My Name is Gwen

And I’m really obsessed with my Mom’s Turbie Twist (super-absorbent hair towel). “Turbie Twist holds your hair better than a towel,” you know.

And since you can totally jump on a bed while wearing one (AND IT WON’T FALL OFF!), I’m hoping that I’ll be getting one of my own. SOON.

Cabin and/or Spring Fever

I have mixed emotions about the Spring. For the most part, I really love it. It is my second favorite season (after Fall). But this year, Spring is being a big, fat tease. Now, I don’t expect everyday to be warm and perfect this time of year. I’m fully aware that I live in Utah and not Arizona or California. But the snow last weekend was really a bit much. I don’t mind occasional snow storms, but it needs to get a move-on and melt already!

ANYWAY. My problem right now is: 1. The snow and cold keep us indoors. 2. We have a small house. And when I say small, I mean SMALL (even though I just wrote it in all caps there, it just wouldn’t have had the same effect if I had written, SMALL).

But I guess there’s no use in sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves because we can’t enjoy nice weather everyday. Finger painting (hand painting for Gwen) is our new official snow-and-cold-weather indoor activity.

 

The Outtakes

When I was taking Olive’s three month pictures, Gwen was really wanting in on the action.

 

My Name is Gwen

And I really love my little sister.

 

One of the Silliest Girls in all of Happy Valley

Gwen makes me laugh on a daily basis.  She also makes me crazy with her lack of interest in being potty trained, but that’s a whole other post. The funny thing about Gwen, is that she actually knows that she is making us laugh and therefore, hams it up.  I think she got this from my brother, James, who used to do the same thing.  And because I love my little brother so much, it makes me love this about Gwen even more!

So, yesterday she came running into the living room, rather enthusiastically, to show Dave and I the picture she had just drawn. According to Gwen, this is a picture of her when she’s scared of the dark.

I think that her depiction is funny in and of itself, but the weird thing about it is that she actually makes that same expression.

 

The Pickiest Eater on the Planet

Allow me to introduce Gwen, The Pickiest Eater on the Planet.

Ok, I might be exaggerating, but only a little bit.  Her pickiness really is off the charts. For example, last night, she turned up her nose at pizza.

PIZZA!

She acted like we were force feeding her brussel sprouts. “No pizza for dinner! NO PIZZA FOR DINNER!”

Even though she is SUPER picky, she does eat oatmeal for breakfast nearly every morning.

How do we get her to eat oatmeal, you ask?

Sprinkles.

Yep, sprinkles. One morning in a desperate attempt to get her to eat anything in our kitchen, Dave disguised her bowl of boring ol’ oatmeal with a dash of decorative sugar.

While I recognize the fact that we are making her healthy breakfast not so healthy, I’d like you to know that we barely put any on at all. I’d say there’s maybe 1/4 of a teaspoon.

If that.

What can I say? Desperate times call for desperate measures.

our gwenie girl turned two

A few facts about Gwen.

She is obsessed with shoes.





I realize that it is not unique for a toddler to be interested in shoes. However, she not only is constantly wearing someone else’s shoes around the house but when she finds a pair that belongs to you, she’ll bring them to you and insist that you put them on. Even if you already have some on. She is determined with this task. And there’s no explaining to her that you already have some on. If you refuse to participate there is usually some high decibel screams that will ensue.

She also likes to accesorize.





She has been known her mark wherever she goes.

She’s creative when it comes to needing a boost.

She often gets into some tight spots.

She’s got the hang of Photo Booth.

She is a Daddy’s girl, through and through.

She knows how to get dressed up for a party. And while everyone is busy singing, sneaks a taste.

She’s also figured out how to get two different birthday parties. And therefore, two cakes.


She aspires to be like her big sister, “Nez.” Even if the backpack dwarfs her.

She always remembers to say hello to Maisy when we are at Target. She never forgets and her greeting often lasts for aisles and aisles and grows louder and louder the farther we get. She is such a good friend to Maisy.

We couldn’t be more in love with this little blithe spirit,

who also is pretty tenacious at times.

We are so blessed to have her in our family.

remember halloween?

Okay Mom, here you are. Only three weeks after Halloween, I’m finally posting the pictures of the girls in their costumes. I thought I should post about it before Thanksgiving comes and goes.

So Inez was a witch. A nice witch though and she was always careful that everyone knew that. I mean, it was pink and black. How could a mean witch wear pink?

Inez tried her best to keep Gwen on the step so that I could get a picture of the two of them.

She is going, going…

gone. No one can hold back our little punkin. Or put our baby in a corner.

Here’s our walk with eleven jack-o-lanterns (I carved the last two that afternoon). This is what it looked like through a mask or if you were running up to the door.

Inez with her loot.

Beyond excitement over a hard strawberry candy with some sort of juicy filling. I don’t get it.

Our evening consisted of attending our ward’s trunk-or-treat, and then driving down for a quick visit with the in-laws. On our way home we decided to hit a row of houses because I wanted her to experience going door to door (very different than going trunk to trunk). It was fun, but cold. At one house she was upset when she came back to me at the end of the driveway because some man said she was going to “freeze to death” and she didn’t want to die. If you know our girl, you know that she is very dramatic and takes things literally. The other day when it was taking her FOR.EVER. to form a sentence I told her to just “spit it out.” Disaster. Any progress in our conversation became completely unraveled.

Back to Halloween. She was so upset at the thought of death from freezing, that I went back to the door and let that old man have a piece of my mind. It went something kind of like this:

Me: Hey old man! Why don’t you just hand the candy out to the kids and hold back on your suttle criticism about my parenting!? So what if my child is without a jacket on Halloween? What’s the point of wearing a jacket if it just covers up your costume?

OldMan: Um, did you grow up in a warm climate?

Me: Yes, California.

OldMan: Well why don’t you just go back! We don’t need you snotty Californians here clogging up our highways and driving the housing prices up! In fact, why don’t you just go trick-or-treating back in California? Leave your jackets here in Utah and don’t let the state line hit you on your way out!

Me: Oooooh!!!! Reeses peanut butter cups! Can I have one?

And scene.

Okay, so maybe some of that didn’t happen. But I think I should be a writer for a soap opera, don’t you? Maybe I can even get a job since the writers are on strike. That is still happening, right? Please end soon, for our sakes, because 30 Rock must go on.

I guess in the meantime I won’t quit my day job which consists of bundling up my children in the 30 degree weather (to avoid more loaded remarks made by the elderly) and making Christmas skirts for them (my children, not the elderly).

It doesn’t pay great (my day job or the elderly I suspect). Well it doesn’t pay at all, but there are always perks like eating Reeses peanut butter cups from their Halloween stash (my children, not the elderly).

for you mom

There was a little girl and she had a little curl,
right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good she was very, very good.
But when she was bad, she was horrid.

My Mom told me that nursery rhyme about a million times when I was little but I didn’t relate to it until I had girls of my own.

Well this little girl doesn’t have that little curl…at least not in the middle of her forehead.

But the little curls in the back are so cute (except for when I have to comb out her baby baby dreads).

And unfortunately she is learning how to be horrid.

You were right Mom. She is very determined.

rumbly feet and black eyes

So today Inez and I snuggled under the covers in my bed and we read through The Friend magazine (I always feel like I’m being a really good mom when we read from it). We started talking about the Holy Ghost when she suddenly remembered to tell me, “Earlier when I was watching tv, there was a rumbling in my feet and it was the Holy Ghost.” She was SO excited.

Then later she was “playing” the piano and from upstairs I heard her call me twice. She didn’t hear me yell back that I’d be right there because then I heard her call out, “Heavenly Father!” After another pause she yelled, “God!” When I came back downstairs she said, “I’m waiting for Heavenly Father” as she held a few heavy piano books in place so that they wouldn’t fall. We had a discussion earlier about saying Heavenly Father instead of God because it is more reverent. In her moment of need, she decided to go against what she had just been taught. But it was funny.

Later I found her looking at an old Halloween issue of a Martha Stewart Kids magazine.

She pulled this little subscription card out and excitedly yelled, “Mom! I found an email for you!”

Probably one of the funniest things that she does right now is that upon entering whatever room I’m in she proudly announces, “Mom, I didn’t hide anything,” or “I didn’t squish Gwen” or “I didn’t (fill in the blank with whatever she did do)”. I’m glad I can have a sense of humor about some of the stuff that she does or she might end up with a black eye (okay, not really but I need a segue here).

Speaking of black eyes…

This little girl (who also enjoys w.w. smoothies) fell last week when I wasn’t looking.

I think she fell from her favorite little chair onto a toy to get this shiner. It swelled and bruised immediately. Let me just say that it is not easy to hold an ice pack on a toddler’s face. Even if it’s a kitty cat ice pack.

(Here’s a little snot for good measure)
I’m not surprised that she fell because I am constantly catching her pulling stunts like this.

In fact the very next day after getting her black eye, she fell again and slightly bruised her other eye and the top of her nose.

I’m sure the neighbors can hear her when she goes from zero to red-in-the-face in one second, throws her head back and wails.

But don’t worry about me. If someone calls child services for the crying and black eyes, they’ll only find us snuggled up, reading The Friend.