An evening with Auntie Abra (August 23)

Our plane landed in Calgary around 4:00 in the afternoon. My mom had arrived at the airport at around 3:00 to pick us up, and then we were just about the last people off the plane, and then we had to stop to use the potties, so by the time we made it out to my mom she felt like she had been waiting forever!

But the nice thing was that she was waiting beside another lady, whose family members were on the same flight as us. They had been talking, and when the other party finally arrived, they said their goodbyes and my mom said something about how she hoped her daughter and children would be coming soon. 

"Oh, was it a mom traveling with three girls—a big one, a medium-sized one, and a little one?"

"Yes!" my mom said. 

"I was sitting behind them!" the woman said. "They were all so well-behaved!"

That was a nice thing to hear! 

We first went to get settled into our hotel, and then headed into downtown Calgary to meet up with Auntie Abra & Brady and Piper & Anton. Piper had offered to host a little dinner at her apartment's recreation room. She even let us swim in the pool, which was nice (though her pool was freezing cold, Piper had brought a bunch of pool noodles and squirt guns and balls and things which we appreciated getting to use)!

After we were finished swimming, we went to the rec room where Abra brought her kitten Padme. We had fun watching her hop all around the room:

Another day with Uncle David (August 29)

David was able to drive down to Okotoks with Millie to meet up with us on our last day in Alberta. We just met at Big Rock Elementary School (because in Alberta it's normal to use the school playground equipment outside of school hours (unlike out here where they lock up the school playgrounds and put threatening signs up on the fences about trespassing)). School hadn't yet started for the kids when we were up there, so the school grounds were empty and available.

It was fun for the little girls to play together again. It sure was hard to catch a picture of them together, though! They're both such busy little climbers that it was hard to catch both their faces in the same frame—up, down, around and around! I'll post this picture of Millie and Phoebe together since there aren't any identifying characteristics in this picture, but this is how most pictures turned out, with one girl facing the camera and the other not:

A day with Uncle David (August 24)

Our first item of business on Thursday morning was a quick stop in Wal-Mart to buy the girls some new sweaters. My mom didn't feel the girls had enough warm clothing for this trip (that would be me...packing like a southerner) and Phoebe had thrown up all over the only sweater I'd packed for her. I washed it out in the hotel sink, but...it was still so, so wet in the morning that it was completely useless for her.

So the girls all ended up with cute new Canada sweaters (Zoë lost her new sweater on the plane/airport and...we just won't talk about it because she's rather upset about it). We went to my brother David's house to play with Mille for a while (no pictures here because her parents don't put her up on social media, but a big reminder to myself to find the pictures on my computer before printing this out, if I ever get around to that some day). It was wonderful to see her—she's growing up to be a beautiful, good-natured child, so good at sharing and just fun to be around!

Then Uncle David took us to Costco for some poutine, which was so good that Zoë even ate it with the gravy (she usually doesn't when we make poutine at home...and honestly I'm not a huge fan of the gravy we usually make when we make poutine (it needs to be browner), but she ate this and was surprised by how much she liked it):

Holding down the fort

Andrew, Andrew, Andrew...you had one job to do while I was away. 

One. Job.

I asked him to hold down the fort. That's it! 

And just look at this mess!

Quad erratic

I have visited my aunt and uncle's farm several times over the course of my life and, being raised in a manner that many would consider to be "rural" (though I know my cousins would consider being quite metropolitan), I feel like I understand that farming is quite a lot of work! My mom would sometimes send me to the farm for weeks at a time in the summer, where I'd do rock picking and weeding and plowing and other simple (but backbreaking) chores. So I know it's not all fun and games.

However, it's also true that when city slicker cousins were visiting (for the record, our town had a population of about 7000 people at the time, but my cousins would tease me about being a city slicker) my cousins got to play more. Uncle LeRon (and the older kids, to be honest) would be busy, busy, busy all summer long, but Eric and Michelle and I had a lot of fun exploring the farm together. 

We'd go for rides on the quad (which otherwise was strictly for farm chores, not joyriding), float down the canal, jump on the trampoline, eat popsicles until we were sticky little messes, play with kittens, and just enjoy being on the farm...when we weren't out in the field making piles of rocks. 

When we were visiting the farm this time, however, it was Eric who was busy in the fields, while Uncle LeRon could take some time off to play (since he's technically retired; Michael, Craig, and Eric run the farm together now). This was quite a fun turnabouts!

On Monday morning, Uncle LeRon pulled the quads out of the quonset and taught Miriam and Zoë how to ride them. Here's Miriam on the littlest quad—this one is rather old (the same one that I used to ride when I was her age!):

Last things first...

I have many stories to share about our week in Canada, but first I have to share what happened today with Miss Phoebe because we can't stop laughing about it.

She had an excellent week potty-training-wise in Canada. She was communicating her potty needs, waiting when she was asked to wait, going when it was time to go! It was great! 

She did less well on our way home. She would not communicate her needs, didn't go when she should, and filled multiple pull-ups. It was rather frustrating, but she was exhausted from a week of bouncing around from place to place and having to be "good" all the time. I know she's just a baby, so it...just was what it was. 

These problems continued today, however. She went through just about every pair of underwear she owns!

I began to suspect that she needed to do some poopies (because constipation can increase incidences of wetting accidents) but was becoming increasingly frustrated about the way she was having accident after accident after accident.

Our entire house is in shambles right now—a huge storm system came through on the 29th and our entire basement flooded with a half inch of water. Andrew didn't end up going to bed until around 5:00 in the morning because he was working all night to get things taken care of (Grandpa, Rachel, and Benjamin were huge helps as well, but we ended up calling in a restoration crew (which cost a pretty penny...but perhaps a slightly less pretty penny than the one we'll spend fixing everything that needs to be fixed)). 

That was kind of a bummer (and then I learned that my flight was delayed by five hours, which meant that we'd completely miss our connecting flight home, so while Andrew was calling all sorts of restoration work people, I was on hold with the airline trying to change our tickets so we could still get home). 

And then we had the full day of traveling. And then we arrived to a house that is, as I mentioned, in shambles (all the couches in the music room are piled high with books, etc. etc.). 

This is all to say that...things are a little chaotic around here...and we're all feeling a little frustrated (and honestly we have a number of things to do that we don't typically have to do...like bother about restoring a basement).

Finally, I had the last straw with Phoebe and her asking to go potty but already being wet.

"For goodness' sake, Phoebe!" I said. "I don't understand! You are home. You know where your potty is. You know how to pull down your pants. If you need to go potty, can't you just take yourself potty?"

"Yeah," she said (which is her answer to nearly everything). 

That’s the story of, that’s the glory of love…

One of my favourite scriptures is Alma 36:20, where Alma remarks how his “soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was his pain!” This is not the point of the scripture, necessarily, but I love the acknowledgement of two very different (and rather extreme) emotions. I’m not sure that Alma experienced his emotions simultaneously, but it’s possible to hold multiple emotions at once (which was the entire point of the movie Inside Out, so if you need to research this further, that’s a good place to start (and by “research” I mean “watch a Disney movie,” which in this case is, perhaps, synonymous)). 

It’s no secret that we’ve spent a lot of time visiting family this summer. Those visits have been wonderful and joyful…and have also included a fair bit of turmoil. 

So that’s been…nice.

And so today I’ll tell you about Amy, who was once a rather unsettling void in our family, but who now is a vibrant and much-needed puzzle piece. Here’s a picture of me awkwardly pretending I belong in the “cousins picture” the cousins wanted to grab at Deklan’s wedding because, well, first of all we took a picture of Amy, Piper, and Deklan. And Amy said, “I’m so glad we got a picture of all the cousins together before I left!”

And I was like, “Me, too! Oh, wait! My kids are your cousins, too!”

And Amy, who has a 12-year-old, a 4-year-old, and a 3-year-old, gasped and said, “Oh, my goodness! You’re right! I was thinking about your kids like nieces and nephews because they’re my kids’ ages! But we’re cousins!”

And Deklan, whose new little daughter is 8 (just a month or so younger than Zoë), was like, “Huh. I keep forgetting that, too.”

It’s…like…weird…but just the way that things are.

ATL to YUL to YYC

I set my alarm for 4:30 am on Wednesday morning, but Zoë woke up at 4:00 buzzing with energy and Phoebe decided to wake up, too, so there was nothing for it except to just get up, too. We made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare—they say to arrive three hours early, but we got through security in about a half hour. A lot of this is due to our trump card (which is having a baby in a stroller) so I wouldn’t necessarily recommend blowing off the recommended arrival times without that. But travelers with babies in tow often do get escorted to a special, shorter security line.

Arriving so early had its perks—I didn’t have to worry about whether we were going to be late, for example—but, man, I was tired! 

Third thing about Atlanta traffic is that you can leave at 5:00 and arrive three hours early or you can leave at like, 5:30 and arrive late. Once that traffic jam starts thickening, there’s no stopping it! So, it was good that we were early. Would I have loved an hour to two more of sleep? Sure. But at least we were on time for our first flight.

Miriam was so helpful with Phoebe. She walked her all around to look at planes and the sunset and a mural of puppies. Zoë and I walked her around a little bit as well. It was nice to have a responsible person to switch off with walking around and watching all the luggage (Miriam was so nervous that she managed to get 100 “zone minutes” by the time the plane took off!).

Let's go to Canada! Let's go today!

In just a few short hours I'll be leaving for Canada with Miriam, Zoë, and Phoebe in tow. At dinner Andrew joked that we'll be experiencing a "Thanos Snap Effect," with half the family "disappearing" (anyone born in Utah will get left behind).

I'm trying to envision the trip going smoothly—not a single hiccup to encounter—but all kinds of worries and tangles keep popping into my brain. 

I'll feel much better about things once we're through customs at Quebec, sitting at our terminal, on time for our connecting flight to Calgary. 

I'll feel ever so much better after we've landed. 

I'm looking forward to seeing friends and family but am so, so nervous about such a long flight with Phoebe. 

So I'll just continue with my cleansing breaths until we get there...

An open love letter to our neighbourhood

Andrew came home from organ lessons last Wednesday, pulled into the garage, pulled out the hedge trimmer, and gave the bush beside the garage a little haircut. It had gotten so overgrown that it was tickling the car every time he drove by and he decided, I suppose, that enough was enough. 

There are more bushes in our yard that could do with a trim. But those will have to wait until after next week because I don't think any yard work will be happening while I'm away...not because I'm the only one who ever does yard work but because the forecast for the next week is scorching. 

Anyway, Zoë chose some of the clippings and fashioned them into a crown for herself and then—because she's a nice big sister and Alexander wanted one as well—she whipped one up for her little brother, too. They were proudly walking around the cul-de-sac in their laurel-like crowns, when one of the many Miss Michelles on our street called them over to her garden, cut some black-eyed Susans, and tucked them into their crowns for them.