1 year old.

Marley... June 8, 2008:


(no clue which one she is, though!)


August 8, 2008... first day at our house:

June 8, 2009... one year old:

Crazy how we went from this tiny little puppy to a huge dog in only one year.

(and crazy how all her sleek shiny black hair has turned gray. Are we really that stressful to live with?)

The kids were so excited that it was Marley's birthday!

We went to a pet store and they each picked out a new toy for her.

Then we went out to eat with Aunt Heather and Uncle Brian.

We celebrated while Marley slept in her kennel. :)

p.s. Thanks, Miss Amy and Miley for Marley's fun present! She was so excited when you came over to deliver it. I'm pretty sure you spoil our dog more than we do... which may explain why she likes you better than me. :)

salt mines.

For Christmas, we got my dad 4 tickets to the Underground Salt Mines. (He's kind of hard to buy for, I think.)
Last weekend, they came down, we left the kids with a babysitter, and we all ventured 650 feet below the ground...

We weren't feeling too sure about things when they show us the safety video about hard hats and rescue inhaler packs. (But apparently in 50 years, no one has ever had to use a rescue inhaler. Corey, of course, took this to mean that the rescue packs are 50 years old.)

Loading into the double decker elevator... total darkness... 650 feet... but it only took about 30 seconds.

All walls, ceilings and most of the floor is salt. (No drinks are allowed... you could melt holes in the floor. There are also several signs asking you to please not pick at the walls.)

We loaded onto a little train and Matt (our guide) and Wilbur (our driver) took us on a tour of the tunnels and mines. It really was pretty interesting.

Corey and Matt enjoyed giving each other a hard time for most of the ride.

I forget the significance of the ruler, but I took the picture because that was Wilbur... years and years ago when he worked at the mine.

We stopped at a big salt pile and everyone got to fill a bag with salt or choose a piece.

A 1930-something Chevy that was used in the mine. To get equipment down there, they either had to take it all apart and reassemble underground, or just attach it to the bottom of the elevator and lower it down the shaft.

All kinds of documents and important stuff is stored down here. Tons of Hollywood memorabilia and original films.

Cameron Diaz's suit from "Charlie's Angels."

Dean Cain's Superman costume from "Lois and Clark."

Batman.

Dorothy II from "Twister."

I guess you would be pretty safe from tornandos down here...

It really was pretty neat. There wasn't any "claustrophic feeling" at all (not that anyone of us were worried about that, right, Mom and Corey??)

baby names.

If you aren't familiar with children's books, this probably won't mean much to you.

But the joke at school was, if our baby was a girl...
we would name her Junie B.



If the baby was a boy...
we would name him Skippyjon.

We won't tell our real name until the baby is actually here, but if you hear us refer to the baby as Junie B... you know why. :)

baby sister.

The kids were both at Jessi's when we went for our sonogram.
Afterwards, when we went to pick them up, this is what greeted us in the driveway.
I was instructed to stand on the correct one!



We kept them in suspense for a few seconds before I jumped on GIRL.
Sophie starts shrieking and jumping around...
poor little Lawson had a different reaction, though.

His little arms hung at his sides, his chin dropped, his lower lip popped out and we had actual tears for a few minutes!

They had spent all day talking about how we will be excited and grateful for whatever God decides to give us... a brother or a sister. But he obviously really wanted a brother. He kept saying, "Why didn't you stand on BOY?"

He was even too sad to get in the picture with Sophie.


In the car he said, "But there's already so many girls! You and Sophie, Marley, Chloe and Zoe. Me and Daddy are the only boys."

He had cheered up by the time we were home, though, and was excited that he got to be the one to tell Miss Amy. He's even asking if the baby can still sleep in his room, even though she's a girl.

"I promise I'll be really quiet, Mommy."

sono says...

haircut.

My sassy little girl has been wanting a haircut.
She wanted it short. Like Gracie's, Olivia's, and Nayeli's.
Mommy wasn't too crazy about the idea.
It is cute short, but it had just gotten so, so long!
It was finally thickening up and was so pretty in a long blonde ponytail.

But it is just hair.
And it's her hair.
And it will grow.
(hopefully in time to put it in a bun for ballet again!)

So Thursday, on our "Mommy/Sophie day," we went next door to Miss Amy's.
I haven't taken any cute "after" pictures yet, but just to give you an idea...

Look at all those pretty blonde curls!

sass.

Mommy's alone day couldn't have had better timing.
Seriously.

Love my little girl to pieces. I really do.
She can be the sweetest, sweetest thing.
But I am so, so tired of the sass. Ugh.
And while I am grateful that she doesn't act this way anywhere else, I am so frustrated that she just saves it all for me!

She came and crawled in bed with me this morning and immediately... honestly, first words out out of her mouth is a sassy little comment about a disagreement we had over a swimsuit last night. Just how I wanted to start my morning.

She continues on with a few other comments regarding the swimsuit, her dress she picked out to wear, etc. Finally I said, "I hope you aren't going to be talking this way at Jessi's today."

Imagine a super sassy little voice here, saying, "You know I wouldn't talk like this at Jessi's."

Then WHY do you think it is okay to talk to me like this????
We had another long talk about respect and how I know that she would never talk to grown-ups this way at school, or church, or Jessi's or ballet... obviously she knows this is not an appropriate way to talk to grown-ups. Why do I not fall into that same category???

We've tried sticker charts, reward systems, vinegar in her mouth (the words coming out of your mouth need to be sweet, not nasty...) but I don't feel like things are getting any better. I'm clinging to the hope that she is getting this out of her system now and that her teenage years are going to be delightful. :)

Any advice or suggestions from other mothers of sassy daughters?