Yeast Cleanse

The Gunns are one of those crazy natural health families.  Have you seen this?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fh0NLQJfAYU

It's not too far from the truth.

One of the things they like to do is a periodic yeast and sugar cleanse.  For three weeks you don't eat either of those two things, and take a pill that kills the yeast already in your body.

Mark and I gave it a go when we were newlyweds, and it was absolute misery.  I couldn't make much besides raman noodles, and I think we lasted almost a week before we threw in the towel.

But now, five years down the road, I just felt like we needed to give it another go.  I was ready for a reset after nursing (almost done) and babyness, and it just took that sugar overdose at Halloween to make me decide to go for it.  The timing felt right; we should be finishing up just in time for Thanksgiving. So I dropped the no-sugar bomb on Mark, and he took it like a champ.  We started the next day.

We're a week into it now; made it farther than we ever have before!

And you know, it's really not that bad.

It just requires reading labels, planning, and cooking from SCRATCH. 

Here's my meals for the three weeks:

1. Roasted Chkn, mashed potatoes, salad
2. Oatmeal pancakes (yogurt and applesauce instead of syrup)
3. Lemon Cilantro Chicken Scallopini
4. Burritos
5. Natchitoches Meat Pies
6. Chicken Tortilla Soup
7. Biscuits and Gravy
8. Grilled Chicken, potatoes, broccoli
9. Shrimp Linguini
10. Rice Bowls
11. Chicken Enchiladas
12. Baked Salmon
13. Chicken Stroganoff
14. Spaghetti Squash Pasta
15. Avocado Chicken Parm
16. Tomato Basil Soup

And then we'll do a couple do-overs at the end.  For breakfast it's scrambled eggs with Herdez salsa or meuslix, and lunch is typically leftovers.

The hard part is always snacks, but we've been living off of bananas and peanut butter, chips and guacamole, nuts, hummus, and fruit. 

And you know, I do feel great. Really.

But I'll level with you here, life is too short to live like this all the time.

Maybe we'll shoot for once a year ... or five.  Still, I do definitely think it's a great thing to do; especially because being strict for three weeks shows you all sorts of little tips and tricks to make your family eating a little more fresh during the rest of the year.

Give it a shot.

The Forgotten Holiday

The other day we walked into Khol's and Mac said, "Wook, Mom!  Christmas here already!  It's not Christmas, crazy store.  It's just Thanksgiving."

That's right, crazy stores.  It's Thanksgiving!  In a town where the stores -- not the weather -- tell you what season it is, this is a real problem.

Thanksgiving occasionally gets a shelf between all the Christmas decor, but I sure couldn't find anything to decorate with. 

Luckily I have Pinterest now, so I am evolving into a real do-it-your-self-er.

And here we have Macky Zoolander modeling his creation: the GMO turkey.
He really likes Halloween.
And he's three years old now, so everything comes in threes these days.

It's been really fun to have this little Thanksgiving tree up.  For Family Home Evening we at down and wrote a few things we were thankful for on the leaves and glued them up.  Mark's included "job" and "baseball".  Mine were "new car" and "sourdough bread".  Mac's were "Albert Pujols", "Caterpillars", and "Halloween".  We decided Belle's were definitely "necklaces", "pigtails", and "milk". 

Since then, Mac has asked several times to add more leaves to the tree.  So we have.  This little favorite things tree is getting quite full.

Hm, our lives must be great.

In my enthusiasm for this forgotten holiday, I have volunteered myself to cook a Thanksgiving turkey for those of us orphans out here who can't get back to our families.

My word ... I hope these people still want to be our friends. 

If you have any turkey tips, please let me know.

Miss Belen Meets a Growth Spurt

Just look at that adorable face.

And that sweet giant curly noggin.

My little miss is going to be turning one in couple of weeks ... and she must  know it.  I feel like the last month she has all of a sudden gotten so smart.

I think I finally noticed it one day as we were making our morning trek out to watch the massive green garbage truck grunt along through our back alley.  Mac had hollored at me to hurry back there so we could wave to the garbage man, and this time Belle about blew a gasket trying to get to it as well.  So I lugged both of them up to our fence and Belle craned her neck to watch the garbage truck come around.  I could see the veins on that tiny neck of hers. 

And then, as that kind smiling driver came into view, waving as he always does, Belle waved back.

Now she waves at every big vehicle on the road.  Incluing construction machinery, semi trucks, and lawn mowers.

She has picked up waving at people too, and loves sending Dadoo off in the mornings.

 

She has figured out how to be held; if her whining doesn't work, she switches to a more demanding gravel-voiced shout ... one eerily similar to Mac's when he's being demanding.  (She soaks up his actions like a sponge.)

She knows the word "clap".  She and Mac love to listen to the "clapping song" (which is a kid's song with people clapping along on the CD) in the car, and the second Mac asks for it she starts clapping. 

She has also said her first words.  It's still up to debate as to which came first, but there is no doubt that she says both "Mom" and "Dad" when she sees us.  She specifically says "Momomomom" as she desperately crawls across the room, looking to be snuggled into serenity.  She usually says "Dad" a lot as she's sitting next to him at the dinner table, attempting to wipe mashed potatoes on his arm.

Mac gets frustrated that she can't say his name.  "No sis, I not Dadadad!  I'm just MacAlister Raymond Gunn!"  After that she'll typically yell back at him.  And again ... she matches his tone almost exactly.  He doesn't take that very well, and I usually have to step in at that point.  Sigh.

 She also loves jewelry.  Necklaces seem to be her favorite.  She bows her head when I hold one up to her, and after I slide it over those soft brown curls she grins and claps and generally chews on it.  She'll then take it off and put it on all by herself.  I also get asked a lot how I keep bows in her hair ... but so far ... she loves them.  Again, I'll get the head bow and applause once its in.  Sure hope that lasts.

And as far as everything else she likes to shove into her mouth, she's still a foodie.  In fact, yesterday she ate an entire piece of pepperoni pizza all by herself.  What a woman.  But she's also getting better at figuring out what goes in her mouth and what doesn't.  When she finds some lost lone marble on the floor and goes for the mouth, she'll stop, look at me, smile, and wait for my reaction.  My quick, "No, no, no!" complete with the finger-wag is just what she's looking for.  Once she's gotten it, she grins, puts the marble down, and claps.

Finally, she loves to climb things.  Stairs, couches, chairs, dish washers, stools, pillows, your face, etc. etc. etc.  Walking makes her nervous; she'll stand on her own but sure won't take a step unless you give her a finger to grasp.  But she'll spend a solid half hour at a time trying to climb up the couch and slide back off.  Up and down, up and down.  In fact, the other day I had her strapped in her high chair.  She was whining a little, but I ignored her as I was helping Mac with something.  Next thing I know, there's a boom and a squeal ... and Belle's on the floor.  I couldn't figure it out though; the tray was still on the high chair, and the buckles were still buckled. 

She is Houdini. 
She is opinionated and stubborn and sweet as sugar.  She is my little lady and makes such a difference in our little house. 

Sure do love you, Sis. (Please stop growing so fast.)

Halloween

Happy Halloween!

The success of this day required some plotting and planning ... I suspected a meltdown if I attempted to throw Mac's "costume" on right as we were getting ready to trick or treat, so first thing in the morning, I set to work.  "Let's put on your super-fast shoes!  And your Albert Pujols pants!  Wow, now you can hit it soooo far!"  We had a debate over if he was going to wear his Albert  Pujols shirt or his Mike Trout shirt ... which would help him hit it waaaay over the fence?  The deciding factor ended up being the facial hair.  He wanted Pujols until I started to draw a goatee on his face. 

Thank goodness Mike Trout is clean shaven.

And oooo, can't forget the ball cap! 
Tah-dah!

All dressed ... but to play baseball, not to go trick or treating. (Wink.)

So we played till Belle woke up.

She is much easier to dress.  She smiled and clapped and patted her dress.  And before you knew it, my baby Belle had transformed into ... baby Belle!

(You know ... from Beauty and the Beast?)

 

Once dressed, we headed out to Dad's office for a practice run at trick-or-treating. 

Mark was precious as could be; Mac left feeling pumped up and ready for Halloween.

So the afternoon left me with last-minute Halloween dinner planning.  We came up with brains and tombstones.  (Or chicken salad sandwiches and watermelon for those of you realists out there.)

Unfortunately this delicious meal had to be inhaled at break-neck speed so we could catch up to our massive group of trick-or-treating friends.

I slipped on the drive to the neighborhood by telling Mac, "All these people are going to see your Mike Trout costume and love it!  They will give you so much candy!"

He did not like the idea of his outfit being a costume one bit.

But then we got there, and there was Seth.  All dressed up like a Dragon, and excited to hit the pavement.  His enthusiasm is contagious.

The first couple of houses, Mac hung in the back and wouldn't take anything from anybody.

But after that he realized all the fun he was missing out on ... and for the rest of the evening he sprinted from door to door (but always made sure Seth was nearby), said "Trick or Treat!" took candy from countless strangers and occasionally remembered to say "Thank you!"

 

And by the end of the night, he said, "Mom, Dad ... I like Halloween."

I knew it ... I knew he would! 

No problems like that with Belle, she dove right in.  She flapped her arms and squealed at the little costumed kiddos running around, gobbled up any candy that came near to her mouth, and snuggled into me all night. 

Ah yes, I love the holidays.

Punky Punkins

Why does Mac call them punky punkins?  It's been so long ago I can't even remember.  But Mark and I loved it, and so have continued calling them that for quite some time.  I hope Mac never figures out that they are simply called "pumpkins".

This year the Hollnds invited us over for a throw-together meal (which, turns out, is awesome when throwing things together from two seperate kitchens) and some pumpkin carving two nights before Halloween.  (I have learned that when living in a humid environments, two nights is more than enough time for a carved pumpkin to become extremely gross on your front porch.  No carving any sooner!)

Mac's pumpkin had all his facial features in threes; because of course he is three years old now.

Naturally, Belle's pumpkin then had only one of everything.

She didn't mind that he picked her face; so long as she could pull out pumpkin guts and swipe them all over the table.  She is very ghoulish.

With it being late, it was kind of a wham-bam night, but a successful one nonetheless.  Mac almost decided he liked Halloween.

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.