A Letter To Santa...

I found this the other day. Hilarious. And no, I'm not misspelling the words below. I'm actually quite good at spelling. I won the school Spelling Bee. Twice.

Dear Santa,

What I want for Christmas is a (real) cell phone and a (real) horse also I want a new bike. Also I want one of your elves with his/her clothes. Also I want mechanical pencils. Also I want to get a coockie and peep maker. Also I want an elf hat. I even want candy machine. Also I want D.S. games. Next I want a stuffed animal reindeer with a little collar that says storm. Also I want a puppy beagle dog. I and cinduf being nice to my brother.

Your good child,

Keagan

It's funny because, about a week ago, we had our ward Primary Christmas party and when Keagan sat on Santa's lap, she told him she wanted a REAL horse. Now, your typical Santa would probably have said something like, "Ok, sure." But this particular Santa was using his thinker that day. He told her, "Now, do you have a place to put your horse?" Keagan told him she didn't, so he told her she may have to think of something a little more reaslistic to ask for. I had to laugh, because the same Santa came to Keagan's class at school a few days later, and when Keagan sat on his lap and asked him for a horse a second time, he actually remembered her and said, "Now Keagan. We've talked about this."

For The Love...

I'm not ashamed to admit I'm always up for a good photo - op. Tommy, on the other hand, always tries to single-handedly ruin the moment for me. This is his new favorite pose. Booo!

So Sad, But True.

We should be ashamed...

Living Out My Dream....

Of playing doctor, that is. A few months ago, Aubri said I could be in the delivery room while she had her baby. I was ecstatic. Now, most people (including my own mother) don't care to be in the delivery room. And most husbands (including my own) prefer to be at north end of the delivery, if you know what I mean. Me? I love everything blood and guts. However, I have an extremely low tolerance for vomit, so my dream of being a doctor will never happen. But I figured, for just one night, a girl can pretend, right??

Before Aubri went into labor, she informed everyone that this was HER day (she can be so selfish sometimes) and that it needed to be all about her. I made sure everything was in order - her Route 44 cup of ice, check. Her large Diet Coke, check. Kiel's lotion to give her a foot massage, check. Plenty of magazines, check.

Now, back to me. You can read all about baby Portia Leigh here (yes, you heard right. Leigh. Aubri mentioned something about naming her Leigh, after her grandma, blah blah blah. But we all know the Leigh means me) but Aubri's special day is over, so let's get back to me playing doctor.

You see, I like to compare the watching of someone deliver a baby to picking a whitehead. There are only about 3 people in my life that I could pick their face and not get grossed out. The same goes for baby-delivering. If only all patients could be as sweet, as cute, as skinny, without a single stretch mark (I hate her for that) like Aubs. The nurse told us the majority of her patients do NOT look like that.

The goods.

Just pretending to check her cervix. I swear I could do it if I really had to. The same goes for catheters as well.

Her heart and lungs sounded good. By the way, I am more than aware that my forhead looks somewhat like a log cabin these days, but Tommy says it's either Botox or the new house. I chose the new house (more on that later:)

We got a little bored, so we whipped up a game of "Celebrity."

Aubri did great! Craig manned the north end, while I was in charge of the south. I was so proud of my little patient.

**I've decided, when Aubri pops out baby #4, I'm going to borrow one of the Mabry girls' cheerleading outfits next time.**

Most Thankful...

There are many things to be grateful for this year. My good hair, Sonic ice/foam cups/Diet Coke, my shoe collection etc. Sounds lame, but true.

But this year, I am especially grateful for the gift of eternal families, the gospel, a loving, hard-working, loyal husband, our home, and that I have happy, healthy kids.

This year, we decided to go to California and be with my parents for Thanksgiving. My sister Kim and her family came down from Idaho. It was really wonderful. It was very quiet, but very enjoyable and, most importantly, there was a never-ending abundance of good food.

I am most grateful for this,

this,

and this. Swazye had had a little accident in the car, so we borrowed Grandma's "My nuts are bigger than yours" shirt, given to her by Kim's husband, Eric. Tommy would never do such a thing.

Whenever we get together, my mom loves to have a treasure hunt. Here are the kids waiting while Kim and I hid the eggs.

Auntie Leigh was a little excited to find out there was going to be an "adult hunt" with $500 at stake. After a 30 minute head start for the girls, a few shoves to get Kim out of the way, I walked away with a grand total of $165, not including the egg Eric stole from me. It doesn't pay to cheat Eric. Ha! Ha!

The kids checking out their loot.

Princess Tea Party.

A few weeks ago, the young women in our ward hosted a tea party for several little girls. Each girl was in charge of inviting one little girl, hence, Olivia invited Swayze. Swayze was so excited to get her party on. I think the thing that excited her the most was that she was the only one that was invited out of her siblings. She kept saying, "Just me is going. Not Tag and not Keagan!" I love how loving my kids are to one another :) I don't have many deets on what went down at the party, but she had a blast. Thanks Ladies!

The Lovely Days Of Carpool...

But Holy Moly, the conversations between several 11 year old boys makes it all worth it. Take for insance, yesterday as I'm driving the boys to basketball practice:

Tag: "Hey Hunter, remember when you told my mom she doesn't stand a chance with Raja Bell?"

Me: "I still haven't gotten over that one, Hunter."

Tag: "But Mom, you're married to Dad!"

Hunter: "Yeah, that's just temporary."

Or, try listening to nine 11 year olds sing word- for- word, every Taylor Swift song.

I never knew a kumquat is a traditional piece of wood you bang your head on (huh)?

I had to whip out my inner Dr. Phil and have had to put out a few fires - the latest one, over how one boy was upset at the other because his friend ripped on his "laced" Vans and said he likes the "unlaced" Vans more. Go figure. I'd have thought I had a bunch of 13 year old girls in my car.

I also get to hear about "secret" crushes, mean school teachers, I get the privilege of smelling the most foul odors, I get to listen to burping contests, etc. Trust me, the list goes on and on.

Oh, and one more thing - While driving these boys around each week, I've figured out the appropriate age to make deoderant-wearing a daily requirement. You guessed it.. 11.

I Believe Hell Has Officially Frozen Over...

Well, our boy finally did it! And he couldn't have chosen a better bride. I really do think I was more excited about Paul's wedding than Paul himself was. I felt like a proud parent (I mean, after all, Paul was the one who gave our first born his first spanking). Everything about that day was perfect. It was, hands down, one of the greatest ceremonies I've ever been to. I forgot my kleenexes, I was tempted to use my footie socks. We're so happy for these two lovelies and were so happy to be a part of their day.

Dr. Olson and his lovely wife let us crash at their pad for the weekend. Thanks guys!

82 Days Sober... And Counting.

This was Swayze on her first day of school. Happy as can be. Notice all of her bottles in the Ziploc bag. There had been a lot of hype in the Stapes' household prior to this wonderful, glorious day. Because you see, on this oh, so special day, August 27th, I told Swayze she was going to a big girl going to preschool, therefore, big girls don't drink "ba ba's" anymore. I told her if she gave all her bottles to Miss Nancy, I would take her to Target and buy her ANYTHING her little heart desired. She was game. Until later that night. And the next night. And even the next night... and so on. Talk about bottle detox. Wowzers. I don't think the family slept for a week straight.

But 'lo and behold, we made it. Alive. And Swayze got her cherished prize from Target. A tinkerbell makeup set. This was our conversation on the way home:

Me: "Swayze, do you remember WHY Mommy bought you a toy today?"

Swayze: "Because I'm pwetty?"

Me: "Noooo... Can you remember?"

Swayze: "Because I'm cute?"

Me: "Keep guessing."

Swazye: "Because I wanted it?"

I could tell this conversation was getting me nowhere. Obviously, my 3rd child has my mentality. I use the 'pretty card on Tommy all the time. Works like a dream.

Halloweiner.

I figured I'd better post our Halloween pictures before Thanksgiving rolls around. I have to admit, mine and Tommy's costumes pretty much killed it this year (thanks Laura). Although being mistaken for Little Richard, he was actually Prince and I was supposed to be Tina Turner, but because I didn't decide to try on my costume until Halloween morning, realizing my Fatty McFatty body couldn't fit into Laura's size 0 dress, at the last minute, I had my "personal assistant", Snacky run to American Apparel and get me some liquid leggings. Tommy's quite fond of them (on himself, that is).

Tommy asked if I bought Keagan's skanky Alice in Wonderland costume at Fascinations. Nice. Tag wasn't quite cooperating and wouldn't wear what I got him, so we pulled out the old gorilla costume. Luckily, it wasn't too hot this year. And Swayze was a "Suddin' bayelle" (southern belle).