Happenings that Should Only Take Place in Horror Flicks or Gross-out Comedies

I used to be able to find stuff to write about all the time. Now that I'm trying to catch up with this blog and keep up, I don't find much I want to say. You'd think with four boys, two dogs, four (and a half) kitties, etc., that the hits would just keep on coming. I still plan on doing a post for each boy, but time is limited and chaos ensues to keep me from sitting for long stretches to write. Well, the last two days have made sure to give me enough fodder for a good ol' longish post.

My fish, Russell Brand, was inadvertently killed by the flea fogger we set off this weekend. All rodents and fishies were herded into the safety of the laundry room, but Bryce overlooked dear Russell. Alas, he was flushed to a watery grave this evening.

Last night, Bryce was working, and after successfully putting all of the boys to bed (yay for Duncan sleeping in his OWN BED all night every night), I was ready to get a wee snack and paint my nails and chill to some Devil Wears Prada. I had just freed "the twins" from their constricting prison, so I was flopping free and I walked into the kitchen where I felt a substantial SPLAT against my chest. Down into my shirt. And it was moving. I looked down straight into the loving eyes of one of these "little" bastards: That's a Texas tree roach for those of you not in-the-know. And they're big. Like... as long as your finger. They come out in full force in the summer and sometimes I catch one, saddle it up and let the mouse take a ride. As if it couldn't possibly get worse - a giant ROACH, for crying out loud - but they also fly. So, yeah, one of these guys had decided to go to second base with me. After inventing a few new cuss words on the spot, I watched as he scurried under the sink. I checked my pulse and decided not to call 911, then promptly put it out of my head to prevent roach dreams.

Bryce's schedule is the night shift this week, so he's here every day until 2:00. Neither one of us could sleep well last night, so we agree to trade off naps this morning. He got the first nap, I took the second. He lets the kids snack more than I do, and it's often I'll come home from an errand or out of my room from sleeping in, and the kids are carrying boxes of crackers/cereal/cookies, crumbs scattering everywhere. This morning, it was Corgan carrying around a box of Cocoa Puffs. I came to put Duncan on the floor, and started picking up the cereal that had fallen so Duncan wouldn't find them and gag. All was well... until... I picked up a Cocoa Puff that wasn't crunchy. And it wasn't as... sweet... as said cereal. Ladies and Gentlemen, I had picked up a turd. It seriously was the same size and color as the cereal all over the floor. But it was a turd. Corgan's diaper had failed in its duty to serve and protect our family from stray turds. While picking up a foul brown ball was not in my plans today, I can say I'm very glad I found it and that the baby's mouth didn't.

And finally, tonight, Corgan sneaked the tricycle into the living room while my back was turned and rode it straight down the steep double step into our bedroom. His nose was bleeding. And it bled a lot. And bled and bled and bled. Then it bled some more. I was thisclose to taking him to the ER fearing he'd broken it; it was bleeding too much for me to even look at it. It did finally stop, but not before soaking his shirt and mine. I also had some charming bloody sneeze spatters all over me. He's fine now, but the tricycle might have suffered some injuries as it was thrown with great force out into the front yard.

Here's hoping for a calmer rest-of-the-week.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

... start writing again. Really. I think I can. I WILL do it. It may take me a while to get back into the writing groove, but I will try. Since I don't have anything spectacular to report right now, I think I'll just give some wee updates on different topics and post a few pictures. Then we'll see what I can come up with tomorrow. Or the next day. Or, you know, sometime.

Ewan is incredible. He is loving kindergarten, and announced yesterday he has a girlfriend named Sarah. For the past two days, all he has talked about are the superhero team he has formed with Sarah, Natalie, each of us, and the cats. For Halloween, he wants to be AntMan, a hero he made up after an ant bit him (mimicking what he'd seen on Spiderman when Peter Parker is bitten by the spider.) Ewan is incredibly smart, and excessively sensitive. I love him madly and am so glad to be his mommy. I'm afraid he's more like me than I would like to admit, and that equates to being a major challenge. He requires more patience and care than the other two put together, but I know through prayer and faith, it'll all be worth it.
Fynn is hilarious and fun and stubborn and frustrating, and acts like a turd much of the time. He's in his testing phase, which means he ignores nine out of ten words that come out of my mouth just so he can see how I'll react. Unfortunately, I haven't been strict enough on him - not like I was on Ewan. Being pregnant and having Corgan when Fynn was so young really threw a wrench in my parenting philosophies and one year later, we are still recovering. But I'm trying to get the reins back, and hope to be raising a polite, kind, obedient little boy soon. I mean, within reason. He is a little boy, after all. And a very cute one at that. His face is so angelic, it belies the growling attitude he has most of the time. But he's still my little cherub who loves to play ball and cars, be a superhero, and copies everything his big brother does. Everything.

Corgan is quite a big boy. His height and weight are in the 95th percentile. He actually only began to army crawl about one month ago; the doctor said when they are tall and big like that it is harder for them to get their heft around. Today for the first time, he can go from crawling to sitting up all on his own. And he's ready to start pulling up to stand. It's possible he'll be a slightly late walker, but I'm not concerned. He loves the kitties and meows back at them. He actually had a two minute long conversation with momma kitty Ruby today. It was very cute. He says "dada" and is working on "mama" which usually comes out "nana." He's still more blond than his brothers, and I kiss his feet and squeeze his thighs regularly. I can't believe he'll be one year old in a month. I mean, didn't I just have him last month?

The animal kingdom is alive and thriving in my home. Well, maybe not thriving. Two months ago, a hamster escaped its cage and was found the next day - rather, a piece of her was found the next day. I guess Ruby was hungry. In addition, Ruby has severed the tails of two, count them, TWO different gerbils, as well as murdering another. The survivors, short stub tails notwithstanding, are doing well. One of them has become my friend, squeaking at me and letting me pet her. The other gerbil... Well, I just can't help wishing SHE had escaped her cage instead of the hamster. I actually have a pretty funny story about that, but I'll save it. I went a little crazy after the deaths of the gerbil and hamster, and replaced them rapidly. So the current (and final) tally is two gerbils, two mice, and two hamsters. I can't help it; I like the furry little buggers.

We have kept two of the kittens from Ruby's litter, two little boys we named Oliver and Mudflap (Ewan named him after a Transformer.) They are sweet little guys, and I love them so!


Lucy, a cat I bought with babysitting money when I was 16 years old, had to be put to sleep last week. She had a tumor behind her tongue that couldn't be removed without removing her tongue. So she was basically going to starve to death either way. I went to the veterinarian with my dad, who has been her constant companion since I left and got married, and I was with her until the end, which wasn't easy. I tell you, that cat has absorbed more of my tears in years past as she gave me love and comfort - during an awful heartbreak, through getting over it, moving away from home, coming back with my tail between my legs, through meeting Bryce and watching him leave on a mission, through the two years waiting for him to come home...
I feel badly for my parents, who had gotten quite attached to her, more attached than I've ever seen them to any other animal. But I'm sure she's happy, and I feel confident she's somewhere with my little Flex, playing and being friends.

Me, I'm still fat and trying to motivate myself to work out and lose the stinkin' weight. I had a setback in the middle of July when I injured my knee and had to have surgery. It's still not back at 100%, but I'm doing physical therapy, and hope to be back to normal very soon. Then I won't have any more excuses. Ewan said to me the other day, "Mommy, you need to lose weight. Every day you look like you have a baby in your belly. I call you 'needing to lose weight' mommy." It didn't hurt my feelings, it made me laugh. But when my five year old can tell I'm unhealthy, it's very convincing. For too long I've thought, "Hey, I'm young, I have time, I don't have to worry about disease or diabetes, yet." I realized finally that I am working my way through my 30s, and I don't have time anymore.

Bryce and I had our garage converted into a bedroom for us. Our home is very small - 850 sq. ft. give or take, only two bedrooms, and we were sharing a room with Corgan. There were days Bryce would come home and I'd be laying on my bed having a claustrophobic fit. There was just room for nothing, and often when I needed a moment to myself, Corgan would be napping and I couldn't go in there. I'm grateful for our house, and we have a nice, huge backyard, but we really needed our own space. So now we do, and it's lovely. Thanks to *you know who you are* for this wonderful room, and thanks to Shannon for helping me put it together.

This is already too long - the perils of not keeping up. I hope you stuck through to this point. Hopefully I will be up and running more often, humor intact. And now I need to catch up on all of your blogs! Now - good night!

'Sup?

I was just about to head to bed, but remembered I wanted to try and post something every day, just to get back into the groove. So read at your own peril, it's really just me trying to fill some space. Things are going well over here at the Taylor household. Bryce and I are finally starting to feel like we are catching up financially due to his second job. So we're breathing a little easier, which is always a good thing. Ewan is already bored senseless since school isn't in session, and some of those interesting behaviors of his that had largely disappeared with pre-K attendance are now back with a mighty vengeance. It's going to be interesting getting through to the new year. Fynn is feisty, feisty, feisty. It's funny to look at your children and see yourself manifested in them. I thought Ewan was exactly like me, with some of his anxieties and behaviors, but I realize that Fynn is also exactly like me in a different way. Just ask my mom - apparently I came out of the womb practically hissing in feistiness. That's Fynn for you - it's me all over again. Corgan is now sitting up on his own, but he absolutely refuses to even attempt a crawl. It's frustrating because the Baby Olympics are in a month, and he's behind in his training.

We've had another pet death, our gerbil, Piper. I really don't know what happened. She was just dead. I feel bad for Sophie, her cage mate, because they were just the best of friends. You can't put another gerbil in with one that is already established, because they'll fight. But they are quite social creatures, so I'm sure she's lonely. Poor thing. You may think I'm totally crazy, but Flex's death bothered me so much that instead of getting my cat fixed as planned - I pimped her back out for another litter. She's starting to get all round on the sides. (Don't tell the animal activists, they'll picket my house.) I just want a kitten that doesn't have to have a territorial fight with Ruby over the house. We've already had two cats abandon us because we brought Ruby home. So this way, they know each other from the beginning! Sorry, I'm just a total cat freak. I may even keep two kittens. Just to make up for the trauma of losing Flex the way we did.

By the way, if you haven't already, got to Primp and Tell to enter our latest giveaway. It's a good one!

Okay, I'm already going to bed an hour later than I promised myself, so auf wiedersehen.

Taylor Status

What is the plural of "status?" Is it "statuses?" "Stati?" Hold on, I'm going to look it up... Oh, wow. It's "status." Hm! Who knew? Anyway... I know I haven't been doing regular posting here other than the occasional picture explosion, so I felt like just posting the state of all things Taylor-oriented.

Corgan is ginormo-baby. Every day, Bryce or I say, "When did he get so big?!" He has no teeth, yet, but he drools like a leaky dam. He's rolling over from back to tummy, and he's starting to experiment with some consonants, constantly screeching out "D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D!" He's a very happy baby, a major contrast from the colicky screamer he was the first few months. Every time he looks at someone, usually women, his jaw opens in a gigantic gummy grin and he crinkles his nose. We've made real progress in that our friend John doesn't make him cry anymore.

Fynn is so stinkin' fun. I can't believe how much he is growing and talking. He loves bugs, and we frequently find him on his belly, very closely examining a tiny creature. I have to stop him from picking up ants and spiders, but I do let him carry around a June bug when he finds one. The other day, he kept one in his hand, alive, through two hours of car travel and shopping time. However, that little booger WILL NOT sleep at night. We put him to bed at 8:00, and that kid will get up over and over again - sometimes more than a dozen times. Nothings works, either. We tried Super Nanny's advice of not saying anything to him, but immediately putting him back in bed, we've tried spanking (just a little tap). Nothing. Right now, having been put to bed an hour ago after not napping today, he's still in there taunting Ewan and roaring like a tiger.

Before I get into an update on Ewan, just a little about him. He's been quite difficult the last couple of years. He's very anxious and seems to have some sensory issues. It's all quite difficult to explain, but it has been a struggle, one that I fear will go on and I won't know how to handle. On the other hand, he's very smart. We could hold full conversations with him when he was barely two, and when he was three, he started sounding out and reading words on his own. He's very curious about words, and asks what everything he hears means. We recently (finally) got him into Pre-K through our elementary school. It has made such a difference. He'll now draw pictures (would never before, only scribble) and is more willing to work at something, whereas before if it was just a slight challenge, he would run screaming from the room devastated. Today, his teacher flagged me down to tell me their language and speech person visited the room today. She said to me, "This boy will read anything you put in front of him." Apparently, they gave him word lists, and he was reading at above a 4th grade level. So this language specialist is going to come in each week and work with him and see what else he's capable of. I was just so excited, because I worry about him so much. I had a hard time not crying in happiness for him. He's not into sports at all, but seems to have a very scientific mind, and you'll always find him in the company of adults rather than children. More than once I've gotten to school to pick him early and found him on the playground, talking his teacher's ear off while the children ensued in hilarity around him. He's quite an interesting, awesome kid.

Bryce is working hard, but may need a second job soon. I'm trying to keep up with everything, and barely succeeding. The kittens are cute and growing and each one has a home waiting for it. In fact, one will be staying with us and Ewan has named him Flex.

Fynn scopes out the insect life.

The biggest worm I have ever seen, even after being accidentally cut by a shovel.

So disgusting, yet so AWESOME.

Flex is on the left. Say a prayer: Fynn is determined to slam the door on one of them.

This is what Fynn does when I've banned him from the kittens. I tried to get a shot of one of their paws coming out, but they were too quick.

Hodgepodge

Saturday, we wanted to get out of the house, and since the Wisteria are blooming everywhere, I really wanted to go to the Botanical Gardens. My grandmother had Wisteria growing all over her back fence, and in the spring, you could smell it the second you pulled up in her driveway, and the backyard would just be a wonderland of purple. She's been gone for nearly twelve years now, and whenever I see Wisteria, I think of her. (I think of her with many flowers, actually.) I have some growing in my yard, but they don't bloom yet because it's a young vine. Watch - the first year we are out of this house, they will explode. We were looking for them at the Gardens on one of the paths, when Ewan and I both said, "I smell grapes!" We turned a corner, and BAM! there they were. It was gorgeous. They are right next to the roses, and the combination of the two scents made me feel like I was sitting RIGHT THERE in Grandma's backyard, talking about flowers and babies. She lived only a few blocks away, and when I was babysitting my nephew Chandler, Amy and I would put him in the stroller and walk over there. He'd play by her little fish pond while we all talked.

From a distance - look how high they climb.

Strolling

I wrote a poem years ago about sunbathing with turtles. I would post it here, but I'm sure it's not as good as I thought at the time.

A reluctant pose from Ewan. His favorite part of the excursion was sitting and being able to play with his new Transformers.

Another reluctant pose.

I didn't even ask him to sit for this. He just wandered over to this tree like it was a professional shoot, and he was a model. Then he started ripping daffodils out of the ground.

My attempt at photography.

Mommy and a 5-month-old Corgan. Let this serve as his 5 month post.

I could not resist posting this, with Fynn's arm around Corgan like real chums. I love these boys so much. Continuing on the 5-month-post vein, Corgan is growing so much. He "talks" all day and shouts out to hear himself. He's rolling from stomach to back, and almost from back to stomach. He usually ends up turning a 180 in the attempt.

Unloading the camera

Ewan and Fynn got new baseball hats.  Fynn sleeps with his every nap time.  I found him like this the other afternoon.  Trying to shield the light from his eyes?

Chillin' on a Sunday afternoon.

I think she wants some gerbil meat.  Must be a pregnancy craving for protein.  Yep, she's pregnant.  Want a kitten?  You know I'll end up keeping one.

If only Corgan had been next to Fynn instead of Bryce, and I would have had perfect little stairsteps.

Do these belong to you?  I washed a load of laundry and these were in the bottom of the washer when it was done.  I have never seen them before in my life.  Neither has Ewan.  Fynn can't tell me what I need to know.  I cannot figure out where they came from.  Please let me know if they are yours, and I shall return them.  I guess the exchange rate for a pair of socks is two play butter-knives.

Brycentonian

I haven't had much to blog about lately. Dooce posted some random questions and answers about her husband, and it was so fun to read more about her and him. She invited readers to do the same in her comments or on their own blog. I think I've posted a version of this before, so I apologize if any of this repeats. Before I get into it, however, there is a project Missy and I have been working on for about a month - and we are very excited about it. That's all I'll say about it for now - but check in next week for more details.  (And don't even ask me - I will so not tell you yet.  No matter who you are.)  Who knows... perhaps there will even be a lovely giveaway.  Or several...

What are your middle names?
My middle name is Nicole, his middle name is Patrick.

How long have you been together?
We were kind of "together" for over two years before we got married, so all totaled we've been together over eight years.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
Maybe a month.

Who asked whom out?
Pretty much I asked him out. I was pretty confident and bold, which is not usually like me, and I actually used some pick-up lines. "Wow, your eyes are so pretty." I had a wonderful guy friend plant the seed in his head about me, and then I started asking for rides to everything. "I just don't have a way to get there, can I get your number and I'll call you to give you directions...?" Next thing I knew, rides turned into spending full days together, each outing more elaborate and "datelike," often ending in an all-night phone call.

How old are each of you?
I'm 32 and he's 29.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
About the same. I have eight siblings, five of which live in Utah. He hasn't even met one of my brothers. I have Ashley that we see fairly often, and Amy lives in Austin so we only see her occasionally. We see my brother Erik maybe once every six months. Bryce has two brothers, one in Chicago and one in Houston. We just see them whenever they are in town.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Right now, adjusting to life after Corgan. The pregnancy was so incredibly hard on me in so many ways, and I'm still recovering - mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually - you name it. Plus, Corgan has been our most difficult baby. He's quite the crier, and won't ever be consoled by Bryce.

Did you go to the same school?
No.

Are you from the same home town?
Close. Him - Duncanville. Me - Grand Prairie. For non-Texans, that's less than ten miles.

Who is smarter?
We are both smart in very different ways. I'm more of a word/English smart, and he's more math/computer smart.

Who is the most sensitive?
Both.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Usually wherever I pick. He's good about that.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Oregon.

Who has the craziest exes?
I would have to say me, just because I have more exes. The odds are in my favor.

Who has the worst temper?
ME.

Who does the cooking?
Me, IF it gets done. I hate cooking.

Who is the neat-freak?
I try to be.

Who is more stubborn?
Me.

Who hogs the bed?
Corgan. :)

Who wakes up earlier?
Bryce. Or Ewan, the little booger.

Where was your first date?
There were many "first dates." Friendly "I don't want to admit I like you" date was On the Border. Friendlier "I totally dig you, man, but don't want you to know. But I'll still take you to this totally expensive restaurant" date was at a place called Aquanox. Then there was just watching the rain in his backyard. No one certain first date, really.

Who is more jealous?
Bryce. Bryce. Bryce. Bryce. Bryce.

How long did it take to get serious?
Maybe two weeks.

Who eats more?
Totally me. He orders salads and water. I order steak with double fries, a side of mashed potatoes and a trough of Coke. But he snacks CONSTANTLY, whereas I do not.

Who does the laundry?
Me.

Who's better with the computer?
Bryce

Who drives when you are together?
Usually Bryce.

Feel free to copy!

My birthday

On Thursday the 5th, my parents celebrated their 49th anniversary, and I turned 32. (Holy cow to both.) It was a good day. (Not counting my two-hour pity party. What is it about birthdays that make me whiny?!) I had mistakenly scheduled a dermatologist appointment for that morning, and I had double-booked a play date with Shannon and the gang. When I realized my mistake, I just asked if she could sit with Ewan and Fynn for my short appointment. Shannon made me the cutest little mushroom house for fairies that I totally love. I used to draw little ones identical to it all over my papers in high school. (I found out later several teachers and a friend's mom thought I was into 'shrooms. I didn't even know you could "do" 'shrooms. So there, haters!) At my appointment, the doctor wished me a happy birthday and had her assistant pack me a bag full of nice samples from Aveeno and Eucerin, among others. Awesome! When I went back to pick up the boys, Shannon had made my favorite cake: yellow with chocolate frosting, and the kids helped put on the sprinkles. It was very yummy, and again, thanks, Shannon! Then Julie stopped by with a can of Coke and two little birds she had made. They are so cute, and actually go quite nicely with Shannon's mushroom house. Bryce came home from work with some beautiful flowers and we went out for some Italian food. All in all, a simple, good day with lots of wonderful well-wishes on Facebook and in messages. Happy anniversary to my parents, and be forewarned for next year the 5oth!


Ignore the fact that I need to dust, and look how cute! I love all of them. Do you see the little door and window on the fairy house? Divine. I don't deserve such good friendships.

More best pictures ever

Here are more shots from our family photo session with Missy. There are so many beautiful ones, I don't know if I'll be able to limit myself on posting them. Ewan does this a lot to Missy when she gets the camera out, he just makes faces and acts so goofy. But I love the look of sheer joy on his face in these pictures. He looks so happy and like he's having so much fun. Fynn just takes my breath away. And Corgan, we just love him so, poor thing was cold and wanted to be somewhere warm. I really like these, especially the fun, unplanned ones where the boys' personalities show through.

Six Years

Today is our sixth anniversary. I am so unspeakably grateful for Bryce and all the things we have been through together - good and bad. I love our beautiful family and how hard Bryce works to take care of us, and that he loves me even though I have a chin that rivals the captain of the Axiom (see Wall-E). For fun, I'd like to give a brief retelling of how we met and became this little family full of handsome little boys.

Bryce was about to go on his mission at the age of 21 when I first saw him give a talk in sacrament. I was coming off of a very bad "relationship" - bad guy, bad circumstances, and was at a very low point. I liked Bryce but I needed to be in a better place, and the last thing I was interested in was a guy who was about to take off for two years. I was 23, and felt like an old maid. (Being LDS can do that to a young girl.) But he started giving me rides to activities and dances, where we'd sit on the side and talk about how we didn't like to dance, make fun of the line-dancers (no offense) and how glad we were there was someone to talk to. Our first and more important bond came from the Walmart game. (Ask and I'll explain.) Before we knew it, we were spending every spare moment together. From June to September, we had so much fun and knew there was no other choice than for me to try to wait. And I did. When the letters from Bryce became a little scarce, I did date others and had lots of fun making out with other boys. He says I Dear Johned him, I say he's smoking crack. Anyway, we made it through the two years. He came home in September 2002, and we picked up right where we left off.

We were married at the Dallas temple on January 25, 2003...

...went on our honeymoon to Oregon - Seaside, Astoria, Portland, Cannon Beach...

... in March 2004, we had our beautiful Ewan (unfortunately no tiny baby pics of him on computer)...

...spent three years as a small family, and a few anniversaries just the two of us...

... after enduring three miscarriages to get Fynn here, he made his appearance in December 2006 with his delicious cheeks and full head of hair...

... and we celebrated the arrival of our wee Corgan in October...

... and now here is our little dynasty of Taylor men. Hopefully in three or so years, I'll have some female backup.

Neverland

I am actually pretty sad that life will be returning to normal. It's not that I'll miss the holidays exactly, just being able to visit with family, having Bryce home from work, and just the sense of laze and fun that surrounds the season. Not that there isn't any joy in day-to-day life, but there's also the grind. We've had a lot of fun, and we had two important events this weekend. Corgan was blessed on Sunday, and that afternoon we had Fynn's birthday party. Because I am so incredibly disorganized, I did not get a picture of Corgan in his blessing outfit, which was also worn by Ewan and Fynn. But sometime this week I'll get him back into it just so we can have a record. For now, here are some pictures from last week on a crazy warm winter day, and some from the party.

A grin to make you swoon.

He loved it outside. Both pictures were so good, I couldn't pick just one.

Showing us a tiny rock.

Another swoon.

Ewan is so proud of himself, learning how to swing on his own. He does it all the time now.

Fynn has an obsession with these shoes. His feet looked freakishly big as he was sitting there.

I could not ask for a better big brother for Corgan than Ewan. He loves that baby so much, talks to him all the time, and kisses him so much it's actually a little nerve-wracking. Corgan loves him right back and often gives him the best grins.

Birthday boy!

I'm thankful for our home, but it is so tiny. This isn't even a big party, and there's barely room to move. More people were in the kitchen.

The cake. Again, I didn't plan very well, so the Grover and Elmo were totally improvised from some of Fynn's toys. At least it tasted better than it looks.

Fynn and Ben under the table.

A comfortable way to eat chips and hide from people, apparently.

Peek!

And the funny part... If you've read my blog for any amount of time, you know I'm a little crazy when it comes to animals. When Sarah asked for birthday ideas, I half jokingly said a gerbil. Sarah asked if that would actually be okay, and I said yes, but also as an early present for Ewan so it would be both of theirs. I didn't tell Bryce about it, but said that Sarah was bringing a friend that had been staying with them. When James and Sarah walked in with this huge box, I couldn't stop grinning, and he knew something was up. But he wasn't mad. Thanks, Sarah! And thanks, James, for the Potato Head hideaway idea. Ewan wants her name to be Sophie. I tried to talk him into Piper, but he won't have it. So Sophie she shall remain.