and your point is?

I haven't blogged in a few days, and was feeling the itch. I really don't have much to say, but since I am now basically considering this my "journal", I need to write. I wish I could be as great and hilarious with the everyday stuff as some of my friends, but I'm not, and I guess that's ok. Here's what I have to say...
Lizzy is sick today. She is so sad when she's sick. She's a touch on the dramatic side...hmmm...maybe from her mama. Anyhow, we tried shopping yesterday, just the twins and I. We were in search of some great slip-on (non-flip-flop) summer shoes and the perfect 2008 swimsuits. After about an hour and 3 stores, Lizzy had had it. She was lethargic, burning up, and sad. Any mother in her right mind would have said, "hey, let's finish this another day", but I was on a mission, and that mission included going home with shoes, suits, and maybe even some capris. I'm so sorry Lizzy. We actually did OK...shoes for both and some great capris from Mervyn's (sometimes that store is ON, sometimes they're off...yesterday they were on...AND on SALE). By the time we made our decision, I was incoherent. I was sweaty, my feet were killing me(don't wear boots when serious shopping is on the agenda), and I almost didn't CARE what they picked. I said ALMOST. Nothing to die for, but nothing I'm embarrassed for them to wear. This picture is from a few weeks ago. Lizzy = sad, Dave = comforting. He is SO good at that.

Warmer weather means trampoline time. Dave wants the thing gone before we are sued by some neighbor for their child sneaking into our yard, playing with our stuff, and breaking something. Anyhow, Molly was jumping the other day. This is the first time she has really "gotten" it. She actually gets some air, AND keeps her balance. She's protective though. She wants the whole trampoline. We just sit on the grass and laugh at her. Wouldn't you?

For baths the other night, these 2 wanted to wear their swimsuits in the tub. Whatever. Sounds fun. It really was. They were having a great time...until I got too worked up about the splashing and the water on the floor. It's water...wipe it up. What is wrong with me? I can't do the "mess" thing. I have to leave the house for pumpkin carving and easter egg dying. Really. I love these kids so much and want them to have a great, memorable childhood, just not a dirty one. Yesterday I chewed Alex out for climbing under the tramp (to retrieve his shoe that "fell") and getting his t-shirt dirty. I instantly regretted it. How can I lighten up? Any suggestions?

Alex is now a wolf. I am so proud of him. He was proud too. And HELLO...could he be any cuter in that hat? I am so grateful for the scouting program. He is so enthusiastic about it. It teaches these boys such valuable lessons.

Enough rambling for you? I'll try to think of something wittier for next time!

*FUNNY...while Emily was in the dressing room trying on swimsuits, she boogied. I'm not kidding, with each new suit, she wiggled and danced in front of the mirror. If you want to know why this was so funny to me, check out my "jump-rope" entry. Like mother like daughter!

anything is possible...

I don't win things very often. Really. I try...a lot, but my hands usually come up empty. I know...so sad. Well guess what, things are changing around here. My good friend Brittany writes at this fantastic website. If you've never seen the site, you need to check it out. SO fun. Give yourself some time though. The first time I really looked, I missed dinner and everything that came after. They have great ideas, product reviews, stuff that your kids "need"to have. I entered a giveaway a few days ago for some freaking (I apologize for the harsh language) adorable shoes.


I figured I had about as good a chance of winning as Kristy Lee Cook winning American Idol, but it was worth a shot. Today I went to see if they had posted the winners, people I could pretend to be happy for , but really resent. I was a WINNER! I freaked. I know, it's a pair of shoes...but look at them, and picture Molly walking around wearing them. Now you understand. Happy day at the Schofield's. Happy, happy, happy.

Jesus, and other things...

Man, this baby is cute. She just had a cupcake and Mommy hadn't wiped her off yet. She says the cutest/craziest things lately. Maybe you'll get a laugh out of these too:

She tells me at least once a day that she wants Jesus to come home. "Mommy, I want Jesus come home affer my nap, and see my room"! I realize the spelling and grammar aren't perfect, but this is how she sounds. Add in a super excited high pitched squeel, and you've got it. It almost makes me cry when she insists on him "coming home a see me". She mixes it up a little sometimes. A few days ago she was walking around in a pink leotard and said, "Me want I a child of God come home, see my shirt"! I'm sure he can see, you cute little thing...and He loves it even more than I do.

When we are out driving and we get a few blocks from the house, she yells out, "almost home, we almost home"! The other day she said to me, "Dere's ours home Mama. Right frunna yours face". THAT made me laugh!

Hmoot nacks = fruit snacks

Molly likes to look through photo albums...and as you may have guessed, I have hordes! So, a few weeks ago, she was looking, and came across a picture of Emily right after she had eaten an easter egg dye tablet she had mistaken for a smartie (that's a whole blog of it's own). She got up, went to her room, came back with a wipie and attempted to clean Emily's face. She couldn't understand why I was laughing so hard, she was simply trying to clean up. She's done it several times since, and I laugh just as hard every time. Whenever she comes across a picture of Grandma Bird, she bends over, puts her cheek to the photo, then kisses it. I want to eat her, I really do. Trust me, she tries me at some point every day, but she is still so stinking delicious!

our easter...

We had such a great weekend! I was so worried it would be lonely without Annie and Rachel here, but we managed to fill it up. Our dear friend Brooke had a (huge...in my book) easter egg hunt on Saturday. She had prepared 20+ eggs for each kid, and even wrote their names on them. The kids had a blast! I am so grateful for people like Brooke in my life. She is kind, and giving, and I love her. Not sure why Alex had the basket on his head. Whatever floats your boat, bud.

After church on Sunday (it was GORGEOUS weather by the way)...I felt like a photo shoot. A serious one. I take lots of pictures for people up at BYU, and felt it was the Schofields turn. The kids were still dressed, Easter dinner wasn't for hours, and we just took our time. This is big for me, since I generally am close to self-destruction trying to photograph my own little family. This was actually enjoyable. Really, it was. My breathing was regular, no sweating, just pictures. I think they turned out pretty great too. I love these kids. I have to say though...they are posers. I know...don't complain right? I made them that way. But, I wanted some natural, candid stuff. It was hard...we'll have to work on it.

Here's our Molly girl, wearing one of our favorite Elsie dresses. I am in love with her hair.

My sweet, handsome boy, just before he slid around in the dust and dirt.

Mmmm...the sweet twins. They are just too much. Look at those smiles. It has taken years of practice!

We took a few family pictures with the tripod. This is definitely not the best in the bunch, but it shows each individual personality so on the nose. Emily...perfectly posed, Alex...maniac, Molly...giggling with her Daddy, Lizzy...a smiley little yummy thing.

For dinner, we had quite a housefull. Linsky came over with her roomate Amy and "friend" Bryce. We adore that guy. He was a natural. I think the Temple family can be quite intimidating, but Bryce wasn't having any of that. He was friendly, funny, the kids loved him!

Lastly, our dear sweet Grandma Bird came to visit with us. This is Dave's maternal grandmother. I have a hard time explaining just how much I love this woman. She is absolutely lovely. She is kind, and gentle, and giving. I don't have any living grandparents, but I feel as though Venice is my grandmother. She is so good to me. I love her so much.

Our day was just beautiful...as it should have been. Great meetings in church, great company, great food. Wouldn't have changed a thing!

jump!

The twins are completely obsessed with jump-roping lately. I don't know what it is. Maybe they saw someone do it on TV or something. Emily picked it up instantly. She seems to be a natural born athlete. She can sprint down the street, while jumping. If you've been anywhere NEAR my house in the last few days, I'm sure you've seen. Lizzy WANTS to be as good as Emily. She practices SO hard. She asks in her evening prayers to become a better jump-roper. Seriously. Is there anything cuter?

They roll them up and take them to school, practice at recess, then jump-rope home. I can totally relate. I was pretty hard core at Fairview elementary. If you couldn't jump...forget about your social life.

I can distinctly remember going school shopping with my mom at Boscovs in the Dover mall. We were only allowed to wear pants to school once/wk. WHAT?! That's tough for a jump-roper. I would try on different outfits in the dressing room...then...I would jump in place so that I could see how the outfit would flow at recess. If it didn't move quite right, or I didn't look hip enough, it was eliminated. Simple as that.

It is so fun for me to see my kids so THRILLED about something. I'm sure this will pass, and we'll move on to sports, dance, boys. But until then...keep on jumping!

1980 something...

My mom scanned this slide and put it on our family website this morning. It made me laugh out loud, and nearly cry at the same time.

Nope, not my grandparents...my dad's Uncle Woody and Aunt Bess. Man, did I love them. Uncle Woody was like sunshine. Happy, gentle, wonderful. We would sometimes go see them when we visited Grandmother and Pop in good old Nitro, West Virginia. The older lady with the glasses IS my grandmother...Inez Temple. She was a gem. Oh how we loved going to Wva for visits with them. I can remember the sounds, the smells, all of it. I think we were a slighly rowdy bunch for my quiet, reserved grandparents, but I know they loved having us there. We would perform in the driveway (to the tune of STAR CHILD...an LDS musical), walk to Ben Franklins with a whopping dime in our hands, skip down the bumpy sidewalks to the park, float newspaper boats down the stream, pick apples for applesauce. Grandmother really did make the best applesauce.

The handsome guy with the dark hair is my Dad. I know, he's REALLY handsome. My friends used to tell me that when I was younger, which completely freaked me out. Dad? Handsome? He was and is though. Aside from a few teenage years where I didn't want much to do with my dad, he has been one of my truest friends. A constant. Even when I would push him away in my smart mouthed, hairsprayed, pimple faced days, he would still hug me. Every day. I would be stiff as a board, pulling away, but he would hug me. He wanted me to remember how much he loved me. He's the greatest. We are alot alike, my dad and I. We share alot of similar passions. I'm so glad he's my dad.

Not much to say about the rest of us in the picture. What a crew. Laura and Rachel can still pull of the "I'm cute with my crazy hair and missing teeth" thing...Tracy and I ...not so much. I love my parents for letting us be who we wanted to be. I realize now how tough that must have been. The amount of AQUA NET that was used in our little bathroom probably wiped out my dads bank account. Our outfits are radical. I love the matching scarf/skirt thing that Tracy is sporting. I love my collar. My sweater vest. My swooped bangs. Yowza.

Man, I loved those 80's. Even more though, I love this family of mine.

9...

My little boy is nine years old. Am I seriously old enough to have a 9 year old? Oh yeah, I am. I can remember so vividly the day Alex was born. In all my Christmases and birthdays combined, I cannot remember ever feeling that much anticipation. That much excitement. I knew before, but even more after, that I was born to be a mom. Sure, I had my moments where I thought I wanted to be a doctor (kindof runs in the family), a professional athlete, an artist...but underneath it all, motherhood. I realize that sounds a little lame, but it's the truth. I always loved babysitting my nieces and nephews, being around babies. I couldn't wait for the day when the babies would be mine. After Alex was born and they whisked him off to the nursery, I lay there longing. Longing for them to bring him back to me. I couldn't sleep, I heard every sound in the hall, hoping it might be MY nurse with MY baby. If you're wondering...NO, every day since has not been bliss. I get angry, anxious, sad, exhausted...it's the price you pay. I love this little boy. He makes me smile. He is a goofy, happy, smart, nice boy. And he actually belongs to me. I can't believe it.

scary!

Me: Ooooo...You're scary Molly. That's a scary face!

Molly: Me not scary. Dat jus a fake!

oh...the outfits...

OK...so this is a huge step for me. I let my kids out of the house, in public, around the block...in outfits of their own choosing. What's the big deal, right? Wrong. This is a huge deal for me. I'm a bit controlling by nature, and I want my kids to look cute and put-together all the time. I want to be able to look at them and think...mmm...how cute, I'm so glad they're mine. I remember a few years ago, when my sister Lisa was visiting, she asked the girls if they liked dressing the same. Emily's answer said it all...mommy gets mad if we don't. I finally let go of the twin matching thing when Molly was born, but I can't seem to let go of picking out their outfits. It's not that they fight me on what they wear...trust me, I would win every time, but there's something they want to wear, and I'm saying no for no good reason. So, I've started saying yes. I'm thinking I may need to go through their wardrobes and eliminate all possible nightmare combinations. Who can afford that though? Wish me luck...

uniquely qualified...

Something I've been thinking alot about these days. Are my kids going to make it? Do they have a fighting chance? I'm talking about making it through childhood and teenage-hood without falling. Without giving in to all the temptations around them. Without giving up on the gospel. Without getting deeply hurt. There are so many things in this world that could hurt my children. I don't want them to hurt. I want them to be strong enough to make it. I want them to have the confidence to say NO when they need to. Am I teaching them enough? Do they know I love them...no matter what?

I sat through a sacrament meeting yesterday...and actually heard every word...despite Molly's attempts. It was an amazing meeting. One man that spoke quoted Winston Churchill when he said, "There comes a special moment in everyone’s life, a moment for which that person was born. That special opportunity, when he seizes it, will fulfill his mission – a mission for which he is uniquely qualified. In that moment, he finds greatness. It is his finest hour." He talked about the conversations he and his wife have about their children...about them "making it". He then said, "They are uniquely qualified". This is their time. My 4 can do it. They can handle what comes their way... and I realize that some of that may be pretty crummy, but they are qualified. That completely moved me. My children are qualified.

me yike sugar...

OK...so there are a few things I can take away from this picture...Molly eats too many sweets...and I MAKE too many sweets! I was making Gunnars famous pancakes (german pancakes for you non-family readers), and she saw the shiny silver bowl. She saw that bowl, grabbed a spoon and worked her way to the counter. I mistakenly thought she wanted to stir, so I didn't stop her. Instead, she heaped that spoon with a tasty mix of flour and sugar and took a HUGE bite. She instantly grimaced, and tried to get it out of her mouth which resulted in flour puffs. Once it was all out, the camera was put back on the shelf, and we were all done laughing...she kept saying, "me yike sugar, me yike sugar". Just a reminder, in case she gave the wrong impression. She is hilarious.

my friend...

My dear friend Joice lost her mother yesterday. I thought I would write a little about this friend of mine as I think about her and hope that she is OK. Love you too Jerry, but this is all about your wife. I love Joice and she loves me. I know she does because of how she treats me, things she does for me. Joice is a shopaholic. I'm going to come right out and say it. The woman loves to shop. She knows where the deals are, who has sales what day. The thing that's cool though, is that she's generally shopping for other people. We have been friends for years, and she hasn't forgotten a birthday (including my husband and 4 kids), an anniversary. She treats us with special things on holidays, and sometimes just because. It's those "just because" gifts that mean so much to me. They are unexpected. When I ask why, her response is usually...because I like you. Joice compliments you alot. If she thinks you look pretty, she tells you. If she loves your haircut, she tells you. Wouldn't this world be wonderful if we all tried to share loving compliments more often? Joice loves her family. She is so proud of her 5 children. They make her happy. Her grandbabies are her treasures. She smiles whenever they are brought up. Joice is passionate. I love passionate people...probably because I AM one. When she loves something, you know it. She doesn't care what people think, she just keeps on loving. She is passionate about Fideo Fridays at Cafe Rio. Don't know if she ever misses one. She is passionate about reality TV. Me too. One of my fondest memories of Joice is going to the Idol concert last year (she treated me...was there any question?). She was about to pop she was so excited. I couldn't stop watching her when Blake Lewis came out on stage. She was rocking out. I was giggling, smiling, so happy...seeing my friend so happy. I am so glad she is in my life. I love you Joice.

our david...

Happy birthday daddy! We love you. 38 today...WAHOO! No, our grass isn't this green yet, this picture is from Alex's birthday last year, but I love it. It makes me smile. Dave is our rock. We are so grateful for him. There have been times in my life when I have been nearly overcome with anxiety, and all I needed to slow my breathing and bring me peace was Dave. Gunnar has said that Dave is like the oil that keeps the machine which is our family, running smoothly. That's exactly what he is. He is a kind father. He works so hard for his money (the generations network scored with him). He is hilarious. We laugh together ALOT. We usually are laughing at the kids whether they are trying to be funny or not. We find humor in the same things. Dave is calm. I am not. It's a really good balance, especially in trying to raise 4 children. The man can cook...those of you who have been fortunate enough to taste his creations can agree, I'm sure. Great with recipes, but even cooler, he's great without. He can look in the fridge, the cupboards, and put together something AMAZING! Whenever he does, I say...did you write that down? They usually can't be created twice. Dave is helpful...I'd venture to say more than most husbands. Diapers, dinner, middle of the night trauma with the kids. I am so grateful that Dave is my husband, that we met eachother all those years ago working at RAH, and that I had the guts to ask him out! Happy birthday Davey!

heaven help me...

This is my first time...so here we go. If I didn't love you so much Christy...

What is his name? David Martell.
How long did you date? 9 months.
How long have you been married? 10 years…yowza!
Who eats more sweets? Me…I could eat the stuff through an IV.
Who said I love you first? Neither of us can really remember…are we lame?
Who is taller? Dave by about 6 inches.
Who is the better singer? Pretty equal…I sang a lot more in high school, but Dave is a great baritone..
Who is smarter? I’m thinking I did better in the “grade” side of things, but Dave remembers everything!.
Who does the laundry? Usually me.
Who pays the bills? Usually him.
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? I do.
Who mows the lawn? I’d like to say that I do b/c his allergies are so hideous, but I can’t.
Who cooks dinner? Usually Dave unless I’m REALLY planned out. Loser.
Who drives? Dave
Who is more stubborn? Do I really have to answer this?
Who kissed who first? Davey doo.
Who asked who out? I asked Dave…seriously, I couldn’t wait any longer!
Who proposed? Dave
Who is more sensitive? Me…I love to cry..
Who has more siblings? Dave (13), me (8)
Who wears the pants? OK…it’s me. Lighten up Amy!

I tag...seriously...I don't even know who reads this blog...OK OK...Brittney H., Kim K., and Laura (get yourself a blog girlie!)

WHAT?!...

Not much to say here. We have laughed at these more than we should. Hysterical. Yeah Davey for finding the humor in that silly piece of glass!

my emily...

I just realized that my sweet little Emily is the only one that doesn't have her own post. She is my lover girl and she needs one. This little girl is sunshine. A smiley, energetic, beautiful girl. Sometimes I just sit and watch her. I wonder what she will be like as she gets older. Hopefully just a larger version of her 7 year old self. What a woman that will be. She makes me laugh! Naturally funny, especially for her age. She has just got it. This cute little girl is a writer. She fills up pages of paper every day, with stories, lists, letters. Little treasures...and I want to keep them all. My treasure box is overflowing. Emily is happy...almost all the time. That makes ME happy. So happy. Of all my kids, Emmy is the one that has really taken to the camera. She knows just how to smile. Just how to tilt her head. Pretty much perfect for every picture. It may be partly because she knows how happy it makes me. She likes to make me happy. My little buddy. Forever.