Swiss Days

Every year, the Gunn family gets together in St. George for the Swiss Days festivities.  It's the day Santa Clara celebrates being settled by pioneers.

There's fireworks, parades, lots of vendors, and a 5k race early Saturday morning.

I haven't been since Mac was two weeks old.

And after telling my athletic now-5-year-old about it, he was completely sold.  We decided it was time to go ahead and do it, whether or not Mark could get off work.

I came to regret the decision for a while, but eventually changed my mind.

See, Belle started puking in the car halfway there.

She continued puking.  All afternoon, all evening, and all through the night after we got to Grandma's house.  While driving, I had no help and so had to stop every time she hurled to wipe it up and change her.

It took me 8 hours to get to St. George.

It's supposed to take 4.

We had originally planned to stay with Uncle Josh and Aunt Heidi, but once the puke settled in, we decided a place with no cousins would be much kinder to the family.  So luckily, Grandma Gunn had room for us, and we holed up there.

As soon as I pulled in - late, flustered, and practically cursing - Chris flew into action helping me clean up and get the kids settled.  She was wonderful.  She sat with Belle while I pulled together Mac's racing gear, and then I stayed up with Belle throughout the night as she alternated between begging for water and then throwing it up again.

At six a.m., the house got going.  Mac leaped to his feet; thrilled to run his first ever REAL race with a NUMBER on his shirt.  He was going to be TIMED, and if he ran as fast as he could without getting in a stroller or being held, he would win a REAL MEDAL.  He practically floated out the door, he was so excited.

Aunt Sarah and Uncle Adam took him to the starting line, while I sat with Belle and Chris made an early morning run for gatorade and popcicles. She arrived in time for me to see Mac cross the finish line, bless her heart.

I'm told he took off at the beginning of the race, and then at about halfway through, Aunt Heidi found him walking on the side of the road.  (I'm pretty sure he was not expecting the race to be that long.)  She dragged him along with her (THANK YOU HEIDI), and he was able to finish without being held or sitting in the stroller. "My leggies was just so tired," he told me, "but I just couldn't stop cause I wanted a medal."

That not-stopping alone did win him a medal. Literally.

They even had a rainbow.

A few of the Gunn family runners ... couldn't snag the rest of them.

 But even though all the 1-5 year olds got a medal, Mac did the unthinkable.  He took first place.

That woke his tired little body right up.

All the racers in the 1-5 age division.

Mac received a cowbell medal with a blue ribbon because he took first place.  Here you see him trying his best not to smile.  Hm ... that sounds like his dad.  Always playin' it cool.

 And Miss Belen?

Well, she had her last puke as all the racers left that morning, and spent the rest of Saturday hanging out with either me or Grandma while all the cousins played at Josh and Heidi's.

She ate popcicples and drank gatorade, and best of all?

She got alone time with Grandma and Grandpa.  With 23 cousins, that is kinda hard to come by.

And I got to slip away to doll up an already heart-stoppingly beautiful gal ... the oldest of the Gunn cousins, Taylor!  I wish I had a better picture, but this will have to do.

This girl is a knock-out; it was so fun to just play up what's already there and act like it was all thanks to me and Katie.  We can't take credit for these good looks! But it was certainly fun to go a little crazy for her first-ever Homecoming.  High school dances are the greatest.

So all in all, in spite of the puke, I'd call Swiss Days 2014 a success.

As long as nobody else is puking right now ... sorry if you are, Gunn family!!

30 Weeks Pregnant

In September, I hit 30 weeks.

I cannot believe I have a mere 10 weeks before our little family becomes a family of 5.

That sounds so big ...

I have felt so big too.  I have certainly gained more weight with this sweet little man than I have with either of my first two.  It's stressful, but it makes sense; I've been lifting a little at the gym (which makes me hopeful some of the weight is muscle), and I've been eating plenty of amazing food with all the family hang-outs we've been attending.

I have felt great.  Tired and hungry ... but great.

As long as I get some protein.

Hard-boiled eggs have been my protein of choice; they're quick and fast and as I've gotten better at cooking them, they're really tasty.  I'm hoping to hang on to this habit after delivering my son; I've always hated hard boiled eggs up until he came around.  But now they're everything I need, and they take away the occasional dizziness I feel almost instantly.

But now, as I'm moving to the end of pregnancy, I'm starting to feel all those fun holy-smokes-everything-is-smashed-inside-of-me feelings.  It's hard to breath.  It's hard to sit up.  I can't bend over very well, and this sweet little man kicks me constantly.  The first 20 weeks or so, I could hardly feel a thing because of my anterior placenta.  But now this dude is so big that even my massive placenta can't hide him; his toes curl around my rib cage and his head knocks on my pelvis all day long.

As uncomfortable as it can be, it's so sweet and reassuring ... I hope he hangs on to all that activity; he'll need it when he comes to hang out with his brother and sister.

So now we have entered the 10 week countdown, and we are scrambling to prepare for our little man.  Moving is the top priority, but I'm finally starting to pack up my birth center bag and pull out all the baby clothes.  I try to imagine you in them.  Will you start out with lots of dark hair, like both of your siblings did?  Will it stay?  Will you outweigh them both?  Will you sleep for us?  Mac and Belle were SO different from the very get-go, I'm just thrilled to see your little personality shine through.

I hope we have a new home to bring you back to my tiny, wiggly man, but know that wherever we are, we will be together and it is going to be fantastic.

MacAlister is 5

Oh my wonderful, smart, crazy 5 year old boy,

You are the sweetest, most loving little tough guy I've ever known.  I am your mother, so of course I am biased, but I'm not sure there ever was a more perfect combination of all things kind and masculine.

You're a lot like your dad.

You love your family.  Truly.  Gunn family rules, Gunn family games, Gunn family teams, Gunn family sports ... everything is better when we are a team.  You love being together, You love each one of us; you are tender to me, you are intent on teaching your sister the ways of the world, and you worship your father.  I hope you always are interested in us, because we surely are interested in you.

Your brain is so impressive to me.  You are the most logical five year old I have ever met.  You love numbers and patterns; from the time you were tiny, before you were ever talking, you were organizing things by color and shape.  You've known letters and numbers since you were tiny, and you currently practice with Belle more than I do to help her get them down as well.  You are only just now acknowledging that pretend is a fun way to play, but you are always sure to specify.  "Mom, we are playing a game about good guys and bad guys.  But it's just pretend, they really aren't real bad guys.  They are pretend bad guys.  It's not real"  Got it, buddy. 

I love your logic; if I can collect my thoughts and explain something in enough detail to you, you are satisfied.  Now whining, no fighting, nothing.  If it makes sense in your head, you are totally good to go.

My boy, your heart is made of gold.  Your worries are about people you love.  Will our family be safe?  Will we all continue to grow like we ask for every night in our prayers?  You cried when you killed a cricket and you cried when we buried your pet fish Pujols.  It was the sweetest thing.

You love dogs and all animals ... except for cats.  They made you very very itchy once, and you decided you'd never like to be around another one again.  That's okay, I don't want you around them either.

You are an incredible eater.  With Dad or I over your shoulder, you'll eat anything.  But even on your own, you love vegetables and fruit and meat.  Cucumbers, carrots, celery, and broccoli are always at the top of your list.  As in you will choose them first on a dinner plate full of options.  But no potatoes ... unless they're french fries.

You love having a job to do.  You don't often just play, unless there are lots of cousins or friends around to set up some ideas.  But otherwise, you like structure.  You love having chores, helping me measure ingredients when I cook, timing how long it takes to do anything, counting trucks as we drive, and teaching Belle how to play Candy Land and Perfection.  Sometimes you end up fighting because she likes to make up rules, while you want her to play the right way.  But more often than not I hear you say things like, "Good job Belle.  You're figuring it out."

Your favorite shows are "Paw Patrol", "American Ninja Warrior", "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" (early 90's version that Dad bought for you online), and secretly ... you love to watch "My Little Pony".  Sometimes you'll come home from school and say, "Belle!  Do you want to watch 'My Little Pony'?  Oh Mom, she does!  I'm turning it on!"  Okay, Buddy.

You love watching all sports, especially if Dad lets you stay up late to finish a game and tickles your feet while you cheer for your favorite team.  (If it's not baseball, you usually pick whatever team is red.)

You enjoy them all, and I've been so impressed with every little sport you've come across.  Basketball, soccer, running ... you're quite the athlete, but more than that, you love the competition.  You love to win, but even better ... you love to improve.

And improve you do.  When Dad tells you to change something in your swing, you do it.  When your coach asks you to aim for the left side of the goal, you do.  When Aunt Heidi tells you to speed up, the finish line is close ... you do it.

I love your intent to be better.

But you especially love to get better at baseball.  In fact, your fifth birthday party was a baseball party at Nana and Bumpa's with all your family ... just as you requested.

Baseball cake

Giant hot dogs for dinner

Eating on bleachers is awesome ... don't believe Uncle Mike.

Cousin Olive loves olives ... how fitting.

Possibly one of my favorite parts of the evening was the minor fit you threw when Aunt Rachel's friend picked you up.  You were TRYING to make a play.  Dad threw you the ball, and because you were picked up you could not get to the ball and tag her out.  You stomped off the field in a fury.  Dad went and talked to you, and we continued to play.  It didn't take long before you decided that even though you were still mad, you just couldn't miss the opportunity to play ball with your whole family.  But NO PICKING PEOPLE UP ALLOWED.

Nana can even crush Dad's terrible pitches.

Ready to make the play.  

You destroyed your pinata in one hit.  You are getting way too big and strong to not have a blindfold. 

Happy birthday, best boy.  I love you all the way to Jesus and back.

The Gunn Puppy Sitters Co.

We got a new puppy-sitting gig ...

he's incredibly adorable.

Quite possibly the most loving dog I've ever hung around.  He doesn't bark, doesn't shed, doesn't have to be exercised and loves to be held.

He really likes Mark's bum.  I do too.

And he's way too small.

His name is Freddy, and my children love him.  But he just can't defend himself.  Mac throws him over his shoulder and walks around the house with him.  Belle is gentle as can be (she is going to be the best big sister), but even she could kill him if she sat on him.

I heard her laughing one evening, and came in to discover she had brought him into the bathtub with her.  Geez.

We loved having him around, and it's been a great learning experience for Mac ... we've created a puff-ball reward jar for helping out at home and taking care of family members (including the dog), and it's been quite successful.  (Full jar=family outing to bowling/movie/Chucky Cheese.)

We were planning on having Freddy for a solid month while my sister-in-law moved and got all situated.

But then our apartment complex found out about him, and said we either needed to start paying fees or get rid of him.

Sorry, Rachelle ... we didn't give you as much of a break as we had thought.

Still, he was fun to have, and he helped me decide that we will most certainly buy a dog that can be wrestled and rough-housed with and do as much damage to my crazy kids as they do to him.  I would love for them to teach each other a little respect.

Now we just need a house to fit one in ...

Pre-School

Aaah!

It happened.

It actually happened.

Like everyone says, the last five years went by so quickly ... but in a lot of ways, I have a hard time remembering what it was even like before Mac was around.

Feels like I've always had him.

But now, for 12 hours a week every single week, he is putty in someone else's hands.

So weird.

Mac's teacher requests bags instead of backpacks ... so we got to work making his very own amazing Angles school bag.  I did this side, and the other side was all him.

Belle was thrilled to walk him to school, and then find her own school.  We walked to the gym from there and she loved running off to Belle's school while I got an hour workout in.

Awwwe .... look at him doing puzzles with all his little classmates.  And there's 10 boys in there, can't wait to invite them over to play!

After dropping Mac off, we began to walk away and Belle said, "Wait, Mom.  Forgot our Macky-Mac."  I explained he had to stay at school for a while and she pouted.  "No Mom, Macky not go school.  We miss him."

You're right baby girl, we do.

Now let's hit the gym and paint some nails, that boy is thrilled to be where he's at.