Anatomy of a Perfect 1st Birthday Party

For a *perfect* first birthday party:

First you take the sister's twins.
Add twelve months.
Add one adorable, pinwheel-themed birthday party.
Add chocolate cake.

Mix babies with cake until well combined.

Results may vary.

 Rhys: Hey, hey what's going on. What are those big things up there? I like 'em.

Avery: What's going on? Where are my clothes?

Avery: Okay, I kinda like this naked stuff. Ya KNOW?

Rhys: Heh.

 Both: Twin High Five! Cuz we're awesome!

 Rhys: This is delicious. If you don't want yours...

Avery: Someone feed me. I don't know what to do with this.

 Rhys: Sugar rush! Is the macarena back in? Cuz I'm totally doing the macarena!

Avery: Umm, this is yummy. I think I'll face-plant in it.

 Rhys: OHMYGOSHTHISISAMAZING. IMEANREALLY,WHYYYYYHAVENTWEHADTHISFORDINNERBEFORE,GUYS???

Avery: I've had... an apostrophe!

 Rhys: OHHHHHHHITSSOOOOOOGOOD.

 Avery: *Plop*

 Quinn: I want some, too! Hey this is fun!

 Cupcakes all around!

 One proud twins'mama, and my gorgeous sister, kellywestover

Success!

NephewQ's Three-Year Photos

NephewQ turned three a while back and to celebrate, I was able to take his three-year photos. They really show off his cute little personality, don't you think?

 Q how old are you? "Two, furee, four, five..." 

Close enough!

 Little lady Avery

 Look at that little chubster! Little Rhys.

 You two are suspect... highly suspect!

 Love that little Stinkerbug!!

When you leave everything falls apart...

It is no small thing, for a mother to entrust someone else with her child/children. So when the sister took off with our mum to go and meet with the doctor about my father on Friday, leaving my bed-ridden, unable-to-move father and her three year old and 8-month twins with my brother and I, it was a great show of trust. And it was a big accomplishment, for both of us, I think.

It started off great. Smiling children. Playing MarioKart with Uncle Mike. And then everything went pear-shaped.

The toddler wouldn't go down for his nap. The babies started to cry. Then my Dad needed to use the restroom. No big deal, normally. But Dad had experienced another stroke on Wednesday morning, and had since deteriorated to not being able to walk. My brother and I had to carry him to the restroom and then carry him back to his chair. If my dad were a 5'7", 150lb man it wouldn't be a big deal, after all, my brother and I are strapping, strong people. But dad is 6'4", 250+ and practically carrying him to the restroom is backbreaking, time-consuming, sweaty, painful work.

All the while, the babies were bawling and I was panicking, and wondering how on earth, how.in.the.world. was my mother going to manage this with only my brother to help her after my sister and I left? Really? How?

Later, when the drama died down, I issued an edict to the sister: "You're not leaving again. When you leave, everything falls apart." (That was proven not once this past week.)

On Tuesday, I went for a walk with my father. We walked slowly, hand in hand, in his neighborhood and chatted. From Wednesday to Friday, Dad lost the ability to walk on his own, to think clearly, to talk, to sit up in bed.

By Sunday he was paralyzed on his left side. Finally, my mother and brother got him to the hospital (he point-blank refused to go until then) after brother injured his back in trying to pick Dad up off the floor again. After a CT scan, it was discovered that Dad had at some point hit his head and was hemorrhaging in his brain. Emergency surgery went well. And that's all we know at this point.

Being adults means that we all survived childhood. Our parents trusted us at times to the care of others, but mostly as children our care fell to them. Our upbringing, every decision about what to feed us, how to clothe us and how to educate us fell to them. It took long suffering, tenacity, long, long, long, grueling hours and short nights. It took trust. So much. Now my sister and I are "grown up" and trust is again required in our parent-child relationship. But this time it is not for our care, but for the care of my father.

Life is a writhing, lively, circuitous thing, isn't it?

The sister wrote a beautiful blog post about the trip, click here.

Faith, Promptings and My Father

Infrequent - that's what I'd label faith-based posts on this blog. Perhaps that's good, maybe I should post about my beliefs more often. I'm not going to commit to anything. But today, my heart is full and very grateful.

In LDS faith education, Jack R. Christensen is a trusted name, a reputable source for teaching, learning and sermonizing. While at school in Utah, I attended a few of his courses and was always edified and uplifted by them. They were a comfort. He released several audio talks, sermons, if you will and my favorite is one called "The Mortal Christ". It is simply beautiful, all about the mortal life of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Brother Christensen relates one particular story that came to mind during today's heart-heavy events. He relates a time in his own life when driving through the plains of Wyoming or Montana, several hundred miles from home.

It was dinner time and he was happy to find a Subway sandwich shop in a town on his route. As he pulled into the sandwich shop, an idea came to mind that Whopper meals at Burger King, just across the street, were only $1.99. Being self-admittedly, essentially cheap, he drove across the highway to Burger King for a whopper meal. When he walked into Burger King he found a friend from his home area inside, who was astonished to see him. The friend had been going through a very low point and Brother Christensen was able to help him because he paid attention to a seemingly unimportant idea, put into his mind by the Holy Spirit.

That message stayed with me over the years. That sometimes the Spirit doesn't shout at us, or tell us specifically what to do. (Believing that we are beings sent to Earth to gain wisdom and make choices pleasing to our Father in Heaven, it doesn't make sense that we would always be told what we should do.) Today I had a similar experience. I wasn't driving through Wyoming, and I didn't get a whopper meal. This morning I had planned to stay in my hotel room and work remotely while my sister took her kids to a play date with her friends. Afterward we were all going to go to my Parent's home and spend time with them. For some reason, as she was ready to leave, two ideas wouldn't leave me. The first, that it would be an inconvenience to the housekeeper if I stayed in the room, struck me as odd, and I didn't dispute that, but  I thought I would just ask her for fresh towels and to empty the trash. No biggie.

The second idea to surface, that the internet connection at my parents house would be better than that available at the hotel, mulled around in my head. Between the maid and the internet, I revised my plans on a whim and out the door went the sister, her kids and I.

I hadn't been in the house five minutes before I heard a yell for help. My father had suffered a stroke (another stroke, on top of other ailments) and had been laying on his bathroom floor for an unknown time. My mother was in the bathroom trying to help him move his 6'4", 250+ pounds of unresponsive body off the ground. Somehow, between my mother and me, we managed to move my Dad to his bed and then go about the business of helping him.

Tonight I'm so grateful. Grateful for lessons that stay with us. Grateful for promptings and whisperings and the popping of seemingly random ideas into our minds. I'm so grateful to have been able and around to help, but especially grateful to have more time with my father, perhaps, in small part, because the maid would have been inconvenienced by my staying in my hotel room, and because the internet at the hotel was slow.

Up North

This week I'm up north with my sister, her three year old and her eight-month old twins. We're visiting our parents and it's madness! Madness, I say! I knew it would be busy when I signed up to accompany the sis and her kids on this trip, but I have a whole new level of appreciation, respect and awe for mothers.

Are you a mother? You're amazing.

This is where I am this week:

Lake Coeur d'Alene, Idaho

Most people think it's gorgeous up here, and sure, I'll concede that it's pretty. I'm definitely a California girl, though. I like sunshine. (And of course, this week it's 70+ and sunny in California.) And the ocean.

So enjoy your week, everyone, and wherever you are, I hope it's sunny!

Post Christmas

Somehow it's Wednesday. And it's the day after Christmas? Was that just the fastest Christmas break in the history of Christmas breaks, ever, or what?

Back to the grind today, but yesterday! Oh, yesterday, you were so fun!

Last Christmas was spent in Southern California in the company of great friends and a gorgeous beach. This year, the draw of my sister's now-6-mo-old twins and my nearly-three year old nephew were too great and I spent the day in their company. And about a million other relatives on my bro-in-law's side. And it was great!

The sister and I got together on Monday morning and made a zillion gooey cinnamon rolls. (Well, we made them to the point of being completely prepped and not baked... we baked them Christmas morning). And because cinnamon rolls from scratch require several hours and several "rest" periods, (while the scalded milk cools and dough rises, etc), the sis and I made a morning of it, complete with a trip to target for baking supplies and a delicious breakfast at a local breakfast joint called Katy's Creek. (Seriously, if ever you are in Walnut Creek, CA, go to Katy's Creek! Yum!)

What else can I say? Christmas this year was magical. The kind of warm, squishy gooey Christmas that seeps into your clothes and hair and melts your soul as you listen to the same Christmas songs on the radio for the millionth time in a month, and you don't mind. It's all much better than the auto-tuned garbage they play on teeny-bopper radio stations anyhow.

I might just keep listening to Christmas music. Or I might go back to Classical. (When did I turn into my father? And I thought I was supposed to turn into my mother?)

In case you haven't seen the fun family photos I took of my sis and her gaggle, here they are:

 This was the picture the Sis used for her family's Christmas card this year. (above) Hilarious!

This Just Happened...

That one time, you know... the time my sister had twins and the boy baby came home after twelve weeks in the NICU and the girl baby stayed in.

And it came to pass that the girl baby was still in the NICU after 13.5 weeks and her mommy did become extremely agitated.

And so the twins' (and Q's) Mommy came up with a plan. She went to the hospital and busted baby girl out.

See:

 The W fam. Back together for the first time in nearly four months.

Master Q wasn't so impressed to see the other half of the "TwoBabiees," as he calls them. He kissed baby "A-Rhys" (That's how Q says Avery) on the head and then prompty ignored her. I was told to put her down a few times so he could throw the ball to me. I guess if you can't get rid of them, ignore them. It works for two-year-olds. If you want to read more about this adorable family, check out my sister's gorgeous blog: kellywestover.com


This happened, too:

Remember that credit card I had the fraudulent charges pop up on? Well, turns out Chase Sapphire cards are METAL. And ya can't cut those suckers up with scissors. A friend of mine came over with some fancy tin snips and went to town. And that's how you destroy a metal credit card. Now that you know, your weekend is complete, I know.