Frozen Bananas

Mother's Day

2012-05-21T05:42:01Z

Last week the family headed up to north so that we could accompany Dan on his annual business trip to Portland. It seemed like the perfect opportunity for us to all to spend some quality time with Grandpa and Grandma. The week before, in preschool, Little H had been working hard on her Mother's Day gift. I was so excited to be getting my first official school project/gift and even conveyed that to Dan in passing. My mom would always say how much she loved the things we made for her, but I was a little cynical. In my mind, I was sure she would have preferred a new CD (or probably tape cassette if I really need to date myself) or book. But now that I'm a mother myself, I finally understand the sincerity of her words. The fact that my daughter made something for me, meant that she was thinking about me for however long she was working on it, she was thinking of me more often during the days preceding Mother's Day because she couldn't wait to surprise me, and she thinks that I deserve something that she put a lot of thought and love into.

But in the end, she did forget to bring the present with us. That was fine, though, and I told her she could still surprise me when we got back. But on Sunday morning I found out that not everyone in our family is as forgetful as my daughter when Dan and the kids brought in the best Mother's Day gift I've ever gotten.

I recognized the my scrapbook paper from home, so I know it had taken some planning and forethought on his part. Among my favorite 'Reasons We Love Mommy' were:

"Because she is nice" - written in Little H's handwriting

"Because she loves me"

and of course "Because she gave us a cool dad" (I'm sure the kids came up with that on their own)

I have to say, that most of the things written in there are also reflective of why I love my own mother. Even though we can sometimes be polar opposites in our opinions, I have never once in my life doubted that I have the most loving, self-sacrificing mother in the world. She would (and has) dropped everything in her life to be there for her kids and grandkids. In fact, I might say that her greatest weakness is that she can't say 'no'. I'm always wary of asking her to babysit because I don't want to infringe on whatever she has planned, and I know she'd reschedule a heart attack in order to watch her grandkids.

I'm so lucky to have all the moms in my life that I do, and I'm also grateful for the moms I have in the next life that I know are still looking after us.

Buster's Birthday

2012-05-07T04:10:39Z

I can't believe this little stinker is already three years old. We love him so much. He adds quite the dynamic to our family, and I can't imagine life without him. The little goofball is fun, and silly, and a lot of the times quite moody, but I can't imagine life without him.

He's trying to hold up three fingers in this picture, but somehow it just looks like his hand is broken.

Feeling My Age

2012-04-22T16:03:05Z

Last week when the weather was so nice we pulled out all the kids summer toys and started the annual tradition of seeing what still worked. My retired neighbor came over while I was in the middle of putting my daughter's training wheels back on (yes, I said back on), and proceeded to fix the handle bars on the wiggle car, align the wheel on the tricycle, and, once I was done, fill Little H's tires with air. As the kids were enjoying their old 'new' toys, we chatted and he noted how much the kids seemed to have grown over the winter.

"It definitely makes me feel old," I told him.

"Oh, come on, Megan you're not that old. What are you, thirty-three?"

"Something like that," I smiled.

"Well whatever you're doing, keep it up, because you don't look a day over thirty-three."

So what I am to surmise from that statement is that I look like someone in their late thirties who has taken really good care of themselves when in actuality I am a thirty-one-year-old, who apparently needs to take better care of herself.

And suddenly I find myself in the market for a good eye cream.

Happy (estimated) Birthday, Casey

2012-04-15T15:42:49Z

Because our anniversary is on the same day, we often forget to pay much attention to the birthday of our oldest dependent. And though we don't know his actual birthday, we gave him April 14th, because that's the day we adopted him. The agency we got him from estimated him to be 1 1/2 - 2 years old when we got him, which means he just turned approximately 12 yesterday.

Dan wasn't totally on board when decided to get him, but he was guilted into it because I cried and, only one year into our marriage, he hadn't quite learned how to deal with the tears (don't worry, he's learned). That first year with Casey was sometimes trying on our marriage, i.e. the time he chewed a pen up to the point it leaked all over the new carpet, or the time he got into my purse and ate a package of gum, tinfoil and all, and threw up minty blobs all over the condo. But he's a relatively good dog, and for over four years he was the closest thing we had to a child. He used to sit in my lap and cuddle to keep me company when Dan was working and for a long time he used to sleep on our bed by our feet.

I worried how he would be when we had children because he doesn't get along well with other dogs, and it takes him a bit to warm up to strangers. But I shouldn't have been worried, because he loves the kids. And he tolerates them more than he tolerates anyone else - I can't imagine how he would react if I tried to ride his back.

Now that he's getting up in age, he sleeps for the majority of the day, but he's still up and jumping to greet the kids in the morning. And even though we no longer let him on the furniture or dress him up anymore (for some reason I've lost the urge to put clothes on squiggly resistant body masses), I still think he's a great dog.

Dancing Queen

2012-04-01T16:47:19Z

I never thought in a million years that I would have a daughter who would embrace all things girly. On the off chance that I got a girl, I was positive that she would be a rough and tumble little soccer player. But somehow I ended up with the little girl that my mother was supposed to have. Little H convinced us to sign her up for dance this last January. She loved the class, but I think most of all she loved getting dressed up. Last week was her last dance class and the whole class put on a 20-minute show so we could see everything they've learned. Little H was super nervous that she might 'mess up' in front of Papa and Grandma and Aunt Shelly, but after a few reassurances the little diva pulled herself together and put on a fantastic show.

And she looks so pretty, too, right? It takes a lot of work for me to be such a fantastic dance mom. You should have seen my first several attempts at a ballet bun (thank goodness for YouTube). Little H wants to take a little time off from dance, which is fine with me, but I'm sitting here wondering if she remembers our agreement that if we signed her up for dance class then she would play soccer in the fall. I guess she'll find out soon enough.

Self Hypnosis

2012-03-19T03:50:28Z

I know it may sound awful, but I don't think it's wrong to lie to my kids. Especially when it makes life easier for me. Little H has been particularly whiny lately, and I have been at a loss at how to handle it. Paying attention would probably just reinforce the behavior, and sending her to her room has been getting old. When we've had a really bad day, she'll tell me, "I can't help it, Mom. God made me sensitive." It was cute at first, but got old quickly.

Last Friday, I was at my wit's end. In the middle of a giant, giant fit because she'd hurt the back of her foot (nothing hurts as bad as she made it sound), I just had to walk away. I got on the computer and googled 'whiny 5 year-old'. I was hoping to find a boot camp or special school to send her to, but instead found a very helpful article where some of the moms just told their kids they couldn't understand them when they used their whiny voices.

I was determined to give it a try. I was worried that Little H might be too smart for this, and the fact that I had always understood her up to this point might mean that she wouldn't believe me. So I made it a little interesting...

I went upstairs (she was still weeping and wailing) and just looked at her like I was confused. Then I said, "I just went down and watched a video that taught me how to hypnotize myself so I can't hear whining. Are you whining right now? Because I can't hear a thing."

This seemed to upset her more at first, so I just said "What was that?" a few more times and then walked away. Once she got used to the idea, she finally came and found me and spoke in a calm voice. It was so nice. And not only that, but it's been working like a charm for the last few days. Sometimes I accidentally respond when she or her brother get weepy, but she hasn't noticed my mistakes so far. All weekend she's been asking me to 'unhypnotize' myself, but I think I like this too much to change. I just wonder how long it can last.

Discovering

2012-03-12T00:06:19Z

We went to Discovery Gateway for Little H's field trip on Friday. We've only been once before so I'd sort of forgotten how chaotic the whole thing can be. Grandpa and Grandma were in town which greatly eased my anxiety and increased my chances of getting out of there with both kids unscathed. In spite of their help, I still managed to lose Buster once when I started following a different kid wearing the same color shirt.

Overall I think everyone had fun. I just wish I had managed to take more than one picture that was focused. Looking through them, I ended up with plenty of blurred bodies and pictures of other people's children, but it was hard to get my kids to stand still and smile. Afterwards we met Dan for lunch where we let an exhausted Buster curl up and fall asleep on a dirty, sticky food court chair.

Quarantined

2012-03-04T16:07:21Z

Little H came down with something nasty last Sunday which confined us to the house most of the week. I usually say that I love it when my kids are sick because they are so sweet and cuddly and it seems to be the only time they really need 'mommy' and not just 'MOM!' But I have never had something that has kept my kids down for longer than two days until now. Therefore, I need to change my former statement: I love it when my kids are are sick for two days, and that's it.

By the end of the week, I'd had my fill of whining, cartoons, disinfecting, soup, and most definitely Angry Birds. Most weeks I get plenty of all those things anyway (maybe not the soup), but this week there was no escape. No preschool, no dance class, no visiting friends or relatives, not even grocery shopping. We all got pretty sick of each other, and by Thursday Little H came to me begging to go to preschool. I was tempted, but looking her over, with her runny, red nose, bloodshot eyes, phlegmy cough and overall 'someone tried to drown me but it didn't work so they dragged me behind their car on a dirt road' appearance, I had to reconsider. My sister was here throughout, which helped, and Dan got his fair share when I had to work, but overall, it was not fun, and I did not love it.

Things seem to be better now, and no one got it as bad as Little H. It seemed to skip over Buster entirely, so fingers crossed it stays away. Although, the difference between the two of them is that he would probably be completely happy laying on the couch watching television all day, which I know because he did it several times last week as he piggy-backed on Little H's illness.

Where Everything (Especially My Waistline) Really Is Bigger

2012-02-26T05:21:51Z

We were able to go visit our Texas cousins last week for the first time since they moved there, and it was so great. It really shouldn't have taken us almost six years to make our way down south. Little H was a little afraid of the plane ride because of her new phobia in which she's scared of pretty much everything, but it turned out that the turbulence we had for a few minutes was actually her favorite part of the ride.

After we figured out the paper map that the car rental place had given us (lame, I know, but our GPS decided to sputter out and eventually die on this trip) and with a helpful phone call to Dan's brother, we made it to their house. There wewere greeted by two damp kids and a big umbrella to help us to the door so we didn't have to get wet. I don't usually like to make sweeping generalizations, but as a whole, Texans are some of the most polite people I've had the pleasure of being around. People were always holding doors, looking us in the eye, saying hello, and almost always smiling. It reminded me of the town I grew up in, except these were millions of complete strangers - I mean I didn't actually run into all of them, but I got a pretty good sampling, I'd say.

Anyway, it was so much fun to see the Stockyards in Fort Worth, see the money being printed at the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, and try out a few 'real' barbecue restaurants, but the best part was seeing family. It was nice for the adults to be able to catch up, but even more importantly, it was nice that the kids got to play together. I think Little H wanted to take one of her cousins home as an older sister, and Buster was just as willing to take an older brother home with him. Actually, given the choice, my kids probably would have chosen to just be adopted by their aunt and uncle because they are so much "funner" than us. The kids have grown so much, and they were all just as cool as they ever were. At one point Little H decided that we needed to buy one of the homes next door. When Dan tried to explain that we couldn't afford to because we didn't have jobs in Texas, Little H logically pointed out that the McDonald's we had stopped at earlier had a 'Now Hiring' sign in the window.

Thanks again to the great hospitality and generosity shown by our wonderful Texas family! They made this trip truly memorable!

The Comedienne

2012-02-12T16:50:04Z

The other day I was watching a neighbor's children while she ran a few errands. My daughter, who always thinks it's her job to entertain when we have people over, was dragging the girls from room to room to help them decide what toy they wanted to play with. I was in the kitchen slicing onions for spaghetti sauce and bawling my eyes out (because of the onions). I was keeping an ear out for weeping or yelling, but otherwise wasn't too concerned with what the kids were up to. Then suddenly, I hear hysterical laughing coming from the front room. And it didn't stop after just the one time so my curiosity got the better of me and I set out to investigate.

I stayed in the corner of the room so I wouldn't interrupt. There I saw Buster and the neighbor kids lined up on the floor watching Little H's routine. Aside from some Three Stooge-esque trips and fake falls, the line that really brought down the house was when she would grab Buster by the shoulders and comically shake her own head from side-to-side repeating "What kind of kid are you? I'm going crazy," in a monster voice. It was pretty funny and sweet that she was working so hard to make everyone happy.

Proud of my daughter and satisfied the kids were all still alive, I went back to cutting onions. It wasn't until that moment that the question hit me. Where exactly was she getting her material?

Curious Buster

2012-02-05T15:48:41Z

My son thinks he's a monkey. And probably, for all intents and purposes he's right. It took me awhile to notice, but now it is making me crazy.

He has a morning routine that we hardly ever deviate from because it can totally ruin our day if we do. He will usually wake up around 7 and start loudly declaring "Alup" (I'm up). The next thing he will do is turn on all the kitchen lights. If I already have them on, he'll turn them all off and then back on again. Then we make his chocolatemilk (it's Carnation, for anyone out there judging me) and he sits down to watch Curious George.

I didn't notice what was happening until one day I was sitting at the computer and I heard a series of high-pitched grunts. I wondered, who had turned on the television? And I turned around to find just Buster sitting on the floor playing with his trucks. He had sounded exactly like that dang cartoon monkey. Over the next few days I began to notice it more and more. Sometimes we would have entire conversations where he wouldn't even attempt to speak. He would just motion and "uh, uh, uh". (Thankfully I've seen a lot of Curious George and I grew up with three brothers so I understand enough 'monkey' to get by.) Also, the whole monkey transformation idea begins to hold more water as I watch the boy climb on and jump off every piece of furniture we own.

Making Their Presence Known

2012-01-29T15:43:33Z

Everyday, all day, I feel like I'm cleaning up messes. I'm not sure how the kids do it, but they have an internal radar that tells them when I've just finished cleaning a room in the house. It can be any room - the front room, their bedroom, the kitchen, even the bathroom - and they will pack up boxes of toys and then dump them in my clean room. Sometimes they don't even play with them. I have my own theory that (not unlike dogs) they are marking their territory. But really, if someone were to come into our house and not know that we had kids, then that person would have to blind and deaf and in a coma.

And Buster is the best at this game. He loves to dump things out for no particular reason. The other day, I hosted a church group of nine year-olds and we made sock snowmen. I had to promise Little H that we could make one afterwards so she would stay out of our way. She was so cute designing all the different parts, and I was busy with the glue gun keeping up with her requests. I could hear Buster, but I wasn't paying attention to what he was doing until Little H ominously said "Uh, oh." There was rice, paint, sparkles, ribbon and other stuff I didn't even know we had out strewn all over Buster, the table, the chairs, and the floor. (Luckily the camera was nearby so I thought to take a picture before I put him in timeout. Poor kid probably wouldn't be smiling if he had known what was coming next.)

New Parents

2012-01-23T05:37:20Z

My brother and his wife just had their first baby this past week. He is an adorable, brown-eyed, tiny, sweet baby boy. My brother is just over the moon with his new baby. I can tell because I've seen several opportunities for him to make snide remarks or sarcastic comments, and he let's them pass without even making a face.

Watching my brother and sister-in-law with their new baby has reminded me of what it felt like to be a new parent. Sleeping with my hand in the bassinet so I can feel her breathing, watching her sleep for hours at a time because I thought it was the only thing keeping her alive while the housework caved in around me, letting others hold her but suffering a silent panic attack every time she whimpered in their arms. At the same time trying to deal with an overwhelming surge of love for this tiny human being who, at least in the beginning, only cares that you keep her comfortable and fed. It was the first time I understood the meaning of unconditional love. Such a wonderful and scary time of life.

I'm very proud of these kids (yes I still think of them as kids). They are going to do a great job. There are some men in this world who are okay without raising kids of their own, some who have the title of 'dad' thrust upon them, some who learn as they go and end up doing a great job, and some who just go through the motions. But then there are some men in this world who were just meant to be dads, and I've always thought that to be the case for all my brothers. Even as teenagers they were great with younger children. As they got older, they all made wonderful uncles to my and my sister's kids. And now that they all have kids of their own, I've been able to see how they all have fit into the role of 'dad' like it was a comfortable mold. Something I'm sure they all learned from our own dad.

Little Girl, Huge Anxiety

2012-01-15T04:08:18Z

Little H has been going through some stuff lately. It started back in December, and I just blamed the excitement over the holidays. I incorrectly thought she would go back to normal after Christmas. She is having a hard time going to bed without sobbing over something every night. Plus, she cries any time we are separated for some reason. She goes to preschool, she cries. I go to a church meeting, she cries. I go downstairs to work in my dungeon when Dan gets home, she cries. And it's not just when I leave or she goes to bed. No, she will start crying spontaneously over the most ridiculous things. Here's how one of our conversations went the other day:

Little H: Mom, I have a secret.

Me: What is it, hon?

Little H (tears welling up in her eyes): You know how sometimes people tease me about having a crush on Justin Bieber?

Me: Sure.

Little H (tears streaming down her face): I think I really do. And I just want to cry about it.

Me: Okay, that's fine. Why does it make you cry?

Little H (sobbing at this point): Because I kept it a secret, and I didn't tell you right away.

But it's not just Bieber who has her crying. Oh no, she is crying over crushes on her preschool teacher's son, two kids in her preschool class, her cousin's cousin (no blood relation), some kids she saw in church, and her uncle (definitely a blood relation) to name a few. It's so weird. Plus she's always needing reassurances that we won't be the victims of a tornado or volcano. Thank goodness she hasn't learned about earthquakes, yet. She couldn't sleep one night last week because she overheard a conversation between Dan and I about a cousin of mine who was in the hospital. I have always tried to be open and honest with her when she has questions, but lately I feel like I want to lie to her if the truth doesn't paint the world in rainbows and sunshine. Somehow my baby girl has taken on the weight of the world, and I don't know exactly how to lift it off her shoulders. I hate thinking there is something I should have done to prevent it. I've even wondered if a pediatric therapist might help. One day at a time, though, right?

A Brand New Year

2012-01-08T20:45:23Z

I don't know how 2011 passed my by so quickly. I don't usually make resolutions, but I decided to give it a try this year. The problem is that I've come up with a list about a foot long of things I'd like to work on. I should probably narrow it down, but I'm not sure how. Losing weight, having a regular family night, finishing Buster's baby book, keep up with this blog (ha, ha) etc. They all seem so important. So for now I'll just try to do them all until I burn out by the end of January.

We brought in the New Year quietly at home with the family this year. My parents, sisters, and my sister's family came by, which was really fun. Our neighbors were nice enough to set off fireworks at 10:30 so the kids were actually able to see some of the celebration before we made them go to bed.

2011, I'll remember you as the year I lost my Grandma H. (for now, at least), the year I gained three beautiful new nieces, and the year I attempted to grow my hair out (an experiment still in process), among many, many other great and sometimes not-so-great things. Although, I'm sure we'll still be seeing each other intermittently until I can get used to writing 2012, so long 2011!

Christmas 2011

2012-01-02T03:11:18Z

December started out with a horrendous storm in Northern Utah with 100 mph winds that tore down signs, ripped out trees, and knocked out power for 50,000 homes and also completely messed up the Christmas lights I had just put up.

Every year I tell myself I'm going to get all the hard stuff out of the way so I can just enjoy all of December, and every year I don't. At least I'm consistent that way. It is a lot of fun with the kids, though, and I love how magical this time of year is for them. We got to go up to Washington and spend Christmas with the Dan's parents this year. It was really nice. The kids love being able to spend time with their grandparents, and Dan and I always enjoy being able hang out with them without being held back by time constraints, work, and all the other complications that can get in the way. If you really want to know how Christmas felt for me, all you would need to do is post these pictures up all over the room and then spin in circles until you collapse satisfied and exhausted into a pool of your own sweat.

Flying Fairy Ball

2011-12-04T23:39:10Z

Yesterday my kids were fighting over a bouncy ball. Being the proactive mother that I am, I decided to interject after about a half hour. Assessing the situation, it appeared that Buster wasn't fetching the ball up to Little H's standards. I told her that she needed to give Buster the ball since it belonged to him. She decided to not just give it to him but actually launch it at his head. Fortunately she 'throws like a girl' and it landed beside him on the couch. Buster, having no idea that the ball was meant to incapacitate him, laughed and threw it back to her. Little H got into the game, and they ended up throwing the ball back and forth for the next fifteen minutes. She called me back into the room after about five minutes to witness the two of them getting along:

Little H: I think Buster and I just invented a new game.

Me: Wow! Maybe you should call it 'catch'.

Little H: Why would we call it that?

Me: You're right, that was a bad idea. What are you going to call it?

Little H: I think 'Flying Fairy' because the ball flies through the air.

This "new" game has actually been keeping the kids happy for a few days now. Why had I not thought of this before?

Halloween 2011

2011-11-13T23:14:30Z

Halloween is absolutely my most favorite holiday. Or at least tied for first with the 4th of July. This year, when I started planning costumes two months in advance, Little H told me that she wanted to be Candace from the Disney cartoon Phineas and Ferb. This being one of the few cartoons that I really like to watch with the kids, I was pretty happy. Plus I could pick a costume for Buster that could go along the same Phineas and Ferb theme. As easy as it was to put a costume together for Little H, finding a Platypus costume for Buster proved rather difficult. Eventually I found a pattern for a crocheted hat that I thought would work. The only problem was that I didn't know how to crochet...

So I called my grandma and asked her to teach me. No problem. I am very confident in my abilities and knew I could learn to crochet in just a couple hours. My grandma is ambidextrous when it comes to crocheting so she's one of the few people I knew that would be able to teach me left-handed. The lesson was very eye-opening and made my hands hurt. It also made me realize that I was going to need to spend every spare moment working on this hat. But I took my needles and yarn (I had bought the wrong kind on my first attempt) and continued to work at home. It was a necessary part of the costume. Without it, people would be thinking "did that little boy just get back from the gym?" according to Little H.

Four days later, I got an e-mail from my grandma telling me she had made the hat and was almost done. She was letting me know that I could stop for now, and she also mentioned that she would probably start me out on a dishrag instead of a hat. I swear I wasn't slow and physically challenged on purpose to get my grandma to make the hat, but I also wasn't completely surprised that she made it. She's just that kind of person.

Only Thirteen Years To Go

2011-10-30T03:29:10Z

I have a mental countdown going on because I'm pretty sure that as soon as my girl turns eighteen, she'll leave us in the dust. It's not just a hunch, either. She used to tell me all the time that she was going to move out as soon as she was old enough. Some of those times I would silently agree and tell myself that I would gladly pack her bags when the time came. Lately, though, it seems that she is so pleasant and sweet. I don't ever want her to leave me. I'm not sure if her personality is subconsciously becoming more agreeable to counteract her brother, who is becoming a little misfit hellion, or if she is just growing out of her craziness, but it has been so nice.

And the five years has just flown by. It seems like Dan and I were just barely at the hospital staring at this tiny little dependent alien creature. I remember being scared to death and overwhelmed with happiness all at the same time. Anyone who knows me was probably justifiably concerned about what kind of mother I would make. And five years later, judging by the result, I must say, I've raised exactly the kind of kid I would love to have. Either that, or God knew just the right kind person to send that would fit in perfectly with our family.

She's smart, beautiful, sarcastic and sweet. She's a great big sister/second mother to Buster. Despite my best efforts to the contrary, she loves princesses and wants to be a cheerleader. As a concession, she's told me that although she doesn't want to play soccer, she will cheer at the soccer games. She still likes to cuddle sometimes. She's super-creative can keep herself occupied for hours with just some crayons, paper, and scissors. I could just kiss her face off every time I see her. In spite of her feminine characteristics, she loves to wrestle and tells just about everyone that she knows karate. Oh, I love that girl. More and more every day. My only dilemma is that I'm not sure how much longer I'll still be able to call her Little H.

Let the Memories Begin

2011-10-02T21:57:02Z

Dan and I have been talking about going to Disneyland for a little while now. The kids have developed an unhealthy fascination with the over-commercialized cartoon characters - with Little H's love of the princesses (despite my best efforts to push her in the opposite direction), and Buster knowing all the names of Mickey and his friends and preferring the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse song to any traditional lullaby at bedtime. So really, what better way to exhibit excellent parenting skills than to feed their obsessions, right? And on a more selfish note, I've never been before, either.

Dan had a conference in Las Vegas at the beginning of the week, so the kids and I tagged along. It made the perfect cover in surprising the kids with a trip to the Magic Kingdom. It really is quite the place. Each day seemed like a whirlwind, and each night we all passed out in our filthy clothes, too tired to move. (Sleeping in our clothes actually worked in our favor, since the hotel turned out to be lacking a laundry room.)

On the first day, we accidentally put Little H on a roller coaster. How were we supposed to know that Thunder Mountain might be a little scary? It looked like a train ride, and she met the height requirements, plus Dan went with her. It kind of set the tone for the rest of the trip as far as what rides she was willing to go on. Not too high, and not to fast... It seemed that meeting the characters was her favorite part, anyway.

There was so much to do there. I don't think it can be covered in three days. Plus it was super-crowded on Friday and Saturday. At one point, when I was holding Little H's hand in a huge crowd of people, I looked down to see her wiping her face on my shirt. I said, "Gross, are you wiping your nose on my shirt?" She motioned me closer to her and seriously whispered, "I'm not wiping my nose. It's just that my face accidentally ran into that lady's butt." I'm so glad I don't have to worry about that. What an unfortunate height.

As an added bonus, we got to spend some time with the kids' California cousins and Washington grandparents, and I think they enjoyed that even more than Disneyland. On Saturday morning, John and Kelsi took us out to Balboa where we bought overpriced taffy made in SLC and found the home of the 'original' Frozen Banana. Arrested Development doesn't do the area justice. It was a very nice place.

Overall, my favorite part of Disneyland was dinner in Goofy's kitchen. Little H got to meet a couple princesses, Buster fell in love with Pluto, and Dan and I got to sit down. The trip was great, and we hope to go again sometime, like when we won't need to bring a stroller and the kids are tall enough to go on the bigger rides. That will probably give us just enough time to recover.