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Noah’s never been a morning person. He stays up late, has a hard time sleeping when he does fall asleep, and has an even harder time waking up in the morning. Usually when I have to wake him up for something, like to drop Mark off at the train, Noah usually shouts at us about how we always wake him up too early and we never let him sleep in. It’s pretty ugly to say the least. So you can imagine my apprehension this morning as I approached his bed to wake him up for school. What kind of reprimand was I about to receive? Well, Noah flung his covers off him immediately, sat right up and trying as hard as he could to pout and smiling all at the same time (the way only Noah can), he sprung out of bed. His clothes were on in ten seconds flat and he was ready to go. Yesterday, a friend accused me of keeping my kids out of preschool just so they’ll be excited to start Kindergarten. And, while that’s never been my intention, I’m glad it works. I couldn’t get Noah ready fast enough.

Hunter, on the other hand, wasn’t so excited about going back to school. It’s not that he didn’t want to go. It’s just that he’d rather stay home and play computer games and listen to Harry Potter cassettes all day. We added up how many pages of Harry Potter he’s listened to this summer and it was just over 2700 pages. He’s still got volume six to go and I know he’d rather be listening to that than sitting at a desk doing math and reading easy readers. But, he’s definitely missed his friends and yesterday at the “meet and greet” he discovered that his best friend, Christian, will be sitting directly across from him at his table. I think that made Hunter’s day. So this morning he chose to wear his “Homework makes me crabby” shirt and seemed excited, if not for himself then definitely for Noah. He didn’t drag his feet today and I hope it remains that way for the rest of the year. Here’s to another school year–let’s hope it’s a good one.

Here are the past two days’ worth of eggs. Lucky is currently molting, thanks to the swiftly changing temperatures and shorter days so we won’t be seeing any white eggs for a few weeks. But that’s okay. We’re getting at least three eggs a day and once she starts laying again it will only take us three days to make a dozen eggs. And if all five of them lay in a day we’ll make a dozen every two and a half days. Anybody want a fresh dozen?

The other day we were at a friend’s house for an End of Summer Bash. You and several other kids were running around, playing together and having fun in the sun and the water. I was sitting on the lawn close by wrestling your very fussy baby brother and chatting with a friend. We were chuckling at the silly things each of you kids were doing as you ran down the slip-n-slide, doing all sorts of stunts. After your turn, as you came running back, my friend laughed and said, “Look at that little Tonka truck!” As I watched you run down the sidewalk with your sun-tanned skin and your solid little body, grinning from ear to ear, I thought that was the perfect description of you. You are such a little Tonka truck.

You have also been given the nickname, Snack, by your Uncle Michael. Part of the reason you received that nickname is due to the fact that you are so much fun to chase and tickle and pretend to eat–it was just natural. But I think another part of you receiving that nickname is because you are so sweet and wonderful. The other day I was scrubbing our stovetop. You meandered in and immediately started pushing a chair over so you could help. I stopped you because I was afraid you’d get chemicals on your hands and I needed the space to manuever. Disappointed that you couldn’t help you stopped me mid-kitchen and said, “But if you need help. . . you could just ask me.” I stared at you in disbelief. This coming from a four year old? Surely you should be off playing with your toys–not offering to help your mother do her chores! I immediately asked your Daddy if he could ever remember being four and begging his mommy to help do the housework and he couldn’t remember such a time. No–in that way you are very unique and very dear to my heart. When I sweep the floor, you always come running into the kitchen, grab the dustpan and sweep up the dirt pile. When Caleb is crying you are the first to run in and cheer him up. You are my little sidekick. You help me cook, you help me clean, you help me gather the chickens eggs. You do dishes, scrub toilets, wash laundry, clean windows and doors–just about anything you’re given the chance. Sometimes I worry that I ask too much of you. And yet, there’s something about having you by my side doing whatever miserable chore that needs doing, that makes it seem not so miserable but rather fun and enjoyable. I know all of my children love me, but there’s something about you that says it better than the rest. Besides all of the help you offer me, I think it must be the hugs and kisses you are constantly giving me. And there’s not a day that goes by without you saying “I love you” at least a dozen times. You make me feel like the luckiest Mommy on earth and while it makes no sense to me, why a four-year old would love a mommy like me so much, I’m glad that you do and I hope you never stop.

For a few months now, you’ve been asking for three very specific things for your birthday–an easy bake oven, a chainsaw and a bath bomb of your very own. I think this says a lot about who you are right now. You remind me so much of your Dad, just in a tinier package. You love to cook and you love to eat–there’s no doubt about that. An easy bake oven is right up your alley. We brought it home last night and within minutes you had whipped up a batch of butterscotch brownies. And you were so excited to share them with everyone. This morning when I came downstairs you were sitting at the kitchen table once again, watching the timer on your easy bake oven. A few minutes later, you pushed a tiny pan of Breakfast Cake out of your oven, proud as could be. And in two seconds flat it was gone.

You also love to help your Daddy in anyway possible. A few months ago you assisted your Dad in removing a giant tree stump out of our garden patch. That was the first time you saw a chainsaw up close and personal and you immediately fell in love with it. That’s when you decided you had to have one of your own. Just like your Dad, you are going to be a handy man–able to fix just about anything. You help your Dad mow the lawn, hang the coat hooks, drill, saw, hammer–anything. There’s really nothing you won’t try and not very many things that you haven’t succeeded at.

I think the bath bomb reminds me of how little you still are. In so many ways you seem so grown up. But you are only four small years. You love having baths and playing in any body of water. You love trucks and dirt and mud. You enjoy watching Max and Ruby, Dora the Explorer and Diego, Miffy and Maisy, the Backyardigans, Little Einsteins, Little Bear and Franklin on TV. You love your brothers and are always tickled pink when one or two of them will play with you. You get frustrated when you can’t draw something just right, to the point that you aren’t allowed to color in Sacrament meeting anymore. But on the good days, when you don’t get so frustrated you are really good drawing excavators and at tracing your hand and turning it into a turkey.

You play well with everyone and are really good at taking turns and sharing. Even today, you asked if you could play computer. I got you all situated and left you to play while I loaded the dishwasher. Within five minutes both of your big brothers were on either side of you taking turns stealing the computer away from you. But did you cry and whine? No. You just sat patiently, waiting for them to give the computer back. I think you would still be sitting there, quietly waiting for your turn, if I hadn’t insisted they leave you alone. You really enjoy having books read to you and listening to music that Kak sends us. It never ceases to amaze me at how quickly you pick up the lyrics and how well you remember them.

Last week you and I played Mousetrap together. So many things on my “to do” list were nagging me, sitting down to play that game was almost painful. But you were so excited to play and so fun to play with, it wasn’t long before my “to do” list had evaporated and I found myself wanting to play the game again and again with you. There are some days when you struggle without a nap. On those rare occasions, one of your favorite things to do is cuddle up with me in bed and watch the Food Network. You can identify Rachel Ray just about anywhere. I love to lay with you and listen to you comment about the “yucky” stuff they are making or wondering when we can make a particular goodie at our house. And slowly your eyes start to droop and your breathing gets heavier and your body is warm and sticky snuggled up next to mine and I know I’m in heaven–just to be there, snuggled up next to you. I hope the next four years are as wonderful for you as the past four have been for me. I love you and Happy Birthday!

So I had a Doctor’s appointment today and he scheduled my c-section for October 19th. Deep down inside I knew that couldn’t possibly be my 38-week mark, but I really wanted it to be and so I pretended all the way home that he was right and I was wrong and I really would be delivered come mid-October. But that nagging feeling wouldn’t leave me alone and when I mentioned it to Mark he confirmed my suspicions–the doctor had to be wrong. Even then I tried to convince myself that one week wasn’t going to make that much of a difference and that I shouldn’t worry about it. But the words of my mom’s friend Birgid kept running through my head–”Tell Shana to get those babies as big as she can before they are born.” And I’m smart enough to know that yes, even a week would make a huge difference for the babies. So. . . I finally gave in and called the doctor and yes, he was wrong and I was right. So he rescheduled my c-section for October 25th and dashed my high hopes into a million tiny pieces. I know it’s only six days longer but yes, even six days makes a huge difference when you are pregnant, no matter how many babies you are carrying.

So this summer we signed up for the local library’s summer reading program. Mostly the boys wanted to do it because it meant they got to spin a giant, noisy wheel over and over again–something the grouchy old librarians have told them not to do for the past several years. I decided to do it because the school said Hunter was supposed to read some books this summer and since they failed to send home any sort of guidance as to what they wanted him to read, I figured the librarians would have that all figured out for me. Plus, I liked the thought of driving those cranky old librarians crazy with my kids spinning that wheel over and over again.

For me, it was a lot of work. I mean, try and find a biography that a three year old will be interested in or a book of poetry that your seven year old computer game addicted son will enjoy reading to you. Not an easy task. And then multiply that by three (since I had to do it with each of the boys) and add a fussy baby who really doesn’t want to be there and who is really speedy at crawling off and pulling every book off the shelf before you find where he’s crawled off to. It was probably more work than it was worth. At least for me.

But for the boys, it was a whole different story. Not only did they get to spin the noisy wheel but after reading five books, they received a giant poster, a free kids meal at Subway Sandwiches and their picture in the library scrapbook. After twelve books, they each got to pick a brand new library book and be the very first to check it out. And not only that, they got their names put in the book so that everyone would know that they read 12 books in the summer reading program. We didn’t quite finish the entire program which required reading 15 books and meant they’d receive their very own paperback book to take home for keeps, but we got close and I think when all was said and done, they were very proud of themselves for doing as much as they did.

We also decided that we would finish the Book of Mormon this summer. We started reading it last September with the Prophet’s challenge and after Christmas, sort of lost momentum. We read sporadically through the spring and about a month into summer I decided enough was enough, it was time to finish. So we did. . . last night. As a reward, the boys each received their own pocket-sized version of the Book of Mormon with their names embossed on the front (thanks, Grandma Stout) and a candy treat. Again they sure were proud of themselves. And they should be. I don’t think I read the entire Book of Mormon the entire way through until I was in college and even then it was only what I needed to do to pass the Religion classes. Our new goal is to read the book again, but this time to finish in time for the Hill Cumorah Pageant next summer. Hunter has already started reading the book by himself and is doing a great job–6 chapters in one day. (He’s also listened to the first four Harry Potter books this summer and can’t wait to get his hands on volume five.)

**After reading the Book of Mormon last night I was talking to the boys about how Moroni will meet us after we die and ask us if we read the Book of Mormon and if we believed it and followed its teachings. All of the sudden Noah and Denver got really excited. Denver enthusiastically chimed in, “Oh and the dead baby bird will be there.”

“Yeah, and Mr. Rodgers!” added Noah.

“Yeah. . . .” was about all I could say. Our discussion was obviously over their heads and there was no point going backwards. At least they have a hope of life after death and that they’ll see their loved ones again someday. For now, that’s enough.

Whelp! Here’s the proof that they really are twelve foot sunflowers. Everything about them is gigantic, including Noah’s love for them. We just discovered, after one of them fell completely over, that they are ready to hang and dry. And then, once the seeds dry up, we can roast them and eat them. It’s kind of a fun thing to harvest and definitely different. We’ll see how they turn out. If they’re yucky, I read somewhere that you can dry the sunflower heads and hang them out during the winter for the birds, who absolutely love them. Either way I’m sure we’ll be doing something interesting with them.

Caleb is currently sick with the Coxsackie Virus. I hate the Coxsackie Virus. Denver had it when he was pretty little and it was not fun. It hasn’t been fun with Caleb either. He’s been up for two nights straight, screaming, all night long. For those of you who don’t know about Coxsackie Virus, it causes children 5 years old and younger to break out in sores all over their hands, feet and mouth. The type of virus you get determines how bad you get it and where you get the sores. Denver had it the worst–hands, feet and mouth. Caleb just got them in his mouth, but obviously, that’s bad enough. Because it’s a virus, there is no antibiotic for it. All you can do is pump the kid full of tylenol and ibuprofen and pray for it to be over really soon. Anyway, thanks to this virus, Caleb has been permanently attatched to my hip (or Mark’s) for the past several days. And that’s not really a bad thing unless you are seven months pregnant with twins and have a “things to get done before the twins are born” list as long as mine. Then it starts to be a problem.

First of all, I have no waist and I’m not sure you could call what I do have even hips. I’m just one giant blob of a person at this point and carrying a baby is slightly difficult as a result. Add to that the fact that my back is killing me and toting a 21-pound dead weight everywhere I go only makes matters worse. Normally I can get away with setting Caleb down here and there but because he’s feeling sick, he’s gotten just a bit clingy. So. . . I’ve had to get really creative at washing dishes, folding laundry and making dinner with only one hand. Or worse, I just haven’t done any of the above things and our house is definitely suffering as a result. And that means, so is my “to do” list.

And that’s the other problem. It’s not just an ordinary “to do” list. It’s an enormous “to do” list. And the fact that I’m not getting to it is making me crazy. I think I’m having a panic attack. . . about the twins. . . and all the things that I think need to be done before they are born or else our whole world is going to fall apart. Except I know it’s not going to fall apart, it just feels like it. So what if I don’t have the scrapbooks up to date? I mean, who cares if the kids’ pictures are out of order and mixed up and I can’t tell who’s who anymore? Life will go on, the kids will get over it–not a big deal. And so what if I don’t have 100 casseroles stocked up in my freezer and a year’s supply of diapers and formula stashed away? I can order groceries online and Mark likes to go to Walmart, especially alone. We’ll survive. The twins don’t need their own special handmade birth announcements and they won’t even notice their crazy quilts aren’t quite finished, at least not till their two or three. The kitchen will still function even if I don’t get around to re-organizing everything. But somehow, even though I know we’ll be okay, I just can’t relax. I guess it’s my “all or nothing” attitude, my black or white personality. Either everything is going to be perfect or I’m just not going to bother. I did it last year. I’m going to do it this year and who cares that I have an extra baby on my hip this time around? I’m going to do it. And that is what’s causing my insanity. The nesting bug and this gigantic expectation I have of myself to be and have everything perfect. And probably the silliest thing of all is that somewhere deep down inside I know that no matter how prepared I am for these babies, all hell is going to break loose anyway and all my work will have been for naught. And if that’s not insane, I don’t know what is.

There’s something wrong about the fact that the birth of two teensy weensy babies is forcing us to buy something so enormous.

Aunt Sonnet came to visit us this weekend. I don’t know how we got so lucky but I’m glad we did and so are the boys. We’ve had all sorts of fun. She brought a coupon for a free New Release Rental from Blockbuster and let the boys pick out a movie to watch. We got Eight Below and treats from CVS and the boys snuggled up with their special ble-ble’s and Sonnet for the entire show. All three of the big boys were shocked and thrilled that Sonnet had her own special ble-ble and enjoyed the fact that she was even willing to share it with them.

Aunt Sonnet went for a walk with us to the “duck park.” It’s not a very long walk, only about 1/2 a mile, but when you’re little I suppose that seems like a very long walk. So after we played at the park for awhile, we started the long journey home. All three of the big boys started complaining about the length of the walk and how hot and tired they were. Well, Aunt Sonnet was kind enough to offer each of the boys a piggy-back ride so their feet could rest a bit and that was no easy job, considering Hunter weighs almost as much as Sonnet and the walk home is entirely up hill. But she did it anyway and saved not only their feet from falling off, but their Mommy from screaming her head off.

Sonnet also brought along Razor, her dog. Denver fell in love with Razor almost instantly and has enjoyed every waking moment he’s had with both Sonnet and her dog. Every time Sonnet has to take the dog out, Denver wants to go with. He especially loved holding Razor’s leash and taking her for a walk to the park. He loves watching Razor chase her tail and chase the light from a flashlight. Denver will definitely miss Sonnet and Razor when they leave.

Sonnet stayed up late last night washing my dishes. She went with me to get a pedicure and helped me do my grocery shopping. She helped me stay awake late into the night so I could greet Mark when he returned home from his business trip. She made her Monterrey Jack Salsa for the ward Linger-Longer and it was the hit of the party, so much so, people were offerring to pay her for the recipe. She washed my dishes again tonight, built Denver one of the coolest train track layouts he’s ever laid eyes on, snuggled Noah, and created Happy Fun Land with Hunter. Aunt Sonnet will be sorely missed tomorrow when she heads back to North Carolina and the boys are already trying to figure out how we’re going to get together with her again. Thanks for coming Aunt Sonnet–we hope we get lucky like this again real soon.

I don’t know if I’m lacking in Vitamin A or if it’s cinnamon I’m craving. Perhaps it’s Fall that I’m after. Whatever it is–I’ve been craving pumpkin pie and spiced cider, both of which I made tonight and enjoyed thoroughly. Anybody else want some?