then he swooped her up just like in the books

John and me in line for a ride at Lagoon this past summer. I have always loved how perfectly I fit right underneath his arm.

I want to tell you about the man that I get to call my husband. He doesn't get a lot of attention on this blog (a fact that he is undoubtedly quite happy about), but today, on our 5 year anniversary, I want to give him some of the credit that he deserves. A couple of years ago I wrote down the story of how we met and fell in love (read that here if you missed it), but today I just want to share some thoughts about this most incredible, beautiful man that I married.

This is a man who does not raise his voice in anger. I have never ever heard him yell.

This is a man who cleans the bathrooms (always), washes the floors (always), and starts loads of laundry without being asked (sometimes).

This is a man who has faithfully risen at 3:00 AM for the past two years to go to work (at one of his 3 jobs, mind you) and who has never complained about it. Yes, he has expressed how tired he sometimes feels, but I have never once heard even the slightest complaint from him about having to get up for work. He just does it, happy to provide for us, and anxious to make me feel like he lives to take care of his family.

This is a man who goes into our baby girl's room at night to smell her. That might sound weird, but I think it is a beautiful illustration of his tender feelings for his baby-- that he just loves the sweetness of her scent.

This is a man who memorizes poems. This was one of the first things that immediately stood out to me about John-- what other 18 year old guy memorizes Ulysses or God's Grandeur or The Tyger? He has dozens and dozens of beautiful poems filed away in his brain. He rarely recites them aloud (and will never perform on command), but one of my favorite memories is of laying on his lap on a beach in Hawaii (right before he left on his mission) while he quietly recited poem after poem after poem to me. I love knowing that I married a man who appreciates and values beautiful words.

This is a man who loves sports. This might seem weird, but it was seriously important to me that I marry someone who knew more about sports that I did. I know a lot about sports. Like probably more than any girl you know. I dated lots of guys who were just casual sports fans and didn't get into it the way I did. I was always bothered by that. I wanted my man to be manly! And in my world that means having that competitive and athletic side.

This is a man who covered his eyes when he was a little boy and women's ice skating was on TV. He was worried that the costumes on the skaters were immodest and thought he shouldn't look at them. This makes me laugh now, and I tease him about it sometimes, but really, wouldn't you love it if your sons did the same thing? I pray that George has the exact same moral compass as his father.

This is a man who changes diapers and cleans up body fluids from our children without even blinking.

This is a man who tells me he loves me every time we talk on the phone. Every single time.

This is a man who loves it when I wear baggy long-sleeved tee-shirts. He notices when I take some time to dress up, and is good to tell me he thinks I am beautiful, but honestly, he has a hard time keeping his hands off me when I am just wearing a plain old tee-shirt. I love that I can feel comfortable and beautiful when I am in his arms.

This is a man who tempers my passion with his calm. And even though I sometimes want him to get all up in arms with me about something, I mostly am just really grateful for his level-headedness and clear thinking.

This is a man who, upon hearing about the way a jerky DMV employee treated me, immediately called and talked (calmly and level-headedly, of course :)) to a supervisor just because it was important to him to stand up for me (I didn't even know he had done this until well after the fact).

This is a man who calls my mom just to chat. (What son-in-law does that?)

This is a man who I knew would be an affectionate and dear husband because of the way he treated his own mom and sister. I have very specific memories from high school of him giving his mom and sister kisses on the head or cheek and thinking to myself that that is exactly the way I would want my future sons to treat me and their sisters one day.

This is a man who can make my heart skip a few beats just by winking at me from his seat on the stand at church on Sundays.

This is a man who eats anything and everything I cook and always expresses his gratitude to me for making dinner. If he particularly likes something I've made he makes sure to make a big deal out of it, ooooing and aaahhing over and over :).

This is a man who makes me feel comfortable in my own skin, who has never ever said one negative word about the way I look. Even when I am 9 months pregnant and feel gigantic, I really do believe him when he says that he finds me just as attractive then as he does when I fit into my skinny jeans. I have never once felt like I am not attractive to him.

This is a man who gets me glasses of ice water whenever I ask (and I ask a lot).

This is a man who saves the best/last bites of yummy things for me.

This is a man who loves to play jokes and tease people. He secretly changed his name to "Bonesaw" in my mom's phone and then proceeded to call her for a few days and leave her totally baffled at who "Bonesaw" was. He used a scary voice and told her he was coming for her and her children until he couldn't keep up the charade any more and cracked up laughing.

This is a man who knows the names of all the old ladies in our ward and makes a point of shaking their hands, calling them "Sister _____," and making them feel like a million bucks. I am certain they all have crushes on him.

This is a man who hugs people. That is something that so many of my extended family members have commented on-- how you can always count on a hug from John.

This is a man who, after spending a few days stewing over the fact that we had almost gotten TOTALLY ripped off by a heating company, felt bad about how frustrated he was with them (though he was completely justified in being so), and one night in our prayer asked for forgiveness for being prideful and thinking he was right (which he was, by the way).

This is a man who is so, SO funny. He makes me laugh all of the time. And not just kind of, sort of laugh-- I am talking like a full on, stomach muscles are sore, eyes are watering laugh. He really does have the quickest wit and best sense of humor.

This is a man who, despite his deep spiritual sensitivity and convictions, is also able to just be real. He appreciates the occasional naughty joke, and he laughs hysterically at the completely inappropriate things that my brothers say. Before I knew him well in high school I wondered this about him-- sure he was the most incredible person I knew, but would he also be a prude and think that some of the things I said were totally out of line? I soon found out that, oh no, he certainly wasn't a prude. And I love that about him.

This is a man who cut up peaches and crushed up ice for me (by hand) after I had given birth to my babies, and brought them to me in my bed so I wouldn't move. He was constantly telling me I was "over-doing it" and would try to get me to lay down whenever I would attempt to do anything for myself. I used to think that men wanted their women to be tough, and I still think that they do in some ways, but I never knew how much it would mean to a man to just be able to take care of his wife. I am so grateful I married a man who truly finds his purpose and happiness in taking good care of me and our babies, and I am learning to be better about just letting him do that sometimes.

. . .

I am not writing this all out to try to paint the picture of a perfect man. He isn't perfect, and we don't always see eye to eye about everything. Maybe you can tell by now that he isn't necessarily the most romantic guy on the planet, and my list wasn't full of all the times he has bought me flowers and taken me on extravagant trips or dates. Those kind of things aren't really his forte, I guess, but I am okay with that. I am okay with that because of how good he is at everything else-- at doing little things constantly and effortlessly that show his deep devotion and love to me and our children. I can honestly say that I am married to the best person that I know. The very best. He is so much more than I could have ever hoped to have, and I sometimes feel inadequate to be his wife.

We have had this conversation more than once-- that I cannot see how he could possibly love me as much as I love him because of the kind of person that he is compared to the kind of person I am (and I'm really not trying to put myself down here-- I know I am a fine person. But have you met my husband?)-- and he always responds by telling me that one day I will understand his feelings for me, that one day I will know the depth of his love for me. But here is the truth:

I already know it.

Even if I can't understand it, I know it. I cannot doubt something that is shown to me time and time again, every single day of my life. His love for me is laced seamlessly and beautifully through the hours and minutes of my life, woven into each and every good thing that is mine. It is in all the things I described above, plus a thousand other little details that, when added together, comprise all of the beauty and happiness in my life.

I hope that he can feel my love back for him just as tangibly.

5 years into our marriage, happier and fuller than I have ever been.

tubes for our penguin

The only two names that George EVER calls his sister by are "Pearlenguin" and "Penguin." Really. I have never heard him call her Pearl. If you ask him, he thinks her real name is Pearlenguin, and then nonchalantly adds, "But I just call her Penguin." The history of these nicknames dates back to when I was pregnant and we didn't know if the baby was a boy or a girl. It is kind of a long story, so I'm not going to get into it, but somehow, Pearlenguin stuck and is now just Penguin. I guess there is the occasional "Lenguin" or "Pengy" or "Lengy," but never Pearl or anything like it. A n y w a y...

Our Penguin has had a problem with fluid in her ears since she was 4 months old. This causes ear infections, and although she was never in any noticeable pain, there were infections (says the doctor), which means there were antibiotics. I am really not a fan of antibiotics, but I also didn't want my baby suffering with an earache that I was oblivious to. 3 rounds of antibiotics later (trust me, I was not happy about this and neither was Pearl), the fluid was still persistent. The recommendation from our pediatrician (who I really love and trust) was to proceed with the minor surgery to place tubes in her ears. I wasn't too concerned about the ear infections-- they didn't seem to bother Pearl and so I wouldn't have gotten the tubes if that was the only problem. The main concern, however, was that with the fluid in her ears constantly she could not hear and process sounds clearly. This is a major concern with speech and language development, and I really didn't want to risk the fluid negatively impacting her normal development.

So on November 4th our little Pea Baby had the tubes put in. The night before we let George sleep at my parents' house because we had to be to the hospital really early the next morning. It was weird not having to divide our attention and John and I had so much fun just soaking up all the time alone with our baby girl. Individually we get one on one time with Pearl, but we rarely get to enjoy just her when both of us are there. It was so much fun, and we had such a lovely night together.

We gave her a bath and then just sat in her room and played with her.

She was so sweet and I think she liked not having to share her parents with her brother for a night :).

While I was nursing her to sleep John was able to place his hands on her little head and give her a blessing of health and comfort. I am in love with those tender moments of parenting and caring for our children with my husband. No pictures of that (obviously), but here are some of Pearlie with John and me that night. I love the one of her with John.

The next morning we woke Pearl up before the sun had risen and drove to the hospital.

She was such a happy baby for how little sleep she had gotten. She started in her jammies and ended up in a little hospital gown. Cutest thing ever. The best part is that they let me keep it. No idea what I will do with a tiny hospital gown, but I love that I have it.

Her foot was hooked up to an oxygen monitor and she was loving the built-in cord to play with and chew on.

We played with her for a little while in the room while we waited for them to be ready for her.

Then we walked her to the OR, gave her a little kiss, and handed her off to the nurse. I wondered if I would be sad or worried at this part (even though this is a routine surgery, it is still MY baby going back there to be put to sleep), but I was fine. We were then walked to a little room where we watched ESPN and drank juice.

A nurse brought her to me as soon as she woke up. She was groggy and could barely open her eyes, but she was pretty unhappy. She wasn't crying hard, but was just so obviously confused and sad. I asked if I could nurse her immediately and they told me I could. I know you already know this about me, but holy cow, I love nursing my babies. I love that I am the only person in the world who could offer that kind of comfort and nourishment to my baby right then, fresh out of surgery. Breastfeeding is one of my all-time favorite things in life right now.

The doctor came and talked with us and told us how everything had gone. Things went smoothly (aside from her oxygen levels getting really low when she was nursing), and Pearl fell asleep right as they cleared us to leave. It was kind of bad timing because she woke up when I unlatched her and put her in her car seat. And as you can see, she was not a happy girl.

After one sad day Pearl was pretty much back to normal. I have no idea if the tubes are working or not. No clue. She seems the same to me, but I also never knew that she had ear infections. We go back to the ENT for her follow up appointment tomorrow and I am so hoping that there is no fluid and that things look good. Wish us luck!

not a pro

I take a lot of pictures of my kids. Like, a whole lot. Maybe you've noticed?? Ha. Sometimes I hesitate to post all of the pictures I take because I don't want it to seem like I think I am some fantastic photographer or something. I am just a mom who happens to really love to take photos.

I have had a passion for photography since I was in high school, dressing my little sisters all up and taking them up the canyon for photo shoots, and then developing my own film in the school's darkroom. I learned to use my film SLR on its manual settings, and became addicted to the feeling of getting an image (amid the hundreds that were taken) that I really loved.

That passion only intensified when I gave birth and found that getting pictures that I loved of my OWN children was priceless to me. Add in the digital-SLR and Photoshop and, holy cow, I fell completely, head-over-heels in love with all things photography.

So, three paragraphs of disclaimer later, what I am trying to say is this: I love taking pictures. I love editing pictures. I know how to use my camera and I feel like I usually end up with some decent shots. BUT, in no way do I think I am a professional photographer, and in no way am I trying to be one. There are plenty of professionals out there without me throwing my hat into the ring. I am simply a mom who loves taking pictures of her kids. That's it. I have no intentions of making this hobby a business-- I am not that good! I know lots of people who have started their own photography businesses, and I think they are fantastic, but that isn't the direction I am personally heading. I would feel sheepish posting these pictures if I hadn't gotten all of that off my chest because I didn't want anyone thinking that I fancied myself a "real" photographer :). Are we clear? Whew!

There is this great multi-colored wall in Salt Lake that I heard about and decided to drag my kids and husband there after church one Sunday to see if we could get any good pictures. We got a few that I liked, but I actually would love to go back and try again.

I love the way George puts his hand under Pearl's chin. He does it all the time when I am taking pictures of them for some reason.


It was a bit windy and you will notice Pearlie's hair being rather unruly in all the photos. Oh well, at least she has a sweet little face, right?


Isn't this wall cool?


Georgie would not stand still and be normal. The splits was as close to normal as we could get.


Just around the corner from the colorful wall there was a white wall that we stopped at for a few minutes. I love Pea's hand on her brother and the way she looks up at him.




Their little grins make me happy.


George was telling us stories about Mario and Luigi and mostly just wanted to talk about how exciting it would be to go to a Koopa's castle and throw fire at him.


Still telling Mario stories, probably about pulling arms off of bad guys or something. Poor Pearl.


See what the wind did to her baby-fine, long newborn hair?


Ah, there we go. Smoothed down for a moment.


I've told you about her tongue-love before, but I think this might be my favorite tongue picture to date. So funny.


My handsome little boy. Love him so much, even if he won't look at the camera very often anymore.


Pea was trying to pick the pebbles out of the asphalt and G was trying to wink like his daddy.


When we were finished taking pictures we went up to my parents' house for dinner. Since I am me, of course I took the lovely pre-sunset light to snap a few more shots outside. These photos did not turn out the way I envisioned them in my head, but luckily, since I'm not a pro (did I mention that? ;)), I can make mistakes.


I liked the light on that little weed. That's all.


I just happened to catch him looking at me when he came up from rolling around on the ground.


I could eat her.


So grateful to have my sweet blue-eyed babies as live-in photo subjects.

john says i should title this post "halloween post"

Because he is creative like that.

I know that I am late to this party, but my internet was all broken, remember? So, a week late, you get the remainder of our Halloween festivities (well, the ones that made the blog-cut, anyway).

First there was the carving of the pumpkins we picked out at the patch. Pearl and I let the boys get out all the guts.


And while they carved...

(what?? you don't let your three-year-old wield large kitchen knives?)

... Pearl did what she does: licked and gummed.


After sucking on the outside of a pumpkin for quite some time and getting absolutely nothing out of it, I decided to give Pearl the top to one of the pumpkins so that she could suck on the inside edge and at least get a little raw pumpkin flavor.


Here is what we ended up with. George requested scary pumpkins, and I think we mostly delivered. John carved the giant, man-eating mouther, and I carved the evil eye guy.


Next up was the fall festival at our little school. If there is one lesson I have learned repeatedly as a teacher it is that the party days are always way more work and more tiring than the regular days. But I sure do love this little class of mine.


Remember when I alluded to lots of alliteration for us this Halloween? I was talking about my kids' costumes. We were all about "P"s this year-- I had a pirate, a peacock, and a pink poodle, and I must say, they rocked their little costumes out.

George got to dress up in his pirate (more specifically, Captain Hook) costume for the festival and parade at school, and it was so much fun for me to have my own child racing by me in the parade this year. His class sang some Halloween songs for us after, and I just still can't believe that my boy is old enough to be up there with all the other kids. Here are a couple of shots of Pea in her Peacock costume at the school and then G in the parade and singing with his class.

I was determined to get a few decent pictures of my kiddos in their costumes this year. I always have great intentions to do so, but things always get crazy on Halloween and I don't end up having the time to get any pictures with decent light. BUT on Saturday afternoon I had a few spare minutes (and even postponed Pearlie's nap a bit) to get the kids dressed up and pull out my camera. The rain threatened to ruin our efforts, but it held out just long enough to let us get a few shots. Here are my handsome pirate and sweet peacock.

I did not get any good pictures of them together, but here's the best I could do.

If you look closely you will notice the little raindrops starting to show up on Pearl's costume in those last pictures. It was rainy and pretty cold that evening for trick-or-treating, so we swapped out the Peacock for the much warmer Pink Poodle, and even though I was mildly obsessed with the Peacock, I have to say, Pearl makes a pretty darn cute poodle.

We went over to the church for a little trunk-or-treat action that ended up having nothing to do with trunks and more to do with buckets of candy on tables inside (thank you, rain). Whoever invented the whole trunk-or-treat thing was brilliant though-- best way ever to get large quantities of candy in small amounts of time.

The picture on the right is of Miss Poodle in the church, watching all of the costumed kids go by with much wonder. (And her cherubic cheeks just about kill me.)

Even though George scored more than enough candy at the church, he still wanted to go trick-or-treating to a few houses. We started out with our next-door neighbors in the drizzly cold, and although this picture is blurry, I really love it. Love the daddies holding the smallest kids, and the bigger kids walking ahead down the rainy street, and the movement that is trick-or-treating.

I was amazed at George's eagerness to continue trick-or-treating despite the cold. The other kids were freezing and done, but G wanted to keep going. So we did. I actually really loved walking along with him from house to house, reminding him to say "trick-or-treat," and greeting all our neighbors with my sweet little Captain Hook. John held Pearl the whole time and came along, too. My poor freezing Poodle, but we couldn't make her brother miss out on this once-a-year candy giving phenomenon, and John and I both wanted to be with George, too.

So we all trudged on together in the dark and the rain.

George got a LOT of candy. When we got home I introduced him to the fantastic world of dumping out and sorting all your candy to see how many of the good things you got. Pearl was crazy about all the bright colored wrappers and interesting things to grab.

I love this picture because George was trying so carefully to keep Pearl's grabby little hands at bay by sticking his leg out, but oh no, that was not going to stop her. And George is too nice to really get mad and take all the candy completely out of her reach.

See? Nevermind that the sucker still has its wrapper on.

Well good, now that I am caught up with all that (and we have the internet working at our house again), hopefully I can stay a little more current. I take way too many pictures.