Chris and Sarahs Blog

Parker

2012-02-15T11:39:00.000-08:00

Parker is so fun. Seriously. The kid is exhausting, but he is constantly saying and doing the most ridiculously laughable things. For example:

someone 'heart attacked' us for Valentine's day so there were dozens of hearts tapped to BBQ sticks, stuck in our lawn. Chris and I were just enjoying the view when Parker wiggled through our legs and exclaimed "Zelda's Hearts!" He and soon Lyra gleefully began gathering the hearts, just like Link did in the Zelda game. It's a connection I never would have made, but now that he mentioned it, yeah, that is what it looked like. Now I get what Link was doing!

Parker is also insanely persistent. I do not give in to Parker, especially when he cries or whines so now he just diligently follows me through the house 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please' 'cookie please.' If I chance to sit down he then climbs up in my lap, holds my face between his little toddler hands and with his nose touching mine he asks a little higher and quieter, 'cookie please?' 'cookie please?'. And I don't give in, because I reward the annoying last half hour of cookie please. Plus, he gets naughty when he's had more sugar, but man, the kid is persistent. He will have stopped, I will have sighed with relief and an hour later he will be asking again 'cookie please?' Entire days can go like this. No, seriously. Entire days.

Parker can be a scoundrel. Trust me on this one. I blame Chris.

Parker has an exceptionally sweet side. Lyra is occasionally put in a time out for grabbing something from Parker and then refusing to give it back or say sorry. When Lyra's time out is done, Parker will invariably bring the item to Lyra the moment she is done with time out and insist that she can have it. Parker will also, without warning or solicitation walk up to you and give you a big hug. When Grandma Phipps was here, he crawled up on her lap, gave the unsuspecting woman a huge hug, then crawled down off her lap and on to mine, gave me a great big hug and from my lap he toddled over to Chris and gave him one too. None of us had said a word about hugs. Also, today Chris had given us all a kiss goodbye as he headed off to work Chris was climbing into the car and as Parker was watching he started demanding another kiss. Chris was in a hurry so I didn't call him back, but it took some smoothing over before he settled for the one kiss he got.

Parker is smart. It would be exceptionally long winded to explain the dozens of occasions where Parker took something that we had said about one thing, and made a very clever connection to another. One more simple one was when we told Lyra that we could not go see the Christmas lights right then. Parker then turned to her and explained that it was because it was not dark. You can only see them when it is dark. Yes, kinda' obvious, but unbelievably reasonable and insightful when coming out of the mouth of a toddler. unfortunately that day, we still did not go see the lights, even when it got dark. Sorry kids.

Lyra

2012-02-07T12:08:00.000-08:00

Lyra loves to tease. She loves it. She lights up and squeals with uncontrollable delight when she threatens to eat the food, or 'airplane' I mock tell her not to eat. Then she giggles and laughs when I cry out in dismay when she does, in fact, eat the helpless airplane skewered at the end of her fork. Or I snatched a pirate hat from her head, declaring 'my pirate hat!' and she again started dancing with delight giggling and laughing, then sneaked up on me and snatched it off my head like she was getting away with the most clever, naughty of tricks. It is particularly adorable when taking into consideration that Lyra is the ideal of a well behaved child.

She is incredibly anxious to serve. I love that in her. It is so beautiful to see it in a toddler, too. She will ask for a treat but will not leave until she has secured one for herself and Parker. Then she will track Parker down and follow him saying 'here pookah, here pookah, here pookah' until he takes it or says no thank you (if he simply says no, she gets upset. He has to accept it or say no thank you. go figure). When I announce we are going in the car she puts her shoes, grabs Parker's shoes and chases him down to give them to him. She will then go get mine, often a pair of heels to go with my trendy T-shirt, and then Daddy's if he is home. One night there were papers strewn across the floor and Lyra started to gather them up. I asked her what she was doing and she said 'putting in na' trash, mommy.' And she was. She picked up every last stray piece of paper and put it in the garbage without my even mentioning that it was a mess.

Lyra is very smart, too. She is exceptionally good at finding unsuspected solutions to her problems. For example, the other day I told Parker that he needed to eat his cracker in his kitchen. Parker stuffed the rest of the cracker in his mouth and the problem was solved. Lyra, seeing this and who didn't want to finish her whole cracker yet, but wanted to play outside the kitchen, took the bite she wanted and held the rest of her sizable cracker in her lips and then began to run about. Nope, can't just hold it with a different part, Lyra. Clever, but the thing still crumbs from there.

Lyra can find a friend anywhere. We go to small playgrounds full of perfectly strange children, but in seconds some other sweet girl of equal or older age will be holding her hand and walking her around the playground. Without fail. Once she fell and gave a bit of a whimper before a little boy, not much older than herself, had come over to pat her and ask if she was ok. The poor little kid was about to get in trouble because the mom only looked over and her little boy was standing over a tearing little girl. I explained and the mother was very impressed with the little guy. So was I. But it amused me to see that, given there was no little girl to buddy up with Lyra, some sweet little boy was ready to do it.

Oregon 2011

2012-01-16T13:07:00.000-08:00

I recently finished this clip and thought the Heatons would enjoy some of it... so here you go, Heatons.

'Holy Cow are you kidding me?!'

2012-01-11T11:33:00.000-08:00

'Holy cow, are you kidding me?!' Parker cried as he gave Chris a five. Chris and I both laughed. It was Lyra's turn; 'holy cow! kidin' me?!' Lyra yelled excitedly as Chris fell backwards with Lyra's mock strength. Parker had made another game of something he had heard us say. I think Chris cried out 'holy cow, are you kidding me?!' when a package arrived once and it has stuck with Parker since. Eventually he decided that it was an integral part of Chris's high five game and it made Chris and I laugh. We played along and Lyra has followed suit with 'holy cows' in her turn.

Lyra and Parker are really watching us now. I'll say something and Lyra will walk away repeating it to whatever toy is in her hand at the time. She doesn't say much unless encouraged. I have begun to insist that she say important phrases like 'put her head on' when Poly pocket needs her head put back on, but in general, she still mostly just sings to herself about trees and things. Maybe she really is a fairy. But I think it is primarily because Parker says everything for her.

The other day we were walking down the stairs when Parker paused thoughtfully, slowly turned to me and said 'mumydebest.'

'Huh?' I asked,

'mommy's dabest!' pointing emphatically at me.

I should have seen that one coming. I quickly corrected him, saying 'no, daddy's the best'

'mommy's the best!'

'daddy's the best!'

Parker started really giggling now 'no, Mommy best!'

Daddy was working from home that day and heard the debate and soon it was in Daddy's room; 'Parker's the best!'

'No, daddy's the best!'

'no! mommy's the best!'

'no, Daddy's the best.'

Around and around we went. Parker was picking up on the many, many ridiculous conversations Chris and I have almost constantly. You see, we all know Chris is the best, and yet he still insists that it is me, silly man. I am forever going to stand for the truth, so I must correct him over and over and over again. You think by now he would have given up. It is still surprising and funny to hear Parker pull it up out of nowhere. The debate is getting more complicated now, though, because Lyra and Parker, being offspring of Chris, are also the best. So now Lyra and Parker will point to a member of the family, yell that they are the best, and a storm of wild pointing and 'best's will fly.

Christmas

2012-01-08T11:59:00.000-08:00

Christmas was awesome. It took me this long to write about it because I have been so busy basking in the memory of it, that I haven't stopped to write about it.

At the start of December Chris and I reviewed some of the things that we think are worth making into traditions. One that we have had since the first year we were married was the chocolate covered apples that we make. We are actually getting really good at them. Chris has carefully tested every apple type and found the one most optimal for chocolate dipping - ask him, I don't know what they were - and we let the babies in on the magic this year. The best was watching them deliver the apples to our neighbors and friends. Parker shouted 'marry kissmass!' at everyone as they opened the door, and Lyra said something like 'mass mass!!!!!!' dancing with delight as the lucky recipient took the apple from her. They must have liked it lot because during our big Christmas dinner, Lyra gave Parker a cupcake (she asks for two of everything now, one for her and one for Parker - and it really is for Parker) and, cupcake in hand, he ran up to some 6'5" guy we had invited, stood at his feet, peering up with his beautiful heavily lashed eyes and said 'marry kissmass!,' offering the precious cupcake. It was so sweet.

Oh, yeah, we had a banquet at our house for Christmas. I am resolved to do it next year, too! We had 20 people over, more if you count really small children. I think it was four families that we had found that we didn't know super well, but wanted too and were just in town alone this year. Anyway, it made for a house full of laughter and fun. We did games with the kids and then Chris introduced some really fun games for the adults while I took the kids and made huge towers out of cups. I don't know what game Chris had them playing, but they were laughing and having fun... and one person was throwing a pillow at people? They were laughing and having a good time, but they missed out... you should have seen some of those towers go down! We were sad when it was bedtime for everyone, but as we packed people out the door, the smiles and laughing eyes were the best good night I could imagine. Wow, that was cheezy, but really, many of these people were good polite people that had always struck me as so sober. Of course, I suppose that was what people probably thought of me until our new years eve party.

I can't remember why, but I hadn't really had much sleep the last few nights, and we were determined to stay up till midnight. So us and two other families put our kids to bed upstairs and we started to play games. We played and played and played and finally, I think we had all been at that table long enough that we really just let go. There was a lot of good laughing that night, too. Also, I think that my block alone easily spent a cumulative $1,000 on fireworks. And the blocks surrounding us probably did more. All these Texans with pent up firework lust. They may have been forbidden to do them fourth of July, but they made up for lost time. At 12am,the sky was lit on fire from every angle. We just stood in the back yard watching them go up. Apparently Parker was watching from his window because I was hearing about the fireworks for days after that.

How often does it happen...

2011-12-16T11:35:00.000-08:00

Hey, how often does it happen that the senior editor at The Atlantic corrects himself on his blog because you had intelligently thrashed some graph he put up? Not often, I would guess. Or at least it doesn't happen all that often to me. Apparently, though, it happens to Chris. Derek Thompson, the senior editor guy, corrected his graph (which made a HUGE change) and then explained the difference by complementarily quoting Chris. I thought it was extremely cool.
See article here

We made gingerbread houses with the Blacks. It was awesome. There is a cop car in the front. In the back where you can't see, Grandma's car has the severed body of Santa underneath it. Grandma ran over Santa this year. Oh, and Parker is off playing with trains. Lyra actually helped put on most of the red hots there on the front.

Also, my kids were being cute and, while it was a time ago, I thought I would throw it in for the many baby hungry uncles and aunts. Yeah, I'm on to you. You are just all sending my kids Christmas presents because you simply wanted an excuse to dip your toe into little kid world. And because I am on to your selfish gift-giving I am still only going to send you a miserably narcissistic Christmas card and DVD of my kids. That will sure teach you to be baby hungry. (ok, no, really, you guys have all been so sweet. Thank you for remembering and finding time to tenderly select, wrap and mail a gift to my kids. They are rapt with excitement.)

Nov. 29, 2011

Lyra Parker

Lyra: cough cough*

-Parker, with the adorable awkwardness of a toddler, gently patting Lyra on the back

Parker: 'are you ok?'

Lyra: ok

Parjer: cough cough cough*

Lyra:you ok, Parker ok?

Parker: yeah, I'm ok

-note, we still have runny noses and coughs... will the river of boogers never cease to flow?..

Nov. 30 2011

Parker is constantly marching around the house chanting 'one two three four' over and over. Occasionally he will count to five again and again with each footstep, occasionally it is ten. What is consistent is that those legs are extended fully and as high as he can get them while he counts around the house 'one two three four one two three four' it is his interpretation of the elephant march song in Disney's Jungle book

December 11, 2011

Lyra and Parker were happily playing together on a box and an ottoman. Parker had earlier raided the pantry and retrieved a granola bar, which he was still gnawing on. I had long left them to play (forgetting that he had the granola bar) and as I was doing dishes heard from the other room, "here, lyma." in a sweet, brisk voice then Lyra's "gegu"(thank you, Lyra style, the 'th' sound is still hard on her'. Then, a few minutes later I heard Lyra, "here, pookah" and Parker's "oh, gagu," again, all business. The exchange continued with a few minutes of time between each "here, lyma," "here pookah" back and forth back and forth for a good half hour. Finally I peaked in and sure enough, they had been sharing that granola bar, back and forth back and forth till there was nothing but a little slimy nub sitting in the bottom of the wrapper I had left around the bottom. Sweet little kids had been passing it back and forth that whole time.

Oh, and as long as I am dumping everything under the sun in this post, Remember that goose that chased Parker forever ago at that park? We went back on a beautiful fall day, Parker, of course, wanted to go see the 'ducks' and when they didn't walk away, he was confused, but happy. He got closer and some stupid goose waddled up to him and pecked at Parker's shirt just once before I had it by the neck and was throwing it away from him. Parker was confused, I think the stupid goose will be bruised and I was simply unamused (yeah, I am so rhyme-y and cool). It was funny, though, how I had confused Parker cradled safely in my arms before I realized how I had actually just brutalized some dumb goose.

2011-12-05T13:59:00.001-08:00

This is my husband. With the family that loves and adores him. Chris, you are my hero. You are generous, thoughtful, and patient. You work so hard to be conscientious of the people who depend on you. I love that you seek out ways to make those around you feel loved, noticed and appreciated. I know our friends feel the same way. Thank you for being a leader in our community. I'm often told of inspiring and kind things you have said and done with other people that you didn't even think to mention to me. I know you are very respected among the people who work with you most. You are so handsome. You are everything to me. Thank you. I love you.

Thanksgiving and Family pictures

2011-11-29T14:05:00.000-08:00

Chris and I have made something of a tradition to relive bits of our first week we met for thanks giving. I suppose it was chance that Thanks giving would become our most celebrated holliday (yes, it outshines Christmas here) seeing as it was the week we met. We have fudge one day, since our first date Chris came over to my place and choked down the fudge that I loved and he HATED. Another night we go bowling where I absolutely embarrassed myself and still do every time we go. And then later in the week one of my siblings graciously watches my kids as Chris and I hop over to the temple to enjoy the place and moment when he really proposed to me. It is sweet and tender. This year when we got there he hugged me tight in the rippling reflected light of a water fountain and tenderly, sincerely thanked me for another wonderful year. Yeah, I choked up like a little school girl and then said something dumb and unmemorable, but equally loving and sincere.

Later that evening we were running through the things that we would most want our kids to appreciate and respect in any given relative were we not here to teach them ourselves. A morbid topic, I suppose, but it was interesting to see what came up. The ones that come most readily to mind was the ability to work tirelessly from Uncle Steve; another one was Jessica's ability to lightly lead in a way that made you want to pleasantly follow (Chris's unprompted words, Jessica. ). It was an interesting conversation. Apparently we are surrounded by absolutely remarkable people. We are so thankful for you. Thank you for being part of our lives.

So, we have some thanksgiving pictures, but only Barbara was cool enough to take them. So they are somewhere floating above Baltimore about now. hopefully they will land safely in the UK, drive a few hours to Rugby and find their way into an unburned computer where they will be sent to me presently. Until then, please enjoy some of the new family pictures.

Parker stories

2011-11-08T13:28:00.000-08:00

I feel like I did a quick blog with a bunch of Lyra all over it, so I thought I would do the same for Parker. Unfortunately he is not as camera friendly as Lyra, so I will do a bunch of stories.

I took the kids to a small park and they were having a jolly time. At one point Lyra was at the top of a slide and Parker tottered over to the base. Holding out his arms he called 'catch you!' to Lyra. Lyra with full confidence in her tiny brother took off down the slide into his waiting arms. She skidded to a halt three inches from the end of the slide and Parker, still with arms outstreached, waited for a moment, then patted his sister on the head, took her hand and helped her off the edge of the slide. Parker loves his sister.

We had Chris's boss, Veronica, over for dinner the other night. We had settled down to eat and Chris gave me a look that said 'uh, let's not do a prayer in front of the boss.' So we all dug in. All of us except, that is, Parker. He looked from one eating adult to the next, so confused. He looked at me with his little toddler arms folded ignoring our prompts to eat. We prompted him again 'eat, little man.' But he just sat there, waiting for the prayer. Finally I turned to Veronica, just a little embarrassed, 'Veronica, I am so sorry, do you mind if we say a prayer. I don't think Parker will eat unless we do.' She was embarrassed that she had begun to eat already, even though we all had. Oddly enough the confusion broke the ice very well and, after the prayer, we then went on to have a very comfortable conversation. Parker took two bites and toddled off to play. I think he was just there to remind us all how to behave. I should have insisted on a prayer from the start. Thank you Parker for being such a good example.

Barbara's visit

2011-11-04T11:34:00.000-07:00

We had the chance to snag Barbara during a layover she had in Houston. We were so deeply grateful that we got to see her.

While she was here we took some video of her with the kids, Just to make Mal jealous. (don't worry, Mal, you will get to see your little girlfriend soon.)

Oh no! it won't upload! NOOOOO!

Well, a silly story will have to suffice. Sorry Barbara, that would have been funny.

11/4/2011 - Parker just got out of time out and Lyra quickly toddled over to where he had been sitting, I told her that she was ok, that she need not sit in time out. She looked at me, blinked, walked over to me, looked me in the eyes, and gave me two tentative hits on the shoulder. I guess she just didn't want to be left out of the action? I am doing something wrong here.

2011-10-26T13:21:00.000-07:00

I have been writing down at random some of the cute things the kids do while playing. I thought I would just share them here.

Parker always calls his food something: a car, a truck, an alligator, an elephant, a train, a hippopotamus and then always apologizes to it by name when we cut it or eat it.

Parker 'feeding' lyra imaginary food from the pictures in books

I was frustrated with adobe and said 'ugh! it's s broken!' Lyra and Parker in chorus started chanting 'try again, try again!' Like I do when they can't do something the first time.

Lyra asking to hold hands - mine were full, didn't think much of it till Lyra and parker got to the bottom, holding hands, lyra saying proudly 'Parker hand!'

Lyra asking parker to hold hands after seeing mom and dad do it, then walking our Sunday walk, hand in hand as a family.

walking through the store - two babies in the cart, one holding a pregnancy test, sitting on a small bag of whole wheet flour the other in a filthy shirt (chocolate, curry, dirt - it was all there) with a band aid across his forehead. mom running the cart up and down the isle both babies waving their arms in excitement, Chris calling out the best ice cream options as I swished by. My guess is that it looked like we had enough sugar in our systems.

Lyra asking parker to hold hands after seeing mom and dad do it, then walking our Sunday walk, hand in hand as a family.

Lyra picking up frogs and saying 'there you go' in her sweet little voice to save them from the hot sunny road

Parker picking a frog out of the grass and holding it for lyra to see - it classically jumping out of his hands

Lyra making nativity scene characters laugh, cry and play with each other

lyra and parker sitting in a corner as Lyra gave parker raisins and parker said 'thank you' - lyra fed parker almost an entire bag of her raisins like that

The two sitting side by side under the playground slide, covering their legs in bark chips and saying 'ooooo' as the chips fell on their legs

Parker getting excited about the elephant marching song and marching - knees high - the entire song

Every morning, without fail, we sit in the doorway and wave goodby to daddy until we can't see his car anymore. Lyra and Parker sit there blowing kisses and waving. We love our daddy.

We went door bell ditching with our kids in tow. They probably heard Parker's squeaky shoes as we tottered away.

Following Lyra and Parker for 15 min.

2011-10-18T10:49:00.000-07:00

A while back I just started following Lyra and Parker for 15 min, leaving the camera on. These guys get a lot done in 15 min.

Lyra and Parker

2011-10-14T14:23:00.000-07:00

Finally getting back on the video boat. Here is just a bit from about four months ago:

Lyra and Parker have named it 'LyraParkerSilly'

Lyra is the 99 Percent

2011-10-06T16:14:00.000-07:00

In spirit of the 99 percent, we present Lyra:

Children Youtube

2011-09-28T10:51:00.000-07:00

Aunt Barbara sent us a package yesterday. It was a very big deal. I wasn't there when they actually opened it, but the sound-effects book was in Parker's gleeful death grip all the way till bed time. We only tore it out of his hands when Chris explained that the book had to go to bed, too. Apparently somewhere else than in Parker's bed.

He actually looks really sober in these pictures. But then, it is a 'scary book' so I guess that is appropriate. How do I know it is a scary book? Parker told me. He knew all about it.

And here are some pictures for Laura. She has been demanding them. Apparently her dreams need more material to work with.

Lyra and Parker like to watch a few nursery songs and such on youtube. It is actually really funny to see what they like and what they don't.

This, for example terrifies Lyra. Especially the lion.

This, makes parker run for me, palms sweating. He just hates the elephant part.

They both, however, love this one:

Photo dump

2011-09-19T12:39:00.000-07:00

The Photo dump thing seems to be working really well for Jessica, so I thought I would do the same till... uhm, later.

We had these beautiful sunflowers all along the fence almost the whole summer. Chris would go by to see if the seeds were quite ready and Parker would follow behind doing the very same. I couldn't quite catch them both on camera doing it at the same time, but I got close.

Some of those flowers got over 11'.

The garden pictures are actually, kinda old. About halfway through the drought here, we tired of paying high water bills and I got too sick to weed and now, well, our garden is not green or even distinguishable from wild burned weeds. But we got rain today, and we are excavating the flower beds square foot by square foot.

And then below is just a beautiful day playing on the back porch.

Lyra is going to hate me for this one someday. But hey, she is clothed, she has on her right sock. No nudey baby pictures here.

I guess this is the outfit she didn't want to get wet.

Yeah, it looks like a dumb picture, but count how many crackers he has in his hands and then realize that he is holding three more in his mouth with his arm. A very different approach than Lyra has. She tends to take a bite out of each and then ask for more. We don't give them to her till the others are all the way gone, but that doesn't stop her from asking.

We were trying to get a good picture to mail to Great Grandma Phipps in these ones. She made her own poses and Shirley Temple would have a hard time competing with this face.

'Eid Mubarak'

2011-08-30T12:00:00.001-07:00

Today Chris wished me a happy 'Eid Mubarak' and apparently that is the end of a whole month of fasting (just during the day - no food or drink). I think that would be impressive anywhere, but here... I don't know if you have been watching the news, but this place is scorching hot. The trees allong the freeway have been dying. I have seen water trucks watering just the forest outside housing developments. I think that they didn't want it to die, loose the shade and create a fire hazard. There are always crews and piles of dead brush when you drive around. The trees are dying and this woman managed not to drink water during the day for the last month. That is dedication.

Why can't all celebrations be like 'national cuddle up day'? January 6, it's real. Now THAT is a holiday.

Hot Dogs, Cantaloupe and ginger ail

2011-08-09T11:53:00.000-07:00

Chris walked in the door, bag of groceries in hand. It wasn't customary that he run to the store after work, in fact I almost never asked him to do it. The kids started yelling 'Daddy! Daddy!' Lyra was pumping her arms in the air with excitement, Parker had grabbed some random object to importantly show his daddy. Chris Quickly pecked me on the lips, handed over the bag and caught the two toddler torpedoes speeding to his legs.

I took the bag in the kitchen as daddy began tossing one kid after another in the air. Slowly emptying the contents, I took grateful note. He had gotten everything, that saintful man. I quickly threw the Hot dogs in the waiting oven and hacked into the cantaloupe with abandon. somehow between hacking into and eating the cantaloupe I managed to get a glass and fill it with ginger ale. I didn't think I would throw up these much craved items, but I was taking no chances. Thank you daddy.

I had read up on the cantaloupe and apparently pregnant women tend to crave it because it is good for rapid cell division in the first trimester? Lots of folate and blah blah blah? I also looked up hot dogs... I guess they are not the choice food for baby making, but I figure if my body got the cantaloupe right, how far off could it be on this one?

Yes folks, pregnant. It was an unexpected blessing. The worst we had to do this time was psychosis inducing clomid. We had already begun the long and painful process of convincing our insurance company that I could not get pregnant and thank heavens we did not have to finish the list! You would not believe what is on it these days. So instead of having radioactive juice pumped through my ovary tubes, I am at home, falling asleep mid 'go dog go.'

It is sweet watching Lyra and Parker try to figure out this new mommy. I am not far along at all, but the exhaustion sets in fast and if I sit down anytime before 12 I fall asleep. It is beyond my control. I have learned to stay on my feet or stay upstairs. Luckly, the kids tend to play close to where I am. This morning I sat to read a book and I doze off half way through the first page. It wasn't a problem for them, apparently. I woke to Parker tripping over my legs, then again for no reason to find a sticker was tenderly stuck to my hand, then again to find the sticker gone, Parker sitting in the toy box playing some game contentedly and Lyra snuggled close flipping through a book. Again, to Parker saying 'hugs? Hugs?' and crawling onto my chest for a minute to then be distracted by a car he just saw.

After a while I managed to peel myself off the floor when I realized it was probably snack time already. I gave them apple juice and leftover banana bread as I tried to drink some milk (and barfed it into the sink). They finished the snack and I thought to keep myself awake we could play outside. Nothing could sleep in that heat and the kids could splash in the little inflatable pool. It was a plan with promise until I started to spray some water from the hose. I felt it and I still have a slightly red spot on my wrist where it burned me. We let the hose run for a good ten minutes and the best we got was a warm, not burning, water. The kids were looking hot already so I ran into the kitchen, pulled out the ice cube drawer and dumped the whole full thing in the pool. Lyra and Parker sucked on pieces of ice as they watched the rest visibly melt. It was enough, though and the water was a small relief from the oppressive heat. They were playing beautifully and in spite of the heat, I had to fight to stay awake. The pool was soon warm again and we all trudged soggily to the front where we could hear the garbage truck picking up the garbage.

The garbage man is a special treat here at our house. Every Tuesday and Friday they pass by and we are out to greet them. Both my kids are fascinated by the huge powerful truck passing by cleaning up the 'mess' (as Parker so aptly describes it). The men who do the dumping are now our friends, actually. They wave and bring my garbage can all the way up the driveway instead of leaving it down by the road. If Lyra and Parker are slow to come and see them, they ask where the babies are. The babies are always outside before long and we wave and wave while the men finish the cul-de-sac and the truck driver honks his horn. I am sure the neighbors wonder why that truck is always so loud at our houses and not at the others. We love our loud garbage truck guys. Parker won't even come inside until they have turned the corner out of sight. Which today was a little irritating because all the heat was pouring into the house as I held the door waiting for him to come in. ...

I am sorry, this is turning into a blow by blow of my day today. Really the purpose of this post was to say 'I'm pregnant.' So, I'm Pregnant. Now you all know. And my husband is awesome and my kids are angels. Chris and I are thrilled to have another one. So now you know. Wahoo!

Food Storage

2011-07-27T11:11:00.001-07:00

I have a spectacular neighbor who is absolutely marvelous. She is a good mom and neighbor. She found out that Chris and I are 'Mormon' and now frequently asks questions about the church. I am doing my best to try to explain what she is asking about. I am sad that I feel like my explanations are always short of the full message.

Recently she asked about how Mormons are supposed to have a year supply of food on hand and indirectly about the Bishops store house. I said it was true, explained a little about fasting, the bishops store house and then about how the church has a program that uses member volunteer work to make its own food that we can share and use at very little cost. Our local product is Peanut butter, so I told her about our local peanut butter factory. And about the many apple orchards they had in Auburn where I grew up. The conversation moved on to other subjects but I was left wondering if I had done the topic justice.

Really, just our food storage program is a beautiful organization of love and charity. We spend all this time and effort to create a product for our people, but should a hurricane hit or disaster befall an area, we are instructed to liberally share that supply with our neighbors. Really, God wants us to have that supply to keep us, and those around us safe. He also tells us to stay out of debt for the same reasons, to keep our families safe and so that we will have the money, emotional stability, and energy to share and give to those around us. I recently read Henry B. Eyring's talk Oppertunities to do good and there he said: President Marion G. Romney said of welfare work, “You cannot give yourself poor in this work.” And then he quoted his mission president, Melvin J. Ballard, this way: “A person cannot give a crust to the Lord without receiving a loaf in return.” Chris and I were talking about what we might want to spend our surplus money on next year and we had some fun things, some necessary things we wanted to spend on and with what was extra we wanted to set aside for a rainy day fund.

I am really grateful that the church encourages deep saving and that it is such a practical, loving suggestion. It is something that our kids will never really know about, but should something happen it would keep us living without stress and worry. Our kids would not suffer or have to go without. What a blessing. I don't know that it would have occurred to us to have that fund unless the church had suggested it. But it is such an act of love to cushion our lives with protection from disaster of all kinds. I suppose it never would have occurred to me to see it that way until I was explaining some of the doctrinal foundations of food storage and the Bishops warehouse. Basically it is that God loves us, he wants us to be happy, safe, fed and clothed so he is giving us the step-by-step on how to do that. Should we fail, there are still programs he has already arranged to catch us again and to help us learn to do better. If that isn't love...

Rain Drops

2011-07-18T21:37:00.000-07:00

One day I walked out the front door and there was my wonderful husband, splashing in the rain with his kids. At one point Lyra looked up at him with a grin and started marching fast in the puddles, not taking her grinning eyes from her beloved Daddy. What did he do? He grinningly looked at her and marched right back at her in that puddle.

It was at that point that I ran for the camera. Of course, Dad saw that I was recording and bashfully came to flirt with me. I mercifully cut out the rediculous conversation that consisted of a back and forth of

"I love you more WAAAY more than you love me"
"nuh uh, I love you totally more than you love me"
"not uh.." and so on.

There was also a bit where he asked if I had found the keys. Apparently I had, under the blanket that was folded into a partially inflated pool that was under the love sac. Yeah, I have no idea.

Any way, this was the best I could do, but it doesn't do it justice.

Gummies

2011-07-09T18:48:00.001-07:00

I pulled Parker out of bed. He was fussy and moody so I offered him his daily vitamen (the exotic treat of the day). He bounced in my arms with excitement as I pulled the jar from the shelf, giggled with anticipation as I opened the lid. I stuck my fingers in to pull out the two gummies that were his daily ration when 'WAAHHHHH!!!!AAAAAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHHH!!!!!!!!!!'
I had broken him!

The child was inconsolable. I put the gummies back; no, that was not what he wanted. I pulled them out again; no, no, no wrong again! I tried to put them in his hand so that he could see what they were; NO. Wrong flavor? switch the flavors? No no nono no nooooo! What was I doing wrong? I finally got him to hold his gummies in his clenched fist. I then grabbed two for Lyra. Hopefully she would take my wake up offering better than Parker had. I mounted the stairs, Parker in my arms now sweating and still wildly shaking his head in frustration.

"Wheeere's Lyra?' I said, trying to engage and distract the frustrated little boy. "wheeere's Lyyyyra?" We opened the door, Parker now curiously peaking around the corner hoping to catch first glimpse of her. "THERE-E-IS!" He cried triumphantly, temporarily distracted. I put him down and watched him toddle over to Lyra who was still just waking. "Lyra, it's time to get up! Look, here, we have vitamins." She wasn't interested.

I picked her reluctant beautifulness out of the crib and sat with her in the rocking chair like Daddy did. Somehow Dad had made the magic discovery. These kids were 100% happier if they lay on your chest while still waking up. I think it is a remnant of all that tummy time we did with them in the hospital while they were preemies. Whatever it is, Dad had made a morning ritual of it and while Lyra loved it with her Daddy. She tolerated it with me. It still served to smooth over a rocky wakening.

She rested sweetly on my chest as Parker, no longer distracted by Lyra hunting started fretting about his gummies again. I gave Lyra hers and something about the situation absolutely infuriated Parker. He yelled curtly at me looked at the two gummies still clenched in his sweaty palm and pitched them both at the wall.
I had had it with the boy. I had warned him already that his fussing would land him in bed and it just had. He was back to bed where he could fuss and whine all he wanted. I turned my back on the furious screams he let fly from his crib and returned my attention to Lyra. She was looking at me now with concern, thoughtfully chewing on her gummy now. I smiled at her and sat down to read her a story. We read a short one and she stacked a few blocks as Parker serenaded us with running scales of screams.

Two minutes were up, I went to retrieve Parker from bed and he gave me the customary 'sorry Mommy' and pat on the head that was required after such episodes. All three of us then sat down and Parker quietly engaged himself with his cars. Lyra seeing him, stood up, calmly walked over to where Parker's discarded gummies lay, and picked one up. 'Oh, if Parker sees her eat one of those...' I didn't know what he would do, I just hoped he didn't see her. She then toddled over with the one in her hand and offered it to him. He ignored her, almost spitefully. She offered it again and received the cold shoulder once more. The sweet girl then set the gummy down on the floor, retrieved the other abandoned gummy and lay it next to parker with it's companion. Without another sound, she then walked away, and found something to occupy herself with.

I was so touched. I would have eaten the thing in Parkers face just to get him back at being such a brat. But now that I write that, I see what a bratty thing it would have been to do. Parker silently picked up the gummies one at a time and ate them without looking away from what he was doing.

I am so glad I had my sweet little girl there to show me how to love someone. It is so odd seeing such adult behavior play out between these two, but it happens with startling frequency. They are living breathing blessings.

plugging away at year one

2011-06-28T10:32:00.000-07:00

Rolling over.

Lunch with Lyra and Parker

2011-06-22T13:56:00.000-07:00

Just a quick sample of lunch with Lyra and Parker

You can see their different language stratagies:

Parer - go for the important, direct words

Lyra - going for conversation rather than strict communication

And two years later....

2011-06-15T13:03:00.000-07:00

It took me a good long while, but I am starting to pull together the clips and films from Lyra and Parker's first year. We will see how long I keep it up, but posting it makes me feel like I am getting somewhere. So, here is an inglorious first snatch.

Sunday morning with the Heatons

2011-06-12T20:44:00.001-07:00

We were desperately trying to get out the door for church. Lyra was struggling to put on her pink butterfly shoes all by herself and, despite the extreme look of concentration, could not manage to slip all her toes under the straps. I had tried to help her, just to hurry things along, but it upset her more and I had upset the girl enough for this particular ten minutes. You see, Grandma Heaton had sent her beautiful and squeaky shoes for her birthday and Lyra had been extremely upset when I had informed her that she could not wear them to church. But be reasonable, with every step they let out an adorable, but loud, rubber ducky quality squeak (which is what I mean by squeaky shoes). As adorable and practical as that was, it was also very, very sacrament meeting inappropriate.

Parker trotted up to me with the one last birthday present we had yet to open saying 'shoes! shoes!' as he pressed it on me. Poor kid. Since grandma's marvelous magical squeaky shoes, every following present we had opened, had held the hope of a new fantastical shoe for Parker. The boy was disappointed with every other present except for the offering of a fruit by the foot given by another child. I had to inform Parker that this present did not hold a shoe for him and that he needed to get out to the car where Daddy would put him in his seat. Lyra had just finished struggling with her shoe so I followed Parker with Lyra in tow.

"MEEEESSSS! MoMMy! MESSSS!" Parker was pointing at the neighbor's driveway where they were still struggling to finish moving into their new home. "MEESSSS!" His joyful shouts were echoing around the clu-de-sac and I looked around, praying that the sound did not penetrate walls. "Mess! Mess! Mess!" Each word was punctuated by a sweetly chubby finger emphatically pointing. "Yes, Parker, yes, it is a mess" I had to agree, by his definition, it was a mess and the boy was not going to stop yelling 'mess' till I recognized his clever identification of said specimen 'mess.' Dad Grabbed the pleased little boy and started to strap him in, somehow teasing laughter from him as I walked around the car with Lyra.

I loved that man. He really was awesome. He was kind, handsome, smart, brilliant, he even smelled good - I lifted Lyra into her car seat- why even now, I could smell the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with... "Uh, Chris?"

Chris: "YEah?"

Me: "Were the babies in the bathroom with you as you finished up getting ready?"

Chris: "YEah, why?"

Me: "Lyra is wearing your deodorant. and perhaps a bit of your cologne." I could see Chris lean over and smell Parker.

Chris: "Well, that's ok, Parker smells like you." I giggled. See, he's funny, too. We were all but in the car and our kids may have slathered our deodorants under their chin (I guess my armpit looks like my neck. and either my armpit is flattered or my neck is insulted).

---to be continued, maybe---

2011-06-04T06:12:00.000-07:00

I was talking to Laura and she was complaining about how I was such a crummy post-er. She is right. I promised to put one up last night, didn't and am hoping some random pictures of my kids eating will suffice for just now. There really was nothing particularly awesome about this lunch, I just looked at my kids and thought they were most beautiful kids I had ever seen. So I took some pictures. They are far more beautiful and lovable in real life. I am so grateful for them. They are extremely good kids.

A farewell to 1330 Squirrel Creek Place

2011-04-27T14:14:00.001-07:00

Dear house:

Thank you for a fantastic childhood. It has been a long time since I last saw you. You had already started to change drastically. I think that the nasty flower carpet in the piano room was the most unfortunate of the changes. Almost all of the plants that I enthusiastically planted over the front yard were gone, too. Instead of fruity floral wallpaper in the kitchen you were yellow and had shed the fluorescent lights and broken ovens. The kitchen looked significantly better. I think over the time I lived there, the guest bathroom wall paper changed from an odd metallic faux finish wallpaper to bold black and white stripes, and then finally I think it was a red paint. Ha, the orange bedroom will be a hard one to fix. Sorry about that, it was me. It was supposed to be a burnt orange, an Asian reference, but instead it was an odd pumpkin look. Horrible. Sorry. I will not apologize for the green room, though. When I was done with it, it was beautiful. There was a lovely queen sized bed with soft golden yellow cover and the furniture was dark wood. It looked beautiful with the white and silver.

Anyway, I guess we all made our marks on the house. I doubt anyone will find it, but in the door frame to the bedroom right at the end of the hall, coming from the kitchen, yeah, totally splintered and had a deep dent in it. You will never find it unless you cut the thing through because I (and I am very proud of it) patched and painted over it in a way that you can't see it at all. It was a bad one, though. Jason put it there by riding down the stairs in one of those outdoor children's cars. I think it was the model with the orange body and yellow hood. No, no, not one of those fancy battery type, the good ol' plastic and wheels model. Yup, he wanted to see if he could, the boy lugged the thing to the top of the stairs, got in, and told us to push. It is a wonder he didn't break bones. We all slid down those stairs in sleeping bags, and all manner of plastic improvisation bum covers. As kids I suppose when we weren't throwing ourselves down the stairs we were making forts in the toy room, overturning the old wheat hued couches that had been put up there. I think those couches spent more time tipped on their sides and upside down than they did properly set up, cushions in place. I get it, though. I mean, it would require an entire couch barricade to protect from having to do your practicing.

I'll bet when things are really quiet in the house, you can still hear a dozen pianos reverberating from the walls. How many did we have going at once? Five? Two in the piano room, being used at the same time, one in the family room, one in the breezeway, one in the toy room, one in the laundry room and one in the garage? Is that all of them? All going at the same time, and none of us really wanting to hear or play any of them. It was a fantastic gift that we could, though. We really did get a rockin’ musical education. How many families grew up singing parts as young as they could talk? Well, some of us, at least.

It is funny how there were almost different generations of our family raised here. There are the older five who actually remember life before the Squirrel Creek house. We spent hours making forts upstairs. I can't list all of the ridiculous bets and club's we goaded each other into being part of. The best of which was the Tabasco sauce club where whoever could swig down the most Tabasco sauce was the president, but you had to swig at least four swigs to be in the club at all. I remember the boys goading each other into drinking baking soda and then vinegar. The girls did tea parties and danced in colorful slips to classical music as moonlight peaked in on us through those tall family room windows while the boys ran at each other with PVC pipes, wrapped in pads and duct tape to look like swords. The activities weren't always gender specific, sometimes the boys would grab sheets and wear them as capes and dance around the room like ninjas (yeah, ninjas dance) and the girls would grab a PVC pipe weapon and run in battle with the boys on the back lawn. The next 'generation' were kind of mixed in, dancing and swinging along as best they could.

The next two, essentially had two parents and then five other parents. Laura ran around in spandex shorts and tee shirt, gleaning berries from the berry patch or lounging naked in the sun as it poured through the piano room window (yeah, she was no more than five). Aaron ran around with Carter and Rex, his two buddies from childhood, always barely avoiding trouble. As both grew up, I remember driving Aaron and Carter to go pick up bottles of WD-40 so that they could light the streams of oil and play with the fire coming out of the cans... now that I am older that sounds horrible. What were we thinking? We all should have died burning oil deaths. Then it was carpooling Laura around with an Sheryl or one of the Del Sarto twins. Cheering like a lunatic at her soccer games and setting up cancan lines to keep things fun. Or sneaking in to the room on one of those cooler mornings and snuggling and talking till we were ready for a leisurely weekend day.

And then the last three, the boys. They had a whoppin' nine parents, or at least nine people who loved them a whole lot. We all watched them play and grow. We watched as Ammon read Calvin and Hobbs cartoons ad-nausem to everyone and then finally just to John, who seemed to love it. Those two read an entire encyclopedia of animals together almost as soon as Ammon could read. Dallon could be so sweet. I remember him packing lunches for me right before I had to leave on the plane. I really miss those little boys. I remember rocking them to sleep in the wee hours of the night, driving and driving John in the car because his ears hurt and he would not sleep any other way. Rocking Dallon late at night when he was sick. Bathing all three of the boys in the master bathtub. It was like a pool with bubbles. Helping them out, drying them down and putting them in their jamimes. Those jammies were so worn. Instead of getting new ones, we had merely cut the feet out of them and continued to use them. I was growing up and had to leave for college and then my mission and finally to get married and make my own family. But I had to do it at a time when they needed someone there the most. It tore my heart out to leave them. It still does. I am sitting here crying at how much I wish I could have been there for them, how I wish I could be there now. In the end, they weren't my boys, though. I had to leave them, there in that home with the green room that now had two twin beds in it instead of the queen sized dark furniture.

It seemed like every time I went back to see them, things were worse and the house was less what it was and more the confused, tortured remnants of something I had once loved. Finally, it was nothing more than a shell. Half the furnishings were gone, every room seemed haunted by good and bad memories. It was time to go. All things grow old, and some more graciously than others. This home had given all the good it could give to the Phipps kids and it was time to say goodbye so that it could be new and young for some other family. Please, don't get me wrong, I will miss it.

I will miss it, so so much. I will miss following up the dry creek into wild thickets where the deer and turkeys danced. I will miss crawling into the attic to find some long forgotten relic of Phipps past, only to find the remnants of old, dry lizard bread and a wedding dress that looks like a body bag (we love you Carter). I will miss the tree that was a play fort, the tree that was once almost a tree house, the tree we repelled and zip-lined from, and the tree we hung a tire swing from and made Isaac Shelly's eyes blood shot from the spinning g-force that went so fast that the sound seemed to come in waves. I will miss the hum of the pond filter in the summer heat and the smell of dried grass and weeds getting wet in the first fall rain. I will miss the feeling of having a place where I can remember the childhood feeling of absolute safety every time the house fan turns on at night. I will miss my happy family.

It is hard to imagine that we will ever have a place to meet, all of us together and happy. All of us, Jessica, Jason, Don, Sarah, Barbara, Aaron, Laura, Aamon, John, and Dallon. Where we can sit and laugh and be happy together. I think that is a good deal of the fear of losing this place. But do not worry, guys. We will find one. We may all be old and gray before we do, but we will get there. I know we will because we do truly love each other. We understand each other like no one else does. It was never really the green carpet and white eggshell walls that made that kind of love, we remember feeling loved there, but the love was from each other (man that sounds cheesy). We will miss you, 1330 Squirrel Creek Place, but we are going to be happy, even without you. We will find other places to be together. Thank you so much for being the foil for our love in the past. We wish you and everyone who lives in and loves you the very best.

Hawaii of 2010

2011-02-22T12:08:00.000-08:00

Here is Hawaii with the Heatons.

Christmas 2009

2011-02-22T09:50:00.000-08:00

Some of Christmas 2009 I thought I would share.

2010-12-10T18:37:00.000-08:00

Please watch the clip, decide what you like and don't like and then read the bottom.

I have spent hours and hours on this wretched clip. My Grandma Phipps was so sweet and came out to visit and love up my new babies last year. So as a present I thought I would send her a DVD of it. I have toiled and labored over this thing. Yesterday, when I had almost finished and something still seemed wrong. I made my sister (the guru who taught me everything I know) watch it and she said that the problem was the heinous music. That night, Chris turned to me and said 'Sarah, I don't want to offend you, but that music is horrible.' Yeah, you could have mentioned that two weeks ago when I first showed it to you. Anyway, after spending hours on it, I could not change it, not now, not after... no, I couldn't. So here it is. Now that you have seen it, vote, tell me honestly, is it the miserable music? I thought it gave it a little more of the old school feel. (?)

Just a clarification; Jessica was very, very tactful in how she pointed out that the music was the problem I was struggling to fix.

Thanksgiving thank you.

2010-12-01T12:47:00.001-08:00

This year's Thanksgiving was fantastic.

I keep thinking back on how Barbara kept us hydrated with the morning delivery of soda (and much needed hot pads and whatever else no one had thought of) and how Mal and Lyra were off falling in love. How Jessica helped me discover Adobe (THANK YOU!) and Preston provided priceless footage of the three toddlers begging around his lap for another crumb of chocolate zinger while Michael hid behind the island with his own. And then how Laura sat there feeding Andrew, then Parker, then Lyra, then Parker, then Andrew, then Parker while Rex and Michael ... what were those two doing that whole time? Something about finding a park? How did you guys get there? Thank you so, so much for coming. I am not sure if I am still exhausted because we laughed so much or because we were on our feet, literally all day Thanks giving day. I thought I would send out a few pictures. You can tell that the girls took them because we took pictures of our favorites: babies and our men.

sorry Mal, the monkey walk exists.

Thanks again, guys. Yeah, the layout makes no sense, I spent an hour wrestling with them and gave up.

2010-11-26T07:46:00.000-08:00

Our neighbors

2010-11-15T18:19:00.001-08:00

We have great neighbors. One couple in particular has been really great to us; our neighbors to the right of us. They were the first we met and we see their son, Andrew, on a daily basis. Our kids play in the cul-de-sac together as often as the weather allows and they let us use their toy cars and other toys... For the life of us we cannot remember their names. Its not like they are impersonable, remote people. I know about the sticky situation with the husband's ex-wife, we have chatted about Canada (where her family lives), have swapped teething cures, colic coping suggestions, hot play spots for toddlers, but in all that time, never have their names been slipped into the conversation. What do we do? When we see them out there it is always 'hey there how are YOU?" or "how are you guys doing?" or "nice to see you out here guys!" How long can we dodge names? Christmas is pending and we like to make caramel apples and Christmas cards... That's going to be a real treat 'Hey there guys! Merry Christmas! We are so glad that you guys are our neighbors... uh, have a good one, guys!" And then we can write 'you guys, our neighbors' on the envelope?

Our current plan is to have my sister introduce herself when we are "distracted" so that she can discover it for us. But the weather is getting cloudy and cold... I am starting to panic. What if they don't come out and Barbara can't introduce herself? Ug.

Halloween

2010-11-08T08:33:00.000-08:00

There is something cozy about sitting out on the porch and passing out candy to a parade of ghouls, princesses and various hues of Iron man. Somehow the idea of community seems so much more real. Our kids didn't really get it; Parker thought he was supposed to put the last treat he had gotten into the next homes bowl of treats. I am sure this is the last year he will make that mistake.

pumpkin farm with dad and Grandpa

Pumpkin carving with dad (Parker opted to sleep through this one)

Ward Chilli cook off and trunk or treat (Lyra is a Pegasus and Parker is a dragon, duh)

And after an exhausting 5 min of trick or treating to our two neighbors........ a moment to enjoy the spoils.

our kids are cheebies

2010-11-01T09:33:00.000-07:00

we have decided, Batman is a republican:

1) He's a corporatist

2) He's tough on crime, totally unforgiving

3) He's a little bit of a nut-case

Super man is a liberal - he is part of the media, I guess so was spider man, but that still fits.

There you have it.

This morning I went to get Parker out of bed, he had managed to get his diaper off and had pooped, stepped in the poop, and smeared it all over himself, and his crib (good times).

We also had to go to the dr's today so I bathed him quickly and had to leave the rest for later. After dropping dad off at work, we went straight to the Dr's and gave them both three shots (they really liked it there). Oh, and apparently they both have 93% head sizes and .5% weight and height for their age. Our kids are living Japanese cartoons.

we got home, I threw Lyra in her bed, Parker in a pack-n-play, and took various bits of his crib down and outside to hose them off.

you are now abreast with everything I have done today

(oh, I Fed the kids breakfast, too)

Chris and Sarah unscripted

2010-10-27T12:31:00.000-07:00

For want of anything cool to write, but still resolved to stick to the weekly blog resolution, I have decided to share one of our intimate conversations with you. Yes, here it is, in all of its raw, unedited glory:

Chris: k
what's for lunch?
kinda hungry
10:27 AM me: Chicken
unless you would like something else
Chris: hmm. . .
do we have enough for curry?
me: Chicken and potatoes
Chris: chicken and potatoes work
me: um, yeah I think so
we could do curry
10:28 AM Chris: what do you feel like?
me: either is the same work time and I don't really care at all
Chris: i'm kinda hankering for curry
yes hankering
me: lol
well, I guess if you are hankering
Chris: or should I say hankerrin'
10:29 AM me: We don't have our typical curry stuff but I can make a red curry (I will be sure to use more paste)
that ok?
Chris: ok sure
do you ever wonder if one day our kids will go back over all our IM conversations?
or grandkids?
me: I think that it would be kinda boring
10:30 AM with the occasional gem
Chris: Well, kid - if you are reading this - I'm sorry for the vastness of the lunch conversations
me: but now we usually just miss each other, love each other and plan lunch
yeah
Chris: yeah that's 90% of the conversations
me: at least they will have a very solid understanding of our day to day diet
Chris: yeah i suppose
that's something
me: there is historical value in that
10:31 AM we could decide if Bat man was republican, libertarian or democrat
that would spice up the reading for them
Chris: The hulk was democrat right?
10:32 AM he's a person of color
a Godless scientist
me: lol
and he seems to be 'green' if you know what I mean
Chris: that's right environmental - gree
n
10:33 AM me: and Spider man seems like a 'for the people' union/working class type guy
always on the outs and given a bad rap by his rich buddies, even though he works harder and is smarter than the rich guy
10:34 AM oh! and an evil bank takes his mom's hous
house*
totally labor union, big government controlling bad corporations type

And there you have it, what Chris and Sarah talk about. Not the best blog, but it was better than listening to me grouch about Parker being really sick and the gross diapers he makes when he is this ill.

family life

2010-10-20T11:57:00.000-07:00

As Chris was walking out the door, I noticed that Parker had smeared something sticky on Daddy's pants. I told Chris to wait a moment as I ran to the laundry room to get a wet rag. Lyra toddled behind me sweetly and I only paid enough attention to her to dodge around her on my way back to Chris. I started rubbing out the smudge located awkwardly behind his knee on his pant leg and was quickly finished. I then looked over to see that Lyra had grabbed a rag as well and was intently scrubbing at the back of Chris's other leg.

Parker got up one morning and started signaling 'food' so we trudged downstairs and fed him breakfast. When he was done, he signaled 'all done' nice and clearly so I helped him down. He then started clapping, which was funny to me because it seemed like he was pleased with how well I had learned his signs. He toddled upstairs and watched as Daddy got dressed and signaled 'help' when he wanted a brush to comb his hair. Then he then started waving good bye. Apparently he was ready to go to work with Daddy that day.

I wasn't paying close attention and Lyra was out of Cherios on her tray. I could hear her bumping around, but I was getting the rest of lunch ready and by the time I had turned around, Parker was already reaching over with a Cherio in his hand. He was giving her some of his. The sweet little guy held it out patiently until Lyra had managed to get it in her hand. She smiled at him, then me, then at the prized Cherio in her hand.

Daddy came home and after the regular 10 min of Daddy hugs, tosses, tickles and chases, Lyra toddled up to Chris with a book of nursery rhymes. Chris sat down with Lyra cradled in his crossed legs and read them to her as she grinned, so pleased with the world, and snuggled into Daddy's chest.

Chris and I were in the car and he turned to me and told me that he thought I was so smart. Coming from someone as smart as Chris, it's a complement. Apparently the landscape design that I had arranged, combined with my opinion on practical and impractical elements of college... I think there was a smattering of politics in there, too... anyway, I don't think it was all that smart, but it made me feel appreciated and loved that he would say that.

catching up

2010-09-30T11:46:00.000-07:00

These are some of the old clips that I have been intending to put up, but never did. You can almost see them growing.

I took this next video, left came back, took another just like it, left, returned when Lyra took interest, took more video, Lyra left, I took more video... something about the dryer... :

First word for Lyra? They actually remind me a lot of cookie monster sometimes... just with noodles.

and just to finish up for the day:

if I had billions stashed...

2010-09-22T10:51:00.000-07:00

Wow, I didn't think that anyone would read the non pictured, un announced blog. Thanks, guys.

Chris and I were having a funny conversation and we somehow started imagining up the most ridiculous things to spend money on. I think it was something like 'if someone had a huge stash of money they were wasting secretly, what might it be for?' It was a ridiculous conversation so the answers were equally ridiculous:

- Have hundreds of monkeys trained to do a civil war reenactment

-Buy WaltDisny's body (and perhaps grow a treasured garden with it?)

-Get the best star wars figurine collection of all time

-Buy a club in San Fran

-Huge donations to Bill O'Reilly

-Have dozens of stars named after you

-Employ dozens of people to make you look cool using posts on twitter

-Buy a renaissance fair so that you can pay to become the undisputed jousting champion

Well, if you ever read dozens of cool posts on twitter that, under a clear sky of twinkling (and recently re-named) stars, outside of a San Francisco club in a particularly lush (Disny-esque) garden, hundreds of Bill O'Relliy impersonators were paid to reenact a civil war battle using only Star Wars figurines and was ultimately won by the local renaissance fair's champion jouster... well, you might know who has (had) dozens of dollars stashed away.

A Sunday walk

2010-08-24T12:47:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago we had a fantastic Sunday walk and I have been meaning to tell the world about it for some time. You see, Chris had found this fantastic and large park that had a fishing pond, trails and play ground. We had been searching for a good one near us for some time so it was a big deal that one had finally surfaced so we anxiously bundled ourselves in the car and were off.
That day the sky was blue, sun shining visible rays between the billowy clouds and there was a soft, moist breeze wafting through the car windows. At first I thought that it was the movement of the car that made that air seem cooler, and wetter and the clouds darker and the beautiful sunrays sparser. We were scarcely a few miles from our sunny driveway when the rain hit, it was like someone had sprayed a hose directly into the windshield. A few more miles of careful driving later we arrived at a beautiful, soggy pond (which is an impressive state, since ponds are wet by nature).

After long debate, driving half the way home and turning back again we sat there, in the parking lot, waiting for the rain to stop. We were hoping that we would, in fact, get to trot around the pond and the lush forestation around and behind it if we just waited around long enough for the rain to pass. There we sat, noses pressed against the window like little kids peaking into a candy store. We eventually decided a little rain never hurt anyone, it's not like it was cold rain or anything. Chris strapped Parker to his chest and I tucked Lyra onto mine and off we went.

The park was beautiful and the rain was more of a drizzle. We slogged around in the mud, slurping from one firm-ish piece of grassy mud to another as we watched some of the more determined young fishers cast their hooks back into the pond. Chris shook a series of branches over my head till, drizzle or no, Lyra and I were soaked. Don't worry, though, we got Daddy and Parker back and ran away over a slick grassy path before he could retaliate. It makes me chuckle sometimes, imagining what we must have looked like; two wet adults with kicking and laughing toddlers strapped to their fronts chasing each other in the forest like impish flirts. We followed trails and threw pinecones in other ponds we found, watched leaves race down swollen streams and rinsed our feet in warm, clear puddles. The clouds had diffused the light so that everything had a soft, rich glow to it. I love Houston during the storms that pass through here.

As we were heading in, Parker started jumping and waving: he had just discovered the many birds flocking on the soccer field. Chris trotted over and raced through a thick grouping of birds to the chortling of Paker's excited screams. Not to be out done, I turned to the ducks that were not far off and Lyra, too, became animated and excited. I followed a few of the bigger geese, as they seemed more exciting to her, right up until the thing started hissing at us. I realized Lyra was strapped to my front and would probably get her sweet little feet nipped long before the thing got to me. I was so mad I was ready to kick it's hissing beak face into the beautiful mud; how dare that goose pose a threat to Lyra! But I would have to save the goose thrashing for later, Lyra's feet were still dangling and the goose was now charging so I snatched them up and skipped out of range quickly. It was my fault, but I was still surprised how mad I had been at a silly goose.
Chris took my hand in his big warm grasp and it was only then that I realized how cool it had become. I wrapped an extra arm around Lyra's front and pulled her closer to ensure that she was still warm, then walked a little closer to Chris. The muffled quiet was made particularly cozy by the sound of the trees shaking the last of the rain from their branches. The smell of clean fresh bark accompanied us as we headed back towards the car. What a lovely Sunday jaunt it had been.
We arrived at the car, threw on the heat and drove home, tired and happy, the babies cheerily munching on teddy grams, Chris smiling in the rear view mirror at his two beautiful kids, and me thoughtfully considering the best goose mangling technique.

a few sweet moments

2010-06-23T17:47:00.000-07:00

Lyra is upstairs crying at me in a pouty sort of way. I don't think I care. It has been a long 24 hours and I should write a beautiful story about the many little stories that happen daily. Like the instance when we were at church and the faint smell of poop came wafting up from down where our kids and one other was playing. Both Chris and I, completely unconcerned, waited for the other parent to smell it and check their kid. We know the flavor of our children's poop, apparently, and that was not it. We knew it had to be the other kid.

Or when we were in the doctor's office and while waiting for a good 45 minutes, Chris got bored, placed Parker tummy down on a round dr's chair and spun Parker till he was giggling uncontrollably. I guess you had to be there. It was the most hilarious thing ever. Wish I had a camera for that one.

Moments like that are becoming a regular as our happy little kids discover us, each other and dirt. Oh, did I forget to mention that Parker finds it hilarious to pick the mud from between the tread of Chris's sandals and eat it? Is it the taste, texture or how mom freaks out? I don't know but I wish he would eat food as well as he eats mud. Anyway, I should write long beautiful stories about moments like that, but I think what you have is going to have to do.

That was more than I was going to put into this, so why not some video clips while I am going the extra mile?

Overview of Parker and Lyra a few months in

2010-03-02T07:47:00.000-08:00

Overview of Parker and Lyra:

Lyra and Parker are starting to sit up now. They are getting better control of their bodies and really starting to explore the world. The other day Lyra had a stuffed bear Laura had crocheted and she would hold it out, look at it, and try to stuff the whole head in her mouth, then hold it out again, attack the arms, then hold it out again, dive for the head. So cute. Parker Just smiles. That is what he does. He is getting to be so beautiful. I have yet to snap a picture that really shows how beautiful he is.

Both of them are starting to talk. Parker coos and smiles and gurgles while holding out his hands, looking at them, watching them move, examining the fingers and how he can intertwine them. Lyra growls and does 'raspberries' with her tong. She also starts yelling when she is really interested or amused with something. Unfortunately her yell sounds an awful lot like a crying, yelling baby so when she is truly amused, most people keep looking at her like they think she is very upset.
Lyra is developing uber-ticklish ribs. Just softly rubbing them sometimes gets her squirming and giggling. Parker isn't quite as quick to giggle and laugh, which surprises me because he lives trying to split his entire face with a smile. Yesterday he started choking and coughed up a mouthful of slobber, spit and mucus but still, through all of it, he was trying to smile. Finally, he pulled off a full grin as the whole slobbery, stringy, bubbly mess was drooling out of his mouth. Somehow the pleased smile made the whole mess unbelievably endearing.

Lyra is most beautiful at night; she starts carefully focusing and babbling. Last night she was in Chris's lap, playing with the strings of his hoodie. She was so content, happily alternating between 'raspberries,' 'lalala,' 'coo,' and a soft hum. It was beautiful. There we were, Chris happy with humming Lyra as she tangled her hands and arms in his hoddie strings. Me, snuggled close into Chris's shoulder with Parker who was smiling as he slept in my arms. I thought, 'everyone should have this.' And everyone should. What a sad, sad thing that anyone would not have the chance to sit there watching as their clever little baby contentedly discovers the world.... or, well, at least Chris's hoodie strings.

(I know there are more pictures of Lyra than Parker. She was just particularly camera friendly this last bit)

2010-02-08T12:06:00.001-08:00

Lyra hasn't been sleeping so well since Christmas and I think I have finally started to show symptoms of 'exhausted mommy.' I thought I would list my symptoms here and see if you guys think I have diagnosed myself correctly:

-I went to help the bagger guy load my groceries back into the cart and he started giving me a funny look. It was only then that I realized that I was just loading things back into the cart, un-bagged. A can of tomato sauce, a box of pasta, frozen peas and a container of mushrooms all rolled around loosely in the bottom of the cart, ready to be taken home solo.
- I can't remember if my phone number starts 832 or 823... and I actually had to call myself on skype to find out.
-as we were signing papers to put in an offer on a home, Chris had to look up my ssn because I could not remember if there was a four or a one.
- We got home and as Chris took the kids and watched the Superbowl, I slept the entire rest of the day and was still tired enough to sleep through the night.
- I put on a turtle neck shirt, with an admittedly large neck on it and could not tell if I had the waist flopping around my neck and the 'turtle' of the neck around my waist, or if I was wearing it right side up.
- I will say a simple sentence like 'I hope we don't need to bring apples' and be sure that the sentence is grammatically wrong.
- I will think that it is a perfectly rational assumption to think that the ache in my arm and chest are sure signs of pending heart attack.
- Someone will say something and I will reply 'I don't know, but ..' and say the exact thing that they just said.
- Chris has to tell me the same story four times before I can concentrate long enough to get the entire thing (He said that we could just talk about whatever was distractingly on my mind... but that is just the thing, there was nothing)
- Some guy waved at us as we passed each other in the church parking lot and I asked Chris who it was 'uh, bishop Peterson, our bishop' and then later at an activity I sat next to a woman who warmly greeted me by name and as I was wondering how I knew this woman someone mentioned bishop Peterson and I turned to her and asked 'who is Bishop Peterson?' Apparently I knew her because she was the bishop's wife. (Note: we have had Bishop Peterson over at our house.)
- I thought 'lariey' was a viable spelling of 'Larry'

I'll leave it at that before I loose all dignity, but to my credit, I made a caking good bison stew the other day. It was all cool and gusty out, perfect weather for a hearty stew and boy howdy, this one was good. I got a good wife point for that one.

sleeping time

2009-12-15T11:23:00.000-08:00

Chris has never been a sleep walker. He has never even been much of a sleep talker. So you can imagine my surprise when I woke to find Chris searching around in the bed sheets crying 'Parker? Where's Parker! Parker!'

No amount of reassuring or telling him that Parker was safe in his own bed would calm Chris. Soon he had pulled up the blankets and was searching under and in them for the all-illusive Parker. Finally I told him I would go check to see if Parker was in his own bed. Parker, of course, was still sleeping peacefully in bed with Lyra not far away.

I told Chris, who was still anxious, that Parker was sound asleep where he was supposed to be and Chris settled down. It is too bad Chris doesn't even remember the dream that provoked his panicked search.
(this is actually him and Lyra, but I thought it was close enough)

He did, however, remember me waking up in the middle of the night screaming because the lightning was crashing so closely over our heads.

At least the kids are getting a good 8 hours a night.

I thought I would post some of the Thanksgiving pictures while I was at it.

What do you think?

2009-11-10T15:09:00.000-08:00

Chris and I were trying to figure out what color our kid's eyes would be and thought we would let you guys put in a vote.

These are Parker's eyes

From LyraParker4 months

These are Lyra's eyes

From LyraParker4 months

What do you think?

Anniversary trip

2009-11-09T09:23:00.000-08:00

We were off. Corpus Christi was first in the three city tour we were going to make over the weekend. Chris had come up with his brilliant idea Wednesday and we hadbooked everything then to leave right after he got back from work on Friday. Thanks to all the big trips his family did, Chris was very comfortable with traveling on the fly like this. I watched as the green landscape whized by; the car ride really was the best part of the trip. Chris would be trapped in a car with little to distract him except his ipod and me so it allowed for a lot (and I mean a LOT) of easy conversation with him. In the middle of a heated debate over who loved the other most (and for the record, I love Chris more than he loves me (no she doesn't)... gosh, we are saccharin sweet sometimes... anyone have diabetes yet?) we passed through a very small town. Oddly enough the entire citizenry of the town seemed to be converging on the one building of note - the football stadium. I have no idea what a town that size is doing with a foot ball stadium that large.

"What is going on?" I asked.
"Oh, there must be a football game" Chris replied.

What kind of highschool can afford a stadum that size? In a spat of spontaneous glee I asked if he wanted to go to the game. How could I not? People were still flocking to the place in droves. So we did, we pulled right on over in some unknown town for a game between two unknown highschoos, toting Lyra and Parker right along with us. I picked the cool team that ran out from between the legs of an inflatable cougar, Chris stuck with the black clad 'Crabs' who came storming out of a silver arch. For sure my manflesh was going to crush his manflesh and then I would win the privilege of choosing who had to pick where we ate (a highly coveted privilege here). Unfortunately it was not long before his highschool boys smeared my guys across the field, provoking my cheerleaders to put more and more effort to keep their side animated. At one point I could have sworn they were cheering "GDP! GDP!' I could not imagine why they would be cheering for our Gross Domestic Product... perhaps it was part of a program to improove the image of ditzy cheer leaders? I pointed the odd cheer out to Chris who then began to laugh and created a whole, very clever cheer for the American GDP. If only I had gotten that one on camera. Apparently they were cheering 'FDP' and I just have a hearing problem.

Chris's team won and it wasn't long before we were in Corpus Christi. We fed the babies and tucked them into the baby carriers that Chris and I were both wearing. The hotel was right on the beach so we took a night stroll in the surf. There, hand in hand, we walked allong the beach as the moon glinted off of white birds' wings and the waves wove beeds of sand between our toes. More romantic than all were the quanint people fishing directly off the beach who laughed and sat in the night breeze, obviously (as Chris put it) 'drunk off their asses.' Huh. That's what that looks like.

Watching the sun rise that next morning helped me understand what all those poets were talking about when they described liquid gold pouring over the sea. It was a beautiful. We then drove off to the Alamo where Chris lamented that, despite tradition, the babies inevitably would not 'remember the Alamo.' We also went on a river walk that was landscaped well enough to rival Disneyland. It was a lovely walk, but I think both Chris and I were fairly done with the beautiful walk about the 60th time some one commented 'ooo! Twins,' 'hey, look, twins!' 'look there are two of them' or some derivative thereof. After one woman had told him 'Look, you have two babies!' a shocked look flashed across his face, he turned to me and cried out in surprise, pointing to the baby on my chest 'OH! Sarah! Look there is another one! We DO have twins!' Sure it was sarcastic and everyone was just being sweet, but that many times in mere minutes is a bit much. fortunately we seem to have been less of a spectical at the botanical gardens and becides hauling the twins, still in the stroller, up the most narrow and windy staircase, things were pretty melow.

The babies had been blissfully good about the whole trip and we had been good about stoping every three hours to feed and play with them. They were a ready hit with everyone that happened to be within a 50 foot radious. We stopped at a restaurant to feed them and a woman even came from the back to come see them. Other diners came by including a latino woman who kept trying to touch them. Apparently she didn't speak english and was determined enough to not care what I was saying in my mexicanized Portuguese. What do you do?

We tried to catch some of the reactions to the kids as we were waiting on the 'bat bridge' in Austin. The 'bat bridge' was a bridge where at twilight hundreds of bats came pouring out from underneath. When we got there hundreds of people were already on the bridge, on the grass lining the banks of the bridge and even on special farrys on the river all poised to see the spectical. We positioned ourselves on the bridge sidewalk and entertained ourselves by trying to record the manny comments as the people passed by and commented on the babies in their stroller (see video). The bats themselves were cool, but we were above them so it was hard to distinguish their little bodies from the trees below, but the squeeks and fluttering bat wings of thousands upon thousands of bats made a roar that accompanied a powerfull bat guano smell. Cool.

When we returned to the hotell there were chocolate dipped strawberries and champagine wating for us, complements of the Hilton. Yum. Well, yum for the strawberries at least. It was actually a super cool hotel, with a cool history but this thing is too long.

Our trip ended with the most amazing BBQ ever eaten by man. We were lucky to find it as it was lost in the open of Texas where the green gras stretches so far it touches the horizon like the sea.

Anyway, that was our annaversary.

Parker and Lyra Blessing

2009-10-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

Hey All-

We blessed Parker and Lyra last week. Here are some pictures:

http://picasaweb.google.com/chrisheaton/LyraParker4Months#

Here are a few favorites.

waking up

2009-09-01T11:41:00.000-07:00

I thought I would go through and introduce the babies a little more thoroughly, but I think these two clips say it all:

We also had two visitors this last week. First was Chris’s Dad who held those little guys till they were spoiled with it and the next day Lyra fussed horribly expecting grandpa to pick her up again.

Then Laura (my sister) came over straight from Alaska. With the smell of glaciers still in her hair she dove right in, changing diapers and everything.

Sweet Times in the Heaton Household

2009-08-16T18:18:00.000-07:00

Hi friends!

We've had a lot of sweet moments over the last couple of weeks. One of the sweetest was looking back over some pictures of Chris when he was a baby and seeing a lot of similarities to Parker and to a lesser extend Lyra. Here are some pictures - what do you guys think? Lyra is the first picture, Parker is the second picture and I am the last.

Here are the few of the most common questions:

Are you getting any sleep?

Well, yes and no. They feed every three hours, day or night. Right now we feed them at 3:00, 6:00, 9:00 and 12:00 (am and pm). When I work the next day, Sarah is good enough to take the 12:00 and 3:00 feedings. I will get up at 6:00, feed them until 7:00 and then go to work. That means that I get fairly uninterrupted sleep from about 11:00 pm to 6:oo am. Sarah gets very interrupted sleep from 11:00p - 4:00 and get better sleep 4:00a - 9:00a. Generally the babies will sleep if we feed them every three hours. Sometimes they don't and we get a poor night's sleep.

However, last Friday Sarah was exhausted, so I got up for the 3a feeding. I couldn't go back to sleep after that, so I got to work at about 4:30 am. I then went home at noon and slept through the afternoon - which was really nice.

What are feedings like with two?

We feed the babies simultaneously - see the picture below. We change the one that is fussing the most, then set him/her with a bottle, then set the other up. We then wedge a burp cloth around each bottle to make sure that it doesn't fall out of their mouths. Once both are set up like below, we have about 15 minutes to clean up or doze or whatever. Ideally, we should feed them separately, but the whole process takes about 45 minutes each if you don't overlap. So if they don't overlap you are feeding the babies 1.5 hours every 3 hours - a ridiculous feet. So we like our system.

Do they have personalities yet?

Yeah - Parker is wiggly and a lot more fussy then Lyra. He like things really warm and loves to grab at things. He smiles a little when we stroll around with him the stroller and likes the bumps.

Lyra is a lot quieter. She doesn't eat as well and loves to just look around at everything. She has long features - legs, fingers, arms, body. She loves to purse her lips.

Well I think that's it for now. As always you can see the latest pictures here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/chrisheaton/LyraAndParkerHome#

The whole story

2009-07-17T13:35:00.000-07:00

I had in my mind that I would write out the whole story of our twin’s birth and then post it, in all of it’s dramatic, tragic, and beautiful glory. And then I realized that to write that whole thing out would not only mean that I would have to relive it, but that it would be crazy long. I got about eight pages in and realized that no one wanted that story- not even me.

Here is the short version:

We arrived at the hospital fully expecting to be sent home again after another uneventful night in the hospital. The doctor took one look, announced that it was too late, that they would be born that day, threw on a pair of gloves and essentially told me that it was finally ok for me to push (my body had been aching to do just that for three weeks at that point… ohh I had some unbelievable nights). There was no time for pain killers. The up side is that they were both born vaginally. For a moment it looked like one would be vaginally and the other C-section. There was no more than 20 minutes between the first breath of our little girl, Lyra, and that of our little boy, Parker.

I didn’t get to hold them until about three days later. Dad had to wait four days. They are finally fleshing out, though, and we can almost hold them whenever we want. Both Chris and I cherish the few hours a day when we get to be together as a family. We go there at night, each of us feeds one and then we all settle in together to read a few chapters of a book together. Those are the best few hours of the day. Then the urgent beep of a monitor reminds us of where we are or a nurse will inform us of the time and all too soon, we have to bundle half the family back up and put them in their plastic containers till the next day.

But those few hours are little bits of heaven on earth.

The Babies are Here!

2009-06-08T20:14:00.001-07:00

Hey all,

It's been an exhausting couple of days. We'll write up a bigger post with details on this, but we thought we should let you all know that the babies are here.

Lyra Emily* and Parker Bishop Heaton were born on June 7th, 2009 at 7:14 and 7:36 pm, respectively. They weighed 2 lbs 1 ounce and 2 lbs 11 ounces, respectively. They are about 10 weeks premature. We're not out of the woods yet, but the babies are as healthy as can be expected for their sizes. They are currently at the hospital in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU). The doctors/nurses keep telling us that they are perfectly healthy, except for being incredibly small. Sarah is doing well, if a little sore. She delivered both consecutively without any anasthesia - not intentionally without anasthesia. She was up and walking around 30 minutes later. What a sport!

Anyway, more details later. Here is a link to pictures and some easy-to-access ones for those less interested:

http://picasaweb.google.com/chrisheaton/ParkerAndLyraBirth1#

Lyra Emily Heaton

Parker Bishop Heaton

* The "Emily" part is new as of yesterday. We decided that we would like her to be able to fall back on a more common name if she wanted to. We are encouraging people to choose one of the names and stick to it. So far, most people still call her Lyra, so we are recruiting people to call her Emily. Thanks!

survivng pregnancy

2009-05-06T15:57:00.000-07:00

An ode to my fantastic husband:

I know an ode feels like it should rhyme or go along with some fancy classical music. This one doesn’t, but if I could write music or poetry, I certainly would have. I figure that this is the closest I will get to a poetical symphony, so it is a Sarah style ode.

Chris has been super husband through our whole trying to have kids fiasco started. The guy had to give me shots and discuss our sexual habits with perfect strangers but even so, he still had the compassion to tenderly love me and help me as I was having rough reactions to various fertility treatments.

Actually, I don’t know what we will do when we no longer have some form of reproductive drama going on in our lives. It seems like an integral part of life now, like the sun coming up. That is partly why it is still so amazing to me that he so enthusiastically does whatever he can to help. One of the latest developments is that with me on bed rest, he has completely re-arranged any and all forms of entertainment that we had spread throughout the house. They are all now hooked up to be controlled via remote and viewable from bed. I feel like one of those master computer guys you always imagine, tucked away in some basement with a dozen fancy screens. Anyway, it gives me absolutely no room to complain, I am living the dream every guy only wishes he could dream. And that is not to mention the gourmet omelet, French toast, or almost anything else high in protein, iron, or fat I happen to feel like eating. Gosh, Chris would even feed me ice cream all day if he thought I would eat it.

We found out that I was behind on my weight gain, and ever since, Chris has delighted in watching me get bigger and bigger, like it was his own personal accomplishment. In a way, I guess it is. He makes me enough food and then feeds me enough of the generous meals people keep bringing us. It’s good because it ups our chances of giving birth to three pound babies instead of one pound kids, but it is an odd ‘get fat as quickly as you can’ paradigm to accustom myself to. Points to Chris, though. He seems to love his fat wife just as much as his skinny one and I thank my lucky stars again that I somehow got him.

Apartments in Houston

2009-04-25T10:42:00.001-07:00

Hi Friends!

We really like the idea of polls on this page, so we are going to subject you to a very long and intensive poll. We're inviting you to study out the possibilities for our apartment in Houston below and then pick your favorite! Fun huh?

So take a look at the options below (you can even click the titles to go to their homepages, if you are the thorough type (or bored type)).

Anyway, here are the options (in no particular order):

Vintage Park

1220 sq. feet
Distance from Work: 3 Minutes
Distance from a Park: 8 Minutes
Forest-y? Not especially
Pricing: Average
Computer Niche? No
Notes: Cherry Cabinets w/ Silver Hardware. Marble tiling in bathroom

Bird's Eye View
(Close the pop-up to see the view)

Villas at Cypresswood

1448 sq. feeet
Distance from Work: 5 Minutes
Distance from a Park: Across the Street
Forest-y? Very
Pricing: High
Computer Niche? Yes
Notes: Large Layout. Oak Cabinets.

Bird's Eye View
(Close the pop-up to see the view)

Tradewinds at Willowbrook

1196 sq.feet
Distance from Work: 9 Minutes
Distance from a Park: 8 Minutes
Forest-y? A small walk in the center
Pricing: Average
Computer Niche? Yes
Notes: Walking distance to a mall. Bay Windows. Maple Cabinetry. Closer to downtown.

Bird's Eye View
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Verde at Northpointe

1260 sq.feet
Distance from Work: 8 Minutes
Distance from a Park: 15 Minutes
Forest-y? Kind of
Pricing: Low
Computer Niche? Yes
Notes: Circular Design (great for chasing kids). Further from downtown. Granite Counter Tops. Cherry Cabinetry. Brushed Steel Hardware.

Bird's Eye View
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Lakes at Cypresswood

1147 sq. feet
Distance from Work: 5 Minutes
Distance from a Park: Across the Street
Forest-y? Kind of
Pricing: Average
Computer Niche? Yes
Notes: Bay Windows. Cherry Cabinetry. Great lighting. Close to a Grocery Store.

Bird's Eye View
(Close the pop-up to see the view)

our exciting week

2009-04-15T16:39:00.000-07:00

This has been a rather exciting few days! We found out that Chris and I will be moving to Houston Texas where he will be working for Hewlett Packard! We are so wildly grateful for the gracious prayers and support we have received on our account for that. Thanks Guys!

We have also been overwhelmed with offers of help and dinners since I have had to go on bed rest. So many of you have willingly offered help and to my surprise didn’t even have to be told exactly what was wrong. Just the simple fact that we needed help was enough to provoke people into action. Truly, I had no idea that so many people would give so anxiously and graciously of their efforts and time. Thank you guys.

I thought I would offer an official explanation of what is going on. Some of you may have heard that I was having ‘cramps’ or that the babies were sick? Or just that I was dying in the hospital and had been moved to my home to live out my last few remaining moments in my own bed?

Here is what was really going on:

First of all, there weren’t cramps really. I was sore and had a hard time walking. It hurt in a strange, ‘here is pressure where it shouldn’t be’ way and there would be occasional hard pangs down low that just felt scary; looking back I think it was our little girl kicking me where she shouldn't have been able to yet. Walking was like dragging my feet through waist high mud.

After a very long, convoluted story’s worth of confusion and mess, I ended up getting a checkup with the head of the high-risk maternal fetal medicine, Dr. Brown. He didn’t seem concerned until he had heard of my family history with second term miscarriage. It was not long after that he had discovered my cervical length to be 2.7 cm. (picture provided to explain what that is for some of you unmarried gents). The average cervix at this point should be closer to 4 cm.

It was plain that my cervical length was distressing to him and he even brought in another doctor to check again because the initial numbers were.. how do you say?... not good? The second set was no different and when the room had cleared of the extra personnel, he looked at us and told me that if I had a job, I needed to quit because it was time to “take it easy” and come back after the weekend so that they could check on me again.

Monday morning found us anxiously waiting in the ultrasound room for our newest measurements. Hardly any time had passed before there were anxious steps in the hallway and a doctor’s voice saying ‘no, it’s ok, I will tell them.’

She entered and perched on a revolving stool with a worried face. She informed us that my cervix was now at 1.1 cm. We had lost over 1 ½ cm just over the weekend. Another few days like that and this pregnancy would be over; there would be nothing anyone could do about it. She had already called the hospital where they would be waiting for us. For a moment she left us to ensure that our latest cervix measurements were sent directly to the hospital and I took the chance to break down.

I grabbed Chris and buried my face in his shoulder thinking of all the times I had been walking around when I had not need to. The thing that gets me is that I knew to look out for this. I knew it was perfectly possible, and even anticipated that this could happen to me. It had already happened to my sister. Images passed in my head of my sister when she was trying to keep her twins after her cervix had shortened and even opened before it was discovered. I thought of her anxious face as she told me her little boy’s foot was already ‘hanging out,’ and finally remembered watching her wilt as they picked sweet tombstones for their twins.

As we left the doctor’s office, she solemnly told us to go through emergency so that we could get a wheel chair, instead of walking in on my feet.

When we arrived at the hospital there was a flutter of nurses, urine samples (I am getting so good at those), blood tests, and more nurses. They started trying to monitor me for contractions and tested occasionally for fetal heart beats. No contractions and two strong heart beats. The doctor finally came in, trepidation dripping from every line of his body. I actually felt sorry for him. He told us that in the absence of contractions they imagined the reason that our babies threatened to fall out was that I had an incompetent cervix.

Unfortunately, because this was my first pregnancy and because it was twins, the problem could just as easily be that my body was simply unable to handle the load. Either way, he said that the only option at this point was a cerclage (they basically try to sew your cervix closed so it can’t open more), which is normally only used in a select group of women and is put in long before this point. He then rattled off a huge list of statistics and studies that had been done on ‘last minute cerclage’ single baby pregnancies. All of them seemed to indicate that it didn’t make any difference. He seemed even less optimistic as there was even less chance that this would help in a twin pregnancy. He did, however think that a cerclage just maybe, might get us to 24 weeks gestation which would mean that it was conceivable to save them outside the womb. But no promises.

I was not going to sit back and let these kids go just because statistically it looked less than promising. I told the doctor in no uncertain terms that we were getting a cerclage and as he drew a diagram of how the surgery would go I teased him, asking if it ever bothered his wife that he was always drawing dirty pictures for strange women. He laughed and the combination of our resolve and the lighter mood seemed to put him more at ease.

So, long story even longer, we had an amniocentesis to be sure that it wasn’t just an infection – which the doctor told us was possible and meant that we would simply have to loose the babies because it was going to kill them and make me deathly ill. Then I had an epidural (gosh I love drugs). One surgery and three episodes of inexplicable pulse racing, ear ringing, cold sweat delirium that had doctors racing and Chris looking panic stricken, I had my cerclage.

Glories be, it seems to be holding, which means those kids are still blissfully swimming where they should be. During the follow up appointment we were told that I could walk around a little. That was a relief. In a tone indicating that she was being extraordinarily generous, the doctor also told us that I could even occasionally go to something like the movies or dinner (they were implicitly different occasions. Dinner or a Movie, not both.).

So there it is. That is what happened. I hope my in-laws forgive me for not going to the Florida Disney world vacation, I know that pregnancy in the past has not been a reason not to go on family vacations... You should have seen the doctors response when we asked about it, though. Apparently she seemed to think the ‘dinner or movie, but not both’ liberty was being stretched a bit far.

(to the side you, too can vote on how far you think we will last in light of this new and exciting update!... I guess it feels less scary if you can talk and joke about it.)

A Boy and A Girl

2009-03-20T07:52:00.000-07:00

The Girl

The Boy

You can find additional ultrasound pictures (including a few 3D ones) at http://picasaweb.google.com/chrisheaton/Baby?authkey=Gv1sRgCNDEiI_EhIDiaQ&feat=directlink

Hi Friends -

We have a baby boy and a baby girl! We're so excited! I've added a name voter on the right. Please feel free to vote, but don't expect that it will make any difference (Mwahahahaha!). We'd still love to see your thoughts.

Sarah is doing well. She hasn't thrown up in 4 days! Yeah! She's been craving bean burritos and strawberries. Jenna H. thinks that's because the boy wants the burritos and the girl wants the strawberries. I'm still hitting the job search very hard and praying something will come up soon. This will be a very short post; Chris is writing it.

Oh and one more thing - now that we have a girl, I have to lay down a ground rule. No princess things! Our daughters are not princesses - scholars, yes; divas, if they take after Sarah. We love her, but she's not a princess. Thank you for your compliance :D

Chris and Sarah

Pregnancy

2009-02-07T21:29:00.000-08:00

The Smell was everywhere. It was one of those putrid smells that seems to have wafted up from below in warm, thick blankets and completely wrapped you until it had become a defining layer of your skin. It was smothering me and I could not escape as it began to creep down my nose, my mouth, my throat...

I woke with a gasp and as gently as I could, flew out of Chris's sleeping arms and into the bathroom. Ahh, the bathroom. The toilet smugly awaited my return. It had, after all, been an entire half hour since I had last paid homage and the toilet is a zealous master; no one can escape it for long. My head was throbbing and the loud echoes of my empty heaves in the porcelain basin only augmented the pounds in my head.

The headache was supposed to be one of the many casualties of the pregnancy war raging in my body and theoretically so was the heaving and gagging. But it didn't make sense to me any more. I wasn't throwing up because my stomach was empty; I had tried to keep down saltines after my first toilet communion and those had come up swiftly enough. I then thought that perhaps it was sugar I needed. So I ate the precious peach I had guiltily bought the day before. It was simply divine, both going down and coming up... funny how after a while you start selecting food not on taste alone, but how comfortably it can be vomited back up. But that had been three or four vomits ago. Now I had resigned myself to emptily convulsing over the toilet every half hour more or less. Apparently nothing I could do about it. If this was, indeed a war, pregnancy was definitely winning.

I lay exhausted on the floor and would have tried to sleep my next few minutes of peace right there on the cool linoleum but I soon started to shiver in the early morning cold. I would have pulled on a towel but they were all still strewn across the bedroom floor where I had neglected to pick them up and wash them with the growing mound of laundry cluttering the space around the full laundry bin. "Common Sarah, off we go" I thought to myself as I picked up an aerosol can of air freshener. I took two deep breaths and heaved myself to my feet. Armed against the smell of last night's Jambalaya with the can of air freshener I braved the short span of hallway spraying with all my might. Ugh! I could still smell it. The onion, sausage and garlic smell that had delighted Chris and I for dinner was now the impenetrable smell that I could not expunge from the memory of the cells in my nose. I was through! I quickly shut the door behind me and sprayed the area around it before any of the lingering smell managed to seep its way into the walls. Chris stirred at the hiss of the spray and I used the opportunity to tuck myself back into his unsettled arms. Ahhhh... Safe for at least another 20 minutes.

Not every night is like this. Actually, it is rather rare. Thanks to the blessed wonders of modern medicine I usually escape this kind of scenario by taking a pill. Pregnancy has introduced me to a lot of pills. Right now I only have to deal with three. One to keep me from exploding (I am serious) with water as pregnancy devised a way of making my thyroids retain water in my stomach. Around the fourth week of pregnancy I started to retain water and in four days I had gained about ten pounds of it in my abdomen and I was still expanding before they actually got the drug to me. My fertility doctor still calls me to make sure that my new doctor knows and will consistency test me for it. Then there is the folic acid - pure - so that the kiddies bake right. And finally there is the vomit pill. That is the one that ran out a day ago. I am between doctors right now, as I graduated from the fertility clinic and the OB-GYN couldn't see me for what has turned out to be a month. Unfortunately the vomit pill had been renewed to the prescription max and now I was stuck. "Who would give me another vomit pill" I dreamed with a plea.

It was now light outside and Chris fully woke this time as I started to stir again. I must have looked like.. well, a dehydrated, exhausted, vomit champion because as I woke with bile already rising to my lips I could see his concerned face leaning over me. "Can I get you something to eat?" I would have said 'no' but I was already pushing past him on my way to the bathroom. "What can I do?" he asked after watching me kneel and spit and burp foamy stomach acid into the toilet. I shook my head and heaved airily again into the basin. "There must be something I can do. I heard you get up last night. Did you get up all those times because I think I may have dreamed some of those?" I again shook my head and started waving him away. He sat next to me and rubbed my back now talking to himself more than me; "this is awful, there must be something I can do." I continued to heave. My muscles were sore, I was sure that there was some vein in behind my nose that was going to burst and my stomach seemed discontent with the simple foam and bile that I was spitting. It was going to hurl itself out this time unless something more interesting rose soon. It was unbearable and I began to whimper piteously between the heaves. That was when Chris left to get my phone. "You need to all someone, Sarah. Someone will prescribe something." I continued to retch.

Chris was gone and I flushed, spitefully and leaned away from the nasty basin. My stomach was still contorting, but I knew there was nothing even to spit. My impetuously pregnant stomach wrenched, indignant that I was no longer following its orders to lean over the toilet. But nothing was going to come up, there was not a single thing in there and we both knew it. I was not going to lean over that stupid toilet, and being pregnant could not make me. Battle won by me. It heaved one more time, promising a rematch later, soon.

Chris had retrieved the phone from whatever corner I had left it in, it was my job to find something in it to make this less violent for me and less distressing for him. "Ok, well, I am not a patient at the fertility clinic any more and they probably won't get back to me for a while, but why not?" Chris made some encouraging remark as I dialed and left a long, exhausted message on the phone explaining what had happened and why they were my only hope for relief. Then I tried the Woman's health clinic. None of the options seemed to fit. I was not a patient yet, I did not want an appointment, I was not part of a study or renewing a prescription from them so I stuck with the "just hang on and someone will be with you" option.

I was directed to a nurse who patiently waited for me to finish my explanation. I was told that the only thing she could make available to me before my appointment with a doctor was a much milder drug. I was grateful for anything I could get and anxiously agreed to try it. "I am going to prescribe that as a suppository, will that be okey?" It was not really phrased as a question. Chris looked at me with disbelief and started mouthing "NO" at me, shaking his head and mildly blushing at the idea. What was I to do? Would the nurse believe me if I told her I could actually keep a regular pill down? Could I keep it down? "NO! NO! NO!" Chris was mouthing, briefly covering his bemused face with his hands. Who was going to have to take it any way, Chris? I shakily said "yes, that will be fine" and hung up. Chris just sat there, looking at me in horror. I thought of telling him that he would have to administer it if he looked at me that way one second longer. I didn't.

I stood up, walked into the stinky garlic, onion, sausage hall and into our bedroom that was beginning to smell faintly similar. I would have pulled out the spray again but I could see the drip marks around the door where my previous spraying enthusiasm had dried. If that hadn't done it, nothing would. I did not close the door because I did not want Chris to think I was shutting him out. We agreed that he would go get the medication when it was ready and I lay back in the bed, wondering how uncomfortable a suppository could be, really. I was constipated (a battle pregnancy had decidedly won despite the copious amounts of prune juice I had been drinking) and couldn't decide if that would have any sort of impact on reaction time. I sat there ideally wondering how large and hard a suppository barf-pill poo would be when my phone began to ring in my hand. It was the fertility clinic!

Glories be! They said they could provide a few more of my old vomit pills to last me till my doctor appointment. They were again reminding me to have the doctor check my thyroid when I told them I had to go, as I was going to go throw up. They continued to talk and I had to abruptly end the phone conversation as I, again, approached the toilet. The customary scene unfolded and as I am sure you are now familiar with how it went, I will not bother to tell you again. Chris came in near the end and I told him of the good news. “No suppository for me” I thought triumphantly. He looked relieved and helped tuck me back in bed promising to leave right then to go get the non-suppository and some juice. I slipped into a hopeful sleep before he was even out the door.

"Knock Knock knock" It was him! Chris! Medicine! I leapt from bed, this time with joy. One bound, then the seco--OPH* I collapsed in front of the door to our bedroom. What was wrong with me? I leaned against the dry drips on the door frame, considering the legs that had just failed me. Only then did it occur to me that I had slept on my back – a no no since the babies were getting big enough to put pressure on my spine and other nerve and blood lines, hence temporarily incapacitating my leg.

Chris entered with the medicine, proud and excited. I greeted him from the floor and he walked in like there was nothing wrong. He was telling me excitedly about the juice and Hot wings (my favorite... but perhaps not today) he had thoughtfully gotten me. I tried to explain to him, there was something wrong with my legs but he seemed unconcerned that his wife was parked on the floor in the bedroom doorway. He gestured me to the bed where I should take the pills and I looked at him helplessly as I tested the leg that had failed me and realized that there was still no feeling or strength in it. Without a pause he simply picked me up off the floor and placed me back in bed (sweet man). He left once more to get a glass for the juice and pill as I massaged my leg. It got better quick, and no sooner had it begun to return to normal than my mouth warned me that I was going to heave again. I stood on my shaky leg and hurriedly passed Chris in the hall. Back in the bathroom. Back in bed. Took the pill and a day of sleep and more pills later, I am reasonably well.

That, my dear friends, has been my battle with pregnancy this week. I would like to say that I won, but I still can't tell.

A special note must be made (and if you are still reading, obviously length isn’t a problem for you) for Chris. By the time he had strangled the medication out of the pharmacy and put me back to bed he had intentionally missed the first bit of his only class that day. Fortunately he could afford to miss that one as it was a guest speaker. Then, as I finally caught the sleep I had missed through the night, Chris went about first wiping the counters and any other practical surface free of the nasty garlic/onion/sausage smell with strong soap. He then gathered up the mound of laundry surrounding the laundry bin and started it through the wash but not before he folded the obviously still fresh two towels back in their place in the bathroom. When I woke he insisted I eat the toast he had prepared for me. The guy is amazing and I am so lucky.

Chris's smile

2008-10-14T11:04:00.000-07:00

Chris can be so genuine and endearing. I am sure people have no idea what lies behind his dimples and red-lipped smile. Chris can be so genuine and endearing. I am sure people have no idea what lies behind his dimples and red-lipped smile.

For instance: take the above picture. While eating dinner I had stuck my tongue out at him as an impetuous tease. Yah, sure there was still a little of the half chewed mouthful I happened to be working on still in my mouth when I did it, but just a little bit of chicken. No harm there. He smirked, which was a deviation from the customary strangled cries of disgust. I should have known that something was up but I, like a fool, congratulated him on his thickening skin. I proudly thought to myself that I was actually breaking him in... I sat there scheming; today tolerance for chewed food tomorrow melted chocolate bars. I was getting somewhere.

We finished dinner and tidied up, me still humming to myself with satisfaction. How did I not notice the lurking mischievous smirk in his smile, the smug invitation to sit and talk for a while? How did I not know? I sat, still delighted with myself and as we talked we casually flipped through some of the pictures we had still in the camera. There was the hurricane that wreaked devastation and destruction every where it went (check it out-sure glad I pulled in the house plants and hid in the bath tub for that one), about the camp out where we played Mario cart and slept in a moving van as a drunken Latin dance raged in the parking space next to us (no pictures of drunken Latin riot, but some of the Nintendo. Oh, and that was us trying to get the bean bag back into the house. Sheesh.). During our chat, nature took its course and it soon became apparent that I needed to visit the... powder room. A girl needs to stay nice and powdery. I daintily excused myself and went to hop off the couch. Chris held me back.

"Chrirriiisss! Gotta’ go!" "No." he said petulantly. "Ha! you can't stop me!" "Oh yeah?!" "Yea!" "Oh Yeah?" "Yea!" "Oh Yeah?" "Yea!" "Oh Yeah?" "Yea!!!!" "Proove it!" I shot off the couch and bolted for the rest room. A night full of surprises, Chris did not even try to hold me back. He calmly traipsed down the hall behind me. I headed for my objective - my throne, if you will. Chris followed and did not stop at the door. Cooley he sat down on the floor with a pleased expression. That is when I realized, to my horror: he was right. He could stop me. I gasped in awe. The brilliance of it, a completely non-violent enforcement of his

will. The camera happened to be in my sweatshirt pocket still so I whipped it out and took that first picture. Ladies and gentlemen, that is the view you can only get when sitting on the pot. Yes, he was going to watch me. Nothing will freeze your bladder faster than an audience.

Apparently that was my punishment for sticking a mouthful of food at him. Sigh.* We'll get there.