Wedd'n.

Finally got wedding photos up!
See them here.

A gem.

She's a terror, but we can't stop staring.

A Good One.

Grace is a little sick today so I kept her home.

Three of us are still not wearing pants and I'm not going to say who.

Ruby's dirty little feet have made their way many places this morning, including my face.

We've been eating homemade cinnamon bread straight since 9 a.m.

Lillie has left me alone now for a record 20 minutes.

I wish Grace could be sick every day (well not really but you know what I mean).

Jared, married.

A beautiful and wonderful time had by all. Above, my brother Jared and I. Below, who even knows.
Below, Bethany playing with Lillie. Thank you to each and every person who helped me with her over the weekend!
Sisters listening to Dad tell a story.
Lills being ridiculously babyish and etible.
Hm. A baby and a dumpster. Somewhere between Sacramento and Monterey.

I have photos. Lots of them. I am going to finish editing the wedding ones before I post. At the rate I am working, it will be next week.

Lills was a terror but that did not stop us from having a rip roaring time. Every single time I go to California I feel it whisper my name in the wind, "Sarah.... welcome home...."

Seriously, that place has so much to offer.

Plane ride was "fine", meaning Lillie did not vomit or have explosive diarrhea during any flight, no one turned around and complained and all the flight attendants were nice. Nice, as in they gave her lots of apple juice. So much so that she blew out her diaper on the drive home from Orlando at 10:30 p.m. Sunday night. That was a fun clean up in the driveway at midnight. But hey, at least I have a driveway. A driveway that is connected to a house that contains my bed. The big comfy one with perfect pillows. They sang me to sleep.

Back to soccer practice, a van that overheats, and this hot Florida weather that threatens into early November. Curses.

Life really is good.

Wedding #252

(Photography by my sister, Hannah)

Me and Lillie are leaving tomorrow for yet another one of my sibling's weddings (and surprisingly, not the last of the year. My sister's is in November). This time, it's Jared. There are three girls that start out our family. Rachel, me, Hannah, and then came Jared. The concepts that we treasure were forced upon him as a child. Things like, if we cry, just go with it. Don't ask questions. The small things can really set us off. If we hit you, do NOT hit back. You will pay emotionally. We always go first and get the most.

He may have seen these truths as a hindrance. But I bet money that now he is thankful with every bone in his body that we taught him well. Taught him how to manage women. 'Cause he's going to be the greatest husband.

And Lynn-- don't even get me started. When she told me that he taught Sunday School in their ward and sometimes got a little long-winded and she would give him hand signals from the back to shorten his lengthy sermon, I knew she was the one. She had to be the one.

They're getting married in the Sacramento Temple and I get to do the photography! So Lillie and I leave from our house at 3 a.m. and will enjoy a nice leisurely 7.5-hour plane ride to the other coast. Let me just say, she does not like to sit on my lap. For any amount of time. Unless in a dead sleep (but I don't have the heart to drug her with dimetapp).

Like the three other cross country plane rides taken this year, it'll be a marathon.

Disneyworld.

These two love going here, it's their absolute favorite.
It's not Lillie's happy place, however.

Thrilling 15mph turns in the parking lot tram!
In the monorail, almost there.
Can't we just go home so I can walk circles in the house? My whining is heard and responded to more readily there.



And below, Jake holding Ruby a little too high. The look on Ruby's face, hilarious.
That's better.

I remember thinking in March that we shouldn't buy season passes to Disney, we should just save our money for something else. I am so glad we didn't.

Dischord

At what point will they realize they absolutely cannot navigate through this life without each other?

That point was definitely not today. They fought like a couple of crude irish vikings. And some of it was just plain laughable because all they did was recoil and sob like they had some sort of crying disorder.

Even as I write this they're still crying in their beds. Grace muttering something about "needing her space".

Ruby is sad because Grace won't let her drape her stinky toes all over her side of the bed (theirs are pushed together. Part of the problem? Perhaps).

Small problems, big drama. But isn't that everyone?

I am determined to show them how much they need each other and (should) love each other, just not sure how.

Being Tough.

We're thinking about you, girlie. Every minute of the day. Hang in there.

xoxo,
Dad Mom Ruby and Lills

We try.

Look at them. They're a brood. A troop. A nest of goslings. Thriving and writhing.

Lillie abuses us. Like, physically. She hits a lot, and I try to discipline her a little bit more each time. But I lack the backbone that is necessary to make a real change.

Today Ruby yanked Lillie's binky out of her little mouth and flung it, drool splattering everywhere, against the far wall. And in case someone wonders, no, there was no reason. Lillie took two giant steps and with all the power that her tiny back could gather, slapped Ruby on the forehead.

She kind of deserved it and I kind of giggled.

It's just the way things go.

Mm.

Pulling into the driveway after picking up Grace from school is pretty good-- but better, is walking through the door. We kick off our shoes, Grace is in her pajamas within minutes with an open Doritos bag always nearby and Ruby is relieved and occupied.

Love our snacks, love our home, love our girls.

Missing something.

Do you think I need a new dustpan? Do you?

What possessed my husband to run over/step on/throw/smash (who really knows what happened out in the garage that night) my $3 dustpan? What might be the momentus events leading up to such destruction? Did this have to happen?

And the biggest question. Who leaves a smashed up dustpan leaning respectfully against the cement wall of the garage without-a-mention of it's demise? WHO? Just leaning there next to it's broom whistlin' dixie like nothing in the world is wrong.

So now I'm using this dustpan as is. Yes, I buy $10 per block mozzarella cheese but I don't take the time to replace my dustpan. That I use EVERY SINGLE DAY.

It's just the way my mind works (or doesn't).

But seriously, WHO? and WHY?

Her busy day.

A mother already.
With eyebrows of a greek goddess.