Merry Christmas!

Right about now I wish I could still say Mele Kalikimaka! We are certainly having a white Christmas this year. In my old age, I have come to accept certain limitations, one of which is that I am incapable of sending out Christmas cards. However, with the miracle of blogging now in my life, I can post a cyber Christmas card and rid myself of any guilt I may have been carrying each time I opened the mailbox and found another card from a dear old friend.
We have had a very good year in the Schaefer household. We are quite happy in Logan and in our current situations, While all of our celebretory days in 2007 seemed to be jinxed, 2008 proved the opposite and we partied hardy all year long. Birthdays and holidays were filled with family, friends, food, and fun. We were able to see extended family on both sides many times this year. Because of this, our children are well aware that other people like them as much as we do. We're hoping for a repeat next year.
Michael has enjoyed and excelled in his job. We are so proud of him and his business partner Dave for building a business from scratch that can sustain us and allow me (and Dave's wife Lacie) to stay home with the kids. He loves what he does and hopes to never work for "the man" again. His internet based recruiting business has undergone some changes due to the economy, but they have rolled with the punches and we're still doing fine. For now, instead of recruiting truckers, they recruit health care workers. They named their new business Cebola (which means "onion" in Portugese) but they thought it sounded cool and medical-like-ish. Hopefully the healthcare industry will be more economy proof. Michael spends most of his spare time shopping. Oh, wait, that's not him. He spends most of his spare time with the family. He is an extremely fun and attentive husband and father. He's hoping in 2009 he'll be able to delve into past hobbies such as photography and sculpture.
Summer spends her days at home with the kids and most days she loves it. This year she got a bit better at juggling a productive life with two kids, although that is not to insinuate that she makes herself presentable daily. She likes to shop and gets a kick out of finding bargains. Its the only talent she's willing to develop. She has a handful of fabulous friends here in Logan, so many days are filled with them and their children. She continues to try to wish her parents out of Florida. So far its not working, but at least at the moment they have come to spend the holidays with her. She's still the same outspoken, quirky, all over the place Summer.
Avery is three and a half and growing up so fast. In fact, he just informed Grandma of that. "I getting really big. I don't touch boobs anymore." And its true. He doesn't. Usually. And he's potty trained. I should capitalize that. AVERY'S POTTY TRAINED. He was just ready, so he pretty much did it on his own. That's how he rolls. He's so sweet (especially when sugar is void in his system). He tells us many times a day: "I sure love you. And that makes you happy." He's right, it does. He keeps us laughing all day long with his boy-ness. He watches lots of Disney movies and acts out the parts. He also memorizes books to read to us. Avery is sooooo excited for Christmas. He wants fish candy, Christmas cookies, cake, and green soda more than anything. Oh, and a pink toilet.
Quincy is a bit of a freak of nature. I mean that in the nicest way. She's tiny for her 17 months, but speaks like a 2 year old. I can only begin to list the things she says: "I'm sick", "Avery's sad", "Summer!", "medicine", "I don't know", "Amen", "okay", "I want out", "I'm stuck", "I dunno", "Where's Daddy?", "make-up", ETC... . I remember being excited that Avery said "lights" at her age during the holidays. She is so independent, friendly, opinionated, and snuggly. She's already used the potty a couple times after telling us she had to go. She's pretty much amazing. I'll post more of an update on her when I make a Quincy 101.
We've had a fabulous and fun Christmas season filled with baking, shopping, tree decorating, gathering pine-cones in pj's, ugly-Christmas sweater work party, Grandparents, and stray cats. Fabulous. Fabulous. Fabulous. Except that we were supposed to go see my brother Shane and his family in Las Vegas, and due to a blizzard with impeccable timing, we remained in the land of Mormons.  Sad.  Grandma has helped out with every aspect of this busy holiday season, including reminding me to teach our children the Christmas story and its true meaning (via a nativity set and books). Its easy to get so busy that we forget our Savior. So I guess it was in the true Christmas spirit that Grandpa "adopted" stray cats for us. Grandpa started by putting out warm milk and leftovers for the cats. Then he decided to cut a door in a cardboard box and include a blanket. Then of course the box needed weather-proofed with plastic wrap. Grandpa then decided to purchase a heating light and a candle warmer to keep them warm in the snow. A stray kitty home wouldn't be complete without an outdoor thermometer to monitor how cold their home gets. So our kids sit and watch the cats from the safety of our sliding glass door. Its all very adorable.
We wish our many loved ones happiness, joy, peace, prosperity, and goodness, all of which are achieved through our Savior Jesus Christ. Happy Birthday-ish to Him!

Avery 101

If you're interested in your Schaefer BS degree, you need to become proficient in the most fabulous little boy ever:  Avery.  He's pretty much amazing and very unique.  He was born August 24, 2005 (a month early) with an alarmingly blue swollen face.  It wasn't cute.  He shocked Michael and I with his dark brown hair and long dark lashes.  Avery was opinionated from day one.  He was adamant about being held, snuggled, and nursed most of the day.  When I had to leave him as a baby, Michael would hold him with a worn shirt of mine and he would stop crying.  It seemed that when our friends came over, he was on his worst behavior (esp. if those friends were considering having children... Mike and Rozel).  He used to make some elongated goat bleat.  It was adorably strange, especially during the silent moments at church. People commented everyday on how beautiful he was.  Absolutely everyday.  Except they usually said "she" was gorgeous.  Cool.  He could have been a twin to the Gerber baby.  He has two crazy cowlicks bordering his Eddie Munster widow's peak.  It's endearing.  Avery was a baby with impeccable timing.  He would have a poop blowout right before church (regularly), he would belch in the middle of prayers (remember Schaefers?), and he would spit up (almost exclusively) on store floors.  He has the most infectious laugh I've ever heard to this day.  From an absurdly early age, Avery was mimicking the noises and movements of animals, even obscure ones like lemurs.  He performed on demand until he realized that's what we wanted.  He knew a lot of words in sign language too.  Avery's never been a good sleeper.  I nursed him to sleep for a good 2 years.  He slept in our bed longer than that.  We thought for a while that he might be "that" kid that wouldn't leave our side EVER.  Then he began to make friends and we became significantly less important.  His best buddies so far have been Dylan (in AZ), Jaden, Caleb, Sam, Wynn, and cousin Tyler.  He also thinks Caillou (the French Canadian cartoon bald boy) is a good friend of his.  Like his Dad, Avery is very loyal to the select few friends he chooses, yet despite the loyalty, peer pressure means nothing to him.  He does not waver in what he does and does not want.  He tells us all the time how much he loves his friends... and what they want for Christmas.  He also loves his grandparents on both sides very much and talks about then regularly.  He loves to snuggle with me and I love to snuggle back.  Its snuggletastic.  He still comes in our room in the night for just such a purpose.  I don't have the heart (or desire) to kick him out.  And he gives the best little boy puckered kisses.  He now goes to bed in his own room with a book and a prayer, although recently the idea of monsters have caused a hitch in our convenience.  We gave him "monster spray" (aka:  Febreze) and he about smoked us out of the house with it.  But there are no more monsters now.  Avery does things on his own time.  I've learned its better that way for all involved.  He crawled, walked, and weaned later than the average tike.  Potty training is following suit.  I think somehow he was born with a constitution of rights in his own little mind that he is certain he's entitled to.  Seeing as only certain things he won't be pushed or hassled on, I let him have his illusions of importance.  Like when he would not, could not go inside the house if Dad unlocked and opened the front door.  It had to be me.  Sure, sure Avery.  No problem.  Amazingly, Avery has been able to survive on Ramen, chicken nuggets, pancakes, hotdogs, apple juice, pb sandwiches, and the occasional round of fries.  I suppose I shouldn't forget the candy, cake, and cookies he's willing to choke down.   In fairness, he was quite allergic to dairy and eggs for the first couple years.  Now he won't touch the stuff and he absolutely refuses to try new things.  Soon he might have no choice because he has become "sugar sensitive."  A short time after consuming sugar and some "white" food, he goes certifiable.  He gets infuriated over anything and seems to feel his soul has been injured to the core.  In his words, "sugar makes me mean."  Its true.  We're on three days sugar free and he's had no fits of rage.  Amazing.  Avery has long been a poop-denier. He'd be pooping (OBVIOUSLY) in his diaper and we'd ask him if he was.  He'd say "NNNNOOOO" in a very strained voice with a red face.  Recently, he started to say, "Mom, I pooped, and that's the truf."  Its hilarious.  Avery enjoys being a dog or a dinosaur on occasion.  One time after nursery, his teacher told me he stayed under the table most of the day roaring at the other kids like a lion in a den.  Avery loves Quincy... but he's kinda mean to her.  She spoils his plans.  So he has been known to push her down then run himself to timeout or hide from me.  He is a sponge ready to learn.  He loves books, puzzles, cartoons, animals, Monster trucks, and most boy-ly things.  He's very smart and observant.  He sees and points to things that I just can't seem to find.  He loves to cook, and has an obsession with squirt bottles.  He says the funniest things, like one time after sugar intake, he was fuming over something irrational and yelled, "I don't wanna follow Jesus!!!"  Or on the sweet side of things, after eating out once, Quincy was walking the wrong way as we were leaving and Avery said, "But we will miss her so much!"  He's often very polite.  In his sweet squeaky toddler voice, he often exclaims, "OH!  Thanks MOM!"  Melts my heart.  We love Avery so very very much!    He's got us wrapped around his crooked little pinky.  (It really is crooked).  Class dismissed.

Michael 101

I love my husband and I feel like writing about him.  Did you know that he went to BYU Hawaii and graduated in art (3D sculpture).  He's pretty amazing at recreating the human form.  He gets up in the morning with the kids if I need to sleep.  He's a germ freak.  He won't pass the sacrament tray by the handle and he won't let his bare feet EVER touch the floor (shower floor included).  His sister even made him socks to fit his slippers (see pic above).  He is the best dad ever.  Within an hour of his arrival home, the kids are both laughing uncontrollably as he contrives some new game with them.  He can entertain any group of kids with only himself as a prop and no prep time.  It's weird.  He's fiercely loyal.  Once you're in good with him, you can do no wrong.  He wanted to be an actor for years.  He probably still does, but I've never seen him act.  He's currently very happy in the business world.  He never wants to work for a boss again.  He's very protective of me and the kids.  He has themed weeks.  Like this week was his snap-button shirt week.  Other weeks are no jeans, or only striped shirts, etc... .  He has a fabulous and trim physique.  He doesn't eat much.  He hates HOT showers.  He says he likes MY butt and I think he's serious.  MY big butt.  I think he has super powers cause I get pregnant if we stand too close.  He's proud of that.  He enjoys friends and thinks fondly of his glory bachelor days in Hawaii.  His friends there called him Diehard.  He loves to surprise me.  He doesn't do dishes or bathroom duty.  He takes forever to poop.  He's a softy with our kids.  He's not a fan of all kids.  His beard is red and only grows in patches.  He loves his parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, niece and nephew more than any man I've met.  That's how I knew he'd be such a good spouse.  He's kind of a genius at finding answers on the internet.  He educates himself via the internet everyday.  He seems to know all the current events.  He lets me go out on girl's night whenever I want to.  He likes to spend all his free time with me and the kids.  He's a light sleeper.  He likes to snuggle.  He won't share his nail clippers.  He can't live without chocolate.  He's generous with money when he can be.  He says every night that its my turn to say the prayer.  He doesn't read books.  He likes watching the Hills and America's Next Top Model with me.  He lets me dress him occasionally.  He hates to spend money on himself.  He supports me in all the goals I make.  He never ever yells.  He spits in the toilet every time he pees.  He lines even our toilet if he sits on it.  He's faithful to God, to me, and to the family.  He's a free spirit.  He's confident.  He's not a procrastinator anymore.  That's a miracle, by the way.  He puts a lot of hours into his church service.  His employees genuinely like him.  I think he's a "cool" boss.  He enjoys his work and his partner "an 11 out of 10."  He drives slow like an old man.  He's crazy-observant visually.  He tells me to "Look!" all the time.  He plans on being rich.  He's a light sleeper and a great snuggler.  Course over.  Michael 201 sometime in the future.  

Halloween '08

I know this is a bit late, but for anyone who knows me, that's typical.  After all the excitement leading up to Halloween, our camera needed batteries and we were out, so I stole these pics from Lacie.  We had a fabulous Halloween.  Avery was a dinosaur.  He wouldn't wear the hat and pretended to be a pirate instead when he met up with his friend Jaden as a pirate.  Quincy was an ADORABLE care bear.  I was Smurfette and Michael was a lucky troll.  We LOVE Halloween.  We worked so hard to get the costumes just right and THAT was an internet ride of a life.  I had been visiting my parent's in FL all the way until the 30th and I got into SLC around midnight.  By the way, that flight was also crazy BUT I only met "good" people who were soooooo nice and helpful.  Anyway, we got to our house after 2am and I was greeting by an incredibly CLEAN, HAUNTED house!  I was totally blown away that MY husband cleaned every inch of the house and then decorated those inches.  The vaulted ceiling was covered in spider webs.  The walls were covered with huge pumpkin pictures.  Some lights were replaced with black lights and others covered with plastic jack-o-lanterns.  Ghosts were hanging from the ceiling and fans and even one on a pulley in the bathroom.  He had created a HUGE jack-o-lantern out of lights hanging in the front window.  Turns out Michael had a LOT of time on his hands while I was gone.  It was INCREDIBLE!!!  Anyway, pictures did not do justice, but I'll post some later if I get a hold of my friend's camera.  On Halloween night, we met up with friends and went up and down Main Street shops, went to the mall, went to the church Trunk-or-Treat, and hit up one house.  Then we had friends over and ate soup, played games, and let the kids run wild hopped up on candy.  That night as Michael and I were laying in bed, Michael seemed sad and I asked why.  "It's over."  Remember that awful feeling as a kid when Christmas was over?  Poor Michael.  

SCARY!

Today I decided to take a bath with the kids.  I put on my bathing suit and Avery says, "Is that your swim suit?"  I respond, "It sure is.  It's so you don't try to touch my boobs."  He replies, "I don't wanna touch your boobs.  I wanna touch my boobs.  Remember?"  Right, right.  So we all dive in.  It was a good little water-filled time until I heard the scariest word you'll ever hear from a 1 year old say in a bathtub: "Poop" Quincy says in her sweet little voice.  I sat up in a panic.  Was it a declaration, or a fluke?  Was it inevitable, emminent, or a done deal?  Was Quincy thoughtful enough to warn me?  So I exit the tub as fast as possible and was quite relieved to see none of her doings.  Phew.  I dress her quickly and go to dress myself.  I return to her room to be greeted by a WHIFFFFF of you know what.  I just have to say that Quincy is brilliantly verbal.  Hallelujah for that!!!  I might think twice about another bathing retreat with the kids!

Re-Do!

So I posted some random "catch up" pics a couple days ago... on accident. I thought I had just started a draft. Soooo, let's try that again. Here's SOME pics from the last few months when we 

didn't have our computer working. I still need to steal more from other cameras and post post post. Enjoy these for now!  (Click on them to make them bigger.)

1. Isn't he GORGEOUS! Make-up kiping is not an unusual thing in this house.
2. Quincy seriously swiped butter out of the fridge and ran to hide while eating it. I've never seen her so happy. SICK!
3. Avery had a second birthday celebration this summer as we camped with Michael's family. A fabulous, familicious, spoilulous, partytastic time.
4. We visited Old Faithful and the rest of Yellowstone in that same trip. A must see in one's American life.
5. Avery was soooo scared of driving this thing until late in the summer. Then he and Quincy went cruisin' regularly. So cute!
6. Shane and his family vistited this summer. It was fast and furiously fabulous.  I love that I have this picture with him.  The cousins had a blast together.  
7.  Quincy also had a birthday party with Michael's family while camping.  They spoiled her with lovin' and gave her these royal jewels!

8.  With the cousins (Shelby and Tyler) Avery got in touch with his inner cowboy!

9.  Avery rode a pony at the Logan fair.  He was so proud and went on and on about how the pony "bumped him up and down."

10.  We went to Vernal with my Dad this summer.  At the local dinosaur museum, Avery became one with the exhibits.

11.  A pic outside of the cute cabin we camped in while visiting Yellowstone.

12.  A family pic by some crazy tree in Yellowstone Park.

BOOBs

People didn't believe me. They suggested tactics and books. I got funny looks and snide remarks. But I swore up and back down that my son was OBSESSED with boobs from the day he was born. I swore that if I weaned him he might jump off the ledge of his crib. So he kept nursing until I could reason with him and he was old enough to cave to major bribes. That translates to 2.75 years old. He does not try to nurse anymore. The begging and pleading and tears have stopped. I don't know if he remembers those years. But what I do know, is that he's still obsessed. He must get that from his Dad. They both think boobs have mystical powers. Multiple times a day, Avery tries to stick his hand down my shirt. He's getting pretty smart to figure out a way I'll let him cop a feel. "Mom, I just want to jump over it to touch your belly." "Mom, I just need to see if it has a boo-boo." "Mom, my hands are cold." He even tries to stick his FEET down my shirt on occasion after I reject his hand groping. Last night (since we've been sharing a bed at my parents' house), I woke up to him frantically feeling all over my back for my missing boobs.

He doesn't want to just feel them. He also wants to talk about them. "Mom, dinosaurs don't have boobs." "Grandma, are those your boobs? Does Sophie (the dog) have boobs? Belts don't have boobs." To a friend's Mom, Avery said, "Are those your boobs? I have little boobs." The list goes on and on and on.

His wife can thank me someday for his constant pestering. I hope he doesn't hit on his kindergarten teacher someday.

In case you're wondering, I do try to thwart his efforts and teach him proper etiquette. I talked to him about "private parts." Guess where that got me? He drops his drawers and grabs his junk and says, "Grandma, these are my private parts." Oh, what's a mom to do? Laugh, behind his back. That's what I do.