How to Keep a Usually Restless 4 year-old Entertained for Two Whole Hours

Two.

Claire is two. And although she is cuddly and adorable, I hate the getting older. Birthdays should be mourned. Another year gone! I get all soggy inside just thinking about it.

But even if I do lament a year that takes her closer to independence, I only do it because I love being around her. And so I take the chance to remember Claire at two:

1. My children are not early talkers. I might even call them late. But at 22 months, Claire's little speech alarm in her brain informed her that it was time to talk, and her vocabulary exploded. Suddenly she can say half of anything. She generally cuts off the first several sounds. Or the last several sounds. Or she changes them. And she mostly avoids consonants. Where Grace added them, Claire deletes them. Thank you becomes "Tah oo," Signing Time becomes "i ee ime," Daddy becomes "Da eee," Grace becomes "Athe." Which brings me to another point.
2. She has a darling lisp.
3. She is a tease. She pretends to sleep so she can wake up and laugh when she sees she has successfully startled you.
4. Her hair is strawberry blond, feathery and soft, and she will sit still while I (or "Gama Bet-thee") comb it into pigtails or descending ponytails.
5. She is a self-entertainer. She enjoys a variety of self-motivated activities. Like shoveling spoonfuls from the sugar bin into her mouth. Or coating the hardwood floor in a nice thick layer of Head and Shoulders. Or brushing the carpet with half a tube of toothpaste. She has no trouble staying busy.
6. She loves her daddy. And misses him since he's been gone. Every night we gather each other for family prayer, and every night just as I'm beginning, she shakes my shoulder and forcefully cries, "Daddy! Daddy prayer!" as if we forgot to get him.
7. She loves counting. She counts to three alone. When led by a grown-up, her counting goes like this: "[Claire, say, one], un, [two], doo, [three], thee, [four], foa, [five], bithe, [six], nine, [seven], nine, [eight], nine, [nine], nine... You could say she has a favorite number.

Two came so fast. I hope this next year is longer.

BYU Crushes Sooners (take that, BCS!)

I dread BYU away games. I went to the TCU game last year, and I actually had to start listening to my iPod during the game because I was so stressed out.

So, tonight, as we headed to the new Cowboys stadium to watch the game, I counted on losing pretty horribly. And once I got into the stadium, I realized that we would lose and I would also be deaf afterwards. The stadium was FULL of OU fans. And we were surrounded by them. And they were very loud. And the stadium is enclosed.

But I must say that I turned the tables when BYU started pulling through. Single-handedly, I might add. I was hollering like a banshee. Brad and Reo (a friend of ours) sat, clapped, and looked at me like I was a lunatic.

And I guess I am. I was so excited to be at a winning away game, and screamed enough to prove it.

I have to also say that the OU fans, although heavy drinkers, are also a friendly crowd. We passed at least 5 OU fans on our way out who shook or hands or high-fived us or congratulated us and said, "Good job, you deserve it."

What a great game.

What's Really Going On

My sister-in-law (who I would link to, but her blog is private) has this cute side-bar on her blog titled "Top 5 New Things Going on With Us." I love it. Because that's really why I visit blogs. I want to know what's going on. 

That is also why I hate Facebook. It tells me nothing about anyone's life. All it does is show me that my friends have a lot of other friends. Ones that I don't seem to know. This fact is especially apparent on my Friends' birthdays when all the people they've ever "friended" visit their wall and type, simply, "Happy Birthday!"

I want to type, "Happy Birthday, and who are all these other strange people typing on your wall? How come I don't know them? Does that mean that there's other stuff going on in your life that I don't know about now? And if so, what exactly is the stuff going on that I don't know about?" 

I would probably get defriended.

So I just don't visit Facebook. I blog watch. 

Which, actually, now... sounds kind of... creepy... I'd rather keep --in touch-- with old friends by silently visiting their blogs than actually communicating with them. 

Okay. Well. Anyway, if you're weird like me and just want a quick overview of your friends' lives without having to ask, here are the top five things going on with us:

1. Brad has started school in Lubbock. I am still working in Dallas. He makes me laugh hysterically on the weekends when he comes home, and I cry every time he leaves. It's ridiculous and unsustainable. I don't know how army wives do it.

2. Claire just turned 2 on Monday. We told her "Happy Birthday," and then she started singing herself the Birthday song in her adorable lispy voice. But we didn't have cake or presents. Not yet. We just can't party without Daddy. We're celebrating on Sunday instead.

3. Grace started preschool today. Four days after the official first day. She couldn't go on the first day because she hadn't been to a doctor in over a year, and was missing five immunizations. Count them. FIVE. She got them all at once and didn't even whimper. I, however, was pretty much a wreck because what kind of mother forgets to take their kid to the doctor so they can make it to the first day of school? A bad one, that's what kind.

4. After a whole three weeks of attempting to be really good and healthy, I started eating ice cream again. A lot of it. It happened when Brad went to Lubbock. You could call me an emotional eater.

5. My mother is Superwoman. Not exactly news. But she has outdone herself lately. She prepares the house for several guests, unpacks boxes from storage, attends stake Relief Society meetings, chauffeurs children, maintains a Saint's portion of patience with my obstinate daughters, makes gourmet dinners, cleans up piles of sugar (and puddles of shampoo) that Claire has dumped (or smeared) over her hardwood floors, and sits down at the end of the day to crochet dishcloths. That's all in a single day, people. 

Five things. Short and sweet. What are your top five things?

My longest post ever. In inches.

I warned you in advance.

We have been busy. And not because I'm working (although I am, very hard) or because I'm pregnant (which I am not, sadly), but because we have Finally. Finished. Our house.

I'm out of breath just thinking about it.

It's been a project two years in the making. And to be honest, it's not completely finished. I mean, most of the doors have to be painted, and we have doorknobs to install, but for my own mental health, I shall say, the work is done.

It started in 2007.

Before we even moved in to the house in Carlsbad, Brad and his mom and his dad scraped our popcorn ceilings, and painted the disgusting fireplace, and painted the bedrooms... which made things not so scary when I finally saw it.

I was six months pregnant with Claire. And I was nesting. Hard core. I have pictures to prove it. Lots of them. You get to see them. This is where you cheer.


I really wanted to paint that house soon. Like, the next week. Brad told me that I needed to start sanding down parts of the walls where the texture was too thick.


So, I did.

And I found wet spots.

That turned out to be mold.

In the laundry room.

Under the bathroom sink.
In both showers.
[This is from the hall bathroom looking through the wall into the master bathroom.]


Ew.

We replaced studs. Drywall. We green-boarded/hardi-backed/redguarded EVERYTHING in those bathrooms. It could rain in there. Everyday. It would be safe.


So we didn't get to paint that week.

Then we ripped out the utility carpet (this nasty brown, thin, yucky stuff) in the hallway. It was in the whole house. But we started with the hallway. And then we tore up three layers of linoleum tile in the kitchen. It required a machine. (Believe me. I am a cheapskate. I tried REALLY hard to rip that stuff off by hand.)

See? That's Brad. He's practically horizontal.

And then my special, ultra-fun job was to use a cat's paw to tear out all the baseboard and carpet tacks in that HUGE area to prep the house for tile.


And then we tiled the hallway, bathrooms, and kitchen.
[I did that whole big long row all by myself. My very big pregnant self.]


And then Brad installed awesome shelves in our closets. Because we didn't have dressers and we were still living out of suitcases.


And then, the week before Claire was blessed, the Nevilles helped us rip out nasty utility carpet in the living room/dining room, and we tiled in there.


And then conference weekend, Brad poured the slab between our house and the garage to begin our addition for an entryway/study nook.


And then Brad framed, and stuccoed, and roofed (mostly with his dad, although my dad, and my brothers helped on the roof), and he electrified the addition, and drywalled, and mudded, and...


...then we decided to move.


So we worked like crazy people and with my brother Jay's help we: installed new windows, mudded some more, textured, installed lighting fixtures, installed base, puttied the nail holes in the base (my job), taped every cranny for painting prep (again, my fun, exclusive responsibility) painted (finally) the walls three different colors (midnight blue, pea green, and periwinkle--all Brad's choices) before I finally went to the paint store with him and we settled on a lovely beige (which he thinks is too pink, but it's better than purple).


And then we moved to Dallas and friends rented our house.


And then they moved out, and we painted the base and we installed some six panel doors, and we ripped out all the rest of the nasty utility carpet in the bedrooms and installed beautiful carpet, and put in new front and back doors, and painted the outside of the house (the orange color was all Brad), and landscaped, and installed exterior light fixtures, and ALMOST put in the closet doors. We'll do that next time.


Whew.


And now our friends will move back in. Because they decided to move back to Carlsbad. And we decided not to sell our house. Because who can just sell something that has asked for so much sweat and blood?


Below are some before and after pics for your viewing pleasure. (You're going to have to click on each picture to get the full effect. And in some cases, to see the "after.")

Fireplace, Dining Room/Living Room:

Kitchen, from Dining Area:

Living/Dining Area, Hallway, Kitchen:
Original Entry, New entry, garage door, study nook:
Hall Bathroom:


Master Bed and Bath:
Bedroom #2 (Bedroom #3 is similar... pretend I put in a picture)
Laundry area/Back door:
Congratulations to us! Right?

We do not watch TLC. Promise.

I got a call last weekend while I was with Brad in Carlsbad painting the trim in our house. [About that house: it's old, not new, we've owned it two years, lived in it for one, we're selling it, and I'm sad about it. Hmph.]

It was my little sister Karlee. She started, "Elise, you'll never guess what Grace and Claire were playing a minute ago."

It's true. I never would have guessed.

I'll spare you the details.

It involved a blanket, a baby doll, and Grace coaching, "Okay, Claire! Give birth! Give birth!"

I. am. in. trouble.

Caretaker

I didn't have any pets growing up. Although we went through occasional bouts of begging, my parents never seriously considered getting us even a fish. (No use even thinking about a dog.) We were taught to appreciate wildlife from a distance--specifically from behind the fence at the zoo. 

Not Brad.

So when my parents accidentally acquired an albino lizard, Brad was designated its temporary caretaker. (I don't know how you accidentally acquire an exotic reptile. Leave it to my parents.) 

At the time, it lived in this.

This was apparently unsuitable.

So Brad produced a temporary terrarium from a giant Rubbermaid bin, tile, rocks, bricks, and a pseudo-heat lamp.

He bought--and caught--live grasshoppers for the lizard's eating pleasure.

He even took it on walks. 

(Okay. They weren't strictly walks. Brad just set the lizard out in the grass and let him run around. But the mental image of Brad walking a leashed lizard is so much more amusing.)

I am thinking about this now because Brad is gone, taking care of our house. 

And I am feeling like a sunshine-less, grasshopper-less lizard. I am missing him taking care of me.