The post where I'm glad I have another little one on the way, because Gavin is not a baby anymore. He's 3.

Gavin's birthday week began with the annual Birthday Date with Mommy & Daddy

Destination: Johnny Rockets (because of the free balloons)

This is one of our favorite, favorite traditions with our kids.

One-on-One time: check.

Cheerful kid: check.

"This is definitely my special day" feelings: check.

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On his actual birthday, we had a quiet family dinner with his favorite food and one little buddy from church. (oops, no picture of the friend!)

He requested a Toy Story cake; more specifically, a Sheriff Woody cake, so I improvised with what I could find at home. (That's just a cut-out of Woody from an extra party plate.)

Gift time!

(I don't know what I was doing with my camera settings, but oh well. I still got some cute shots of Big Boy.)

Happy Birthday, Gavin!

We love you so much and you are such a firecracker in our family.

I feel that I must record all of Gavin's nicknames. We are definitely a nick-name family, but somehow this poor child has a ridiculous amount:

Gavey-Goo

Gavely-Goo

Goo goo

Goose

Goosie

Bunny

Bunny Face

then there's Bunner Facer (??)

Lovey-Bunny-Face

Hunny Bunny

(I know, I know...)

Big Boy

G-Boy

And the name Trevor came up with:

Bollychase

(????)

Maybe it needs a more ethnic spelling:

Bali Chez'

Then he created a similar one with

Booshaleb

Either way--what?

Here's to you Gavin, and here's to hoping we don't call you these for the rest of your life.

*I'm remembering this poem I wrote for the Goosie when he turned one, and I still love it.

Private--again.

Hi all.

Just letting you know I am going to put our blog on the private mode again. If you are not currently on our email list and would like to be added, leave a comment!

Thanks!

Children Live Here: A Photo Essay (with captions)

Crooked art in the playroom.

Fingerprints...everywhere.

Artwork...

...on the back of my church work.

Self-explanatory.

Even my owies are Spiderman-adorned.

Lovely little feet.

What 24 Weeks In Utero Looks Like On Us (ya know, me and the baby)

I have never, ever documented my belly growth.

With pregnancies, I mean.

And, since we are nearing the end of my career as an incubator, I figured I should maybe do that sort of thing.

So, I am.

Didn't I ever post this?

Happy New Year stuff:

We had a great New Year's weekend, including a fun visit from my bestie best Molly (roomie from BYU days) who flew in from a blizzard in Salt Lake. I promised her a weekend of warmth, but it was like negative degrees here in "Sunny Arizona". Okay, maybe like 30, but that is just sooo cold for us wimps. Anyway, we did the firecrackers anyway whilst losing toes to the frost...

We had lots of fun with Miss Molly and our kiddos love her.

I didn't take any pics of US together, however.

*Though, she did and, Molly, if you are reading this I would love one of those :)

Of softening

"For last years words belong to last year's language, and next year's words await another voice."

T.S. Eliot

We've started this tradition of having a family theme at the beginning of each year. Last year was "Remember & Respect". This year it is "Soft Words & Soft Voices".

When Steve and I were married, the man of God told us to always remember to use soft words in our home. We were so giddy and starry-eyed that bless-ed day, that this is one of the few things we collectively remember.

We thought it was an interesting admonition at the time, but have since seen the wisdom and need for it. Bless our hearts, Steve and I are both endowed with rather loud voices. I remember as a child, my mom constantly telling me, "Lower your voice, honey. " "Lisa, lower your voice." Even in college, my roommate and I would be up late talking and suddenly her eyes would get big and she would say, "Um, take it down a notch...we might wake the neighbors." Now, I am often found telling many members of my family, "Um, Sweetie, I'm right here. I can hear you."

To add insult to injury, we have a home with two stories and several areas of our home that are "blackout" spots, meaning, you seriously cannot hear anyone at the opposite end of the house when you are there...so we yell. Up the stairs, down the stairs, from the kitchen to the back bedroom....

"Boys! Time for dinner!"

"Paige! Get your shoes! We need to go!.."

"Gavin! Stop torturing your brothers!.."

"Could somebody pleeeease bring me some toilet paper?!"

"Where's my book report?!"

It's exhausting.

So, we have decided to make a conscious effort to work on this. These things will still happen, but we hope that their frequency will decrease.

The irony is that our familial conflicts do not typically occur with raised voices...but, that is where soft words come in. We want to be more aware of what we say and how we say it.

Oh, I remember this talk by Elder Holland.* So perfect. So powerful. So needed in this

world, right? I am reminded in this talk how POW-ER-FUL our words are. Words. He quotes James in the Bible when comparing our tiny, little tongues' influence to that of a tiny, little fire...it's effects are long lasting.

So, that's what we're working on this year. And as resolutions usually go, we are hoping for the best.

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* A few favorite references from this talk:

James 3:10 "Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not so to be."

Ephesians 4:29 "Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers."

The weary world rejoices...

...for yonder breaks, a new and glorious morn.

Christmas!!

Polar Express

A few weeks before Christmas, we surprised the kids with a trip to Williams, AZ to ride the Polar Express. And, instead of opening our jammies on Christmas Eve, we decided to do it early and join in the Polar Express jammie tradition!

(Preston, you make life fun, buddy.)

Hot Cocoa and cookies -- just like the book!!

Paige led the masses in part of the sing-a-long.

Gavin is waving at Santa through the window--we have arrived at the North Pole!

Santa boarded the train and gave each child a silver bell...

...and Gavin rang this bell all the live-long-night.

Good-bye, Santa!