Red light, green light

Today, unprompted, David informed me of the following.

There are three types of people who do not stop at red lights:

1. Bad guys
2. Bad people
3. Good people who are late

Sewing project

[No, you're not viewing the wrong blog, and, yes, there is indeed a photograph of a handmade object on this post.]

I recently undertook my first sewing project since I was thirteen. Here is the super-dooper-make-me-smile-and-swoon-with-delight result...

Here is what I did:

1. I saw cute boots for Mary and I bought them.
2. I decided Mary should be a cowgirl for Halloween.
3. I realized Mary would need a vest.
4. I looked online and thought about making her one myself.
5. I got a headache.
6. I enlisted the help of my very talented and very nice and very helpful mother-in-law.
7. I trimmed the ribbon on the final product.

You may think there are some crucial steps missing--like choosing fabric, finding a pattern, cutting, pinning, SEWING, you know those kinds of crucial steps. Well, Vicky, my mother-in-law, took care of all of that.

After asking for her help, I was too embarrassed to say, "Please, please, please just make the whole thing yourself because if I have to think about this for one second or put one ounce of energy into it I might collapse on the ground into a quivering heap." But, of course, my mother-in-law is no fool and could read between the lines. And, this is the best part, she is so gracious that she politely continued to let me keep saying things like, "I'll come over this weekend and we can work on Mary's vest," or "I hope we can finish Mary's vest by Monday," or "Now that the kids are in bed, we can work on Mary's vest."

Oh, but the results of my non-participation are quite wonderful, aren't they? Much better than if I'd employed everything I learned in sewing lessons (yes, the saddest part is that I used to take sewing lessons), which, is to say, nothing (which was no fault of the teacher--it was like trying to teach algebra to a rock).

The best part is how much Mary loves her vest. I'll admit, at first she was scared of it. (There are certain clothing items that cause Mary to flee in fear, like dresses with tulle.) Then she only wanted to wear it as a bracelet. (!?) But finally she settled into the idea of being a cowgirl--mostly because she likes to say,"Yee-haw!" And thanks to her Grammy, a very cute cowgirl she is.

*****

So maybe I didn't learn much in sewing lessons. But I cannot say I didn't get anything out of it. Sure, I can't thread a bobbin or sew a straight seam...but what I did get out of sewing lessons is a lifelong friendship--with this awesome gal. (Psst. Hurry and check out her family blog before she goes private!) We barely knew each other when our moms decided we two girls would be walking to sewing lessons together. Way to go, moms! I'll admit, my shy self was nervous the first couple of times. But soon we became good friends, and I am very grateful for the time we spent together, the fun we had, and the confidence she instilled in me. Now, years later, she is a mentor and an example--the kind of mom I want to be...fun and caring and open and willing to accept the bad with the good...and able to find time to write a book. (I love ya, Jacqui! And next time I'm in Utah, we have to take a picture!!)

Parade and party

Yesterday David was in the big costume parade at school. He even had TWO grandmas there to watch him proudly march down the aisle.

The UPS man is David's best friend.

Sadly, Mary's class wasn't in the parade. Most of the kids in her class wouldn't have been able to handle it. (Sometimes I forget how mature Mary is for her age.) But she did get to wear her costume to school and say, "Yee-haw!"

Later that day was the big class party.

In a moment of total madness, I signed up to do this party with another mom. Class parties are a big deal at this school. Partly because this is Texas, where everything is over the top. And partly because in public school the restrictions make parties so lame--or even nonexistent--that all the moms unleash their party planning powers on the private preschools. Why did I decide to sign up for the FIRST party of the year? The pressure! I had no clue what I was doing. The last class party I'd been to was my own class party in third grade.

Fortunately, the mom I worked with lives and breathes Oriental Trading Company. And, fortunately, I can be organized, I like lamination, and I live with my mom who makes really good frosting. It all worked out quite nicely.

I even discovered that I can successfully boss around a herd of 4-year-olds in much the same way that I use to boss around 12-year-olds. (David's teacher is a former middle school teacher. I'm sure that was an easy transition for her.)

What a relief that the party was a success! Now I have nothing to worry about...until Mary's class Christmas party. (Somebody keep me away from the sign-up sheets!)

---------

Pssst. Does anybody want to see David's girlfriend?

Cowgirl and Power Ranger

I think my blog has morphed from pictures with pumpkins to kids in costume. That's okay. (David, who has discovered that he thinks the guts of a pumpkin is really gross, told me he is tired of pumpkins.)

Yesterday David and Mary got to dress up for school. As usual, David walked Mary to her classroom.

But we paused for a few pictures before David gave bid his sister farewell.

Aren't they cute? I love these sweetie-pies. (And they love each other, too!)

Fashion statement

She's still our Mary. Only shirtless.

School pictures

It's fall. So not only is it time for pictures with pumpkins, it's time for school pictures! The other day David and Mary came home with this paper:

Little did I know one piece of paper could bring me so much joy. Every time I look at it, I have to laugh. I know you're just dying to have a closer look, so you too can chuckle at my plastic boy and my oh-so-serious girl...and their preschool reading material...

Wow. I never knew David was capable of following directions so well--as he evidently was in these perfectly posed pictures. And I never knew I had to worry about my children's footwear on school picture day--I guess we'll always remember Mary's yellow crocs.

I had no intentions of ordering any overpriced school picture prints. But I finally broke down--because they're just too cute in an adorably funny way. I also figure it was the least I could do for Mr. Isaac of Isaac Photography--to thank him for the joy he brought into my life...and apologize for the copyrighted images I am so shamelessly posting on the Internet.

But I had to share the joy!

Costume preview

This morning a woman from our church threw a Halloween party for all of the little ones. (My mom graciously volunteered to take the kids, so Greg could accompany on my exciting morning of running errands.)

We got a sneak peak of how cute these kids are going to be when they go trick-or-treating. I was sure to snap a few pictures of Mary--she's so capricious and stubborn--who knows if she'll wear her costume again. And David didn't want his picture taken at all--but I did sneak one of my little Power Ranger (who only has a vague idea of what a Power Ranger is).

More on Mary's costume later. (Don't accuse me of not trying to get into the Texan spirit of things!)

The upside of three hours

I'm really not a fan of going to church for three hours straight. Good thing there are some perks to being Mormon, like playgroups and the whole getting to be married to your spouse FOREVER thing (Hurray!). And I have to admit there is at least one advantage to lengthy church: Three hours is a long time for God to speak to your soul, and that is a good thing.

Today the Spirit spoke to my spirit, and my heart was filled with gratitude. Here are some of the things I felt grateful for:

1. The opportunity I had to serve a full time mission in the Dominican Republic. Being a missionary is an awesome experience! And one that allowed me to build a firm foundation of faith for the rest of my life.
2. The love and support and help and good hugs I get from my brother Daniel. It's kinda weird having my baby brother take care of me...but how grateful I am for it.
3. That Mary marched into her nursery class like she owned the place.
4. The (literally) hundreds of ordinances Greg and I were able to participate in at the Washington D.C. temple while we lived in Delaware. I am learning that we will receive blessings for the rest of our lives because of the choice we made to attend the temple frequently during that (childless) time in our lives.
5. That David did not say "poopy Jesus" during the talk he gave in Primary, despite the fact that every time we practiced he said "poopy Jesus." (Had he actually said it today, not only would he have had the longest time out of his life, but shame would have driven us into hiding...probably in one of those missile silos they have in North Dakota.) By the way, David did a great job and had an irresistible smile on his face the whole time.
6. Good cheer. When the Lord said, "Be of good cheer," He did not exactly mean to have a smile plastered on your face. Read the three accounts President Monson shared last April. They are not about outward appearances of happiness. (No one could smile through the trials these people faced.) They are about the profound joy and eternal perspective that comes from understanding the gospel of Jesus Christ. Good cheer is the peace and strength that comes from trusting in and embracing the Savior's Atonement.

Maybe I went to church with a soft heart because I didn't have to put on David's shoes and socks myself this morning (thanks, Dad) or because I didn't have to close the dirty garage door with my bare hands (thank, Mom). Or maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Or yesterday's session with my new therapist. Or maybe it was because I know I get to fall into my husband's arms at 6:14 pm today. Whatever the reason, I am grateful I went to church today with an open heart, and I am grateful that God had three hours to fill it.

Sharkarosa

One Saturday in October Grammy and Grampa took David and Mary to Sharkarosa Wildlife Ranch. It was a big hit! With a tractor train and baby kangaroos, how could it not be?!

[Meanwhile, I went to meet my new therapist, and, even more therapeutic, shopped at Target all by myself.]

Okay, I admit it: It's pretty great living near so much family! (AND near fun places to go like Sharkarosa.)

Here are some pictures of their fun...

Even more pictures with pumpkins

I told you it was only the beginning!

Last night we had a sleepover at Grammy's, and a key activity (for Grandpa) included pumpkin carving.

In case [it's] not my day

You may have noticed some rather glaring errors recently on my blog. Like "art aisle" instead of "art easel" or "fire martial" instead of "fire marshal." And while Mary would love an entire aisle of art supplies for her birthday, and Greg may very well enjoy being trained in some kind of fire-throwing jujitsu, they were indeed errors, as loved ones have kindly pointed out.

I have been having even more brain farts than usual lately, so I am very grateful to people who bring my attention to such obvious mistakes. I'm sure you've seen a million other such errors--because even this little blog is too big for my brain. (Wow--what does that say about the state of affairs inside my head?) And, really, how much time (if any) does a person want to spend proofreading a post?

I also realize my anti-anxiety meds must be working because instead of losing three nights of sleep over these mistakes, I shrugged my shoulders and seriously considered not even correcting them. Now that's progress any therapist would be happy about.

Here's my point. Actually, it's more of a request or desperate plea. If you ever happen to notice that I use "its" when I should use "it's" or vice versa, please let me know. Right away. Email me, call me, text me, hunt me down at the Target in Highland Village, whatever it takes. Misusage of its/it's may very well be my numero uno pet peeve, and I WILL lose three nights of sleep if I make this mistake and NO ONE TELLS ME. Really, guys, pitch in here and don't let me be a hypocrite. Isn't that what friends are for?

Another list

Lists on this blog are a good thing. It means we're seeing Daddy soon! He will be stopping by briefly on his way to and from a week-long fire marshal school.

This is my honey-do list this time:

1. Help me with some Blogger woes
2. Deep clean or dispose of the frog humidifier
3. Fix or dispose of the patio table umbrella
4. Trim our children's fingernails
5. Mail back my Netflix DVDs
6. Make me go through my overflowing clutterbox, er, inbox
7. Work with my parents to solve the stupid broken garage door problem that is going to send me to a mental institution...and/or result in the robbery of my parents' valuables and/or invite a nasty letter from the homeowners association, as I never get out of my car to close the garage door anymore (in an attempt to avoid the mental institution)

Yes, I am perfectly capable of completing #'s 2,4, and 5--but why do it myself when I can wait a few days and have someone else do it for me?

#1, like all things html, gives me a headache.

#3 I am absolutely unqualified for, which I know for sure because I already investigated the problem, which consists of a small spring, a rusty screw, and an odd shaped piece of metal--all currently waiting patiently in a Ziploc baggie for my husband's engineer brain.

#7 is risky for me because any attempt on my part will undoubtedly result in lots of tears, screaming, and hair-pulling. You should have seen me when I tried to set the thermostat 2 degrees cooler in my mom's house--I can't imagine the horror of working together to fix a broken garage door. (I'm sure it's lovely having your 32-year-old daughter move home and act like she's 12.) And you bet that Cabbage Patch Kid would come up again. So, this is all better left to my calm, rational husband, whom my parents like more than me and to whom they are eternally grateful for marrying their difficult daughter.

It's only been a few weeks since I saw Greg. It seems like forever. The next time we see him will probably be in February. Wow. I can't even imagine how big my list will be and how messed up my life will be and how long my kids' fingernails will be...

More pictures with pumpkins

Today we continue with pictures of my children and pumpkins--this time at the Dallas Arboretum, which we visited on Monday with Grammy.

Mondays are "Mommy & Me" days at the Arboretum, and since there are like twelve billion mommies and me's in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex and about two non-mall things to do in the entire region, I think every one of those twelve billion mommies and their mini-me's were at the Arboretum. Never have I seen so many strollers. BUT the weather was gorgeous, the displays were festive, and we had a wonderful time. (We even ran into friends!) So wonderful, in fact, that Grammy and I bought a membership. We are all excited to return.

Here are the promised pictures and the promised pumpkins.

I don't know why David is holding up three fingers?

If only Mary were looking at the camera...but isn't that a wonderfully festive arrangement in the background?
The pumpkin house...

Mary loved jumping off of hay bales...
David ran through the hay bale maze...
Mary at the door of a play house...
Rushing through a garden...
Petting zoo...
Grooming with Grammy...
David LOVED this...and it occupied him for ages...maybe he should have been born on a farm a hundred years ago...

Love this one...
I believe there are currently no more pictures with pumpkins to post. But Halloween is still a week and a half away. You realize this is only the beginning, right?

Pictures with pumpkins

It's fall! In other words, time to saturate my blog with pictures of my children posed with pumpkins.

Today we will start with pictures from Friday morning's playgroup at the fabulous (seriously!!) Flower Mound Pumpkin Patch.

(It's a pretty sweet deal being Mormon. You move someplace and--boom!--before you even have a chance to send an inquiring email, you're in a playgroup and your kids have friends. I don't know about you, but I am more than happy to sacrifice cigarettes, mini-skirts, and shopping on Sundays for the cause of a good playgroup. Heck, I think I'd sacrifice CHOCOLATE for a good playgroup, but fortunately I don't have to.)