Easter Outfits

The girls really only like to wear dresses. A distant second is the skirt, followed way behind by pants. We went to cold Utah for a week and made them wear pants almost every day. I know that other options exist (tights, leggings...) but it was fun (for me) to see them in something else. On the way home we stopped at the outlets in St. George, and the girls went ga ga over these dresses that I had had my heart set on for a few months. When worlds collide like this, you can't not get the dresses. They wanted to hold them for the rest of the trip (we didn't let them) and wore them on Saturday and Sunday. Happy to have dresses once again.

Clark's matching outfit handed down from my 21 year old brother didn't hurt.

Flip-Flap-Jack

I'm always on the lookout for a wonderful pancake recipe, and while I probably have no fewer than 15 in my recipe binder, this is the one I use most often- full of whole grain goodness, with buttermilk, a mix that is easy to make and makes pancakes and waffles in a moment's notice. I think you'll like it too. I add about a half cup of ground flax seed to the mix, just because I can. You could switch it up basically however you want.

While we're on the subject of breakfast, another thing that I'm tirelessly in the habit of making is granola. I love granola and eat it whenever I can. I usually riff off of this recipe, keeping the proportions the same, but adding less sweetener and oil (about a 1/4 cup less of each), and switching up the nuts and fruits as I (or my pantry) see fit. Oh, and doubling it, because making such a small amount is silly. Lately, though, I've been making this muesli, which is similar, but slightly less sweet. And you can endlessly change up what you put in, which is the fun- and deliciousness- of granola.

Wanted:

Someone stronger willed than I am to listen to my baby cry through the night so that I can peacefully sleep somewhere else.

With the girls I was desperate for sleep- I was waking up about 9 times a night feeding them separately so that they would develop their own sleep schedule instead of me waking the other up so I could feed them at the same time. By 7 months they were sleeping from about 6pm to 6am. Clark still wakes up once or twice at night and is days away from turning 11 months. It's too old, and I really am tired, but I have lost my will to hear him cry. And there's always a good reason not too- teething, being sick, going to have visitors, travelling. Once this current bout of sickness is done, I think that we'll just have to do it... or maybe after a trip we're planning in a few weeks... or maybe when he's 12.

Will someone else just be the one to listen to him cry? Anyone? Anyone?!

Smoking

We have a big thick yellow book that is a compilation of the Curious George books that were written by the original authors, including the first story that was published in 1941. Given the era in which the books were written, it is perhaps unsurprising that lots of the people in the stories and pictures (including Curious George himself) smoke at various points. Pipes appear to be the smoking implement of choice in Curious George's world. Interestingly, for some reason Grace really enjoys flipping through the book and carefully examining each picture for people with pipes, and then pointing them out and saying "Bad!" or "No smoking!"

When I read to the girls, I occasionally like to say the wrong words to see if they are paying attention. They are very good at noticing when something is amiss, and are quick to point it out. The other day I was reading to them from the Curious George book, and at one point, rather than relating what George actually did, I read that he said that he was going to go and enjoy a nice smoke on his pipe. Right away the girls shouted "No!--that's not right!"

Thinking that this was an opportunity to further reinforce the dangers of smoking, I said, "Really? Why wouldn't Curious George say that he was going to enjoy smoking his pipe?"

To which Camille replied without hesitation, "Silly Daddy. Everyone knows that Curious George can't talk."

That's Just Sick

When Paul took off for work this morning and glibly announced that he wouldn't be home until late because he would either have a meeting to go to or dinner with the world's most famous development economist, I wish that I had felt happy for him and happy in general. I mean, he's earning the money for our family to survive, serving others through our church, and possibly eating dinner with a group of brainy economists. But, instead I felt mad. Because I have been trapped in the house with 3 sick kids for 6 days and I'm going a little crazy.

Isn't it funny how we feel like each other's roles are so exotic and better than what we get each day? I used to work, and it was okay, but I wouldn't trade it for what I do now. And, Paul got a taste of being at home all day with the sickies on Saturday while he watched the kids for 3 hours. I called him in the middle of it and he said it was "so boring".

But I still wouldn't mind a day away from the sickies.