She's got Rhythm

...As in, iambic pentameter sort of rhythm. Well, to be more precise, she alternates two iambic dimeter lines with an anapestic trimeter line until the end when she has a couplet with back to back iambic tetrameter. It's complicated and jazzy. Introducing The Wedding:

Fa-la-la-la-photos

More here.

Baller-Ivy

Ivy handed me the tutu that my mom made for her and demanded I put it upon her right that instant. The following performance ensued:

Four-Eyes

Bryn wears her fashion eye-wear every chance she gets. She calls them her "decoration glasses," and even sneaks them on after hours in bed to read. They aren't prescription lenses, she doesn't need them, but oh how she loves them. Next year's stocking stuffer: fake braces.

The annual ripping of the paper

Love at first sight is real:

Ivy is preparing to apply to America's Test Kitchen:

And of course the kids demonstrated once again the age-old principle of Box-is-funner-than-toy:

Then one foggy Christmas Eve

Laura and Tim had us over for dinner. Tim made Beef Carbonnade(which is french for "so delicious it makes you cry unicorns") among other tasty dishes. He even made a lower-fat version just for me and my newly sans gallbladder state.

After dinner we presented each other with tokens of love and affection, followed by us linking hands and singing joyful carols well into the evening. I made the last part up, but it makes for a nice image.

And just look at these faces. On Christmas, Bryn laughed and said, "I can't believe Santa brought me stuff even though I wasn't good." Whatever that means. Punks.

And then there was no gallbladder

Short story: I had an emergency gallbladder removal last weekend.

Long story: I have struggled with a defective gallbladder for many years. I've tried to avoid attacks by making dietary adjustments (less fat, especially fried foods, trans fat, and hydrogenated fats), but lately, the attacks have been increasing in frequency, duration, and intensity even with the dietary adjustments.

The last straw came this past weekend. I had a 15 hour attack Friday, followed by another unprovoked attack Saturday not even 24 hours later. Saturday night I drove myself to the ER during the attack so they could do an ultrasound and catch the little bugger misbehaving. Sure enough, there were many stones and one was stuck in the little neck leading to the duct. Such a party.

Luckily, there were drugs at the party. Like dilaudid. Apparently I'm a lot of fun on dilaudid, because I started talking to spiders on the wall and waving at the stripes on the curtain, since they were waving at me. The nurses were all laughing at with me. Sadly, I had an allergic reaction to the second half-dose they gave me, so no more dilaudid party for me. Morphine is just not the same.

Eventually the surgeon stabbed my stomach four times, stuck metal tubes in, pumped my abdomen with air, and pulled my gall bladder out in pieces (and of course I was completely knocked out for all of this). I never knew air could hurt so much, because that's been the worst part so far post-op. That, and coughing. I feel so bad for people with c-sections. The best part is that I've lost 15+ pounds. I haven't been at this weight since way before children. I'm sure it will make it's way back to me eventually, but for now I'm enjoying it.

Big thanks Peter and Laura and Tim and to all the people that have surrounded us with love and support and offers of help. One of my nurses in the ER had lived in Layton, UT for a while, and while she wasn't Mormon herself, she said that one of the best things about living there was the instant support network whenever something went wrong. So true.

A Visit with Santa

Bryn asked for a unicorn pillow pet

Calvin asked for a remote control car

Ivy asked (rather impolitely) to just get the heck off his lap
*Thanks EP for the photos

Endearment

Last week, as Peter was tucking the children in to bed, he asked them if they wanted kisses. As usual, Bryn did and Calvin did not. Peter explained that it would be the last time they would get Daddy kisses for a while, since he was leaving, and Calvin allowed a kiss.

A few minutes later Peter noticed him quietly crying about said absence. Calvin decided that Peter needed to draw a picture of the two of them together so he (Calvin) could remember him (Peter). Knowing Peter's artistic "skills," that Peter was short on time due to preparations for the trip, I suggested that perhaps I could take a photo of the two of them. Calvin lit up and said, "Oh yah, that would be even better!"

So we had a photo shoot. I got one shot off before Ivy decided her star had risen and stealthily popped in the next photo with her blue steel on. Luckily, the first one was a keeper, and Calvin asked me to print it out with promises that he would "not scribble all over Daddy's face."


*I just noticed that even in the first picture I took, the top of Ivy's head is skimming the bottom of the photo. What a crafty little stage hog.

Ladies in Red

Ivy in 2010:

Bryn in 2004:

Peter's mom made this dress for Bryn when she was wee, and now we've passed it on to Ivy. I love to compare my kids wearing the same outfit (gets rid of confounding variables and whatnot).
Yes, Bryn is trying to plug in the carnation. Perhaps it will light up.