonely without you."

His quick reply: "You can watch movies, Mom."
Then there's Rog. Yes, he really fell asleep in the middle of calzone dinner.

This boy has dozens of new words and phrases each week, and the way he talks is endearing to no end.

My favorite game we play usually starts when I'm changing his diaper:

Me: you're a stinky boy!
Rog: no you a tinkaboy!

and then I start taking some liberties like...

Me: you're beautiful!
Rog: no you booful!

Me: you're awesome!
Rog: no you om!

It's pretty fun.

I like my boys.
A lot.

Two

2010-03-18T09:05:00.005-07:00

We had to postpone celebrating Rog's birthday, since we still had the sickies at the blue house on his real one. As fate would have it, the day we had his cupcakes scheduled for was his worst day on record. He was up at 5 a.m. screaming at me, unsatisfied by any of my offerings. He wouldn't sit through more than 30 seconds of church, so I spent an hour circling the building with him. He was irrational and sassy and TWO all day.

Thankfully, he and I got some sleep in the late afternoon, so we were both rational enough to celebrate his existence. Because darn, it's a really darling existence.

While Rog and I napped, Taylor the cake master (honestly, I keep trying to tell him to go into business) was at work.

(Actually, really simple stuff. Flat frosting tip for body, tootsie roll feet and nose, starburst face with mike-n-ike eyes.)

I know that was a lot of nearly identical pictures, but I am so enamored by my three handsome boys that I couldn't help myself.

Of course Blaine threw a huge fit that he didn't get the cupcake with the face on it.
"Show me how the piggies eat, Rog!" (He did this totally of his own accord. Funny boy.)

monday (with a post-edit)

2010-03-15T17:55:00.004-07:00

I had another health setback yesterday.

Today I shuffled around the house in my hideous gray sweats and turquoise waffle shirt, sans bra. I let the house stay messy and thought a lot.

I read the perfect article for me today. It was all about life's trials. After reading it, I thought a lot about my attitude for the past 7 months. I don't think I've been 'Why me?' about my health, but I have definitely felt like 'it's a righteous desire to want to be healthy. when will i be?'

A little impatient, perhaps.

Today I am want to say,

Dear God,

Thank you for my life. I am mostly healthy and today I have no pain. I have sunshine and daffodils. I have two little boys in blue jammies digging in the dirt and eating yogurt on the front porch and giggling and chasing each other and exuding love and life. I have my husband home again. Falling asleep with his arms around me again is the best feeling in the whole world. I will be grateful for what I have and trust in your timing for me and my family.

"No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God...and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire."

--Orson F. Whitney

*post-edit: Taylor says I have to stop being so cryptic about my health problems so everyone doesn't think I'm dying. I have something wrong with my urinary tract and no one can figure it out. It's sometimes painful, mostly frustrating.

Oscars and more

2010-03-09T14:41:00.002-08:00

OK so how pretty is Sandra Bullock anyway? Loved her dress, especially loved her hair and makeup. I was so inspired that I am wearing pink lipstick today instead of my usual savex lip balm. Lots of great dresses this year. But. Honestly, I was so bored. None of the performances were especially exciting, Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin were good, and Ben Stiller dressed as an avatar was pretty hilarious, but overall, bor-ing.

Still, I am obsessed with the red carpet. And being famous. As in, I really wish I were on the red carpet Sunday night.

Anyway, I was super excited this:
Meryl Streep was wearing a gown by Chris March.
Yes. Chris March of Project Runway season 4.
Here's the gown (she also wore Chris March to the Golden Globes):

Here's Chris, in case you don't remember him. He is hilarious. He came in 4th place that year (actually, Taylor and I are watching this season on DVD and it's totally-in Christian Siriano's words-FIERCE). Aren't you just so proud of him that Meryl's wearing his work?! Love it.
And, on an unrelated topic:
After reading Breaking Dawn in 2 days while we were sick, I am a little bit excited for Eclipse to come out. In fact, I'll be seeing Remember Me this Friday, partly because I am so excited to see the Eclipse trailer. (Look, Joan, I'm slowly coming out of the closet about how much I like Twilight!) So, Robbert Pattinson has been on the brain. (I'm too lazy to link to all that stuff. If you don't know what I'm talking about, google!)

Then, the other day in my car, Nickel Creek popped up on my ipod. As I listened to Chris Thile sing I realized something. He and Robbert P are total twinners. No wonder I like Robbert so much (Chris Thile was the object of my obsession through much of college).
See for yourself:
Chris
Robbert
So fun.
And while he will never reach Chris Thile status, Robbert is quite a musician himself.

OK well now I have to go get Rog to stop crying. He is such a grump lately.

loves

March, sickness, vampires, gratitude

2010-03-02T11:16:00.004-08:00

Holy smokes. Hello, March. Mmm. March. I love you.

Don't be too fooled by the above pictures. Only yesterday did I finally get enough energy back to take down valentine's and put up my green.

We have been sick. Rog and me. For three days we sprawled out upstairs doing nothing but watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (boys), reading about vampires (me), barfing, changing diapers, washing pukey clothes and blankets, and sharing cups of 7-up and Powerade. (Taylor was in Park City, UT, on business.)

On Sunday morning I called my mom and asked for a pep-talk. "I'm so tired. I was up in the night helping Roger throw up in his sleep and then Blaine was up super early. I can't stomach anything. I have no energy. I feel like a train wreck. What do I do?"

After watching her other local grandchildren, picking up an elderly man for church, teaching Sunday School, and fixing dinner for my dad, she swooped in to the blue house. She cleaned up all the play doh. She swept my kitchen floor. She did all the dishes. And then? She got on her hands and knees to wipe down my entire kitchen floor. I kid you not. Then it was upstairs. She cleaned up all the toys and helped the boys do puzzles and read stories while I lay (lie?) (layed?) (lied?) on the floor trying not to vomit. Then she took Blaine (my unbelievably hearty child who never catches these darn bugs) home for a movie, ice cream, and a sleepover. Angel mother, I know.

Saddest news of all. Now my mom has it. Where is the justice in that? So sad. I love you, Mom. I'm really sorry you got it.

Now here are some things I have to say.

1. I was pretty devastated to wake up sick on Saturday morning and find that Rog had thrown up in his bed overnight. So sad. I couldn't believe I was all alone and sick. How could I take care of a sick babe? But, even though Tay was gone, I was so not alone. Mary Anne dropped off powerade. Jessie took care of all my church youth responsibilities. Em held down the fort at Bloom. Melis called or texted me every day. "What do you need? What can I bring over?" Meds, movies, soup, popcicles. Melanie sent over 7-up, soup, juice. Charles and Tanner came to administer a priesthood blessing. Even though I wished for healthier times, I could not not feel love and gratitude through every minute of the experience.

2. I was also grateful that my boys were happy to watch Mickey all day. Because I sincerely couldn't.do.anything. And so I read Breaking Dawn, all 750 pages of it. It was the perfect escape. I get kind of embarrassed to admit that I like those books, because they sound so silly when you're trying to explain the plot to someone. "...And then she is torn between her love for the vampire and the werewolf, but she wants to become a vampire, and..." See? Silly. But it made my weekend bearable. So, thanks Stephenie M.

3. The best news of all is that Taylor is en route as I write this. For home. And he makes Edward Cullen look like chopped liver.

4. Cutest/saddest image of the weekend:

the swirling thoughts in my head

2010-02-11T11:23:00.006-08:00

(before the haircut. that chair is sickening. i love that blaine is obsessed with Berenstain Bears. how could i be so ungrateful?)

It is 11:23 and I'm still in my green sweats and gray hoodie. I have my fuggs on, too, because I had to go outside to take some photos of our new camelias. But I should take them off because I don't have socks on. And, in case you didn't know, stinky feet are a problem of mine. Gross.

I'm thrilled to watch my boys play together. Of course every few minutes I have to run upstairs because someone is screaming about something. But then they go back to working together on legos or putting all of the wooden animals in the mini-ark and I love it.

I need to spend tomorrow cleaning. Really cleaning. I am getting ready for cupcake party 2010 on Saturday (are you coming? didn't get a fancy invitation? that's 'cause i don't send them out. this is your fancy invitation.).

A couple days ago I was having some major internal struggles. Not feeling satisfied with my life, craving more excitement. Then I prayed and I realized that I was being completely ungrateful. I felt ashamed. I told the Lord I was sorry for my ingratitude and started loving my life again. Prayer works. Amen.

I got really blunt bangs last weekend. I'm still working on styling them. My mom says, 'whatever you like.' Taylor says, 'whatever you like.' You know what that means. ;)

Yesterday I helped Emily design her living room. I gotta say, I think all the HGTV and Better Homes and Gardens is paying off, because I think it was a major success. Very cozy layout. High five, Em!

Yesterday was spent muchly in preparation for a big etiquette dinner with the youth in our church. They all looked so darling in their 'dressy casual.' Taylor and I are chaperoning a dance for our valentine's date, and you know what? We love it.

I have finally started making my bed every day. Whoa. It really does make a difference--I am converted.

OK. I have a pennant banner to sew and I need to go for a run. I'll probably watch an old episode of Glee while I run. As always. (Do you think I could guest star on Glee? Maybe?)

happy thursday.
xo

Update: Rog

2010-02-08T18:30:00.006-08:00

I've had a few requests for some babe updates. I was upset with myself when I looked through my files and had hardly any photos of the boys from the past month or so. I promise to do better!

Today you get the Rog update.

Rog is definitely almost two. He is perfecting his blood curdling scream. You never know if he is frustrated with the tower he's building, mad at his brother for stealing a lego, or having his toes bitten off my wolves. Seriously. He screams the same level of murder for everything. It's pretty awesome.

He is also perfecting the tantrum. He is impressively fast at throwing his body down on the floor. For the vertical version, he stomps one foot over and over. Honestly, it's hilarious and darling. We can't stop laughing when he does it, which, of course, infuriates him even more!

His vocabulary is ever growing and his voice darling. Though he's a bit tantrumy (see above) and still a pill about going to sleep, his face still melts me, and now his voice does too.

I think he may have some OCD! He becomes totally obsessed with things. Current obsessions:

1. gum (he searches my purse and the cupboards shouting 'gummy! gummy!')

2. Perfection (that awesome shapes game from my childhood. he is outstanding at it, and he begs for me to get it from the closet constantly)

3. Baby Dean (his one-year-old cousin. it is unbelievably cute to watch them interact.)

4. Birthday cake (he wants to blow out candles every 3 seconds. it's hilarious/drives me insane. 'cannels, mom! cannels! boh (blow)! cannels! birt-day keek! cannels! then he starts singing the song... we humor him often, as in the photo above--a candle in his tortellini soup ;)

The bottom line is this. Roger isn't a baby anymore! It's a little bit devastating. The other day he fell asleep in the car. When we arrived home I pulled him out and let him sleep for an hour on my chest. Holding a sleeping babe made me so happy. It had been too long.

p.s. for some reason, whenever I'm going to post something on Tuesday, I still feel the need to discuss some pop culture. So, let me say this. We saw Avatar in 3-D this weekend. And WHOA. This is me, bowing down to James Cameron. I'm not a huge movie-in-the-theater person. The cost usually motivates me to wait until a movie comes to Redbox. But sincerely, this movie is all (more?) it's cracked up to be. And seeing it in 3-D on the big screen was INCREDIBLE. If you see one movie in the theater this year, make it this one. Beautiful, inspiring, thought-provoking, completely original. Loved it, loved it.

I love Project Runway

2010-02-02T01:36:00.005-08:00

Sometimes inspiration hits. Like when I was thinking about a 'modesty' fashion show for a young women activity. Suddenly, lightening struck my brain and I came up with our own version of 'Project Runway.'

The girls split up into teams and had to design a modest formal.

We even had Mood Designer Fabrics. (The fabric: plastic tablecloths, crepe paper streamers, and napkins. Awesome.)

Come on, we even had a Macy's Accessory Wall! (I am still crushed that all the girls went for Jessies' shoes instead of mine. OK, Jessie has way cooler shoes than I do.)

After construction, we walked the runway. Yes, that is me in my pink, black, and yellow get-up. I got zero votes from the young men. ZERO! Crushed, again.

For any of you yw workers out there, this was a total blast. I highly recommend it.

And p.s. I love Project Runway. I love that Taylor loves watching it with me. We only wish we had watched the season with Christian Siriano! And last season Carol Hannah totally should have won instead of Irena, who is a totally rude, nasty person. And finally, I love Heidi Klum. Did you know that she has 4 children under the age of 6 and that she and Seal are darling?! Love her, love her.

getting personal

2010-01-31T22:09:00.004-08:00

It makes me so sad to think that I used to attend to this blog every day.

Now I feel like I owe some sort of giant update, but I don't have the mental energy for that.

I'm going to try to get back to it, because it's really the only form of journaling I am good at keeping up with anymore, and it breaks my heart to think of the last few months of my children's life ill-recorded.

I think it's partly because of my focus on Bloom, and partly because life is really busy lately. (Like was today a day of rest? Not so much. Sundays aren't what they used to be!) But also because a lot of my life for the last few months has been dealing with certain things that I haven't felt like blogging about. Not because I am a super private person. But because I haven't felt like people want to read super personal stuff about me. But then I remembered that this is a blog, which is basically an open diary, so if I get too personal for you, feel free to roll your eyes and click away.

Like I said, part of it is just busyness. Did you know, for example, that I am planning my annual V-day cupcake party? Want to come? Let me know and I'll give you the deets. And did you know that last week I was a mother of 6 while my bro and his wife were out of town? The photo above is a Saturday morning at Donut Country (2nd best donuts in Southern Oregon, 1st prize going to Puck's, of course) after I ordered all the kids around like a drill sergeant, making them clean the whole house. (Lizzy: "My mom never makes us clean the house." I am sure, Lizzy.)

And the other part is that I have some weird health issues going on. And all I really want to be happening in my body is growing a baby, but that just can't happen right now. So I've been going a little crazy for the last 5 months while we try to figure it out. And for some reason that whole thing has caused me to feel a little closed off and like I didn't want to write much for a while. But I miss writing about our family and our life. Because even though it isn't perfect right now, it's still really good, and whose life is perfect, anyway? And I don't want you to worry about me or feel sorry for me. There are way too many heart-wrenching things going on in the world right now for you to worry about me.

Anyway, at this moment I have way more respect for my friends who are brave enough to blog about things like cancer and infertility (neither of which am I dealing with). So anyway, to all 7 of you who still bother to check this blog, thanks for letting me talk.

Conan says

2010-01-23T15:46:00.002-08:00

I haven't even followed this whole NBC thing much, but I saw a clip of Conan's last show and was incredibly impressed with his class and sincerity. This part particularly inspired:

"Please do not be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, it's my least favorite quality. It doesn't lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get, but if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen. I'm telling you, amazing things will happen. I'm telling you. It's just true."

amen, Conan, amen.

Don't Go Wasting Your Emotion...

2010-01-19T15:22:00.005-08:00

In case I haven't been clear about this, I am obsessed with musicals. That's why GLEE, in my humble opinion, is the greatest show ever. EVER.

This Christmas Eve, Taylor and I decided to step it up a notch with our offering for the annual post-Mexican fiesta talent show.

We went out on a major limb. So major that I was sweating profusely by the time we were up.

The truth is, I want to be Lea Michele (of Glee). Or Amanda Seyfried (Mama Mia) would do. When I watch stuff like that, my heart wants to explode. It's not enough to watch; I sit there and dream about how exhilarating it would be to be on stage or in one of those shows, performing my guts out.

The major bummer is that I am totally not them. (i.e. in the talent/ability category.)

But I decided it's time to step it up in the risk and excitement department. So Taylor and I channeled our inner Glee for the talent show.

We performed 'Lay All Your Love On Me' (a la Abba/Mama Mia) for the whole fam damily.

As it turns out, Taylor was Prince Charming in his high school's rendition of Cinderella back in the day, so he is cool as a cucumber on stage. I was a nervous wreck and had to make him start all over again when I flubbed my lines the first time through.

It was a little rough, even the second time. But it was beyond fun!

You know how much I love my children and my quiet little life, but let's be honest, sometimes I just really crave excitement. You know, the kind of excitement I used to feel when dancing on stage or warming up for a volleyball match (those who know me well will understand that warming up before the match was the majority of my time on the court...)

And while I don't see 'Glee Cast' or Broadway in my future, I'm doing what I can.

And p.s. it's really fun to sing a lovey song like that on stage with your handsome husband.

**video coming soon!!!

A little bit about Sunday

2010-01-11T10:14:00.003-08:00

I made Taylor take this picture with me after we chaperoned a youth dance at our church on New Year's Eve. Nothing like ringing in the new year with four hours of watching teenagers stand around while the All American Rejects are playing. (Actually, it was quite fun. I, of course, got my dance on with all the girls and loved it tremendously.) Chaperoning the dance was my duty, as the president of our Young Women's organization. Taylor obliged. (What choice did he have?)

Then, yesterday, Taylor was called as the president of our Young Men's organization. So, now it's his duty, too.

After a busy day of church meetings, we pulled off a Chicken and Stove-top coup. First dinner and birthday cake (my brother, Brian's) at my family's house. Then, dinner and birthday cupcakes (baby Dean's) at Taylor's family's.

Taylor spent half of Saturday building Brian's cake. Brian is an anesthesiologist.
Slice of epidural, anyone?

Me: Still Alive. My Computer: Dead.

2010-01-06T01:04:00.004-08:00

That's right, I'm a lap-top killer.

Lesson you can learn from this? Don't blog in bed.

I smothered my fan with my down comforter and overheated that poor little sucker.

So now I've got a new computer, and don't think for a second that I'm allowed to take it anywhere cozy.

I have affinity (I am not stupid. This is my Napoleon Dynamitish way of saying 'a lot.') and one things to tell you and pictures (and videos!) to share.

So stay tuned. I am so back.

peace,
anne

Charity Auction at BLOOM

2009-12-09T14:36:00.002-08:00

Friends!

Looking for a way to provide service this holiday season? Here is a great opportunity. Starting Thursday, December 10th, there will be a charity auction at BLOOM to benefit Claire and Benson Skinner.

As explained by their parents, "Benson and Claire were born with a rare genetic disease in which their liver produces too much oxalate--called primary hyperoxaluria. Claire's condition has progressed much faster than Benson's. She has been on dialysis since she was 3 months old and is on dialysis 3 hours a day, 6 days a week. She is now on the waiting list to receive a combined kidney / liver transplant. It is expected Benson will eventually need similar transplants."

You can read more about the Skinners' experience HERE.

All proceeds from the auction at BLOOM will go directly to Claire's COTA (Children's Organ Transplant Association) account to help pay for her transplant. Please head over to BLOOM Thursday-Saturday for the auction!

Thank you!
xo
anne

Happy Turkeyversary

2009-11-25T21:18:00.003-08:00

Taylor took the day off work today so we could celebrate our anniversary doing something other than eating turkey with 30 other people. (Which is what we'll be happily doing on our real anniversary.)

We had Indian for lunch. Oh my curry, I love Indian. We ran errands. (It doesn't sound glam, but c'mon, do you think there is anything more fun that wandering around Target sans toddlers?) We explored some new-to-us antique and thrift stores. Taylor gasped audibly when he found a copy of the old hardback version of Atlas Shrugged that he's been pining away for. I got a milk glass pitcher and some beveled mirrors for my soon-t0-be collage. (Maybe the only thing more fun than bashing around Target with my husband is having a husband who likes to look at cool old stuff at thrift stores with me.)

Most of November is a blur. Taylor spent three weeks out of town, during which I had various ailments plaguing my body. I reminded myself every day of how minimal my pain was in the grand scheme of things. But you know what? Even smallish things can be hard and sometimes they really add up. By the end of three weeks of single motherhood and a lot of hurting, I was fighting hard to be cheerful every day. I thought a lot about something my friend, Lori, has taught me--that peace and pain can co-exist. And I remembered that we can't know joy without knowing pain. Opposition in all things. And I realized that I wouldn't appreciate all the suffering Jesus did for me very much if I never had any pain.

So tonight I am sitting here, healed of my dry socket and with my voice back and healing from some other issues, and I spent the whole day with my husband and my two boys were cheerful and darling all evening. And I feel like my happiness is effortless today and that makes me more grateful than I could have ever imagined a couple of months ago.

5 years of wedded bliss. Seriously.

And tomorrow I get to eat gravy and wear my newest shoes.

I love this week.

Halloween pics

2009-11-11T00:18:00.008-08:00

Oh this poor little neglected blog of mine.

Here's the dish. My husband is working a lot lately. (Someone's gotta make some sweet moolah while I'm playing patty-cakes all day.) (That's a reference to Napoleon Dynamite, in case you didn't catch it.) I seem to be developing dry socket, so it's back to the oral surgeon tomorrow. Awesome. And let's be honest, Bloom has become more of a priority for me lately. It's an important creative outlet for me.

ANYWAY. Better late than never, I'm going to show you some cute Halloween-ness.

The Wednesday before Halloween, the youth in our congegration at church always put on a rad carnival.

Rog in his little pumpkin suit with bear legs and diaper bum and little converse all-stars was pretty much killing me (and everyone).
The first weekend in October, Melis and I took our 6 kids to the mall. When we walked into Gymboree Blaine ran to this fuzzy caterpillar costume and put it on (nevermind it is size 6-12 months). He was so obsessed with it I broke down and bought it for him (let the record show, I never would have if it weren't for a sale and a coupon!). I've never seen him care so much about an article of clothing. Pretty much cute.
I had big costume plans but was busy helping set up the carnival, so I went with my fall-back farmer girl look. Good thing I kept my giant, baggy overalls that were uber cool to wear in high school back in the '90s. What in the heck were any of us thinking? What was Calvin Klein thinking, making them?

By Halloween night I was trashed from my wisdom teeth removal. (Talk about a bummer not to be able to eat candy!) We did a quick circle around the neighborhood, which seemed to suffice. Blaine had just as much fun passing out candy from the blue house. You'll note that this night he opted for the pirate digs from his costume box. (Good thing I bought you that caterpillar costume, kid.)So there you have it. I still have big plans to dress up as Marie Antionette. (And a very specific reason why.) And I probably won't wait until next Halloween. Stay tuned...

That kind of friend

2009-11-03T17:19:00.000-08:00

(Can you believe I made her wear a crown at her farewell feast? Don't you love her for humoring me?)

Dear Amy,

A couple of years ago, when we were still in Provo, my long-time friend, Kate, was over. After watching her help herself to some milk in my fridge I looked at Taylor and said, "I love friends like this. I love that Kate is comfortable enough here to do that."

When we left Provo I was fearful about a lot things. Friendship was one of them. I worried that I would be sad without my friends and that I wouldn't be able to find that sort of friend in my new home.

My first Sunday in church I sat in the mothers' lounge and nursed my little chub-a-lub, Rog. You were there, in lavender, nursing your babe. You have one of those sweet countenances. The type of peaceful smile that tells someone like me--she is a really nice person. (I don't have one of those faces. I notice those that do.) And I wanted to be your friend.

Not long after, I came to a mommy&me day at the park. You were there, protecting your darlingly freckled skin with your fabulous sun hat. You had three kids in tow, but didn't seem to be frazzled. I watched you patiently mother and gracefully socialize. And I wanted to be your friend.

The other day you came to pick up your children after their busy session of playing pirates at the blue house. You were in the middle of packing and cleaning and sorting and...ugh. It makes me tired just to write it. But you looked at me, and, as I told you about my needful preparations before the big oral surgery day, you looked around for a job to do. And then it happened. You went looking for my broom and--finding it--swept my hideous kitchen floor.

After you and your darlings left that day (what I knew to be the last time I'd see you dear Hills walk through that threshold), I thought of you and that broom. And I realized. You'd become that kind of friend.

Oh, dear Ame, I miss you already. I didn't think I could cry anymore about it, but writing this makes it bubble over yet again. We will not be the same without you. Thank you for being my friend.

XO,
Anne

Baz. I love thee.

2009-11-03T08:00:00.000-08:00

So here's the part where I fish for sympathy. I had my widsom teeth out Friday afternoon. Boo hoo. I know. But, despite being tired of mushy food, I am doing great. I heard horror stories. HORROR stories! So I am relieved to be feeling pretty well.

On Friday after work, Taylor came to my mom's to collect me and the boys. I had smoothie stains on my sweater, bloody gauze stuffed in my mouth, and a mostly numb face (thus the smoothie stains). I'm sure I was quite a vision for my love.

He scooped me up and took me home, stopping by the Red Box at Wal-Mart for a surprise. Not until the boys had been tucked in did I see what the movie was.

Ooh! I lit up when I saw the opening credits. AUSTRALIA! I'd been wanting to see it forever. We'd heard it was good. Good? NO! It was incredible! We loved it! I wondered why I hadn't heard more hype. I mean, seriously, I loved this movie. It has your scenery, your romance, your adventure, your great acting, your history...all put together by Baz Luhrman, who I happen to loooooove. It was magic.

It left me:

wondering why we don't learn more about Australia in world history

embarrassed that I didn't know more about the terrible things that happened to the aboriginals

wanting to plan a trip down under

loving Nicole Kidman, yet again

loving Hugh Jackman, yet again

I want this dress. You're gonna want one, too.

2009-11-02T17:03:00.001-08:00

Wow. I have amazing friends.

Exhibit A

Karaoke Stars and other trivia

2009-10-20T15:25:00.005-07:00

Happy B.day, Karen!

(Please note the 'No smoking, No Drinking, No cursing on stage' sign. Awesome.)

1. Last Thursday evening I went out with some friends to celebrate my friend, Karen's birthday. As it turns out, Karen is a friggin' amazing singer. During dinner, Karen recounted the stories of her two American Idol auditions. Then we went to Rumors Karaoke Bar to put her to the test. Oh. My. Gosh. Seriously, amazing. I don't know what those chumps at Idol were thinking, because let's get this one thing straight. They missed out.

We all died laughing about a group of Mormon ladies sauntering into a cheesy bar in downtown Medford and announcing we wouldn't be drinking. The lady at the bar: "Well you can't sing karaoke if you don't buy something." Us: "Oh, don't worry! We'll buy something." So we all ordered Shirley Temples, Julie slapped some cash down on the bar, and we marched back to choose our songs. So hilarious. Between all of us we have like 29 billion children and here we are at some random bar (thankfully not a slimy, smoky bar or anything) sipping ST's and singing our hearts out. It was SUCH a ball! I didn't really know what to expect going into Karaoke night, but it turns out it was serious soul candy! So fun. Don't you worry. I rocked me a little "I will Survive," "The Sweater Song" (with Amy), and "Cowboy Take me Away." Loved it.

2. Next. I love LOVE Glee. It has every element that Anne loves, all in one show!
a) MUSICAL!
b) sharp, biting humor
c) quirky charachters
It's like someone put 'Ed' to music. I LOVE IT!

3. Finally. Did you see Where the Wild Things Are this weekend? We did. We were not disappointed. LOVED it. Some things I wasn't expecting. First, it is not a kids' movie. I wouldn't take anyone younger than 10 or 12. It's both intense and deep. Second, I didn't expect to get so emotional. Within the first 10 minutes I was a disaster because there was an emotional scene between Max and his mother that I have lived with my own little wild thing many times before. And Max was acting out because he needed attention and love. Wwwhhoa. Serious wake-up call. Anyway, fabulous soundtrack, amazing costuming, great voices, great symbolism and parallels between the wild things' world and Max's world. We loved it.

As a bit of trivia, I recognized the wild thing, Judith's voice immediately. Anyone know who it was?

XO
Anne

Trivial run-down (it's been awhile.)

2009-10-13T14:13:00.003-07:00

(what I'm gleefully watching on my treadmill these days. thanks, abcfamily)

In trivial news:
-Finally got to see Julie & Julia. Loved it as much as I hoped for. Amy Adams, Meryl Streep, Stanley Tucci, Nora Ephron. Love you all.

-Also saw The Proposal. Thought the premise was cute. Love Sandra and Ryan. And then it got so, so silly! Too silly. And I can never look at Oscar (from The Office) in the same way again.

-Speaking of The Office (and silliness), was anyone else severely disappointed in the wedding episode? Seriously, what the heck? After a while, Taylor was like, "Wait, are we watching Mr. Bean or The Office?" Bummer.

-And do you want to hear something rad? I have a gajillion channels again. Because it was cheaper than my 24 channels (20 of which seemed to be home shopping). I heart Dish Network. And. AND! Do you know anyone with DVR on their treadmill? You do now! Running just got so much better! Taylor and I are loving it. (Note. Let me say for the record that Taylor hates the ugly dish on our house and also hates that we have that many channels. He is worried that it is going to ruin our life. But, as I told him the night of the installation, we are too busy to get sucked in. So far, so good. Phewf! Now Taylor will not be cross about this post. Because, you know, Taylor gets so cross about things...)

And finally, have you voted for your favorite photo yet? Get to Bloom! Voting ends tonight!

Another good day on the mish

2009-10-08T15:56:00.004-07:00

(Unrelated photo that I love: at the top of the chair lift at Sundance, UT)

I was just wiping the kitchen table for at least the 8th time today, when I thought about something my sister, Liz, has written about. How much time do I spend every day wiping something? (A table, a floor, a face, a bum.) And today--glory be--I just smiled at the thought of it.

I think because this week I am a new woman (did you read Sunday's post?). And I am remembering every day that wiping things is just a part of this glorious job we call motherhood.

I've written before about making mothering my mission. This afternoon I was out sweeping dirt from the street back onto our property--dirt and rocks that Blaine had thrown while I was inside checking on the cookies. The darling elders rode by on their bikes and Elder Huber offered a trade of sweeping for some water. I happily took him up on the offer, and threw in a peanut butter chocolate chipper for free. They thanked me for the water, told me about meeting some of my neighbors, and rode off just as cheerfully as they had arrived.

I thought about them while I was wiping the table just now. When you're on a mission, there is a LOT of monotony. There is a lot of work that seems fruitless. You knock on a lot of doors with no one behind them. But when there is someone there and he says, "Mormons? I'm your guy! Come on in!" (that is a direct quote, even ask my companion, Melody Coleman Odell!) your heart leaps and you know you would be willing to knock a million more doors just to get that response again.

And I will wipe my table a million more times to snuggle with Blaine like we did in my bed this morning or watch Rog triumphantly build a tower with blocks and then congratulate himself with a grin and round of applause. Seriously. A million more times.

p.s. Did you watch Nie on Oprah yesterday? She continues to inspire.
p.p.s. Along these same lines, we are getting some wonderful photo contest entries over at Bloom. Please send us your photos! This is going to be such a beautiful and inspiring compilation of photos!

Seeing the Everyday Photo Contest

2009-10-06T11:53:00.003-07:00

I am suuuuuuper excited about what's happening at Bloom this week! We are having a photo contest and the winner gets a year subscription to the most fabulous magazine, Seeing the Everyday. Click here to check it out. And tell your friends! It's going to be wonderful.