Bekahism #19

I'm so (sniff!) proud of my daughter.

Last night while taking a bath.

Bekah: Dad, call me a turkey.
Seth: You're a turkey.
Bekah: Your mother!

Only four and already cracking "your mom" jokes. Like parents, like daughter.

I {heart} Primary

May I say that I simply love my church calling?

I love it. Love it, love it, love it.

Let's be honest--Primary is awesome. And Primary music is awesome. Therefore, being the Primary chorister is the awesomest form of awesome.

I'm particularly gushy about my calling because today was our Primary program. I know I was around to lead the children during last year's program, but I had been put into my calling just a month before, so I was still very much getting the hang of everything.

So this year, I have much more stock in the program because it was my job to teach eight songs to the kids well enough for them to sing them with gusto in front of the congregation. And the kids did it. So well.

I'm not trying to claim any of the glory for myself; in fact, I think it's a miracle that I've even survived this long. All the credit goes to the kids, their parents, and the Spirit.

I can't tell you how many times I've gotten choked up while singing with the kids. Part of that may be contributed to the pregnancy hormones, but I know an even greater part of that is the Holy Ghost. And today while we sang "Families Can Be Together Forever" with the kids singing, the congregation singing, the organ playing and the piano playing, it was everything I could do to keep it together and at least mouth the words while I was leading.

And here's a shout-out to our four-year-old and her first Primary program. Bekah is a very outgoing little kid who has always looks forward to sitting on the stand and giving talks during Primary, so I thought she'd do great on the stand during sacrament meeting. But a combination of all the people looking at her and the absence of her beloved Sunbeam teacher (who was out of town for her mother's funeral) had her in tears walking off the stand, coming to me and asking if she could sit with her daddy. "What's wrong?" I asked. "I'm lonely!" she proclaimed.

She sat next to me on the front row of the pews until it was her class' turn to say their parts, then she rejoined them on the stand to say as part of a choral reading, "Family members have important responsibilities." Then she got in line to say her individual part: "I'm Rebekah Grover. I'm the oldest child in my family. I help my mom and dad by weeding the flower garden."

She knew her part by heart, but when she saw all the other little kids getting help from the member the Primary presidency, she decided she needed it too. Then the Sunbeams lined up around the microphone to say, "I will obey my parents." After that, she was brave enough to sit with her class, so I didn't have any more little visitors on my bench.

And even though the program ended just hours ago, you can bet I've already started planning for next year's songs. I have the church's 2010 Primary outline downloaded, and I'm just trying to decide if our 40 Primary kids can memorize all nine verses of "Follow the Prophet" by next September.

Bekahism #18

Relaxing/playing in the bathtub.

Bekah: This is perfect.
Me: No, YOU'RE perfect!
Bekah: No, I'm just dumb ol' Bekah.

(I swear, we have never referred to either of our children in such a way. I don't know where she got that expression.)

get off my lawn, you darned kids

Last night Andrea and I went up to BYU-I to see a performance for our date in honor of her birthday.

We approached the woman in the ticket booth and I told her, "We bought our tickets online."

She asked for my name, and I told her.

She then asked me, "Are you employed full-time on campus?"

"Um, no."

"Are you a student?"

"No."

Then she found and handed me our tickets. However, as we got to our seats, I realized: she asked me if I was a full-time employee, then asked me if I were a student.

Wait, what? Slow down, there, bald eagle! Do I look that old? Have I let myself go that much? I may not have the old girlish figure I used to, and I may have thinned out a little bit in the hair department, but I wouldn't say it's an impossible stretch for her to first assume I could possibly still be a college student rather than asking me if I'm a full-time employee, or if I'm the father of a student or if I just wandered over here from Shady Pines Olde Folks' Home And Coffintoreum or something like that.

Sigh. I guess I'll just have to accept that I'm not as young as I was. Now, excuse me while I go chase these darned kids off my lawn. I need to hurry, too. I think Lawrence Welk is on.

Hunting Camp Extravaganza 2009

Rather than spending an entire week with Seth in the mountains, this year we decided to tone it down a bit. So Seth left home on Sunday, September 13, and we followed him up on Wednesday, September 16.

Wednesday

While I was making our final preparations to leave that morning, Seth called me to proclaim, "Dad just shot an elk. We're waiting for her to die." After that business was finished, they cut off the legs and backstrap, called Jim (Seth's uncle) and Eli (a hunting buddy), and hauled all of it about two miles to the truck. They were all pretty much exhausted by the time they returned to camp.

Meanwhile, the girls and I had finished packing, made the trip to Island Park, unloaded our stuff from the truck, and were sitting around waiting for them to return when they finally got back.

Dennis and Seth securing the elk on a pole.

Ana stroking the elk's leg. Soft and furry. At least that end of it.

That night we had dinner, enjoyed the fire for a while, and tucked our little ones in bed. Seth and Dennis were both too tired to go searching for more animals that night, so I had company in camp.

Thursday

After a long night of "Is it morning time yet?" "It's dark, Bekah. It's the middle of the night." "But is it seven yet?" "No! It's 1:30!" Seth took off early with the others to search for more wild beasts. The girls and I got up, got breakfast, and commenced the business of keeping ourselves happy and entertained all day. This included:

Taking Eli's dog, Tank, on a walk.

Playing on the trailer.

Doing some arts and crafts (leaf rubbings and stickers).

Playing T-ball.

And roasting marshmallows that night.

It was admittedly a little eerie after I had tucked in the girls and gone down by the fire all by myself waiting for the guys to get back from the evening hunt. I think the fire kept the werewolves away.

Friday

We had company to keep us busy this day. Grandma Susan had brought up Calvin the night before, so the girls had a playmate, and I had someone with whom to converse.

The girls resume their play on the trailer, this time with their cousin, Calvin. The was what Bekah referred to as "The Crazy Lazy Game." It consisted of running up and down the trailer and screaming.

Bekah gets to help Grandma get the steaks ready for dinner that night. Yes, that is a sharp knife my four-year-old is holding. Under close supervision.

That night, Susan offered to watch the girls while I went out with Seth to stalk the elusive elk. We heard a few moving in the trees, but we didn't see anything.

Can you spot the carefully camouflaged hunter?

The girls got to bed late that night, with Ana staying up almost as late as me. Squirrelly girl. She/We paid for it the next day.

Saturday

This was, by far, the most eventful day at camp. Not only did the girls have extra playmates--Eli brought his family up, including a six-year-old girl and a four-year-old boy, and Jim brought up his two boys, Mack and Tav--but Tav also got to celebrate his third birthday. His mom Anne brought up the presents, cake and pinata, and the kids had a ball.

Tav and his Diego cake.

Jim overseeing the unwrapping of presents while Tav and Mack do the work. Bekah paid close attention to it all.

After all the kiddies got two tries at the pinata, the adults handed the stick over to Seth to finish the job.

Immediately following the party, we loaded up the girls for the trip home. We knew we needed time to unload our stuff, get some long-overdue baths, and get to bed on time that night. Our little grumpy troll (previously referred to as Ana), fell asleep before we even left the dirt roads. After our shouts of "Hallelujah!" subsided, we enjoyed the rest of the drive in peace.

All in all, 'twas a good camp. For more exciting pictures, click here.

Ana's attire

Guess what we're starting today?


Goodbye diapers, hello big girl underwear. Ana carefully selected Ariel to wear for the first time today.

Break out the carpet cleaner and the rags. Gotta be prepared ...

ew

(at hunting camp)
Bekah: Daddy, I need to go potty.
Me: Ok, Bekah, I'll walk you up to the "potty tent." (the latrine)
Bekah: Daddy, why are there so many flies in the potty tent?
Me: Um, well, Bekah, it's because flies like poop.
Bekah: Well, they're going to love me!

My heart's a puddle on the floor

The girls were watching Balto III (Balto III?!? How in the world did they even come up with Balto II?) when I joined them on the couch to fill out a deposit slip for our neighborhood water association. Analee scooted on over next to me and said, "Mommy, I love you because you're sweet."

How in the world could anything top that?

Having that same little girl slide her hand between me and the couch so she could put her arm around me and cuddle.

offering

Today Bekah and I were sitting in the family room while Mom and Ana were both up napping.

"Daddy," she asked me, "why was the Lord pleased with Abel and not with Cain?" (Honest, that's exactly how she phrased the question.)

I explained how Heavenly Father had asked the people during that time to make an offering to them of the very best things they had, and that Cain had not offered the very best of what he had to the Lord.

Bekah thought about this for a minute, then said, "Daddy, I want to give Heavenly Father my treasure chest."

Bekah's treasure chest is her most precious, prized possession. It's a little toy jewelry box that Andrea had when she was a little girl, in which Bekah stores her most valuable "collections" (toys and trinkets) in her "collection room" (her bedroom). And she, without even hesitating, said she wanted to give it to Heavenly Father.

Kinda makes you proud to be a Dad, you know?

perception

As Bekah was getting ready for bed the other day, she glanced at the Time magazine on the bathroom counter with the portrait of Ted Kennedy on the front of it (above) and looked at it for a few seconds.

"Daddy, do you know what he's thinking?" she asked.

I looked at the cover. "No, what is he thinking?"

"He's thinking, 'Hey! It's not so bad!'"

I tried not to laugh. "What's not so bad, Bekah?"

"Nothing! Everything! I don't know!"

Anyway, for Ted's sake, I hope Bekah's right.

New photography blog

As per Seth's awesome suggestion, I'm starting my own photography blog. I'll update it as I shoot and edit pictures.

It's still a fledgling; I have yet to make it look as fabulous as this blog (which requires the talents of both me and my husband), but it will come in time. If you want to see my first posts, visit andreagroverphoto.blogspot.com.

Ana-ism #2

The other night, as we sat down to our dinner of biscuits and gravy:
Ana: Mmmm... paint pots. Mmmmm... paint pots! MMMmmm! PAINT POTS!

Number 3

My blog title reminds me of a terrific They Might Be Giants song of the same name. It goes:

There's only two songs in me, and I just wrote the third.
Don't know where I got the inspiration or how I wrote the words.
Spent my whole life just diggin' up my music's shallow grave.
For the two songs in me and the third one I just made.

Not that this has anything to do with the post (besides the title) ... I just really like TMBG.

Anyway, down to business. (Drum roll, please.)

Seth and I are expecting our own number three! He/She is due April 5, 2010.

We went to the doctor on Tuesday, August 25, and came back with these:


I'm not going to point body parts out, because we're not entirely certain what's what. The well-defined circle is the yolk sack, and we think we can see some arm and leg flippers and maybe a head, but it's a lot like those darn Magic Eye puzzles I could never make out.

Both girls are excited at the prospect of having a younger brother or sister. At first Bekah wanted a boy and Ana wanted a girl, but I think they disagreed only because they wanted to disagree; now they both want a little brother.

And Bekah has made the difficult name decision for us. If it's a boy, we'll name him Pinocchio. If it's a girl, Spongebob. Needless to say, we reminded her that the final decision is left to Mommy and Daddy.

We're happy to report that all members of the Grover family are excited about having a new baby in the family. Bring on the sleepless nights and endless spit up!

Six years

Six years ago today, I was here:


That's when I married the most
sweet
handsome
talented
cute
loving
awesome
intelligent
chivalrous
faithful
lovable
perfect man.

I love you, Seth!

Shopping trauma

Today's Wal-mart shopping list: new sneakers for Bekah, cold cereal, hair elastics, an umbrella, eggs, milk, bananas, Crystal Light.

We were in the drink aisle when I heard something and turned to see something all over our cart of groceries.

My idiotic response: "What happened?!"

I looked at Ana just in time to see her throw up again. And again.

I had no idea my little girl wasn't feeling well. Sure, she didn't eat that much for breakfast this morning, but I just thought she was being a picky eater. Instead, I had a poor kid who didn't understand what had just happened and certainly didn't like it.

I grabbed the wipes out of my purse and started cleaning her up. After I had picked her up out of the cart and removed her shoes and shirt that were both covered in ick, I ran out of the aisle to find anyone in a blue shirt with a name tag. The first one I came to proved to be mostly unhelpful.

"My little girl just threw up all over in this aisle. I'm sorry! I had no idea she was sick."

She came, she looked, she called maintenance on her walkie-talkie and left. She came back with "wet floor" cones, put them down and left again.

Meanwhile, I was using every wipe I had with me (along with about 20 more a sympathetic mom had given me) to clean off all of our groceries. I would pick up an item, use two or three wipes to clean it off, set it on the floor and grab another. By the time my cart was empty, still no one had come to clean up my kid's mess.

I found another Wal-mart associate, told him what had happened, and asked if he could possibly bring me a new cart. He left, returned promptly with my cart, and asked if there was anything else he could do to help me.

By that time, however, I had taken care of as much as I could. I had wiped down every item in my cart, put in a puke-free place, stripped my kid down to her diaper (after I discovered that her shorts hadn't escaped the disaster) and placed her yucky clothes in a Ziploc bag I happened to have with me.

So it was in this condition that I reloaded everything up in the new cart, along with my 2-year-old clad only in disposable underwear. I left the cart, the vomit and a mountain of soiled wipes, and practically ran to the check-out area. Trying to be considerate of other people (cashiers are people too ... people who probably don't enjoy something that's been soaked in throw up), I checked myself out at a kiosk and booked it for home.

That's how Ana got a second bath today. And, harried as I was, I remembered to remove her diaper this time.