3 Months already

I cannot believe that Anna is three months old today. It seems like she just joined my little family while at the same time I cannot imagine how I ever lived without her. She is so sweet and mellow. I thought James was an easy baby but she puts him to shame. I love her smiles, gurgles, and little laugh.

James and Jesus

James has a limited but growing vocabulary. For several weeks now he has been saying "Jesus" everytime he sees a depiction of the Savior. A few days ago he started saying his own name. The problem is that both James and Jesus start with a "J" and end with a "S" so that at times it is very difficult to figure out which name he is saying.

Christmas Lights

Tonight James, Anna and I along with Brigham's two sisters went to see the lights on Temple Square. James loved the lights and was quiet pleased to have both Aunt Amanda and Aunt Rachel showering him with attention, chasing him around, and swinging him between them as they walked. I am extermely grateful they were there to chase him around otherwise I am sure I would have lost him or had a very grumpy boy stuck inside a stroller. Brigham will be happy to finally see pictures of me with James and Anna.

Alone

Being alone has never really bothered me, I actually like it, especially when my children are asleep. And I can handle loneliness, or so I thought. But there is nothing more lonely then packing a box to mail with a Christmas present to mail to my husband because he will not be with me on Christmas, or my birthday four days before Christmas or our anniversary three days after Christmas. At least when my daughter was born he was on the phone with me. But to think of spending those three days without him... Oh, we will talk on the phone but it is not the same. And I know that it will be worse for him. I at least have the children to hug and play with while he has an M-16 in a country far far away and then I think of everything that he has missed: our sons first steps, his first birthday, watching him grow and learn everyday, physically being there for the birth of our daughter, not holding her until she was three weeks old and not being able to hold her again until she will be six months old. I could go on but it makes me cry.

The Joys of Dirt

Since having a child, I have noted a sad lack of parks in the area we live. And the ones that are nearby (closest is a 1/2 mile walk across two busy streets) are, quite frankly, pathetic. Over the past two months I have also noticed that not one park in a 15 mile radius have a sandbox. What is a childhood without sandboxes? And what is a mother with a son devoted to sand and dirt to do? Answer: improvise. In our backyard there are three garden boxes. We have planted in two of them and left the third empty due to the poor yield of that box last year. Today I cleaned up that bed, turned over the dirt, sprinkled so water on it and placed my son inside. He was overjoyed to have his very own dirt/mud box and he had so much fun (and did not try to pull up my cabbages) that I did not mind the mud cover toddler that resulted.

Domestication

In the two years that I have been married, I have found myself becoming more and more domestic (having children increases it more). During my single years I was perfectly content to eat a quick meal, sometimes just toast and a can of green beans and pick up whatever looked good at the grocery store or just grab something to go. But that would not satisfy my husband. So now I plan weekly menus, make shopping lists, cook full dinners, clean the house almost every day, and make jam. Yes, I make my own jam. It started about a year ago when the apricot tree in our backyard exploded with fruit. My husband picked them and taught me how to make jam (he comes from a large family where making jam and canning food from the garden was an annual event). A few months later the plum tree came into production and my husband's aunt gave us three bushels of apples from her tree. With his help, we make plum jam, apple sauce, apple butter, and plum apple butter. Then yesterday I, on my own, made strawberry jam and I am contemplating make raspberry as well. I really don't like jam all that much. I rarely put it on toast or make PBJ sandwiches. But my husband can go through a jar of jam a week. It make economic sense to make my own. I just never thought that I would. But I have to admit that homemade jam tastes a whole lot better than store bought.

Importance of housework

I am usually very good about keeping my house clean, a task made much easier with my husband deployed. For some reason my housework doubles when he is home but I have to say I perfer more housework to him being gone. Now I do most of the housework after my son goes to bed. It usually takes less then an hour and I am very diligent, the toys are put away, the floor vacuum, dishes washed and put away, bathroom cleaned, clothes folded and put away, and the furniture dusted. I don't all those things every day except the dishes and the toys but rotate them through the week so that everything is done at least once a week. Everything but mopping the kitchen floor. I hate to mop. It does not take long but it is the thought of having to move everything off the floor, mop, let it dry, then return everything to the kitchen. If I am being good it gets mopped once a month. But then my son let me know the floor needs to be mopped once if not twice a week: he wants to eat off it.