Welcome to the Age of Accountability, Joss!

Tristan, Joss, Chloe, and Charlotte at the San Diego Temple


Uncle Garrett with his nieces


Our eternal family. Landon's behind the camera.


I refinished the floors in our house. That involved putting wood-filler in all of the cracks. This crack is compliments of one of our renters.



Lots of sanding. Hours of sanding. Then vacuuming. Then sanding again.


A dirty job.


Pretty floor. More important, protected floor.


Someone put up a tire swing while we were in Costa Rica. The kids love it.


The kids like to be carried to bed every night. This is Landon being efficient.



Joss and her friend Alaina hula-hooped for the ward talent show and had a ball. Perhaps I'm biased, but it was the best 2 minutes of the night.


Joss' 8th birthday party. The kids had just had a water balloon toss and are getting pumped up to throw some at Darth Maul (AKA Landon).


Landon awaits his fate. May the Force be with him.


Chloe chucks a water balloon at the Sith Lord, Darth Maul.


Getting ready to blow out candles.


Logan enjoyed the cupcakes.

Joss had her 8th birthday party yesterday. We had gobs of children running about the house, lots of pizza and sugar, water balloons, and a piñata. Jocelynne says that 8 is her favorite number and she is eagerly awaiting her baptism on Sunday.

Chloe is starting to adjust to school, although she still insists she misses me all day and would rather be at home. Although she is wonderful at making friends in a casual setting, for some reason she's having problems making connections at school. Her teacher says she's like a deer in the headlights. I've seen an incredible leap in her reading and writing skills, and I think with time she'll settle in and relax. She wrote a book about an imaginary pet fish over the weekend that was adorable.

Tristan started a co-op preschool last week. He's thrilled to be one of the big kids that gets to go to school. His one dissatisfaction is that he doesn't get to be transported by bus like his sisters. They were supposed to make a marshmallow project last week, but his materials didn't last long enough to become a work of art.

Logan is talking a lot now, and prefers English to Spanish even though I speak to him in the latter language. He's starting to potty train, but doing it on his terms. He has a horrible habit of kicking me in the shins repeatedly whenever he doesn't get his way. Honestly, sometimes it's easier to just give him whatever he wants. Now I know why the baby of the family ends up getting spoiled: by the time the last one rolls around Mom is old and tired. And the shins are a sensitive area.