Let me root, root, root for the home team

This June we experienced two baseball-related firsts for our two eldest daughters. Analee played her first season of T-ball, and Rebekah played her first season of coach pitch. The girls were, of course, on separate teams, but they both ended up with exactly the same blue T-shirts. Ana's team was the Blue Angels; Rebekah's was the Blue Lightning.

Highlights of Ana's season:

• The ump realizing that the tee can, in fact, be raised the lowered. Poor Ana had to swing crooked for the first game because she was too tall for the tee. When they figured out the tee could come up to her height, things worked out better for her, and she quit knocking the tee over.
• Getting to actually touch the ball once in a while. When you're playing with 3- to 5-year-olds, the ball doesn't travel very far. So if you're playing any position besides pitcher or catcher, chances are you're not going to see much action in the field. Poor Ana was so bored playing any base.
• Learning to line up with her teammates and give high fives to the other team after the game. You'd think this wouldn't be such a hard skill set, but believe me, it is for these young'uns. Half the team would end up at their rival's bench, thinking that the green team's treats were their own.

The many faces/poses of Analee, the Blue Angel:

Sometimes being a baseman is boring.

Her reaction when she knocked over the tee and was instructed to run to first base.

Running home with her hands in her pockets. It was a cold day.

In her sassy stance on first.

Showing the runner where to go.

Dancing on/around her base as a baseman.

Dancing on her base as a runner.

Jumping up and down on her base (hence her hair flying).

Chatting up the baseman.

Being a silly fielder.

See above.

See above.

Happy to either (1) get home safely or (2) take her helmet off.

Her ready stance.

Highlights of Bekah's season: 

• Working with me and Grandpa Scott on her batting stance and swing. Bekah struck out several times early in the season (which is remarkable, seeing as how the umps are extremely lenient with their strikes), but by the end of the season, she was making it onto base every time.
• Getting two outs in a row during one game. When Bekah played short stop against the green team, she fielded two grounders in a row and beat the runner to third base for a forced out. She was ecstatic.
• Learning the rules of the game. When, at a practice, Bekah opted to throw a short grounder to first base instead of home plate when the bases were loaded, she didn't understand why that wasn't the best option. After I explained that runs home determined points rather than how many outs you make, she got the picture.

Rebekah in action:

Running home.

Running to first.

Congratulating the other team on a game well played.

Getting ready to field the ball.

Talking to Grandpa Scott, the first base coach.

Leaping onto home plate.

Trying to make an out.

She beat him to the base!

Chasing a grounder.

Batting.

To see more images (just when you thought there was no possible way there could BE any more pictures), click here.

Bekah is 7

Rebekah enjoyed a birthday celebration similar to Analee: dinner of her choice shared with guests (macaroni and cheese with Mack, Tav, Grandma and Grandpa Scott and our family) followed by present opening, cake and a piñata.

Analee, Tav, Mack, Rebekah and Miriam eating mac & cheese, watermelon and veggies at the kiddie table. 

Rebekah opening a charm bracelet-making set from her cousins. The looks on her face as she opened the presents were absolutely priceless.

The princess dress Grandma Scott made her.

Her array of presents on the ground.

Like I said, priceless.

The cake I made her. Perhaps you remember my last attempt at fondant. (Disastrous.) But I found an awesome fondant tutorial on Pinterest and decided it was worth a second shot. This fondant recipe/instructions: golden. We slapped a Tinkerbell figurine on the top and called it good.

Bekah blowing out her candles. Half of them were already out because of the breeze. I've GOT to remember to take the cake inside next year.

 

Bekah taking the first swings at her homemade Tinkerbell piñata. (Note to self: Sunglasses are NOT a good idea for piñata favors. They will all be broken by the time they hit the ground.)

To see more pictures, click here and scroll down to the bottom of the album.

Miriam's blossoming testimony

Some people may not realize the value of nursery. I'm not talking greenhouses or rooms full of freshly delivered newborns here. I mean the nursery at church (or, Miriam's way of saying it: "Nuh-hee!").

I've heard that some people are reluctant to accept a calling as a nursery leader. I've heard that some people think that nursery is no more than two hours of baby-sitting. But I know that those nursery leaders are teaching important gospel principles to our 18-month- to 3-year-olds.

Case in point: When Seth picked up Miriam after our block of meetings today, she was holding a blossom that had undoubtedly been picked from a bush outside the church. I wondered if she had snatched it while they were getting some fresh air. She did all the things you'd expect a 2-year-old to do with it: hold it up to my nose to sniff it, try to unlock the cupboard doors in the hall with it, twirl it around in her fingers.

She still had a hold on it when we piled into the truck to drive home. And that's when my appreciation for the nursery program deepened.

Without any parental prompting at all, Miriam shared this truth with us while holding up her little sprig: "Jesus Christ made flowers."

I'm so grateful for an inspired nursery program and to the leaders who carefully teach the gospel to our beautiful young children.

Fashionista

Heaven help us. My 2-year-old is already developing a sense of fashion and her own personal taste.

As I was putting away groceries, Miriam came to me in the kitchen and said, "Nakey baby, Mama," as she lifted up her shirt. "Shirt off." So I took of her shirt, wondering what she was getting at.
She seemed happy to be bare from the waist up, but before she could prance off, she turned around with a look of consternation and said, "Pants off, Mama." I took off her pants thinking that she just wanted to run free for a while.

No sooner had I shucked off her drawers, however, than she told me, "Pretty dress." She took my hand and led me to her closet upstairs. I selected one and asked, "How about this one?"

"No. Pink."

So I found one that fit her requirements and asked for her approval. She happily let me pull it over her head and turned around saying, "Pretty dress!"

With two big girls, a toddler girl and a baby girl on the way, I'm afraid this is portentous. How many changes of clothes and shopping trips will we be forced to endure until we're no longer financially responsible for them?

Bekahism #47

While Bekah and I were shopping, she kept climbing in and out of the grocery cart.

Andrea: Hey there, Missy. You be careful.
Bekah: "Missy?!" Missy is my name when I'm in trouble. What did I do?

Yellowstone

Last year, we visited our first national park with the Grover side of the family. This year (June 2), we thought we'd invite Grandma and Grandpa Scott to come along in our van and take advantage of our season pass before it expires.

Last year, I took pictures. This year, I was lazy. But never fear, because there is more than one photographer in the family. Behold, the images of Neal Scott!

 

This is the view out of the van as we left Grandma and Grandpa Hendricks' cabin in Island Park to drive to Yellowstone. Yes, we picked a weekend with a poor weather forecast. 

 We tried going earlier in the season this time because (1) my pass expires in July, and (2) we were hoping to see baby animals. These bison did not disappoint.

We also went several new places this time. Here's our family at Gibbon Falls. Miriam was excited to get out of the van to see the sights. She kept telling Grandma Scott to "Run!"

Stopping at the Artist Paint Pots was a bad idea (I'll admit it because it was MY idea). It poured on us almost the entire time. The majority of us turned around and got back to the van just as the rain let up. Only Analee, Seth and Grandpa Scott were courageous enough to walk the whole loop. Poor Miri's pants got soaked; I took them off her and laid them in front of the heater vents (going full-blast) so they'd dry before our next stop.

The group at a familiar Grover-Yellowstone stop: Norris Geyser Basin. (Take a look at my 22-week pregnancy pooch.) When we've gone in past years, Norris has been our last stop on the loop, and we've kind of given it the short end of the stick because we were so tired. This time we saw more sights and spent more time looking.

Seth giving Miri a shoulder ride at our picnic spot. It was lunchtime right after our Norris stop, so we asked a ranger if we could eat our lunch in the campground without having to pay to stay the night. He directed us to the appropriate spot.

See the two brown spots on the right? Those are the first two bears I've EVER seen in Yellowstone: a sow grizzly and her cub. We stopped the car and took a careful look through the binoculars.

Grandma Scott giving Analee a piggyback while Andrea and Bekah walk behind. Our last major stop was the Mammoth Terraces. Canary Spring turned out to be my favorite attraction on this trip. 

The girls spent their hard-earned money (most of it acquired by picking up pine cones in our yard) at the gift shop in Mammoth. I think that's the part of the trip they were anticipating the most. Bekah bought a bag of polished rocks and a charm bracelet with Yellowstone animals on it. Ana bought a bag of rocks and a geode.

Memorial Weekend fishing

Somebody remind me why we go fishing on Memorial Day weekend. I realize it's opening weekend at Henry's Lake, but is it really necessary to go on the coldest, wettest weekend of the season?

Luckily, we had lots to keep us occupied while we were busy not catching any fish.

Bekah, Ana and Miri checking out Big Springs.

Analee and Mack looking at books at Grandma and Grandpa Hendricks' cabin.

Seth and Miriam at Upper Mesa Falls. Miriam thought the waterfall was too loud.

Seth trying to show Miriam the bear hide at the Mesa Falls visitors' center while the big girls assure her it's safe.

Rebekah trying to catch a fish in the tide pool at Henry's Lake.

Miriam and Seth trying to catch fish. Nobody got a bite.

Analee throwing rocks in the lake.

Ana is 5

... And has been for almost three weeks. That's what happens when you've got two major deadlines (the annual Snowbird yearbook slide show we do and the upcoming Scroll reunion) coming up. I'm abysmally behind on blogging.

Anyway, here's the recap.

Ana turned 5 on Thursday, May 24. The poor girl had to wait all day to enjoy any of the festivities though ... what with Bekah's school and Seth's work and all. We did our usual routine in the morning (shopping, baby-sitting Bennet, naps for the wee ones), along with some party preparation (filling the piñata, making the cake, getting the paperware out).

At the appointed time, the guests showed up: Grandma and Grandpa Scott, Grandpa Dennis (Grandma Susan was/is in Washington, D.C.), Aunt Jessica, Uncle Jim, Mack and Tav. We ate dinner (Ana's choice of PB&J cut into shapes and some cheeseburgers we had ready for anyone who didn't want a sandwich), then whacked open the piñata she and I had so painstakingly made.

 Ana eating watermelon and listening to Grandma Susan tell her, "Happy birthday!"

 

Taking the first swing at her ballerina piñata.

Ana with her party blower.

Miriam with her party blower. (Those are my feet and my dad's feet, in case you were wondering. And a random pool toy.)

Once we had gathered all the prizes and candy, we went back inside (thank goodness ... it was dang chilly out there) to unwrap presents and eat cake.

Aunt Jessica and Rebekah helping Ana unwrap a present from Grandma and Grandpa Scott. 

Analee blowing out the candles on her ballet slipper cake.

Which was followed by the unscripted portion of the birthday party.

Analee modeling the princess dress Grandma Scott made for her birthday.

The sad antelope

This is the story of how Bob the antelope suffered through great trauma. Don't worry though ... the story has a happy ending.

Yesterday my wonderful father was over at our house helping us with the remodeling of Rebekah's future bedroom in the basement. This is the bedroom that was previously plastered with fishing reel and lure wallpaper (applied directly to the sheetrock) and finished with rough wooden planks (to hide the fact that nothing had been taped or mudded ... and yes, that is a word I'm apparently making up).

As the aforementioned handyman was banging on the wall, Analee and I heard a banging of a different sort in the family room.

This guy (minus the Christmas decor) was on the floor.

Apparently the banging had bumped the nail loose, because we found it on the floor next to the head. I rushed over and picked the antelope up, gave it a quick once-over and gently laid it on the floor.

It wasn't until Dad was gone that Analee noticed the crack. Yes, the crack. The CRACK in the horn of the beautiful antelope Seth proudly harvested nearly three years ago.

My first thought: "I hope I don't lose my lunch. Shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot. Okay ... let's think this through. Seth will flip when he finds out. What can I do to fix it so he won't have as much reason to flip out?"

My initial answer: Google "how to fix cracked antler." As you can guess, that was a bad choice. (Especially since, I just learned, antelope have horns and not antlers.)

Once my mind was in a more reasonable state, I thought, "I don't have the expertise or materials to fix this. If I screw it up, that would be worse than having a cracked horn. What was the name of the guy that stuffed this head in the first place? 'John' or something ..."

I tried looking up a John or Jon taxidermist in the area, and knew I hadn't found the right guy. So I hacked Seth's email. And by "hacked," I mean I logged in as him. (I couldn't actually hack something if I tried. It's easier to login as somebody when you already know his password.)

I searched his email for "taxidermist" and found the guy's name (it was Jay, by the way). Then it was a simple matter of looking him up on Google, calling him to see if he could fix it, and dropping it off at his place in Rigby. My exact words when I met Jay: "Hi. I'm Andrea Grover, and this is my sad antelope."

I never intended on keeping the antelope horn mishap from Seth (I think he would have noticed the gaping blank spot on the family room wall directly above the entertainment center anyway), but I thought it would be better to deliver the bad news in person rather than over the phone. The only thing I hadn't planned for was early visitors.

See, last night we were scheduled to feed the sister missionaries. I told them we'd eat at 5:30, and they said they'd be there right in time for the grub. Seth usually leaves work at 5 p.m. and arrives home at 5:15 or so. I figured there would be enough time between his arrival and the sisters' to let him know the sad scoop.

Then it started raining. Hard. So the sisters gave up on knocking doors and came over early.

That meant that as soon as Seth walked in the house, I ushered him upstairs to Miriam's room, told him what had happened in whispers (the baby monitor's in her room, and since my aim was to have a private conversation with him, I thought it best to not have the sisters pick up what I was saying via the speaker in the kitchen), and explain that it would be fixed in a day or two.

Seth was aghast that his antelope had gotten hurt (understandably), but didn't place blame on anyone.

Today Jay called. I ran up to Rigby to pick up the head, and he showed me what he had done to fix it. When I returned it home and Seth checked it over, he couldn't even tell where the crack had been. All I can say is, "Phew!"

So Seth's trophy is now back on the wall where it belongs. But no more nails for us. It's going to take a 7.2 magnitude earthquake to knock that puppy off the wall. Thank goodness for screws mounted in studs.

Ostrich

As Miriam gets older and starts to assert her independence, she has taken on some new habits. The most obvious one is her tendency to cover her eyes with her fists. This is sometimes accompanied by her curling up in a ball on the floor. It doesn't matter where she is, if she feels like she's been wronged, she'll assume her "I don't like this and I'm not taking part in this" position. At Target. Outside the Civic Auditorium. At Grandpa Wirkus' house.

I guess she thinks that if she can't see you, you can't see her, like the proverbial ostrich with its head in the sand.

The other day, she took this to a whole new level. I don't remember what set her off, but when everybody else was sitting up at the table ready to eat dinner, Miriam was pouting in her usual way.

However, the 2-year-old was still hungry, so she compromised her feelings of hunger and letting us know she was still upset.

She ate with her eyes closed.

I kid you not (and no, I don't have pictures to back me up), this kid felt around on her plate for every bite of blueberry pancakes and eggs. When she couldn't feel anything left, she asked for more. When I asked her which kind of syrup she wanted (the regular maple or a fantastic new recipe for buttermilk caramel syrup that I found on Pinterest), she reached out her hands, felt both bottles, and identified the one she wanted by touch.

I hope she grows out of this phase soon, because if she doesn't, we might want to enroll her in some braille-reading classes.