tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8143711611357802142024-03-05T10:49:12.901-05:00Seibold FamChelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.comBlogger278125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-29795767303420245862015-11-18T19:24:00.000-05:002015-11-18T19:24:00.276-05:00Fam Time. Idaho style. <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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The weekend before my induction my family came up to visit
for the weekend. Considering where we live, we had limited options of things to
do since they aren’t too interested in farming or the family dollar store in
town. We made the most of every minute including a trip to the arcade, pumpkin
patch and sandwich shop. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
The best part though had nothing to do with the tickets
at the arcade. The best part was just lurping around, crowded in my living room
talking and being together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone that
knows my family knows that there are a few things in common. 1. We all married
introverts (so far). 2. We are all fairly (and by fairly I mean foghorn level) loud.
3. We all like to laugh hard. 4. We all like to be together. Besides those four
things, there is pretty much nothing else in common. I have four brothers and
they couldn’t be more different. One is a fireman/former MMA fighter/cowboy. The
other works at the MTC and is planning on law school. The third brother has red
hair, works as a water treatment specialist and the only plan he ever makes is
planning on having a good time. My youngest brother is the only non loud person
in my family and beloved by everyone and has done everything from construction
to making doughnuts at Kohlers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
sister Em is one of the most organized mothers I have ever or will ever know.
She is type AAA like the battery and I am type Z and don’t plan ahead for
anything. My youngest sister is in beauty school and a senior in high
school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I just look around and
wonder how we all can enjoy each other so much when there are so few common
denominators. I guess it doesn’t matter at all what you have in common with
your family if the one thing you have in common is that you love to be
together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There really is no better
feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Like Lilo and that psychotic
mutant blue creature Stitch taught, “Family means no one gets left behind.” It
also means you belong to something bigger than yourself. That you hurt and feel
stressed when you know one of your siblings isn’t doing well. It means you stay
up until 2 am playing super smash brothers because you don’t want to miss out.
It means that you know that there are people on Earth who just get you because
they are apart of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It means that
even if you didn’t know about DNA or genetics, that you have people that
understand your humor and that you have a mental food storage of shared
memories like eating the cake mixes from the food storage room on Sunday, or
midnight parties or playing lost kids in the dog kennel that no one else on
Earth shares with you or can ever be recreated. Family is everything. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-57668753351842705402015-11-18T16:14:00.001-05:002015-11-18T16:39:09.321-05:00Welcome to Earth Lucy Bliss....<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t know what everyone else was doing on October 14,
2015 but I was busy giving birth to a human. No big deal. Actually is there
anything that is a bigger deal? I’m having a hard time thinking of it if there
is. The whole process is quite mind boggling. It always will be. A human being
that’s been cramped up in big water balloon called the uterus (what an awkward
word) comes out through something people call the birth canal (why do they call
it this? Canals are wide and long, I do not think either of those words
describe the birth exit accommodations) and all of a sudden you are completely
responsible for another person for the rest of their existence. How do you even
describe that feeling when suddenly there is a screaming purple mini human covered
in mozzarella easy cheese laying on your chest? The answer is you can’t. You
simply can not explain it unless you have felt it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And after you have felt it, you will still
not be able to ever explain it so don’t even try.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Lucy’s birth was hands down the easiest of the three gals
that I now call my eternal team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
was my first induction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have always
wanted to have an induction but it hadn’t worked out the two previous times so
I was quite delighted that she was still uterized <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(my own made up word for being inside) on the
induction date. Inductions have always been the gold medal 5 star birthing
dream in my opinion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After being a labor
and delivery nurse for 7 years, I saw far too many rushed deliveries of people
coming in at 4 am with soaking wet towels, or placenta stained front seats. I
never was a fan of the experience where you could hear the screaming in the
elevator before you ever saw the panicked face of the woman who couldn’t sit in
the wheelchair because there was another head that was not her own already out
leaving a traumatic trail of fluids all the way to the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am all about respecting whatever kind birth
women want as long as it is safe but as for me and my womb, I choose the
easiest route possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything that
my pioneer ancestors embodied before me, I am the antithesis of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read stories of them giving birth next to a
wagon wheel and then walking on the next hour gathering buffalo chips for
dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bring shame to all that they
represent because if I had my way, I would get an epidural the entire last
month of pregnancy and wheel around the house in a wheel chair so I didn’t have
to feel a single contraction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s just
say it like it is, I am the ultimate weinie. I’m not proud of my allergy to
anything uncomfortable, difficult or painful but it’s the sad and sorry truth. I
wouldn’t have lasted 7 minutes at Rocky Ridge or in a time period without
electricity, epidurals and cars. I get a laughing gas overdose for even the
slightest cavity, I like the bum warmers turned on in the car whenever I drive
and don’t get a flu shot every year because I’m scared of needles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So birth has never really been my thing. On birth eve, I took my final pics with my gals. It was so nice to know when it was going to happen instead of just waiting to be in writhing pain at an inconvenient time. My sister Em took the pre birth photos...</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
When the nurse asked me about my birth plan I clearly helped her understand
that an epidural was in our very near future…as in she could call the
anesthesiologist immediately. She pointed out that I wasn’t in labor. I didn’t
understand what that had to do with anything. I felt like getting my epidural
before signing all the papers and putting on the gown but I was trying to be
compliant.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The worst part of the whole ordeal was having to call at
4:30 am to make sure we could still come to our birthing suite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so tired at 4:30 that I got back in bed
and told Gar we could do it another time. Those who know me understand that
there are few things I value as much as sleep and few things I loathe more than
getting up early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gar is a morning
person and could see the logical necessity of us getting to the hospital in
Pocatello so we got in the jeep in the dark still morning and headed down the
empty highway to room 208.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After the IV,
paperwork, epidural and Pitocin was all started we asked them to turn off the
lights, Gar laid on his plastic bed which was the equivalent of laying on a
large pack of tortillas, and we both slept until 10:45 am when they checked me
and said I was ready to push. Dr. Carlson was my OB but he let Garrett do the delivery. After 3 pushes at 11:05 am they put a quiet baby
girl with lots of black hair on my chest and then I felt what it pointless to
explain other than at 11:04 my life was completely different because at 11:05 I
became a mother again forever to another spirit that I will spend the rest of
my life loving, serving and trying. If there’s one thing that having two
children has taught me, its that babies aren’t born as a ball of playdough that
you shape and form. They come with a personality. Oh sure you can read all the
parenting books you want and you try to your best to teach and to discipline in
a way that will help them not end up in jail or being a complete loser but when
it all comes down to it, they come in a dependent body with a very independent
old spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They come to Earth already
knowing things, with a soul that has been alive for eons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a sobering, humbling reality to try to
fully process that I could be trusted with such a responsibility; to take care
of, love, and teach another human being forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After they put the transformer bed back together and a fresh
sumo wrestling size pad, I guzzled 3 cups of grape juice and sprite while
Garrett held her and I laid there numb like a mermaid on a rock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I never missed the chance to push
my epidural button (it’s the best video game I’ve played) including 2 minutes
before she came out which gave me an extra dose of complete paralysis. It took
3 hours (imagine being numb for all of church) until I could finally get
sensation back enough to get in the wheelchair and go to the recovery suite
down the hall.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During that time Em, my
mom and the girls came to visit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After
seeing the hospital lunch, a peanut butter honey sandwich sounded divine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>brought the sandwich, balloons, signs and the car seat. I doubt there is
a sight that could have made my heart feel happier than seeing them all in the
doorway and so excited to see their new sister. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is nothing better than
family. Especially family meeting the new team member. The girls were
completely thrilled to meet her. I was completely thrilled about not being
pregnant anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone was a winner.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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The rest of the day was so fun. We talked about what to name
her, napped, called family, did our dutiful Instagram posting, had my uterus
mashed every few hours like they were kneading bread dough with my belly, went
to the bathroom with all the new accessories (post birth bathroom accessories
are great…water bottle, more sumo pads, ice packs, wipes, the works, it’s an
event all by itself).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I felt so happy knowing my girls were home pretending something wild with my mother who was rocking their worlds. </span>Dana, Kyndra and
Jessalee came in the evening which was so fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span> </div>
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Gar picked up Texas Roadhouse and cold stone (per my request) for me and
the nurses and then tried to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Sleeping at the hospital is utterly and completely futile. It
seems like every hour the uterus masher comes in to do some kneading, or
someone wants to take your blood at 3 am, or you have to get a critical blood
pressure taken in the middle of the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Someone has something to do every hour which makes sleeping nigh unto
impossible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not to mention the fact that
they bring the babe in every 3 hours for nursing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Sleeping was a joke.</span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By 4 am I was completely wiped out. The nice
nurse walked in and said, “It’s time to feed your baby.” I responded, “Uh huh,”
and then rolled over and kept sleeping. Finally she woke up Garrett and gave
the baby to him and told him to wake me up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>By the time the sun shone I was ready and excited to get back to my own
bed and my own shower and sleep without someone wanting to come chat about
taking my blood in the middle of the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Luckily, one of the nurses was our friend Reagan from our ward so we enjoyed an added hangout.</span><br />
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That morning we decided on the name Lucy Bliss. We both had
liked the name Lucy for the last few weeks. The runners up were Emma, Claire,
and Elizabeth. I have always thought the name Bliss was so cute and when
Garrett read the definition of what it meant, he was convinced. Bliss means, “supreme
happiness, blessed or complete joy.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
both feel that this year has been a year of bliss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is my far my favorite year of marriage and
we have been boggled at how blessed we have been this year. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After making that monumental decision, we
filled out the paper work, got a flu shot against my wishes, packed up camp and
headed home.</div>
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She didn’t make a single sound the whole way back home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt so good to be back home. My grandma
and grandpa had driven up to meet her and Em had stayed with her kids so it was
a full house of humans we love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The whole
thing seemed surreal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had only been
24 hours but it felt like everything had changed, and definitely for the
better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t talked with Lucy (we
have quite a language barrier considering she doesn’t talk) or even know
anything about her but I do know that I feel a deep and very real love for
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know without a doubt I’m going to
make about a jigabillon mistakes raising her because I have no idea how to
raise humans but I also know that there are going to be some dang good family
vacations, talks, laughs and experiences in the process. And even though you
give up sleep, money, time and so many other things, there is nothing more
worth it on Earth. </div>
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Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-82673517334751876962015-06-20T00:11:00.000-04:002015-06-20T00:17:38.615-04:00Fetal festivities. Time goes fast but it goes even faster in blog months when you realize that it feels like years since you've typed a word and so many things have happened that you completely abandon the noble thought of every catching up and making a cute blog post about every event you want to remember. The biggest event and change is that the last time I blogged my womb was empty. Now I've got a uterus friend that moves. What in the world? I don't care what mind blowing science experiments you've witnessed, there is nothing in life that compares to growing another human being...inside your own body. I mean take 4 seconds and just ponder that concept. You can't fully. It's impossible. And yet here we are. Science experiment number three. Growing this very second as I sit here in my sweat pants (I would rather gargle nasty fluoride at the dentist office for an hour than wear jeans, only sweat pants and maxi skirts are my friends). I went to my first visit at 12 weeks and enjoyed a ravishing scandalous gown, exam, and heard the heart beat. <br />
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Liv was an excellent assistant and was completely fascinated by the blood draw. She said to me after, "Mom, I am not going to have any kids if I have to have a shot." Fair enough. I didn't try to explain that the "shot" was probably the easiest part of the entire ordeal. I didn't go into details about how you feel like your OB is sewing a quilt after delivery on very private territory, or how you feel like a cowboy riding an ice pack saddle for the next week, or how luxurious and comfortable the last month complete with dilation checks can be... We will save those chats for another day. In a lot of years. <br />
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The night before the 20 week ultrasound, Liv said, "Mom, I do NOT want to have a boy baby in our family. If our baby turns into a boy I will not hold it. Only if it is a girl then I will hold it." Liv got her ultimate wish. It turns out she can hold our new baby after all...<br />
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I still can't believe we are going to have three girls! I may have to adopt a son just for a weekend so Garrett can know what a father and son's camp out is. We are going to be doing shopping, tea parties and periods for many many years. Initially I was just feeling grateful that I wasn't married to Henry the 8th so my head can stay on and feeling weird that G is the only man in our family but I am now feeling so excited to have the girl triple play. We are all feeling excited to add her to the team. Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-70983475240381291322015-01-24T19:05:00.002-05:002015-01-24T19:14:25.501-05:00FHE 4 Life. <div style="text-align: center;">
I like to be obedient. In first grade I peed my pants instead of going to the bathroom because the teacher said we could never go unless we asked and got the pass (how degrading is it to walk down a hall announcing your need to go to the bathroom) and the teacher was out of the room. Thus, I carried my pee soaked pants around in a bag all day rather than break a rule. However, some commandments I enjoy keeping more than others. Some commandments I keep because they make sense (don't smoke, don't steal, don't kill people), other commandments I keep because I know there are blessings (fasting, family prayer, and visiting teaching), but some commandments I keep because they are fun. I would say the most fun commandment of them all to me is Family night. I love it. I probably wouldn't invite the prophet to any of our FHE's because our reverence lessons are less than impressive but I wouldn't miss it. Part of the reason they are so fun is because Liv thinks family night is better than a vacation. Not very many commandments include a mandatory treat.</div>
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Liv was in charge of lesson last week and I heard her in my room praying and saying, "Please help me do a good lesson about love and bless my barbies." She spent more time setting up her station with her frozen microphone, getting a skirt on, putting up a table, and handouts the actual lesson itself but we were impressed with her prep.</div>
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2 weeks ago she was on treat. She was very disappointed because she loves to be on lesson or "joke" (whoever has this responsibility has to make up their own joke, the great news is Liv fake laughs no matter what you say). I explained that we were taking a special trip to Walmart and she would be allowed to pick whatever she felt was best to fulfill her treat duty. That seemed to change her mood.</div>
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She found a classy bright green salsa and chip holder and chose animal crackers, chocolate pretzels, and strawberry tooth rotting pop served in tea cups.</div>
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Grace was thrilled with the selection. </div>
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I thought it was really classy that our salsa dish from the dollar store
and the towel matched. Spencer W. Kimball said, "If eight things were
present, we’d have a quality family home evening: a
lesson, scripture reading, music, stories, an activity, prayers,
refreshments, and a relaxed atmosphere with no criticism." Sometimes I
think the only part we are good at is the relaxed atmosphere but I
still really like this tradition every week. Since the girls have the attention span of a Walmart goldfish, our lessons are rarely longer than 3 minutes, our activities usually include bubbles, playdough, dancing to Frozen, or a wild game of go fish and I wouldn't say anyone weeps from an outpouring of the spirit but it is definitely a good time. </div>
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President Kimball also said, "<b> "We cannot impress
too
much the importance of having family home evenings once a week....that
you
may be rewarded by a fulfillment of the <u><span style="color: #666600;">promise</span></u>
that if fathers and mothers will discharge this responsibility,<span style="text-decoration: underline;"> not one
in a hundred of your family, as has been said by the leaders who have
preceded
us, would ever go astray."</span></b></div>
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Of course I don't want my gals to go astray but besides all the blessings and promises <b>attached</b>, there's really not a commandment I can think of that I enjoy more. <b> </b> </div>
Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-36767089497050023312015-01-10T18:54:00.004-05:002015-01-10T18:57:44.258-05:00Content in 2015.I had a a female festivus of chatting yesterday. It was so interesting to me since each one of them is in their own season and world doing whatever they do. My sister Liza is 17 and started telling me all about her life and what was happening in high school.<br />
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Then she said, "I just want your life. Your life is perfect." I immediately told her that I thought she was crazy because I would love to be 17 again. That sounded glorious. Sleeping in until you can't sleep in any more and then doing whatever you want all day. Your biggest stress is who is going to ask you to homecoming and getting your absences excused. When its dinner time you just come walk down to the table and just like magic, dinner is waiting. Friends are your world and finding something fun on Friday night is the only thing you would need to write in a planner (but you don't even need a planner).<br />
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When you need money, you ask your mom. You have no idea what car insurance costs, no need to clean anything but your room that is covered in clothes from your morning stress of trying to pick the right outfit. No car seats. No nursing bras. No puking kids in the night. Your whole life is in front of you just sitting there like a massive blob of playdough waiting for you to make and go and do whatever you choose.<br />
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After we hung up I just thought how easy and fun it would be to be 17 all over again. Right after she called, my 86 year old grandma called. Now there is no proper way to explain how delightful this woman is unless you meet her. She's one of the most attentive listeners you will ever know and has the best sense of humor.<br />
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She was telling me how mad she was that her doctor wasn't listening to her when she wanted to chat and how she knows we are made to self destruct but "nuts to that" because she doesn't want to be old. She told me how she was trying to convince her doctor that she had dementia but he kept insisting that she didn't. She was telling me how inconvenient it is to have to get up to go to the bathroom 5 times a night and how boys are terrible at sharing details and it makes her so peeved. I thought how nice it would be though to just be able to get senior discounts, eat out every night, go on trips and just hang out at your house all day with no obligations or screaming babies. <br />
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A few hours later I had just a few seconds on the phone with my mom who was in the middle of a huge stressful work project and couldn't talk and said she doesn't have a minute to sit down to and relax because of all the people that depend on her and the things that she has to do.<br />
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For a second, I felt jealous that I don't get to work anymore and feel important or that people need me and that my work involves pouring marshmello mateys and watching sesame street instead of working with adults and feeling like you are making a contribution. I felt a bit jealous that she can go to the grocery store without having children climbing on her and can make her own schedule. <br />
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Talking to Em happens more frequently than scripture study in my life. I always love to hear the details of her world. She was showing me on face time the emery boards, the tucks pads and the receiving blankets that are all organized in preparation for the new babe that is due anytime. She was telling me about a conversation she had with her husband and showed me her boy (whom I adore), and talking in full sentences as they ate their nutritious healthy lunch . Think of every good mother you've ever met and then roll that into one person and times it by a zillion and then you will be in the ballpark of the kind of mother my sister Em is. It blows my mind. Every time. <br />
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After I hung up I just wished so bad that I could be the kind of mom that my sister is and have the perfect flawless fun marriage that I always imagine she has.<br />
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I then got a text from my sister in law Bethany who is married and has no kids yet and it wanting to go to Europe this year. I thought, "Sheesh, I'm looking forward to going to Costco as my highlight this week. I wanna go to Europe!" <br />
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Finally it was time to put my best friend and side kick to bed. Every night after prayers, stories and teeth brushing we have time where I climb on her bunk bed and we just "talk about the day". We discuss what was our favorite highlights, what we didn't like and what we want to do tomorrow. <br />
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In the middle of our conversation she said very concerned, "Mom, can you tell me who I am going to marry? Do I marry dad like you or do I get a different one? I want to know his name." I have no idea why she was worried about finding her eternal mate but it was such strange thought to me to realize that one day Liv would be married and have girls of her own too. So many women. So many stages of life.<br />
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What I felt bothered about was how many times during the day I wanted to be in a different stage of life, trade in who I was to be someone else, or get my money back and a refund on my current challenges and season of life.<br />
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I found a book that I had bought awhile ago and started to read it. Within the first 3 pages there were a quote that rang so true to my soul that I am putting it up in my bathroom to read every day. It's by Marjorie Hinckley:<br />
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<b>"We women have a lot to learn about simplifying our lives. We have to decide what is important and then move along at a pace that is comfortable for us. We have to develop the maturity to stop trying to prove something. We have to learn to be content with what we are." </b><br />
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It's nothing extremely deep but I know that needs to be who I am this year. Every stage, every season, every woman has things that they want to be different. I need to learn to be content with where and who I am. Because who I have with me in all my stages really is a gift.<br />
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Later in the book Marjorie said, <b>"Fifty was my favorite age. It takes about that long to learn to quite competing, to be yourself and settle down to living. It is the age I would like to be through all eternity!" </b><br />
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I don't need to wait to be 50 to settle down to living. I need to do that now. It is a new year after all. Who knew Marjorie would know the key to my 2015 success?Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-41171285548375642202015-01-05T22:58:00.002-05:002015-01-05T23:32:03.513-05:00Our not so hot hot day....Grace is sick. She threw up on Christmas vacation but after our night of sleeping in barf chunks, I thought she was better...and then she got pneumonia so we had a lock down day of germs. We tried to make the "cloud dough" from pinterest that supposedly was soft and life changing but all it did was dye Liv's hands bright blue and felt like snot and cornstach mixed together. It's what we call a complete pinterest bust.<br />
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So we spent the rest of the day rotting our brains watching PBS kids, sipping juice and doing photo shoots of Liv's princess collection:<br />
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(Is it just me or is Rapunzel's hair frozen at a really awkward direction? There's no way any hairspray could keep it like that.)<br />
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Technically this goes ON things like waffles or bread, but it was the kind of day where I just resorted to sticking a spoon right in and going wild. It was the highlight of the day. If you don't have a jar of this in your house this minute, you need some. It is life changing. We were wasting the day of our mortal probation just fine when the door knocked...<br />
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We were in no state to be accepting visitors of any kind. Grace was naked with juice and pink amoxicillin stains on her cheeks, Liv was still rocking her smurf hands from the cloud dough disaster and I was makeup less, bra less, shower free and basically the stereotype of everything that someone imagines when they say, "She really let herself go". I took a picture for proof (I'm not one of those women that says, "Sorry my house is so messy" and then pick up the one invisible crumb on the corner of the rug. When I say my house is messy, it looks like a garage sale vomited. When I say I looked disgusting, I mean I look like Quasimodos cousin): <br />
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So I was opened the door a crack hoping that whoever it was wouldn't be able to fully view the fact that I looked like a homeless woman with my naked blue handed children. I saw I woman I did not recognize who looked extremely startled and then awkwardly asked, "Um, hi, I am looking for Garret's hot hot wife?"<br />
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I just stared back wondering what she could be talking about because I was Garretts wife but I was most definitely not hot, let alone two hots. After a few seconds, I realized she was the postman (woman) and she held out a box to clarify. Then we both had a very good laugh together when I said, "Well can't you tell it's me by how hot I am?"<br />
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Whenever I have magazines or boxes delivered to the house I always write in a name that is either embarrassing or awkward or exotic and the package of the day I had just so happened to enter my name as, "Garrett's hot hot wife" on my Amazon order.<br />
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The moral of this story is don't believe the Pinterest cloud dough recipe, and don't write your name as a title on packages that you can't fulfill. I'm hoping next time I can live up to whatever I've written and the post woman can recognize who it is for....Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-20983750989271904972015-01-05T22:58:00.001-05:002015-01-05T22:58:07.689-05:00Seibold Style Family Christmas...<div style="text-align: center;">
Some people tolerate their in laws like they do baking soda in their toothpaste...you know it's probably good for you although, not pleasant or something to look forward to. I have no such baking soda toothpaste feelings. I hit the in law jack pot. I mean, marrying Garrett was the best scam I've ever pulled, but the bonus is that all his siblings are some of my favorite people on this planet. In case you don't know them, let me show you what you missed...</div>
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In case you were curious, passenger's legs also transform into a diaper changing table at 70 mph. The more you know.</div>
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The girls passed out from excitement and eager anticipation on our trip down...</div>
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What better way to kick of the trip than a trip to Wally's palace? It would be one of about 19 trips there over the course of our extended stay.</div>
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Kerry always gets so excited when I come. When you have a model for a sister in law it's important to document all less than model like faces for posterity.</div>
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Uncle Tay was the equivalent of Chuck E Cheese and provided hours of entertainment for the kid club.</div>
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Christmas eve was a hit with a program, a "talent" show (and I use the word talent loosely here), and a white elephant gift exchange.</div>
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Sharky remained preserved as the ultimate gift and made her way to Bruce for a safe haven....until the next gift exchange in 2016. Hopefully she will last that long. Her eyeball is creepy.</div>
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The shock factor game was a new introduction which the girls were not to anxious to play and Tanner took home the prize with the basketball glasses all time high score. </div>
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Liv really hated Christmas morning....</div>
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Kody does an accurate depiction of the internal Christmas morning emotion (Seibolds are all very proficient about internal emotional expression, any external displays of excessive emotion or expression are as rare as a warm Michigan winter). Everyone was obviously very good because there were gifts galore.</div>
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Followed by the ever classic, legendary Seibold tradition rounds and rounds breakfast. Don't even consider in your wildest breakfast dreams calling these pancakes. They are in an completely different phylum. Just ask. </div>
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The male dominated Seibold society looked precious in their matching pajamas.</div>
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Frozen was well represented by each female family member of the next generation.</div>
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The rest of the days were spent swimming in undiluted holiday cheer and family festivus with a casserole of childrens museums, snowmobiling, crater playing, jumpoline action, games galore, swimming, lurping around, shopping, gun shooting, wii, football watching, and talking (with minimal sharing of feelings of course).</div>
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Dyl's moustache is always classy. </div>
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Kneaders dessert night. 2 of the greatest grafted branches on the family tree...<br />
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After shattering the glass table jewelry display at the front of the store... </div>
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Sugar Plum fairies unleashed...</div>
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Shop fest. </div>
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Late night Wendy's date. Traditions must be observed and all times and in all things and in all places. </div>
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I will never celebrate a holiday without Chinese lanterns again. Where have I been? The Chinese think of everything good... food, nintendo and now these babies. </div>
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Tay doesn't like to put his arms around Kerry if she is wearing a snuggie... </div>
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There's nothing more to say other than if you weren't in Heber City with the Seibolds for Christmas, you missed out. Big time. There are still 3 single Seibold men left which are the last three golden tickets to get in this family so don't miss your chance of a lifetime. I love Christmas and I love family so the it was the perfect combo meal for "the most wonderful time of the year". </div>
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This is how I felt when it ended.</div>
<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-16104286365996758182015-01-05T22:57:00.003-05:002015-01-05T22:57:54.967-05:00Nap lessons.<div style="text-align: center;">
By the time you are 75, they say that the average person has slept over 23 years. I would agree that ratio was true over family vacation. I am personally not a nap taker. Whenever I take a nap I wake up not knowing what year it is and feeling like I'm coming out of surgery. The Seibold family is very good a taking naps. Not the kind of nap where you get a blanket, go to your room and set an alarm type of nap, but a one minute they are playing a game or talking and the next minute BAM the eyes are shut and the mouth is wide open like a venus fly trap and they are gone until they resurrect type of nap. The fact that we stayed up far too late and the kids woke everyone up far too early did not help the cause. I finally started documenting all the couch narcolepsy and wish to share this goodness with the public so they can expand their nap horizons. Some naps happened in the vehicle:</div>
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(The sucker was my last defense to keep Grace awake so she would nap at home. I'd rather deal with cavities than a grumpy not fully napped child any day. Hudson is modeling the hood on nap approach. It's important to preserve as much body heat as possible while napping. Liv on the other hand is showing the broken neck position which one must resort to when in an uncomfortable booster seat) </div>
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Hand placement is critical to the classification of the nap. I call this first one the patriotic headache:</div>
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Bruce obviously enjoys the hand over his heart position and one elevated because he did a repeat the next day:</div>
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This one is entitled, "The thinking woman":</div>
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If you tend to sweat while you sleep, it is wise to keep a towel or blanket nearby:</div>
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Brian is modeling for us the phrase, "The children were nestled all snug in their beds" with his hands intertwined and curled oh so preciously under his angelic face.</div>
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Tanner has chosen to nap in the Chinese half bow position. It is a nap that for dynasties has represented respect and honor to the family. </div>
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Some people "Multi task nap", for example, Esther shows how one can be reading one minute and napping the next. </div>
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If you are worried about losing your phone, you may want to adopt the "phone clasp" method utilized by Dylan. Remember, champions never back down from naps:</div>
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Some people are so proud of their muscles, they like to nap while holding on to their bulging bicep...</div>
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One of the most important things you can do during a nap is keep your lips closed so they maintain hydration. Below is an example of two individuals who woke up with dry mouths. Keeping your mouth in the ajar positioned is not advised unless your nose is full of snot:</div>
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Just as killer whales swim in pods, and cows stay in a herd, some people in Seibold family enjoy napping unity and sharing the activity with others. Sometimes there are more people asleep in a room than awake. Oberve:</div>
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The mother/daughter nap is always a bonding experience and comes recommended by psychologists everywhere: </div>
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Couples always look romantic in their engagement photos or on their honeymoon, but there is nothing more romantic than a couple that has taken their love to the next level and nap with their lover. If your love life is lacking that extra spark, it may be smart to take note of these positions:</div>
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(Taylor is modeling the classic "Chicken wing" on the left nap position with his right hand in claw position on his beautiful bride.)</div>
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(Even in his sleep, it was not surprising that Brock supports the game)</div>
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And the grand finale, although not recommended for adults in public, is what we call the bare booty nap demonstrated by Brighton Seibold:</div>
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Hopefully this education post has been helpful in expanding your nap possibilities in the future. If you have any questions, just find the Seibolds and the couch and someone most likely will be giving nap lessons for your observation and viewing pleasure. <br />
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Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-2238562167163602462015-01-05T17:16:00.001-05:002015-01-05T17:16:31.181-05:0024 hours in the promised land of twinkling lights....<div style="text-align: center;">
We are playing SLC tic tac toe because we have gone there three weekends in a row. But when two of your favorite people that you are related to beat the Mormon odds and get the tickets to the Mormon Tabernacle Christmas concert with the chances being one in a jigazillion, it's well worth another trip. We only went down for the one night and it was 5 stars. </div>
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My family was passing through on their way to Salmon Idaho so we made German pancakes. I doubled the recipe assuming we would have leftovers. What I neglected was the fact that my brother eats the same as 4 ox and the pancakes were gone before it even felt like a breakfast appetizer so we followed up with some hearty eggs all around. Liza decided she didn't want to make the trek to Salmon since there is no phone reception so she opted for a roadtrip back to Utah with us...</div>
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Liv always appreciates some back seat company. Anyone with a van knows that getting to the back seat feels the same as trying to put on your hip flare jeans from 7th grade. It's quite a squeeze but Liza didn't mind.</div>
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Not living in a booming metropolis makes you appreciate luxuries like Target so we took our time driving down and soaking up all the magical wonders that the red cart store had to offer (Photo taken by Liv). </div>
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Beth and Brian are two human beings that we wouldn't want to be on a family tree without. This trip only validated our deep devotion to our classy siblings. We made a goal to hang out at least once a month in 2015. I think that is one of the only goals I will be adamant about fulfilling. We went to a restaurant that was as close to Italy as I will probably ever get. Hopefully the pizza will help my bangs to grow out faster...</div>
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The conference center even personalized the security metal detectors. I thought it was a really thoughtful thing to do. </div>
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We went to City Creek, walked around Salt Lake and did the classic temple square lights gig like we were first timers. The program was fabulous. The company was enjoyable. The food was divine. It was an unforgettable and well worthwhile 24 hours. </div>
<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-20270318983575475762014-12-23T16:41:00.002-05:002014-12-23T16:47:20.517-05:00Busy.<div style="text-align: center;">
It's too late. Not even Amazon prime
can save me. The shopping for Christmas window has slammed shut. We are
leaving for Heber to have Christmas with Garrett's family in the
morning and it kinda feels good to not have to log on to "Amazon.com"
for the first time this whole month. Christmas cards are out sitting in
some mail truck and probably won't make it until after Christmas but if
that really offends you, then don't read it and reimburse me my .39
cents later. We spent the last few days trying to get some sub for santa
projects that I procrastinated ready and I was not in the Christmas
cheer.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FCOd3LthBurcND203lCleJxrizFpFHNV_CpicksownZQPg3gQSp2DI8eDvKO3JMCCghwGevl9Wjcu0Q9tNsAddR-h50UHWPEa7cAoJ1b57ePNkl6Z6bhkWEq3osTH9OuFrJHIWQI5BP2/s1600/4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FCOd3LthBurcND203lCleJxrizFpFHNV_CpicksownZQPg3gQSp2DI8eDvKO3JMCCghwGevl9Wjcu0Q9tNsAddR-h50UHWPEa7cAoJ1b57ePNkl6Z6bhkWEq3osTH9OuFrJHIWQI5BP2/s1600/4.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
This pic accurately depicts our
attitude. No shoes. Grace using the walmart pillow to "rewax" and Liv at
the shopping cart helm grabbing whatever she felt we needed within our
reach. I'm not proud of our lack of classiness. I'm just calling it like
it is. I ran out of paper so the man in the nursing home was getting
his gift wrapped in princess paper, I was trying to pack, I felt
stressed because none of our local neighbor gifts and notes were ready
(the ones with a cute little clever saying and gift like May your days
be merry and "sprite", Hope you get some "dough" for Christmas with
cookie dough etc etc. We had nothing of the sort ready). Our living
room looked like a garage sale vomited and corn dogs heated in microwave
because it was too late for the deluxe gourmet oven cooking was on the
menu for dinner. It was not ideal. I thought to myself how <b>not</b>
Christmasy I was feeling. I just felt chaotic and disorganized. I was
reading an article last night and it gave these definitions:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
Busy (adj): Having a great deal to do</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Full (adj): Abundant, well supplied, filled or rounded out</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I
realized how quickly I get busy and the busier I am, the emptier I
feel. I feel like when you hit your 30's, satan doesn't tempt you with
drugs or immodest clothes (like a bikini would even be a temptation
after having babies...you couldn't pay me to shove my white saggy flesh
into one of those) but can easily make you feel empty simply by getting
you to be too busy instead of full.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1tLxM8qBgpNdwsBd9ryduLKxN68rKFN30QbbTlOB7Aov-jOZ9e6Epj8zFSOidwJgCLyefjlyeWSI-oGm9YCQvTd6A3k_ATV5EVAMvyrIHu7p7ROORjFL8yDRRKqH5tsE6e4f7Dukv5Ef/s1600/IMG_9387.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1tLxM8qBgpNdwsBd9ryduLKxN68rKFN30QbbTlOB7Aov-jOZ9e6Epj8zFSOidwJgCLyefjlyeWSI-oGm9YCQvTd6A3k_ATV5EVAMvyrIHu7p7ROORjFL8yDRRKqH5tsE6e4f7Dukv5Ef/s1600/IMG_9387.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a>In residency Gar was gone. A lot. Ok more like always. One morning after
he had worked all night I came upstairs and saw the the gals had broken
the #1 residency rule of not waking up dad. When I asked Liv about it
she said, "We aren't waking him up, we just wanna be with him. I'm
sleeping too." I forget that "just being" with someone is sometimes more than enough. Children are great at shaking your brain to see things
simply and so much more clearly. Liv said to me the other day, "Mom,
you're being dimpy. Do you know what dimpy means? It means you say that
you want to play with me but then you do something else!" I admit I am
"dimpy" far too much.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCg_b1zsE8ITn73keHvwWkuV2sfslcu7WClzNgbuH9qxplaVgYV-SPf7TOETgwB80H9prHthO5xJ2-9OtjQD9g-N020VzfKXv-QUNgfLyescqSHoNhW-kwWre5f9aQQeZ7j6LEo7A2dWp/s1600/IMG_0923.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCg_b1zsE8ITn73keHvwWkuV2sfslcu7WClzNgbuH9qxplaVgYV-SPf7TOETgwB80H9prHthO5xJ2-9OtjQD9g-N020VzfKXv-QUNgfLyescqSHoNhW-kwWre5f9aQQeZ7j6LEo7A2dWp/s1600/IMG_0923.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a> I don't want to be busy in 2015. I don't want to sit home waiting for my
bangs to grow back doing nothing but I do not want to be busy with a
bunch of styrofoam peanut filler like activities that don't last and
don't matter. I want to have a full life, not a busy one.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyLFbLX_kYL8gxO-zR9-x2uWnu58FWn_fzVsF0Oj9Mx7EFRAJStbzd9X3VnkeTRw-T9kuJ6BimSwLs2z9_FjSRgcSDi6Ihfs_-C-O0eLalit6JvQgUUm9rhHd_Sakf8F8v3AIUTOdlOPci/s1600/DSC04382.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyLFbLX_kYL8gxO-zR9-x2uWnu58FWn_fzVsF0Oj9Mx7EFRAJStbzd9X3VnkeTRw-T9kuJ6BimSwLs2z9_FjSRgcSDi6Ihfs_-C-O0eLalit6JvQgUUm9rhHd_Sakf8F8v3AIUTOdlOPci/s1600/DSC04382.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a><br />
Full of feeling like this and creating joy in the mundane blah blah ordinary not Disneyland days.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2dxaHaDOQEN2houqVK4spbogFEy5YcWIkp-6CLo5coI4IQypEcWwnsJ1QrTNUWQFrh9gTVtFxvZK2zBrlxXXclI6u7bkV6o3boApSA-P7KiSraNmz20AdnM-47szCxHA_NJHvCDO7jTal/s1600/IMG_9183.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2dxaHaDOQEN2houqVK4spbogFEy5YcWIkp-6CLo5coI4IQypEcWwnsJ1QrTNUWQFrh9gTVtFxvZK2zBrlxXXclI6u7bkV6o3boApSA-P7KiSraNmz20AdnM-47szCxHA_NJHvCDO7jTal/s1600/IMG_9183.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a><br />
Full of not caring how I look, but more how my soul feels and doing things that make it so I'm not spiritually anorexic.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbhHLUOCS-9efmbGMTN7yWzLDXAdMrPA9z5Mud4z_Zuv1-3HsqEl8rHv2QlpYCQN_uOtbyl2m4B2FJsvN_6buLhQSIPaVXKNiOPKKF2kJ-Tt2NqdRcAzXNZsLzWoDHYK8e2l25l7k_gvm/s1600/IMG_3104.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbhHLUOCS-9efmbGMTN7yWzLDXAdMrPA9z5Mud4z_Zuv1-3HsqEl8rHv2QlpYCQN_uOtbyl2m4B2FJsvN_6buLhQSIPaVXKNiOPKKF2kJ-Tt2NqdRcAzXNZsLzWoDHYK8e2l25l7k_gvm/s1600/IMG_3104.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
Full of taking better care of my dang body and eating less crap.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhstwIZcrKOjq5XeV0UtN-NJ2Ix9rlhbkWQS1Tuk1XgyHz-B8Glc_mOTTwWBVbVOwGq1R-JKW5VAClG7Ut6WR5_eI8dAtaJ0TFmXm7F63SAdReLmiJjyM7ay7h79wNFlL6dAWpPIMhACrAR/s1600/IMG_1299.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhstwIZcrKOjq5XeV0UtN-NJ2Ix9rlhbkWQS1Tuk1XgyHz-B8Glc_mOTTwWBVbVOwGq1R-JKW5VAClG7Ut6WR5_eI8dAtaJ0TFmXm7F63SAdReLmiJjyM7ay7h79wNFlL6dAWpPIMhACrAR/s1600/IMG_1299.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a>Full of reading that entire bookshelf of books I have downstairs that have never been touched except when I bought them. And doing something so my brain doesn't mold and only have stimulation from Sesame street or learning a new spanish palabra (word) on Dora the Explorer. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2QJVVM79PDTXgu9SfIQsckXBWnm3smc51u3CPN1OEbKr3Hue_aAtZ1IdCFQvnZT_d6YRZKmXuyuJyKe02P3Pd7n5Uv9wQkfBTc2ukk62xgq75CSiaeB-d_YsFYKaSJIKtkQYqaHjXjDFa/s1600/IMG_9832.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2QJVVM79PDTXgu9SfIQsckXBWnm3smc51u3CPN1OEbKr3Hue_aAtZ1IdCFQvnZT_d6YRZKmXuyuJyKe02P3Pd7n5Uv9wQkfBTc2ukk62xgq75CSiaeB-d_YsFYKaSJIKtkQYqaHjXjDFa/s1600/IMG_9832.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a>Full of spontaneous moments that are not at all part of the responsible routine.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPiMY5iSoRaQItcmZ490BTVhC4lGE6YNvxGAh6eyoNiZV94iOvZEmnTS3xpElE3UVWtINA2a5SIkXeB8lG7x2IT23RY2obqAb2-M9Vowk-JjWZBaioKNG7LR50BpFXuKU6X6vQU0LYEct/s1600/IMG_0060.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPiMY5iSoRaQItcmZ490BTVhC4lGE6YNvxGAh6eyoNiZV94iOvZEmnTS3xpElE3UVWtINA2a5SIkXeB8lG7x2IT23RY2obqAb2-M9Vowk-JjWZBaioKNG7LR50BpFXuKU6X6vQU0LYEct/s1600/IMG_0060.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a>Full of doing something to develop a talent or learn something or do
something to create beauty instead of just surviving the day and letting time evaporate.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93kivKhpwfkS9Ne9IH2arCjYXzpH0IA7vD9-mzYLHpTIZYmKShwewYcCCkzVR3GxZ0cBWIFl4L0DUtc-z1ziSkwKxx1Fv_vbxcd6CX5r2LapJMe-k_JVOo1VUZQ8fgb0QSfO6tyzXceIA/s1600/IMG_3360.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93kivKhpwfkS9Ne9IH2arCjYXzpH0IA7vD9-mzYLHpTIZYmKShwewYcCCkzVR3GxZ0cBWIFl4L0DUtc-z1ziSkwKxx1Fv_vbxcd6CX5r2LapJMe-k_JVOo1VUZQ8fgb0QSfO6tyzXceIA/s1600/IMG_3360.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Full of quality time with these humans that are all mine.</div>
I really love this season so dang much. Busy or not, it really is the most wonderful time of the year. </div>
</div>
Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-18131143381493152582014-12-16T18:13:00.001-05:002014-12-16T18:13:37.676-05:00Weekly highlights...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQNFWAo-LI_5Y6ybuq3oL40NoZ4Xut0OrWBMV2hV6-Bi7jQ4cLUhViBw-M5lOKbql3tee13S9icjcTzF4Bd9S-y7kU3BYa9BcewXiUbgDLN_mPzEsVUuxqG6ioBENQfATS-ci1gwVcbY/s1600/IMG_2981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQNFWAo-LI_5Y6ybuq3oL40NoZ4Xut0OrWBMV2hV6-Bi7jQ4cLUhViBw-M5lOKbql3tee13S9icjcTzF4Bd9S-y7kU3BYa9BcewXiUbgDLN_mPzEsVUuxqG6ioBENQfATS-ci1gwVcbY/s1600/IMG_2981.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Real Christmas trees. Who knew? I have a firm testimony of fake trees but I married a man who has a deep abiding vision of us with an axe in the freshly fallen snow chopping down our tree together. I couldn't quite make the leap from fake tree to the woods with coyotes howling this year so we ended up at a tree lot. The girls look miserable but they loved it. Liv brought a dollar with her and gave it to the man to buy our tree. He said it cost $42 and she said, "Well then count that dollar and see if it's 42!" I love her brain. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIp15IWd8ABSfOorwmUjWe1pRmly965uaqjv3S9gycxRIGmHWPGU4PIkkGQzq29mkJTlVjB-Q_2Lpx1hpfgI-qcYFFep_mrQKraieDCPEY6XfVZ98YiYLrPswV1XQFkupXIbUyW1-UJc/s1600/IMG_3107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVIp15IWd8ABSfOorwmUjWe1pRmly965uaqjv3S9gycxRIGmHWPGU4PIkkGQzq29mkJTlVjB-Q_2Lpx1hpfgI-qcYFFep_mrQKraieDCPEY6XfVZ98YiYLrPswV1XQFkupXIbUyW1-UJc/s1600/IMG_3107.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This needs to stop. The first time she did it was funny. Maybe funny. This was the third day in a row and it was no longer funny. In case you were wondering, vaseline in hair is like nasty slime and it doesn't come out unless you use cornmeal. Cornmeal baths are weird. Vaseline is a mess. I also think petroleum jelly is one of the most awkward words in the English language. Right up there with puberty and moist. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFIFt0BnDz-FB75hYKMoRznfeFA6iZyDKYf3oP14sVcHIC7julUy_0aLqu_CfXOjkOpFiKuvCaKMpI5A9XFJHoXT_xOl8CH42_J2qVHlVY2cl7qSE02mKvrU0Zawr8ywUAb3Ce3Yq7zt0/s1600/IMG_3242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFIFt0BnDz-FB75hYKMoRznfeFA6iZyDKYf3oP14sVcHIC7julUy_0aLqu_CfXOjkOpFiKuvCaKMpI5A9XFJHoXT_xOl8CH42_J2qVHlVY2cl7qSE02mKvrU0Zawr8ywUAb3Ce3Yq7zt0/s1600/IMG_3242.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The girls and I may or may not have a secret weekly habit of getting a lottery ticket. I let Liv pick it and Grace gets it out. It's a family activity...ok its a girls activity that Gar has no idea about, but when we win big we will let him in on it. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYy07lzOG8IqgOALlNhuo-MYXZ9r0QFND334ZWVmqx04wtdaFS38zQVWm4EhmHP-rm_nxqB5FGuHjffIsDVS6vv4rFeApK7flKVlhoouPlLJ3PtYR5aZuZTyQshW_hIPkX4KdqULmr_Sw/s1600/IMG_3010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYy07lzOG8IqgOALlNhuo-MYXZ9r0QFND334ZWVmqx04wtdaFS38zQVWm4EhmHP-rm_nxqB5FGuHjffIsDVS6vv4rFeApK7flKVlhoouPlLJ3PtYR5aZuZTyQshW_hIPkX4KdqULmr_Sw/s1600/IMG_3010.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We have a lot of "You know you're in Idaho when..." moments but this was a fun one. We love our friend LeeAnn and the fact that she has horses rocks Liv's world.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIB2w5DM3nKNdqDo4BgkCQyILBQfTSBlnqC8e18VDrFom4XpVzDZQZ36PgoaFRo54YvU4eX0qa5eSZgMYNDUXP4hobWcJwQlO5PgPPswWmrx1bC1lZfLjyoI7Yg8DEA42eB35qpFaTwI/s1600/IMG_3222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIB2w5DM3nKNdqDo4BgkCQyILBQfTSBlnqC8e18VDrFom4XpVzDZQZ36PgoaFRo54YvU4eX0qa5eSZgMYNDUXP4hobWcJwQlO5PgPPswWmrx1bC1lZfLjyoI7Yg8DEA42eB35qpFaTwI/s1600/IMG_3222.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
If you don't have a 3 year old this Christmas, you need to adopt one. It is more than magical. Every night they read books by the tree and I love how much she loves every single thing about this season.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicuGhZWrHTeFiPv7cPZyHj4zZXBsUBC12rbtB-TqJz8G3_fNrsa-Ht2oMPN6QUyGh6zZl4WnonFtu2myNFIrRZMaqLEFbYvOPhHcvLaXhrubC_eGDJomCNlJTGzy8lm9pciIHephbyUCk/s1600/IMG_3068.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicuGhZWrHTeFiPv7cPZyHj4zZXBsUBC12rbtB-TqJz8G3_fNrsa-Ht2oMPN6QUyGh6zZl4WnonFtu2myNFIrRZMaqLEFbYvOPhHcvLaXhrubC_eGDJomCNlJTGzy8lm9pciIHephbyUCk/s1600/IMG_3068.PNG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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If I ever want to make Liv's day, I don't buy her a new barbie or take her to the zoo...all I have to do is give her an entire roll of tape and there's nothing better. This was one of those days. Who doesn't want a tape wand? </div>
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For $6.99 each I thought it was a pretty good deal. I wouldn't want a 12 pack of children, just these two for now. They are my life. </div>
Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-10830471668047137602014-12-16T17:17:00.001-05:002014-12-16T17:17:48.753-05:00Beauty from within...and without. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hair is a big deal. Unless you don't have it and then it is not a problem. It's a relationship that is similar to dating because you have a lot of trust in the person who you commit your hair follicles to. Sometimes you stay with the hairdresser in a relationship that is not good but because you can't find anyone else you want to commit to. Sometimes it is too risky to have to break up with your old hairdresser to go back to a first date basis with someone who doesn't know your hair desires or vision at all. Girl hair is especially complicated. It's complicated because usually what you imagine yourself looking like in your brain is always a little different than what you walk out looking like in reality. The best hair dressers make it so that difference stays "a little" in the discrepancy and not a massive irreparable chasm. Because we moved it was my first date/appointment with a new hairdresser. Let me take you on a little tour of my brain to show you what I was expecting and what I showed the new replacement/rebound:</div>
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This coloring (obviously my brain knows I'm not going to walk out with Pantene Pro V locks of lusciousness) With this cut: <br />
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Well. I did my job and sat there very patiently while my head started to look like a baked potato in the microwave and anxiously anticipated my flowing new color with swoopy side bangs that would not look momish in the slightest....<br />
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Everything was going great in my brain hair files. I was anticipating the swoopy bangs being a little shorter since the new lady did not use scissors...she pulled out a razor. I felt a little nervous but I was trying to be trusting. Until I looked in the mirror and saw this:<br />
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The cut was so uneven that I put it in a pony tail but even if you have not been to beauty school, it is not very hard to assess that this is not beauty (Yes, beauty comes from within but in this scenario, the beauty on the out was making it hard for me to feel beauty anywhere). If you are wondering why I felt a bit disgruntled, you may look at the above pictures that I showed her and then you will see why I have that facial expression. </div>
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I will not be posting pictures for awhile. I will be sitting in my tower like Quasimodo waiting for my bangs to grow. Lesson learned, never break up with your hairdresser, even if it is a long distance relationship. </div>
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<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-85310817123741326862014-12-16T16:56:00.002-05:002014-12-16T16:56:24.965-05:00T-day. <div style="text-align: center;">
Thanksgiving. If you asked me to make stuffing and I turkey I would just awkwardly stare at you because I have never made either, nor have I ever had the need to make them because we rotate going to my house or Garrett's house every year....and it's dreamy. The longer I don't live right by my family the more I treasure every single dang second and hate how quickly the time seems to evaporate when we are together. This year was no exception. I love being with my family. They are my people. There is no feeling on earth like walking in the door to your own home and seeing your own species, your people. Em and Nick recently moved to Arizona so they said they were not going to be able to come. I could have not been more delighted than when this sight walked through the door at 11 pm:</div>
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It was complete. All the siblings in all their glory were having a sleepover just like the old days (plus spouses and offspring).</div>
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We took the girls to the Bean museum and I bought them all bouncy balls. The bean museum has a massive elevator (I imagine to accommodate transporting large dead stuffed animals) which made for a great place to bounce as many balls as you could everywhere in the elevator box. It was just as fabulous as I was hoping it would be.</div>
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Since we probably won't be going to Africa anytime soon I thought the Bean museum lion display would be a great place to expose our children to the animals. McKall disagreed.</div>
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Garret and I won the $20 at the annual family bow and arrow/bb gun shooting contest in the backyard. Our pilgrim ancestors would have been oh so proud...</div>
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Unfortunately our bowling skills were not as sharp as our archery skills and we miserably lost the bowling challenge. </div>
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There is no Thanksgiving at the Savio house without the usual Indian name headbands to eat the feast with. This year was no exception. The day after we lurped around, played Settlers of Catan, ate on a glutenous level of consumption, visited Gram in Provo, went to Swig, visited the reindeer at Thanksgiving point, shopped, went to the discovery museum, talked and laughed until our contacts were dried to our eyeballs and it was so late it was irresponsible when you have children but nobody cared because it was well worth every minute. </div>
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I always see those cheesy Deseret Book quotes that say, "Family is everything", but even if I don't buy them stitched on a pillow or framed for $29.95, I honestly believe that. The older I get, the truer it is. </div>
<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-15556116072135152172014-11-16T01:02:00.001-05:002014-11-16T01:03:57.161-05:00Doggett Reunion in the rain...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Once upon a time, a very long time ago we moved to West Virginia for the first year of residency. I don't talk about it very often because it gives me PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) when I reflect back on living in a place that I couldn't have imagined. I honestly had no idea in my Utah bubble brain that places like that existed in America. They deep fried their bologna sandwiches. They call the carts, "buggies" in an accent that you have to train yourself to understand. We literally lived in the middle of absolute nowhere in a house the size of a hamster cage. We drove away with a moving truck on Liv's 10th day of being alive. It was all very awesome as you can imagine. Me, with raging post birth hormones and emotions still using an ice pack with a 10 day old screeching baby moving away from my dream job, every friend, family member and thing I knew and loved. Let us not dwell on the negative because there was one bright shining star of redemption that lived right across the street.... The Doggett family. </div>
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When I met Tara she was 7 months pregnant and they were living in their own hamster cage with Casey in his third year of residency. I honestly feel like meeting Tara was like meeting a helicopter during the Titanic. Their boys were Liv's protectors and her very first friends on Earth.</div>
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When Casey graduated and they moved back to Washington, there was clearly no point in staying in West Virginia so we transferred to Denver (also a modern day miracle and evidence that Heavenly Father knew I would shrivel up like a social barnacle and die in that "wild and wonderful" place) and we promised that we would get together someday when we both didn't qualify for WIC and live in a crazy town. Well, that prophecy came true. There was a medical conference in Seattle and it was a no brainer. An epic reunion was in order. It was so funny to go from this:<br />
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To This:<br />
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Liv and Arianna who could barely sit up when we last saw her were now both capable of talking like an adult and throwing a great tantrum. It was so fun to see Elliot, Levi and Arianna again. Grace obviously had no recognition of anybody but she was thrilled to be there just the same. We loved every minute of being in Spokane and then heading to Seattle.<br />
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We stayed in downtown Seattle and could walk to the Space needle and anywhere we wanted to be. We rode the monerail, went to Pikes market, ate heavenly Thai food, went to the childrens science center and saw as many sights as you can see when you have 5 kids under 5.<br />
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(Liv was really into reading her map the whole walk over to the science center.<br />
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Being at Pikes market did not inhibit Grace from having a fabulous tantrum right on the floor. <br />
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We rode a ferris wheel over the pier and it was just as delightful as it sounded. Liv was thrilled. <br />
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I was completely mesmerized by the human statues. <br />
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We soaked up every second in the rain. Touching sea anemones. Authentic pizzarias. More cultural diversity than Liv has seen in her whole lifetime. Umbrellas. Laughing. Eating Chocolate molten lava cake in the hotel lounge. Levi asking if the homeless man was real. Chipotle. Swimming in an lukewarm pool for hours. Butterfly pavilon.<br />
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Grace had some very clean sleeping quarters. </div>
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We absolutely loved Seattle. But even more than that we love the Doggett family. You know you are real friends when years can pass and it feels like you just hung out an hour ago when you see them. This may have been the first reunion but it will not be the last. </div>
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Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-73021860531860774212014-11-14T13:44:00.003-05:002014-11-14T13:44:27.949-05:00Em and Cole come to town...<div style="text-align: center;">
Em moved to Arizona. I have to write it so that my mind will hopefully one day fully process that implications of that news. Em moved to Arizona. It felt like she was as permanent as Macey's grocery store in Provo because she had been there for so long but suddenly Nick got a new job and BAM they were moving. Not moving, moved. They are currently wearing sun screen and playing with lizards next to their pomegranate tree while I am digging around finding socks for Liv to wear on her hands because I can't find any gloves for the snow. Anyway, even though she had only been away three weeks, she decided to come for a week to stay and it was heaven. As usual.</div>
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Unless your arms are amputated, nails is a classic activity that is timeless as bras. It just has to be done any time there is a gathering of females. It's just the way it is.</div>
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Since American Falls doesn't have many world renowned sights and activities, taking them to the pharmacy was a big event for us. It was delightful. I would say the Rockland Pharmacy is by far one of the top 2 highlights of things to do in this town. We are clearly still working on Grace's forced smile...</div>
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We also had the honor of being chosen as the chili cook off judges at the scarecrow and chili feed auction so we gave Em and Cole a taste of the town and they were thoroughly impressed. </div>
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It's safe to say that there is no one my girls mutually adore more than cousin Cole. We are all very well trained professionals at lurping around and staying in our pajamas so that is precisely what we did...</div>
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We also went to the big city and did a little shopping. I wanted to put my hand over my heart when we walked into Targets hallowed halls. It had been far too long.</div>
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We also discovered a pumpkin patch that puts commercialized Cornbellys to shame. We found the real deal, saw off your own, take a tractor to the field pumpkin patch and it was the most quintessential fall thing I have done thus far. Observe.</div>
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It looks fake. But its real. Idaho crisp fall air, green tractor type of real. It was so delightful.</div>
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It even came complete with "dig for your own potatoes" in a bin. I'm telling you, this state gets better every day.</div>
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In case you can't tell, she doesn't have a black eye, she is a puppy. Free face painting was only the beginning of our perks. </div>
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It was fall at its finest. We finished by picking up Wingers salads for dinner and then after the sidekicks were asleep we watched Shark Tank and then just talked about nothing. And there's nothing I love more. </div>
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It always feels like too long until we see them again. Cole will give Grace the emotional support she needs in the meantime...</div>
<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-90702839352255560032014-11-13T16:25:00.003-05:002014-11-13T16:25:56.069-05:00Polish Party in the Lovely Deseret....I just ripped off the whole month of October from our calendar and it didn't even have a thing written down because it went too fast. We kicked it off by going to Conference in Utah where Garrett had a Polish mission reunion.<br />
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The Polish was really fun....for everyone that spoke Polish. We did sealings before the dinner....in Polish. All the Elders (former) were in heaven. All the wives had glazed eyes since we sat for 2 hours without understanding anything. I think I feel the spirit and concentrate much better in English.<br />
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While the men all went to Priesthood we went with the ladies to Riverwoods...<br />
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We made wishes in the fountain, ate chocolate apples at the Rocky Mountain Chocolate factory (if you haven't partaken of such a dessert, you must make all the necessary sacrifices to do so).<br />
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We also enjoyed Bikenstaffs childrens toy store where you can ride a rocking horse the size of a real pony. It smells much nicer. And the back isn't sweaty. I like horseback riding except I have always had a problem with the fact that the horses back is disgustingly sweaty. Lets get back to the recap and not linger on sweaty horses.<br />
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We spent the night at my grandma Harris' house. I know everyone loves their grandma but if you met my grandma you would feel raging jealousy that she isn't on your family tree. There's not a better 85 year old anywhere. She's more entertaining than watching a redbox and has the most delightful personality of anyone I know.<br />
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Coming to Utah is always a treat but one of the added bonuses is the fact that Liv and Grace basically feel like they are at Disneyland. In fact Disneyland might be a bit of a let down because I don't think Micky would be nearly as interested in giving them attention as my family is. Liv loves being in charge and had the whole family hold up these ripped pieces of paper. She didn't have a plan, she just liked the power and had everyone pass them back in and then after she had collected them she passed them back out... you get the idea.</div>
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Liv's face in this photo accurately depicts her feelings about being at my moms house.</div>
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Em and Cole flew into Provo on Sunday so Grace was beyond delighted to have her best friend back. </div>
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Even though I didn't grow up in Lehi and have lived in 4 different houses in the last 4 years, it always always feels like nowhere else on Earth to pull up in the driveway and be home. Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-29488383302940894942014-09-18T17:54:00.001-04:002014-09-18T17:54:32.097-04:00It's been quite a year...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Happy one year anniversary of not writing on the blog to me. Since Garrett got 5 new wives, I figured I should start documenting things of such epic proportions and have recommitted to writing. The rebirth of commitment is not because people read it, but because I need to write it. I realize that if I don't write it, life just seems to pass by like a blurry fog and I don't want to forget moments that seem to just evaporate. Thankfully, these women are not Garrett's new wives, just the other graduates from residency.<br />
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There are few things as liberating as shaking the shackles of residency and driving away from him working insane hours every week making less than the cashier at Little Ceasars. I can honestly say residency was just as miserable and horrible as I heard. I like to call Rose hospital the marriage wrecking ball plant. I honestly don't think Gar ever left our house later than 6:30 am and more often than not came home long after the girls were asleep and I had heavy eyeballs myself. I'm sure there are a lot of positive ways to talk about how residency brought us closer, how learning to budget and pinch pennies made us stronger, and how the opposition helped us but all I have to say when I think of residency is good riddance. I will forever and ever be thankful to angel friends who literally saved me, helped me, took care of my kids, and were joy bringers into my world. In third grade my teacher, Mrs. Glenn had a sign that said, "A friend is a gift you give yourself." Well, if that is true then I gave myself a lot of gifts in Colorado. I hated saying goodbye. The only thing stronger than that hatred was my loathing of residency so we had to move...<br />
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The new job paid for our move so I spent 3 days with some great moving dudes. Bernie, the 75 year old was my favorite. I told him my grandpa golfs. He told me that he was born working and he would die working. No golf for Bernie. <br />
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We took a few days in our journey and enjoyed staying where Teddy Roosevelt stayed years ago. We knew it was the original hotel because they still haven't installed air conditioning. <br />
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We accidentally packed all our shoes so the girls and I realized that we had no shoes when we tried to drive away. We reached a whole new level of ghetto when we had to walk barefoot into the thrift store on our way out of town. Liv selected some fabulous rain boots which she faithfully wore for the duration of the trip.</div>
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Our first night in Idaho the girls got on this blue sled and we relished the big backyard and they laid in the grass. It smelled like cow poop. The John Deere factory is our next door neighbor. There are potato and sugar beet transporting trucks on the street at the one stop light in town. We had arrived in Idaho. Home sweet home. </div>
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<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-17571405911473050472013-09-20T19:10:00.002-04:002013-09-20T19:11:22.119-04:00Firsts.<div style="text-align: center;">
I decided I want to start a new scrapbook of firsts. I love firsts. The first time you try anything is always and forever a unique and irreplaceable experience. You can never re inact the first of anything because it will always be different and you will know what to expect so your reaction will never be the same. Think about it, some of the most memorable moments in life are firsts. That doesn't necessarily mean they are all positive magical feelings, but memorable. Your first kiss, the first positive pregnancy test, the first time you tried wasabi, your first car, your first home, etc. etc. Many things in life seem less memorable, simply because they happen so often that we forget the "first" affect. Having children makes you stop and realize what a big deal things are because you are watching a mini human have a first EVERYTHING. This week Liv had her first experience with an umbrella.</div>
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There is nothing magnificent about umbrellas. I hardly feel they have any "wow" factor at all until I saw how stunned Liv was at the entire concept. She sat outside the sliding glass door under her umbrella in complete amazement that she was dry while having all the perks of warm rain around her for a very very long time. </div>
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Liv also got her first library card this week. By the way the woman was giving her the information, you would have thought it was a temple recommend. </div>
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Liv had her first sip of pop awhile ago and it was memorable for everyone. </div>
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However, all first pale in comparison to this....</div>
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Boom baby. That's right. Put on your plastic jewel shoes because it be potty training time at the Seibolds.... If you have any advice, please feel free to call; or drop off your best carpet cleaner. </div>
Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-40928119943020982192013-09-20T17:38:00.002-04:002013-09-20T17:40:49.512-04:00Liv the problem solver.Liv's brain is reaching new levels of processing and it freaks my mother mind out. When she was first born, it was the same as having a really high maintenance puppy that wasn't potty trained. Then she transformed into a pet parrot that would repeat phrases or words without any comprehension of what they meant. Now she is starting to think things through and attempt to solve her problem. For example, a few weeks ago she wanted to take a bath. I was busy feeding Grace so I yelled up to her that I would get her bath ready in a few minutes. When I came upstairs I saw this:<br />
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She had gotten a stool, filled the sink, and was taking her own bath (not to mention put on her usual bracelet assortment which she insists on wearing daily). Genius. I mean obviously the sink is just a mini tub.<br />
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I need to be careful to not use the phrase "get ready" because I made the mistake of telling Liv we needed to "get ready" to go to the park, I walked in to this. Obviously mascara is an important part of getting ready, and getting Grace ready as well. I scrubbed their faces but they definitely both had a little bit of a gothic going down the slide.<br />
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When Liv's friend Ashton came over I told them it was too cold to go outside so she brought me the following classy options for winter wear. They were a back yard fashion statement.<br />
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Whenever we go shopping I have to check Liv's backpack and the cart because she loves to "do shopping" and anything she feels we need she takes the liberty to add to our cart.<br />
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Last month I told Liv we were going to Arbys and to get ready. She came back with this:<br />
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Clearly, Arby's sounds like Barbies so what better way to prepare for a roast beef delight than stuffing your shirt with barbies?<br />
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I had to run upstairs to get something and left Liv with Grace. When I came down I saw this: <br />
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Liv obviously found a great place that I had never considered for fruit loop storage. She is prepared. <br />
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We have been attempting to potty train and Liv practices using toilet paper often so it will be an easy transition from wipes when the time arrives (you can see her penitent face since I obviously did not respond with enthusiasm when I saw the toilet)...<br />
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And just so Grace doesn't feel lonely, she makes sure to provide a baby next to her in the mornings...<br />
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So if you need any of your problems solved or feel the need to be better prepared... I recommend calling Liv. <br />
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(And yes, I did do her hair prior to this pic. No matter what it always ends up like this so don't judge).Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-27794407085757924742013-09-19T17:58:00.000-04:002013-09-19T19:25:05.560-04:00This is the place...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Warning: this is an avalanche of photos about our week to Utah. I am 30 but I love going home more now than I ever have. I feel like the older I get, the more I love to go home and everything that entails. </div>
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I didn't ask Liv to smile. This was her face when I turned around after we landed in Salt Lake and she was sitting in her carseat with the full light and knowledge that she was going to grandmas house.</div>
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Who wouldn't want to come to grandma's house? I woke up in the morning to this sight. My mom had made fresh peach parfaits for breakfast and set up a table IN the chicken/turkey/turtle pen so they could eat with the animals. Think of it as breakfast at the petting zoo. Liv was delighted.</div>
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Who needs to pay for the zoo when you can have this going on in your backyard?</div>
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Liv loved that Aunt Liza was just a bedroom away and spent as much time as she could... </div>
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It's so fun to bring my girls home and watch the siblings that I love, love the people I love. </div>
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You should feel slightly sad if you missed our first family poker night...</div>
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Or swinging time in the back yard.</div>
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Grace was crying because she wished that she could be in the tub...</div>
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Or outside play time next to the great wall of sunflowers.</div>
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Liv loved grandma greats house. This horse was a toy that my mom played on so technically Liv was rocking on some generational heritage at my grandmas...Long live Brownie the horse. </div>
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We loved our duck fest feeding day at Em's house.</div>
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With plenty of cousin time and a bread making class...</div>
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We followed the craze and had a sisters outing to the new "Slurps" and we were not disappointed. </div>
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Uncle Ben spent the night and we had a great time being around him and his dog food carrying muscles.</div>
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Liv was exhausted every night from playing all day and really wanted to have a sleepover with Liza and grandma.</div>
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We loved craft time, lunch and going shopping with Aunt B. </div>
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Liv reached expert level at gathering eggs with Grandma.</div>
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It was non stop pretending.</div>
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And soaking up Aunt Liza.Who knew my girls would have a model for an aunt?</div>
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Liv loved grocery shopping and getting whatever she touched... </div>
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Only at a Utah Garage sale can you find treasures like this for sale...</div>
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We will definitely be going back. I love home. I love all the things make home feel like home and even though I have my own home, it always feels like home to walk through the door because of the people that live there. As cheesy as red slipper Dorthy and her munchkin land were, there really is no place like home.</div>
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<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-74001625792629285202013-09-19T14:40:00.001-04:002013-09-19T14:40:40.878-04:00Tennis time.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am not athletic. I want to be athletic. In my mind I am very athletic and my arms don't jiggle at all. In reality, everything jiggles and I look awkward if I even run. It's the truth. It's pitiful but oh so true. I have always secretly wanted to be good at tennis. So when I signed up for some cheap community lessons last month that just met on Saturday morning I decided to make my secret a reality. Well, it became even more real when in the whole city of Aurora I was the ONLY person to sign up so I ended up having private lessons with a hip fit very athletic coach named Yadi. I still look ridiculous when I try to be athletic but I loved the lessons. I am not used to running as you can see clearly by my sweating red face.</div>
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So we decided on Saturday to have a little tennis date and play doubles with our friends Matt and Amelia. It was actually a triple date since Liv and Grace joined us on the sidelines. While we played, they ate enough Gerber puffs to constipate them both but it was well worth it.</div>
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My doubles partner. Basically my partner in everything, but on this particular day it was tennis.</div>
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Gar is athletic so the fact that he married someone from the non athletic species requires a lot of patience on his part. He does a fantastic job with not comparing me to Venus Williams and making me feel like a champion when it goes over the net.</div>
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All bad shots were forgotten when we left the court to dine at Garbonzos which is my number one favorite restaurant at present. Who knew bean balls called falafels could be so divine? If you come, I will personally take you because everyone needs to experience the Mediterranean goodness. </div>
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If it looks weird to you, don't be alarmed, that is normal. But once you taste it, your dietary life will be changed forever. </div>
<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-89233320698581233942013-09-15T17:21:00.003-04:002013-09-15T17:21:31.677-04:00Kay time!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Have you ever eaten something so delicious that you can't stop talking about it and you want everyone to eat there too? That's a little bit how I feel about knowing Kay Thurman. She's one of those women that once you have her in your life, you never want her to leave and you want everyone you know, to know her too so they can experience the joy. I was excited for Grace to meet her even though all she remembers is when its time to eat. I met Kay working as a seminary teacher and I plan on being her friend forever. When I was pregnant and teaching, I would lay on the floor like a bloated wildabeest in between classes because I was so nauseous and uncomfortable and she would come and sit on my floor with me and make me laugh so hard and then let me share whatever I wanted from my unedited heart. I love her and I will always love her. I have eaten more snow cones with her in the summer than any other human. She filled in all my rolls and grades so I could go on vacation. She decorated little brownie bites for my reception. She makes my life good and is one of those soul friends that you can tell anything to.<br />
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So when she came to Denver we were excited to be around her again. We had Panera bread to celebrate and she bought Liv her own sugar cookie.<br />
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Everyone needs Kay Thurman in their life. I'm so grateful I have her as my friend forever.<br />
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<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-9885009243210188442013-09-15T16:57:00.000-04:002013-09-15T17:02:54.789-04:00Michigan recap...<div style="text-align: center;">
I am having blog bog which means that I have not blogged in so long that to try and recap would be annoying for anyone bored enough to be reading this and frustrating for me to try to write it all down. I'm not joking when I say that I flipped the calendar from July to September and missed August all together. We spent the first week at the Michigan family reunion and it was delightful. I honestly feel like I scored when it comes to the in law aspect of my life. My siblings on my grafted Seibold family tree are some of the greatest people I know.</div>
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The worst part of the trip was the arriving. Children are not meant to travel and I was highly tempted to use the "religious reflections room" at the Detroit airport. I mean, I know travel can get stressful but who knew they had this special room? If I hadn't been so excited to get out of the airport, I would have gone just to see. I wonder if you have to use your flight ticket as a recommend...</div>
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Liv's dilated eyes were constant as she loved being around uncles. With 6 uncles all around, there was no lack of attention.</div>
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Grace tried out nursing on Grandpa's arm but it wasn't as fulfilling as she hoped. Grandpa is actually really good at playing and Liv loved him.</div>
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Every night one sibling was in charge of the activity and dinner so we had quite the variety to participate. Monday night we went to Whirly ball which is like basketball/lacrosse/bumper cars all mixed into one.</div>
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Of course we had a family golf outing with mandatory participation. I am proud to say that Brock and I were a team and took first in the family. </div>
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The family kick ball game was put on hold for a snake charmer show while Tanner dazzled the cousins with the serpent. </div>
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While the boys golfed 27 holes (yes 27) the girls went to the Detroit zoo. I felt like we were a parade stroller and I'm pretty sure we added at least 2 years on to Bethany's desire for children but it was a good time with all the sweating animals.</div>
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We had euchre tournaments, four square championships, citadels, and a speed bracket with desserts every night. For every activity you won, you got a point which was then totaled at the end of the week for free dinner at Bonefish grill. I did not do well in any of the games but I did enjoy the homeade oreo blizzards, cinnamon life cereal, cheesecake and other nightly treats.</div>
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One night the game was ultimate spoons with all the spoons hidden in the bottom of the pool The other fame was called 7 steps which is not as popular as hide and seek but definitely more fun.</div>
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For girls day Kerry wanted us to go shooting so we felt like Annie Oakly and went to the range. Following that we went to the mall, ate at a Mexican restaurant, ate chocolate covered bacon and a rocky mountain chocolate apple and talked. </div>
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One day we went to the beach and Liv had her first tubing experience. She was a fan. We had our annual sister tube run and enjoyed the sun.</div>
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We had a smores in the back yard with Kody leading a family "one bottle a pop" song.</div>
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We had plenty of pool time in the back yard. </div>
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And a late night slurpee run with 7-11 doughnuts...</div>
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Cousin time.</div>
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Dinner time.</div>
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A nerdy game we love.</div>
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Grace loves Gramps.</div>
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Savannah's eyes shows her feelings about the cousin bath house...</div>
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Hanging out with Aunt Ker, the motherhood master.<br />
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I'm so grateful that I get to be with these people. There's still 3 spots available to become a Seibold so if you're female, can tolerate golf, and love some good humans in your life forever, I highly recommend it...</div>
<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-74615054298008608592013-08-02T03:19:00.001-04:002013-08-02T03:19:50.573-04:00Art Time...<div style="text-align: center;">
I love having all kinds of friends because every single friend brings a new dimension and color to your life that you never even knew existed. We had a new family move in and I was so excited because of the fact that she had a 3 year old girl which is perfect for Liv (really the only common denominator you need to be friends when you are little is be close to the same age and have your moms like to hang out). Jen is very real and very refreshing. She had the idea that we should take our kids to the contemporary art museum. I didn't even know what that title meant but I was excited to do something besides push Liv on germy swings at the sweaty park so we loaded up in the van and off we went.</div>
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The fact that Liv is picking her nose outside this culturally enlightened edifice is a small indication of how far we have to go to teach the finer things in life...</div>
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There was a very cool secret door that was the entrance to the museum.</div>
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In case you don't live in Denver, don't like or even know what contemporary art is, I will take this opportunity to enlighten you.</div>
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And perhaps you could then enlighten me because I was feeling as cultured as reinforced concrete when I looked at this particular piece of work. </div>
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Liv and Lucy soaked it all in even though Liv kept asking to see the lions. </div>
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I had no idea that petrified silly putty could be so interesting. This was Liv's favorite.</div>
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Grace appreciated the exhibit when she was released from her stroller.</div>
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Even though I am not an experienced appreciator of art, I am an appreciator of Jen and exposing me to new things...</div>
<br />Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-814371161135780214.post-11752336402618013402013-08-02T00:15:00.003-04:002013-08-02T00:38:15.021-04:00Ode to arranged friendships...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I was in 2nd grade a girl named Bettina (yes, Bettina) who everyone wanted to be friends with because she had these cool shoes that you could color and had glow in the dark laces came up to me by the monkey bars and said, as she held a piece of loose leaf paper, "You are my 18th best friend." Well, I remember just feeling flattered that I was in the top 20. Let's face it, making friends can be stressful. There's so many variables. It can be emotionally exhausting. Hence, the beauty of childhood forced friendships. I find someone that I love to hang out with who also has a child in the same age bracket and boom baby. Friends. No stress. No facebook likes. No need for her to call and invite. Just forced fun every time. When you're little you don't choose any friends because unless you really click with someone at nursery, you don't have a huge social pool to choose from. Even though Ashton most definitely did not choose Liv, destiny has chosen her for him.</div>
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I don't know if Ashton would choose this arranged friendship but he is learning to be very tolerant, especially when she wrecks his forts and makes him so mad that he karate chops the air. </div>
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Liv screams like she is being stabbed when she has to leave him. I think Ashton's face depicts his feelings regarding the matter. He's not thrilled, but very tolerant, mostly because he has no choice.</div>
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While Kim and I turned the kitchen into bath and body works and make some homeade sugar scrub, Ash and Liv entertained themselves outside.</div>
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They were fairly bored until Kim busted out the store bought sugar cookies with pink frosting...</div>
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And then both of them couldn't keep their eyes from rolling back in their heads because they were too delectable. Seriously, look at both their eyeballs and then you will want to go to the grocery store right now.</div>
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Liv really started working up a sweat trying to impress Ashton with her best chalk skills.</div>
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And when the sidewalk became too boring, she found a new canvass for her talent....</div>
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Even though 99.3% of what we do is girly, Ash is always willing to participate.</div>
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Especially if it involves a good treat.</div>
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Or a pool...</div>
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Making friends can be a complicated and emotionally draining process. I'm so glad that I have spared Liv that experience thus far. Whether they like it or not, I think this forced arranged friendship is the way to go. Ashton will thank me later...after they are married. </div>
Chelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05666836821590092643noreply@blogger.com1