Gunn Control: Locked and Loaded

This passed weekend, we took off to St. George to participate in the first ever semi-annual Gunn softball tournament.

All six of the Gunn boys played softball, and between them and their old teammates, they were able to put together a pretty stellar team.  Mama Gunn felt that she had just about died and gone to heaven she was so thrilled.

Us wives felt that obviously they would sweep any tournament that came their way.

Turns out the Gunn boys aren't the only ones who know how to play.

Seven games later, not one of them was without road rash and muscles turned jell-o.  Several of them had about had it up to here with their overly-supportive and too-involved wives, but we can adjust our volume for future tournaments.

They may not have won the tournament, but the boys did great and had a blast.

 

Mama Gunn could not stop smiling.  All her boys on ONE team?!

 

Can you guess why Mark chose number 5?  Well now Mac has yet ANOTHER favorite player with that number; Albert Pujols and Daddoo.

 

Oh and I can't forget the other AWESOME thing about this tournament:  Mac loved his cousins. 

I figured I'd take him to a couple games; Mac loves to watch baseball, especially if his dad is the one playing.  Believe it or not, my three year old pays attention and shouts instructions at the players.  Belle had a great time digging through all that red dirt and chasing down a possible lover ... none other than the great Braun Hurst.  Her bashful closed-mouth smile never left her face when the 11 month old stud was in view.

But seven games is a lot.  So after a couple I took him and Belen back to Josh and Heidi's, with the rest of the cousins.  Belle crashed for a monster nap, and Mac didn't even notice I left.

Between games I debated going home to check on him, but decided to check out the Women's Expo with Ashlee.  (Where I got the greatest Maxi skirt and bubble necklace and saw the Sister Wives.  Nuts-o.)  I'm very relieved about the choice I made; when I finally did make it back, I saw this:

And when I told him I missed him, he just waved and kept playing.  Didn't even hug me.

So we all went out to dinner.  It was beyond awesome.

And Sunday was wonderful.  It is so fun to get together with this family ... especially with the hubs around.  No doubt he loves these people; he made a real comback as favorite uncle that weekend.

And is currently swaying towards getting back to Utah.

But ... there's still loads of time to decide, so don't anyone go making any plans around us.

No matter what happens, you can bet that us California Gunns are in for the new Semi-Annual "Gunn Control: Locked and Loaded" softball tournaments.  Thank you Josh and Heidi for putting this together!

EQ Halloween Party

I look forward to this Halloween party every year.  It is beyond fantastic.

I even booked a babysitter weeks in advance, anticipating this fun-filled night of friends, food, and hilarious costumes.

With doula clients and visitors and other things keeping me going full speed, I did not get around to figuring out costumes until the day before. 

It's a bit of a process.

I ask my darling husband what he wants to be, and he usually shrugs and says whatever I'd like.  So then I start suggesting ideas, all of which he turns down.

So we brain storm and brain storm all sorts of couples ... all of which Mark turns down.

The man is picky when it comes to costumes.

But I'm not complaining about that, because it always works in our favor.  If we ever went for my first choice in costume, we would never get near the response we do.

Behold, "Most Original Costume" award, third year in a row!

L-7 Weanie!

Before I go ahead and spill the beans, let me throw a few one-liners your way:

"I said shut up!  I've got a lot of things on my mind."
"Lotioning and oiling ... lotioning and oiling ... I just can't take it any more!"
"What he did was sneaky, rotten, and low.  And cool.  He'd kissed a woman.  He'd kissed her long, and good."

Give up?  We are Michael "Squints" Palladorus and Wendy Peffercorn from "Sandlot".

The costume required some explaining, but 90% of the informed immediately laughed and were whisked back to their childhood.  Who didn't love Sandlot?

The rest of the party was great.  I brought homemade Winger's Sticky Fingers with homemade ranch.  And bones.

We ate, played games, gave out prizes, and had a grand old time.

Unfortunately Mac was not nearly as cooporative for our babysitter as he has been for previous ones ... so we called it a night a little earlier than I would've liked.

Still.  I did not come home disappointed.

Hoppin' With Jesus

It was one of those times when you feel that little click in the back of your parental conscience:  now this is one of those teaching moments.

Mac had discovered a cricket.  One of those nasty little things I used to feed to my pet Bearded Dragon.  But he was clueless to their nastiness, and thrilled by their ability to hop.  Especially when touched.

"Wook, Mom!  Buggie hoppin so high!  Woah!"  And he proceded to touch the bug, laugh, hop after it, and touch it again.  The game lasted about thirty seconds before I heard an, "Oops!" followed by a quiet, "Oh, no."

I walked over to investigate, and Mac was staring at the bug.  "Mom, hims leggie fallin' down."  Sure enough, the thing was in pieces. 

"Oh honey, he's dead."

Mac stared at me for a moment, and then looked back at the bug.  "Raaawr!" He said.  No reaction from the bug.  "Raaaaaaawr!"  He said louder.  My motherly heart did a little flip flop as I recognized the same rawr he uses to wake Dad up when he "dies" while wrestling.

"Buddy," I told him, "He can't wake up any more.  He is just gone."

He started to cry.

I happened to notice my camera on the couch right next to him as I moved in to comfort him ... so ... I snapped a picture.

I scrambled to think of a three-year-old version of my life-after-death beliefs, and merely ended up saying, "Don't worry.  The buggie can't hop with us any more, but he's hoppin with Jesus and Grandpa Gunn."

I re-said that same thing in a couple of different ways, and he seemed to feel a little better.  We decided to take the buggie outside to rest behind the palm tree and gave him a fond farewell.

Later that day, when we walked by the picture of Christ hanging upstairs, Mac said, "There's Jesus.  Jesus and the buggie goin hoppin together."

And you know what, I'll bet they are.

Spooky Festivities

Halloween is awesome.

Right?

I'm trying and trying to convince Mac of this.

Belle is down for it, she loves to shake the googly-eyed pumpkins we put together.  She pats the skull, grins at costumes, and about gives herself a hernia trying to get at any candy that may be lying around.

Mac loves all these things as well.  He loved decorating the mini pumpkins we brought back from Nana and Bumpa's garden.  He loves the "pixie dust punkins" I made.  He is constantly rearranging the little collection we have out front.

He loved the crafty girl's party we had during the Priesthood session of conference. 

 

And he loves watching Halloween version of his favorite shows, especially the Dora Halloween DVD I was suckered into buying.

Finally, he loves candy.

That all points to one great holiday, right?

Well all is fine and good until we start talking about costumes.  "I not be that, Mom.  I just MacAlister Raymond Gunn.  I don't like Halloween."

We've still got a few tricks up our sleeve, so hopefully we can convince him of the greatness of this holiday before it finally arrives.

But as for the rest of our family, we have been thoroughly enjoying ourselves.  Watching AMC's "Walking Dead" might have to count as our scary movie of the year, I don't think I can handle much more.  Yuck.  But everything else has been a blast.  I've always loved festivities of any kind, but there is no doubt the fun-ness has shot through the roof since we've had kids. 

Family life is kind of awesome, you know.

Pretend Play

For Mac's third birthday, we made a point to find neat little toys that could spark some imagination. 

I think there is still hope!

Maybe I was jumping the gun a little by saying Mac had no imagination, I mean for heaven sakes, the poor little guy was only two.  And while he definitely still prefers practical play and logic, we are seeing some hints of imagination.

Jake, Sculley, and Bucky take on the Incredible Hulk often. 

He snorts while building his piggie tower, and then says, "Now you be the Angry Bird, Mom," and we'll toss our stuffed angry bird till we get those darn piggies.

He makes sound effects while playing with his front end loaders, and today he and Mark set up all his big trucks in front of the iPad to watch the front end loader music videos.

And you'd best be on your guard, no grumpies allowed here.  If you get too crabby, you could start to turn a little green ... we sure don't want you to turn into the Hulk!  If that happens, we call upon Captain America to come and make you be nice again.  And he's tough stuff.

He'll even pretend to be somebody else ... but only if you're playing baseball.  He's got all the Angel's starting players and numbers memorized, and if you pitch it to him, he'll tap the plate and say:  "Number 27 ... Mike Trout!" and swing for the fence.

But if baseball isn't in session, don't you dare try to make him be anything but MacAlister Raymond Gunn, thank you very much.

Battle Scars

Baseball can be dangerous.  I myself am finally playing softball again (woo, woo!), and am currently sporting some road rash on my leg and a bruised wrist.  It's almost to be expected if you're playing.

But being a spectator can be trouble as well.

Sweet baby Belle is learning this early. 

She recieved her first black eye the other day, a la MacAlister.

Mac and Mark were outside hittin' it, as they do every day when Mark gets home from work, and Belle ventured out to crawl around in the toys.  Mark attempted to stay in front of her himself or at least push Mac's little bike in between her and the ball (p.s. Mac's no longer allowed to play baseball in the house ... that kid can do some damage), but Miss Belen peeked her big curly head out at exactly the wrong time.

Poor thing.

Some snuggling, a pretzel, and a tiny toy car made everything better, however, and of course she hasn't learned her lesson.

She still wants to be outside to play with the boys.

Oh that baseball just steals your heart and keeps it forever ... I think she's already lost to it.

Spaceship

Did you know that the spaceship "Endeavor" was recently retired?  To L.A., of course.

Click on the pic if you'd like more newsy details.

 NASA made a big deal of shuttling the space shuttle across the US to its final resting home, and the journey was broadcast all over every single station out here.  It was so fun to see something on the news besides the usual break-ins/shootings/fires/etc etc etc ...

So, while Belle was napping and according to Mr. Newscaster the timing should be perfect, Mac and I hustled out to the street to watch for it to fly over us.

We waited.  And waited.

So we pulled out a blanket and "Mickey Game" (which is "Go Fish" and he's VERY good at it).

We waited some more.  Belle woke up from her nap, and Mark showed up for his lunch break.  And still we hung around outside in hopes to catch a glimpse of a real live spaceship.

Finally we went back in to check the news ... and it was already landing at LAX.

Rats.

Well, we were outside breathing the same air as the Endeavor.  And Mac dominated me at Go Fish.

It was a good morning.

Brotherly Love

Lately, this is what brotherly love looks like at our house:

 

All he wants to do is wrestle her.

She used to think it was funny ... but she's definitely gotten over it.  She's already starting to flinch when he comes near her.

But, she gets him back.  She plays with and thoroughly chews on all of his most prized possessions. 

Nothing is sacred any more.
And it breaks Mac's heart.

Belen at 10 Months

My word, is she ten months already?

Ah, make it stop!

I am loving this age.  Belen has just the right amount of independance.

She still likes to be held, but just long enough to see what I'm doing.  Then she's off on some adventure or another.

She has all the signs of a runner, but isn't quick enough on her hand and knees to be any trouble yet.

Once she's up though, we'll be in for it.  She knows when she's doing something she's not supposed to, and she'll usually giggle and hurry to get it done before she is stopped.  For example, there are countless little date seeds that have fallen from our palm trees out back.  They are the exact size of her esophogus.  I am constantly pulling them out of her mouth.  Now she'll pick one up, look at me, get a giant grin, and hurridly shovel it in.  She laughs as I pull it out.

This everything-in-her-mouth thing hasn't been all bad, though.  This girl does not turn down food.  Veggies, fruits, grains, meats, junk food ... all of it.  Especially if you're eating it, you had darn well better give her some too.  She'll gasp, flap her arms, and snag your fork right out of your mouth.

She is quick to hug, quick to snuggle, and quick to squeal.  Bedtime is adorable; she grabs her blanket and buries her face into it and the crook of my neck.  She'll usually hum and then start bouncing in my arms.  I give her one verse of "Heavenly Father Loves Me", and then it's down in the crib.  She likes to shake the crib for a while before falling asleep, but fall asleep she does.

Belen not only snuggles her blanket, but also dollies and Captain America.  She loves Mac's little car toy and can do it all herself.

She has six teeth, and it looks like two more are getting close on the bottom.  She crawls everywhere and walks along things a little ... but she definitely prefers hands.  She will walk to the moon and back if she's got a firm grip on both your hands.  She stands on her own, but never for long.  (Not even long enough to get a picture ... sigh.)

Belle is dramatic as can be.  When she is tired, she wails.  When Mac is funny, she squeals.  When he takes something from her (or lately, simply makes a face at her), she screams in despair.  She babbles all the time -- "Da-da-da-da" and "Ba-ba-ba-ba" most often -- and loves to copy.  She kisses, blows zerbits, and clicks her tongue if you will.  She will pick your teeth, your nose, and your ear lobes all day long.

I love her, I love her, I love her.  This baby girl pushes my buttons and melts my heart every day.  I find myself missing her chubby hands when I go to bed at night.  (That feeling typically disappears once morning comes.)

I am priveleged to be her Momma and be able to raise her in my little home.  So glad you are in our family, baby girl!

Mac's 3rd Birthday

Well, the timing of Mac's birthday was perfect.

Mark is just busy enough that we have money to spare.

So naturally, we've been itching to spend some on the kids.

We went a little crazy with his birthday.

The day of was a Thursday.  He woke up to streamers, one present, and "Happy Birthday letters".  Everything was a surprise.  Example: 

Me:  "Here Mac, you wanted some pretzels?"
Mac:  "Wow, surprise pretzels for me!
 

We played plants vs. zombies, listened to truck songs, dug outside, and ate whatever we wanted.  I didn't do a lick of cleaning or anything related.

We built forts and declared war; his new nerf gun vs. a rubber-band shooter.  It was quite entertaining.

All this Thursday fun resulted in a Friday mad-dash to prep for the party.  I was in way over my head and had movies on all day to attempt to keep the kids occupied while I masterpieced it up.

It didn't turn out perfect.

But it was sure fun.

The theme was "Reptile Cove", which was the result of my attempt to tie in lizards and pirates.  See, Mark has a patient who does reptile birthday parties.  She offered a trade, and we jumped on it.  Later I remembered that Mac has no feelings for reptiles one way or another.  Oops.  I tried to really talk up a snake cake, but of course that resulted in him not wanting it even more.  Just a "Jake and the Neverland Pirates cake, Mom." 

So we compromised.

Got the idea here, added a few personal touches.  Just a couple of bundt cakes all cut up, with an ikea cup for the nose and a fruit-by-the-foot for the tongue.  Kinda in love with it.

By 2 a.m., all our preparations were complete.  I finished up the favors, decorations, and party favors, and Mark had tied a jillion water balloons.  It was then that I learned it would be 106 degrees for the party ... and of course we were having it at a park.

Eh.

Mark worked that morning of course, but Janae-bless-her-heart thought of me and helped me get set up.

Mac was so excited.  He hollered at every person that came.  "Wook, see?  My party is here!"

Here's the birthday crew; minus my darling little Utah cousins who came a little after we took this picture ... they timed their Disneyland trip just right.

After a lunch of hotdogs and watermelon (Mac's favs), Mark took those who wanted to play baseball.  Mac loved it.  Until he got tagged out.

We then broke out the water balloons.  Took Mark almost an entire movie to blow them up ... they were gone in three minutes.

I attempted to get the kids to play one of Mac's favorite FHE games, "Mary, Mary, Where Are You?" (A game Dad brought back from his Fijian mission.)  Didn't go as planned, but still entertaining.

Mac just chilled on the sidelines for this one.

He perked back up once the pinata was brought out, however.

And just like last year, it was up to Luke to actually break the pinata.  (Of course, starting out with a nerf bat was a terrible idea.)

Then came the real entertainment.  Brianna and her adorable family showed up with their army of snakes, reptiles, and spiders.

She has a birthday chair, where the birthday boy gets to sit and hold everything first.

Mac prefered sitting in the back, on Mark's lap.

Mac barely touched anything, but he didn't cringe or run at all.  Indifferent?  I guess.  Either way, it was awesome and I would highly suggest you hire Brianna yourself and bring her to your party.  (But three years old may be a bit young to fully enjoy it.)

It was then on to the snake cake, which, as it turns out, Mac and his friends had been poking their fingers in already.  Sneaky.

And finally, presents. 

Three hours of 100 + degrees of humid heat and pressure to take the spotlight was really starting to wear on Mac; his reactions at all the kids' little gifts were less than energetic.

But sweatiness and shyness aside, it was a spectacular day.

Love you, Bub.  So glad you're our best and biggest boy.