Christmas Eve

I've been meaning to blog about all things Christmas for a few days now. I've also been meaning to get over this lingering cold/cough, meaning to take down the Christmas decorations, meaning to do lots of fun things with my kids over winter break, meaning to...

Instead I've been lying around on the couch, devouring this book and avoiding any and all reasons to leave my house. It's been a very nice, albeit germy winter break.

Christmas was awesome. My brother and sister came down from Prescott and we took full advantage of the warm weather. We spent Christmas Eve day at the Ostrich farm.

Does anyone remember those "Mark Wahlberg Talks to Animals" sketches on SNL? If not, click here. That totally reminded me of Ike... "Hi Donkey. How doin?"

We decided to take the monster truck tour, which never disappoints.

Ostrich feather duster.

Fishing for Ostriches using grapefruit.

After the Ostrich Farm, we returned home and Marie and I cooked up a delicious Christmas Eve dinner of ham, funeral potatoes, green bean casserole, corn pudding, rolls, zatar and the most scrumptious relish tray.

System and Method for Being Happy Even When You Don't Feel Like It

This year, our annual Proffitt Yearbook contribution is a patent for our family, a System and Method for Being Happy Even When You Don't Feel Like It. I've got Clark to thank for coming up with the idea which is half the battle when it comes to these yearbook pages.

We've had a wonderful year filled with too many blessings to name. 2010 was good to us and I'm excited to see what 2011 holds. Happy Holidays!!!

Click to enlarge.

Behind the Scenes

My friend Cherise wisely pointed out that when it comes to family pictures, you only see the end result. The precious few (of hundreds) that have been meticulously edited down with swapped heads, smoothed skin and whitened teeth.* The one perfect photo that ends up on your Christmas card. You never see the throw away images of bored teenagers, cranky children and annoyed husbands. And trust me, there are plenty of those.

And you don't hear about the dirt covered knees or burr infested fields that you go tromping through to get the perfect shot. Or in the case of one of my favorite abandoned shacks last week, the SNAKES you might run into.

I still get the heebie-jeebies thinking about it. He was bigger in real life. And not dead, like we initially thought. Ick.

*In the case of the Garn family who happen to be unfairly photogenic, NONE of that was needed. Seriously, none. Five kids, five beautiful smiling faces in almost every frame. That's unheard of.

Apparatus for Simulating a "High Five"

It's Silly Patent T-Shirt Time!

If you recall, every year Clark gifts a patently absurd t-shirt to his coworkers for the holidays. This works out well. I'm much better at making t-shirts than I am at making cookies and it gives Clark an excuse to spend valuable work hours browsing Google Patents for crazy inventions.

As usual, it was really difficult picking the winner. The runner-ups included a urinal forehead rest, vibrating body jewelry, an anti-eating face mask and one of my favorites, the "Target in a Urinal to Attract the Attention of Urinating Human Males."

But the winner for the Hayes Soloway 2010 Christmas T-shirt is...

Make custom t-shirts at CustomInk.com

I think I need one of these in every room of the house. Next time I change a particularly stinky diaper or start, finish and fold 5 loads of laundry in ONE day, I'll just give myself a little high five.

Thanksgiving 2010

Man, do I love Thanksgiving. Almost even more than Christmas. It's all about food and family without that added pressure of presents. Best holiday ever. Even better if you get to spend it with the Proffitts. We have the best food, hands down. Plus, for the past few years we hold the Proffitt Family Olympics and have a bouncy house/slide. Then when it gets dark, we project a movie onto the side of the house and curl up under blankets with hot chocolate. I love it. Thanks to the Garns and Dunyons for hosting such a fun party.

This year, I was glad to share it all with my brother Danny. On Wednesday, we drove up to Prescott to get him. The boys experienced winter for the first time in their short little memories. I wasn't so great about getting my camera out on Thursday, but I did get some shots of the three legged race and the sack race.

Trigg won by a hair!

Remember when they were all so little!

That night we headed back up to Prescott. The next day, we had brunch with Danny, hit up the candy shop and then went and saw Megamind at the theater. It was good to spend some time with Uncle Dan.

A Note to My Future Pregnant Self

Blogging has felt a little bit like a chore lately, but there are a couple of reasons I keep it up. For one, it's a great form of record keeping. The other day, Clark was wondering why Ike is so slow to potty train and I reminded him that it's no where near time to start. He didn't believe me, so I checked the boys' blog and sure enough, Booker was closer to three years old before we started. Sigh of relief. I've got a few months. And no, I don't care if I have two kids in diapers. You never want to start potty training too early.

Anyways, the point is that I check my blogs all the time to remind myself of certain milestones and sometimes just to reminisce. Today, I want to make a record of something so if I decide to go ahead and have that fourth baby (boy), there will be a light at the end of the tunnel...

I'm nearly 20 weeks pregnant and I'm feeling so. much. better. It's amazing. I'm reminded of the person I used to be. I can finally put in a full day's work around the house and still have the energy to be excited about the America's Next Top Model finale (Ann!?! Really, Tyra?). I'm much happier, much healthier and much muchier in general. So remember this future Margaret, the first trimester is HELL but just endure it because things really do get better.

(Speaking of feeling better, I've been busy designing Christmas cards so put your orders in now. Also, just because I've already seen your card doesn't mean I don't want it hanging on my fridge!)

And in the spirit of pregnant record keeping, at my ultrasound yesterday I was told that I have a low lying placenta which in most cases will resolve itself by the third trimester. In some cases though, it doesn't move and you have to have a c-section. The tech reminded me that I've "been there and done that so you know, no big deal." Except that it is and I'll be incredibly pissed off at my placenta if I end up with another c-section. Any success stories of migrating placentas, blog readers?

Now it would be appropriate for me to end this post with a photo of my "baby bump" like so many of my cute, petite pregnant friends have been doing lately. But I promise you, that photo does not exist. Mostly because there isn't much of a bump but rather an itchy layer of blubber. Just imagine me but even fatter and with really bad skin. JOY!

Acceptance

I bought my first and probably last baby item for BBC (Baby Boy Cubed).

We're taking name suggestions. Begging for name suggestions actually. I've got nothing.

Unrelated- Booker is really into role playing games. Lately, he's been Milo the Cat. Ike is Otis the Puppy. I am the Mama Kitty Who Never Yells at her Kittens or Puppies. With lots of emphasis on the Never Yells at her Kittens or Puppies part. Pregnancy makes me mean(er). Apparently.

Also somewhat unrelated- I really, really, really hate Christmas shopping.

We're Having A...

There are a few advantages to having a mom with bipolar disorder. Like when you're six years old and she starts manically collecting Barbie dolls for you. And not just any Barbie dolls- the Dolls of the World Barbie dolls. I'm not sure how she did it while living overseas (did they have eBay back then?) but for every birthday/Christmas/Passover/Eid/random Tuesday for the next ten years I would get a new doll... or five. I was never allowed to play with them because they were "an investment in my future," but I loved having them nonetheless. I'm especially grateful that my mom saved them for me through every move and didn't toss them out when she found them sitting in the basement of their Provo house a few years ago.

Just a few of the dolls I was able to locate easily. There are a bunch more sitting out in the garage.

So next time my mom forgets my birthday yet again, I'll just remind myself that she shows her love in other ways. Like in the form of Thai Barbie or South African Barbie... Venezuelan Barbie or Russian Barbie! Irish Barbie, Kenyan Barbie, Mexican Barbie... or one of the many Native American Barbies I have.

Anyways, there's a point to all this and the point is this...

I won't be playing Barbie United Nations or Barbie Olympics anytime soon.

That's right. We'll be welcoming another boy into our family. I've had a few days to let it sink in and I can finally share the news without blubbering. Upon finding out, I spent the first five minutes crying, so the ultrasound tech was kind enough to spend 40 minutes making sure that we were looking at a penis and not just an umbilical cord.

There's no denying it, we're having a boy.

Who knows if anyone will ever actually play with all my pristine, international Barbies. For now I'm joining the Mom-of-Three-Boys Club, a club I wanted no part of. But I'm holding out hope... and holding onto my collection.

Boys at Bedtime

So a couple of months ago (when I handed most of my parenting duties over to Clark), we started doing something different at bedtime. Rather than put the boys to bed in their separate rooms, Clark would read to them both in Booker's room and then leave Ike in there. This worked out in some ways- requires only one parent for bedtime, mom can go to bed at seven. And wasn't so successful in other ways- the boys stay up an extra hour playing with each other, Ike ends up in his crib once Booker declares that he is "bugging him too much."

Well, last night I overheard the boys belting out this song and jamming on their ukuleles. Ignore the camera work, Clark was hiding in the bathroom using my phone. I love how they're actually listening to a Primary song.

Happy Halloween!

We did most of our Halloween celebrating yesterday and both our little Spidermen had a blast.

We headed over to the Ward Halloween Carnival where I finally got to wear my Egyptian Queen costume, courtesy of Dr. Ragab's Pharaonic Village and my Egyptian moo-moo courtesy of some little shop on Bab Zuweila street. Now I'm feeling super excited for another trip to Cairo. Clark tried to match as best he could. I ran all over town on Friday trying to track down a Pharaoh costume with no luck. Maybe next year. Mark Anthony and Cleopatra? Sure.

Ike was a little unsure about the hayride. But he loved all the carnival games and came home with a treat bag heavy with candy and prizes.

After the party, we headed back to our neighborhood to trick-or-treat. Booker changed into costume number three, "little boy Anakin." Our neighbor (who is a HUGE Star Wars fan) pointed out that he is actually Pod-Racing Anakin from Episode 1. I was able to confirm this on Wookieepdia ;) I'd like to point out that Booker is obsessed with Star Wars even though he hasn't seen any of the movies.

We came home to a very tired and very adorable Monkey Amara. We loved having Marie and Amara here for Halloweekend. Maybe next year she can trick or treat with us.

Halloween Festivities

Hooray! Let the week of joy school/preschool/ward Halloween parties begin! We kicked it off last Saturday with a trip to the pumpkin patch. Slideshow here.

Today we went to Booker's joy school Halloween party. I can't believe Ike let me dress him up as a chicken. That's my boy.

Then we spent the afternoon carving pumpkins (we meaning me). I don't know why I insist on such elaborate pumpkins. After Dora and Diego two years ago, I swore off super involved designs. Crazy how quickly I forget.

In case you can't tell, that's a Stormtrooper (named Cody according to Booker) and Mr. Blues Clues himself.

My "Not Tonight, Honey" Pajamas

Have you ever thought to yourself, "Hmmm, I wonder what a full grown woman and a lemon sized fetus would look like stuffed into some sock monkey footie pajamas?"

Well, you're not alone because my sister had the same thought when she gifted me with these awesome PJ's for my birthday!

***

The other day Booker was telling me how he was going to share his toy room with his new baby sister (how generous of him) and how he would let her borrow his storm trooper costume occasionally. I interrupted him to point out that we don't know what kind of baby we're having. It could very well be a baby brother he'll be sharing with.

He was quiet for a second and then solemnly proclaimed that, "Jesus will decide."

So here's one for Booker's scrapbook.

I realize this is my fifth post in about a week and I don't think I'll be able to keep up this pace. I reserve the right to quit posting for weeks at a time and still go to bed 8 o'clock every night. Please?

Egypt Race for the Cure 2011

Remember this last year? Well, it happened again and this time my mom was able to participate. Here's a little report from my dad:

"We estimate there were about 10,000 people this year. Survivors got pink t-shirts. We ran into the group from Curves Egypt and threw in a photo with them for Grandma Tueller. There are pictures both up at the top of the plateau where the race started at the lookout point and then down below by the sphinx where it finished."

This makes me so happy! This time last year, my mom was back in Utah in the middle of chemotherapy. She was bald and miserable and sick as a dog. This year, she was able to participate in the race. This year, she is cancer free, has curly hair (it grew back in differently) and her prognosis looks good. This year, she gets to show off the new boobs she got out of the whole ordeal.

This time last year, I was blissfully unaware that I carry the BRCA gene. I thought my risks of breast and ovarian cancer were the same as everyone else. This year, I'm armed with knowledge and a team of cancer specialists who really, really, really don't ever want me to get breast cancer. This year, I get letters from my insurance company gently reminding me that they will cover the cost of a prophylactic mastectomy and reconstruction. This year, I'm happy with my choice to screen for breast cancer and not jump to surgery (maybe in ten years, but not this year). This year, I have much bigger medical bills but I'm hopeful about my future.

For October 2011, I hoping that my sister will have been tested for the gene. She has a 50/50 chance of carrying it. I hope I took one for the team, but the odds don't care about that. She kicked alcoholism's butt, I'm interested to see what she can do with breast cancer.

And because I love my three little brothers so much, I would encourage them to get tested too. Men who carry the BRCA gene have slightly increased odds for breast cancer, prostate cancer and skin cancer. Plus if they have daughters, they could pass the gene onto them. So maybe that can be the plan for Octobers of 2012, 2013 and 2014?

I'm glad you made it, Mom. It was an awful, terrifying and depressing year for you. But let's hope it was just that- one terrible year among many, many happy ones to come.

Hot Air Balloons and Cotton Fields

My neighborhood can be really beautiful. I complain about living in the middle of no where but when I see the hot air balloons soaring over fields of cotton I think to myself, "Man, that's so stunning. I wish I lived closer to a Target."

This morning on the way to the Desert Museum, we saw the balloons as they were landing. It was pretty cool. Almost as cool as the prairie dogs at the Desert Museum. I love those little critters.

And trying to get Booker and Ike to look up at the same time is an impossible task.

Ode to the Pregnant Husband

Pregnancy is hard on me. And I certainly do enough complaining that everyone knows it. So at least I get my share of sympathy and free passes. But, Clark... poor, poor Clark. Pregnancy is harder on him and he doesn't even get to complain. No one ever remembers the poor pregnant husband, do they?

I feel like I've been living under a anti-nausea-med-induced haze the last couple of months and as I come out of it, I'm beginning to realize how much Clark has shouldered on his own. He's been a single parent for quite some time now. Going to work for twelve hours and then returning home to piles of laundry, a dirty house and attention starved children. I wander off to bed leaving him to organize, clean, bathe and bed. AND HE DOES. Every time. Without a word of complaint. It's incredible. He's incredible. I'm incredibly lucky.

Curious, I googled "ode to the pregnant husband" to see if anyone else felt as blessed as I do. Among the top results were articles titled, "Pregnant Woman Stabs Husband in Stomach" and "I'm Pregnant and I Can't Stand My Husband's Odor." I can honestly say I've never been close to stabbing Clark in the stomach which is saying a lot because my hormones have been pretty wacky as of late. And as for the odor thing, I'm pretty sure my odor is worse than his... my legs harrier, my breath stinkier, my overall grooming habits much more questionable.

So thank you, my darling. If it weren't for you, our children would be in protective services, our toilets covered in mold, our fridge devoid of food and I would be... well, probably still stinky and harry and gross unfortunately.

And just because I hate to post without any pictures... here's what my camera has been holding for the last two months.

Marie, Kyle and Amara came to visit Tucson (in August?) and we went to Bedroxx Bowling. It's clear that my complete disregard for personal appearance is rubbing off on my children. Oh dear.

Clark engineered this hands-free double leash so he can take the dogs running in the mornings. It's pretty awesome. There's even a pocket in the back for a water bottle. Don't even think about patenting it. It's ours! (And to our friends, the Bennetts, whose dog we've been watching- this picture was taken before Clark decided it was a good idea to "groom" Kye. I hope you'll decide to still be friends with us when you come back home!)

Here are some shots of Miss Amber's preschool class field trip to the fire station. Did you know that October is fire safety month? Thank goodness for awesome teachers like Miss Amber because otherwise it would never occur to me that Booker is capable of learning how to dial 911. Does anyone else always underestimate their children like I do? I suck.

Dynamite

I tried to get Booker to listen to the new Sufjan Stevens album with me but he heard this Taio Cruz song on the radio and begged me to download it. Have I failed as a mother already?

P.S. I blame my sister-in-law Rebecca. Booker said that his most favorite cousin Dax sings this song. Booker and Dax have shared some awesome musical moments together.

P.P.S. Whoa, I blogged. And I didn't throw up once. I think I see a light at the end of this awfully dark tunnel. So long first trimester, hello second!

Updated Blog Header

I've updated our blog header to better reflect our little family.

Sorry about the lack of posts lately. I've got a good excuse though. Hopefully, I'll be back to blogging when I start feeling better.