Gillespie Girls

Eight Years Old!

2011-12-31T21:52:00.001-08:00

Madeleine had a Christmas party for her eighth birthday this year. That was perfect since I've been dying to dress up as Mrs. Claus and I couldn't wait to get Jeremy in a Santa suit. Wait for it. Keep scrolling down.

Elisabeth wasn't as keen on taking off her beloved nightgown and putting on the Christmasy outfit I'd laid out for her.
I love how perfectly happy we look in the photograph even though within twenty minutes Madeleine was in her room sobbing because the kids at her party were "acting too crazy" and within four hours I had my first symptoms of what would become a week-long strep throat.
Katherine was eager to be my little Elf Helper.
After having an "opening presents relay race" we ate some pizza. We also played musical chairs with Christmas music and "pass the candy cane" hot potato. And then we had our handsome visitor.
Some of the kids got so excited they attacked Jeremy and tried to rip his beard and hat off. He kept his temper, but swore to me afterward that he feels so sorry for Santa and will never, never play the Santa gig again.
But what a sweet memory. And some day when Jeremy is old and white haired he might look back on this picture with fond memories as his first rehearsal for old age.

Madeleine has made some great strides this year in learning to manage her temper and have better self control. Some days it feels like we've grown years and years in just one short year. We are so proud of her and couldn't have asked for a better example for her younger sisters.

Happy Birthday Madeleine!

Halloween 2011

2011-12-31T21:40:00.001-08:00

I'm going to do a little catch up over the next few weeks since it appears the fall got away from me. Here are our long overdue Halloween pictures. I have to add that I decided to wear my wedding dress and be Dracula's Bride BEFORE I tried my wedding dress on, naively assuming it would just slide on and fit like a glove. So, I spent all evening getting the girls ready for our church Halloween party and then with five minutes to spare hurried to put my own costume on.

And it wouldn't zip up in the back. Maybe having three kids does change a girl's figure after all. Oopps!

Within minutes I had both Madeleine and Katherine standing on my bed trying to force the zipper up. My hair was a total mess underneath the wig and I'd already applied some lovely black eye shadow...so it wasn't like I could just scrap the costume idea and show up at our ward party looking like I'd been attacked by wolves on the way there. Jeremy was late getting home from work and Madeleine took the phone into the other room to call him and let him know that, "Mom's costume doesn't fit and she is about to cry."

We finally figured out a way to zip the dress, but I'll spare you the personal details. Let's just say that when a dress is that tight who needs alternative support? And who cares if I couldn't raise my arms more than an inch all night? So note to self: Try on Halloween costumes IN ADVANCE!

Panty Time

2011-09-20T15:37:00.001-07:00

Elisabeth has arrived at that wonderful "I can wear big girl panties any time I want" age and I LOVE it! I do, I love this walking, talking sassy pants age and her obsession with underwear makes it all the more enjoyable. She often sneaks into her sisters' room to paw through their drawer and select the underwear of the day. Sometimes I'll go to change her diaper and discover she's added a pair of panties or two since earlier in the day. It's always a surprise what's going on underneath her clothes! I cannot emphasize how much I love her chubby thighs.

And wouldn't you know that panties can double as a belt!

These past couple of months since the big girls went off to school and left us home alone all day have been some of the most memorable in my eight years of parenting. I'm used to little girls roaming under foot like a band of wild Indians. Now I'm left with one little panty-wearing warrior princess, and she's lonely. So we go for walks. We eat yogurt and watch Dora. We meet friends at the park and go grocery shopping, which is her all-time favorite due to the free bakery cookie and one penny horse ride. Elisabeth is the most verbal of my three toddlers and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't crack up laughing at some of the wild things she comes up with.

Elisabeth checks the sky each day before we pick the girls up in case it's raining; she will not leave home without her "gumbrella" if it's raining. She often strolls into a room and informs me that Katherine is being mean to her. "Katherine's at school, honey," I say. "No she's not. She's being mean." Well, how can you argue with that?

Like most children it's hard to recall, on demand, the best and the funniest of Elisabeth, but she's made an impression on my heart these past few weeks, enough so that I know I'll look back on the days when it was just the two of us and feel wistful.

The First Day of School 2011

2011-08-13T14:34:00.000-07:00

We have a second grader!A first grader!
And two sisters who are SO happy to see their friends and be back in school. Elisabeth isn't so sure. About noon on the first day she set down her sandwich and said, "Okay mom, let's go pick up the girls." It was a little sad, but mostly this has been a happy, happy occasion.

A Very Jimmer Birthday

2011-08-02T09:37:00.000-07:00

I asked the girls what we should do to celebrate their dad's Birthday this year. They immediately decided on having a BYU Birthday party. We met friends at the park and ate pizza. Everyone wore their cougar gear, and we even used our cougar table cloth.

Madeleine wanted to play "Pin the Basketball on Jimmer." She was the creative director and artist.

You can see below all the basketballs that were pinned to Jimmer.

Here is a close up.

Thank you to our friends and all the little Cougar Fans who helped us celebrate!

One Crazy Summer

2011-07-27T06:46:00.000-07:00

We kicked off the summer with a long anticipated Mediterranean cruise in honor of The Dude's 60th. It's really the only way to recover from mono! We've never left our kids for ten days before, and it was amazing. I wasn't quite ready to come home, to be honest!

I am totally sold on the cruise concept. Rest. Eat. Sun bathe. Read. Amble around foreign ports for a few, unstressful hours. Repeat process.

This next picture is Dubrovnik, Croatia. We also stopped in Athens (Greece), Izmir/Ephesus (Turkey), and Split (Croatia).

We were a big group, but we were unanimous that Turkey was the best port. Ephesus was one of the most amazing places I have ever visited. Jeremy and I both finished the cruise wanting to return to Turkey. Thank you to Brian, Char, and Charie for taking our girls so that we could go.

Once home we were thrilled to have our friends from England arrive a few days later. Parker is getting so big! He can't talk back yet, which we're looking forward to, but he's already naughty enough to keep us entertained! They have come to stay in the past, but this time was especially great because Beth and Graham came too! Thank you to Paul and Natalie for getting married and creating a reason to get their fannies over here!

We rode the Pike's Peak Cog Railway, walked around Manitou Springs, had a twenty minute photo op at Garden of the Gods, and finished the day at Flying W Ranch. It was a whirlwind, and I loved it!

After three weeks I can say with confidence that Beth is a total Baby Whisperer and can charm even the grouchiest child. Graham is the most meticulous, organized packer of suitcases I've ever met. Karen's waif figure remains a mystery because she eats more crisps and drinks more root beer than most frat boys. And after years of debate I can say with satisfaction that John might be an amazing cook, but his English trifle is rubbish!

I miss my friends!

Saying goodbye is always hard, but it was awful this year. It was probably a good thing we only had a day and a half turn around time until the next party began.

We flew out to Florida for Jake and Lanie's sealing, Ashley's baptism, and four Gillespie baby blessings! Our flight was delayed and we didn't get there until 4am Florida time (2am Denver time). As you might imagine, it was a special experience with our exhausted girls. At least no one was puking.I'm sad that Mary is missing from this cousins picture. We'll get em' all next time!

At nine am in July it is already VERY hot and humid in Florida. Our best intentions for a terrific family photo didn't quite deliver...

Our trips are finished and our guests have all gone home, so we're enjoying the last of the sunny days before school begins next week.

A Purple Princess

2011-05-18T06:40:00.000-07:00

A few months ago we received a bag of hand-me-down clothes from my sister-in-law Lorie. As I sifted through it, making piles of what we wanted to keep and what we wanted to send to Goodwill, Elisabeth suddenly pulled out this purple dress...or maybe it's a nightgown. But according to Elisabeth it works perfectly for all occasions because she immediately howled for me to put it on her, and she's pretty much been wearing it ever since.

Now you need to understand that the dress is faded, the fabric is worn thin around the wrists, and in general it has seen much better days and would have been better off in the Goodwill pile. Some of you may be wondering why I don't just hurry and get rid of the rag while she's not looking. The problem is that she loves it so completely, I just can't bear to say no. I remember when I was a teenager there was a two year old girl in our ward who loved her moon boots so much she wore them all day everyday, even to church, rain or shine. Her beloved moon boots were a spectacle for the whole ward to enjoy, and that's what has happened with the purple dress. It's just too hilarious to get rid of!

Our purple dress schedule goes something like this: Elisabeth wears the purple dress to bed as a nightgown. Then she wakes up and voila, it's a dress again and she wears it all day long. At bedtime I insist it has juice stains on it and she must retire it to the laundry basket and wear clean jammies to bed. She howls and cries, and I put clean pajamas on her while she kicks and thrashes. The next morning she is eagerly digging through the dirty clothes basket in search of her dress. "It's clean, Mama!" she announces.

No, it isn't.

Two days go by during which time she is constantly reminding me, "Can you please wash my purple nightgown? It's so special." Eventually I give in and wash it, and the cycle starts over again. The only variance to this strict purple dress schedule is when Jeremy is in charge of dressing Elisabeth or getting her ready for bed. When that happens the purple dress is almost always pulled out of the dirty clothes basket, sniffed, and then handed over. "Okay honey, it's probably clean enough. You can wear it," he concludes. Push over! So on those days Elisabeth wears the purple dress for thirty-six hours instead of her usual twenty-four. Is it any wonder she's a daddy's girl?

Happy Easter

2011-04-26T14:33:00.001-07:00

This year on Easter some of us didn't waste any time opening the chocolate. Elisabeth didn't even look through her basket, she just grabbed the chocolate bunny and had her breakfast.
The Easter Bunny hides our baskets. Katherine found hers inside the blanket basket. It took her a little while to find it and she was starting to get worried. Then Jeremy told her that one year the Easter Bunny hid his basket in a false ceiling and it took him TWO hours to find it. That made her feel better, and with Madeleine's help they quickly found it.

The Easter Bunny hid Madeleine's basket in the oven. The girls were so excited to get a new pool towel, pool float, a book and a heart shaped necklace.

My favorite part of Easter is that we made it to church on time at nine am and we got to sit on the soft benches instead of the hard chairs in the back. I guess that's what happens when you're on time! When the opening hymn began I looked down the row and all three girls were singing along (the younger two like to make up their own lyrics). That was pretty much the only reverent moment of the whole day, but it was enough to make my heart surge. I love being a mother, I love little girls with curled hair and homemade hairclips, I love going to church as a family each Sunday, and I love Easter, and the opportunity to teach them about the Savior. It was a good day.

Happy Easter!

Two-Wheeler Bicycles and Leprechaun Traps

2011-03-16T21:02:00.000-07:00

Madeleine has been exceptionally busy this week. Yesterday she approached me and asked if she could please teach Katherine how to ride a two-wheeler bicycle. Now, it is basically negligent parenting that Katherine is five and a half and we've never attempted teaching her to ride a two wheeler. So, I smiled, handed Madeleine the bike helmets, and said, "Good luck."

Katherine isn't known for her attention span.
But Madeleine is her father's daughter, and is meticulous at whatever she sets out to do. Acting the part of "Yoda on wheels" was no exception.

There were a few set backs.

But within thirty minutes Katherine was cruising up and down the sidewalk, easy as you like.

So, today, while Katherine was riding her two-wheeler outside, Madeleine and I started putting the finishing touches on her school project that is due tomorrow: a Leprechaun Trap. Over the past couple of weeks I helped her brainstorm ideas, but ultimately Madeleine called the shots and was absolute creative director. She seemed so confident in her plan that I allowed myself to be lured into that false sense of security that parents sometimes get, assuming everything is Just Fine... when in reality it is not. Thirty minutes before bed time tonight Madeleine burst into tears and began sobbing hysterically that her trap wasn't strong enough to hold a real, actual Leprechaun.

That's when her dad finally decided to step in. Now the underlying concept of this trap is that Madeleine has decorated a cardboard box with the specific intention of luring in an unsuspecting Leprechaun. If you look closely you will notice a rainbow, Lucky Charms cereal taped in haphazard places, a paper Leprechaun that we hope looks convincingly real (we're trying to trick the real Leprechaun into making friends), a rainbow flavored lollipop, and a pot of gold (pennies).

Our original plan was to line the floor of the box with duct tape, sticky side up, in order to trap the Leprechaun inside the box. But in the final hour Madeleine concluded that the duct tape simply wasn't strong enough to keep a conniving Leprechaun down. So her dad added the blue "cup" contraption that is dangling from the ceiling. We are hoping the Leprechaun mistakes the blue cup for a chandalier, and when he steps inside the box, the cup will come crashing down and trap him inside. Two foils are better than one!

After we tucked her into bed she whispered, "Dad, maybe we should take the cup down. Maybe it won't work afterall." After enduring over an hour of her dissatisfied crying, I thought in that moment Jeremy's head might explode. But he just gave a curt nod and said, "We'll talk about it in the morning. Go to sleep."

Madeleine then confided in me that the only true evidence that her Leprechaun Trap is a success will be if she catches a REAL one. "I am dying for a pet."

I hope this is one of those monstrous parenting headaches that magically transforms into a happy memory someday.

Katherine-isms

2011-02-25T13:41:00.000-08:00

I know I JUST posted about this crazy girl, but I had to "write" down our latest Katherine-isms before I forget them.

Deep Thought Number One: Mom, did you know I can think of only one person who is kind of like Superman. Dad!

Deep Thought Number Two: When I grow up I am going to wear immodest clothes whenever I feel like it.

Deep Thought Number Three: (We have just finished scriptures and prayers) When I grow up, I am going to have ALCOHOL! And DRUGS too! This followed by a whooping and hollering and celebration dance around her bedroom.

Now we'll move away from Deep Thoughts and on to Complaints

Complaint Number One: Chores? I am not the maid in this family!

Complaint Number Two: I feel like you don't love me as much as Madeleine because you are taking care of her. Well, Madeleine is sick, I say. See, you do love her more!

Complaint Number Three: Elisabeth just scratched my face and there are chunks of skin missing from my face. Are you okay? I ask. Yes. Can I have a treat?

If a lil' bit of butter is good, a whole scoop is better!

2011-02-13T20:00:00.000-08:00

We made popcorn for an afternoon snack. I looked over and noticed something extra on Katherine's plate. That yellowish creamy stuff is butter. I didn't want to melt butter in the microwave to pour over her popcorn, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. Behold, Brian Gillespie's granddaughter:

Super Bowl Mania

2011-02-07T08:55:00.001-08:00

While we were getting ready for our Superbowl party I found Madeleine in her father's closet borrowing one of his Cougar shirts. "What'cha doing?" I asked, "getting ready for the big game? Do you know that the Cougs aren't playing in the Superbowl this time?"

"Oh," she looked stumped. "So what am I supposed to wear?" Apparently the Cougar indoctrination runs deeper than I suspected.

Just before our guests arrived I finished setting out the food: Cheese tray. Cranberry walnut bread. Asian chicken salad with spinach.... And lots of fresh fruit. Just as I was proudly surveying the feast Jeremy walked in the kitchen and stopped fast. "What?" I asked. "Is this too much like chick-food for a Super Bowl party?"

"It's totally gay," he said with a smile. "But I love you and I'm not complaining. I'm just happy you're willing to watch the game." The true reason he didn't mind my chick food is that he and my brother had their own snacks prepared:

Chips.

Caffeine.

And Jeremy's second annual Super Bowl "Bacon Explosion." Our house still smells like meat.

The good news is that in the last quarter of the game I took advantage of my young nephews and made some bets with them on who would win. And I am now the proud winner of a free babysitting voucher and a one time toilet cleaning. It wasn't until after they lost that they thought to say, "Aunt Lauren, I think gambling is wrong?" Well, it's a little late for those kind of morals isn't it my chickadees! Hooray for Superbowl parties!

Backyardigans vs. BYU Cougars

2011-02-05T14:12:00.001-08:00

These days BYU's star pointguard Jimmer Fredette is practically a family member. If I ever succeed in producing a male heir, we might have to name him Jimmer. Jimmer and the Cougs are playing this afternoon, but not everybody in the family is equally excited. One person in particular feels STRONGLY that Backyardigans would be the better choice.

Ten minutes later and still screaming. Time Out. (Of course mom is really helping this situation by laughing her head off with camera in hand).

Okay, toys make everything better.

Except daddy is misunderstanding the assignment. He can't go back to watching Jimmer. He needs to sit and keep playing toys.

Ah, the sweet ignorance of youth. She'll learn soon enough. Men and sports. It's the circle of life.

Silly Pants

2011-01-31T19:08:00.000-08:00

This is a random post, just two pics I wanted to share:

She gets her fashion sense from her daddy. Onesie, check. Tights, check. Tinkerbell undies, check.

Also, Jer got new glasses, We're going for geek chic this time. Our friends told him he looks like a Danish architect! The change is such a dramatic difference we all startle everytime he walks into the room.

It's zero degrees in Denver today. School is closed and we're hiding out in the house. Stay warm and drive safely!

Sick

2011-01-26T10:38:00.000-08:00

We have a sick girl at our house today and I didn't get enough sleep last night. Not the best combination. I set out breakfast and then retreated upstairs to lie down. I left my door open so I could "supervise" and within two minutes I could hear a tussle. That's code for Katherine disciplining a screaming Elisabeth. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to find my happy place until Katherine dragged Elisabeth upstairs and locked her in my bedroom with me. That's one way to get rid of the two year old menace. I re-opened my door and set Elisabeth free, and stayed in bed for another twenty minutes. When I came downstairs to settle the next tussle, I found furniture knocked over.

Applesauce all over the table and dripping down onto a chair where Elisabeth stood systematically licking it off with her index finger.

And a half-eaten apple core on the carpet, among the other messes. I wish I could have called in sick today.

But at least one person is happy. She screamed for fifteen minutes until we realized she was asking us to put her shoes on. We found shoes, strapped them to her feet, and that is all it took. When you're two it's the little things that count. When you're a mom, it's sleep!

Terribly Two

2011-01-20T13:53:00.000-08:00

Don't tell Elisabeth, but we missed her birthday this year. In our defense, we spent the entire day traveling home from Hawaii and after our all-night flight and airport delays, we were in no shape to be celebrating. And in particular, I was in no mood to celebrate her turning two. Elisabeth didn't need a birthday party to make two years old official since everyone within ear shot of her screaming knows that she is terribly, terribly two.

So in lieu of a proper party and presents, we piggy backed on my nephew Dylan's ninth birthday. This year he told his mom the only thing he wanted for his birthday was to go to Aunt Lauren's house to go sledding and eat scones. So that is what we did.

You don't get fat cheeks by turning down scones!

I love Dylan! At nine years old he is already so great with the younger girls. We love having Dylan come over because he organizes fun games for the younger kids and they stay preoccupied and quiet for hours. But my favorite thing about Dylan is that he is a natural born entrepreneur. If there is money to be earned, Dylan will find a way. A couple of months ago I was at their house when Dylan asked if he could rake up "a few leaves" and earn some money. They agreed to pay him a dollar per bag. An hour later Dylan had ten bags of leaves tied up and waiting in the front yard.

Since we got home from our trip Elisabeth has colored the kitchen floor with black marker, rubbed chapstick in her hair right after her bath, and tossed an entire bowl of chicken noodle soup on the freshly mopped floor because it wasn't what she wanted for lunch that day. So, it somehow felt appropriate that she share her birthday with Dylan. After all, Dylan's mother reports that he might possibly have been the most hideous toddler in the history of the world, and look how nice he is turning out. Maybe there's hope.

Happy New Year from Hawaii

2011-01-10T11:37:00.000-08:00

We spent the New Year on the Big Island of Hawaii with my sister Carolyn's family and the other extended family hanger's on! We went to bed the night before our trip around one am, satisfied that we were packed and the house was sparkling clean. Around four am Madeleine woke us up by saying the dreaded, "I feel like I'm going to throw up." And throw up she did. Five times during our three flights to Hawaii. To make it extra fun Katherine ate too many snacks and then became air sick, and at one point we had TWO girls puking at the exact same time. You can imagine how popular we were on that flight.

But when we woke up the next day the pukes had disappeared and what we found was beautiful beaches and a handful of that alien species... little boys! My sister has three beautiful,wild little boys and I don't think my girls quite knew what to do. They waffled between joining the wild rumpus and trying to force their boy cousins to "snuggle." We had such a great time and I was so impressed with how fun and smart my nephews are. They were truly delightful!

At home we live a very structured life based around bedtimes and naptimes. But since we were on island time, poor Elisabeth was forced to nap the good old fashioned way. Wherever she happened to fall asleep.

Saying goodbye was difficult. Our three day trip felt much too short, especially since "next time" is lost to the indefinite future. But one of my new favorite sayings is, "Don't be sad that it is over, be happy that it happened."

And be happy that when we left it was to fly on a puddle jumper over to the island of Kauai.
Not the worst way to begin 2011.

My kids went crazy over the feral chickens and roosters that roam all over the island. They hung out along side us at the pool and wherever we went. Sometimes we tried to gently cluck at them and lure them over to us. Sometimes we chased them and shrieked with laughter. The game never got old.

There are nearly fifty monk seals living around the shores of Kauai and since they hunt nocturnally, they spend their days lying in an exhausted, sound sleep on the local beaches. We saw two sleeping monk seals out on our beach during our one week stay.

Business as usual! Jane recently bought dad a Kindel to make reading more convenient with his constant traveling. So Dad promptly downloaded his crossword puzzles. There was much clucking from all of us during this vacation at Dad's abandonment of the whole "read a book" idea in favor of doing his beloved crosswords. I love this photo.

Seven is the perfect age. She swims like a fish, self-entertains, and enthusiastically appreciated the smaller delights of an island vacation, like body surfing and fruit smoothies. After our exhausting New Year's festivities Madeleine started off in Kauai as Little Miss Grumpy, and my dad commented that she may have frown lines by age twenty, but she recovered and the rest of the week was a delight. Especially following my eleven year old sister Nicky around.

"Look at me guys!" was the phrase of the week. The middle child syndrome was alive and kicking during this trip. Katherine couldn't decide if she wanted the attention of her baby sister, or if she wanted to be included with the bigger girls.

Elisabeth turned two yesterday. Her tantrums were frequent enough and loud enough that three separate guests at the resort came over to tell me that they had noticed what a strong personality our little girl has. That's one way to put it.

There are many adventures to be had on the island of Kauai. We experienced very few of them, opting to stay close to the water.

It was perfect.

And we can't say thank you enough to my dad and Jane for bringing us along. We definitely had a HAPPY start to our new year.

Rudolph's Revenge

2010-12-20T13:41:00.000-08:00

My sister-in-law, Lorie, thought it sounded fun to do a 5k race. In December. I always have a hard time with peer pressure, especially when it sounds like a party, so I cautiously agreed. It was 34 degrees outside when I left my house Saturday morning.

All the runners attached nifty trackers to their shoes so that the race officials could keep track of us and our times. I think it's a good system, especially since the course went past a bakery. Left to my own devices, I could see myself getting side tracked. Hot cocoa...mmmm.

We weren't quite first, but we weren't quite last either. And since I forgot it was a race and had a great time chatting away to Lorie, I almost forgot I'd voluntarily gotten out of bed on a freezing Saturday morning in order to exercise. Stranger things have happened, although perhaps not many!

Seven

2010-12-14T20:37:00.001-08:00

I can't believe my girl is seven years old.

We started the party with blueberry pancakes, new earrings, and a shirt "with words on it" to wear to school. Apparently seven years old means you need shirts with words. The new hot cocoa mug was a hit since we still love all things Minnie.

We painted nails and curled hair before school which was absolutely crazy. To make matters worse, when we went to put in her new earrings (her very first time taking out her studs) we discovered infected ears. That led to a loud round of screaming and crying ten minutes before we left for school. "My ears are hurting but I want to wear my new earrings SO badly!" Oh, the drama.

But in the end we got the new earrings in, and she was thrilled. We alternate each year between friend parties and family-only parties, and since this year was family-only I really wanted to pack the day full of special surprises. Katherine helped with the special surprise part by flooding the upstairs bathroom so much it leaked through the floor and dripped down from the ceiling all over our family room carpet below. She decided to make amends by helping me make lunch. Two minutes later she and her sliced open finger dripping blood everywhere came to report that maybe she shouldn't have tried to cut the cheese by herself. Luckily, I think our ceiling, carpet, and her finger will survive.

After school we did homework and then rushed to Chuck E. Cheese. I feel like putting on rubber gloves and a mask every time I step through the doors of that cess pit, but the recent renovations helped. And since it was Tuesday, we pretty much had the place to ourselves. Our girls are officially the perfect ages to appreciate Chuck E. Cheese. Not old enough to turn their noses up at disgusting pizza, and young enough to think tokens are magical. Elisabeth was in hog heaven!

We finished off our festivities with a girls' night out to see the movie "Tangled." Since Madeleine's final gift was new p.j.'s, we made it a pajama party.

Katherine felt so grown up staying out late with us. She promised Madeleine ahead of time that she would NOT talk during the movie, which was one of the conditions in allowing her to tag along. But of course she spent most of the movie sitting in my lap offering a running commentary on how terrible the old hag is, and how she doesn't think Rupunzel's hair cut at the end is cute AT ALL.

As I drove two sleepy girls home I asked Madeleine how it feels to be seven.

"The best thing about being seven is I don't feel little anymore." My heart went thump, thump in my chest. But don't worry, I didn't lecture her that she will always be my little girl.

Freshly Squeezed

2010-12-12T19:00:00.000-08:00

Last night while I was doing the dinner dishes my two older girls started squeezing their orange slices into a glass to make fresh orange juice. When they ran out of orange slices, they moved on to peeling Clementines, sealing them into a ziplock bag, smashing them with their fists, and then "pouring" the residual fresh orange juice into the glass.

I left them alone to perfect their juice-making wizardry while I went up to put the little one to bed. When I started to come back downstairs they shouted, "Don't come down mom! We are making a surprise for you." So I waited for a few minutes at the top of the stairs, wondering if I should be worried as the smell the of toaster oven wafted up the stairs.

A few minutes later they proudly carried a tray of fresh orange juice and cinnamon toast up to me, all smiles. "We even cleaned the kitchen," Katherine bragged, "so that you don't have to spend your whole life cleaning up after us!" I wonder where she's heard that phrase before?

Your Typical Tuesday

2010-12-07T19:01:00.000-08:00

Elisabeth has a double ear infection and her cruel, unfeeling mother was trying to cook dinner instead of holding her. She weighs about twenty-eight pounds now folks, so carting her around on my hip gets old fast. Lucky for me, Big Sister came to the rescue.

I glanced over from the kitchen and saw them snuggled up together reading. I love seeing my girls acting tender toward each other without being compelled. But the real question isn't "Why is Madeleine being so sweet," it is "Where is Katherine while all this is going on?" Katherine is usually at the center of everything. I found her upstairs unloading her entire bookcase into a laundry basket. Of course when I asked why, she couldn't give me an easy answer.

Other highlights of today include me helping Madeleine with her homework assignment on "Traditions." We were trying to decide which of our holiday traditions she should write about when she gave a long sigh and said, "Everyone celebrates Christmas. It would be much more interesting if we celebrated Kwanza instead, then I could write about that."

Tonight I was rocking Elisabeth at bedtime and softly singing "Silent Night." Since she doesn't feel well, she tucked her head under my chin and reached her arms around my neck. Just as I started to exhale that total mommy contentment, I heard a slurping noise. I craned my neck to see what was sucking on. Chubby index finger. Little nose. Slimy boogers. Open Mouth.

Rocking time was over for the evening.

It's eight-fifteen and I'm ready for bed. And it's only Tuesday.

Our Very Own Charlie Brown Christmas Tree

2010-11-29T12:55:00.000-08:00

This year we bought a permit and set out with some friends to chop down a Christmas tree in the mountains. Who knew that Smokey the Bear would be there waiting for us?

One of us was determined not to rush the process. We tried to carry her, but Elisabeth was adamant about her desire to walk. And so we ambled along, at a whopping pace of fifteen feet per hour. Eventually we decided to implement Plan B, which involved the dads going on ahead into the wildnerness to search for Christmas trees. The moms and kids stayed behind to play "Pioneers" and "Hide & Seek". Unfortunately, the dads came back empty handed. This was surprising, since we were in the Rocky Mountains and all, but apparently there is a shortage of aesthetically appealing pine trees in that particular area.

Since lunch time (and nap time!) were fast approaching we finally looked around and said, "Um, okay. How about that one!"

Thank goodness we brought our trusty Boy Scout along to secure our tree to the roof of the car. Since the tree only has eleven branches, we couldn't afford losing any of them on the drive home.

Perhaps a bit anorexic looking, but no matter. We found, chopped down, and carted home our very own Christmas tree!

"Church Throat"

2010-11-22T13:53:00.001-08:00

A Primary worker brought Katherine to me during Sunday School yesterday. Apparently she was complaining of a sore throat. After getting a drink of water, it wasn't any better, so they came to find me. She didn't have any visible symptoms, but I did the responsible thing and brought her home early. She ate a hearty lunch and began to go about her usual business of taking out every single toy in our toy room. I finally said, "Kate, you sure don't seem sick to me." Her response: "I think I had church throat. My throat hurt while I was at church, but now I'm home I feel just fine."

Is there a delicate way to let her Primary teacher know that unless she can produce a fever, hacking cough, mucus, vomit, or blood, she is probably just bored and trying to get out of church?

Some people's kids!

Seventies Day

2010-11-05T13:30:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was "Seventies Day" at our elementary school, which news brought a long sigh from me. Didn't we dress up for Halloween less than a week ago? Hello?

Unfortunately we didn't find much in our closets in the way of authentic seventies outfits, so we improvised. My girls didn't really care, so long as they got to wear their tie-dye shirts and their home-made "Peace" necklaces. They dragged me out of bed nearly an hour earlier than usual so that I could help them "part their hair in the middle" and bust out my glue gun to make daisy hair clips. By the time both girls were at school I was feeling quite proud of the enthusiasm I had mustered, not to mention ready for a quick nap.

Yet that self-satisfied mommy feeling was short-lived. Madeleine came home in a bad mood and by the time we'd slogged through homework, chores, and getting dressed for dance she was Done. Now I've got seven years under my belt of little girl temper tantrums, but yesterday was something entirely new. Instead of the usual whining and crying, she very logically explained all the ways I am failing her, and gave me an itemized list of things I ought to do differently. So convincing was her lecture that I sent her off to dance feeling completely bewildered. Since when is my not-yet seven year old disillusioned with her mother? And she told me twice this week that I was embarrassing her. All this, and I got up an hour early to do her hair for seventies day.

Horrible, ungrateful child of mine.

I had the chance to air my grievances to some friends last night, and so I woke up today feeling like I had my armor strapped on a little tighter. The thing about raising children is that we are not going to get it right all the time. Even when we wake up at unholy hours to make seventies day a success, we still might fail in small, or sometimes larger ways. What I'm taking from this experience is that if I'm bound to fail sometimes, I should expect it and not allow my child to rake me over the coals for it. Next time I will nod sympathetically and say, "Yes, it is terrible to be you somedays. I feel like that too. Now go get your ballet shoes."

Their criticism shouldn't weaken our resolve, or our enthusiasm. We parents are doing the best we can, and that is enough to allow us to move confidently. I believe my girls will eventually come to admire my resilience, even if I do occasionally embarass them!

Happy Halloween

2010-10-31T18:49:00.001-07:00

We packed A LOT of Halloween fun into our weekend.

Jeremy worked from home Friday so that we could attend Madeleine's parade and party at school, and Katherine's PM Kindergarten parade and party after lunch. We had our ward Trunk or Treat later on that evening.

Little Bo Peep did great keeping track of her sheep, except for that naughty black sheep.

We stayed up until midnight almost every night this week gluing cotton balls.

Katherine's school parade.

Sweet Little Lamb! She's so chubby we worried someone might try and cook her up for dinner with mint sauce on the side!

There's no such thing as too much mascara, was Madeleine's rule this weekend. Bo Peep was diligent about touching up her make up.

Someone was ready to Trick or Treat as soon as we got home from church! Jeremy took them to a few neighbors houses, but mostly we just had fun answering the door, drinking hot cider and eating homemade ginger snaps. We had such a great weekend, and the best news of all is that tomorrow is November 1st, so we can put up our Christmas Tree!!!

Well, Jeremy said no. Party Pooper! At least not tomorrow. But soon...

Fall Break

2010-10-27T12:45:00.001-07:00

I am truly savoring these years of homemade Halloween decorations taped haphazardly around my house and the absolute little girl hysteria that comes with choosing our pumpkins. Last week was Fall Break and we visited not one, but two local pumpkin patches. We also went to the Rec Center, the Denver Science and Nature Museum, we took a day trip up into the mountains to explore and wade in the icy stream, and we ended the week with a whirlwind visit from Nana Jane, Dude, Madi and Nicky. We had such a great time together, and I just love that my girls are getting old enough to be good company. And what a relief to finally be at a stage of life where I'm not constantly wishing to hit the fast forward button. Here are a few examples of how each girl brings her own brand of silly to our little family:

MADELEINE

At six years old, Madeleine is starting to say funny things, which I love. We were encouraging her to share something with her younger sister and she was being stubborn about not sharing, and finally said, "Hey, why are you guys looking at me with Weiner Dog eyes?"

This morning Madeleine lost yet another tooth. "Hey mom, did you know my teeth are all falling out in your bathroom or in dad's closet?"

On Monday night we talked about blessings during family home evening and we were listing some of our family's blessings. "Elisabeth!" Madeleine piped up. "My baby sister is a wonderful blessing. Oh, and Minnie Mouse. Minnie blesses our family too." If you know Madeleine then you know that anyone who makes the same cut as Minnie Mouse must be pretty darn special.

KATHERINE

Okay, so this feels slightly disloyal, but I have to say that watching Katherine during her hour long gymnastics class each Wednesday is one of the most painful and hilarious things I have been forced to witness as a parent. She loves, loves, loves gymnastics, but let's just say it ain't pretty. I take turns trying not to crack up and trying to avert my eyes.

Katherine also loves watching "Chopped" with me on the Food Network, and lately has requested that she be in charge of fixing snacks or lunch. I just love these little glimpses at her budding creativity.

ELISABETH

This child only listens to Rock n'Roll. She cries whenever I play soft music in the car, and she howls and thrashes when my one and only Joni Mitchell song comes on. Jeremy thinks this proves her good instincts.

We bought hot pink boots to get us through winter this year, and Elisabeth loves them. She is excited to put them on first thing in the morning, and again when she wakes up from her nap. I do believe you will be seeing some pictures of a little girl in pink boots in the months to come. I love pink, I love little girls, and I love that this child of mine isn't yet two years old and already knows which shoes she wants to wear. Truly, a girl after my own heart!

Why Do Artists Do What They Do?

2010-10-16T19:53:00.000-07:00

There have been some unique difficulties about this week, not the least of which was Madeleine catching acute strep throat, or scarlet fever, as it used to be called. Each day as I've handed her a medicine dropper filled with bright pink liquid, I've marveled at the miracle of antibiotics. Children used to die of scarlet fever all the time. And after a couple of days on the couch Madeleine is back at school, good as new. We live in a different world from our predecessors.

But the general noisiness of life has been getting to me this week. So, yesterday while I was out doing errands I noticed a cd collection of piano music, and I immediately tossed it in my cart. There is almost nothing in this world that calms me down like piano music. When I got out to my car I put in the first cd and started listening to Beethoven's "Adagio Cantabile from Sonata Pathetique." I almost had to pull the car over to the side of the road. I'm not musically literate, not even a little bit, but the music was so pure and beautiful my eyes actually filled with tears. It was kind of embarrassing.

I've never studied music. Growing up my family didn't possess a particular zest for the piano, although my dad and a couple of my sisters play quite well. I remember listening to my younger sister play while we were in high school, and sometimes I would stop in the hallway and just stand there listening. I suppose my tenderness for the piano must have started back then, and it has been laying dormant all these years. Recently there have been other times, like in the car yesterday, when I've surprised myself by how affected I am by the music.

One of the things that I find most inspiring about music and art is that their creators have all the same responsibilities of living that the rest of us do. Artists have to eat, sleep, pay bills and trim their hangnails. Yet amid the chaos of everyday living they find time to create something, to bring beauty into our world. Why is it that artists do this? Because they inherently need to, want to, are encouraged to do so...or do they simply feel the void and put pen to paper or brush to canvas in order to fill it? Whatever the reason, I'm grateful. It used to be that only aristocratic, ticket holding patrons could participate in the arts. Again, we live in a different world. We should all, in our google search and youtubing way, take advantage of that.

Coming Down from Conference Weekend

2010-10-04T12:43:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up General Conference was synonymous with building elaborate blanket forts and inhaling junk food with my sisters. As a college student I watched conference with the single objective of spending hours sitting on the couch next to good-looking guys. Those are all good memories. But fortunately for my family, I have come to appreciate through the years how significantly General Conference weekend can impact my life. If I make the effort.

Over the years I have evolved from throwing Conference "parties," complete with specific food menus and guest lists, to doing the complete opposite. We do our best to drain our schedules of unnecessary or optional events, and plan ahead for meals that are yummy but not time consuming. The goal is noble, but the outcome is usually frustrating as the inevitable compromises are made. What we hope to have happen is to fall into bed Sunday night feeling completely rested, calm, and spiritually sated.

That wasn't quite how it happened last night. Jeremy had a major presentation due at work this morning, my dad came to town for the day on Saturday, and darn it, things never go as smoothly as you hope! As I sat in bed reading over the brief notes I had tried to make during conference, I picked out half a dozen points that felt directly applicable to my life. But what should be hopeful quickly felt overwhelming. Where to begin? Where to begin? Like usual I felt better this morning. Pick one, I told myself. Start somewhere, and don't forget you have six more months to work on these things. There are so many opportunities to start fresh and try again.

Hectic or not, I love conference weekend!

Love What You Do

2010-09-30T11:51:00.000-07:00

Between the hours of 12:30 and 2:30pm, Monday through Friday, the world is mine.

The complaint of many mothers, to say nothing of humans in general, is that we live beneath the percussion of other people's demands. As much as we each yearn to feel our lives belong to us, in reality they often don't. We belong to our children, our bosses, our spouses, and the needs of our physical bodies. I think these personal responsibilities are a lot like gravity. They keep us steady in our shoes, offering a sense of rhythm, security, and focus against the uncertainty of what comes next. But they can also make us feel stuck.

When I took a break from my teaching job last month I immediately started constructing a barbed wire fence around the few precious hours my girls are in school and napping. No, I cannot watch your kids, give you a ride, talk to you on the phone, or clean the house, I have insisted. I worried that little waves of unpleasantness might come from this decision, when in fact the opposite has occured. I'm necessarily more efficient during the rest of my day because, let's face it, some one has to do the laundry. And I have about two hundred family members I try to keep in touch with, which is tricky for someone like me who prefers old fashioned methods of communication. When is the last time someone mailed you a letter?

Another sweet side effect of defending this early afternoon appointment is an increased willingness to be present when my kids are around. Yesterday Elisabeth suddenly became interested in kissing. She has been dodging my kisses her entire life, the little stinker, but out of the blue she is crawling on my lap, content to sit there for ten minutes staring into my eyes and offering kisses. Wow. And this is the same child who inspired me to drag an extra carseat upstairs from the basement so that I can strap her into Time Out. I'm learning to appreciate the volatile moods of this little girl. My other babies didn't hug their chubby arms around my neck as tightly as she does, and they didn't choose to go to bed hungry rather than eat something other than chicken nuggets for dinner.

For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things. If not so [...] righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wickedness, neither holiness, nor misery, neither good nor bad (The Book of Mormon, 2 Nephi 2:11).

The good parts of life mean so much when everything else can feel so incredibly hard.

Most days the brief interlude of "my time" amounts to scribbling and/or dozing off with my nose in a book. So, what's the point of blowing a bit of air into your dreams for a couple of hours each day? I'll tell you. If you blow hard enough and long enough, those dreams begin to rise.

All I Want for Christmas Is...

2010-09-28T14:21:00.001-07:00

Last night I came home from doing laps at the local rec center to find Jeremy and Madeleine sitting on the bathroom floor talking. It was after nine o'clock. On a school night. I demanded why such a basic rule as 7:30 bedtime was being transgressed, and by way of answering Madeleine moved the wash cloth that she was holding in front of her mouth. Her only remaining front tooth, her Nanny McFee tooth as I've been fondly calling it, was dangling precariously.

"So pull the tooth out," I said impatiently, not understanding the crisis. Madeleine pulled away from me like a wounded animal, and Jeremy gathered her up in his arms, giving me a long look.

"I've got this," he said tersely. I worked out the translation of that phrase to be something along the lines of, "Obviously you aren't sensitive enough to understand how traumatic this is for our tender hearted little daughter, so go away."

I was quite happy to go take a shower, as planned, but for the life of me I couldn't understand why he didn't just hold her flailing arms down with one hand and rip the stupid tooth out. My incredulity increased as time lapsed, and by nine-forty I was set to march in there and finish the job my self. "Such a delicate way you have with small creatures," Jeremy often says to me.

To his credit, I will concede the point that as ludicrous and indulgent as Jeremy's behavior seemed, there was something endearing at the sight of Madeleine curled in his lap, deliriously tired and sobbing into his chest her fears of how much it would hurt to have the tooth pulled.

Daddy's girls! What are you gonna do?

Remembering September 11th

2010-09-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

This month I've thought a lot about the twin towers, and what happened on September 11th, 2001. It's a difficult subject to write about, for me anyways, but I want my daughters to know something of that day. I remember getting a letter from a roommate who was serving a mission when the terrorist attacks occurred, and in her letter she said, "Wow. It sounds like the attacks on September 12th were pretty bad." When I read that letter it was only a couple of weeks after the towers had fallen, and even though my friend was on the other side of the world (in fact it probably was nearly September 12th in her time zone when the attacks happened) I felt irritated that she'd gotten the date wrong. It wasn't her fault, of course. But there are some things, some events and memories, that I feel the need to protect and keep whole. I occasionally see slogans that say, "September 11th, 2001: We Remember." I suppose that is what I want. Some sort of remembering or acknowledgement of how our safe, American way of life changed on that day.

I was sitting in a staff meeting with the BYU writing center when someone whispered that a plane had crashed into one of the towers. I was barely awake, it being seven o'clock in the morning, but hearing that news made me uncomfortable. My limbs felt heavy, my eyes were stinging, and I wanted nothing more than to stretch out on the floor and go back to sleep. But I didn't doze off, because an undercurrent of anxiety continued to nag at me throughout the hour.

After my meeting I walked across campus and found myself in a group of a hundred students watching the news broadcast in the Wilkenson Center. One of the towers was on fire. The unsettled feeling I had suddenly clicked, and I hurried to the campus office where I worked and dialed my dad's cell phone number. This is what the message said, "Hi, this is Dan. I'll be in New York for the rest of the week, but leave a message and I'll call you back." I knew that some of his company offices were housed in the World Trade Center, so what kind of message would I leave? I hung up the phone and called my older sister.

My impressions of the next seven or eight hours are vague. My sister was sobbing. I remember walking into a lecture hall filled with a couple hundred students and just standing there, dazed, looking around for Jeremy. We went home. We watched the footage of the towers collapsing over and over again, and then we drove over to the Red Cross and tried to donate blood. The line was wrapped around the building.

It was late in the afternoon when I finally reached our close family friends in London, where my family was living at the time. The lines were so tied up it was the first phone call that successfully went through. Without even saying hello, Tina said, "We know. We're watching it right now." I cannot express what it meant that our English friends were watching and worried. There was something about the blending of nationalities that gave me a feeling of solidarity I

hadn't felt all day.

"And what about my dad?" I said.

"He's here, he's here," she assured me. "I guess he finished his work a day early, and came home yesterday."

I sat until the middle of the night, wrapped in a blanket on my couch, watching the horror of September 11th unfold. My dad was safe. But, two hundred and ninety-five of his company employees, plus sixty consultants, died when the towers fell. A total of 2, 752 death certificates were filed relating to the attacks on September 11th. A few weeks later, when that number was released, I remember sitting at a BYU football game staring into the crowd of fans, wondering what a group of 2, 752 people looks like. How many rows or sections? I spent part of one quarter counting, and finally stopped, concluding that it was a lot of people.

Sometimes I wonder if the survivors of Pearl Harbor, or D-day, become impatient with the younger generations who couldn't recall the date of those events if their lives depended on it. Who aren't even sure what happened all those years ago. Many of us have traumatic memories associated with September 11th, but personal stories aside, the teacher part of me wonders why it is important that we do remember. That we know what happened and when. If I were teaching a class I would ask students to write about what they were doing on September 11th. Then I would ask them to make a list of the changes in our culture and society that can be traced back to that day.

Aristotle said, "If you would understand anything, observe its beginning and its development."

It's easier to not think about the hard things, and to allow the terrible tragedies in our country's history to be someone else's story. But I resent that sort of passivity. I think we lose touch with our collective, human experience when we look away, and we forfeit the opportunity to understand.

Eat, Pray, Love in Highlands Ranch

2010-09-15T12:32:00.000-07:00

I've wanted to write about Elizabeth Gilbert's book Eat, Pray, Love for a long time, and after seeing the movie this week I decided it's time.

Depending on who you talk to, this particular memoir is a landmine. Let's start with the obvious. In the first few chapters of the book Gilbert launches into a solipsistic tirade about her divorce (which was her own fault), and the hardships of being lonely, single, and generally unloved. When you couple her self-centered pity party with her abrasive personality, it is easy to see why people put the book down and declare it everything that is wrong with our society today.

For those readers who interpret this story as a prescriptive method of finding happiness in life, you are bound to be disappointed. I know few people who have emerged from divorce feeling that they have finally Arrived, and I know fewer people who have the time and/or means to gallivant around Italy, India, and Indonesia wondering What It All Means. The concern that this book will influence disillusioned women to endorse Gilbert's narcissitic worldview is valid, and the phrase "monkey see, monkey do" comes to mind. So what's left to talk about?

Yet, watching the movie version of Eat, Pray, Love helped enormously to distill the central draw of the story. For me, the most immediate divergence from the book was actress Julia Robert's success in softening Gilbert's character, smoothing her edges and eliciting compassion and sympathy from the audience. The focus of the narrative shifts away from Gilbert's self-pity, and hones in on the more palatable aspect of the story, which is her subsequent search for spiritual peace, healing, and fulfillment. Some will maintain that Hollywood worked its usual magic, applying just enough foundation to cover up the warts. But notwithstanding the ruffles and glitter, I believe the movie successfully unearths themes and topics worth thinking about.

I've read Eat, Pray, Love several times, and each time I marvel at my willingness to endure the sob story. As an unsympathetic reader, I could hardly understand its seemingly magnetic appeal. But watching Roberts perform the same motions, only from the perspective of an infinitely more likeable person, it suddenly clicked. For me the real and true part of the story isn't the person, I loathe most everything about Elizabeth Gilbert. Yet suddenly I recognized within the movement of the narrative myself, and fifty other women I know. How many of us quietly move through our lives harboring the exact same questions, impulses, and doubts that plagued Gilbert? Find me a woman who hasn't laid in bed weeping, wondering why she can't seem to land on her feet, feeling disoriented about what she wants and who she is meant to be. I'm not specifically referring to marriage either. That may have been the crux of Gilbert's identity crisis, but there are countless reasons for the loss of spirit and gradual untethering among women. That terrible aloneness is the human condition, and without spiritual conviction, or even on days when it's there but hard to reach, we're all susceptible.

When I returned home from the movie Jeremy asked me about my favorite part. My knee-jerk response was watching Julia Roberts eat her way around Italy (a long time dream of mine!), but the real answer tumbled out right after it, suprising both of us. My favorite part of the movie was when she got down on her knees and prayed. Out loud. To God. How many popular, main stream books or movies depict religious devotion in a respectful way? Jean Val Jean from Les Miserables and Jeremiah Land from Leif Enger's novel Peace Like a River? Of course there are more, but my point is that it might take you forty minutes to come up with a working list. In a culture where religion is definitely not in vogue, seeing someone kneel in prayer asking for help blows my mind. And for me, that's it. That's the draw. The thematic exploration of spiritual longing is both relevant and much needed in our society.

I suspect that many readers who are secure and well-versed in a particular religion might feel a tad impatient with Gilbert's spiritual dog paddling, or even disdainful of her sojourn to the Indian ashram. Of course spiritual peace and a knowledge of God do not require foreign, exotic vacations, but they often do require that we step outside our normal, everyday lives. For Gilbert perhaps this required more dramatic action, since it appears her life was already slightly glamorous by the standards of our culture. But what is significant to me about this entire process is that she is doing it! However melodramatic, misguided, or self-absorbed her reasons, at the end of the day Elizabeth Gilbert is just a person who was trying to set her life right. And regardless of her method, I think the core purpose of what she wanted to accomplish was, in its own way, noble. And frankly, I know a lot of women, myself included, who would benefit from trying harder to center their lives, and become more spiritual people.

As I sat in the darkened theater watching the exquisite cinematography of Italy, India, and Indonesia, what struck me wasn't how far away and unreachable those places and those experiences felt, but how similar the process is for all of us. Wherever we live, the privilege to eat, pray, and love is ours for the taking.

The Plight of the True Cougar Fan

2010-09-12T19:02:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the BYU/Air Force game down in Colorado Springs, and as some of you may know there is a time for fun and games in our family, and BYU football is not one of them. One of the members of our household in particular took a very serious strategic approach in his preparation for Game Day, and purchased 66 tickets on behalf of various friends and family as to ensure that we would be sitting 5 rows deep among other Cougar Fans.

I did my part by buying enough candy to kill a small animal, being ready to leave our house at exactly eleven-fifteen, and sitting through the four hour game (which is no small thing with a twenty-month old). Our older girls have been successfully indoctrinated (Jeremy started singing Cougar Fight Song Lullabyes to them when they were infants), so they were decked out in blue and white and ready to go.

Unfortunately I waited until the fourth quarter to break out my camera, and by that point the Cougars were trailing behind Air Force by three touch downs. This made Jeremy slightly uncooperative about my desire to take pictures of this landmark event in our lives.

We decided to cut our losses and leave the game a few minutes early, and as we sullenly trudged toward our car Katherine said, "Dad, are you in a bad mood because the Cougars didn't win?" My heart aches that my five year old daughter must be exposed to one of the harsh realities of life at such a young, tender age. But ah, such is the plight of the devoted Cougar Fan...and his family.

Our long time friend from BYU flew in to see us this weekend and joined us for the football game...or maybe he came to see the game and as an added bonus got to see us too, but anyways, despite the devastating defeat we had a wonderful day!

My Mom's 60th

2010-09-07T20:49:00.000-07:00

This weekend we celebrated my mom's 60th birthday. What is more amazing than the fact that nine of her eleven children showed up, was that we kept it a secret. We arrived in waves throughout the weekend, and she burst into tears each time another of her children walked through the door.

At the end of the weekend I caught a ride with two of my sisters to Vegas. We checked into our airport hotel and then headed for the Strip.

I love my sister Madi's pink hair. I told her she looks like a "Fraggle" and she said, "What's a Fraggle?" Ah, the ignorance of the young!

It was so fun lecturing Carolyn about the dangers of becoming a degenerate gambler. We agreed it's all fun and games until you check out of your hotel at four o'clock in the morning and walk through a casino filled with dried up, desperate, pathetic gamblers still glued to the slot machines. No thank you.

And we were corrupting a minor in the process!

Yet, in the end I had a fabulous weekend, and left remembering how much I love my family. All of us had to re-arrange schedules, farm out kids and spend money we didn't want to spend in order to be there for my mom, but it was worth it. Three days of eating peanut M&M's and playing "Apples to Apples" might not seem important, but somehow it is.

The World According to Little People- Tall as a Monkey

2010-08-25T12:05:00.001-07:00

Katherine's new P.E. shoes

Katherine: I love my shoes so much, ya know why?

Me: Why?

Katherine: They actually make me look TALLER!

Me: I hadn't noticed that before. I guess they do make you look taller.

*Repeat this exact conversation every day she has worn her new shoes since school started. Only today I enjoyed a slight variation.

Katherine: My shoes make me look soooo tall.

Me: Yep, same as yesterday.

Katherine: No mom! Tall as a monkey!

Okay....

The World According to Jeremy

2010-08-21T17:42:00.001-07:00

Today I was telling Jeremy about my plans to get an updated family photo this fall.

Lauren: I want us all to wear really bright, primary colors, like banana yellow, grass green, apple red and bright blue...the girls already have a lot of clothes in those colors.
Jeremy: I have a navy polo shirt.
Lauren: Bright colors, honey. And I'm probably going to wear blue.
Jeremy: Why do you get to pick first?
Lauren: It's more important what the wife looks like. You know that no one really cares what the husband looks like. I'm just trying to think what shirts you have that might work...
Jeremy: I have a maroon shirt.
Lauren: I said bright colors (I'm starting to get annoyed).
Jeremy: Oh. I wasn't really listening.
Lauren: Okay, we're done here.

Back to School

2010-08-11T21:29:00.000-07:00

8:15 AM- Our First Grader is Ready to Go!

12:15 PM- Our Kindergartener is ready to go!

After school hugs. They missed each other.

Time for a tea party while they tell Mom all about it.

New school supplies that they can keep at home and an after school snack. Everyone seems glad to be back in the groove of our school year routine.

Five Years Old!

2010-08-10T19:27:00.000-07:00

Five years old with a brand new princess bike!

You don't get fat cheeks by passing up birthday cake.

Madeleine and I spent the afternoon frosting the cake.

Aunt Charie and her friends stayed up last night decorating.

After a breakfast of blueberry pancakes Katherine rode the train downtown with Aunt Charie to have her special Birthday lunch with Dad.

The train ride home from Denver. Katherine is hugging the matching twin Minnie Mouse that her big sister gave her during breakfast this morning.

When they got home from Denver we had THIRTEEN little girls come over for a "Baker's Party." We decorated aprons, frosted cookies, played "pass the rolling pin" (hot potato) and we played "Hot and Cold" searching for a cookie cutter.

After the little friends left we shared tortellini for dinner with Aunt Charie and her friends, and everyone made a toast to our five year old girl. Katherine is our silly heart, and from the time she learned to talk she has always had a way with people, drawing them in with her fun loving, wily ways. We're so lucky that she landed in our family.

Overall, it was a very long, very fun day, and we are turning in early because tomorrow is the FIRST day of school!

Summer Thunderstorms

2010-08-08T21:27:00.000-07:00

It's nice to have a sister sleeping in the same room when there is a scary thunderstorm going on outside. For the record, it was Madeleine who climbed in with Katherine!

New (School) Year's Resolutions

2010-08-04T21:17:00.000-07:00

We're gearing up for the first day of school, and the promise of five afternoons each week with two girls in school and one baby in bed is having the same effect on me as New Year's Eve. A new beginning. The possibilities are endless, especially now that I'm unemployed.

My impromptu resolutions for those two and a half hours each day:

1. Keep the television, the telephone, and the vacuum cleaner silent. Relish the quiet.
2. Spend a little while reading something that makes me want to be better, live better, write better.
3. Make a more assertive effort to find an agent. I've spent most of 2010 waiting, waiting, waiting for agent responses...with no end in sight. If I'm going to be waiting anyways, I should send out more queries and increase my chances that someone, someday will answer the call.
4. Begin the real work of drafting my second novel. Nearly every night for the past year I've stared up at my ceiling, listening to my husband sleep while ideas for characters, scenes, and dialogue swirl lazily around in my head. Every now and then I steal a few minutes to plunk out some of the more concrete ideas on my computer, but for the most part it is all locked Upstairs. I have a skeleton plot, title, main characters and themes. Now I need to take all those parts and make something with them. So, instead of spending yet another year carrying all my eggs around in the basket of A First Novel, I'm going to draft A Second Novel. I'm not giving up on the first, but I think it's a good tactic to keep writing books until one of them sells. Then it will be much easier to say to the world, "And guess what else I have waiting on my hard drive!"
5. Bake cookies for my girls to come home to on a regular basis. I loved loved loved that when I was a little girl.

Author's Note: If you are questioning the credibility of goal number four, the claim that I "stared up at my ceiling" and you're thinking "how can one stare at a dark ceiling?" let me insert a fact. There are projector clocks that shine the time right onto your dark ceiling, pretty much the same standard technology that Batman provided the mayor with to project his bat signal into the night sky. In fact, I refer to my clock as my "bat signal," as in "I forgot to turn on my bat signal." Really, this is one of the true miracles of modern technology. If you wake up in the middle of the night, you can simply look up to know what time it is, no more fumbling to glimpse the tiny numbers glowing out from your nightstand. Or, if you are thinking about writing books instead of going to sleep at a prudent hour, you can watch the time change every sixty seconds. My particular projector clock offers an assortment of "font" colors including green, blue and red. When Jeremy first gave me my clock I instantly loved it so much that for awhile it was one of the main events on our "tour of the house" when family and friends came into town.

The World According to Little People- Secret Magic Powers

2010-08-04T21:11:00.000-07:00

Madeleine: Mom, can you fix this? It's broken.
Lauren: Probably not. (I don't even look up to inspect said broken item).
Madeleine: Why not?
Lauren: I'm not good at fixing things. Ask your dad. He can fix anything.
Madeleine: Yeah, you're right. Do you think he has secret magic powers?
Lauren: What do you mean? (I finally look up, now she has my attention).
Madeleine: I've noticed that the people on dad's side of the family are sort of magical. Like the other day I asked Aunt Charie to fix my lock and she instantly fixed it. You never fix anything. So I guess dad's family is magical.

Pancake Wisdom

2010-07-28T21:28:00.000-07:00

We have had a long year. The kids are healthy, our toilets are mostly clean, Jeremy and I like each other, and the endless parade of papers get graded on time. But during my quiet moments, like at two in the morning, I found my pulse racing and my thoughts constantly reaching toward the next "due date."

I've been teaching advanced writing for the past twelve months and this week I realized that what was supposed to be "fun" and enriching, was actually intruding upon my sleep. And my ability to relax, ever. English teachers don't leave work at work; they grade papers at the park, the pool, and on vacation.

I usually prepare a hot breakfast every day, even if it's just oatmeal with apples diced into it. My mom always cooked a hot breakfast for us, and I have happy memories sitting at the counter eating pancakes drowned in syrup. But, I haven't made pancakes in months. And while I was in Utah a few weeks ago my step-mom finally said, "Listen, if you don't have enough time or energy to make pancakes with your little girls, then something needs to change."

So I resigned.

I decided to take some time to re-group and gather my chickens close, to sleep uninterrupted, make pancakes, and sit at the park unfettered by stacks of argumentative research papers. Life is long, and I think there will be lots of time for all that other stuff. I'm counting on it!

The World According to Little People- Teaching Elisabeth How To Talk

2010-07-23T15:33:00.000-07:00

These days our eighteen month old baby girl is running the house. She has more fire in her than her two older sisters put together, and when she says "jump," evidently we are supposed to ask how high. The only problem with this chain of command is that she can't actually say "jump" or anything else, except for: dad, mom, up and no.

This afternoon I was working at the computer and I suddenly realized a "conversation" going on between my oldest and youngest daughters:

Madeleine: Elisabeth, are you stinky? Did you go poop?

Elisabeth: Poop. Poop. Poop.

Hysterical Laughter from the two older girls ensues.

Madeleine: Good girl. Did you go poop?

Elisabeth: Poop! Smiles proudly. POOP!

So there are a few things different about having a little one in the house AND older siblings.

Sweet Girls!

2010-07-23T15:29:00.000-07:00

Old People Can Be So Sweet!

2010-07-23T15:18:00.000-07:00

We celebrated a friend's 30th Birthday last weekend in style! We dined at the Country Buffet and then spent the rest of the evening playing Bingo. I won first prize for best costume, but as you can see, it was close!

The World According to Little People- Daddy's Girl

2010-07-16T12:31:00.001-07:00

I was combing Madeleine's hair the other day and I noticed a few dandruff flakes.

Lauren: "Hmmm. Looks like your scalp is dry. You've got some flakes in your hair."

Madeleine whips around to face me, horrified. "What do you mean?"

Lauren: "It's no big deal. You just need to use a moisturizing shampoo. It's probably from all the chlorine at the pool. Settle down."

Madeleine turns and settles back onto her stool and I continue combing. After a moment she says in a thoughtful voice, "I really am my daddy's girl. We both have brown hair. And we both have dandruff."

The Mt. Rainier Adventure

2010-07-14T13:13:00.000-07:00

Here's a post from the male afterthought of the blog (i.e. "...and a Guy")

July 10, 2010 - Our digs on the first night at IMG (International Mountain Guides) HQ. Two men to a tent: Dan Jones and John Wethey in one tent, Spencer and I in another. Wish we would have had those cots and electricity up on the mountain.

July 11, 2010 - The crew all geared up with packs between 35 - 50 lbs (I came home with about 5 lbs extra food) and ready to leave from the trailhead at Paradise Lodge (from left to right: Craig "CJ" John (guide), Josh McDowell (guide), Spencer Jones, John Wethey, Phil Ershler (lead guide), Dan Jones, Cole Burrows, Chris Burrows, Kate Reid, Anne Reid and me - not shown is Jason Edwards (guide) who joined us Monday morning). As you can see, there was snow right from the beginning. The day was clear and hot with very little wind. The elevation at Paradise is around 5400 ft. Our day-1 objective: climb to Camp Muir at 10,200 ft. - 4.5 miles from Paradise.

The hike up the first day was taken at a slow and steady pace with breaks about every hour and a half - pretty easy hiking. Although we were careful with sun block on our faces ans arms, Spencer and I got burns on the backs of our knees in the open space between the gaiters and shorts which we neglected (Spencer has the red pack, green shorts and black gaiters).

Here at our first break, we were all smiles and sweat in the heat of the day - Chris on the right and John hiding behind me without shirts, Dan ready to lose his.

A good look at my glacier glasses about half way to Camp Muir. Another group passed us on their way down with report of a successful summit.

Getting closer...

John Wethey making his way with a great view below.

This is the luxurious "Gambu" hut at Camp Muir where we stayed the night on Sunday. There are two sides to the hut and we stayed on the right side. The ridge that it sits on offers spectacular views of Mt. Adams, Mt. Saint Helens and Mt. Hood (in clear weather).

Inside the "Gambu" where we slept on two plywood tiers about four feet apart. There was a third level with extra IMG gear. They were kind enough to provide two foam pads per climber. The winds picked up Sunday night / Monday morning, so we were fortunate to have this shelter. All of the guided groups and independent climbers scheduled to summit that morning were denied due to the high winds.

A view of the whole gang outside of the "Gambu".

This is the weather port on the other side of Camp Muir from the "Gambu". It's got a steel frame making it nearly indestructible. The guides prepared our meals here and we also dined inside. We had navy bean soup, burritos (complete with guacamole) and hot drinks.

July 12, 2010 - We had an early morning training session on crampons, self-arresting with the ice axe and walking tied into a rope. Then, after a big breakfast of hash browns, bacon and sausage, we set out at about noon for the high camp in the Ingraham Flats, about 1,000 feet higher in elevation and 1 mile distance. The start of the trail is in the bottom-right of the picture. The trail starts to the left and then arcs to the right across the Cowlitz glacier.

This is a shot at the top of the Cowlitz where the trail leads to Cathedral Rocks and the Gap. We switchbacked through the rock field, short-roped two to a guide. The wind really began to pick up as we got higher. About 100 yards from the gap, Jason, one of the guides, was blown off the trail about 20 feet. Fortunately, Cole and Chris were able to arrest, as did Jason and they were able to recover and continue up the tail.

This is a picture of the guides at the camp in the Ingraham Flats discussing what to do. When we arrived, there was one tent flapping in the wind which had been destroyed. Two other tents were gone, blown off the mountain with only the guy lines reamining. The guides decided that staying would be a "struggle for survival" and would not allow us to rest for a chance at the summit. So, the guides led us back down to Camp Muir. Once there, 5 of the team decided to head down to Paradise with the forecast reaching us that high winds would persist through the night and into the late morning. Chris, Cole and I decided to hold on to hope of a miracle break in the weather for a remote chance to summit. We endured a rough night sleep in a tent outside of the weather port with super high winds ripping at our tent all night long. The winds proved too dangerous for another attempt. Two independent climbers made a futile attempt, but were turned around well short.

Here is a shot of the top from the Ingraham Flats. This one will keep me motivated to save the money to get back and bag the one that got away!

On the way down, I discovered the joy of glissading - sliding down the snow on your back side with pack providing some additional force downhill. I am sporting the garbage sack in this one. Glissading at every possible opportunity, made the descent go by really fast and softened the blow of the missed summit. What can I say? I'm just a big kid in a 30-something man's body!

And, the action shot...

I had a great adventure, but, Mt. Rainier and I have some unfinished business to settle. Stay tuned for the next chapter, which I hope will be sooner rather than later.

Family Room Forts

2010-07-07T18:18:00.001-07:00

This afternoon I was supposed to grade my last seven research papers. But then there was a thunderstorm. So naturally we took a bubble bath, made chocolate chip cookies, and rearranged the furniture in our family room to better accomodate our awesome fort.

As I studied the photograph posted below it occurred to me that my picture-taking skills rest somewhere between pathetic and abominable. And maybe the totally awesome fort isn't particularly innovative either. But I'm not bothered. Lots of posts are geared toward all of you, so that you can peek into our lives and be part of our goings-on, even from a great distance. But today, this one's for us. One glance at the graceless photograph and the rickety, old fort and I'll remember what a nice, rainy afternoon the girls and I enjoyed together.

Tiny Town

2010-07-07T18:11:00.001-07:00

Last Friday we visited an entire town composed of miniature doll houses.

Twitarded

2010-07-07T17:18:00.000-07:00

I want to be wherever the party is, and last week it was at the opening of Eclipse. Say what you will about silly teenage girls, but teenagers are FUN. In fact, it wasn't nearly as crowded as I had anticipated (I arrived at nine for the midnight movie and there were only a few people camped in line ahead of me playing cards). Then someone told me that there were Twilight Movie Marathons in progress and the truly committed fans had arrived hours and hours earlier. Well who knew? And to think I watched the original Twilight and New Moon at home earlier in the day all by myself.

As masses gathered I felt slightly worried for my ear drums, but after a stern warning from the manager just a few minutes before the show began, the hundreds of young ladies behaved themselves for the entire movie.

Saturday I joined another throng of late-goers and watched Eclipse a second time. The ring leader provided Twilight crowns from Burger King and as I ate yet another bag of M&M's I sighed with happiness. My brief return to adolescence was complete.

For you head scratchers, this article is the best summary of Twilight's general appeal to those of us who are probably a little too grown up for such childishness!

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/18/AR2009111804145.html?waporef=ak

Cousins Camp

2010-06-29T18:07:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago my dad and Jane hosted a cousins camp in Breckenridge for all of the grandkids who have graduated from Kindergarten. Madeleine counted down the days on our calender, she was so excited to be eligible for Cousins Camp. I was nervous about having her away from home, we haven't done much of that yet, but she did great and I believe cousins camp was everything she hoped for and more. The build-your-own sundae at Bubba Gumps, the alpine slide with "team Maddie" (Aunt Madi and Madeleine), filling in a family tree, and swimming were numbered among her most favorite things in the whole world. Hopefully I'll get some of the pictures to add to this post.

We ended cousins camp by joining them up in Breckenridge and spending a fondue-filled evening together. The fondue restaurant required two separate gondola rides, it is situated deep in the mountain range beyond Keystone, CO. Throughout the meal we were serenaded by accordian players, the kids tore up the dance floor, and toward the end the musicians got us to stand up and sing "Adel Weiss." I have been singing that song to my girls since they were babies, and standing there arm in arm with my parents and sisters was a special moment.

Thank you Dad and Jane!

Big Wonderful Wyoming

2010-06-29T18:04:00.000-07:00

My step dad's mother passed away last week and we decided to make the eight hour drive to Cody, Wyoming to attend the funeral. Katherine kept referring to our trip as "the reunion" and although our reason for going was to show our love and support for the McDonald side of my family, I have to admit that "reunion" wasn't too far off the mark!

Terry and his brother Mike

Little did you know that RiLee, longtime devotee of New Jersy, is a horse whisperer and a Wyoming cowgirl at heart! We did our best to find her a cowboy to marry, but 36 hours was simply not enough time.

Ryan's post-barbecue respose!

A real cowboy!Unfortunately this cowboy is related to RiLee!

Madeleine and her little cousin Caitlynn

Summer Days at the Farmer's Market

2010-06-23T13:43:00.000-07:00

The Gillespie Girls spent the afternoon at a farmer's market. I love browsing through the colorful rows of jam, the specialty pasta, the barrels of homemade rootbeer, and of course the fruit and veggie stands. We ended up sharing hotdogs from a cart, and I let the girls buy butterfly-shaped frosted cookies. A couple of old-timers serenaded the market with country music while we walked around, and even though it's a scorching day in the mile-high city, the farmer's market was definitely the right place to be.

The World According to Little People

2010-06-23T13:25:00.000-07:00

I overheard Madeleine and Katherine scheming about how to raise more money to purchase ice cream from the friendly, neighborhood ice cream truck (a.k.a. The Beguiling, Snaggle-toothed Extortionist).

Madeleine: "If you lose a tooth, you should ask the Tooth Fairy for A LOT of money."
Katherine: "Like how much?"
Madeleine: "Not a hundred dollars. You'd never get that. But you could try for fifty."

A little while later, I overheard this totally un-related, but fabulous tidbit:

Madeleine: "My friend from school, Ashley, is getting a new step-dad."
Katherine: "Do you think Uncle James is a step-dad?"

Our Sweet Life

2010-06-20T21:31:00.000-07:00

My favorite Barbara Kingsolver novel is based on the premise that if you want to have sweet dreams, then you have to live a sweet life. I've spent some time this week reflecting on how sweet my life is because of Jeremy. Happy Father's Day, to the father of my little girls.

Sweet Love

Sweet Mustache May

Sweet 7 ft Snowman

Sweet View from the top of Long's Peak (14, 255 ft elevation)

I look forward to all of the sweet experiences ahead of us!

Riding in the Rain

2010-06-03T16:40:00.001-07:00

Yesterday it rained all day. I absolutely love gray, stormy weather and so I hopped on a bicycle and headed down the beach. It was fabulous, and here are some of the reasons why:

Brightly colored sand pails and shovels were strewn all along the beach, left outside in readiness. I could almost imagine little kids, like my own, settled in front of the t.v., waiting impatiently for the green light to head back outside.

A crab the size of a softball scuttling sideways across the sand in front of me.

A row of six, banana yellow beach houses glaring defiantly through the fog.

A half dozen teenage boys surfing in the rough waters. Ironically they were situated directly in front of the only "No Surfing" sign on the entire beach. I loved that!

One lonely beach house with at least a quarter mile of open space separating it from other houses. The isolated house screamed "skinny dipper's paradise," but maybe that's just me.

One last thought: If you happen to be bicycling in the rain, and you think to yourself, "Hey, I'm already wet. Why not cruise through the surf?" you perhaps ought to think again. Bicycle tires tend to sink down in wet sand, requiring one to set their foot down in the water, and by extension causing said rider's tennis shoe to fill with salt water. Amateur mistake.

A Week in Paradise

2010-06-01T17:12:00.000-07:00

This week I learned not to judge a state by its vast number of dollar stores or Piggly Wigglys.

It took us ALL DAY to travel from Denver to Top Sail Island, North Carolina last Saturday, including three airplanes and two long layovers. Based on the number of hours we were traveling I kept thinking we could have flown to London or Dusseldorf. On the bright side, the flights were free (thanks to frequent flier miles), and I otherwise might never have seen the bustling metropolis of Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

But as we drove the final 2 1/2 hour leg from Raleigh I stared glumly out the window wondering "why do people live here?" I guess as a westerner I was surprised to find out that there are places other than southern Wyoming that depress one's sense of wanderlust. Fortunately, our crossing of the causeway bridge onto Top Sail Island was like passing through C.S. Lewis' wardrobe. This is a magical place. It is relatively undeveloped, with only a few seafood diners and ma and pop businesses. Private beach homes line the shore, tottering on flood-safe stilts and bearing the load of elaborate decks. The beaches are clean and flat, the water is warm, the waves are the perfect height for my six year old to learn how to boogie board. Most importantly, the sea food is fresh and I'm doing my best to systematically try every dish on the menu at our favorite diner. It's possible we might not come home.

The End of an Era

2010-05-26T07:29:00.000-07:00

Last week my grandmother, Anita Kiester Cratty, passed away. When I heard the news I was in the middle of our THIRD round of stomach flu this month, but luckily the nausea subsided long enough for me to make a 36 hour jaunt to western Pennsylvania to attend the funeral.

My mom was raised in Pennsylvania, and a large part of her extended family still lives there. That was actually where my parents met; they went to high school together in Slippery Rock. But despite my Pennsylvania history and roots, I showed up as a Visitor. Pennsylvania doesn't belong to me, even in my childhood memories of the vacations we took there. Having come from the high plains desert here in Denver, everything felt strange. The air was damp, the western Pennsylvania accent was distinctive, and most startling were the trees. In every direction was green, green, green. As we drove the winding roads I felt like the forest was rushing the shoulder of the road, pressing in on us. In that landscape there is no way to orient yourself, and I felt lost everywhere we went. And I couldn't help but wonder what was lurking behind the looming tangle of trees. Not so different from death, I suppose.

I love funerals. I know that sounds macabre, but it's true. People act differently, and talk differently at funerals than at any other place or time. It's like for a few hours they become the most real version of themselves. I suppose that's what grief does. It strips you down and leaves you raw, unguarded. But as I watched my mother, aunts, and cousins mourning my grandmother, I felt even more like a side line observer. We weren't close. I hadn't seen my grandma for years. Yet it was significant to witness the close of her lifetime. My mother no longer has a mother here on Earth. That's a difficult thing. It goes by fast, doesn't it?

Boeuf Bourguignon

2010-05-13T12:50:00.000-07:00

I think the weather influences what I feel like cooking for dinner more than anything else. One of the reasons I never felt quite at home in Arizona is that soups and stews are probably my favorite non-dessert food group. And I've always felt like the colder it gets outside, the better the soup tastes and smells.

Yesterday an unexpected snow storm plopped itself right in the middle of our lovely spring weather. In typical Denver fashion, the temperature dropped forty degrees over night and we woke up with frosted rooftops, and snow stricken gardens. I couldn't wait to begin cooking dinner. After thumbing through four different "soups and stews" cookbooks, I resolved to attempt my first ever Boeuf Bourguignon. After two and a half hours in the oven it was ready and I excitedly took my first bite and chewed. Wait a minute. The meat was certainly tender, but beef is beef. Alarmed, I plunged my spoon back into the bowl, making sure to get a good dose of the sauce. This time as I chewed, I actually closed my eyes and sighed. So that's what all the fuss was about.

The Best of Times, The Worst of Times: Mother's Day 2010

2010-05-09T18:30:00.001-07:00

I'll start with the best of times. At a whopping sixteen months old, our little Elisabeth took her first steps yesterday. We've been waiting breathlessly for weeks for her to heave her fat little legs high enough off the ground to step forward, and yesterday was the day.

Now for the worst of times.

It has been an exceptionally busy week at our house, and things culminated yesterday afternoon in three howling, under-slept kids and two grumpy parents. So we pulled the plug on our fun Saturday afternoon plans, and decided that everyone needed a nap. When I woke up around five o'clock I felt sick, too sick to even get up. Just as I was registering that thought Jeremy called out to me that there was vomit all over Elisabeth's crib. "And by the way," he added, "I'm not feeling so great either."

Within a couple of hours Jeremy and I were feeling so awful that we climbed into bed and tried to bribe our two older girls to put themselves to bed. You can imagine how effective that was, the two of us writhing and calling out promises of future popsicles, while the girls tear through the house unrestrained.

So this year for Mother's Day there wasn't a great dinner. Or a clean house. Or breakfast in bed. But as I'm writing this I have to admit that it wasn't all terrible. At one in the morning, when I first leapt up to go throw up, Jeremy was on my heels and handed me tissues and scratched my back while my head was in the toilet bowl. He always does that, even when I insist he can retreat. But last night was a little more heroic. When I finished he went downstairs to get me a glass of water, asked me if I needed anything else, and then he sheepishly said, "I'm actually feeling really sick too." Then he took a turn puking. I know this is a pretty disgusting story, but there was a kindness there that I couldn't let pass unnoticed.

We're both feeling better this evening, the kids are now in bed, and our friend Brittany came by with a pan of orange rolls, just to cheer us up. Like I said, it wasn't all terrible. Now cross your fingers the older two girls don't get sick tonight...

Cinco de Mayo Fiesta

2010-05-05T20:36:00.001-07:00

Cinco de Mayo ranks right up there with St. Patrick's Day as one of those "holidays" that American Cultural Imperialists have usurped for their own purposes. So this year, in an effort to invite some dignity to our observance of Cinco de Mayo, I decided to read up on its history. Conclusions: no one really cares that the Mexicans defeated the French in the Battle of Puebla in 1862, least of all the country of Mexico. I'm not being harsh here, but in the scheme of history it just isn't important enough to warrant a spot on my official List of Important Dates to Remember. If it's any consolation, Mexico, there aren't very many items on that particular list. I'm more of a concepts and ideas person, rather than a names and dates person...which accounts for a few Unsatisfactory Performances in Trivial Pursuit.

Fortunately, the forgettable history of Cinco de Mayo in no way weakened my enthusiasm to celebrate. Our party consisted of four families, a burrito bar, fried ice cream, and the requisite pinata. I'm a fool for pinatas. And I was all set to insist the adults take a turn getting blindfolded and flailing around with the foam bat, but I underestimated the brute strength of six year old kids. The pinata didn't stand a chance. In minutes it was taken down and disembowled, with candy, plastic necklaces and Billy Bob teeth strewn around our basement. I suspect the ghosts of Mexican War heroes would be proud!

Mis-Matched Table Settings

2010-04-28T14:39:00.000-07:00

I think its important to read every single day. I know that sounds like something my daughter's Kindergarten teacher would say, but its true. I think too many non-readers get hung up on what they ought to be reading, instead of looking for something that suits them. I remember one of my graduate professors confessing that she reads EVERYTHING, including the backs of gum wrappers, and the license plate of the car ahead of her. I thought that was wonderful. Back then I rarely took the time to read things that didn't come pre-packaged in a glossy, carefully chosen cover. But I read gum wrappers now. And its worth it. Maybe some of you only read gum wrappers and license plates, and I think that is just fine too. The important thing about reading everyday is getting into someone else's universe and seeing things how they see things.

Sometimes what I read influences my whole day and mood, dinner menu, or interaction with my family. I love that.

This year I've been systematically reading every book written by Elizabeth Berg. I discovered her slowly, coming across her novels here and there over the past few years. But last January I suddenly put one of her books down and stared out the window thinking, "Yes. That is exactly how I feel too."

After that I had to read all of them. And surprisingly, I've found a small something of myself, my own life and struggles, and moments of happiness in every story. Berg writes about ordinary people trying to make sense of the strangeness in their lives: husbands and wives falling in and out of love, a single spinster choosing to have a baby so she doesn't miss out on motherhood, empty nesters trying to re-build a life without their children, and today I'm reading about how to help your best friend suck the final bits of marrow out of life before she dies of brain cancer.

Nice and cheery, I know. But the thing about these books is that I always, always feel inspired by the end, even when I feel angry, disapproving, or afraid for the characters somewhere in the middle. And Berg's characters are almost always people I wish could be my friends, leading fascinating interior lives. We give so much energy to small talk and niceties, I sometimes wonder, after reading Berg's stories, what is really going on inside the people I talk to everyday. What the furniture inside their brain looks like.

Today I read a dialogue between two women who were discussing table settings. One of them claimed that to buy all matching table settings is utterly boring. Who wants to look around the table and see the same thing? I loved that. Since I can't afford to run right out and buy a set of twelve place settings anyways, this idea appeals to me. I love window shopping for dishes. And next time I fall in love with a pattern, I'll buy two plates, or just a couple of soup bowls.

When I started this blog I decided to take my sweet time deciding on my "gadgets." I wanted to make sure they were meaningful, something my very own. So after reading about the mis-matched dishes idea, I thought a-ha! I'm going to create a gadget devoted to the small, random ideas that are not my own. Ideas that only came to me because I made time to read.

Chopped Championship 2010

2010-04-26T18:54:00.000-07:00

Three teams.
Two courses.
But only one team could win our 2010 Chopped Championship.

Yesterday we outfitted our kitchen with three separate cooking stations, complete with mixers, knives, bowls, etc. The teams were ready, each hoping to make an impression on our guest judges, John and Shauna Gillespie. And make an impression we did.

Team One:
Our British hopeful and seasoned trifle maker, John Brogden, and the fearless Brittany Birnel. (You would have to be fearless in order to cast your lot with a foreigner who you'd only just met).
Team Two:
Lauren Gillespie and Ryan Birnel (Brittany laughed when she heard Ryan was invited to participate, but before my doubts could sink in he looked me square in the eye and said, "Don't worry. I win at everything I do." This may have been more of a worldview than a cold hard fact, but none the less, I was sold. That sort of cockiness goes a long way in my book, and I instantly knew this was the team mate for me! And a good thing Ryan said that, because he inspired a competitive spirit in our last minute contenders who might otherwise have watched the competition from the couch.
Team Three:
Jeremy Gillespie and Karen Brogden, two individuals who have logged a combined fifteen minutes cooking in the kitchen in their entire lives.

Round One: The Appetizer Course
When the timer started for the appetizer round each team ripped open their bag to inspect the four secret ingredients that had to be included in their dish: jalapeno peppers, garlic, bacon and asparagus.

The cooking part was a blast, up until Jeremy poured boiling soup into the blender and it exploded all over him and the kitchen. Naturally he was manly about the burn wounds and so we all pressed on, stepping carefully across the slick, soupy floor.

The next bleak moment came when Ryan and I put our southwestern quiche into the oven with only three minutes left on the clock. Twenty minutes goes by fast, and we can assure you that although Ryan's homemade quiche crust was lovely, three minutes is not enough time to cook eggs. Hence the "gloppy quiche" as the judges coined our dish.

The other two teams fared only slightly better...well, okay fine, their dishes were actually cooked all the way. John and Brittany served the judges a "jalapeno inferno" (herbed cream cheese spread on a jalapeno and wrapped in bacon), and Jeremy and Karen served what we quipped was "bacon and milk" soup. Joking aside, they showed up after twenty minutes with a creamy asparagus and bacon soup, with garlic toast on the side. Let me repeat. Jeremy and Karen. Made a homemade soup. And garlic toast. The presentation was terrible, but it tasted good. And that's when I realized Jeremy has been taking me for a ride all these years with his "I don't really cook" line. But that's a different blog entry.

Lest Ryan and I throw temper tantrums over the injustice of our wobbly quiche, everyone decided that we would let the amateur mistake pass and keep all three teams in the running for round two, instead of chopping someone on the spot. Since we were probably the most aggressively competive team, this seemed like a good solution. Although everyone present understood that had it been another team serving uncooked food, I would have insisted they be chopped on the spot. But that's okay, really. I've grown comfortable living my life within the complexity of these types of double standards.

Round Two: The Dessert Course

The secret ingredients were fresh plums, cinnamon, almonds and graham crackers. My kitchen has never smelled so delicious. But before you romanticize the image too much, keep in mind our four families had a combined number of nine kids under the age of six running/crawling around my house while this competition was taking place. Our two trusty judges were frantically trying to console the three infants and capture video footage on camera, so it wasn't exactly idyllic.

We emerged at the end of the thirty minute dessert round with three pretty magnificent concoctions. Jeremy and Karen served an apple and plum crumble in heart shaped ramekins, with a side of chocolate mousse. Brittany and John served parfait in wine goblets, the sides of the glasses drizzled with lines of white and dark chocolate, and the inside filled with layers of carmelized plums, vanilla ice cream, and oatmeal graham cracker crumble/crisp (the English and American teammates had a heated debate over the proper terminology). Ryan and I had a different take on a parfait, filling a ramekin with an almond graham cracker crust, a layer of dark chocolate fudge, and a orange plum ragout. We topped it with a dollop of whipped cream, which was actually a very sad and unattractive smear that we added two seconds after the timer went off. Not our proudest moment.

It's been more than twenty-four hours since the championship ended and I still have to remind myself that I lost. Ryan and I took third place behind Karen and Jeremy! John and Brittany seized the coveted first place title, which is really too bad, since there is nothing worse than a cocky Brit. John actually ordered me to change out of my sweat pants this morning before we left the house, insisting that the 2010 Chopped Champion has a reputation to uphold.

We would like to thank our judges for their forbearance. Shauna was enthusiastic about every dish, even the wobbly quiche, and John brought an element of comic relief, saying things like, "Um, I'm not really sure what to say about this dish. Am I supposed to comment on this?"

I think I have smiled more and laughed harder in the last two weeks than I have in years. As I stood on the curb of the Denver Airport this evening, tearfully hugging Karen, John,and little Parker, I felt like I was losing a part of myself. But I guess that's okay. They can take it with them and bring it back next time they come to visit. I think their dreary little island could use a little something to perk it up anyways, and so I'll graciously donate it to them, whatever that something was.

And it's not all sad. We're hoping to visit them in England next year. If we do, I've promised to stand up in church and thank Karen and John's ward for their support through all of the Brogden's unsavory addictions and carnal sins. And I can't wait to tour their place of employment in my white socks, sandals, and fanny pack. We've put up with John's English airs for two weeks, so let me just say that if I can make it to Gloucestershire, I'll be bringing some airs of my own.

England Versus America...in the kitchen

2010-04-20T15:26:00.000-07:00

Our dear friends John and Karen Brogden, and their baby Parker, are here from England for two weeks. It has become our habit to happily debate the strengths and weaknesses of our two countries. It was all fun and games until John suggested that his recipe for traditional English trifle was superior to my all-American, chocolate fudge brownie trifle. So naturally, the disagreement demanded that we invite over a panel of "judges" and hold a trifle cook-off.

The only downside of the evening was that it ended in a tie! But I still maintain the stubborn Englishman took in some sympathy votes!

tri•fle: traɪ fəl, spelled [trahy-fuh l]
–noun
a dessert usually consisting of custard and cake soaked in wine or liqueur, and jam, fruit, or the like.
-verb
to pass time idly or frivolously; waste time; idle.

St. Patrick's Day 2010

2010-03-18T21:42:00.001-07:00

The Leprechauns stopped by our house the night before St. Patrick's Day and dyed our milk and toilet water green, put up green streamers in the kitchen, and left green donuts. We attribute this generosity of spirit to the loving and friendly letter Madeleine wrote to the Leprechauns and set out before she went to bed.

Katherine approached the holiday with a little more horse sense. Apparently she went to bed wondering how it all was going to work...naughty little green men sneaking into her house in the middle of the night and what-not. She must have concluded that it wasn't a great idea, because she woke up screaming with nightmares about Leprechauns four times before midnight.

In the end it was little Elisabeth who had the most fun. She ate her green donut for breakfast, and then methodically crawled around the kitchen floor snarfing down all the chunks of donut that were dropped by her sisters. And people wonder why we affectionately call her "Fat Face."

The Eye of the Storm

2010-03-17T08:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning, after a small disagreement, Katherine informed me that she would like to go live with her cousin Paige in Virginia. I promptly picked up the phone, called the said cousin's mother, and got the O.K. on that plan.

So, we went upstairs to pack. I lovingly and patiently helped Katherine to select a suitcase, and then we began deciding which clothes she would need. After a few minutes of solemn packing, Katherine burst into tears and assured me that she would always love me, "no matter what I do." Her re-location to Virginia was then cancelled, at least for this week.

During the last couple of years, since Madeleine stopped telling people at the grocery store that they look fat and are "hanging out everywhere," most of our family humor stories stem from little Katherine's naughtiness and general tendency to think outside the four year old box.

This morning when I dropped Katherine off at pre-school she was loudly celebrating her beautiful, green dress. I reminded her, "Kate, it's so fun to dress up for St. Patrick's Day, but what is the most important thing to remember at school?"

I was going for the whole, "Be nice to the other students and listen to the teacher" angle. I figured no one else wanted to hear about her green dress for the next two hours. Without missing a beat Katherine said, "I know mom. I need to keep my clothes on."

Not quite what I was getting at.

With the energy and volume of three little girls dominating our home you can imagine my surprise when I enter a room and discover the usual tempests at bay. Katherine sitting in our formal living room thumbing through a book of Van Gogh paintings. The girls on the couch watching TV while Madeleine scrathes her sister's back. Katherine making a bed for herself in the middle of the toy room floor, lying down and promptly falling asleep. In the wake of this week's drama, I'm left marveling at the quiet tenderness, and little girl sweetness that occurs during the eye of the storm.

Thinking on Thirty-One

2010-03-03T14:24:00.000-08:00

I couldn't sleep last night. I turn 31 tomorrow and this is the first time in my life I've ever felt that reflective twinge of "I'm getting old." Turning thirty last year was a blip, just like all my other birthdays. The possibilities are endless, right? Life just keeps getting better and I've got three kids sleeping through the night to prove it. But for some reason at 31 I'm sensing a narrowing.

Are there certain limitations that come with the passing of time, particularly between our 30's and 40's. Do forty-something women wear their hair long (and have it actually look good), do they spend time every day rocking and comforting young children, and do they persist in reserving a corner of their closet for the slim fitting clothes of their early twenties (just in case)? I know some forty and fabulous women who do these things, but as a whole, as a complete demographic? I feel the narrowing, or at least the onset of an intangible narrowing.

I do believe my forty something friends are smiling right now.

The thing about aging is that whatever decade you are living in, you are laying the groundwork for the decade to come. What I spent my time on in my twenties has largely dictated what my life looks like today. So the question I am asking myself this week, is what do I want my life to look like in another decade. What groundwork am I laying?

I hope when I'm in my 30's I have three or more healthy, spiritually led, and confidant children.

I hope Jeremy and I are as happy then as we are now.

I hope I'm a published writer, who still makes time to let dirty dishes soak while I stare out the window and imagine the lives of strangers.

I hope I like myself, the life that I chose, and the decisions I made in my thirties.

Dan the Man!

2010-02-26T15:11:00.000-08:00

My younger brother Dan is following his dream by touring the country with his band
"Chelsea Grin." Their I-Tune sales are doing great this week and I want my brother to know how proud I am of his hard work, even if our parents are correct in describing the music as being of the "Cookie Monster" variety. Rock on Dan!

Calling Friends and Family Who Blog!

2010-02-21T21:42:00.000-08:00

I am slowly becoming a blogger and reader of blogs. So I'm asking those of you who have invited me to view your blog in the past few years to re-invite me or send me your blog address. I'm updating my blogger address book i.e. I spent an hour tonight learning how to add other people's blog addresses as a gadget. This is big for me!

Nine Years and Counting

2010-02-21T21:01:00.000-08:00

This weekend Jeremy and I left our three kids with my brother's family and celebrated nine plus years of marriage. Our anniversary is actually December 29th, but we have spent every December 29th for the past nine years with extended family, and so celebrating our anniversary in the first quarter of the New Year has become a necessary tradition.

After dropping the kids off mid-day on Saturday we went and sat in a restaurant, sharing an appetizer and tossing around ideas of how to spend a cold, rainy day without the kids. There weren't any movies we wanted to see, and we had hours to go until dinner and the Brian Regan Comedy Show we had tickets for, so we had to get creative. So we drove into Denver and spent an hour or so in the LoDo "Tattered Book Cover" where I found a book called, The Lost Art of Walking. It was fascinating, even if a little slow at some points, but it reminded me how great it can be to hang around book stores until you stumble upon such buried treasures. And the author was right. We (Americans) really do need to get off our rumps and walk more.

After the bookstore we braved the freezing drizzle and meandered down the 16th Street Mall. We ended up at a fancy Italian Restaurant called "Venice" where we warmed up and ate ourselves sick for two hours. After dinner we drove over to Wells Fargo Theater and joined the other 2000 people flocking to see Brian Regan live. Even though we own all three of his comedy videos, his live performance exceeded our expectations and Jeremy periodically had to remove his glasses to wipe the laughter induced tears.

We got back to our neighborhood around 10:30 pm and stopped at Blockbuster, spending nearly 30 minutes haggling over a rental. We got home and settled in to watch the movie DETERMINED to live up our freedom by staying up late. The next thing I knew Jeremy was shaking me awake. Sadly, we both fell asleep in front of the movie. It's possible we're getting middle aged, but since we like each other, and our life together, it doesn't feel like such a bad thing.

Blog Glitches

2010-01-11T18:50:00.000-08:00

Okay, the text looks great when I preview it with the photos, but when I hit "post" it comes up looking all skee-whompus and crooked.

Pointers?

Birthday Baby

2010-01-11T18:33:00.001-08:00

We had the stomach flu at our house this year for Elisabeth's first Birthday on January 9th, so we just got around to blowing out the candle tonight.

We've come a long way in twelve months, since our adventure began in the NICU with a five pound seven ounce baby.

But with her Birthday this week have come some fun new firsts including "dancing" to music (I guess headbanging is more descriptive), crying hysterically as we drove through the carwash, and sleeping through the early morning five am feeding. All of these firsts were great fun, but that last one has guaranteed her a spot in our family for at least another year!

She's such a big girl now, but we're going to miss the days when we could cruise around the house with her tucked into the dolly stroller!

Happy Birthday Sweet Girl!

Turning Six

2010-01-07T20:58:00.000-08:00

Six Major Mile Markers This Year...
1. Learning to read
2. Learning to ride a two-wheeler
3. Increased appreciation for the Mormon Pioneers
(a favorite backyard game)
4. Scoring the final goal in the final soccer game of the season
5. Starting Kindergarten
6. Becoming a Big Sister a second time over

Thank Heaven for Little Girls!

2010-01-07T11:53:00.000-08:00

Someone was teasing me the other day about the title of our blog. Oh yeah! It was Jeremy. He is NOT an after-thought folks, despite what our blog title might suggest. If I were skilled enough to add a graphic to our blog page featuring four moons circling one bright sun I would, since that pretty much sums things up around our house. Every now and then, like at our 20 week ultrasounds, Jer chides me about being incapable of producing a male heir but we both know his teasing is nonsense. Who wouldn't want to be the centerpiece, the centrifugal force to four adoring women? He's our guy, and everyone who knows us knows that.

It has been awhile since we've had family pictures taken and although I was ready to chuck them all out in the road by the time we were primped and ready at the photo site, these shots are precious to me. During this holiday season we girls spent five hours piled on the couch watching Anne of Green Gables. Everytime I think of that afternoon I have to smile and thank heaven for little girls!

Happy Holidays!

2010-01-07T11:44:00.000-08:00

December 2009

Dear Friends and Family,

This year we’d like to give you a glimpse into our family life using the theme You can tell a lot about a Gillespie based on…

You Can Tell a lot about a Gillespie based on the contents of their nightstand! This year our four year old daughter Katherine got her first nightstand next to her bed. We had no way of knowing this would be such a big deal for her, but she immediately started making it a point to fill her beloved nightstand drawer with treasures. It took us a while to notice things disappearing from around the house, but one day I randomly opened her nightstand drawer and discovered Jeremy’s good wristwatch, some of my jewelry, a travel alarm clock we had stored away in case we ever travel anywhere, and eighteen tubes of chapstick, among other things. We wouldn’t be so worried about Katherine’s kleptomaniac tendencies had she not tried to stab Jeremy with a butter knife while playing wrestle mania over Thanksgiving. She’s a livewire and we feel blessed this Christmas season that she hasn’t yet been turned over to the authorities.

You can tell a lot about a Gillespie based on their willingness to endure public humiliation! For those of you who do not know about Mustache May, let me just say I envy your blissful ignorance. Apparently someone with too much free time initiated a nationwide “let’s grow a hideous mustache” tradition and last spring it hit our house hard. So, Jeremy and a couple of his brothers enthusiastically passed the month of May embracing their upper-lip facial hair. While I’ve always appreciated the thick dark hair on Jeremy’s head, the addition of a black, bushy Tom Sellek-style stache’ was a little too reminiscent of Saddam Hussein or any other pick of Middle Eastern terrorists. Apparently I wasn’t the only one put off because pretty much everyone we know stopped me to politely inquire about my deranged husband. But as things go, the more I complained the more excited Jeremy became about his mustache. His best rebuttal was, “Honey, don’t see this as my mustache, see it as our mustache. If you’re not liking the Tom Sellek look we could always try “The Hitler,” or better yet a good old fashioned handle bar stache’. Needless to say, Jeremy and his brothers a.k.a. “The Joint Chiefs of Stache’” breathlessly await their second annual observance of Mustache May in 2010.

You can tell a lot about a Gillespie based on their overall disinterest in physical exertion of any sort! Just to clarify, we’re talking about Elisabeth, not me! So she is eleven months old and so far her tricks include a violent wave of her forearm (waving hello), the word “dada” and a partial army crawl─ but only when you dangle candy six inches in front of her face. Our other girls were pretty much the laziest babies ever, but this last one sure is living up the lap dog life. Lucky for her she has older sisters willing to cart her around on their hip like a fat joweled Care Bear.

You Can Tell a lot about a Gillespie based on their willingness to hold a shrieking infant! Madeleine turned six years old this month and having her around to help with our fat joweled Care Bear has pretty much made the unpleasant squalling infant stage bearable. Even when our baby was still a five pounder last winter, I would often ask Madeleine to “take a turn” holding her and she gladly would. Recently she has taken to leaving a footstool next to the crib so that she can run upstairs and haul the baby out of bed after naptime. Now some of you may be feeling concerned right now, images of parental negligence flashing through your minds, but don’t you worry. After receiving a disapproving reprimand from Jeremy I decided to provide Madeleine with an emergency training course. She paid careful attention as I showed her how to turn her body so that she doesn’t crush the baby in the unhappy event that she should trip and fall. Well, let me tell you this kid ain’t dumb, because a few weeks later Madeleine started falling down the stairs with the baby in her arms and she correctly turned her body mid-fall and saved her sister! Other than a slight forehead graze on the banister, the baby was totally fine and I was left feeling immensely proud of Madeleine’s quick thinking, cat-like speed and reflexes. Unfortunately for me, Jeremy didn’t see the whole situation in quite the same light!

You can tell a lot about a Gillespie based on the number of times they see New Moon! Jeremy forced me to write this one. So here’s the deal, when the first Twilight movie was in the theater I was invited along with a big group of girls to go and I passively agreed, without much enthusiasm. Some of them showed up wearing “Bite Me” tee-shirts and someone was thoughtful enough to provide treat bags full of red candy and plastic vampire teeth. At some point during the hooting and hollering that went on during that movie it occurred to me that cult movies are REALLY fun. So this month I’ve seen New Moon twice in the theater and I informed Jeremy that when Eclipse comes out I’m going to the opening day, midnight showing. So for all you self-important movie critics out there, please save your arguments because I’m pretty sure we’ve heard em’ all. But life is too short to stay home with one’s nose sniffed up in disapproval and besides, I never was one to discriminate when it comes to inventing reasons for social gatherings!

I just re-read through this letter and I see it offers little in the way of true detail about our current life. I suppose our daily rituals─ Jeremy’s insurance brokering job with Moreton and missionary activities as Ward Mission Leader, my creative writing and teaching English classes at Arapahoe College, Madeleine learning how to read in Kindergarten, Katherine refining her criminal ways, and the baby eating, sleeping and crying all day long─ aren’t nearly as interesting. Oh well, we hope these brief snapshots speak for themselves in telling a lot about our crazy, happy, adventure filled life.

We wish you much love and laughter during this holiday season!

Love Jeremy, Lauren, Madeleine, Katherine, and Elisabeth Gillespie

PS- Please visit our slowly evolving blog: thegillespiegirls.blogspot.com

HALLOWEEN: PART TWO

2009-12-09T13:38:00.000-08:00

So I know that these posts are ridiculously out of order, but I just received these pictures a couple of weeks ago and I just wanted to commemorate what a fun Halloween we had with family this year. We don't have pictures of John and Shauna, Aunt Candy and Uncle Mike, or Lori and Darren Allred, but it was a rockin' party!

Beautiful Ballerinas

2009-12-09T13:31:00.000-08:00

Last Thursday our girls performed in their very first Dance Recital! We are so proud of them for being willing to get up on stage in front of so many people. I missed the big event because it was my last night of teaching at Arapahoe, but Jeremy, Elisabeth, Aunt Amelia, Ashley, Paige and Michael were cheering from the audience!

A Perfectly Snowy Day

2009-11-15T21:55:00.000-08:00

Our camara is currently out of order, compliments of Katherine, but I had to share a few details about our perfectly snowy day.

There were heavy storm clouds above Denver last night and they dropped nearly a foot of snow over our heads. The good news is that Jer and I stayed up really late watching 24 and he received the "church is cancelled due to the heavy snow fall" email before we even went to sleep. So we stayed up even later. And then this morning we stayed in bed until eleven am, taking turns getting up for the bare necessities like turning on cartoons and setting out food offerings for the young'uns.

We were planning to have my sister-in-law Lorie and the kids over for Sunday dinner but I was worried about her driving on the icy roads. Luckily, she is from Wyoming and wouldn't be cowed by twelve puny inches of snow. So they came over around noon and we made eggs, bacon, homemade scones and maple frosting. We sent seven of the eight kids outside (we gave little Elisabeth a temporary pass since she isn't even crawling yet) and they went sledding in our backyard for hours. Possibly not the best way to observe the sabbath day, but I'm not sure staying couped up in our house with 8 kids would have been any better!

Lorie and the kids left before dark and we spent the rest of the evening lugging boxes up from the basement and decorating for Christmas. Let me re-phrase that. Jeremy lugged all the boxes upstairs and then watched football while Katherine emptied out the contents of all six boxes in under five minutes. And then she started breaking things (it's always an accident though!) while Madeleine spent over an hour meticulously setting up our Fisher Price Nativity. We ate sandwiches on hot, homemade bread for dinner and the kids were asleep as soon as they hit their pillows.

You can't have a snow day everyday, or they would promptly lose their magic, but I'm so grateful that our family had today.

This is me, evolving!

2009-11-07T20:48:00.000-08:00

So the Halloween post was a trial run, compliments of my friend Steph Wilson who was here visiting this week from Arizona. Thank you Steph! Those of you who know me are gasping at the prospect of me creating and maintaining a blog. I know. And truthfully this whole process is itching like a too-tight all-wool blazer. It's true that I'm a determined advocate of pens, paper, envelopes and stamps, but as I was told in a training seminar before beginning a new teaching position at Arapahoe College last summer, "even the most techonologically resistant among us must, at some point, evolve." And so it is.

But I'm not going to give up on my traditionalist roots. I was thinking the other day about how after my cousin Joyce died of cancer two years ago I mailed a note to my Aunt Carol. She responded by saying that she appreciated my card enough to stick it in her box of "important letters and cards" that she keeps under her bed. I think we all need a box like that. I encourage those of you who travel to buy greeting cards and post cards as a remembrance instead of tacky knick knacks. I have a whole drawer full of cards that I send out every so often, not caring a whit if my friends and family are scratching their heads wondering when I was in Italy.

Beyond my grand scheme of technological evolution, the other reason for this blog is out of love and support for my dear Charie. She has asked me twice in the past six months to begin a blog so that she might catch a glimpse of the niece she has yet to meet. No one else in the world has had the gumption to make such a request, probably because I've done well at keeping other people's expectations of my computers skills very, very low. But sweet Charie has remained faithful, believing that it could happen, and so this effort is largely thanks to her.

PS- Over time you will be able to detect when my Gillespie family members have been over to visit because I'm waiting for them to help me fix up this blog and make it all fancy.

Happy Halloween

2009-11-05T09:42:00.000-08:00

This year we were bugs for Halloween! We have a lady bug, a butterfly, a spider and I am a bed bug. Pictures of Jeremy as our "exterminator" will follow soon!