Some Memories of Carrie

(I borrowed this picture from the Family Website)

Heidi wrote a really great post about Carrie today on her blog, and rather than clog up her comment box, I decided to do my own little post with some of my favorite memories about Carrie. Some of them Heidi already mentioned so go check that out, if you haven't yet.

I have a vest that I got for $3 at The Gap that always reminds me of Carrie; she had a matching one. We bought them together on a trip to the big mall in Denver.

When Carrie came to visit over 4th of July, she, Roz and I built our own fireworks*, according to Craner tradition. We had some pretty big explosions. We went to the local firework display where we happened to sit behind my friend Matt. Ever straight-forward, Carrie told him, "You're hot!" but then acted like I was the one who said it. I think he believed her...

Carrie helped me through a lot of crazy things when I was at school in Orem. She showed up to see me at the emergency room right after they told me I was either having a miscarriage or twins. Both of those sounded horrible to an emotional pregnant girl, so of course I started bawling. Carrie popped in right then and helped me calm down and stayed with me for about three hours until they figured out what was going on. She also called our boss, who happened to be a bishop, to come give me a blessing.

It's hard to believe it's been two years since The Accident. Sometimes that day seems like a distant memory, but all the good memories seem like they happened last week. I hope Carrie knows how much all these memories mean to me, even though I didn't get to tell her while she was here.

*Making fireworks involved taking existing fireworks apart, putting the powder into a toilet paper tube (or a paper towel tube if you wanted a big one), sticking in a fuse, taping it shut, lighting it, and running like the dickens to find a "safe zone." Here we are looking at one of the "duds."

Left to right: Me, Roz and Carrie (I wish more faces could be seen...)

Wheeee! and Waaaah!

We went camping last night in Mackay. The in-laws go up there every weekend during the summer (not just June, July and August; they start in May and go clear through September and sometimes into October). They've currently got a ten-day trip going, which is how we were able to see them in the middle of the week. Most of the time in Mackay is spent four-wheeling, while some is set aside for eating and lounging in the air-conditioned camper.

We slept in a tent*, because the in-laws haven't decided on which gigantic camper they'd like to get when they upgrade, and the current camper is too small for everybody. The boys enjoyed the tent. They bounced on our air mattress**, which unfortunately didn't have much air in it because the batteries in the pump were weak. David and I lay down with the boys in an attempt to get them to sleep; it was futile. David tried rubbing Owen's back to soothe/calm him. Owen, in turn, started rubbing Drew's back, and Drew started rubbing mine. It was very cute, but no one was getting any sleep, so David and I left the boys to themselves. Drew seemed to fall asleep at once, and Owen, after screaming bloody murder for about five minutes, followed suit.

After chatting with the in-laws and their relatives for a while, David and I finally went to join the boys in the tent. The boys left just enough room on the air mattress for one person, and David was gentlemanly enough to let me have it. I wish I could say it was comfortable, but it was probably the worst night's sleep I've had. Perhaps ever. Because the air mattress was slightly deflated, I sunk through to the ground, surrounded by puffy mattress, so I couldn't really roll over. Also hindering my movements was Drew, who apparently needed to snuggle with someone. He wouldn't snuggle with Owen, though; Owen tosses and turns in his sleep, and at one point ended up with his head on Drew's stomach, thus causing Drew to wake up and scream. After that, it seemed like every time Owen even touched Drew, Drew would scream. It happened, like, five times. At least.

Finally, morning broke, bringing with it hot, hot weather. I put sunscreen on the boys and myself before we even left the tent, but felt the need to reapply less than two hours later. And I still got a little sunburned.

After a delicious breakfast (waffles, pancakes, sausage, eggs, and I didn't have to cook anything! It was so nice!) we went four-wheeling. The thing with the four wheelers was this: we could hardly get Owen away from them (every time we turned around, Owen would be attempting to climb onto one), and we could hardly get Drew near them. But we decided to take both boys for a little ride. It was a pretty flat dirt road we took them on; just bumpy enough in places so that Owen was happy, but mostly smooth so that Drew wasn't scared.

At the beginning of the ride, Drew was crying and carrying on, but he knew we were doing something most people consider fun, so between sobs he would yell, "Whee!" Sometimes the "whee" blended in with the "waah" making for a very comical exclamation. By the end of the ride, Drew was having lots of fun, pointing at things we passed along the road, and putting his hands on the handlebars like he was the one driving. Also by the end of our ride, Owen had discovered the throttle, and David let him hold it down while they cruised along in fifth gear with the engine revving at 7500 RPMs (all I know about that is it means they were going fast). Owen squealed with delight (uncharacteristic for him; he keeps a straight face most of the time, even when he's having fun). I'm glad I didn't find out about it 'til later. It still makes me nervous, thinking about it.

We had a great time. Owen was so mad when we got home. We got out of the car and he started crying. I asked him if he wanted to stay with Grandpa and ride the four wheelers. He said, "Yeah." in a sad, tiny little voice. He felt better after a nap, though, and after a wade in the pool, but I think we'll have to go up to Mackay more often. It's good for the boys to spend time doing stuff like that with their dad and grandpa.

*I was OK with this, because camping to me means a tent and no showers. Although, I won't turn down a flush toilet and a sink with running water; I'm not that nature-y.

**In the old days, I would have vetoed this (as well as cots--right, Kadee?) but I'm not as limber as I once was...

Panfakes and Robin Noodles

This is what we had for breakfast this morning. I was fixing pancakes and asked Drew and Owen if they'd like some. Drew said, "Panfakes? Yeah!" Owen said, "Teeeaaase!" While we were having breakfast, Westley was having his mid-morning snack. Even though I could see his bowl of ramen noodles (actually they were everywhere), I asked him what he was eating, and he said, "I eating robin noodles!"

The boys love having Westley here. He's so much fun, and they learn a lot from him. Drew and Owen have both started talking more, and they seem more brave to try new physical things, like running and going down bigger slides. The preferred activity seems to be running between the front door and the kitchen table--back and forth, back and forth, all the while yelling, "Go, go, go, go, go!" and laughing hysterically. It gets pretty fun (and a little wild) when all three of them are doing it at the same time. There are usually some collisions, but they never seem to care.

It's been super hot here lately, so Lura set up a pool in the back yard. The boys love it. I don't know how they'd like it if Westley weren't there; they'd probably have fun, but be more reluctant to just jump right in and start splashing. Here are some pictures (I couldn't get any with Westley; he was moving around too much. I got some videos with him, but I don't know how to post those...):

Compare this to this time last year, when they could just barely sit up in the pool by themselves:

Owen enjoyed drinking from the sprinkler.

Drew took a while to get the hang of it. The water kept hitting his belly before he could get his face up to it to drink.

Just a random picture; Drew climbed up into the baby swing all by himself (I have no idea how--I just turned around and there he was). He kept saying, "Nana. Nana." That's what he calls Marcus (Westley's little brother). And he and Owen thought it was hilarious that Drew would kick Owen in the stomach every time he swung toward him. Weird kids.

My Little Chatterboxes

Drew has always been a very vocal baby, but as of late, he is starting to be able to express himself in ways I can understand, rather than screaming. Today he actually said, "More cracker, please." Granted, it wasn't that clear; it sounded more like: "Muh cuckuh, peeeaaase." Drew says please for everything. We were in Shopko last week, looking at pool toys and Drew kept pointing at random things and saying, "Peeeaaase!" I've been trying to get Owen to say please, and his version sounds like "tease." It's very cute.

Owen, as a general rule, is the more quiet of the two boys. He's incredibly observant, and I think he's pretty sensitive to what is happening around him. Today, though, he was chatting on a toy phone, and "talked" more than usual. He was sitting at the foot of the stairs, saying all his favorite "words" like unguh and hey-o-bah, and suddenly he started laughing hysterically. Whoever he was chatting with (probably Grandpa or Dad) must have told a funny joke. It cracked me up, watching him. He usually walks around the room when he chats on the phone (I think he learned that from David, who kind of paces around when he talks), but today he just sat on the steps, laughing and chatting.

Optical Doom

Today was a day to see Opthamologists. Drew had to go in for a follow-up to make sure his tear ducts are still clear.* They are; everything looks good, so we don't have to go for our next checkup for three years, which is when he should have his first eye exam.

David went to get his eye checked out; it has been bothering him for over a week. It has been really sensitive to light, and really uncomfortable and even painful. I'd been trying to convince him to see a doctor about it, but I'm just the wife--what do I know? One of his co-workers was chatting with him about it and said, "You should really get that checked out," so he finally went to the Immediate Care Center (it's like an E.R. but not as urgent). The doctor there wasn't sure what was wrong with the eye. He and his little intern thought maybe it was scratched or ulcerated, but didn't know, so they referred him to the opthamologist, Dr. F., we'll call him, since I don't know how to spell or pronounce his name. I took David to his appointment yesterday and Dr. F. was also unsure as to what was going on, but had different theories than the original doc from the ICC. So they sent him home with some antibiotic drops and asked to see him this morning. I guess the antibiotic helped; at this morning's appointment, Dr. F. said the problem looked a lot better. He compared it to trying to look through a golf ball yesterday, and looking through a snowflake today. We have to go back on Monday for another follow-up (I say "we" because I'm the chauffeur. David isn't allowed to wear his contact in that eye until they get the problem figured out and fixed, so he can't drive unless absolutely necessary, in which case he'll wear a black patch over his eye like a pirate. Aaarrrr).

The appointment yesterday had me worried for the optical well-being of our children. David couldn't even see the big 'E' on the eye chart**, and when I asked him about it, he said he hasn't been able to see it for years. He has a very strong prescription. Everyone in his family has glasses. Everyone in my family has glasses, too, except for me. My mom wears trifocals, and my sister's prescription is almost as strong as David's. So unless there's some hidden gene out there, I imagine the boys will be getting glasses; hopefully not for a while, though.

*I don't think I ever posted about Drew's eye surgery. He had a clogged tear duct since he was born, which isn't uncommon, and it never cleared up like they usually do. So we went to the opthamologist, who put Drew under a general anesthesia for about 20 minutes and stuck a probe into the ducts to clear out the clogs and open them up. It was such an easy procedure and Drew was running around like normal as soon as we got home.

**David said that the tech at today's appointment asked him to read the eye chart, and when he told her he couldn't see it, she went on to the next test: "How many fingers am I holding up?" David got the first two right, but when the tech moved back, David guessed three fingers, and it wasn't until she moved closer to him that he realized she was only holding up two.

Kids Bite.

...Or maybe just mine do. Or just one of them does. And he bites his sibling. I'm not going to say who bit who; I'm really trying not to hold it against him since he was already punished for it. I just hope it doesn't become a trend. We'll use code names for this post. We'll call the boys Bim and Tris* just for today.

So. I woke up with tons of ambition yesterday, and decided to mop the hardwood floors and the tile in the kitchen (I use the same kind of soap for both. Is that cheating?). Mopping the floors may not seem like much, but it takes a lot out of me in my current condition and with our current weather (hot and surprisingly humid for Idaho).

Anyway. I gave the boys breakfast, and stuck them in the playroom with a fan to keep them cool and a few noisy toys to keep them occupied. I guess I made the mistake of not giving them equal toys. One toy was vastly more appealing than the other; it's a little firetruck with a seat and some buttons that play really obnoxious songs. The other toy was a little car dashboard with levers and a steering wheel that makes fun noises. The boys love it, but it doesn't compare to the firetruck.

Things went pretty well for a while. They kind of took turns with the toys, and though there was a little squabbling here and there, it was nothing major. Until suddenly, Bim starts screaming and crying--not the tantrum scream, but like he was hurt. So I dashed into the playroom and there was Bim with tears streaming down his little cheeks, and there was Tris sitting on the firetruck looking a little like he knew he was in trouble. But not looking at all repentant. I scooped Bim up into my arms to give him a hug, and then I noticed it: a perfect little circle, comprised of ten little red indents, exactly matching Tris' little teeth. I couldn't believe it. I called to David to come get Bim and hold him, then I grabbed Tris and swatted his bottom (I don't like spanking, so I don't do it very hard, or often, but the boys know it means they're in trouble when I do spank). I spoke very sternly to him, telling him we don't ever, ever bite, and he needs to tell Bim he's sorry. I wondered if Tris understood what I was telling him, and as I looked at his face, I realized that he did understand, and that he was not going to apologize. I have only once before seen a look of such defiance in his face.** I put Tris in his crib (all I could think of for time out) without his pacifier, which I think was the worst part of the punishment, for a couple minutes.

When I let Tris out of time out, I gave him one more little lecture, then we went downstairs. I quickly finished mopping and got a snack ready for the boys. Bim came upstairs and asked for a cracker, so I gave him two, telling him to give one to Tris. He took it downstairs and held it out to Tris. Tris would have none of it. He stuck out his bottom lip and his little ol' belly, and stalked away. Bim put the cracker on the floor and Tris sneaked over and ate it when he thought no one was watching (yeah, I let my kids eat off the floor). He wouldn't let any proverbial water pass under the proverbial bridge. It wasn't until after lunch and nap-time that he pointed to the mark on Bim's face and gave Bim a big hug. Better late than never, I suppose.

*These are actual names. There is a guy named Bim who works at the Railroad here, and Tris Speaker was a Major League Baseball player from 1907-1928. I guess both names are nicknames; I'm just saying, I didn't make them up.

Playtime at the Mall

We went to the mall yesterday to find a Father's Day gift for David. When we got there, I hopped out of the car and opened the back to get the stroller out. Alas! It wasn't there! We had taken it out for something and never put it back. I didn't really feel like driving all the way home to get it, so I just held the boys' hands and we walked around the mall looking at stuff. It was pretty fun for me, but the boys got restless fast. We have a game we play at home, where I say, "Go!" and the boys run around and around until I yell, "Stop!" (Or until they feel like stopping, which is more often the case.) So at the mall, when they started dragging their feet and not wanting to walk, I yelled, "Go!" and they kept walking, saying, "Go, go, go, go, go!" all through the mall. But even that got boring fast (who woulda thought?).

Luckily, our mall has a fun little place right in the center of it for kids to play. I keep meaning to take my camera, because it's so cute the way it's designed. There is a "rock" wall about 4 feet high, and when you get to the top, it turns into a "waterfall" for the kids to slide down. The carpet is made to look like a meadow with a "dirt" path and a winding "stream." There is a little bridge that goes over the stream at one place, and if you follow the path, it takes you to a fallen log with a big lazy black bear laying on top of it. You have to go through the log to get past the bear, and then the path takes you past a giant frog sitting on a giant lily pad. If you continue on the path, it takes you back to the waterfall slide.

The boys absolutely love it. The carpet is super soft, and none of the toys have hard edges. Owen did get slide burn on his cheek, but other than that, I think it's pretty hard to get hurt there. And everything is just their size, so they're quite confident about running around and climbing on things and going through tunnels.

We went back there today, too, just to get out of the house so David could get some sleep.* Once again, I forgot the stroller, but we weren't doing any real shopping today. My sister-in-law, Lura, and her boys, Westley and Marcus, were there shopping, so we planned to meet up with them. I think Westley had tons of fun, too. I imagine we'll be going there quite a bit, especially on rainy days, or super, super hot days. It's nice to have a safe place for the kids to play without worrying about sunblock, or slivers from old playground equipment, or gravel stuck in knees... And we get to sit in an air conditioned space and watch. It's so sabaay**.

*David got up early today and went for a plane ride with my brother, Andy. Andy is working on getting his commercial pilot's license. He's already got his private license, so he can fly the little planes. He has to put in a certain amount of flight hours, and David loves it, because Andy's always saying, "Hey, you want to go to _______ (fill in the blank with any place within a 2-hours-as-the-crow-flies radius)?" This morning, they went to Mackay, which is a little teeny-tiny nothing town where the in-laws go camping every single weekend during the summers. So the in-laws met David and Andy at the landing strip (there's not even an airport there) and took them out to breakfast. Then they flew home, so Andy could get to work by 11 a.m. I wanted to go, but didn't think I'd be able to get up that early. And I'm a little nervous to get on one of the little planes. I'm afraid I'll get sick. I never have before, but I did get sick on the way to Vegas in February, when our big passenger jet hit some turbulence. I blame that on morning sickness, and the fact that I was already pretty nauseous, but I still don't want to take any chances.

**This is a Thai word, for which, I have yet to discover a suitable English translation. It means something along the lines of comfortable, easy, laid-back, good, happy... All those, depending on the context.

Make Sure The Area Is Safe

...That is the very first step in helping a child (or anyone) who has been injured. I learned this in the pediatric first aid class that I took tonight. I didn't realize, when I signed up for the class, that the CPR course would be separate. I think I might sign up for it some other time. But we did learn a few vital basics for CPR, so in the meantime, I feel like I could handle a situation if need be.

I signed up for the class through the hospital. It cost $30, and was quite worth it. It came with a book and a CD-ROM, and I'll be getting a little certificate in the mail. Even though I have had some basic first aid instructions before, I never felt confident that I could do much more than apply a bandaid. I feel much better, after taking the class, and I think I could even be of some assistance in a real emergency. I would recommend a class like this to anyone with kids, or who works with kids.

The other bonus of tonight's class, was that I got a little break from my mommy duties. It was kind of a nice change. The boys were in bed when I got home, but not asleep, so I snuck in to give them kisses. They were glad to see me and gave me big hugs. It was great to know that I had been missed.

Some Pictures

I finally uploaded all the pictures from my camera from the last couple months. Here are a few of them:

Drew is a camera ham. Whenever he sees a camera, he yells, "Cheese!"

Drew put this bowl on his head and got it to stay there; all by himself. He was so proud. I wasn't as glad; there was still food in the bowl.
The little red dot on Owen's forehead is his battle wound from the library.
Here's Owen with his glow-in-the-dark Spongebob Bandaid. He had been crying about something, but still had it in him to smile for the camera.

Adventures at the Public Library

I'm so sick of the pop-up farm book that we have; Drew is always asking to read it, and he has tantrums when I tell him no. I think it's time the boys discovered there are many, many good books in the world, and they don't all have to involve farm animals. So we took a little trip to the library today.

The public library here doesn't boast of much, but it does have a great kids' corner. It has a little puppet stage, some fun flannel board story scenes, and some blocks and things to play with. The kids get to be noisy to a certain extent, and just have a good time. Owen and Drew found some books and a little purple bench to sit on and read. That lasted for about 20 seconds, though, because Owen saw one of these and he really wanted to play with it. And luckily, no other kids were playing with it; it was all his! He hopped off the bench and hustled over to the toy. He hustled too fast, though, and tripped and fell. Adding to his misfortune, he was also quite close to the toy when he fell, and his forehead landed right on the corner of the box. The forehead bled. Owen screamed. People stared.

The librarian was so nice and helped us to a little room with a sink and a first aid kit. She even shooed some people off one of the rocking chairs and brought it to us so we could sit until Owen calmed down. I felt a little bad about that; any chair would have done. But it was nice of her, and nice of the pregnant lady who gave up the chair. The librarian got Owen all bandaged up while I held him, and then she gave him a sucker. That, of course, made it all better-- until the sucker fell on the ground and we had to throw it away.

Now Owen has a little gash (about 1/4 inch long, not too deep at all) on his forehead, artfully covered by a bright blue and yellow glow-in-the-dark Spongebob Squarepants (if only he knew who Spongebob is) bandaid. When we got home, Owen was running around being silly (I'm always amazed at how resilient kids are), and he stood in the corner of our hallway, which was dark because all the surrounding doors were closed. He laughed as though to say, "You'll never find me." Oh, but I did find him, quite easily; I could see that glowing little Spongebob on his forehead.

The Best Feeling and The Two Worst Feelings

We (David, the boys and I, and my brother and his family) all went to the Ross Park Aquatic Complex. We had a grand time. The boys enjoyed the kiddie pool, and even though they didn't want to splash in the waterfalls themselves, they like to watch all the "big kids" splash, and they liked to go down the little slide and land in the water. They loved the lazy river, where David and I each got on a tube and floated around with the boys on our laps. Some punk kid was going around tipping people over. Before he got to us, we heard him yell, "I just tipped a girl off her tube and I didn't even know her!" Then, he came up to David from behind and tried to tip him over, but David was standing in the middle of his tube and didn't fall. I was ticked, 'cause David was holding Drew, and trying to get them both situated. So I yelled at the kid: "Dude, what are you doing tipping people you don't even know??" And at the same time, the kid's friend yelled, "Dude, he has a baby!" So by the time David turned around to glare at the kid, he was apologizing profusely: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" So David decided not to say anything to him. Later, I heard the same punk kid talking so foul and dirty. He was talking to an older guy (well, older than me), and I don't know if he knew the guy or not, 'cause he was the kind of kid that doesn't have to know someone to be rude and obscene. But I wish the guy would've smacked the kid upside the head and told him to watch his mouth. I would have boxed his ears if I could have reached them.

But snotty brats aside, we had a great time at the pool. One of my favorite things about going swimming (this is my best feeling of today's post) is putting my warm clothes on afterward. I get cold pretty easily, and I love to change from cold, soggy, generally-too-tight swimsuit to warm, comfy pants and shirt.

Today, I was in charge of changing Drew, while David took care of Owen. So I took Drew into the dressing room with me and got him changed, then worked on changing myself. I was just towelling off when Drew looked at me and said, "Belly!" He's so observant. I replied, "Yup, that's my belly!" And then, clever little Drew said, "Ew." (worst feeling number one) David tried to console me by saying, "He doesn't know what it means." But he does! He knows that ew is the same as yuck and he says yuck when I'm changing his dirty diapers. So it made me feel a little bad. But not bad enough that I didn't find it quite funny.

Drew got restless pretty fast in the little dressing room stall. I was trying to hurry, but I wasn't fast enough. He shimmied off the little bench, and got past my futile efforts to block the stall door (which was one of those flimsy little curtains). He said, "'Bye! See ya!" and took off out the door. I was still pulling up my britches and had one arm through my shirt sleeve, so all I could do was yell, "Drew! Wait for me!" but he would have none of it. I finally got my pants done up, my shirt on, grabbed all my stuff off the bench and raced after him. He was no where to be found (worst feeling ever). I looked all around every corner in that dressing room. It was like a maze in there. I couldn't hear him, or see him or anything. So I hustled toward the exit, and a lady coming in, noticing the panic on my face, said, "He just walked out that way." So I went out and there he was, trying to get back into the kiddie pool. It was crazy. In the 45 seconds it took me to finish getting dressed and run around the dressing room, my mind went through every possible scenario of what could happen to Drew, except the one where he would be safely returned to my arms*.

In summation, I would say the very best part of my day was tucking the boys safely into their cribs, and giving them tickles and kisses, and knowing they can't escape until I let them out in the morning.

*I have always felt sorry for the kids that are harnessed and leashed, but I think I might get a similar setup for my kids, just for situations like this. Then they can't run off when I'm helpless to stop them. But I think I'd like one that's disguised as a backpack, so the kids don't feel too silly wearing it.