Home again, home again, jiggety jig

It seems like we've spent more of our summer away from home than home. So of course, the first part of this week was spend re-finding our life: cleaning the house, buying supplies, organizing.

Oh, and finally getting to some long-overdue decorating projects. When we bought the house, it came with this lovely fake green ivy bedecking an interior window. It wasn't particularly attractive; it was looking less attractive with the remnants of Christmas poinsettas that I'd added back in December and hadn't ever removed.

So this week, I pulled it (and all its styrofoam glory) out of the container, cleaned the base, and replaced it with this instead:

(The kids helped. And miraculously, no one was killed or injured in the process). The eucalyptus for the above project came from my mother-in-law; back in March, she gave me the remnants of a huge wreath she'd inherited from her previous job. She took apart the wreath, gave me the pieces, and asked that I make her another wreath. (You can see the new wreath here.) Since then, of course, the unused portion of the wreath has sat in bags in my bedroom and in the basement. I finally decided to spruce up the house--and clean--by making an arrangement for the kitchen (shown here).

In addition to sporadic cleaning, we spent the week playing with friends--we've seen our friends Isaac and Zoe several times this week; yesterday they came over and helped us make Star wars cookies with our handy Williams and Sonoma set. These things are seriously awesome. Playing usually means getting dirty at some point--here's Andrew sporting a new mid-bath hair-do.

And, in case you were wondering, this is pretty much what he looked like during most of Toy Story II. No, that isn't a typo--we watched the sequel this week with the thought that we could see the new release after our kids have seen the previous versions--but I don't think that's going to happen. (At least not until it comes out on video and we have more editorial control). Here's why. I forget sometimes that Andrew can really be a sensitive little soul--most of the time he's so rough and tumble. But he had serious issues with the threat to Woody--he spent most of the movie convinced (and in tears because of it) that Buzz et al wouldn't be able to rescue Woody. And when Woody and the rest of the round-up gang ended up at the airport, you would have thought that Andrew was suffering real bodily injury, he cried so hard and long. I *think* he liked it, after everything was resolved, but I wasn't sure he'd make it to the end. (In fact, I put of changing one of Evelyn's poopy diapers for a good 10-15 minutes because I wasn't sure I could leave Andrew alone that long). From everything I've heard, the newest installment has a few intense moments that might completely undo this kid. So, for now, we're waiting.

In other, more mundane news, we picked up a bunch of school/art supplies at some of the back-to-school sales and the kids couldn't wait to try them out (and use them up. Seriously, why is it that these paint sets are mostly used up after a single use?)


Evelyn cracks me up. You can't tell, but underneath this shirt, she's wearing her Minnie Mouse dress (which I purchased in a weak moment at the Disney store. Okay, well, I'd been tempted by it for weeks and it finally went on sale). Anyway, she painted this funny black squiggle on her paper, looked at it for a moment, looked at me, and then said, "Mommy, it's a snake! Scary." Her linguistic prowess sometimes amazes even me--today at church a visitor, who also has a two-year-old daughter, asked me when Evelyn was born, and when I told her, she marveled at how articulate she was. (Of course, that was because Evelyn had been chattering non-stop during the meeting). Earlier this week, we were outside and she told me. "Mommy, hear that? It's a plane way way in a sky!" (According to my child development book, at this age she should be able to say some basic 2-word sentences; by the end of her third year, she should be able to say some 4-5 word sentences. For some reason, I don't think we have to worry about that!)

One day this week, I don't remember which, Evelyn insisted on wearing a princess dress. All day (including to the store). Most of you with little girls who have already gone through similar phases are rolling your eyes, but this is the first time she's done so. I can already tell we may be in for it.

Since this weekend was the twenty-fourth of July, we were able to enjoy a little more family time (in Utah, the twenty-fourth is a state holiday, so all state institutions--including universities--close down). Friday we went down to SG and enjoyed the aquatic center down there (we're looking forward to having our own when the construction is finished sometime this winter). Saturday, of course, we went to the parade. Actually, most of us were *in* the parade. The primary children got to ride behind a tractor--you can see Andrew and Evelyn pre-parade here.
And here they are in the actual parade. Dan was walking along somewhere just behind this. You may have to look closely to see them--Andrew's partially hidden behind the little girl in white; Evelyn is at the front under the flag. When I saw them (granted, it was the beginning of the parade route), they were both waving for all they were worth.

Last night, Dan and I celebrated our anniversary by heading to one of the finer local restaurants, about two miles up the canyon. This meant that we finally used the gift-certificate our realtor gave us almost a year ago, in thanks for our custom. (One year ago yesterday we moved into our house). The food was pretty good, although the metal chairs and plastic vinyl covered tables weren't quite what I had expected for what I'd heard described as one of the fancier sit-down restaurants in town. I suppose they were trying to keep up the rustic theme. Anyway, my mom would be so proud of me: I actually ordered fish. (Dan attributes this all to his influence, which is probably true. I never touched the stuff growing up, if I could help it).

In closing, a funny story I heard from one of our friends who's in the primary with Andrew. Apparently, the music leader announced that they would be singing one more song. Andrew said, "It better be quick!" She thought he was teasing her (I guess he does that sometimes) and asked playfully, "Quick! Why should it be quick?" Andrew, starting to tear up, said, "Because my singing voice is starting to run out."