"Dih-Doo!"

Okay, so I didn't get a "Thanksgiving Post" done last week, but since it hasn't been a full week since Thanksgiving Day, I figure I can still do it now.

I'm grateful for a lot of things, make no mistake about that. But what my fingers are burning to type about is that cute little Carson of ours. It was Wednesday night. I'd made three pies (turns out I should have made four--that Cherry pie didn't go very far) and I was pooped. No pun intended here, but Ryan was in our room changing Carson's diaper and when he finished, I heard Carson tell him thank you. Only it was "Dih-Doo!" I laughed so hard. Who says thank you for a diaper change, I wondered? But "dih-doo" is kind of his thing right now.

Now don't get too excited, when Annie was less than a year old she used to line up all her animals (or whatever genre of toys she was playing with) in some form of order. Tallest to smallest, you name it! I remember rubbing my hands together with a big smile on my face thinking, A - HA! She'll be neat and orderly! Like Aunt Gretchen! HAH! I have to threaten all sorts of toy-loss and other calamities to get her to clean up now. So, I'm holding no fantasies about how grateful Carsie will grow up to be.

But it was still tender, charming, and cute to hear him thank his dad for the diaper change. And if memory serves, it was not the cleanest of diapers. In fact, I might have heard Ryan gag. Maybe he's pregnant!

Anyway, Carson is going through the "thank you" phase, apparently. What great timing! What better time is there, I ask you, for a tiny boy to be focused on gratitude than at Thanksgiving? "Thank you" has come in very handy for us. It is what I say with my hand outstretched to get him to hand me all his bath toys to teach him to clean up after himself. He says it at the dinner table. He says it to his sister when she gives him the least desireable of all the toys she's playing with (her current version of "sharing"). He has even thanked both Ryan and myself for getting him out of his crib in the mornings. Come to think of it, however, I have yet to hear him thank us for putting him IN his crib. I guess everything must have its limits.

Well, "dih-doo" to Carson for letting me be his mom and for coming into my life! I'm very grateful for my family and all the blessings we have. Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving (as we did) and may you survive and enjoy the coming Christmas season!

The Redecorator and an Early "I Spy" Holiday Treat

Four year olds. Are they all like this? Is it just the girls? Is it just MY four year old girl? She loves to redecorate. I've touched on this before, but I thought I'd highlight it in its very own post. This is a sampling from today:


Do you see how she has incorporated Halloween (ghostie candelabra) and Thanksgiving (hand-made turkey hat from school, lovely fall-themed floral arrangement)? Too bad I didn't wait a few minutes, because after I took the picture and left the room, she kept a-going. I returned to find a naked barbie pole-dancing on the candelabra. Good Grief! If she only knew. . .

Well, on second thought, perhaps the redecorating itch is just one of her talents from birth, because I remember another incident from over a year ago. The following picture is from when Carson was not very old. My breath literally caught in my throat when I returned from the other room. I actually had to check him to see that he was breathing, AND I also had to uncover his face before I snapped the shot. Kids.


And in the spirit of the rapidly advancing holiday, here is a special early holiday game. Don't worry, I'll find time next week to be thankful in my upcoming First Annual Sarah Droubay Thanksgiving Post, but 'til then, I'll just join the myriad of radio stations, department stores, Wal.Marts, and others intent on celebratin' early! Here are two photos of last years' Christmas tree after my dear sweet redecorating Annie got to it. If you feel like playing, leave a comment detailing what YOU spy: Perhaps I've missed something!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RYAN!!!

Ryan's not really big on birthdays, but I'm going to make it public anyway! I just wanted to spotlight him a little and tell you a few of my favorite things about my husband:


1. Hands down, he's a GREAT dad. Since our first baby was born, he's been very hands on--diaper changes, baths, putting them to bed, getting them dressed. And he loves to play with the kids and teach them things. He likes to sing to them at bed-time too and I think that's VERY cool.

(this picture of him with baby Carson is one of my favorites. What a hot dad!)

2. He's funny as heck. Ever since I met Ryan, I've just loved his sense of humor. He can make me laugh harder than anyone else (well, the Office Staff at Dunder Mifflin come close!) He has a great internal Sarah mood-o-meter and when I begin to stress or freak out, he's always quick to lighten the mood and make me laugh. I really love that.

(here he is goofing off with Annie and Dillon)

3. He's a hard worker. He works lots of long hours in the summer time and doesn't always have a lot of time for the things he enjoys to do, but he always finds the time to do the things that need doing around the house. I'm glad the kids have a dad who works hard for them and for our family.

(here he is mowing the lawn with his buddy Annie Goose! Tell me she's not learning how to work from Dad)

4. He is very forgiving, easygoing, and calm about my short-comings. I can't think of a dumb thing I've done where he hasn't said, "it's okay," or "don't worry about it," or something like that. And what's remarkable is that he still does this even though I usually do not respond to his whoopsies in a similar fashion.

(see, here he is kindly demonstrating patience as I take yet another photo of him)

5. I just think he's cute! Check out some of these cute pics:

(here he is with Oma, Opa, and his Dad. I think he looks alot like Carson)

(Lake Powell with his Dad. He's soooo cute! Even with face paint. Even in High School!)


HAPPY BIRTHDAY RYAN! I LOVE YOU!!

Classic Sarah Pregnancy Story

I don't know how the rest of you are, but when I'm pregnant, strange things start to happen. It was not bad with Carson, but when I was pregnant with Annie, I had all sorts of weird dreams, food aversions, and the like. Probably the most odd thing was that once I'd cooked a certain meal for dinner, I could not eat (or even think) about that food or meal again for weeks. There is one thing--a pork medallion with sour cream and chive sauce with sesame seeds on top--that I still cannot think about. I thought it was all pretty strange, but I'm assured that this is normal for pregnant women. And there are probably weirder things out there than I have to deal with.

But here's my gripe: Isn't it bad enough we have to grow to triple our size (I know that's not really how big we are, it just seems that way), be moody, and not to mention go through the delivery process? Why must we also be subject to the strangeness that only adds to why others in our lives find themselves wanting to avoid us? Beats me.

So, here's my latest classic example of weird. (and funny, I guess, now that it's two days later and I've gained a smidgeon of perspective since then)

It was Saturday and we were headed to our little buddy Dillon's b-day party. I decided to BMOB--it was one of those "gotta have the diet Dr. Pepper from the market" days (see "tagged" blog). So off we went to the Market. I went inside to procure the drinks. There were three pre-teen/teenage boys ahead of me at the drink-filling station. So I waited (patiently at first, not so much as the minutes lagged on). I began to notice things about these boys: they were dirty--which I at first attributed to their age, but later, when I was thinking about it, I thought of our cousins Zach and Dallin who are this age and I've NEVER seen them look or smell anything remotely like this. Maybe their parents have, but I can't imagine them being this poorly groomed. But alas, I digress. . .

Anyway, I started to notice their dirty fingernails. And untrimmed fingernails, I might add. Their clothes were dirty, hair probably unwashed.

And then it happened. . .

Right there in the middle of the Vine Street Market, I began to gag.

Yes, you heard me right. I began to gag. I tried to keep it to myself, but I kept thinking about how they were touching the buttons I was going to touch, occupying space I would occupy. These are not normal thoughts (but as I said, strange things start to happen when Sarah is pregnant). One gag lead to another. I did not know how I would control it. I began to think, I should probably go to the car and ask Ryan to get the drinks, but it seemed at this point I'd been in the market already 20 minutes (probably only 5 at max). I didn't want to lose my place in line. So anyway, there I stood, with my hand over my mouth, gagging away at these disgusting pre-teen boys.

And then the next emotion hit. I started to look at their clothes and think about how their mommies or daddies probably bought them and how much their parents love them, and how awful for those parents that I was standing there thinking their precious children were soooo gross. Who did I think I was? I've been known to skip a shower here and there, and sometimes my fingernails are long and dirty. Of course I DO try to wear clean clothes. But nevertheless, I started to feel sooo guilty.

And then I began to cry. I thought to myself, "you've GOT to be kidding me! Get ahold of yourself! What is wrong with you?" Again, I tried to hide it and for a good minute or two, I stood there waffling between utter gagging disgust (and trying to hold in where THAT would lead us. . .) and crying silently out of self-hate and despair for the horrible judgments I was extending to someone else's precious children.

It was awful. I really don't know why I stayed in the Market.

But finally, they left and I stepped forward to take my turn. Remember, they'd been there awhile and it seemed to me that it took them forever to leave. Well, the same could be said for the stench that accompanied them. Now I'm pregnant, remember, so some of this odor's apparent potency could be blamed on that, but holy cow! Whatever or whomever was to blame, it was awful! I really don't know how else to describe it. I thought I would die. So once again, I'm gagging one second, and then thinking about how hurt their parents would be if they knew some snotty pregnant lady was gagging at the smell of their children and my eyes teared up again. I was barely hanging on at this point.

It was at this very moment that my friend Frank (who I didn't know was there) stealthily stole up behind me to scare me. His sudden greeting was to be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

I started bawling. It couldn't be stopped. So there he stood looking quite startled (and perhaps frightened himself) as I blubbered my nonsensical story to him. I think it went something like this: "I'm pregnant Frank, and these kids took forever. They were smelly *sniff sniff *and dirty *sniff sniff*, but they have parents who love them, *sniff sniff* and they bought them their clothes, *sniff sniff* and I felt bad and . . ."

I'm shaking my head now just thinking about it.

I'm sure he thought I was crazy, and then went home and told his wife she was never to be pregnant ever again! Or maybe he just shook his head and laughed to himself, "hah! pregnancy!" Who knows! His wife did tell me on Sunday (with a smile and a giggle) that he told her about it. So apparently, he wasn't too traumatized. That's good!

So I got the drinks and returned to the car. Ryan just gave me that "NOW what?" look. I started to tell him the story and started bawling again! In fact, I couldn't think or talk about this event for several hours without breaking into tears. Good grief!

I wonder what the next few weeks and months will bring. . . . . . .

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

We can hardly believe it's Halloween. It seems like we were just weeding the garden and sweating like crazy.

Carson doesn't speak much yet (other than "Carson", "ball", "come", "go", "mom", "Sarah", "dad", "CAR!!! (when he sees any motorized vehicle), "uh get down", "moh (more)" SOOOO he did not get to request a costume. He got to wear what fit him in our costume collection, which turned out to be Annie's spider costume from three years ago. Annie was a different story. I asked her what she wanted to be for Halloween back in September and she said, "a jellyfish." I thought, this will be a challenge. I had a few ideas, but I talked to my sister-in-law, Beth, and she suggested using a clear bubble umbrella. Great suggestion, Beth! (And if you are interested, Target.com has several options and trim colors to choose from). The rest of the costume we made up as we went. Here are my scary little spider and squishy jellyfish:




Carson was not a fan of the hat. He didn't really cooperate for pictures until I took it off:



Here is my little jellyfish again. This jellyfish enjoys chasing people and trying to "sting" them:

A Mother's Love

This is how much I love my daughter: She asked if she could do my hair. I saw an opportunity. . . as she combed it, I screamed and screamed and carried on like I was being tortured to death. Sound familiar? Though, in fairness to her, she DOES have very curly hair and I'm sure it does hurt her much of the time. I doubt, however, that it is akin to being skinned alive--which is what her yelps and howls would have you believe. I even let her take a picture (hers is on the right)

So, here I am in my early morning splendor (I know I need to pluck so whatever!). I thought that you would enjoy a sampling of my 4-year old's stylistic abilities. She's destined for greatness, no doubt! She was so funny. She kept saying things like, "you look so fabulous, so fantastic. . . " Where do they get this stuff?

Ryan's Tag From Greg

Me: Ryan, are you going to respond to Greg's tag?

Ryan: I don't blog.

Me: Then I'll do it for you. (audible evil chuckle)

Ryan: Not as if I'm writing it! (menacing grumpy "I have my man card to think about" tone)

Me: No, I'll write it about you.

Ryan: Silence that was interpreted as permission.

YEAH!

6 Unimpressive Quirks About Ryan

1. He can (with no help from his fingers) make both his second toes piggy back on top of his big toes simultaneously. I think it's really weird. The first time he did it I was like, STOP THAT! You're freakin' me out, man!

2. He has a "sock system": On any given day, he dons two pairs of socks. The first pair (referred to hereafter as "the inside sock") goes on the foot. The second pair (which we'll call "the outside sock") is placed over the inside sock. The day comes and goes. At night, the inside sock is placed aside to become the outside sock the next day. The outside sock from that day is tossed into the dirty clothes. The next day, a new fresh pair is secured from his sock drawer to become that day's inside sock. It is because of this ingenious "sock system" (and the fact that it is always a clean fresh sock that is next to his foot) that he claims his feet do not carry an odor. I beg to differ. All feet smell. All feet. It's a fact.

3. Moving on from the feet to the arms: Ryan tickles his arms in his sleep. He denies this, but hello! How would he know? He lays on his back and one arm (usually the right arm) is stretched out to the ceiling at a 90 degree angle from his body and his left arm is tickling it. It's hilarious.

4. He has an amazing memory. He can learn something once and forever it remains accessible in his brain. I'm not kidding. It's not a photographic memory by any means, but it is pretty cool. I'm the cram-for-the-test kinda learner and I do retain some things--like the stuff that makes sense to me, and then after the test, *poof* it's gone. But he remembers it all. It's crazy!

5. Ryan can do perfect impressions of people. Serious! He has a great ear for it. Some of my favorites are Sean Connery, any Scottish accent for that matter, James Earl Jones, Ted Kennedy, John McCain, James Carvill, George Stephanopolous, and Opa's whistle. Awesome! We all love that whistle. It exudes such happiness and enjoyment of life.

6. He can ride a horse like it's nobody's business. I know that this is supposed to be a list of "unimpressive quirks" but even though I often TRY to read his mind, I don't have access to the funny stuff only he knows about. So I'll add an impressive talent for the last one. Holy moly, he looks good on a horse. It's very impressive. Especially when the horse has other ideas and would buck or throw anyone else. Nope, not Ryan, and it is very entertaining to watch him stay on. I've only seen him get bucked off once. And it was when he was sitting on his donkey with no saddle and I came up behind and smacked the donkey on the bum just to get a laugh. And I did.

I, Ryan's not-spokesperson, elect to not tag anyone new.