Caleb's Birthday

On October 19th we celebrated Caleb's first birthday! I will spare you the unpleasant details, but it was not a good day, and about the only celebrating we did was singing happy birthday and eating the cake. Presents had to wait until the next day. It's a good thing Caleb didn't have any expectations. He did have fun eating (or more accurately destroying) his cake and has loved playing with his presents (as has Evan). It's hard to believe that it was a little more than a year ago that Caleb joined our family. He has brought such joy and laughter with him. From the beginning he has been such a happy baby. Everyone comments on how smiley he is. Now that he's a one-year-old he's crawling and cruising everywhere, but, while he's very steady on his feet, has no interest in learning to walk independently.

Caleb loves to clap, wave, and point at things. When he wants something he points and grunts in a very particular way: "Eh? Eh?" He loves baths and pretending to talk on the phone. He also loves eating. He can (and frequently does) eat Evan under the table. He'll eat almost anything, but he especially likes pears, macaroni and cheese, milk (he just gulps it), and green beans. He loves playing peak-a-boo, especially when you jump out and surprise him. He loves to be chased. He loves to break apart Evan's train tracks. He loves his blanket and his stuffed monkey.

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He hates it when you take things away from him and will fight for what he wants. He's a pretty big kid and not to be messed with. He hates having his nose wiped. He's also not a big fan of riding in the car.

And he has the cutest belly laugh. Sometimes he laughs so hard he snorts. When he gets really excited, he squeals, and sometimes if he's excited to see you he'll clap and squeal. And when it's time to go to bed and first thing in the morning he can be so snuggly. He gives big wet kisses.

I love him so much sometimes it almost takes my breath away. We are so grateful to have him in our family. Happy birthday, Caleb!

Anniversary of the Fire

I planned my next blog entry to be about Caleb's birthday and our fun fall adventures, but I still need to load the pictures onto my computer, and so Kara inspired me to write the following instead:

It was one year ago Wednesday that my parents' home, the home that my sisters and I grew up in, burned down in the Witch Creek Fire that ravaged San Diego County. Caleb was three days old, and my mom was here with us in Boston, leaving my dad with my elderly grandparents and three foster kids. Caleb had woken both me and my mom up for an early morning feeding when my mom got the call from my dad that they were definitely being evacuated. We'd been evacuated for fires before and even had one burn onto our property line, so I think most of us thought this evacuation would be like all the others. But I think my mom knew. She remembered and had my dad pack up all kinds of irreplaceable things she'd never remembered about in prior evacuations. She kept talking about how it felt different this time. And she was right, as she so often is. The next few days were a blur of sleep deprivation, hundreds (if not thousands -- I'm not exaggerating) of phone calls, changed travel plans, and an emotional rollercoaster. My mom went back home as soon as she could. My mother-in-law changed all her plans and came out to help with Caleb. Kara has blogged about this much more eloquently and visually (with lots of pictures) then I can: http://karaandjohn.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-year-ago.html.

Half-Marathon!

I am happy to announce that I both ran and survived a half-marathon on Saturday. Scott ran this same race a year ago, less than a week before Caleb was born and then insisted that I run it with him this year. So we've been training for it for a few months and Saturday was the big day. My time wasn't fabulous, it definitely wasn't one of my best runs, and I thought I might die the last 1.5 miles (note to self: in the 24 hours before running a half-marathon, eat more than one meal, drink more than 20 ounces of water, and sleep more than 4.5 hours), but I finished it, and that was my only goal.

The half-marathon was in Hartford and it was an absolutely gorgeous fall day. Mid-60s, sunny, crisp air, and stunning fall colors. Part of the course was along the river, and it was so peaceful and beautiful. The first few miles were easy, the next few were harder, but then I got a second wind and was pretty good from about mile six to mile nine. It got progressively harder from there. But I just kept telling myself, "You went through a 17-hour labor with no drugs, you can suck it up and run for a few short hours." The last couple of miles were in what might be termed the Latin district, and there were a bunch of people from those neighborhoods along the course cheering us on. By that point my right hip was killing me and sending shooting pains down my leg, and I must have looked pretty pathetic because several people shouted to me something along the lines of "Come on mamita, you can do it! You're almost there!!" It was surprisingly encouraging. We finally finished and it was such a great feeling. But then we had to walk way, way too far to the car. I didn't feel so well for the next 45-minutes or so (note to self: see note above, you moron), but once I was able to get a few bites of food (banana) down, I started to feel better. Scott and I spent the rest of the day limping around, but we're mostly better now. I'm still somewhat sore, but not as bad as I thought I would be. (And I just have to say, that I am even more impressed than I was before with those of you who run marathons!)

All in all, it was a difficult but wonderful experience. I'm so grateful to Scott for making me do it. It was a great motivator to exercise (still got lots of baby weight to lose) and also a great feeling of accomplishment when we were done. I'd highly recommend it. And believe me, if I can run a half-marathon, anyone can. (GO KARA!!!!!)

Much more interesting posts of cute children to follow soon, I promise!!

Photo Tagged

I have been "photo tagged" by Morgan, which is good because it's finally giving me an incentive to update our blog. Ok, so here we go.

The rules: The rules are you have to take ten pictures of the following things. And you have to do it right away. No straightening, cleaning or wiping your child's nose. Then you tag five others.

1. The kitchen sink.

I love this sink. It's so big and deep I can fit big jelly roll pans, the whole crockpot, Caleb, and probably even Evan in it (though not all at once). When we move I'm going to cut it out of the counter and take it with us.

2. The toilet(s).

We have two, so I took two pictures. Very exciting, I know.

3. The laundry room.

Or in our case, laundry closet.

4. The fridge.

5. Children/spouse RIGHT NOW.

Children are sleeping, and since I'm pretty sure taking a picture of them right now would wake them up, there's no way I'm going to do it, so the picture from us at bed time the other day will have to suffice.

And Scott reading a woodworking magazine.

6. Favorite shoes.

These probably aren't really my favorite shoes (though they are definitely the most often worn). My favorite pair is a beautiful pair of black heels, but they're at work.

7. Favorite room.

Though we don't have many to choose from....

8. Dream vacation.

A trip around the globe.

9. Self-portait.

Yikes! Sad as it is, this is the best one I took.

Now I tag (I hate this part)...all of you, or anyone who wants to do it, I guess. It's a cop-out, I know.

Kids say the darndest things!

Today after I came home from work we irresponsibly (irresponsibly because it was so late and because the kids needed jackets that I left at home) went to the playground. Among other things, there is a fairly large cement turtle that Evan climbed on. He kept saying Yee-haw! I said, "Evan, are you riding a turtle? Where's the turtle taking you?" To which he replied, "The turtle isn't real, mom." Oh, ok.

!!Warning, potentially disturbing/offensive/gross/off-color story!! The other night Scott was having Evan play messenger, an informal game in which Scott tells Evan to do or say something and Evan, if he is so inclined, attempts to comply. So first Scott told him to come give me a big hug and say, "I love you," and he did. (So cute!) Then, unbeknownst to me, Scott told Evan to come ask me, "Are you going to do what daddy wants to do tonight?" I will let all of you interpret what Scott meant by that. Evan garbled it pretty good, though, and so I had to ask Scott what he was trying to say. Scott told me he'd told Evan to ask, "Are you going to do what daddy wants to do tonight?" Evan brightened and said, "Yeah! He wants to eat lots and lots of candy!"

And on an unrelated but also very funny note, I came across a totally hilarious blog mocking Mormon culture. I quite literally LOL'd. Several times. Check it out at http://seriouslysoblessed.blogspot.com/. Start with the archived first posts and then go from there. But first, another warning: This blog is to be read only by people who have a high tolerance for satire and irreverant humor. I can definitely see how some might be offended by it....

Whew!

Now try not to die of shock. Yes, I am finally updating our blog. We have been busy, busy with trips to Texas and California, hiring a new nanny in between, sick kids, thesis writing, work, and so on.

We had a wonderful but exhausting time in Texas visiting Kara and John for baby Grant's blessing over the 4th of July weekend. We had a BBQ, watched the fireworks, went swimming, visited a train museum, and had all kinds of fun with family. Here are some photos from the train museum:



Evan walking on the train tracks


I'm gonna be an engineer, mom!



The whole family and a really big train


Evan and Andrew with grandma & grandpa


More updates and pictures to follow.

Punk! and other cute Evan stories

Evan was walking to the playground yesterday with his babysitter, her son, and Caleb, when they were passed by a group of teenage boys. Evan quite matter-of-factly said to them, "Outta my way, punk!" Where, you ask, did our sweet little boy learn such language? Scott says that this is what happens when you live in the 'hood. I, on the other hand, am pretty sure he learned it from his FATHER, who frequently says similar things to Evan. (E.g. outta my way punk; what're you doing, punk, etc.)

We were sitting down for dinner the other night, and Evan turned to me and said, "So, how was your day?" Laughing, I told him it was good and asked him, "How was your day Evan." He said, "I went to Colby's house. I played with airplanes."

Yesterday at naptime when Evan was at his babysitter's house, her son (Colby) wanted Evan to sing him a song. He asked that Evan sing him, "I Feel My Savior's Love," so Evan sat down in the rocking chair and sang him the whole song.

Evan and Colby declared yesterday that when they are workers when they get bigger they want to drive garbage trucks because that would be fun. We're so proud!!