Overheard

If you were a fly on our walls, you would have heard the following within the last week:

Brent: "Keith, don't cry. If Cole punches you, just punch him back. Crying won't help you."











Cole: "I smell like a puppy dog, Keith."
Keith: "I smell like a puppy dog, too."

Cole: "Are you pushing the shopping cart, Keith?"
Keith: "It's the 'food of generosity'".

Me: (at 8:30 a.m.) "Eat your cupcake first, Keith. Then you can get down and play.


Brent: (over dinner and surprised) "This is really good, Darc--it looks like dog food, but I like it."

Cole: "I'm saving Keith and Ally! I don't want them to get burned up. I'm saving them from the dragon!"


Cole: "Time-out makes me tired."

Cole: "Mom, can you go clean the kitchen?" (Translation: Mom, can you go away so I can look for trouble?)

Cole: "My earrings are falling out." (he means head phones)


Keith: "I want to listen to Tarzan on my head cones."


Ally: "Yeah!" In answer to any question, this is how she responds. She also loves to say "Hi" to everyone and anyone.
And she has added, "What's that?" (sounds like 'essaaaat') as she points to things about 1,000 times a day and expects an answer every time.

Keith: "Do you want to come sleep on the bottom with me, Cole?"
Cole: "Yeah, Keith. I want to come sleep on the bottom with you."
We just got bunkbeds for the boys, so everyone is adjusting to this change which includes an enormous lack of sleep. But the boys are sooo excited and spend hours climbing up and down on their new ladder.

Keith: (just waking up from a nap) "I'm all sweaty. I'm sweaty like Dada."

Cole: "My fingers are in my ears."
Me: "Why are your fingers in your ears?"
Cole: "Because my head is open."

Look Who's One

Rather than make excuses for my 2 month blog-hiatus, I'm just going to delve into today's reason for celebrating: Baby Ally's Birthday. If my only daughter's first birthday can't bring me back into the blogosphere, what else will?

The festivities began yesterday when Buck and Emily were able to have cake and open presents with us.

(Emily scored extra points with Ally for giving her some licorice. As if Ally needs any more reasons to be crazy about Emily.)


Ally was way more interested in bouncing on top of the wrapped presents than finding out what was inside, but Keith was eager to help show her how to tear off the paper so eventually she was able to get to the goods. (Cole in the picture). She was spoiled rotten as usual by Grandparents, Great-Grandparents, Aunts, honorary aunts, and a soon-to-be-aunt. Needless to say, Ally is well-loved. As are all of her new toys by Keith and Cole, who spent the better part of today fighting over who got to push around her new pink shopping cart and who gets to push the pink buttons on her new Little People house and who gets to build with the pink and purple blocks in her princess carriage.

I debated as to whether or not I should post this picture for fear it would haunt Brent's dreams--as if it's not enough that Cole wants to have a "Princess Party" or insists on drinking out of Ally's "Princess" sippy cup. To watch Brent squirm when Cole talks about princesses is one of the funniest things I have ever seen. It absolutely cracks me up. Here, Keith has commandeered the shopping cart, but you can see that Cole is closing fast.

In addition to breaking up fights, I spent the morning attempting to give Ally a fresh new look for her special day. After several failed attempts at pigtails, she ended up with this rather Bam-Bam-ish pony on top of her head that didn't even last through her morning nap. Sometimes I question if I'm fit to be the mother of a girl. I just pray she can do her own hair soon. Lucky for her, she has some really cute little curls going on, so that usually distracts people from noticing that her mother is truly lacking in the hairstyling skill department.

In a rare moment today (and only because I was peeling both brothers off of her) Ally got to push around her shopping cart. The training of shopping starts early and is taken seriously in this family. I'm sure Ally has it in her genes to keep up with her Smart aunties. Don't worry ladies, training day is here. Ally is taking several steps on her own now. It won't be long before she takes each store by storm. Look, she can already wave and push her cart at the same time--a born multi-tasker.

In true Ally-fashion, bedtime was prolonged for the fifth day in a row, due to the fact that she is a true party animal. I foolishly tried to put her to bed before her brothers. She goes down like a champ if her brothers are already in bed, but anytime I try to put her down first, she fights hard and simply refuses to go to bed. Ally has to be the most persistent and determined little person I know. If she wants something, she finds a way to get it. She doesn't care what she has to climb over, under or through and she doesn't care whose elbow, fist or foot she has to endure, she finds a way to get what she wants. I love her for that and I fear her for that.

Tonight as I reflected on this day a year ago, I couldn't help but be grateful that it's August 9, 2010 instead of August 9, 2009. Partly because I wouldn't want to endure the post-partum recovery and sleep schedule again, but mostly because I'm so grateful for the last 365 days I've been able to spend with this little lady. She makes me smile every day. And even though I've been known to refer to her in certain circles as Ally Oops, I can't imagine my life and our family without her. She was meant to be in our family and it just seems like she's always been with us. Her face literally lights me up. Keith and Cole are equally enamored with her, as evidenced by their constant squeezes, smacks, kisses, kicks, petting and punching. They are always asking, "Where's Baby Ally?" and begging for her to come play on the couch with them. Considering the picture below depicts a typical "couch game", is it any wonder Ally has begun to shy away from participating?

Brent has already informed me that he will have no part in disciplining her. He claims he renders himself completely incapable of doing such a thing. He is utterly smitten with her and cannot even walk by her without smothering her in kisses. So, wish me luck as the toddler stage looms and pray for me when she turns 13. I'm on my own.

At any rate, we don't know where we'd be without each of our three babies. Although after looking at these pictures today I realize that I cannot really classify them as babies anymore...Swallow...Sigh...Smile.

Bring on Boston!!

This is my first blog entry, but since I know Darc would never put anything about herself on here, I felt the need to inform her loyal followers of the level of awesomeness she displayed yesterday at the Newport Marathon.

Darcee finished her first Marathon in 3 hours and 31 minutes, earning her a qualifying spot at the Boston Marathon in 2011. To put that in perspective, she ran 26.2 miles and averaged about 8 minutes per mile. I have been running a little bit too. I average 10 minutes per mile when I go on my long runs of about 3 miles. Darc ran 26.2 miles at an 8 minute clip. This should clear up any questions about why I don't run with her.

Her time of 3:31 was good enough to place 4th in her division and 11th overall out of about 300+ women in the race. I haven't done the official math yet, but I believe her time puts her in the top 40 of all 800+ runners in the race, men included. Did I mention this was her first marathon? Did I also mention that she had a baby 8 months ago and has trained relentlessly through the cold and rainy Portland winter, despite averaging 5-6 hours a night of sporadic sleep?

For those that care, I'll give you the play by play. Thanks to Emily and Grandpa and Grandma Burnett for staying with the kids, Darc and I were able to go over to Newport on Friday evening so that Darc could relax a little bit before the race started the next morning.

The race started at 7am in Yaquina Bay State Park on a beautiful crystal clear morning on the Oregon coast.

Darc was pretty nervous throughout the week, but by the time the race started, she had her game face on and was ready to take it to the streets of Newport.

Darc ran hard and fast from start to finish, undoubtedly being inspired by the "Marathon Mix" iPod playlist that I created for her the night before. Michael Jackson's "Beat It" was the lead off song. I knew there was a risk of her starting too fast with a lead off song with that much power, but it was a risk I was willing to take. She managed to control the fury and keep her pace over the entire race.

This guy, like many others, was wishing she'd controlled the fury a little more, since she passed him at mile 17 like he was standing still. I heckled him as she went past, "hey, 833, that's my wife that just passed you!" "This is her first marathon!" "She has 3 kids at home, including an 8 month old!" "What's your excuse?"

I'm kidding, there was no verbal heckling, the look of shame on his face said enough. I'll send him this picture though and tell him not to be ashamed since Darc beat most of the other men in the race too and that making Darcee's highlight reel should be considered an honor. Seriously though, can you believe this girl had run 17 miles at this point?

Darc kicked it into high gear after mile 17 and made up ground on a lot of the weaker runners in the race. She proudly told me after the race that nobody passed her after mile 15, but that between miles 15-26, she passed a lot of the women (and men) who had started out ahead of her.

I knew she had to get in before 3:40 to qualify for Boston, so as the clock crossed 3:30 I started to get really nervous. I hadn't seen her since mile 17 and was worried that she may have suffered a setback at the tail end of the race. Much to my relief, she came across the finish line at 3:31 to the raucous cheers of her fan club (Me, Cole, Keith, Ally, Grandpa and Grandma Burnett, Clint, Julie, Wee Man, and Buck and Emily). It was so great to have them down to cheer her on. Not only did it mean a lot to Darcee, but they were all so much help with the kids so that I could focus on being Darcee's coach, mentor and inspiration (I'm sure Darc would use those same words to describe me).

Anyway, after crossing the finish the line, Darcee still had the energy to snap photos with me and the kids.

Darc will undoubtedly be embarassed by my shameless bragging, but I honestly could not have been prouder of her today and can't wait to watch her run in the historic Boston Marathon next April.

What happened to May?

I truly don't know where the month of May went. You would think time would drag considering the entire Pacific Northwest has been encompassed in an eternal, bucket-pouring rain cloud, but yet another month has zipped by us.

Brent took Keith and Cole on their first Father and Son campout with our ward. They had a blast and actually slept. It must have been the magic of the Woody and Buzz sleeping bags.

Ally has mastered berry-eating, stair-climbing and cruising. I often find her peering at me triumphantly from the top of the stairs...

Aunt Syd came for a much, much needed visit. We chatted, ate and shopped as only Smart girls know how to do. I miss you, Syd! Come back!!!

And for Memorial Day Weekend, we fit in some R and R in between eating and more eating. Katie and Jenny even made an Ally Sandwich, which of course she loved. :)

Here's Ally with her favorite babysitters. Emily (far right) will be Ally's aunt this August. We are so lucky. Emily is just as beautiful inside as out--seriously, I'm not just saying that. We can't wait for her to be part of the family! Maybe then we'll let her re-negotiate her babysitting fee. :)

The rest of the weekend was fun, too. Cousin Caden and the boys couldn't get enough bubbles.






There is some evidence that Caden preferred K and C's chocolate milk to the bubbles. I caught him red handed with not one, but both stolen sippies. I think he just couldn't decide. Good choice, buddy. :)

Here we go, June...Ready or not.

It's Not Mother's Day Anymore

There are several reasons why I am acutely aware that it is NOT Mother's Day anymore. Let me highlight a few...

1. Keith and Cole got up an hour earlier than usual.

2. I changed 7 diapers (5 of which were poopy) before morning snack time. (Unless I'm running a daycare, that seems like an unfair statistic.)

3. I found my toothbrush buried in a pile of whiskers dumped out of Brent's electric razor.

4. I later found my toothbrush being used to "clean" our office chair.

5. I cleaned up a mountain of spilled rice and a broken bowl off the kitchen floor.

6. I cleaned half a tube of trial-size toothpaste out of the carpet and off Ally's face.

7. I didn't get a run in this morning. (That is never a good start to my day.)

8. Ally refused to take a morning nap.

9. I have innumerable loads of laundry calling my name. I'm obviously still ignoring them.

10. My bedroom floor currently looks like this. The fact that I have been avoiding the task of crawling into the attic to return the Easter stuff caught up with me today when Cole discovered it so neatly tucked away in a corner of my room. He did ask before getting all of it out and I didn't have the strength to say 'no'. I guess now I just need the strength to clean it up...

(That's Keith in the picture.)

11. It's 1:16 in the afternoon and I haven't showered or brushed my teeth. (For obvious reasons, I might be forgoing the brushing teeth thing until I can round up a clean toothbrush or get to the store. The boys' latest obsession with "brushing" their teeth has depleted my once well-stocked toothbrush supply.)

I am in mourning. Perhaps because yesterday was such a perfect day, the typical chaos of today seems out of place when in fact, the chaos is exactly where it should be and always is: right here. Since the kids are too small to really recognize Mother's Day, the onus was upon Brent to make it special and he delivered on all accounts. I slept in, took my time getting ready for church (which meant my hair was washed and I did get to brush my teeth), ate a delicious breakfast, got a 2 1/2 hour nap (I know, pure indulgence), ate a mouth-watering BBQ meal, watched a movie and snuggled with the boys while Brent cleaned up and then I sat and read a pile of magazines: Competitor, Crate and Barrel, and Real Simple. The day could not have been more perfect.
If only every day was Mother's Day. Well, I'm just holding out for another 364 more days. Let the countdown begin.