Elijah Jonathan

I know people like all the details, so here goes.

I never planned on going full term.  I have an "in" with God and all though, and basically I happen to know that for every time you puke, a minute is taken off your pregnancy.  Eli was born 2 weeks and 5 days early, so that's about right...

My other two labors both lasted under 6 hours from start to finish, so when I started having contractions on Christmas day at 5PM I wondered if we were going to have a Christmas baby!  But things progressed rather slowly, and by 3AM the next morning they were 5 minutes apart.  Which is traditionally when you're supposed to go to the hospital.  But it's really really hard to call someone at 3AM to take your other kids, so I held off until about 5 when Rust woke up and forced us to go to the hospital.  The kids were way more excited about being woken up because the baby was coming than when I woke them up the day before for Christmas.  

I was still afraid of a false labor and being sent home when my water broke in our friends' driveway!  I think I probably woke up her neighborhood when I started yelling (shouts of glee of course).  

So we got to the hospital, and I got an epidural about an hour later.  (So yes, birth plans are pretty awesome).  I spent the rest of the day just lying in bed, playing on facebook, and napping.  I hadn't been that comfortable in about 9 months.

Elijah made his grand entrance at 5PM that night, so 24 hours total (twice as long as my other two combined), honestly, I was very comfortable through the entire thing.  The last ten minutes hurt a little.  

Those are always my favorite labor stories to hear, so you're welcome.

Elijah Jonathan 

4:49 PM: December 26th

7 lbs 15 ounces: 20.5 inches 

By coming early, we avoided a potential problem.  The placenta was starting to rip away from the uterus, so we're glad he made it here safely.

For months we've considered the name Elijah, but Austin was never on board with it.  That's why we encouraged him to call him whatever he wanted.  He's called him "Batman" and "Legos", but I think due to the Christmas holiday and the fact that the only baby Austin knows about is "Baby Jesus", that is now what he calls Eli.  So before he left with Rust today, he gave "Baby Jesus" a kiss.

We like the tradition of naming our kids after our siblings, so that's where Jonathan comes in.  The 26th is also Jon's birthday (Rusty's brother) and his baby was born a few hours after Eli.  Jonathan is also the name of mine and Rust's 11th great grandfather.  We only think that's a little weird.

Ashlyn just loves him.  And will hold him for hours every day, but won't change his diapers and still doesn't want to be a mom when she grows up.

There are some jealousy issues with Austin, when we brought the kids to the hospital to meet Eli, Austin requested that the baby go back in my tummy so that "Daddy can hold me instead."

I feel really good.  I am pretty stir crazy though, this staying home thing is not my cup of tea.

My Birth Plan

At my last appointment, the doctor asked me about my birth plan.  

With Austin, I didn't specify a birth plan.  And I feel like if I had, maybe I wouldn't have ended up with salmonella poisoning, a 104 degree fever, and a 5-day stay at a hospital that had no hot water and nurses who kept accusing my husband of domestic violence and lecturing me about staying up too late at night.

So I got a little specific.  Including when I'd go into labor (tomorrow), when I'd get an epidural (ummm...yesterday, thanks), how many contractions I'd feel (none), and how I'd just laugh and talk with Rustin (maybe watch a movie?) until the baby just falls out.

The doctor didn't write any of that down.

It's like, why ask me a question if you're not going to take my answer seriously?  So after an uncomfortable minute of him staring at me, apparently waiting for me to revise or clarify my birth plan, he scribbled "epidural".  Although you know how doctors write.  They really can't.

So that there's no mistake, I made him capitalize it, underline it three times, and add about 50 exclamation points at the end.

He did not highlight it.  We're not really on good terms, not like I am with my anesthesiologist anyways.  My anesthesiologist not only would have highlighted it, he would have written it in red sparkly pen and smiled when he did it.

My Worst Birthday Ever

...was actually when I turned 22.  Maybe I'll share the story sometime?  

But that was way before facebook reminded all 750 of my closest friends when my birthday is (just kidding everyone, I start deleting people I've never made eye contact with if I reach 400), so I ended the day not feeling quite as awesome as I do right now.  Even though I will be turning 30 today.

And by "will be" I mean that I was born at 7:04PM MST and I still have 49 more minutes in my 20s...I'm hanging onto it as long as I possibly can.

And here I am in my almost-30 glory (because yes, I still give into peer pressure and my girls wanted a picture of me - but once I'm 30, I'll be too old for peer pressure, enjoy it while it lasts).

And I know you think that's a baby, but it's not.  It's raspberry cheesecake.  Raspberry cheesecake that I made myself.

And no, I'm really not bitter about making my own cake.  You see, I have a choice every year...one option is letting my loving family make me something almost edible, or make my own awesome cheesecake.  The cheesecake wins out every year.

What I am bitter about?  I bought myself a present and gave it to Rust to wrap up for me for my birthday, but he decided to save it for me for Christmas.  That is not how that was supposed to work out.

Anyways, thanks for all the birthday love!  ♥ ♥ ♥
I hope the next ten are as awesome as the last ten!  But that I'm richer.

My Baby is Six!

I'll admit that I am completely envious of my 40-week pregnant past self.  I hope to never be there again though.

Ashlyn had three requests for her birthday.

1.  We do not go to the gym.  (A request that I completely ignored, but I did leave early).
2.  Nobody takes a nap (Apparently, I've been really boring lately - another request I ignored, but I did let her watch TV while I snoozed).
3.  A scooter.

 At least she got one thing she wanted.

Arguments with my Husband

Me:  I bought bacon today.  So that I would maybe make dinner tonight, but then I left it out all day and had to throw it away.

Rust:  You can't do that.  I'll eat it.

Me:  You can't eat bacon that has been sitting in a bag on the counter for 10 hours.  

Rust:  You can't throw away bacon.  

So something about my husband...

Rust doesn't like to waste food.  And I know this, but I don't like to clean out the fridge.  Because gross things make me gag, especially now that I know how much like placenta taco meat looks like.  And sometimes things get shoved in the back and we forget that it's there, because I don't bend over anymore unless I absolutely have to.

So we're kind of at a standstill.  

So I don't even remember that last time we had tacos (it certainly wasn't after my placenta post last week), but because we had no bacon for dinner we had to get creative.  And by creative, I mean I feed the kids PB&J sandwiches and I eat some yogurt.  Rust starts rummaging in the fridge and finds the taco meat.  Way way way in the back.  

He starts heating it up.  Then scoops it onto his plate.

So I spit in it.

And then he's grossed out and throws it away.

And now I'm going to bed angry at him for thinking my spit is grosser than month old taco meat.

And he is going to bed hungry, but won't die tomorrow.  So I win. 

Head Room Mom

Have I mentioned that I'm head room mom for my son's preschool?  I'm not sure how that happened.

Actually, maybe I do.  I vaguely recall a meeting where I had to fill out an information sheet, and maybe under the religion question I drew a little devil.  Not unlike this one...

But the devil wasn't holding a pitch fork, it was holding a cup of coffee.

Did I mention it's a Baptist preschool?  I don't think they're so keen on devils.

Because then they made me head room mom.

But two can play this game.  So I cut my son's hair into a mohawk.  Just in time for school pictures.  Because I'm passive aggressive like that...

Rust doesn't like it when I give Austin mohawks.  He thinks it makes us one star people.  But while that may be a little true, what really makes us one star people is eating at Cici's Pizza.  And if we're going to give up one, it should most definitely be the pizza.

So now I have parents dropping off things like bags of candy for various parties.  And I don't feel even a little bit bad when I eat an entire bag by myself.

The gauntlet has been thrown baptist preschool.  Do your worst.  Even if it means damning me to hell.  Because there are worst things out there...like sending missionaries to my door.

I'm Going to Eat the Placenta

No really, I'm not.  

But I do like reading about people who do.  And in case you wondered what it was like, here's someone's experience:  http://mamaandbabylove.blogspot.com/2011/08/yes-i-ate-my-placenta.html  (FYI she's an American).  And of course I had to add my thoughts on the matter, because sometimes all the time when I'm in my third trimester I like to make fun of people that are different than me.  

Please tell me if you want to try some.  I'll share mine.  Mostly because I don't have a need for it, and also so I know who to block on facebook  because I'm sure placenta is just a step away from eating an actual child or a beloved pet.  And while I can be friends with someone who would eat their cat, I can't be friends with someone who would eat my child.

I read the article in 10 second increments, trying to absorb it all.  And trying to gain the courage to scroll down a little further...because at the beginning she warns that there are pictures.  And that's unfortunately not a lie.  And I for one lie a lot on my blog and photoshop pictures of me so I look skinnier, so I kind of hoped that she did, too.

So here is my review.  I gagged.  And my eyes watered a lot.  And then I had to stop when I saw it in the pan.  My husband had to read the rest  (seriously, that man is a keeper!) while I was in another room channeling happy thoughts and yelling things like, "DID SHE MARINATE IT??!"  I also had to down a zofran, something I haven't had to do since my sister-in-law sent me a picture of her husband's toe nail.

Oh, and another thing.  How do you find two friends that will eat placenta with you?  I can't even find two friends that will go to a movie with me.  (True story, I saw Bridesmaids by myself...and Harry Potter).

But there are apparently emotional and health benefits to eating it, so I of course started thinking about all the emotional and health benefits to NOT eating the placenta, and here's my list:

1.  Cow is better.  Even the McDonalds version of it.  

I guess I don't actually know that for sure, but my intuition hasn't failed me yet.  And plus there is no umbilical cord attached to my quarter pounder.  And that's saying a lot, because it's McDonalds.

2.  It's never a good idea to eat things that are expelled from your body.  Ex. poop, urine, vomit, pus.

(Another intuitive moment FYI).

3.  If you want to be green and all natural, cloth diaper or something.  Or just do what I do and smile at the windmills.  It will be just as fulfilling I'm sure.  But not physically fulfilling.  Heck, if you want to be physically fulfilled grow a cabbage and eat that.

4.  I quote:  "I read somewhere that if you save some of your placenta pills in the freezer, you can take them during menopause and they will help regulate your hormones and ease the transition."  

Somewhere?  You read somewhere?  It's never a good idea to just read something somewhere and then follow through with it.  Because there's some whacked out stuff on the internets y'all.  Although I will admit that the pill version is less creepy, but I'm not really one to keep something around for 30 years, because in 30 years there is going to be a cure for menopause.  

5:  Another quote:  "Did you know that first borns are smarter and healthier, because most mothers do not replenish their nutrient stores before getting pregnant again with the next child?"  Actually, that's a lie.  First borns are smarter and healthier because you're still naively excited about motherhood and you don't forget to take them in for their vaccines and dentist appointments.  Of course I potty-trained my first child before she was 2, I had nothing else to do.  My third child?  I figure his Kindergarten teacher will probably have to do it.  That's what taxes are for!

6.  Quote:  "I mainly did it, because I read that it helps fight off PPD [postpartum depression]."  FYI - she forgot to include that she read it somewhere...but you know what else fights off PPD?  A massage, a manicure, a nap.  Beating the side of your house with a baseball bat.  Or Zoloft even.

And finally....

7.  Of course eating it would be an emotional experience.  I probably wouldn't be able to stop crying after my husband left me either.

In conclusion, if you want to love your baby and feel an emotional attachment to her.  Kiss her.  Hug her.  Lick her if you have to.  Just don't get all hippie on the placenta...or if you do, don't share pictures.  I will definitely never be able to have another child because I could not survive first trimester morning sickness with that image scarred into my brain.

Halloween

Are we noticing a trend yet?

Let me give you a hint:

I bet you think I'm referring to how unoriginal and cheap I am when it comes to making Ashlyn's costumes, huh?  But no, I was actually referring to the fact that we've lived in 4 different houses the last 4 Halloweens (but actually if you want to do the math - Rust and I have never been in the same house two Halloweens in a row).  

What?  You don't believe me?

New Years Resolution 2012: Don't freaking move.  Even if you still have no friends next year.  Just kidding.  I have like 5.  If you round up.

I don't know what's more annoying, the 20 lbs of candy or the one little pink whistle...and no, not all the candy is pictured because we should all know that no woman will overestimate weight.  Like ever.

I Found My Shorts!

My favorite pair of shorts!  (Not really - they just happen to be the only pair that fits right now).  But I lost them 3 weeks ago, I have searched high and low.

So the good news is that I found them.

The bad news is that they are stuck between 3 floors of laundry chute.

My Religious Musings

I know about five of you that cringed when you read my blog title post today.  Good.  Cringe.  

I've been reading, following and participating in various arguments online regarding politics, Christianity and sexuality today.  I'm kind of tired of it.  I get why it's offensive as a Mormon to be called unchristian, but try to understand that for some people it's not just a matter of believing in Jesus Christ, that that's not enough to make someone a Christian.  Just like the FLDS aren't considered mormon just because they believe that Joseph Smith was a prophet.

But plastering Facebook and calling Robert Jeffress names (like stupid and uneducated) somehow makes you better than him?

I read the following today and I sadly agree with it:  There has been more hate spread, more violence and destruction done in the name of religion than by any other group...

That's tragic.  It puts a bad taste in my mouth towards religion.  All religion.

I think more importantly than how well you prescribe to your particular ambiguous moral code (because let's be honest, the same incredibly modest outfit I'm wearing right now would have banned me to hell 150 years ago), is how you treat other people.  Everyone needs to stop acting like they own God.

When Jesus walked the earth, did he condemn the adulteress? the homosexual?  the tank top wearers?  Nope.  So why do we?     

My Kids

I've been a little concerned about Austin lately.  He's reverted into a one-year-old, one that sucks his thumb (even though he never did) and one that can't get himself dressed.  

I'm just glad he still remembers how to use the bathroom, and I can usually convince him to do something for himself if I remind him that babies can't play Lego Batman.

And then there's Ashlyn...she has developed very strong feelings for the neighbor's cat.  

She looks a little too comfortable for my liking.  And happy.  And I normally like happy children.  But not this time.

When she wasn't looking, I tried to antagonize that thing so it would scratch her.  I only feel a little guilty.

She had been holding her (him really) for about an hour when Rust came home.  And much to her delight, he spoke these irreparable words:

Ashlyn we'll have to get you a kitty.

Me:  WHAT??!! (insert various expletives here - yes, not only do I swear on my blog, in my internal dialogue, but I also do it in front of my children - but only when my husband offers them animals, and not to eat).
Rust:  Well, she loves that cat.
Me:  Stop looking at her.  Instead look at all the hair that has accumulated on her dress.  And remember that cats live much longer than goldfish do.

I don't know for sure, but I think I bought us some more time.

Austin turns 4!

Austin's birthday wish list:

He wanted a car.  One that he could ride in.  Like daddy's.

And then when we told him that wasn't going to happen for a long time, he started making up new XBox games, "like Legos, but where you can run faster...called Faster Than Earth!"

I love this kid.

Here's a few things about him:

He knows he can't potty talk at the table, but he also can't go a half an hour without mentioning the word "poop", so he gets up from the table in the middle of his story so he can say "poop" a foot away.  And then he'll rejoin us.

I love the funny things he says, when he climbed into the car today, he scrunched up his nose and said, "Ugh.  It smells like stop signs in here."  Just a note, I have never seen him smell a stop sign.

He constantly plays with his tongue.  It's always hanging out.  But that has always been the case.

He also burps.  A lot.  And as soon as he is done burping, he points to the closet person to him and says, "That was you!"

He is all boy.  And a very sweet boy, too.  When he got his four-year-old shots, he was very brave, but wanted me to hug him.  He buried his face in my neck and said, "Mommy just hug me, it hurts so bad."  Thankfully his next set isn't until he's eleven, and I doubt he'll have the same reaction.

He wasn't even a little disappointed on his birthday when he didn't get a new car or a freshly programmed XBox game.

Happy Birthday buddy!

Testing

We're testing our air mattresses for leaks before our camping trip this weekend.

So far so good.  

I stopped looking in mirrors last week, but if mine doesn't hold up tomorrow night, I'll assume that it means I'm bigger than our LoveSacs and I will not leave my house until January.

Let's Talk Executions

Insomnia sucks.  But at least I can browse random websites.

I found this really awesome list on Wikipedia the other night of all the last meals requested by death row inmates.  Wikipedia has everything.

You can tell this guy wasn't American:

Andrey Chikatilo: porridge with a small piece of beef.

This guy?  Definitely American:

Lawrence Russel Brewer:  Two chicken fried steaks smothered in gravy with sliced onions; a triple meat bacon cheeseburger with fixings on the side; a cheese omelet with ground beef, tomatoes, onions, bell peppers and jalapenos; a large bowl of fried okra with ketchup; one pound of barbecue with half a loaf of white bread; three fajitas with fixings; a Meat Lovers pizza; three root beers; one pint of Blue Bell vanilla ice cream; and a slab of peanut butter fudge with crushed peanuts.

And then he didn't eat it.  

And while I don't really support the death penalty, you don't go wasting peanut butter fudge with crushed peanuts and expect a stay of execution.  

Our Cake!

Since no one here had heard of a gender reveal cake, I was sure somewhere along the line someone would drop the ball.  But the ladies at Kroger kept it a secret and I managed not to peek at the ultrasound pictures all day long.

We let the kids slice the cake.

I thought Austin would be happier than he was, but he is convinced we're having a girl and that the girl just really likes the color blue.

Our Tie Breaker

The baby didn't show the goods last month, and my OB is very graciously letting me come back in tomorrow for attempt #2.

Doctors orders:  Eat doughnuts/cinnamon rolls beforehand to jump start the baby's activities.  As s/he slept through the last one.

Remember this post?  About finding a fat OB?  It's paid off in dividends.  Cinnamon rolls for breakfast?  OK doc!  Whatever you say!  Maybe I'll take his advice all week.  And maybe he really just said to have orange juice and I translated that to cinnamon rolls.  I knew what he meant.

Anyways...

the husband and kids aren't coming with me tomorrow morning, so we're doing that trendy cake reveal thing (where you cut open the cake and surprise!  It's pink or blue inside).  I just placed the order, and asked Austin if he'd be really sad if the middle was pink.  He said, "Well if it's pink than I'll just love the cake more than the baby."

Austin - considering I'm like 25 weeks and STILL puking, I love cake more than babies, too.

It's still brilliant.  This cake now works as a consolation prize to the kid that doesn't get the baby brother or sister they've been hoping for.  Either way I win.  Cinnamon rolls for breakfast, cake for dinner, and a baby in a few short months.  :)

Two and a Half Hours

Austin started preschool yesterday, that gave me exactly 2.5 hours to myself.  Well, by the time I got both kids to school (the bus forgot to pick up Ashlyn) it was down to 2 hours.

Ten minutes of attempting a sweet first day of preschool picture and this is what I ended up with.  Still sweet, and completely captures all that is Austin.  I wish the best of luck to his teachers.  I will consider the year a success if he can keep his shoes on the entire time.

Lunch.  Absolutely worth mentioning.  How have I managed to survive so long without a Noodles & Company close by?  And on the way to lunch, I listened to my music way too loud and didn't once turn on Dancing Queen.  

Went shopping.  I even tried on the clothes I planned on buying.  Dear moms of little kids, there will come a day when you can, too.  Have faith.

Then I bought more than I planned on, but the kids' wouldn't have kept me from doing that.  Rust maybe.  Rust definitely.

Including this:

No, I don't know that I'm having a girl.  But when you can buy a brand new Baby Gap bedding set for $20, you just do it.  Even when you're not pregnant.  It's a great investment.  And yes, I said that for my husband's sake.  He doesn't understand why I call purchases like these "investments", but he still calls the house we bought in 2008 an investment.  So obviously our definition of "investment" is very loose.

Home to paint and watch a trashy TV show.  Not that I even wanted to watch it.  I just did because I could.

Then I ran out of things to do.

Haha, just kidding about that.

I actually ran out of time and had to run pick up Austin, I was 10 minutes early which gave me plenty of time to try to hack into the baptist preschool's wifi on my ipod.  I tried God and Jesus, and Hinckley.  I figured Hinckley wouldn't work, but I don't know much about the Baptist religion.  I did try bible thumper, but that didn't work either.  So off to learn more about the baptists, and I've got an entire year to break into the wifi.  I'll keep you updated on that.  If you have suggestions I'll gladly hear them, try them, and if you're right maybe you'll win the Gap Baby set.  But only if I have a boy.  And if Ashlyn lets me give it away.

Can't wait for tomorrow!

Flashback Friday: The Friday Edition

Your first thought is probably that that is a little redundant, right?  But no, I've never done a Flashback Friday on a Friday before.  For reals.

I was headed to the gym the other morning, (but not too early, it's rare that I leave my house before 9:40AM)  flipping through those annoying morning radio shows trying to find an actual song, when a Ryan Seacrest type person started talking about the horror that was Kate Middleton recycling a dress that she had worn years before.  Ummm...ok?  There are real tragedies in the world, but you're right, children starving to death in Somalia is a little too depressing for a pre-zumba toning class.

Here's where I insert a random picture from high school that has nothing to do with this story:

So it reminded me of high school.  I was sitting in physics class, when the girl in front of me turned around and said, "Oh my gosh.  Do you see Carly over there?  She wore that outfit on the first day of school!"  And I was  all, "Are you kidding me?"  And I think she thought I was encouraging her or something.  In reality, I was thinking, "It's January.  Why the heck do you care that she's wearing the same thing and how the heck do you remember what she wore 5 months ago?"  And no, I never swore in my internal dialogue in high school.  Thank you John Bytheway.

So she goes on to tell me that she had a worksheet with all of her shirts listed on one side and her pants/skirts  listed above.  She could then x out an outfit; she allowed herself to wear a shirt more than once, but would never pair it with the same thing twice.  That way she could wear a different outfit every day of the school year.

So you know what I do, right?  I started wearing the exact same outfit every Monday until she stopped talking to me.

And it worked.  The girl has like 1300 facebook friends and I'm not one of them.  Probably because I recycled profile pictures or something ridiculous like that.

Five-year-old Heartache

Tonight Ashlyn came downstairs at 10:00 and started sobbing for "mommy".  

I went upstairs and laid down with her, stroking her hair and trying to figure out why she was so sad.  I asked her about school, and about her friends.  She didn't really answer.  While she laid on my lap crying, I had visions of having to beat up every single five-year-old in her class.  I don't like that she's gone for three hours every day, for the first time in her life I don't know what she does every single second.  Did I teach her well enough?  Does she know she's not supposed to pick her nose and not talk about poop?  I let her wear a crazy outfit today and paint a different color on every single finger nail and toe nail.  Did some mean kid tease her?   

But she loves school.

So is it the new baby then?  We went shopping tonight and we looked at little baby tutus, is she jealous?  She sobbed harder.  I figured we needed some good one-on-one time, so I proposed a date tomorrow night.  Just me and her and I asked her what she wanted to do...ICE CREAM.  She cried it and then started full body sobbing.

That's why she was sad.  We promised her ice cream tonight if she finished all of her dinner (6 cheesy noodles and 1 piece of broccoli).  She didn't.  So she didn't get ice cream, and she was heartbroken about it.

I'll admit that I was so relieved.  She fell asleep with a smile on her face after talking about all the toppings she'll put on her ice cream tomorrow night after she finishes all of her dinner.

Tonight I am grateful that my daughter is only five, and that I can still magically fix her problems.  And that her biggest hurt in life is rooted in ice cream, and I'm grateful that she'll still let me rock her to sleep.  That won't always be the case, I know it, so tonight I cherished every minute of it.

First Day of Kindergarten

Today was Ashlyn's first day of Kindergarten.  I didn't cry.

No wait.  I did cry.  After about three hours of Austin tugging on me telling me how bored he was and how much he missed Ashlyn.  He eventually fell asleep, with the same big frown he had on his face the entire time Ash was at school.

Ash loved it.  She especially loves art even though they haven't done any yet.  She sits between two boys and "didn't talk to anyone today."

Twenty-one days until preschool starts and then 4 blissful months of having 6 hours a week to myself...

Confession Time: Pregnancy Edition

I can still button my pants.

I'm pretty sure at this point with my other pregnancies, I was wearing maternity clothes.

I'm guessing it's not because I'm any smaller this time around, it's probably more because my regular clothes are just bigger.

I Blew Ashlyn's Mind

Ashlyn asked me the other day if I loved playing Angry Birds when I was a little girl as much as she and Austin love it now.

And I had to tell her that when I was her age that we didn't have computers and ipods and when I wanted to play Angry Birds, I had to go outside and pick up the birds and throw them at little piggies myself.  (True story).

So she mulled over that for a couple of days and then out of the blue she panickly (that's not a word, by the way) came to me and said, "If you didn't have computers when you were a little girl, how did your mommy check email??"  And I was like, "She didn't."

And she was all, "Well what did she do all day?"  And I could tell that her mind was blown.

And I do realize that this is more of a zoo picture and less of a "Ashlyn's mind has just been blown" photo, but I just love her green eyes.

The One About Puppies, and Rainbows and Unicorns

But not really because I hate puppies, unicorns aren't real, and rainbows aren't a safe topic.

We spent the weekend with my dad, his wife and my grandparents (and a whole bunch of aunts, uncles and cousins).  It was tremendously fun.  

Here's my dad with the kiddos.  The last time we went to the zoo, I ended up carrying both kids out.  $12 for a stroller rental was worth every penny.  They're also eating Dippin' Dots ice cream.  Uncle Dave bought it for them, I only had Dippin' Dots ice cream once growing up and it was because my Uncle Dave bought it for me.  I still think he's awesome.  He knows how to win the kids over!

Ashlyn's hair was a tangled mess.  She spent all morning curled up in the fetal position because I wouldn't let her wear her new tutu a second day in a row.

You'd think that little girl in the middle would be my kids' cousin.  But no, she's my cousin.  Growing up, I always complained about the cousins on my mom's side that were all as old as my mom.  I am glad I get to fulfill the roll of old cousin for this little girl.  

You take pictures like this because you're at the zoo!

Ditto!

And this is "Puppy".  Austin's BFF.  We do everything with Puppy.  As we were leaving my grandparents and making sure we had everything, I said, "As long as we have puppy, we can just buy anything else we forget."  

I tried to get Austin to change his name from Puppy.  And it kind of worked.  I suggested Brownie or Frank., but he didn't like either one.  So I suggested he think of something he really likes and name it after that.  So now that puppies name is "All the Candy in the World".  

And yes, we can buy anything to replace what we forget.  But when we forget Zofran and have to wait 12 hours before a pharmacy opens, it's a bad bad thing.