Tuesday, February 27, 2018


Today Rachel finished building the Lego set we gave to her for her eighth birthday, I believe, which Grandma had purchased to harvest mini-figures from when she made Rachel's Hogwarts birthday cake for her fifth birthday. That thing had been kicking around (half-opened) for a long time and though we'd encouraged her to put it together multiple times, she'd never gotten around to it.

Because reading is the only activity that exists in Rachel's world, probably.

On Saturday Andrew threatened to incorporate all the pieces into the big bin of Lego but I insisted that she build it first. So yesterday she started putting it together.

We had to find the instructions online because those had been lost and we had to dig through the big bin of Lego to find a few odd pieces that had somehow been misplaced, but she made some good headway before bed last night and after school today she put the finishing touches on Hagrid's Hut.

She was so proud, and, honestly, so was I!

I don't believe I've ever put a Lego set together, either (I was the main helper in this endeavour) and it was a pretty cool process. I've never been much of a "master builder," if you will. Everything I make is incredibly boring. But Andrew insists, and I've come to agree, that building from a set of instructions can help foster your creativity (especially for those of us who are creatively challenged when it comes to engineering).


Our little ukulele group met after school today, which was fun. I had everyone write in the chord changes for Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam (using F and C7) so that we could practice "hearing" where the changes would be. It was a good exercise, I think. We sang all four verses of the song. Our LDS Children's Songbook only includes the first two verses and of those two verses we usually only ever sing the first verse, which is a shame. At our house we try to always sing the second verse (though we mumble through half the words still) because one of our upcoming sunbeams needs the reminder to be "loving and kind to all [she sees]," in addition to being "pleasant and happy" (she's a little screamer). Also, it gives both her and Benjamin twice as long to acceptably bounce around during FHE (which was certainly needed tonight).


My milk "customers" came to empty our freezer today, which was certainly good because the freezer was full to capacity. I sent about half with Alayna, whose baby has started solids and is drinking a little less milk than she used to (so Alayna still had about 100 ounces left in her freezer from previous batches), and the rest we gave to a sweet little baby whose momma passed away at birth. 

As of this evening our freezer only has 12 ounces of milk in it. I'm sure it's feeling lonely, as milk is wont to do.* I'm sure it won't have to be lonely for long. So far (over the course of 4.5 months) I've pumped 3146 ounces of milk. That's about 24.5 gallons. It's also about 205 lbs.' worth. That's quite a bit of milk. 


Zoë and Benjamin were a little wild today. Sending them out to play in the snow was the best decision I made all afternoon (even if it didn't last very long). The kids set their boots and mittens out to dry in front of the fireplace and, while I was helping Daddy make dinner, Zoë stood by the fire to warm herself. It gets nice and toasty over there and Zoë was loving it.

"Feel my back, Mom," she said, lifting up her shirt for me.

"Not right now. I'm cutting tomatoes," I told her.

"Mom, feel my back! Feel my back! It's so hot!" she insisted.

"Not right this second, sweetie," I said.

"Feel my back, Mom!" she badgered. "Feel it! It's so warm!"

"Just a minute," I said.

"Mom, Mom, Mom! Feel my back! Mom! Feel my..."

"Fine. Alright. I'll feel your back," I said, reaching down to touch her bare back. 

She recoiled at my touch, however, and shrieked, "DON'T TOUCH MY BACK WITH YOUR COLD HANDS!!!"

I guess my hands were a little colder than she was expecting. Fortunately she was able to quickly re-warm herself at the fire.


Tomorrow a few of the kids' friends are coming over after school. Specifically, Miriam's friend Hannah is coming over with her immediately older/younger sisters while their parents are up in Salt Lake. Miriam was feeling rather responsible for preparing the house for their visit. 

"Is it alright," she asked, "If I tidy up a bit after I take the trash out?"

Taking the trash out is Monday's after-school chore (but don't get the impression that my kids are eager to get their chores done regularly because they're usually not).

"Yes," I said. "I'm so glad you asked permission for that... You know you always have permission to tidy things up, right? Like, you don't have to ask..."

No wonder our house is always a mess. The kids thought they had to ask permission to clean anything up (if only they thought they had to ask permission to mess things up in the first place).

* Andrew's dad will say things are "lonely" when they aren't put away properly. So if the milk is left on the counter, for instance, he'll say, "Hmmm...the milk looks lonely." Not that milk ever gets left out around here.


  1. Ugh we've been trying to get Ezra to finish the millennial falcon since last christmas. He's put two sets together since then. I finally told him no more sets until he finishes. I wish they would rerelease the harry potter sets. We have the rons house but I'd love the bus and Hogwarts.

  2. That poor momma of that little baby!! That made me sad to read about that. I am glad you can give service to that baby. Did you ever think, when you were young, that donating milk would be a way that you would give service?

  3. Ugh..that poor family losing their loved one. That is so sad.

    My nephew Michael was the greatest about finishing complicated Lego sets. He loved those things. I'm with Rachel, though...much prefer reading to following instructions. :)

  4. Fortunately, your children haven't decided to be cheeky when told the milk is lonely, by going to the fridge or cupboard to pull something out to leave with the milk so it isn't alone anymore.