For the Record

Earlier this week at dinner we had an important goal setting discussion.

Dallin: "Know what I want to be when I grow up? A guy that works at the Jelly Bean Factory."
We all mumbled some admiration for his foresight between bites of grilled cheese. Jelly beans everyday--how can you go wrong.
Afton: "I want to be a mom!" -- followed by a shy look up at me.
Again, "good choice," we all agreed. And then Lindsey was queried.
Lindsey: "I'm going to be a robot that goes on your floor." (it took 2 guesses before we correctly interpreted it.)
I followed her statement with the same nodding and validation I gave the other two, but Dallin and Aft made no effort to support such a decision.
Dallin: "HOW are you going to do that?"
Lindsey: "I'm gonna go beep, beep, beep, beep, beep (with fully synchronized robotic arm and head movements)."
I guess that shut Dallin right down, because he turned to his chicken noodle soup after that and let it go, until I reopened the discussion.
Me: "So, what do you think Davy should be."
Afton: "He should work at a store."
Dallin: "Which one. . . . like Costco. . . or Target?"
Afton: "Target"
Dallin: (excited now with a new idea) "No--he should work at the pizza part of Costco--you know, with Churros and pizza!"
"And lemonade!" I piped in.
Lindsey: "Day-fee should be a robot too!"

Anyway--so the good news is, it looks like we won't be having to pay for college for anyone (except Lindsey who may need to pursue some very advanced degrees in physics, biology and physiology, etc., and even then. . . . . she may be better off with some cardboard boxes and aluminum foil). And we may also be looking forward to some jelly bean and Costco Eatery perks in the not so distant future!!! Whoo Hoo! Who said parenthood doesn't have it's rewards?!?

Afton expanded on her plans for motherhood to me the day following the above conversation. She intends to have 24 children (or 34), the first one(s) will be twin girls named Rose and Flower. They will be followed by several other sets of twins, mostly girls, with some boys thrown in. I don't believe she is planning on having any single births, but when I introduced the idea of triplets to her, she decided she is definitely going to have some of those too. Oh, and, she is going to be a NICE mom. NOT like me.
Me: "So I'm not nice?"
Afton (and Dallin threw in his agreement): "No. I'm going to let them do whatever they want."
Me: "So what if they only want to eat candy and stay up all night and watch TV."
Afton: "Oh, they can only eat healthy stuff and can only watch one TV show and . . . (she went on about not too many video games, etc)"

So I ended that conversation feeling good and certain and smug in knowing that she would be told eventually by Rose and Flower that they were going to be NICE moms too someday.

The Ends of Eras

If it weren't for that thrilling feeling in my ribcage as I watch my kids do something new for the first time, I would have given up long ago. Given up on teaching them anything whatsoever--not that it would stop any one's progress much. I guess I'm just too much a lover of status-quo or nostalgia or whatever it is, to let these kiddies grow up. But they do.
Davy, in particular, is KILLING me right now. He is so scrumptiously cute I could devour him, revealing myself as the true offspring-consuming arachnid that I am. Instead, I tide-over my appetite with hugs so tight he finally grunts and pushes away from my hunched shoulders--arched forward to incarcerate him with my elbows and forearms. Of course, I am an easily swayed prison master and set him free with only a love paddle on his diapered rump for bail. In return I receive a gapy-toothed grin, a few deep, open-mouthed, laughy breaths and some drunken' sailor toddling steps to clap at.
Just as I am typing this I look up to see Davy pull himself up at the red chair then venture out on his own, the right arm up and out for balance and the left punching the air above him at the beat of four or five punches per step. His face a mix of wonder and trepidation. What thing could I possibly do today to feel so surprised and delighted with myself?
Along with the walking, he is also forging ahead with it's rhyming twin "talking." Earlier during a quick trip to Nordstrom Rack to return a few items (which somehow ended up costing me $28), Davy squeaked out one of his E.T. style "hhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeee"s and the lady at the register looked down in delight to find his big, little eyes staring up at her and his wrist still swivelling it's greeting. She may have thought it was cute, but I got the motherly thrill. Perhaps you've been in love with a child enough to have also felt the thrilling circus inside your stomach that I feel when watching my children's sweet, surprising and always unique progress. It's breathtaking. Other's may smile or take a peak at the leaps of progress, but don't usually care that much. They may be sucking on a lollipop, but they certainly aren't looking at a sunsetting Grand Canyon view like a mother does. I wonder if what I'm feeling while watching him feels as good as Davy does when he takes those steps.
But the REAL purpose of this post (or was at the outset) is to chronicle the sad ache that comes with the end of eras--like the crawling era. It just doesn't come back, ever again, once it is completely replaced with walking. Thus, the memories need to be recorded--memories like Davy getting taken on "walks" with Afton,

his dirty legs and hands and tops of feet,

crawling and aaaaaaaaaahhhhhing, and shaking his head at the same time,

crawling and pushing things on the floor at the same time (like my now scratched and scarred cell phone),

crawling then stopping to sit and rest and look around until he gets excited then hurriedly crawling again,

knowing that if you lie down on the floor you will soon be crawled upon and conquered by a heavily breathing and babbling soft body that will slobber and gnaw on you and ultimately produce laughter from your own tired body,

and the happy slapping sound of his hands on the hard floor signaling his coming. (Which sound I strategically use for the sweeping competition I have with Davy nearly every time the broom and dustpan come out of the closet. Their arrival in the kitchen arena somehow signals Davy that I will now be sweeping all the crumbs, toys, broken pencil lead, bits of paper, and dried carrot bits that he spends much of his awake time hunting for, into one consolidated and easily accessible pile in the middle of the kitchen floor. His arrival at that pile before I get it into the dustpan and garbage increases his treasure finding efficiency 400%. And he knows that I do everything I can to stop him. The competition has gotten pretty fierce lately. He's got skills and I am constantly having to up my game.)

Add these to a number of other heart alluring traits of a crawler and you've got one foot shuffling, reluctant mama. I will let this baby grow up, but I'm in no hurry to do it.

Lindsey is also turning into a "big girl" who "wears undies" and who loves to tell that to anyone who gives her a moment of their precious attention. We're as proud as punch of her, but she is even more proud to now be in the ranks of Afton, Dallin, Jakie, Violet, Roxy and her other undie wearing mentors. But more on her in the next post, when she takes on the "big three".

Davy giving his soft, tickley snuggles




What handsome bros.




Bad case of crawlers knee and foot




Afton using a yo yo for his walk



Davy gets absolutely giddy when out with his walker on the street while all the kids are riding their bikes and scooters around him. It's soo cool to be part of the neighborhood gang.

We Ain't Ones to Look A Gift Horse in the Mouth or Anything

So, as our Christmas season ramped up to it's max Christmas-Morning-Celebrate-a-Thon, we wanted to do a little giving around the neighborhood. Nothing much, just the usual Mormon culture influenced plate-o-goodies: a few iced sugar cookies, a couple rice crispy treats, some no fail ginger snaps, a scoop of bright colored Christmas candies and two to three cookie airplane treats that needed to be explained upon delivery because they could have easily been mistaken for a number of other things--namely a cigar with a peice of gum strapped to it.

Due to the fact that it is nigh unto impossible for a mother of 3 INTENSLY curious and helpful children--and a very grabby baby--to put together a plate of cookies that have not: been licked, been sneezed on, or been touched by dirty hands that were just licked or sneezed on; and that does not contain: sand, half of a container of sprinkles, or the contents of someones pocket, we kept the list down to a handful of neighbors so mom could stay vigilant over the goodies until they were safe in the neighbors home for consumption/discard as they so chose (it's totally the thought that counts).

Well, delivery proved to be fun for all of us and the neighbors appeared grateful for our humble offering. But little did we know how grateful and generous one cute little family from across the cul-de-sac really was. Upon returning home from our post-Christmas-wedding-snow-extravaganza a week into January the mother and daughter of the family slipped by with a little card. We invited them in and chatted for a while and they explained that they had tried to bring this by before but we were gone. We, of course, thanked them and opened the card later to find this:

Super nice right? Super, super nice and thoughtful, but the front of the card looked like this:

As you may have guessed by the title of this blog, they made a little mistake on our last name. Regift? We wouldn't mind, but we prefer to chalk it up to Jared's name being mistaken for Jerry, then being mistaken for his last name. It's happened before (to someone probably). We didn't let it bother us much last week as we went for the appetizer combo, lasagna plate, seafood pasta, and one kiddie meal to share between the 4 kids (it's not our fault the kids refuse to eat at restaurants). We would, however, enjoy some advice on how to break the name mistake to the neighbors sweetly so we can stay on their Christmas list for next year. Please comment with some great ideas for us!

You May Have Doubted

but I've gone and done it. The Christmas pics I pinky promised I would post. Now . . . for your viewing pleasure, I present: our family!
This is what Christmas at the Parkers------and a week with the Ercanbracks for my bro. Creighton's wedding----looks like.
(My thanks goes out to Tim and Mary who posted pics on Facebook so I could swipe a few!)

A very dark shot of our tree which was used as a hiding place, dancing partner, and a weapon (tree lights are obviously meant to be mini light-sabers), and looked much better in the dark from about Dec. 2nd on.

Showin some Andrus charm!

Afton prayed for weeks about Christmas. "Thank you that Santa is coming to town." and then afterward "thank you that we got TONZ a presents."--I love this age at Christmas.

The elephant was cast as the donkey and really made the whole thing come to life.

Davie didn't enjoy his role as the little lamb this year, as it was past his bedtime, and the cotton ball taped to his bottom didn't last long either.

I don't know how we are going to top the costumes next year. This year set a really high standard.

I have to say I was very impressed with their reverence for the nativity, and it was neat to feel of the Spirit on Christmas Eve.

Santa got a tempting spread this year! Can you tell which ones Lindsey decorated (licked), can you tell which one the Big J submitted (sprinkles).

This year Jared, er, Santa's other little helper, taught me the strategy of proper present placement throughout the room, to maximize the feeling of gift abundance on Christmas morning.

First bikes/plastic trikes that ARE called BIKES to almost 3 yr olds.

After a full day of reveling in new toys Aftie fell asleep like this in her bed.
Thank you Santie Claus, thank you--after another year of being told during every toy request at Target, "Maybe you could ask for that for Christmas," it didn't take much to help these kids feel like the luckiest kids on the block. As for me, my favorite presents were also the kid's new toys. Now (and for the next 2 months) there are fewer requests to watch TV, and more self-entertained kiddos. There is more outside play, vitamin D straight from the sun, and tired kids at the end of the day. And lest we remember just the presents this year, let's remember that our little brood, especially Deej and Afton, are understanding more and more of the meaning of the Savior's birth and how that night so long ago affects us all today.---


Then, at 2 am on the day after Christmas we woke up super early so I could get lost on the way to Utah (adding another 100 miles) for a week with my family and a beautiful wedding. Welcome to the crazy Ercanbrack way of life Michelle.

Cousin Violet let us share her celebration of 3 years with her.

There were several Dance-a-thons.

Just squeezing in a little work between the ceremony and pictures.

A romping gala with some of the High School buddies.


Bowling down at the B Y.

Bowling for burgers! I actually won (with the help of the bumpers), it was a first for me.

Genghis Khan's newest recruits. Yeah, they know how to handle a 3 ft ice cycle.

Shopping on a Budget

I just spent the last hour in a very deep conversation with my nearest and dearest. Nothing but his words, needs and interests have been at the foremost of my mind---and which background to choose for my blog. So I tried on 20 or so backgrounds (with my hands and eyes only, again, my mind was totally engaged in our conversation) and ended up with this wild piece. Who knows if it will stay for long, but it was sure fun shopping.

Dallin's Real and Actual Birthday

was on a Sunday. So the wild raging Saturday party had simmered down by then, but the family all pitched in to make the day special for him, (except for Davey who still assumes all clapping and smiling is dedicated just to him). Dallin, thus far, has been a fan of his close-to-Christmas birthday. Here he is with his birthday R/C car that drives up the walls and ceiling:

Just shortly before turning six Dallin reached the real rite of passage for elementary school kiddom--the losing of the first tooth. He is happy enough, and loving the Tooth Fairy kick-backs, but I'm not so sure I'm ready to welcome in the awkward large-tooth, small mouth, pre-braces days of elementary kids. It was a bit sudden for me, and I feel a bit half-hearted to see the cute little teeth go--or to see my cute little boy go.

Deej is Six! (as of Dec 21, 2008) hehe, late post.

How awesome is turning 6? So awesome that you get a one-of-a-kind Death Star birthday cake designed solely by your mom's own creative juices (and the sports ball Wilton cake pan set). So awesome that you get to have the sweetest cousins party known to Gilbert, all-inclusive with a stack o' Hot-N-Readys (sparing no expense for young taste buds), a big jar of Tostito's Salsa con Queso, a hastily glue-gunned graham cracker house for each guest, and a table brimming with sugary cracker house decor. So awesome that the place was decorated with the Star Wars Clone Wars party set and the shining (if not overly-glazed) eyes of children who had eaten a non-stop stream of anti-nutritious substances since walking in the door. ** Special thanks to Dylan Rich who provided each child with a pixie stick that was 2 1/2 ft long and 3/4 inch in diameter for our appetizers. Ya gotta buy somthin at the school store, why not 18 mega-sized pixies to start off your Christmas sugar blitz.** As you may have guessed--this party rocked! Only the best for our Dallin J. He IS sooo cool. {AND he got student of the month for being caring and got to eat lunch on the stage with the principle. Caring and Cool--quite the package.}

The Death Star kind of collapsed, but that was all well received, since it did that on the movie too.