WHERE do babies come from?

Last night I was talking with a friend about strollers. I told her I had borrowed a double stroller from Ivie (another friend). Spencer heard only part of the conversation and, as usual, had no idea what we were actually talking about.
"WHAT? You BORROWED that baby from Ivie? I thought we got him at the hospital!"
I especially liked the "that baby" part. As if "that baby" were no longer a member of our family, but a spy, posing as his brother-all the while belonging to Ivie.
I'm pretty sure we went over the whole pregnancy-birthing thing several times while I was pregnant. Either he has a very short memory or he doesn't listen to a thing I say. I've always suspected the latter.

New Bowl

This is the latest addition to our bowl collection. After eating the watermelon from it, Regan decided it would make a great cereal bowl, so he put it away. I found it here, neatly stored with the other bowls.
I wonder if it's dishwasher safe? Because I'm not keeping it if it's not.

Cold Calls

If you had tried to call us today between the hours of 3 and 6pm, you would not have reached us. One of our phones was lost, and off the hook. Jason and I kept listening in on the phone that was not lost, trying to figure out what the background noise was. Some sort of... fan....maybe a distant lawnmower....maybe the swamp cooler....or the white noise machine. We checked out all of these possibilities with no luck. Later, while Jason was looking for something to eat, the humming of the refrigerator suddenly sounded familiar to him. He searched through the fridge, no phone, but...Ahaa, the freezer. There it sat, on the blob of melted and refrozen Popsicle that I've thought about cleaning up for a few months now. Or maybe a year.

We're not exactly sure how it got there (the phone, not the Popsicle blob). I think it must have been earlier today when we had 9 (yes NINE) neighbor kids, plus all my kids, at our house. There was some sort of squabble at the freezer "No, I'm sorry, I don't keep that many Popsicles on hand...." I had to wrestle a few kids out of the freezer (mostly Ben). I guess that's when we lost the phone. This is just one more reason (I'm making a list) for me to be done having kids.

Ben's "baby"

Some of our friends stopped by the other day on their way to the D.I. to see if we wanted anything they were getting rid of. We found this doll, which is actually a potty training doll. It comes with a bottle, diapers, and even a "potty". Jason decided it would make a good gag gift for Regan or Spencer, so we kept it. The next morning he gave it to Regan as a gift. We all had a good laugh, but when Ben saw it he was so excited. It instantly became his baby. He feeds it, loves it, holds it on his lap, and occasionally, drops it on it's head or stands on it.
Now, when he tries to poke his fingers in Weston's eyes, I say "Go poke your baby's eye's".
Works great. Who would have guessed?

Sleep Tight

One of the best things about a baby:

Two Right Feet

Every Sunday morning I have the kids gather all their church clothes together, including socks and shoes, so that we're not frantically trying to locate things at the last minute. Yet it seems, no matter what time church starts, that we're always racing to make it in time. This Sunday was no different. Five minutes beforel church starts, and I'm yelling at the kids to get in the car. Spencer's shoelaces were in a knot he couldn't undo, so he just grabbed his shoes and carried them with him. By the time we settled into our seats in Sacrament meeting, Spencer noticed that he had grabbed two different shoes. Normally that's not such a big deal (yes, it's happened before), at least they're both black. This time, however, they were both the right shoe.
He begged us to take him home to get the left shoe. I told him to forget it. It's not my fault he can't tell his shoes apart. Suddenly he was struck with stomach flu plus headache plus stuffy nose plus sore throat symptoms (hey, if you're going to fake sick you may as well go all the way). When that didn't work and it was time to go to primary, he sat out on the couch bawling and yelling "But I really am sick. I need to go home." This earned us some "what type of parents take their sick kid to church" looks. Obviously, they don't know Spencer.
Luckily, he has a good primary teacher who came and sat with him on the couch. His teacher pulled out some drawings he had done (he's a very good artist), and showed them all to Spencer. Eventually he was able to convince him to go to class, shoes in hand.
I think next week he may double check his shoes before heading to church. In fact, I'd be willing to bet it'll be at least a month before it happens again.