the bartle bulletin

Rarely does a day go by when I don't wish I could stretch out in a quiet room with my head under the covers. If I try really hard, I can almost feel the cool sheets on my toes, feel my head sinking into the down pillow, feel the weight of the comforter around me, feel my heavy lids closing over bloodshot eyes...

And then someone chucks a ball across the room and jolts me back to my nap-free existence.

I'm mostly used to my rough-and-tumble life with little boys. I try to embrace the chaos, to expect adventure. Occasionally I can even laugh when ridiculous things happen.

This is me trying to laugh.

So today the kids and I took our ambitious selves on a walk/run/ride to Wedgewood Park. Some playgroup friends were meeting there and I didn't have time to exercise AND shower beforehand, so this was my compromise. It was a two-mile jaunt (one way), but our travels were safe and successful. Two other moms and their kids showed up. Good times for all.

Thirty minutes in, Zachary took off his socks and shoes, climbed a retaining wall made of railroad ties, and then fell about ten feet to the ground. During his descent, his foot caught on a sliver of wood and sliced open the skin. I was glad that this dime-sized skin flap on the ball of his foot was his only injury after such a fall.

One of the moms busted out a first aid kit from her car, so Zach had antibiotic gel and a Band-Aid on his wound in no time. His foot was tender, but he could gimp along just fine, and I was pretty sure his injury wouldn't require stitches. The greater problem, however, was getting home. A two-mile bike ride wasn't an option for Zach. No one had room enough for all of us (and our bikes and stroller) in their cars. So I started making phone calls to see who could come rescue us.

Garry was the first to respond. He picked up my keys at the park and loaded bikes into his trunk. At home, he got Lexi's car seat out of the house and then drove the van to the park. (Note: the driver's door to the van was wide open when he arrived at home. We were both glad that jumping a dead battery was not a chapter in this particular tale.) Once back at the park, we loaded up the double jogger and four hot and sweaty kids into the van. Garry drove us home, then took his car back to work.

Then we had lunch, which can only be compared to feeding a den of starving, wild lions. Except maybe with more screaming involved.

While cleaning Zach's wound in the tub later on, I was glad not to be a nurse who has to do such things for a living. He kicked and screamed and cried and moaned. The poor kid -- I'm sure it hurt as I was trying to scrape all the grit off his skin. Only after I threatened him with a trip to the hospital did he comply.

And now that Gavin is sleeping for a while, I want to crawl in bed myself. Little Miss isn't buying it, and the boys who are supposed to be having some quiet time keep bursting out of their bedroom without shouted demands, threats, and tears. I'm such a mean Mom!

On days like this, when my stamina wanes, I remember that we have survived worse.

Like the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day that ended in throwing away three pairs of pants.

Like the series of unfortunate events that DID include a dead van battery.

Like the ridiculous experience at the DMV.

These are the days of our lives, people. And they are tiring!

My son, my youngest one, is running me ragged.

Yesterday, he colored all over himself and his clothes with a marker. (It was washable.)

Also yesterday, he spilled a box of cereal down the stairs and, with his brothers, crunched it all in to the carpet. (Where was I? In the shower, I think.)

Also yesterday, the vacuum wasn't working, so cereal bits traveled throughout the house in our shoes. (Not exactly Gavin's fault, but still.)

Also yesterday, he inverted a bowl of spaghetti on his booster tray and the floor and the table and himself. (He didn't eat one bite.)

Also yesterday, he dumped a glass of water on himself. (This was just before his nap. He went to bed in a diaper.)

Also yesterday, he slept for one hour in the afternoon. Only one hour. (A month ago he took two naps daily, for a total of four hours of sleep.)

Also yesterday, he woke up from his nap and launched a ninety-minute scream-fest. (Probably because he didn't sleep long enough.)

This boy, this adorably chubby, delightfully affectionate, perfectly wonderful little boy...is one and a half years old. And this, too, shall pass.

Today is Painting Day Two.

Garry got up early and finished rolling the second coat of the main color. Here's a sneak peek.


Up next (possibly tonight, if I can get my act together and prep the area): painting below the chair rail. Instead of flat and pale, it will become a richer, darker, olive green.

This is my job today. Party!

Yesterday the kids and I drove to the Air Force Academy to scope out the B-52 Campground, which is the venue for the ward camp-out in July. (Yep, I'm in charge. Heaven help me!) Although the site has been reserved since February, I had never laid eyes on it, and I didn't want the day of the event to be the first time. Plus I needed to add driving directions to a flier. So I packed up the kids and off we went.

Zachary and Tyler had other plans for their day and were oh-so-grumpy about this little excursion. They could not believe how mean I was for ruining a perfectly good summer morning. Bah, humbug!

Amazingly, when we arrived, the boys changed their tune. They thought driving on dirt roads was pretty cool. And so were the wildflowers and tall trees. They wanted to run and climb and use the port-a-potties. [Ick.]

But the best part of the outing was stopping to see the B-52 airplane for which the campground is named.

After a teeny tiny history lesson about this incredible aircraft (see below)...

The pace of life has slowed considerably for me, although I'm still awfully tired at the end of each day. Perhaps that's because the pace of life for my children hasn't changed at all. In fact, I think they've revved up.

My sleep-deprived eyes are still trying to see the good, and to glean lessons from our everyday adventures. To that end, here are some things I am learning.

I am learning not to cry over spilled milk and other meal-related mishaps.

I am learning that having a scattered brain means we are often late.

I am learning that despite my best efforts, lots of crying happens -- for all of us.

I am learning that brotherly tenderness makes my heart melt.

I am learning that mopping the floor is a gift to myself.

I am learning that it's going to be a long time before the scale is my friend again.

I am learning that blooming flowers make me happy (oh, wait -- I already knew that).

I am learning that starting something hard is often easier than just thinking about it.

I am learning that girls aren't the only ones who like to dress up.

I am learning that dressing up my girl isn't likely to get old any time soon.

I am learning that my primary connection to rational adults is electronic, and that I couldn't survive without it.

I am learning that relaxing my rules sometimes keeps the peace.

I am learning...still learning...and hopefully getting a little smarter.

I'm flying solo with my four today. I think I might puke.

This isn't because I'm nervous...I just think that Tyler passed on his stomach flu from the weekend. Do I have a fever? I can't tell.

Garry let me sleep in a little after Lexi woke up, since my milk supply wasn't needed just then. I floated in and out of consciousness while Garry managed breakfast. Gavin had several bouts of hysteria over random things. I'm not the only one who is off today.

When I finally got up, I went downstairs to check on Zachary and Tyler. Zach had made a sign that said, "TOYS FOR SALE --->" Next to the sign was a big pile of toys that the boys no longer want. They were planning to earn a wad of cash to buy something new and fabulous. I'm not sure what to think about that.

Then I overheard this conversation:
Z: Ewww....don't pick your nose and eat it!
T: I didn't! I picked my nose and wiped it.

The carpet cleaner guy is coming in 45 minutes. Have I showered? Nope. Is my bed made? Nope. But as I am nursing the babe and typing this one-handed, I am smiling to myself. I have a feeling this will be a day to remember!

Garry's mom, known as Grandma (or "Gaga") to our kids, spent the week at our house after our other family members went home. She was delightful company and led the boys on many adventures.

One such adventure was the Western Museum of Mining and Industry. We all learned about mining and machinery and rocks and minerals. The boys completed treasure hunts for objects and information around the museum, panned for gold, and dressed up in mining gear. Gavin participated where he could, and Lexi was quite literally along for the ride (all cozy in her wrap). My favorite part was exploring the grounds around the museum, where we saw giant machines and mills and played in the tall grass and trees. The boys toured an under-construction haunted house and met some donkeys, too. I plotted to have our next family pictures taken by a rustic barn. {Click pictures to enlarge.}

Certain things weren't pictured, like attending t-ball games, going out to dinner (while Garry and I enjoyed an anniversary date), a very lengthy visit to the library, long bedtime stories, pancake and waffle breakfasts (which I rarely provide), and special treats. Grandma really outdid herself in providing entertainment for her grandsons!

On her last day in Colorado, Garry, Gavin, and Zachary took Grandma to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. I stayed home with Lexi and Tyler because Tyler was puking. With Garry as photographer, there are more pictures of Grandma in action! I was especially amused by the crazy poses, and the token skunk photo in my honor. (I'm sure you've all heard my ridiculous skunk story...)

Gavin recently reached the ripe old age of 18 months. For us, this is a significant milestone because he is now old enough to attend the nursery class at church! But more than that, we want to celebrate the sweet, fun, smart, and active boy that recently gave up his throne as baby of the household.


Physical stats:
We'll find out Tuesday at his check-up, but we suspect Gavin is pushing 30 pounds. His chubby cheeks, double chin, and round belly make us smile. He is one sturdy kid! He wears a size 6 1/2 shoe and size 18-24 months clothing. Gavin's bright blue eyes and platinum blonde hair generate comments wherever we go ("Is he really yours?").

Gavin is extremely coordinated. He can climb, scale, and mount anything, including bar stools, the counter, the piano, bookshelves, and play structures. He has excellent balance. He catches air when he jumps. He can open doors (safety covers and all), outsmart child latches and locks, unscrew lids (even the toothpaste tube), uncap markers and pens. He almost always runs instead of walks.

Personality traits:
Gavin is a very happy boy. He is sweet and affectionate. His tender side became especially prominent when Lexi joined the family. He needs extra hugs and kisses, but he doles them out as well. I really love Gavin's hugs. He wraps both arms around my neck (or leg) and squeezes! Hugs are often accompanied by contended sighs. He kisses by pressing his cheek up against another person's cheek.


Gavin can be fiesty, too, and has a shrill scream that threatens to shatter glass (thank Tyler for teaching him that one!). The scream usually comes out when he wants something he can't have -- like snacks at all hours of the day. When he is feeling neglected, he hits. However, he is obviously penitent after doing something wrong. He cries, "Mommy, Mommy" in such a way that it almost sounds like "Sorry! Sorry!"

After Lexi came along, Gavin's separation anxiety ramped up. Being "exiled" in the church nursery class resulted in almost two hours of screaming on his first day. Bummer! We praise his patient teacher for waiting out the drama with him. After a couple weeks of jealousy, Gavin has developed a soft spot for his little sister. He loves to fetch things for her, especially her binky.


Funny things
Gavin continues his obsession with Russell the bear, his near-constant companion. He also loves to buckle things, especially the straps on his kitchen booster, the stroller, and his car seat. He has to buckle these after getting out of them!

Gavin loves wearing other people's shoes, and also making people wear their own shoes if he finds some lying around. He loves my sunglasses. He loves all things silky, and has been known to wear my slip like a necklace for hours at a time. In general he is just a cuddle bug -- blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, and beds are his favorite things.


We love to play peek-a-boo with Gavin. When we ask him where something is (including his face during this game), he cocks his head to one side and says "Hm?" with a sliding pitch. Sometimes he throws his hands up, too. It is hilarious.


We love our little Gavin. What a fun member of the family!

Pardon me dear Bulletin readers while I hijack this blog for one short post. Fear not, your regularly scheduled (and ever-so-witty/entertaining) blog author will resume her duties shortly.

Sweetheart, this post is just for you. In celebration of the first 11 years of our eternal companionship, I want to offer you all of my

(blood)

(sweat)

(and tears)

along with a several gallons of paint from these guys


in shades from this family (I believe this is the general color family you have in mind, but the choice is yours)


to finish painting the upstairs kitchen/living room/dining room complex. Not that I didn't know already, but I hope this speaks your love language loud and clear. Know that I love you more than all the painting in the world can say, but let me say this anyway. Happy Anniversary!

Love,

g — your "knight in dirty car"

Once upon a time, in a land called Happy Valley, lived a young college student named Heidi. She studied too much, played too little, and took life far too seriously (at least according to the five roommates she lived with in a tiny apartment south of BYU campus). At the tender age of 18, she pledged to quit dating silly boys and and instead wrote letters to a dozen of her missionary friends. A few of them seemed like potential marriage material...after she had a Masters degree.

Down one floor and around the corner lived a carefree lad named Garry. He was seven months off an Ecuador mission, and having worked hard for several months at home had returned to Happy Valley to get an education. Garry was enrolled in BYU classes, but he also had great dating ambitions. With money to burn and fun in his heart, he could not have been more different than Heidi.

One day in January their paths crossed. Garry and his roommates had been paired with Heidi and her roommates for the purpose of forming a Family Home Evening group. The group met exactly once that semester, but once was enough. Heidi's roommate, Rochelle, fell in love with Garry at first sight.

While Rochelle oohed and aahed over the blue shirt that made Garry's eyes sparkle, Heidi buried her nose in an accounting book. Heidi spent hours in the library as Rochelle talked nonstop about Garry's walk and his laugh and his gorgeous hair. When Garry asked Rochelle on a date, Heidi helped her celebrate and pick an outfit. When Garry asked Rochelle out again the next week, Heidi listened happily as Rochelle gushed. Then there was a third date. Most of Sacrament Meeting every week was now spent eying Garry and his roommates. Heidi was glad not to be dating; she had more time to practice the piano in the bowels of the HFAC.

Along came February. One day Rochelle announced that Garry and his roommates were taking a road trip to Las Vegas and everyone was invited. Rochelle thought this little trip could seal the deal with her favorite boy, but she didn't want to go alone. Heidi was getting a little sick of school and snow; the desert sunshine sounded like a fabulous reprieve. Before she knew it, she and Rochelle were packed into Garry's car with two other girls for a long weekend of fun and games. Rochelle called shotgun and got it. Heidi studied all the way to Nevada.

But once in Logandale, the tiny speck of a town Garry called home during college breaks, fortunes shifted for these three unsuspecting students. It might have been the huge, crazy group of friends, or the sunshine, or the hike in the Valley of Fire.

In the last two days we Bartles have been rather adventurous and exploratory. Before this week, we have been quite lame Coloradans and have experienced precious little of the beauty that surrounds us, but we have now gone a few leaps in the right direction.

To be fair (or to offer excuses), Garry and I spent last summer doing yard projects and house projects and resting from our intensive labors. And I spent the fall throwing up. Then came the cold winter, more puking, and general laziness. And then I spent the spring being huge and confined to bed.

So now that summer is here again, and because we've had family in town, we have released ourselves to enjoy The Great Outdoors. And now that we've enjoyed it, we don't want to come back inside!

Yesterday's adventures were in Garden of the Gods. Notes to self: This gorgeous place is super close to home and offers many boy-friendly climbing attractions, all free of charge! Many walks and picnics should be had here in the future. This could be doable with one adult assigned to the Littles and one to the Bigs.

Tyler kicked off the t-ball season in style last night. Decked out in his Astros uniform, Ty was super excited to embark on this little adventure. He's been watching his brother from the sidelines for too long!

Dearest Lexi,

Today was your special day. You received a name and a blessing, a special priesthood ordinance to commemorate your new life on this earth. As this blessing fell upon you, you were surrounded by a strong and righteous circle of men, many of them the priesthood holders you will look to as you grow up.

The words of your blessing, which a dear friend recorded for us, were absolutely beautiful. We are so grateful to have such a lovely daughter of God in our family. We look forward to watching you grow and blossom.

You wore a simple white dress and tiny booties knit by your Great-Grandma Dent. You were wrapped in a beautiful crocheted blanket -- the same one I snuggled in during my blessing thirty years ago. Aunt Angie made your satin bow.


We were all blessed with the company of our extended family for your blessing. Our visitors this weekend included Grandma and Grandpa Bartle, Grandma Great, Granny and Gramps, Aunt Holly, Uncle Eric, Aunt Angie, Uncle Myron, Chloe, and Olivia. We had anticipated everyone but Eric -- he surprised us on Sunday morning! You are one lucky girl to have so much adoring family.


Welcome to our family, little girl! You have blessed our lives already.

Love,

Mom

Garry spent last week at home and we sure enjoyed having him here. In addition to letting me nap, taking the big boys to the movies and on errands, and coaching Zach's t-ball team in the evenings, Garry was in project mode all week. He tackled things that have been on his "honey-do" list for months. What fun!

I'm serious about the fun part -- at least for me. I once read a great book about the "five love languages" that people use to communicate. Garry and I each took the survey that determined how we best receive messages of love. Not surprisingly, we respond to different cues. I landed solidly in the "acts of service" camp. Since then Garry has had a heightened awareness that doing something nice for me (rather than saying sweet things, buying me presents, holding my hand, or even spending time with me) is the best way to say, "I love you." I'd much rather he fix a clogged drain than buy me jewelry. I realize this makes me weird, but it's the truth!

Whether professing his love was his motivation or not, Garry spent hours on various projects around the house this week. Some were big and some were small, but they all made me smile!

This is the project that took the most time: fashioning doors for the TV cabinet he built a few months ago. Some serious craftsmanship went into them! They look amazing, don't you think?


Garry also fixed the door knob on our front door. I'm not sure what he did to it, exactly, but the fact that the door opens and closes with so little effort is something we appreciate many times a day. We didn't realize how annoying the door had become until it worked properly again.


Another little thing: covering the hole that was made during our home improvement adventure (courtesy of this problem) of November 2008. Don't worry; we've only had a hole in the side of our house for six months.


We've been talking about painting the door that leads from our house to the garage since Christmas, when we visited a neighbor's house with the same floor plan. Their door in the same spot is bright red...and I fell in love. (Aside from the fun color, there wasn't a grimy fingerprint to be seen.) After Garry spray-painted a twin-size headboard for me recently, we thought the same espresso-colored paint would look great on the door. So Garry tackled that project this weekend. I love how he suspended the door from the garage door track -- genius.


And finally, the crown jewel of Garry's labors: a yellow wall. I have been carrying a paint swatch in my purse for a long time but didn't quite imagine how much I'd love the color on the wall. I took the Littles out of the house for a couple of hours so Garry could paint, and when I came home and saw it I literally clapped and cheered!


So Garry, here's my public shout-out: You're wonderful and amazing and I love you. Thank you for all your hard work. I'm one happy woman.