Zoë, the girl on fire! (and Alexander, the comic relief)

Well, Phoebe woke up around 3:00 in the morning today. 

When it became clear she wasn't going to go back to sleep I let her get up...but made her unload the dishwasher. And then we folded a load of napkins together (she was actually getting quite good at it by the end). And then we did a reading lesson. 

At some point she asked if she could go back to bed, but was unsuccessful at falling asleep. 

So we got up again and put in a load of laundry. 

And then the kids got up for swimming practice, so they all had breakfast together. I made Phoebe play on her own while I did some work and when the kids got home, I went down for a long nap. 

Phoebe...did not. 

She played in the basement with Alexander and Zoë. 

I left for the swim meet early with the kids (and still had to park on the street quite a distance from pool) and got them settled in "the bullpen" and checked in for my volunteer shift—I actually switched shifts with someone else. I was scheduled to be stroke and turn judge for the second half rather than the first half, but I just didn't know that I would have the stamina to make it through the second half (given my track record this week—cough, cough, wheeze, wheeze). 

Zoë sang the national anthem (as she has for every meet we've hosted for the past two years—I think she's up to five times now...but she'll probably sing next week as well, bringing her total to six). Considering she's also coming off a cold, I think she did well! That official was so nice (I'm not sure what his name is, but you can see that he tries to step in when Zoë lost her place in the song—and that wasn't the only nice thing he did today, either!)

Up with Phoebe

Last night Andrew put me to bed at 9:00 pm. 

This sickness has wiped me out, but I finally think I've rounded the corner. I slept so well last night and woke up feeling much better. I took the little kids to the pool for a little while in the early afternoon and managed to finally get a draft written for a writing project. 

"Did Phoebe sleep well?" I asked Andrew when he came home from taking the kids to swimming in the morning...because not only did he put me to bed at 9:00 last night, he also got up to take the kids to their early morning practice.

Except for Benjamin, who is away at camp this week...missing out on his birthday...which was today. 

"Not at all!" he said. "You should know! You got up with her around midnight. And then I took over and sent you back to bed and she didn't really go back to sleep until around 4:00 in the morning."

"I got up with her?"

Paying the piper

I remember years and years ago—approximately 30 years ago—the Schwartzbergs (the parents of my friend Jade, who had recently moved to Canada from South Africa) spoke in sacrament meeting. One of them—I believe it was Jade's dad—spoke about the importance of keeping promises to our children, even the silly little promises like stopping at McDonald's for a Happy Meal. He spoke about being called on the carpet for that one, with the kids reminding him that he had promised that if they _________ then he [would take them to McDonald's].

This was an amazing story to me because McDonald's was a luxury was rarely promised in my house growing up. We experienced it as a spontaneous surprise, perhaps (and, actually, Uncle David somehow had an impressive "Happy Meal Toy Collection" growing up), but I feel like it was a rare experience. 

Somewhat reluctantly, I recall, Brother Schwartzberg made a stop at McDonald's to make good on his promise. 

I'm trying to remember the exact gospel connection here. I'm sure it was something about how our Heavenly Father makes good on his promises. Maybe Matthew 7:9–11?

Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?

Whatever the case, I think we should all be impressed that I was paying enough attention during sacrament meeting to recall any details thirty years later. 

What's up, Doc?

One of Phoebe's favourite treats to get at the store are the bags of mini sweet peppers. She loves them, will help herself to them, and chomp on them with breakfast, lunch, and dinner (as well as in between meals). But she went shopping with Daddy on Saturday and came home with a new treat—fancy carrots—and has been eating those like they are the best thing in the world.

Half our house is sick right now, so I (sick) stayed home with the sick kids and Phoebe (who is mostly better since she was sick early in the week) while Andrew (not sick because he was also sick early in the week) took the healthy kids to stake conference (and simply didn't want to battle Phoebe).

We (the sick ones) watched a few Friend to Friend broadcasts instead. And Phoebe ate like half a bag of carrots or something, getting increasingly creative with how she was eating them as time wore on.