How to Have a Lion Party

Upon Lucy's request, we had a Lion Party for her 3rd birthday. You can do the same, just do the following:

1. Make a Lion cake (this one looked good, tasted gross.)












2. Make lion hats for the kids (unfortunately 2 "cubs" were sick)












3. Have an adorable 3-year old who is just learning what birthdays are all about.












You know- cake and presents.
(P.S. This photo brings back so many of my Pony memories!)












We love you , Lucy!

My Wardrobe

My sweet mother in law took me for a well needed clothes shopping trip for Christmas. It did however, make me realize the evolution of my wardrobe in the past 5 years.

Remember when I had the professional desk job at UVSC? Yep, that was me- fun, stylish, current. I matched my shoes to my bag, and had several to choose from (both shoes and bags.) I was embellished in scarves, dangling earrings, and bracelets and had no problem with those darling 4 inch strappy heels around the office. My hair was always coiffed into an elegant or sassy 'do, I loved perfume and Clinique products, and was willing to try a new fashion just for the hey of it. Loved it.




Enter my school teaching years. Well, I still tried to stay fashionable, but due to the excessive amounts of bending, kneeling and walking, walking, walking, I had to trade in the high heels for conservative "teacher shoes." Oh, I got the cutest ones I could find, but when you are hauling a ginormous bag of math papers and spelling lists in addition to your computer, purse, lunch, and any other scholastic project at hand, you just have to give a bit. By this time I felt pretty set for the day if I had earrings AND a necklace on. Not to mention that I now had 1 child and my lack of energy was apparent in my limited hairstyles.



Then I became. . .the PE teacher, nay a PREGNANT PE teacher. Don't get me wrong, it was a pretty sweet gig for a pregnant lady, but I couldn't put on my stinky sneakers and ratty ole' workout clothes for the kids. So I was once again lead to purchasing a new wardrobe. This was tricky- I couldn't wear the same thing every day, but getting huge workout clothing is kind of an oxymoron. Thanks to Danskin, I was able to get some decent pieces, within my size range (fortunately I don't get too huge during pregnancy) and was able to be "presentable" day by day. Oh, I did wear my stinky old sneakers by the way and my hair specialty this time--long bangs and a ponytail. (um, sorry, I couldn't find a picture of me teaching soccer in a mu-mu.)




Okay, so now I have arrived at: Stay at Home mom. The phrase along can conjure a wide array of images that we all know too well. For me it turned into the mismatched, leftover, overused, underutilized outfits of yesteryear. I am trying to reinvent my style while still being frugal and functional. By now I have two categories of outfits: 1)Going out of the house and 2) Staying in. I think it's self explanatory. Although I do now have a little more time for hairstyles and jewelry, my focus is on purchasing anything that will survive spit-up on one shoulder and boogies on the other. 2 words: Machine Washable.

So needless to say, thanks for the clothes, Robyn.

Meloncholy After Christmas

So I don't know if it is just me, but something happens about 8:30 PM on Christmas Day.

Let's just say that I LOVE Christmas. I love the music, the foods, the wrapping, the decorating, for all the obvious reasons. If Christmas were an orange, I would squeeze and twist and suck every last drop of Christmasy juice out of the season. Each day gets bigger and better until it's actually here and then. . TA DA! I get to savor in all the goodness that I have been anticipating, hoping and preparing for.

But then, something happens when it's time to go home and go to bed just because it's getting late. There are no more thoughts of what is yet to come. No more mental lists of what still needs to be done. Christmas music seems almost inferior, and snow is now just a burden rather than a backdrop to a glorious Christmas day. I actually get sad and uncomfortable, because I have built up for something so grand, and now it is well. . .gone.

I don't want to seem like a big downer here, but I do think this little process I go through is good for me. It helps me to evaluate what I truly loved about my Christmas for the year:

*It was not the amount of money, but the amount of time I spent on a gift
*I found that I didn't even notice if I had any gifts; I just loved giving them to my family and watching my children open
*I loved having a chance to remember my Savior, and what he means to me in a concentrated series of weeks
*I loved the lightness in the air, and the time we got to spend together, just for the sake of the holiday.

When I remember those things, I realize that it is Christmas that helps us get there. And so THAT is why I love Christmas so much, and perhaps that is why I feel so somber when the day comes to an end. I think it really helps me appreciate those little things in my life better, and so that is why. . .I am already looking forward to next year.

Happy Holidays 2010

This will be our official Christmas Card. We have never been one for printing and mailing out the actual version of this, so until that happens- we have the blog! I do love Christmas info cards like these. You get to learn the life and times of the people that you know and care to keep in touch with, even if it hasn't been since last Christmas. So without further delay, here is the Robins Family Christmas Card 2010!

Royal: Still (thankfully) has his job at his school. We are so grateful that he is able to be in a job that he truly enjoys, and that it provides for us to be happy and healthy. He is still the Elders Quorum President although our ward's EQ was split, so now he dutifully serves those with last names ending in I-Z. Each month he also surprises me with some new facial growth carved into creative design. He is truly a wonderful husband and a super-duper excellent dad!



Da'nelle: I quit my teaching job (see previous posts if you would like) in August and started doing some side jobs to help me stay at home with "the kids." (It's so fun to say it plurally!) I have learned the tremendous joys and struggles of being at home all day. I mean, honestly, where DOES the time go? But regardless of the trivial things there is absolutely NO place I would rather be than at home taking care and teaching and loving our two sweet children. P.S. Isn't this cow picture AWESOME! This is what motherhood is all about!

Lucy: Almost 3, and we know it. She took a turn this year when Grant came and she realized that she was no longer the center of the universe. She is sweet and precocious and capable of so much. It has been hard for me to see her as a little girl and no longer as my baby. She knows pretty much all her letters and can count to 12. She is adventurous and learning to be careful-we have had no concussions this year! We just love her!





Grant: Without argument the sweetest little guy, ever. He is 8 months, and trying to walk. He is also very tolerant of Lucy playing rough with him, giggling the whole way through. Love his laugh, his wide smile, his amazing gentle spirit, and that he is the bestest little baby in the world. He truly makes you feel lucky to be around him.

We have been exceptionally blessed this year and are so grateful for this time to remember our Savior and all that he has done for us. What a blessing he is to our lives, and we hope we can emulate his life throughout the year.

We hope all is fabulous for you and your family. Send us an email or call us with what is going on in your brood, and take care until next time.

An Ode to Sleep

Ah, sleep. I could write volumes on the many aspects of how it has affected my life.

I could discuss how I miss it, especially now having two kids with irregular sleeping habits. I don't think I have ever felt "caught up" on my sleep since I turned 12.
I remember how I used to have a Sunday nap ritual; snuggled in my bed, regardless of the season, and slumbering in my down comforter until Sunday dinner would wake me.

I love sleeping in Royal's arms, he's so comfy and I feel super protected.
Nowadays sleep is something that I plan into my day. Not just for myself, but for naptime (at least for Grant as Lucy has refused to nap anymore.) And oh the joy of having 2 kids asleep at the same time. I almost don't know what to do once it happens.

But the two items I wanted to share are these:
1) Lucy's Magical Adventures in Sleeping. This is my daughter. She is a wild sleeper.
When I was little my mom told me I curled into a ball like a kitten when I slept. This is NOT Lucy. She randomly flails about in her sleep like an epileptic octopus. She also migrates. It is common when we check on her to find her OUT of her bed. Once I found her wedged between the two sidebars that are 2 1/2 feet apart. She doesn't seem to be too affected by it as she can sleep through the movement and the relocation each night. What a sweetie.

2) Putting a baby to sleep. Have you ever noticed how rewarding it is to get a baby to sleep? That whole expression of "sleeping like a baby" is something I truly wish I could achieve.
When you have the ability to hold and rock a sweet little thing to sleep, and to see the peace in their face; its inspiring. It's as if they are saying, "I Trust You." I love to smell their little hair and kiss their soft foreheads and let them touch my cheek. I try to take a couple selfish holds and hugs from my sleeping babies, just to feel a bit of heaven. It will always be one of my favorite things of motherhood.

Becoming A Mother Bear

So, you've all heard those stories of epic aggression when someone or something steps between a mother bear and her cubs. It's commonly used when a mild mannered person changes into a fiercely protective being all for the sake of her beloved children. I have thought to myself: Would I have those instincts when it really mattered? Would I be fearless and tough, controllably irrational, and be able to call upon primal powers just to protect my little babies?
Well, my friends, that time came for me recently.
About this time of year the mice decide they would rather live indoors where we have a costly controlled heated environment rather than outside. We, on the other hand, are not so welcome to their invasion. And so it began with the traditional laying of the traps (oh, if at any time in this paragraph and beyond you say "oh, gross" then I feel have sufficiently represented my experience.) Royal was so great, he was very talented at spreading peanut butter and laying them delicately down for the fiendish little fellows. (Let's not talk about when Lucy curiously touched one, then accidentally stepped on another. Don't worry, she is tough and okay.)
I kind of forgot about them until one night when I opened the closet door to my nemesis. I saw him. I squealed. He twitched. Both from the response to my scream and also because his life was dwindling away. I knew he was stuck, I knew that he WASN'T dead, and I knew that I had to kill him. Oh, gross.

How should I do it? How could I do it? So there I was, trying to decide WHAT to do. After an encouraging call from Royal, I hung up and looked at him. Lucy was around the corner on the steps this whole time, wondering what the heck her mom was up to, but being oh, so patient. At first sight, I saw this cute little nose, and soft brown eyes.

But then, I remembered the mouse poop I had just cleaned out of the closet. I thought of the disease ridden feet that could have been running across the same floor that my sweet little Grantster is learning to crawl on. I thought of how I felt so violated at his existence into our home and that is when I became the Mother Bear.
I turned mean. I evoked some power I was never aware of. If I had been in a movie, there would have been a swirling of smoke behind me. I took that energy and allowed him to die in a cruel and gruesome manner which I will spare you all the details of. I just hope I can be forgiven for the life that I have taken.

After a trip to the dumpster, and a hug for my girl, I had this realization that I . . .did it. I saved my kids. Maybe not from immediate death, but definitely some sort of threat to their lives. Look at me, I'm the Mama Bear.

I Get to be the One

It's 5:45 AM. A small distant voice in the darkness says, "Mom?" I get up to comfort my darling little Lucy. I have found that being home has evoked an amazing awareness of the needs of my children.

When I was working, I felt like my relationship with Lucy was so objective-based. "We need to hurry and get dressed/ get dinner made/ get ready for bed/ clean up the house. . ." whatever else it was. It was so sad because I felt, especially when I was pregnant with Grant, that I was wasting the better part of me on the kids at school, and Lucy was left with the tired, impatient, and less tolerant version of me.



Consequently I found myself carrying a bit of that over when I was able to stay home with them. And that's when it hit me, "Is THIS how I want my children to remember me as a mother?" Am I fostering an atmosphere where they feel loved, not just taken care of? Important, not just visible? Understood, not just tolerated? My heart ached for the times that I rushed through things, rather than appreciated the moment that I had.

I hear the phrase, "Hold Me Please, Mama" at least 25 times a day from Lucy. Any mother knows it would not be realistic to pick up your child every time that they request it. But I have started to change what I am doing. I used to say that I will hold her after I finish these 5 dishes, but what happens is I rationalize and say, that I need to clean the counters, and then I need to wipe the table, but then I need to take out the garbage. . etc. And after a while, she is either clinging to my leg or has moved on to something else. This is very difficult for me. I am the kind of person that cannot relax if there is a sink of dirty dishes or my house is a mess.

I am really trying to change that. I have come to appreciate that I GET TO BE THE ONE she wants. If I don't enjoy the time with her now, I am going to miss out on it. I keep telling myself- she is only two years old, RIGHT NOW. She won't always want you to HOLD HER.


And so it is the same with Grant. He is such a sweet and content little baby. Because of that I find myself saying that he is fine scooting around the ground curiously looking at things, and I can get these things done. He is already 7 months, and I feel that they have gone by about 3 times faster than when Lucy reached that point. I don't want to miss anything because things were "content." I have immense gratitude for the opportunity I have had to stay home with them. But mostly, I feel grateful that I get to be the mom.



















I get to be the one to comfort them. I can make the hurt, the hunger, the fear go away.




Do I have any special skills for this? No, I just get to be there with them. I get to be the one who wakes up and walks mechanically to Grant's crib to feed him in the night. I get to be the one to hear silly songs and play Hide it and read books with. I get to be the one that gets drooled on and cried to and laughed with and everything in between. I get to be, so I find I want to be more. My heart just bursts when I think about how special and wonderful they are, and that they are mine.


I know that it will always be worth it, and I know, that I'm gonna miss it when it's gone. I just have to remember, I GET TO BE THE ONE for that voice in the dark.