First Day of School

I just had a sad, sad realization.

I have only been blogging about once a month.
That is just pitiful.
Can I just tell you how busy life is with 5 little ones?
I am loving every moment of our adventures, I just need to take more time to write them down for posterity's sake.
So here it is, one for the record books.



The first day of school is tricky for us home schoolers.
The thing is, we never really stopped doing school this Summer, therefore we did not really have a first day of school, so to speak.



But then everyone started posting pictures of their kids' first days of school on facebook and I felt like we needed something to mark the turning of a new leaf for our school as well.



(By the way, you all have beautiful children and I Love, Love, Love seeing their pictures and how they are growing.)



I decided we needed our very own "back to school night".
We started with a fancy dinner, we even pulled out the place mats and Fine China.



Doodle thought that since our dinner was so fancy she needed to wear her fanciest outfit.
The boys on the other hand... well at least their clothes were clean!



At dinner we presented our theme for the school year.
Alma 37:35
"O, remember, my son, and learn wisdom in thy youth; yea, learn in thy youth to keep the commandments of God."
We posted it on the wall, and now we all have it memorized.



Mr Bird then took us into the family room where he gave each of his children a special Blessing to start out this new chapter of learning and adventures.



Then it was out to the back yard to enjoy the cool evening and a chocolate slushy.
Plus they had to endure mom taking a million photos.



Looks to me like they would do anything for a chocolate slushy!
I know I would!
We are so excited to start this new school year and to continue our fun learning adventures!

Practically Perfect in Every Way

I keep thinking my little Miss Mae is just so darn perfect.
I want to keep her just like this forever.
But then, when my babies are 9 months old, I think that's the perfect age, then when they turn 1 I am in love, head over heals.
18 month olds are my favorite things in the world, too.
And don't get me started on 2 year olds, be still my heart.
I guess what I'm saying is that I just love every phase of babyhood.
I really don't know what I'm going to do when M&M is not a baby anymore, I don't think Mr Bird is going for yet another baby.
I feel like I always need to have a baby around.
The sweetness they bring to my day is truly a treasure.
OK, I'll stop being so corney now and get on with this "baby brag board" post.
Here it is, my top 10 reasons I am loving this 4 month old stage.

1. The sheer cuteness. Need I say more. Just look at that face, it melts my heart every time I look at it.

2. The joy. Whenever anyone sees her (even complete strangers) they instantly smile, which in turn triggers huge smiles and coos from the baby. Joy, it's all she knows.

3. She can't talk back yet. The other children could take a lesson from her.

4. She is not mobile yet. Well, mostly. Lately when I put her on her tummy on a blanket she inch worms her way off. Or she rolls to the other side of the room. But she's not crawling or walking and getting into drawers or cupboards or crayons or scissors yet.

5. She's sleeping 9-10 hours at night. This makes one very happy (and well rested) mama!

6. She giggles and belly laughs and kicks her little feet at the kids as soon as she sees them coming close.

7. She is the perfect size. Not so little that she needs fed every 2 hours around the clock, but big enough to play with the kids. Doodle loves to make her blanket nests in the laundry hampers and get her all snugly and warm until she falls asleep.

8. The baby kisses. You know, the ones that are open mouth, suction cupped to your cheek or chin, full of drool with baby hands holding fistfuls of hair in each hand, death gripped to your face/head. Help me Rhonda!

9. Naps. She still naps enough during the day so that I can get things done around the house and pay attention to my other kids.

10. Those fingers. When she gets those two middle fingers in her mouth it looks like she's signing, "I love you!"

We all agree, this little girl is perfection personified!

My Mountains

I happen to be one lucky mama.
My cute nephew, Justin is my personal mountain trail tour guide.
Every Tuesday morning we meet in some obscure (usually gravel) parking lot and he hauls (quite literally) me and my 5 children up some gorgeous mountain trail.
Sometimes it's just too much for the 3 year old.

We end up overlooking the valley that we call home.
One of those tiny dots down below is actually my house.
We drag along anyone else who is brave enough to join the throng.

I've learned a thing or two about myself during these sweaty excursions.
I grew up in California (well, that I already knew).
The nearest mountains to our home looked like tiny pencil drawings on the horizon.
Some days you could not see them at all through the smog.
It literally took hours to drive to them.
While we visited them a few times in the winter to play in the snow, I did not spend much time in their majesty.
As a young single adult, I told myself I'd never live in Utah.



I loved my California sun.
Plus, I figured there were plenty of Mormons in Utah, I was better off where I was.
And I was happy about my decision.
Until I wasn't.

I moved to Utah in the Spring of 2000, supposedly for college.
The first time I walked out the front door and saw the huge looming mountains just overhead, I was stunned and it was love at first sight.
For weeks I could not help being in awe of their beauty every time I stepped outside.
I had no intentions of staying in Utah forever, however.
Until I met Mr Bird.
One of the first things we did after we were married was to go up in the mountains on a camping trip where we canoed to the back of some unheard of place, packed our stuff into a deserted spot and slept under the stars all by ourselves.
Not a hiker or a camper to be seen.
It was beautiful.
My love for these mountains has only gotten stronger each Summer season I spend in them.
They are part of me now.
They are part of my children and my family and my home.

I love to look out the kitchen window and see the mountains ablaze in the setting sun.
I love to hear my children's laughter with their cousins as we plug along another beautiful mountain hike.
I love to take off my hot, stinky shoes and dip my toes in the cool mountain streams.
I love to watch the sun come up behind the tallest peak.
I love to look below and for just a moment take a break from the worries and stresses of this thing called life, and just breath.

I love spending time with so many awesome family members and friends.
I love how the leaves on the aspens twinkle in the early morning light.
I love saving our yummy snacks to eat at the very tippy top.
I love the exercise we get from climbing nature's stair master.
I love the first hike of the season, when the winter snow has melted and the world is just turning green again.
When we finally reach the top, I love the soothing spray of the waterfall on my hot face.

I love the millions and millions of wild flowers.
Their beauty and wonder is etched into my heart.
I have learned that I need these mountains.
They keep me focused.
They help me to know my creator as I see his hand in their majesty.
I've learned that this place is my home.
These mountains are my mountains.
I've learned that no matter how hard the climb, it's always worth it once you get to the top.
I've learned that when I'm breathing the air up there, it feels like I'm finally home.

The Ninja Warrior Think

"BEANO! It's time for morning jobs!"
"BEANO! Beano! Has anyone seen Beano?!?"
"Mom, he's in the kitchen."
Upon entering the kitchen this is what I see.
Again I try to tell him it's time to start our morning jobs.
Again, I am met with silence.
I run and find the camera, turn it on, dead batteries.
I go find new batteries, hurry and put them in the slot, making sure they're not upside down.
I run back into the kitchen worried he has broken his concentration and is on to some other mischief (anything but morning jobs).
But nope, I hurry and turn the camera on and snap a picture of my little Dalai Lama.
Still he sits in perfect silence, unfazed by the click of the camera.
I think, maybe I should enjoy the silence and not be so quick to hurry him along.
He is, after all, meditating. That can't be bad, right?
After a few more moments he suddenly looks up at me with those amazing blue eyes.
"What were you doing, kiddo?"
"I was just doing the Ninja warrior think. Braden told me that's how Ninja warriors think."
Then I start thinking, oh great, all I need in this house is a Ninja Warrior...

Hiiiiiii~YA!

The Pit of My Stomach

A few years ago Mr Bird got a motorcycle.
I honestly can not tell you how many years it's been now, they all seem to just blur together lately.
Could be 3, could be 6, it's all the same to me.
Right around the time he got the thing we took out a massive life insurance policy for him.
We had been meaning to do it for some time, but for some reason getting the bike pushed that item of business to the top of our priority list.
When I was younger my best friend's dad had a motorcycle and he would take turns giving us rides on the back of his bike.
It was fun when I was a kid.
Now that I have 5 little people who rely on me for practically their every breath, I don't enjoy it so much anymore.
Plus a few years ago I saw a motorcycle wreck on the freeway just behind our house.
Needless to say I have become a Nervous Nelly.
At least as far as Mr Bird and his chopper are concerned.
He has a 40 mile commute to work in Salt Lake and the days when he rides his motorcycle in I am a bundle of nerves until I know he's safe at his desk.
Earlier this week was no different.
He left for work at his usual time, it was a bright sunny day, perfect for the bike.
He hopped on and our kids waved to him from the living room window until he was out of sight, like they always do.
About 30 minutes later my cell rang.
I glanced at the clock and quickly realized Mr Bird would be in the middle of his commute.
I looked at the number on my cell and it was not one that I knew.
Immediately my heart started to beat faster.
I flipped my phone open and said a shaky, "hello..."
The voice on the other end was deep as he asked, "Is this the residence of Jay Weaver?"
Now my heart was beating at triple speed, I just wanted to know how bad the accident had been.
I could barely manage a half hearted, "yes" while leaving the room so the kids would not have to hear the conversation.
My stomach dropped and I suddenly felt nauseous.
The man on the other end of the line continued to say he was calling for the heating and air conditioning company and was confirming our appointment for our AC tune up later that day.
Suddenly I noticed my whole face was smiling.
Yes, of course, the air conditioner.
We finished our conversation and I hung up the phone to realize I was shaky and sweaty and sick to my stomach and I could not sit down.
I had enough nervous energy to power all the lights on Las Vegas Boulevard pumping through my veins.
My heart felt like I had consumed about a million cups of coffee, I could not get it to stop racing.
It was quite some time before I could stomach the rest of my breakfast.
A few minutes later I called Mr Birds phone, I caught him just as he had stopped his bike at work.
He had arrived safe and sound, like he always does.
*knock on wood*

Broken

In January Mr Bird started a work out called Crossfit.
Some friends of ours opened a new Crossfit gym near our house and it did not take too much arm twisting to get Mr Bird there.
He was immediately hooked.
He would come home from the work outs and be sore for days, not able to bend or walk straight.
Since then Mr Bird has dropped a few pounds and pants sizes.
He claims he's in the best shape of his life.
If he has to miss a workout during the week he is beyond bummed.
I was still Prego with Little M&M when he started this new hobby.
Every day he would tell me of the brutal work outs and then proceed to tell me that I needed to try it once I had the baby.
My first thought was, you want me to do what?
After having my 5th child?
You must be out of your mind.
So I have slowly been trying to wrap my head around this crossfit idea.
A couple months ago we went to the open house of the gym.
While we were there a little boy was trying to lift a bar that the weights go on (I don't know the name of it).
I was standing right next to him in open toe sandals when it came crashing to the floor, landing square on my pinkie toe.
It bled and throbbed and swelled.
It did not take too long to realize that the toe was broken.
Fast forward a few weeks and Mr Bird convinced me to do a WOD (work out of the day) at home with him.
I decided to oblige.
Big mistake.
Half way through the work out my back seized up and I could not move (something about bad form, yadda, yadda).
It took weeks to get any sort of mobility back.
Picking up Little M&M from her crib at night to feed her was sheer torture.
So far I did not have a very pleasant experience with this thing called Crossfit.
Yesterday I decided to wake up my poor postpartum self and try again.
I am ready to have my abs back.
For the most part, it went well and I enjoyed the work out.
(They take it easy on newcomers and give us a work out just for weaklings like myself and call it the newbie WOD)
However, I made a shocking discovery during the warm up.
I was trying to do a movement called hollow rocks.
It requires lying on the ground on your back and holding your legs up in the air at about a 45 degree angle.
Then you lift your head off the ground with your arms raised over your head and rock back and forth from your bum to your back.
As I tried to get into position I was alarmed at my body.
Try as I may I could not lift my legs off the ground (while keeping them extended).
They felt as if they were glued to the carpet.
I could lift one at a time, but not both.
It was such a weird sensation to have my brain telling my legs to move a certain way and get absolutely no response.
My lower abs are not just broken, they seem to be totally MIA.
Gone somewhere along with my sanity.
I am still alarmed that I could not even get through the warm up without totally tanking.
Now I have a new resolve.
I WILL be able to lift my legs, both at the same time, off the ground if it kills me.
This is my new quest.
Small as it may seem I have a goal:
To mend my broken abs.

Enjoy this video about Crossfit:

My Little M&M

Way back when Little M&M was 2 weeks old (seems like an eternity ago) our good friend Matt of Barr photography came and did a fun photo shoot with our newest little Weaver.

We had to capture her babyness before it's all gone.

How much longer will I be able to cradle her in the palm of my hands?
Not long enough, I'm afraid.

I think naked babies are so scrumptious.

Just look at those perfect little lips, couldn't you just eat them up?

And the cheeks! Heaven help me!

She's our little Angel, what more can I say?