Big kid class

July 30, 2009
I knew the day would eventually come and at a few times wanted it come sooner, but now I'm not so sure about this whole "big kid class" thing. Pearl is getting the boot from the infant/toddler class to the preschool class on Monday! I was really sad this morning knowing that Pearl won't have Ms. Amanda as her teacher anymore. For a few months it was utter chaos with some previous teachers and I nearly pulled her out and quit my job because of how crazy it was with them there but then Ms. Amanda came! She is so patient and kind to all the kids. She treats them just like they were her own kid, which I know for a fact because her little boy is also in Pearl's class. I really don't know how she does it with eight busy toddlers and on top of that she is about 8 months pregnant! Pearl just loves Ms. Amanda or "Smanda" as she calls her and I've never once worried about Pearl when she's there. Pearl gives her hugs and kisses every morning and after a long weekend, is so excited to see her. I think I'm going to have a harder time adjusting to this whole big kid thing than Pearl is. It sort of feels like the first day I left her there as a tiny baby...wondering if anyone would figure out what her cries meant, her little routine, her personality and praying she would love her teachers and they'd love her. Well, you know what, everything turned out ok and now that we have to get to know new teachers and new "big kid" friends it will be ok again. Hopefully the transition won't be too bad though, after all now she gets her Aunt, Ms. Kimmy for a teacher!

New "old" friends

July 29, 2009

When Ben & Kamie moved we were tempted to go right along with them (even more so now after seeing their new house). We felt like they were our only friends in the ward and we had so much in common with them... both Kamie and I are working moms, both Jeff and Ben are crazed and loyal university fans (we're ok with them being the biggest Ute fans on the planet...the friendship would never have worked had they been Cougies), and we both had kids at the same time. Pearl and "KeKe" (aka McKinley) were born a week apart and it was so much fun having someone else in the neighborhood puking right along with me! We knew that Pearl would have at least one friend her age in our geezer ward. But then the fateful day came when we both realized our kids would never have a neighborhood full of other kids to play with so Ben and Kamie moved. Luckily it's only a few minutes away and yesterday we went over to see their new house and swim in their neighborhood pool. Pearl had a great time getting reintroduced to her new, er old, friends KeKe and Carson. She took a couple nose dives into the water, at which point I realized I needed to get her in swimming lessons ASAP. I'm not sure why I picked this picture...you can't tell but she was having a great time! I really wanted to get the three kids together but they just wouldn't cooperate and turn around at the same time. So, you get Pearl staring me down! I was kind of nervous because it had been quite awhile since we'd seen each other and I wasn't sure if Pearl was going to be as excited to see them as Jeff and I were. But with a pool full of toys, they hit it off. Carson even gave Pearl a big smooch! After dragging the kids out of the pool and chasing down the ice cream truck it was time to call it a night. Pearl cried and cried, even yelling "KeKe" as we strapped her in the carseat. I'm not sure who is more excited for our next playdate...me or Pearl!

Personal time

July 28, 2009
My Grandpa thinks all women need a "little personal time." you know for things like dusting, vacuuming, and doing the laundry. It's sort of a family joke now to take some personal time to basically cater to the men's every needs by keeping the house tidy and feeding them. So here I am taking my "personal time" by finishing the last two loads of laundry, trying to decide what to make Jeff for lunch tomorrow, and catching up on my blogging. I'm starting to think my "personal time" is what makes me crazy!

For the first time

July 27, 2009
I wanted to teach my eight-year-old neighbor a lesson about responsibility, and keep my flowers alive this year over the Pioneer Day weekend. We skip town because there is a massive influx of people who descend at the park across the street for holiday festivities every year. Basically this means we are prisoners in our own driveway and unless we hightail it out of town, can't go anywhere because of all the cars on the road. Alas, there is a price to pay for freedom though... we always come home to dead flowers. Since Jeff is our sprinkler system, they never get watered while we are gone and the heat usually fries them. So this year, I told Tanner I'd give him five bucks to keep my flowers alive. He was super excited at the prospect of earning some easy cash but when I told him I wouldn't pay him if I came home and they were all dead, the reality of the task at hand sunk in. Still the seal of youth prevailed and he started bragging to his older brother that he "might get five bucks!" The whole responsibility lesson must have worked though because I came home to find all my flowers still in bloom. Sadly, our gnome was the victim this year, of I'm guessing a watering mishap. Tanner still got the five bucks though but next year I'm going to have to up the requirements to keep our gnome from getting beheaded again.

Note to Self...

July 26, 2009
Note to self... when traveling with any member of my family to Orangeville, DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT under all circumstances drive a suburban on Highway 6!!! Three years ago, my dad and his sisters were in charge of the Peacock family reunion but for some reason my mom and siblings couldn't go. So, Jeff and I hopped a ride with my dad in the suburban to help with all the festivities. Things were going pretty smooth until we hit the top of the canyon and the suburban overheated, with billowing smoke coming forth from all tubes, pipes, and whatever else is under the hood of a car. It wouldn't have been so bad, after all we did have a trailer in tow loaded with food, had it not been for the 130+ degree heat! Luckily my cousins found us stranded there with no air conditioning, no cold water, and thinning patience...not to mention what I think was heat stroke that Jeff was starting to get. Then my Aunt and Uncle came by and thus began the six hour ordeal to try and figure out what was wrong with the stupid car and if we could fix it. We waited and waited for it to get cool enough to finish the drive to Orangeville and ended up pulling into camp after 11 pm (missing the wienie roast), a mere 10 hours behind schedule (ok, so I really don't remember how long it took to get there but it was triple the time it should have taken).

So...this year rolls around and everyone makes it safe and sound to the reunion. No breakdowns, no cursing Highway 6, and no overheating. We joke about it all weekend, pack up camp, and head out. Pretty soon we notice a white suburban and boat pulled off the side of the road. And my cousin's car (yes the same ones who rescued us). Not again!!! Apparently Nick's dad needs to invest in a new boat-towing vehicle because we were about to embark on the same journey we had three years prior. Thank goodness it wasn't blistering hot this time around! We wait and wait, then limp along the canyon stopping several times to let the suburban steam and sputter antifreeze until it cools down. Jeff entertained the entire family by fake barfing in front of my mom and I'm sure making inappropriate jokes to keep every one's spirits up. Pearl and I supported the family by staying out of the way with a movie and treats. By 11:30 pm we had made it out of the canyon, a good three or four hours later than anticipated. By the time we got home, Jeff and I were both so tired that we didn't unpack a single thing from the truck (another note to self... do not forget to take out a sippy cup with milk in it), well expect for Pearl, which is a first for us. I'm thinking next year we all need to invest in some new rides, or at least we need to buy a new, bigger, full size pickup so we can haul our family's sorry butts out of the canyon!

Heaven on Earth

July 25, 2009
I'm pretty sure I consumed over 12,357 calories this weekend at the reunion, 9,582 of which can be accounted for in these delicious cream puffs. My Aunt Beulah (yes, that's her real name...funny family story to that one too. My Great Grandma wanted to name her Elizabeth but there were two other babies born in town at the same time that were named Elizabeth. So my Great Grandpa decided to change her name to Beulah during her baby blessing! Had Jeff pulled this on me I would have stood up and shouted my objections right there in church!) makes these sinful treats every year and seriously, NOTHING and I mean NOTHING is more Peacock Reunion-esqe than these babies. The reunion just wouldn't be the same if we didn't have an entire bucket of sweet, creamy, homemade vanilla pudding to pour over a garbage sack of airy, buttery cream puffs. I swear every year I'll be good and only eat one but I just can't help it and end up having 4, or 6, or 15 of them before the weekend is over. Aunt Beulah reminds me so much of my own Grandma (her sister) who died almost six years ago now and looks just like my Grandma Peacock (their mom). I love seeing her at the reunion because it brings a flood of memories to mind of visiting Grandma Peacock and eating her delicious homemade pies and suckers. Even Aunt Beulah's mannerisms and the way she walks is the same as my Grandma and Great Grandma. Too bad my hips, butt, and stomach flab will be paying the price for my sentimental attachment to Aunt Beulah and her delectable treats.

Wienie Roast

July 24, 2009
I admit I'm not much of a camper. I hate the dirt. The bugs. The campfire smoke. And the fact that I can't turn a light on to see where my flashlight is to go pee in the middle of the night. Not to mention my crazy mothers-only-understand paranoia about Pearl falling in the fire or drowning or getting eaten by a bear. But there is one good thing about camping... the wienie roasts. The wienie roast has become a staple tradition to the Peacock Family reunion the past few years and every year it gets bigger and bigger. At first I think it was a way to keep the hungry "city relatives" (aka, us) out of the house until the real reunion started the next day and a venue for the men (really just my Grandpa and Great Uncle Paul) to have an excuse to revert to Boy Scouts again and experiment with diesel fuel, wooden pallets, and matches. It's now evolved into quite the feast with relatives coming from all over to enjoy the hot dogs, sausages, salads, chips, desserts, and even some cowboy singing. Even though my idea of camping is in a trailer with running water and a light switch, I sure can't pass up the chance to have a burned-to-a-crisp dog over an open flame!