100th Post!

I am not one for counting or caring, but I just looked at my archives and noticed that "Are You My Mother?" from a few days ago was my 100th post on Owner of the Band. I just wanted to take this milestone to check in with all of you about my blog tag line and then share some very deep and rather ironic thoughts that I am still too scared to mention to my midwives.

So first of all here is a status on what I claim to be. A lady who:

• loves babies -- In spite of the constant complaining, I assure you that I am still completely in love with make children. I love children as a whole, love my own "children," and while I hate infertility with a bloody (literally) passion, I love what it has taught me and who it has helped me become. I plan to make babies for as long as humanly possible. I even love babies when they skipped their nap, went to bed early with hot chocolate milk in a bottle and are currently screaming at my to "get out" a 6 p.m. at night. (Love them and will ignore them...)
  
• sustains womanhood -- Obviously, I love the part of womanhood that makes babies. But I am also so passion about the part of womanhood that nurtures the world in and outside of the family unit. I believe women naturally have a sensitivity that we can use and harness to bring peace and happiness to the world. We are powerful, we are strong, and we are getting more powerful and strong as we gain the support of governments, laws, and each other. So cool. This is a sisterhood and a divine role that I would not give up for anything.
  
• believes in yoga -- As I said earlier this week, I love it and need more of it. My most coveted getaway is a yoga-themed cruise to anywhere. I would love to spend a week basking in the power and peace of yoga and communing with all the crazies who love it too. Can't afford a cruise? I'll settle for a yoga wilderness retreat, a day-long seminar, or on a busy week even just a crappy Gold's Gym class. I love a downward facing dog with or without a baby pulling my hair out while I do it. Yoga helps me become the baby-raising woman I know I can be.
  
• USED to own a rock band -- Yes, we owned a rock band, and it was fun. Then we gave it away in exchange for both temporal and spiritual peace of life and mind. We lost $100,000 and never looked back. We are a couple who follows our dreams. We're doers, not talkers, and I love it. I'd do it again and again. And if we switch careers yet again in two years, so be it. Oh the stories I'll have to tell as I continue to strongly and passionately OWN my live for all it can be. ROCK on!
  

Happy 100th Anniversary to Me!!

Now for the "deep and rather ironic thoughts that I am still too scared to mention to my midwives" as I promised above:

I want my Clomid! When will you give it to me?

Yes, you heard it here folks, in the middle of all the aches and pains, I am family planning. When will they give me the clomid, so I can keep this baby train going? Cho-Cho! I have not made any official plans yet because I really do have some important questions for my "Health Care Provider," and part of those questions involve finding the doc who will give me what I want when I want it.

So first I am waiting for a doctors appointment where I am not recovering from bleeding or depression or something horrible that will make them look at me and say, "Up her dosage."

I plan to reasonably and responsibly find out what my midwives think is too soon to have #3, when I would have to stop nursing to get on Clomid, how the Zoloft and other complications factor in to the next pregnancy and all that Jazz. But I am not messing around.

When I decided to start insemination, I emailed a good friend of mine who was living in Mexico for the summer, I declared to her as I will to you now, that I believe the happiest things in my life will come from baring and raising my children. I want lots. I want them now, and I plan to be pregnant or trying for the next 10 years. I love it. I want it to be who I am because, again, it makes me happy.

So, if Clomid makes this possible: Cho-Cho!! I am on board. I am not going to "sort of try" to get prognant for the next 10 years. I think that will make me miserable like it did in rounds one and two. Now, it is very possible that after I have McKenna, I will want a break, and if I do, I will take one. But the truth is, I wanted to be pregnant again 2 days after I got home with Quinn. I am only preparing for what I know is in my heart.

As for timeline details, if I get pregnant again in September, the babies would be 1 year apart, and my UVU insurance would pay 100% of baby #3 just in time for me to retire as planned in July 2010. That is the earliest I would consider getting knocked up again. There are plenty of down sides to that nearly impossible plan, but lots of upsides too. The other end of my window is March 2010. If I am not pregnant my then, I'd be very sad.

So, wish me luck as I either convince someone to write me a prescription or knock someone over the head and steel it. There is me owning my life again. Ha! Love it!

Thanks for reading and following me on my wild ride. Hold on to your hats and glasses folks, it is only going to get better.





P.S. Sorry I don't have a cool giveaway for this big occasion, but I gave most everything I have to the band, and what is left is reserved for this chocolate-faced 2 year old with no pants who is now out of bed and playing with my "nice" jewelry.

Still Eating Dirt ... One Cookie at a Time

Less you all think I have completely thrown my plant-based diet to the wind in exchange for multiple bowls of ice cream every night, you would be only half correct.

Yes, I am eating my fair share of ice cream (for two) during this pregnancy, and I never passed the doughnuts at Kohler's without downing a chocolate cake doughnut with chocolate frosting and sprinkles before I even get to the first food isle. But I have not forgotten my enlightened eating habits of 2008.

We recently started buying chicken and beef to cook for dinner, and we quickly remembered why it was so easy to give up chicken last year when we ran out of money -- we don't really like chicken (Of, there are exceptions to this rule). Tim complains very passive aggressively about all the beans we ate, but in the end, he doesn't actually like the alternative. So as we have been painfully topping off the chicken, it has been easier to remember why we switched things up in the first place.

So, it comes down to this:

• I still prefer beans to meat
• The more wheat and fewer ingredients in my bread the better
• A day full of Adam's peanut butter is a sign of a great day
• I am always willing to eat or bake with dirt -- wheat flour is just a jumping off point for me.

I was at a great neighbors house a few weeks ago, and she served us Monster Cookies. I loved them on first bite, and then fell in love with them when I saw the recipe -- very earthy.

They are a little expensive to make because white sugar is replaced with pure maple syrup. I bought the ingredients and got the recipe right after eating the cookies, but I was too preoccupied trying to eat chicken that I never made them until yesterday. I loved them. They are good, peanuty, and work wonderfully as a breakfast, lunch, dinner or dessert -- or all four.

I was so relieved to be back on the dirt bandwagon that I even pulled out my wheat and grinder to do as the recipe suggests and use freshly ground whole wheat flour. I didn't have nuts, so I picked about a cup of assorted nuts out of my trail mix, and I used Adam's Creamy instead of chunky peanut butter. I don't think I mixed the chocolate chips in enough because some of my cookies were all chocolate (no complaints), so I might use 1 or 1 and a half cups of the chips next time. And then, of course, I used semi-sweet chocolate because, well, it tastes better for me ... (I said I enjoyed them, I didn't say was being rational!)

Enjoy!!

MONSTER COOKIES -- Recipe Supplied by Kati Kofford

Preheat oven to 350

3 large eggs

1 cup pure maple syrup

1 tsp molasses

1 stick butter, softened

4 1/2 cups rolled oats

2 tsp baking soda

2 cups chopped nuts

1 cup brown sugar (you can use less if you desire)

1 tsp vanilla

1/2 tsp salt

1 1/2 cups chunky peanut butter

2 cups freshly ground wheat flour (spelt & kamut will work, too)

2 cups mini M&M's or chocolate chips

Mix until well moistened. Drop by 1/4 cupfuls on parchment-lined cookie sheets. Don't flatten. Bake for 12-14 minutes, until they're a light golden brown. Cool on cooling rack.

P.S. The name comes from the shear size of these huge cookies. Biggest I've ever made and so fun.

Are you my mother?

Quinn's new favorite book is "Are you my mother?"

We own the board book version in Spanish. Tim reads it to her in both languages just for fun. She totally loves the story and loves helping the little bird look for his mother, "MOMMY, MOMMY!!!"

I think McKenna likes the book too because as I write this she is trying to kick the computer off of my belly. Or maybe she hates the book ... and me too ... because she kicks really hard.

Last night at midnight she said, "Are you my mother?" by kicking me so hard in such a weird way that I about fell off the toilet mid-pee. Thought I was going to die. I even woke up Tim and turned on the light to explain the pain so that in case it killed me he could get peace of mind by explaining it to the doctor and finding out how I passed.

Live Post: So Sleepy

FYI: I am sitting in class. My teacher (for experiemental psychology) is giving an example Power Point presentation. Nothing wrong with him or his presentation, but I am SOOO sleepy.

I just ate a chocolate muffin and a hardboiled egg. Still sleepy.

Yoga

For the record, I know that I would feel a lot better physically if I did yoga everyday or at least every couple days during this pregnancy.

I keep blaming the baby for my aches and pains, but it is my fault. I know that.

Not sure if I am going to do anything about it.

But for the record:

I know.

Beached Whale/ Mama

So, Quinn and I had a great day today.... but I have this new love, understanding, and fear about motherhood. Basically it comes back to this:

It is really hard.

Whether you are doing it right or wrong, it is really hard, but doing it right can really beat the life out of you. I wouldn't give it up for anything, but seriously, the best day could kill you.

I remember thinking this when Quinn was just a few weeks old. PERFECT BABY. She (and I) followed the Baby Wise book perfectly, and she literally slept all night and all day only waking up for food every 3 hours. Perfect. right? But I still remember sitting in my rocking chair one day just crying because I was so tired. Everything was perfect, and yet I was SOOOOO tired.

Then today Quinn and I took a walk, drove the car (together), stopped to see the horses and said "Hi" to the Camels and the cows all before 9 a.m.

I was an awesome mom. She was a great daughter.

And then we had a little falling out.

I explained my expectations that she get in the car (In her chair).... and she thought about them. And after a lot of patience, she "made a great choice."

We drove away from the cows on a quest to find some buses to look at and say, "Oh, a bus!!" (Which is Quinn's favorite activity.) And as we drove, I thought, "I am so tired." I taught. She learned. We both got what we wanted, and I am SO tired.

Later my little angel and I took a Mama/ Quinny outing to the pool. We swam and laughed and went on the slide. Later when Lindsay asked, "How was swimming?" I said, "It was great. I mean there is always a battle or two, but it was great." (She wanted another little boys Cars water shoes, and it started to fall apart from there. We worked it out, and then it ended with her falling off the curb and we carrying her and two big bags to the car.)

Even the best days are hard days. But I think that is what eventually makes it all worth it.

Mr. Poe used to say, "Stay away from people who take obstacles away from you." I told this to a student recently, and she said, "Why?" I said, "Because obstacles make you work. Work makes you become who you want to become, and that is what makes us happy in the end (and in the moment if we admit it.)"

So, I guess we are safe with our kids.

Hats off to all the mamas, today. I have a new love for all of you.


P.S. I explained to Quinn today why Mommy takes pills in the morning, and why they are not vitamins or candy that Quinn can have. She understand and said with a sad face, "Mommy, ouchy in my head, too." Later, baby. Later.

The BIG month

So last night, Tim very politely commented that it looks like I went from 6 months to 9 months pregnant in one day. He's right that I am huge, but not right that it happened in one day. Trust me. I've been feeling it.

And then today one of my old man co-workers said, "This is the big month. I bet you are getting excited." I would have just smiled and nodded, but I figured if I did not correct him now and tell him the baby is coming in June that he would be asking me how over due I am for the next 12 weeks.

I just watched the Friends episode where Rachel is a week late with Emma. She comments that her baby thinks her bladder is a squeeze toy. I feel that way. She also gets really annoyed with everyone and everything around her. Amen for Zoloft because I do NOT feel that way. I even got the giggles a few times at work today. And someone gave me a free piece of pizza, so if the drugs weren't working, that would have done the trick.

Quinn was SOOO huggable the day she was born. I can't wait to do it all again... in three months.

Baby Cakes

Quinn says a lot of funny thing, but I especially love it when I say something and she repeats something else so that is makes more sense to her.

So, I say, "You want Daddy to come home?" and she says, "Yeah, Bob-Bob home."

I say, "Get your passey," and she says, "My Doe, my doe" ('Doe' comes from a combination of Dog-Dog and "Where'd it go?" which is what she says ALL THE TIME about her Passey as it bounces away.)

And my favorite, I say, "That dog is little," and she says, "baby dog." I say, "Cup cakes are little," and she says, "Baby Cakes."

Finally.... The Birthday Pics!

The full and complete birthday week is finally over. We got very tired, and we had a wonderful time. We had tons of parties and took tons of pictures. I just put a few of them here, but if you want to see the whole parade, you'll have to check out my web gallery at gallery.me.com/jillfellow (link not working, so just cut and paste.)

The Birthday pics are under Best of Quinn's 2nd Birthday.

Fun with California with a trip to the Long Beach Aquarium, a photo shoot, a birthday party and a day at Under the Sea indoor play gym with the cousins.



















Then, a pancake breakfast, a new baby doll, a swim party, a birthday dinner, a lots more gifts!!

The Business of Being Born

How great is my husband?

Today we were out and about with Quinn on a Saturday night date. We have very little money, so when we decided to go out, we just looked through our wallets and combined our old gift cards and coupons to put together a meal and an activity. After sorting through the receipts and trash, we came up with 4 free tacos at Taco Bell, a trip to Borders to buy books for Quinn, and a smoothie and an ice cream with sprinkles on the side (for Quinny) at Cold Stone. All Free. Nice work, Fellows!

Anyway, while we were out, Tim suddenly said, "Oh, I forgot! I have a surprise for you at home." Oddly enough, I was really in the mood to watch a movie, so I asked if he rented me a movie.... He wouldn't give hints.

When we got home, he made we wait in the bedroom while he got things ready. I heard popcorn popping, and I figured the whole "Surprise for you" thing was his way of getting to pick the movie. Men...

Well, it was a movie, but it was definitely for me. It was a documentary about Midwifery and home birth called, "The business of Being Born." He ran across the trailer a few days ago and decided to buy me the movie. What a man?! He knew I would love it, and I really did.

I loved the information about the business of giving birth in America, and even more so, I loved the amazing footage of women preparing to and then giving birth. It got me all psyched for my baby to come. It also got my all fueled to go natural, which is how I felt before but not after Quinn. I'm not super worried about it either way.

Anyway, Tim is great. And I don't always give him enough credit. However, I did use my heightened emotional state after watching the film to remind him very lovingly that I still absolutely love the name McKenna.

Hey, a girl's got to win some how...


(Loved this movie. Emotional. Informative. Wonderful.)

Lazy 2 year old

I mentioned in my last post that Quinn requested that she be put in bed after her birthday party on Sunday night. Well, it is a trend. This girl now loves her bed.

This morning I waited until 7 a.m. to finally go and get her out of bed. I was all dressed, packed and ready for the day, and all I needed to do was finish my bagel and get Quinn dressed and in the car. I opened the door to her roon and turned on the light. At this point I normally see a smily girl jump up and yelled "Ma il a" (milk) or "Mo Hot" (for more hot milk). But today ... nothing. She was sound asleep on her tummy all wrapped up in her big blanket from her Aunts Sally and Sara.

I teased her, tickled her, gave her more time, made the lights brighter, but all I got from her was a very teenaged sounding quiet whine, "No, mommy, No."

I finally took off her blankets to pack them for daycare. I heard little mumbles, "No, mommy. My blan-a-et." I put her stuff to the car and turned it on. When I got back, she had found two small baby blankets hang on the side of the crib and wrapped her self tightly in them. She said peacefully, "My blan-a-ets" as she fell back asleep!

I finally had to just lift her half-naked body (including a wet diaper) blankets and all and put her in the car. She gave me the dead fish, so she weighed a hundred pounds. A few minutes into the car ride, she woke up with her usual orders. Mommy, Ma il a" "More bus, mommy. More bus" and of course, "My ap-ple."

After all who doesn't love their bed and their breakfast.

A girl after my own heart.

Turning 2!

Quinn turns 2 tomorrow. Crazy.

Again, I stick to my selfish and beautiful theory that birthdays should be about showering the mama with gifts. After all Quinn didn't give birth; I did. All she did was survive 2 years.... and again, wasn't that ALL me? She can have "born day," and maybe we can start celebrating that when she's 18 and I'm no longer doing all the work.

But, of course, I'm not (completely) crazy, so we've already been celebrating Quinn and her wonderful life for days now. Quinn and I just got home from LA where my family threw her a really great birthday party complete with the biggest pink cake you can imagine.

Bridget was holding a birthday party for Paige at the same time in the same city. (bad timing because we really wanted to be at each other's parties). I stopped by the Paige party location on Saturday to say "hi." The house smelled like cake and baked goods. The presents were wrapped in all Minnie Mouse colors. The Minnie Mouse balloons were ready to go, and all that needed completing was the ironing of the custom-made Minnie Mouse dress for the birthday girl. Very impressive. Very fun!

On the other hand, Quinn' party had Dora balloons, Elmo plates, 2 goody bags and only a few pretend gifts since all the real gifts were shipped to Utah. It also had two wet 2 year olds, some improptu and unbrushed pig tails, a saggy diaper and a Wii bowling event. But honestly this party had more love than could ever fit in one house. It was mix-matched and AMAZING. I loved it.

The cake didn't colapse when we cut it as we were pretty sure it was going to. The crayon b-day candles were so cute. Quinn understood how to blow out candles, and Calli sang Happy Birthday all day. Quinn and Calli spent most of the afternoon running up and down Grandpa John's stream with all their clothes on. And when it was all over and everyone went home, Quinn nicely came over to me and with a little wishper of "Ni-night, mommy" requested that I put her to bed. She slept 12 hours straight and woke up in a great mood. NO COMPLAINTS!! Again, it was a great way to celebrate.

Pictures from LA and an update on the Utah event to come Wednesday.

Happy Birthday, Quinn. Two years ago tonight I was pushing. Two years and 4 hours from now.... I was still pushing. (Again, where are my gifts?) I love you, Baby Girl! I'd do it again in a heart beat.

More deep thoughts about Zoloft

So, as I said, it appears the Zoloft has fixed the problem. But it has also made me happy and relaxed and very quick to laugh. What's not to love... about me? right?

But at the same time I know this is VERY temporary because I have to start weening pretty soon so the baby will not have withdrawals after she is born. Darn.

I was talking to my sister about it, and I came up with this really great way to look at the situation. I think sometimes we forget what our best selves look like. We forget how it feels to not take offense. We forgot how it looks when we relax or what happens when we don't over plan or over expect or over think in our lives.

I feel like this stint on the miracle drug has given me a really beautiful chance to reconnect with myself. I love my reactions, my relationships and my feelings right now.

In real life it is REALLY hard to be happy all the time, and we shouldn't even try because we would go nuts and probably fail. But the effects of happiness on how we treat people is priceless, and again, I think sometimes it is just that we forget how to be nicer or patient or soft or fun or understanding. The Zoloft has just reminded me what it looks like to make these things a priority.

This weekend, for example, it was so easy to just love my parents and siblings for who they are. No judging, no fighting, no mocking, no teasing, no useless debating, no correcting. I just had a chance to just enjoy them. I wasn't defensive or grouchy or stressed, and it opened the door to a great example of how to treat them that I can remember if times ever get hard in the future.

Have you ever had someone say, "Just kill them with kindness" or "Turn the other cheek" or "Just don't let them get under your skin." You're think, "What the heck does that look like?" or "That doesn't apply here AT ALL." The Zoloft has shown me in multiple situations new options for how to act.

So I can't keep the Zoloft (or my sweet, sweet Zoloft) but I can keep the example.

And I hope I do.

P.S. Here is one more example to show you how the Zoloft relaxes me: Tim and I are huge fans of "The Office." We watch it together, but I have to be holding the Tivo remote because Michael Scott stresses me out so badly that I have to pause it and take breaks or scream multiple times during the awkward show. Last week we were watching, and half way through I realized that I wasn't holding the remote AND I was totally confused about why on earth Tim would pause it and say things like, "Oh my gosh, I just can't watch. Oh my gosh." I was like, "What is the problem. It's not even bad this week. Just watch" .... He was no more stressed than normal, but he seemed like a mess in contrast with my comma. My beautiful comma.

Hair Cut!

So, Whereas Quinn turns 2 next week and Whereas Quinn's hair was getting crazy and whereas the morning battles were getting increasingly longer each day and ... in spite of Tim's objections ....

Quinn got her first hair cut today.

A couple people told me to just cut it on my own, but I figured that would only further the relationship damage that "hair" has already had on my relationship with my first born. So, I got a coupon from a great neighbor, and we headed to "Cookie Cutters" to get a special big girl hair cut complete with a poodle-themed salon chair and Elmo on the small screen.

The "after" pics don't really do her new style justice because I would never round brush her hair in a million years because 1) I am lazy 2) She hates time doing hair and 3) Fellows have round heads ...

Here is the product of our fun day!



Curly and Crazy: The "Before" Shot




Focused on Elmo: The "During" shot as Ashlee checks out the curls and cuts them off.




Why wait until the end for a sucker?




Cutest Place Ever!!




So happy!




From the back!





More from the front!




Posing with her Balloon and her sucker. Very Proud.





Mommy saves a lock of hair.




Time to slide and play!!





All done and so pretty!




Also, notice her adorable outfit, which, of course, was one of the many we bought on our Monday shopping trip. I couldn't help take pictures of her ALL day. Love it.

My drugs. My Smiles.

Just wanted to update you and tell you that I LOVE my Zoloft with a passion!

I can't remember being this happy since... oh I don't know ... BEFORE I GOT KNOCKED UP!

I felt better right when I started taking the medication, but I think those first weeks were mostly placebo, which is fine by me.

But now it is in my system, and it makes me laugh and play and feel like myself again. It was especially great on a wonderfully fun trip to the outlet mall on Monday where I bought everything I wanted and felt zero remorse. Zero!

I know that is not the goal of the drug, but it felt great. What a fun side effect! I was so giddy about all the cute stuff I bought for Quinn that I could barely make it home with out pulling everyone out to look at it.

After 4 stores and a lot of sales, I ended up with 27 new items for $188.00, and I could barely make it to work today because I just wanted to stay home and dress Quinn up in her new clothes all day.

Quinn is not one for playing dress up, though. I get one outfit a day with her. I can barely wait until morning. What will she wear? So many options. Pictures to come.

I only get a few more weeks on the meds before I have to start weening so the baby won't have withdrawals. I have got to live it up. And I am.

Shopping anyone?

I love shopping. I love babies. I love Zoloft. Wahoo!

"Hey, look at that. I made a little Mormon!" (And so did Lindsay)

Two amazing things happened yesterday.

First, and most importantly, my Lindsay gave birth to Baby Bennett Roger Purdie (Benny.) I am off to go see them in a few minutes, and I can barely wait! Congratulations, Lindsay!

Also, Lindsay, I hate you ... for not taring at all and telling me you "feel great" this morning after delivering a nearly 9 lb baby just hours before. Love and and hate are very close, of course.

Secondly, and very special to me, it was my Mormon anniversary yesterday. I've been officially Mormon now 11 years, and as I told my big sister yesterday, I am going strong ... except for the maternity swearing, but I am only human, right?

For the first several years of celebrating my Mormon birthday, I would go to the Temple to renew my baptismal covenants (kind of.) But as we have been married for awhile now, we try to celebrate in different ways. Last year went to the Temple and did sealings for the first time. It was like getting married over and over again for an hour, and we loved it.

This year, I forgot to get a sitter, so the day was about to go by unnoticed, but instead we made a big night of it. We headed to SLC to meet up with Bridget, Ben and little Paige. Bridget was my very first Mormon friend, so I owe her a lot, and it was really cool to celebrate together. We didn't get all cheesy or anything, but it was nice to be together.

We met up at Temple Square in Salt Lake. Why not to do Mormon things to celebrate a Mormon day, right?




Tim, Quinn and I got there early and ran around the temple. Quinn loved it. I loved it too. I know she doesn't understand a whole lot about God yet, but it was a very peaceful feeling to see her enjoying her first visit to a place that has so much meaning to us as a family.




And I couldn't help but think, "Hey, look at that. I made a little Mormon!"

It is very comforting to know that this is one area of our lives that is always peaceful and agreed upon (within reason, of course.) Our marriage was created on this path, and our kids will get to feel that spiritual comfort and security forever... and hopefully go on to make little Mormons of their own some day. (Making Mormons is the best!)





(When you are out with Quinn, you have to stop for horses at all costs AND to say, "Hey, look ... a bus!" everytime one drives by. That is just our standard operating procedure. Here is our horse pics. We also saw a LOT of buses!)


After we met up with the Reeds, we went to the History of Church History and Art. We planned to go straight to the children's exhibit, but we probably could have skipped it because the girls loved everything at the museum so much. Mostly they loved running around and touching things they were not supposed to touch.


(The curator said they have to repaint Moroni's toes ALL the time because little Paiges and Quinns LOVE to touch him. Moroni is the name of the Angel who plays the trumpet at the top of most LDS Temples. He's important for lots of reasons, but mostly he helped preserve the Book of Mormon through history.)


(Looking at the Temple from inside the museum.)


My favorite was when tiny Paige climbed behind the bar of a big handcart and tried to push it. So funny!



And much like how I like to copy Bridget, Quinn had to give it a try. Look at our little modern pioneers!! (Large groups of Mormons used these handcarts to walk from the midwest to the Salt Lake Valley. They are a Mormon classic item.)




When we got to the exhibit, the girls wanted to stay in the first area, which was set up like a hospital baby nursery. It is supposed to represent the part of the song, "I am a Child of God" that says, "He has sent me here..." (like from heaven to earth...get it?) They loved dressing and feeding the babies, and putting them to sleep.






(She also fed herself with a baby's bottle...)

Quinn found some other Mormon things to do, too. She found a puzzle on the wall there you look at pictures of Mormons doing Mormon things. What could be more fun, right?









(Magnets help the family car get from the house to the church and the temple.... classic!)


She found the baby Jesus, too, but she preferred the baby sheep. (In the pic you can see her saying, "SHHHHHeep.")





And my personal favorite: She held on to this iron rod and walked on the "straight and narrow path" from Lehi's dream in the Book of Mormon. The path represents obedience to the gospel throughout your life. But she got bored quickly and had more fun jumping OFF the path. Should I be worried?




(Getting ready to jump!!!)


We ended the night with dinner at Tucci's in Salt Lake. The food was average, but the service was top notch and worth the money. They treated us like Kings and Queens, welcomed two 2-year-olds with open arms and gave us plenty of time and space to catch up and hang out.

Being Mormon is fun. You should try it.