Christmas is such a wonderful, blessed time of year. The simple act of walking to my mailbox and back brings me joy because I see everything covered in white. Being raised in Texas, I still love the snow and don’t know that I will ever, ever tire of seeing it. I hear about numerous examples of others helping each other shovel sidewalks and driveways as our little town is hit with snowstorm after snowstorm. We have given that service and had it given to us. At night I see Christmas lights on houses up and down our street and Christmas trees glowing through windows. It makes me feel like everyone is remembering our Savior, and that gives me such a deep sense of peace. I feel like we really are all brothers and sisters when our community becomes so unified in this truly holy, sacred season.

My daughter Erin and I both love to just sit and watch our Christmas tree with all the lights turned off. Only the Christmas tree lights stay on. I remember doing this for long periods of time from the time I was only a very small girl, after everyone had gone to bed. I think a lot of what I loved about it was how quiet it was. With seven brothers and sisters, my house growing up was always a madhouse. Loud and crazy. My house now with my own children is no different. I love it that my daughter and I share this activity together. I think we both love and crave the peace.

My sweet little Erin and Zach are spending this Christmas with their ‘other dad.’ They left Friday afternoon after school and we won’t see them again until the day after Christmas. When they were little, it broke my heart to watch them go, but kids are resilient and they were always pretty happy and excited about it. Now that they are getting a little older, it seems like they have a more difficult time with it. Part of me wishes I had some personal stash of knowledge and experience to draw on here to help them… but I don’t. I sympathize and I try to listen and I pray hard for guidance. But the truth is, I have no idea what it’s like to have to grow up this way, to have to travel back and forth between different houses, to live with different parents who have very different rules, to attend different classes at church, interact with different siblings and grandparents, have different bedrooms and clothes, just completely different lives. Erin sometimes tells me she wakes up in one house and has to just lay there trying to remember where she is. Zach has expressed often that it’s hard to leave your family – he has said it coming back home to us and leaving us. He asks every Friday if he is going to his other dad’s house that weekend. I can tell that his disappointment when he has to leave comes not from something he doesn’t like at his other dad’s house. It’s because he hates to have to pick up and leave everything – to have to change plans he has made in his head for the weekend. It’s not fair that they are put through is. They are so young and they have no say in any of it. I hate it.

Yesterday after school, I picked up the kids and we drove around town so Erin could deliver her Christmas gifts. She loves doing this every year. This year, she walked down to the dollar store with all of her savings. She bought gifts for all her friends, all her brothers, and all 4 of her parents. She then took all the gifts down to her room and wrapped and labeled them all by herself. The least I could do was drive her around so she could deliver them before she had to leave for Christmas. At the second house, she came running back super excited, telling me about how they had said they were just about to call her and ask if she wanted to come over and go sledding down this big mountain of snow in the front yard. As she was telling me, the sad expression on my face made her remember she was going to her other dad’s house that day. She wasn’t going to have time to come and play. She stopped mid-sentence and looked down and I saw a tear fall. It still breaks my heart now just to tell this story. I rubbed her arm and hugged her and told her how sorry I was and how I knew it was so hard. I told her how much I wished I could fix this for her, and how much I loved her.

Then I bit back my own tears, because my sadness and frustration will not help her at all. She needs my help and support to be able to get through this and find the positive in it. I started to talk about whose house we were going to next and when she told me, I started to share a funny memory about this friend. She was soon smiling and laughing with me and running up to the next house. Every time she delivered a gift, she came back to the car, grinning from ear to ear. It’s what I love about Christmas. Giving. Putting others before yourself and seeing the joy in their eyes. I loved watching her.

As we were finishing up, she said, “You know, mom, a lot of kids tell me how lucky I am because I get two birthdays and two Christmases and so many extra presents. But what they don’t realize is all the things I have to miss out on.” And she’s right. But then we get home and she and Zach get ready and put their happy faces on when their ‘other mom’ arrives and give me big hugs that are just a little extra long. I see in their faces how much they wish they didn’t have to go and it makes me hurt inside. But then we smile at each other and I remind them I will see them soon. Scott reminds them “to not have too much fun.” It always makes them laugh as they promise they will have way too much fun. They are so sweet.

The Savior loves my little ones even more than I do. He loves me more than I understand. I know it hurts Him every time one of His children is sad or is struggling through a hard situation. I know it hurts Him, but I also know there is a purpose to this life. I know He was born and lived and died for ME. And for every one of my little babies. He did this so we could be like Him, so we could live with Him and find the fullest and truest happiness there. I know that He has a plan and a purpose for Erin and Zach – that although they have to go through this, there is a reason. They are learning something important that I know will bless their lives and the lives of those around them. I don’t want to take that away from them. I have to trust my Savior loves them and knows that although their situation is hard, they can handle it. He knows they can. And He loves them and hugs them for me when I can’t be there.

I am so grateful for this wonderful season to remind me of the miracle of Christ’s birth. I am so grateful for all He did for me. I am so grateful for my wonderful husband who has so much patience and love for me and whom I love so much. I am grateful for each and every one of my children. What a blessing it is to be a mother and to learn to love as God loves, to see God’s love for me in each of my children’s eyes. I am truly blessed. Merry Christmas!!

I love General Conference. I love it more and more the older I get. I have two experiences this General Conference I want to share...

Yesterday we were gathering the kids to go downstairs and watch Conference. My oldest son, Zach, is 8 years old and had just asked if he could play on the computer. "No," I said. "It's time for General Conference."

"What?" he exclaimed. "It's Saturday! We are going to watch it today?! How long does it last??"

"It ends tomorrow afternoon."

"WHAT?! We have to sit and watch it for two days?? Noooo.... Why??"

"No, Zach. We don't watch it straight through. We watch it for two hours and then take a break and do that four times over the next two days. Dad also will go to the Priesthood Session tonight. We do it because we want to listen and learn what the Lord wants to teach us through the leaders of the Church." He continued to whine at me in a high voice until Scott called him downstairs. I don't know exactly what Scott said to him, but I do know he stopped whining. ;) He is such a good dad.

The very first talk of the very first session was about why we have General Conference. It was amazing. We were quick to point out to Zach that his question was being answered right then. He had been whining and complaining about why we had to go sit for hours and hours and listen to Conference, and here was the answer -- in the very first talk!! We pointed out that this was not a coincidence. The Lord cared about him and was listening to him and wanted him to know the answer to his question. What a testimony that was to all of us!

The next experience happened today. After the morning session, the boys went out to play in the backyard. I called out to ask Zach to go feed and water the rabbits. Soon after, Wally came running inside to tell me to come quickly because two rabbits were dead. One of them was Zach's and he was outside crying.

We went outside to find Zach crying and petting his rabbit, who was still barely alive (but barely) and trying to encourage him to live and eat. We moved both rabbits out of the hutch and laid them on the ground. He continued to cry and cry. He told me his rabbit (named Chocolate) was his best friend and he was never going to smile again. Poor Zach.

As I comforted him, I was reminded of the talk we had just barely listened to from President Monson. He spoke about his wife passing away a few months ago and the sorrow he went through. I reminded him of the talk and why Pres. Monson said he could continue on after his best friend was gone. It was because he knew where she had gone and he knew they would be together again someday. I told him that his rabbit and all the pets we loved here on earth would be there too -- that he could be surrounded by all the animals he loved someday in heaven and they would love him too. Wally started crying and said he missed Grandpa Nalder (who passed away a few years ago and whom Wally is named after). I hugged him and Zach asked if Grandpa would take care of his rabbit. I said that was a wonderful thought and I bet he would be happy to do that. It made both boys smile - and me too.

What a blessing General Conference is! We are so blessed to listen to a prophet's voice and hear the counsel from all the church leaders. I am so grateful for my testimony, for this wonderful church that I am a part of, and for my Savior who continues to show me time and time again that He listens to us and loves us.

I had a doctor's appointment today. I weighed the incredible weight of 175 lbs. Why do they allow pregnant women to see their weight gain? It's just depressing. I have the biggest weight gain still to come over the next four months. I will be over 200 lbs before it's all over. Depressing.

We also found out some other important news at the doctor's office today. We're having a boy! This will give us 5 boys and 1 girl. Although I am now starting to adjust to this news, I have to admit even several hours after the news I was still breaking off and on into tears. I can't remember if I blogged about this or not, but soon after my youngest boy Russell was born, I was thinking about whether or not to have more children. I had a very spiritual experience when the Spirit bore witness to me that I was not done and was supposed to have another baby.

It is true I did not have any confirmation or assurance I would have a girl, but there was this part of me deep inside that felt like I must be having a girl. We had four boys already and I felt for some reason we were supposed to have another baby. It must be a girl. That must be the reason. I just knew it. I already had plenty of boys, so why would I need to have another boy? IT MUST BE A GIRL. As time went on and I became pregnant, I have to say I felt more and more assured I would be having a girl. Scott tried to bring me down and give me occasional reality checks, reminding me how we didn't know what we were having and I was only setting myself up for disappointment. I tried. I sincerely did. But deep down, I just knew we had to be having a girl.

Today at my ultrasound, the technician asked if we wanted to know the gender. We assured her we did! For those of you who have had an ultrasound like this, they always check everything before they look at the gender. They look at the heart a milllion different ways, they look at the spine, and the brain, and the femur, and the feet, and the hands, and the kidneys, and take tons of measurements... You basically just tell yourself to sit back and be patient. Then they usually give you some kind of hint that they are about to look for the baby's gender. Our technician was in the middle of all of this, looking at all these different views of the spine. Then she blurts out, "Oh! Look at that! He's flashing us! It's definitely a boy." I felt like someone had slapped me in the face. Out of the blue. For no reason. I wasn't mentally ready for that declaration. I had known it was going to be a girl. And then randomly in the middle of looking at the spine, everything changed. It still feels a little surreal.

I couldn't hold the tears back, but at least I didn't sob there in the office. I waited until Scott and I were on our way home. :) My poor Scott. I know it must be frustrating to remind someone over and over again to not get their hopes up so high - only to have them do it anyway and then watch them crash with disappointment. I kept thinking, "Am I just not good at raising girls?" and "How could my feelings have been so wrong?" and continued to doubt myself and how much I have clearly not been in tune with the Spirit. Scott has been very patient with me today though, telling me over and over again what a good mother I am and reminding me that our lives are far from over. There are reasons for everything and we are not supposed to know all of God's reasons today for everything that happens. In fact, we cannot. It comes down to faith. Faith that even though the path I thought was in store for us turned out to be wrong, Heavenly Father knows the path we are supposed to take. And it is better than the one I would choose for myself. Better not just for me, but for everyone around me.

I go to bed tonight excited to meet this little boy that will be joining our family. He must be a pretty special little guy. I know that he will be exactly what our family needs, and we will all love him dearly. I am blessed to have so many little boys. And I continue to be blessed by my little Erin, whom I love so much and who is already one of my very best friends.

I was standing by the back door watching my three little boys play in their tiny little blow-up pool yesterday - having the time of their lives - and I just felt such happiness. I mostly blog about my horrible experiences or adventures with my kids, honestly because I think those are the times that I feel the most need to vent and get things off my chest. But more often than not, my children fill me with a deep sense of joy. I love being a mom. When I hear Erin and Zach playing a little duet together on the piano, when my little one year old squeals as Scott pretends to chase him around the kitchen, when they all run around screaming and squirting each other in the backyard, when my boys battle each other with their noodle swords, and even when one of my kids throw themselves on the ground crying in despair, it makes me smile -- because I see myself in them and I remember my own childhood now long gone, and it brings me this deep joy to see part of myself continuing on and beginning again.

With all of this reflection, I move on into my next line of thought... A word about myself has managed to get out and start quickly spreading, so instead of trying to reign it in, I am just going to say it myself and be done with it. The word is pregnant. Yes, my friends, Scott and I find ourselves once again expecting a new addition to our little family, baby number SIX!!

In so many ways it is strange to think that I am going to be the mother of six children... I mean, that is a lot of kids!! I swear, I was just in high school yesterday, so young and innocent, going to pep rallies, running cross country, playing volleyball, cheering for the basketball team, going to prom... It's weird that this part of my life is not only gone, but long gone.

And then in another way, it feels so normal and right that I will have six children. I have seen this day and imagined it since I was a very little girl. I always knew I would have a lot of children running around. I loved my life as a child with 7 brothers and sisters. I loved the chaos and the forever friendships you can only have with a sibling. I loved watching my mom and always wanted to be just like her.

I am truly so, so excited to have this baby! I am not very far along yet, only about 9 weeks, not long enough to "show" in theory... but in REALITY I am showing about as much as my sister at 5 months along. I can't be for sure, but I swear, the very first week of my pregnancy I think my pants started feeling tight. I have decided my body knows exactly what to do and is just kicking it in gear early. It's a little depressing to be showing this much so early because it probably means I am going to get HUGE, but then again, I always get huge. lol -- Just writing this makes me laugh. I like being pregnant in a lot of ways because I don't stress anymore about how big I get. I just enjoy the pregnancy for what it is (getting huge and fat and carrying a gigantic watermelon around in my stomach) and I will worry about repercussions afterwards. Maybe not the best way to live, but I have to feel it isn't the worst way either. :)

I haven't even had my first doctor's appointment yet, although I will in two days! I think I will be due mid February. That means we should be able to find out the gender in October sometime. I have never understood those people with patience enough to wait until the baby comes to find out the gender. I am, of course, hoping to finally get a little girl Mouritsen in this household and Erin desperately needs a sister in this house of crazy boys!!! Please everyone... pray for us. ;)

Well I met my New Year's Resolutions for 3 months. I kept meaning to write something in April but never quite got around to it. I guess at least I have room for improvement next year...

My mornings are so stressful. No wonder I don't want to get out of bed in the mornings. Here was my morning today:

I woke up, went downstairs to get Erin moving (she always takes the longest to get ready) and go upstairs to start breakfast. We had oatmeal. Actually I had to wash a pan so we could have oatmeal. I almost don't want to show you this, but I will. I haven't seen my countertops in days. My life is so crazy busy right now that I feel like I am only maintaining. Actually, not even maintaining -- look at these dishes. UGH

Wally has been doing so so well with not wetting the bed lately, but last night he not only wet his sheets but he also had a bloody nose, bleeding all over his pillow. As I began cleaning that up, Russell woke up on my bed. Wally and Erin began fighting over who got to go get him. I solved it by saying it was Wally's turn. Erin gets to get him when he wakes up in his crib, and Wally gets to get him when he is on my bed. Erin began freaking out that she never EVER gets to get him because he always ends up in my bed. Not totally true, but I definitely see her point. I finish getting the sheets into the washer and work on fixing Erin's hair.

I was finishing up her hair (about 8:05) when I realized Zach had never gotten in the shower. He is still sitting at the breakfast table looking at his Guinness Book of World Records. I yell at him to get in the shower and why didn't he get in when I asked him?? He said he didn't hear me and starts to cry, but he gets in. The crying doesn't faze me much today. You see, Erin had been crying nonstop while I fixed her hair because she said her feet were frozen and I was making her stand right by the vent. I said she should be grateful we have AC or she would be too hot. She also wanted to wear flip flops but couldn't because its against school rules. She said every other girl has lots of sandals to choose from and she only has one pair. I ignored her.

I finish with Erin's hair and am signing off folders when the alarm goes off to warn me I have about five minutes before the bus arrives. I yell at Zach to get out of the shower and go to sign his folder. I find the missing pages of his homework shoved into his backpack (he could only find one page last night). He has luckily finished most of it except like half a page which I rushed him through. Erin is just standing by, watching us. I look up and see her there and get after her that the bus is probably out there and she needs to GO!!! She stomps off that she's a horrible daughter and I hate her. She opens the door to see the bus pulling up to the stop sign in front of our house. She takes off running to the next bus stop, so I holler "bye" after her and zip up Zach's backpack while pushing him out the door... just as Erin comes running back in saying she forgot something. She trips at the door and hits her knee really hard on the tile. As she laid on the floor crying, I yelled at Zach to go catch the bus and then help up Erin. I gave her a hug and asked her what she forgot. She said she forgot to hug me goodbye. What a tender heart she has. "Oh Erin," I said. I hugged her tightly, told her I loved her, and then told her to hurry and try to catch the bus. "If you don't make it," I say, "just come back and I'll take you." But I guess she made it because she didn't come back.

I feel like I just ran a marathon... NOT that I have every run a marathon or have any ambition to ever run one. Besides, who has the time?? I don't even have time to fit in a 1-mile jog on most days. I would rather take a nap anyway... or maybe just do the dishes. :)

Zach is seriously one of a kind. He was baptized recently. It was a wonderful day and I was very proud of him. He is growing up so much. But he is still Zach.

A few days ago, Zach called me from school. "Mom? Um, I forgot my library book at home."
Me: Is it library day today?
Zach: Yes, and it's also art day but we already did that earlier today. I was working on a special project about...
Me: But did you need something from me, Zach?
Zach: Oh yes! I need my library book because today is library day. It's called "The History of Monsters." It's a big book and it's green. All the kids are already in the library, and the librarian said I can't get any more books at all until I turn that one in because it's overdue.
Me: Do you know where the book is?
Zach: Somewhere downstairs... But I think you could find it if you looked for it.

At this point, he begins going on about all the places I should look. I go look on the bookcase in the toy room and found it there. I go upstairs, put on my shoes, and load up the kids. He is still talking.

Me: Ok, Zach. I found it and I will bring it up to you.
Zach: Oh, great mom! Now, mom? (pause)
Me: Yes?
Zach: Well, um... Come as fast as you can because everybody is already in the library but don't speed, ok?
Me: (smiling) Ok, Zach.
Zach: Wait, um... Mom? (pause)
Me: Yes?
Zach: Well, um... Because if you speed then you will get a ticket. And getting a ticket means you have to pay a lot of money. And do you know why I don't want you to have to pay a lot of money?
Me: Why?
Zach: Well, um.. Because then if you spend a lot of money because you got a ticket then you won't have very much money left and then you won't have any money left for ME. (At this point I swear I can hear him smiling. I am starting to laugh) Because then you won't have any money to buy me anything because you will spend all your money on that ticket you got for speeding. And I really want you to have money for ME...
Me: Ok, Zach. Ok. I get it. (we are both slightly laughing now) I will be there soon.
Zach: Ok, bye. I love you!
Me: Love you too.

Then when I get there, he is sitting on a chair right by the front office, reading a book. I asked him about how he got that book, and he told me that he already had this one, but he wanted ANOTHER one, which is why he needed me to bring the one from home... hmmm...

As I am leaving, he says "Thank you mom! You are the best mom ever!"
Me: Thanks Zach.
Zach: Oh wait, mom?
Me: Yes? (pausing in the doorway)

He then comes over and gives me a big hug, a very slobbery kiss on the cheek, and blows a raspberry in my ear. And then starts to laugh hysterically.

Me: Bye, Zach.
Zach: Bye, Mom!! XOXOXO!!

Come What May & Love It

We had quite a scare last week with my dad. He had been having some intense stomach pains and finally went into the hospital Monday morning. His appendix had burst and he needed surgery right away. In the surgery, they also had to remove one of his colons, discovered he had a hernia and a large mass that they weren't sure was cancerous or not. I felt concern, but somehow detached from my feelings until about Thursday night. He was still in the hospital and wasn't doing very well. I had tried to talk to him on the phone, but he had tubes in his throat and couldn't talk but for a few seconds. My mom spent the nights sleeping on a chair in his room. That night I cried for the first time. I still didn't know if he had cancer, and I couldn't see him or even talk to him. I couldn't be there for a support for my mom. They were thousands of miles away, and I couldn't do anything to help. I was struck with how fragile life is, and I hurt inside, feeling like I was missing all of this important time with my parents that I won't get back.

Things got better after that night. The mass they discovered during surgery was not cancer, and my dad began to improve enough that he was released on Friday evening to go home. I always miss my mom and dad. I miss my kids getting to know them as well as I do. But I know they are doing the best they can, and I know that we are blessed to know that no matter what happens in the future, we will see each other again someday. And there won't be these thousands of miles in between us then. My good brother in law, Kevin, showed a short video during the Mouritsen FHE Sunday night entitled, "Come What May and Love It." I couldn't figure out how to post the video on this same blog entry, so I added it as a separate entry.

All I could think of while we watched it was my mom and dad. There are so many things we can't control about our lives here on Earth - our age, sudden health problems, how regularly we get to see family, sometimes where we live and sometimes even death of our loved ones. I wanted to share this video and just say how much I appreciated watching it. I was reminded that no matter comes to us in our lives, we can find joy. We can "love it." I'm grateful you're still with us, dad. I'm grateful you are my dad and for the strong example of faith you always are. You still have a lot to teach us. I love you!

I was all upset because I set a New Year's goal to write on my blog at least once a month and I thought I had forgotten last month. It's only January, and already I have failed in my goal. But then I got on today and realized my last entry was January 1st!! Hooray! So I am blogging again today and hopefully will be able to keep this up all year. It's only once a month, right?

This morning has been pretty normal for me. I just got the kids off for school and we all waved as the bus drove away. I walk into the kitchen to finish clearing the kitchen table. As I went down the hall to put something in the dirty clothes, I notice Russell in his room. He has completely emptied his diaper bag all over his room and is chewing on something. It is a lego. He easily gives it up to me with a bunch of spit -- he is always very easygoing about most things. I shoo him away and pick everything up. As I finish, he walks in, snacking on something he obviously pulled out of the garbage can. I hate it that he does that, but it is seriously his favorite past time. I really get after him for that and swat him on his bum, pretty hard I thought, but he runs away laughing hysterically.

So I put the lid back on the trash can and go see where he went. Someone left the bathroom door open and he has opened cupboards and began throwing random things into the bathtub. I pick everything up, shoo him away, and shut the bathroom door. I take a bathroom break and soon hear too many noises in the kitchen. When I arrive, he has pulled off a plate and fork from the table (we had pancakes -- sticky with lots of syrup). He was pouring it all over himself and the floor and licking it up hungrily. Nice. So I picked him up, cleaned him off, and put him down. He started running as fast as he could back to his sticky spot of the floor. I have to hold the back of his shirt while I tried to rinse off and squeeze a rag. Then I let go and raced him to the sticky spot. I have to wash it up while I keep him away with my leg. He wails for a little while and then walks away. He doesn't throw many fits, unlike the rest of my children... After that, I finish clearing off the table so he won't pull down more dishes. I walk down the hall and find him again in his room. This time he found his new package of diapers I just opened last night and has pulled out all of them and proceeded to throw them all over his room. I shove the diapers into a corner and call it good.

I still haven't started any laundry, and Erin was crying all morning that she didn't have any pants to wear (she had several pair, just not any that she would agree to wear). I go into the laundry room to start a load. Russell follows me. The laundry room is his favorite place in the house besides the garbage can. I let him help me put clothes into the washer for a minute, but somehow he sneaks around me to grab the detergent cup. I use liquid detergent and keep the bottle and the measuring cup right behind the door. He knows that. He loves to grab the cup, pour out the little bit that is usually remaining in it, and then get down and spread it all over. He had succeeded in grabbing the cup and emptying it onto the floor before I noticed he had it. So I grabbed it, scooted him out of the laundry room, got the washing machine started and shut the door. He walked away, not a care in the world, and I went back in to clean it up.

I come back into the kitchen and he is in the garbage again (AAAAAAHHHHHH!!). He apparently couldn't reach anything good this time, so he has just tipped it over. A can with tomato sauce is spilled on the floor and he started walking towards me with an empty can of cream of mushroom soup. 

Where is he now while I'm writing this blog, you ask? I'm in the kitchen, so at least I know he hasn't been in the garbage, and the bathroom doors are closed. He is downstairs... but you can count on it that he is wreaking as much havoc as possible. How can a 1-year-old, the most pleasant baby I have ever had, cause this many problems??? I have decided my only recourse is to sell him to the gypsies. Does anyone have a number I can call?

Here is the story about how I lost all "plugging and unplugging the outdoor Christmas lights" privileges:

Scott isn't as mobile lately, what with his sprained ankle and all. So two nights ago, he was all propped up downstairs and asked me to go turn off the Christmas lights outside. As soon as I opened the door, a bird flew straight into the house, around the living room, and perched himself on our curtain rod. I looked at him in shock. "Scott?" I called. "I opened the door and a bird flew inside." "ARE YOU KIDDING ME??" he yelled back. "I ask you to do this one time and a bird flies in the house!" Amidst curses and other foul things I would rather not repeat (just kidding sweetie, I just thought it would be funny in my story ;)), I turned off all the inside lights, hoping he would find his way out the front door. In all honesty, he was this beautiful, small little bird and it was FREEZING cold outside and I just felt so sorry for him! I kind of wanted to let him just stay and warm up for awhile, but I knew I probably shouldn't let him set up shop inside my home. So I snuck over to the Christmas tree and turned off the lights and he started flying all over the room and into a couple of walls before he fell to the ground. I was horrified he might be dead, but as I scooted closer, he hopped around. The front door was open, but he hopped around the back of the door and I was worried he wouldn't be able to get out that way. In the end, however, all was well and he squished out through the crack, flew up onto the rosebush, and then shortly after, flew away. I felt happy he was ok.

Next evening as it is getting dark: Scott asks me if I would be willing to turn on the outdoor Christmas lights. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Remember what happened last time?" We both laugh good naturedly and he tells me I better not let any birds in this time. Does anybody want to guess what happened?.... That's right. As soon as I opened the door, the bird (I'm pretty sure it's the same one) flew straight into the house like he owned it. Maybe I was too sympathetic the first time. Now this little guy thinks he can just walk all over me. This time he flew into the kitchen and landed up on top of the cupboards. The first time, my boys were asleep and they only got to hear the story. But this time, they were wide awake, upstairs, and loving every second of it. They were running around yelling in excitement. Scott took them in a bedroom and shut the door so I could try to get the bird outside again. It wasn't as easy this time. I turned on the lights outside and all the lights off inside, but he could see lights shining in through the kitchen windows and I think it confused him. If I got him to move from his perch, he would fly around and around the kitchen about 10 times and find a new spot to rest. I'm sure he was freaked out. I finally got the idea to turn on the light in the living room, and it worked. He flew in there, and then I turned off that light, and after a few more spins around the living room and a little encouragement, he flew outside.

So now you understand why Scott took away my privileges. I guess I have to admit, it's probably for the best. Who knows what I would let in next time.