The Bryant Family

Chopped

2012-02-12T20:32:00.000-07:00

Buster and I have a new favorite show to watch together. I've been a fan of "Chopped" on foodnetwork for a while, but it's new to Buster. The premise, if you don't know, is that four chefs are competing for $10,000. They cook three courses, with a time limit, and each course has to include surprise ingredients that aren't given to them until it's time to start. The dishes are judged at the end of each course and one contestant gets "chopped."

It's amazing what they can pull out of thin air. It's really not a good idea to watch it (or anything on foodnetwork for that matter) if you are trying to manage your waistline. But it's fun. We like to pick our favorites, and our least favorites, and see who can guess the winner. I've really been enjoying this nightly ritual.

As we watched it the other night, Buster asked me, "What would happen if they just stood there and wasted all of their time? That would be weird, huh."

I told him I didn't think they would do that because they want the $10,000.

He responded, "Well, if I went on that show I would just stand there and waste all of my time."

"Why would you do that? Wouldn't you want to win?"

His answer: "I couldn't win! I don't even know how to cook anything but a sandwich! And besides, I'm not even allowed to use sharp knives."

How foolish of me :)

A hero and other happenings

2012-02-08T14:28:00.000-07:00

We have a new guitar hero at our house.

His name is Baby and he totally rocks. He's got the look, and the moves.

He's got a thing or two to teach his big brothers.

Because nobody rocks the house like Baby.

Buddy has also gotten to be pretty good at Guitar Hero.

And he's really good at waiting for his turn.

Which is something that maybe Baby still needs to work on.

And, speaking of psychotic tantrums, I took my kids to the aquarium yesterday. We had a really good time too. The crowds were low, the otters were frolicking, and everyone was getting along. Then it was time to leave.

Whoever dreamed up the exit through the gift shop at every attraction is an absolutely evil genius. It pits parent against child in epic battle. This one started almost immediately, with Buster holding up a package of plastic sea creatures.

"Mom! I want this!"

I gave him a very calm, "No, not today. Let's go."

Somehow that harmless reply was the trigger that morphed him from Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. I was suddenly face to face with a shrieking, unrecognizable version of my sweet and adorable middle child. "YOU HAVE TO BUY THIS FOR ME!!!" Shrieked the pint-sized lunatic.

I was shocked. I had never seen anything like this level of crazy from any of my boys. My reply was a stern, "Who do you think you're talking to? Put that down and lets go."

"NOOOO!!! YOU HAVE. TO. BUY THIS FOR MEEEEE!!!" He shrieked even louder, as he bounced up and down for emphasis.

"No, I don't. I'm leaving. You can put that down and come with me, or you can stay here." I know. It was an empty threat. But I had to end the discussion somehow. So I took Baby by the hand (as he was attempting to pick up a few things for himself) and walked toward the exit, with Buddy trailing obediently behind.

Buster shrieked even louder. Then I heard his crying trailing off in the wrong direction. I sent Buddy after him as I waited with my two year-old attempted shoplifter by the exit -- I would not be drawn back into the gift shop if I could help it.

Buddy got him turned in the right direction. Then as they walked back through the gift shop, Buster started to wail, "SHE LEFT US HERE! DON'T YOU KNOW THAT SHE LEFT US HERE? MOM LEFT US HERE BY OURSELVES, BUDDY!!!"

It was so embarrassing. And I felt bad. And I was standing in plain sight.

Buddy appeared from behind the racks looking uncertain about whether he should come back to me alone, or try to get Buster to come with him. I called to Buster. He stopped screaming and came. He tantrummed his way to the car with us. Then as we got in, he asked me whether I would be buying them a treat on the way home......

Baby talk

2012-02-05T21:14:00.001-07:00

Some recent mutterings from Baby:

"Stupid TV."

"Stupid chair."

"Stupid Legos."

"Stupid Super Mario Brothers."

I'm sensing a theme. This has to be House's fault.

Not the dog lover I used to be -- before I had a dog

2012-02-03T23:14:00.000-07:00

You would think that once you house-train a dog, that they stay house-trained. That's what I believed -- until this dog. I don't know if it's because she's stubborn, lazy, or just stupid, but we are now house-training Maggie for the THIRD time. She needs a refresher course every couple of years I guess.

I do not like my dog.

So we are "crate" training her by gating her in the laundry room. The boys keep her company as much as they can. Baby has spent most of the last two days hanging out with her in there.

Yesterday, Buster went in there with Baby for a bit, and then left him with the dog and ran off to play. I thought nothing of it because everything is up very high on a shelf. It's 100% baby proof ...unless the baby's big brother puts him on top of the washer (which I wouldn't have thought he'd have the strength to do, even if I'd ever imagined him doing it).

I was in the kitchen, not at all concerned, when I caught a whif of something....April fresh? I ran around the corner to find Baby on top of the machine with the detergent scoop in his hand, happily coating the room in a thick layer of powder. Poochie was cowering in the corner with detergent in her hair. Her food and water were snowy white. Everything was snowy white. It was a complete disaster -- and SO dangerous! I should have checked on him sooner -- especially when Buster got involved. The kid has a knack for trouble.

An hour of sweeping, mopping, scrubbing, and washing later, the room actually looks better than it has in a long time. I guess I should thank them.

So today I only let Baby in there when Buster wasn't home. He spent the morning with his furry pal, and I checked on him frequently. At one point he decided to take off his sleeper (which was on with zipper in front because Buddy got him ready for bed last night! Yay Buddy!). When I went to check on him, he was wearing nothing but a diaper and a sombrero:

Don't ask me why there was a sombrero in my laundry room.

Snippets

2012-02-01T11:47:00.001-07:00

On Sunday morning I loaded the boys in the tub for a really fast bath before church. You would think that with church starting at 1:00, that we would have no problem getting ready in time. You would be wrong. Give us an extra two hours and we'll show you how to waste an extra two hours.

So with some urgency, I told the boys that there wasn't time to play. Buster responded by grabbing a toy and laying down on his belly to play with it. Buster really knows how to push my buttons.

I quickly got them scrubbed and then told them it was time to get out. Buster and Buddy both were just pitching into their protests when Baby said, in a strained and urgent voice, "Poo poo! Mommy!"

You've never seen two boys get out of a bathtub faster. They were in a complete panic. I had all three boys out and wrapped in towels in less than a minute. The best part? It was a false alarm. No poo poo. Baby is awesome.

* * * * *

I'm happy to report that our inaugural Family Home Evening was a hit. The boys loved it. We just might do it again next week :)

Our activity was finger painting. We went down to the blessed craft room, where I spread paper and paper plates of crayola finger paints on the floor. Buddy and Buster got right down to business. Their hands were a mess of paint in no time at all. But Baby is my neat freak. He wasn't about to put his hands in paint. Instead, he laid down on his belly in front of the purple paint and said, "Mouth, Mommy!"

"No! We don't eat the paint Baby. No mouth. Don't put the paint in your mouth."

Then I turned to help Buster with something, satisfied that I had made my position on paint eating crystal clear. Almost immediately, I heard a desperate little voice saying, "Eh! Eh!" I turned to see Baby, still on his belly, with a mouthful of purple paint. Too gross to get on your fingers, but not so gross you can't put it in your mouth, apparently.

I washed him up in the blessed craft room sink and handed him a paint brush.

* * * * *

I had a rare moment of genius in the kitchen! Please don't tell me that everyone else has already thought of this and has been doing it for years, because I was SO proud of myself! Here it is:

You know how when you make something like Lemon Bars, you have to press the crust into the pan? I have always used a measuring cup to press it in. Because I'm a perfectionist about it, this method bothers me. It takes me forever to get it all perfectly flat and even. But I had an inspiration!

I was making a shortbread crust for Almond Roca bars (because the best parts of Christmas should really be enjoyed all year) and was about to press it in with a measuring cup, when it occurred to me that I could get a perfectly flat and pressed crust by using another cake pan! I put a sheet of waxed paper over the crust, inserted another pan into my pan, and pressed away.

Guess what? PERFECTION! It even created a ridge around the outside that was the perfect height to hold in the filling. I've been patting myself on the back ever since. I really have to savor the small victories.

Rewards

2012-01-29T18:22:00.001-07:00

I took the boys to the toy store on Friday to get their animal collectibles -- reward for a month of ten-minute pick-ups and washing dishes. They were excited about earning a collectible, but the choice of reward was more a reflection of Buddy's interests and the influence he has on his little brothers. Buster wanted the animal because his big brother thinks they're the best. But when it came time to choose, each boy found something that was personally important.

After some deliberation, Buddy chose a tiger.

Baby worked his way through the displays, picking up each animal and then putting them back on the shelf and forgetting them. It was clear that an animal wouldn't be right for him.

Buster agonized for ten minutes over whether he should get a polar bear or a grizzly -- two of Buddy's favorites. He was still trying to decide between them when we crossed the store to show Baby a Chuggington display -- his new obsession. Baby immediately chose a "Brewster" train engine and begged me to open it. I knew we had a keeper.

As we looked at the trains, Buster noticed that the next aisle over was stacked with Legos. He forgot all about the bears when he caught sight of the Ninjago sets. He was thrilled when we found a little set for the right price.

So three happy boys walked up to the register, each laying on the counter an expression of himself and his interests. I love what individuals they are.

Baby's little train came with a DVD, which he has watched about ten times already. He watched it again tonight as I sat next to him, planning my first ever Family Home Evening lesson. (Yeah, I get a big fat "F" on Family Home Evening, but I can change.) That's when Baby decided to show me a lesson that I have taught him. After fiddling with the remote and completely messing up his show, Baby, holding the remote backward and pushing all of the buttons he could, growled twice in frustration and muttered, "Dupid! TB!"

It was so hard not to laugh.

Back to square one

2012-01-23T14:12:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how quickly a week can turn into a month, and then into six months. I'm sitting here wondering just how it happened that I stopped running six months ago, when I never planned to stop at all. It wasn't an immediate halt, but a slow taper. I went from three or four times a week, down to one or two. Then it was every other week. Then once a month. And then it became never.

The farther I got from my most recent run, the more the anxiety built. I've spent plenty of time kicking myself for not keeping up with it, planning to start again, putting that off, and worrying about how hard it would be to start over again.

I've had excuses too: I don't have time; I don't feel well; I'm too tired; I'm not in the mood.

So I have often found myself at the end of a long day, sitting alone in front of the TV, eating "fun size" candy bars or something else delicious and self destructive. And I have to say, I really enjoy that time. TV to myself. Quiet. The pleasure of enjoying some candy from a secret stash.

But then there's the guilt. The lack of energy. The scale.

So Saturday night I finally shook off the excuses and squeezed into my workout clothes, turned on The Biggest Loser (such an inspirational show), and jumped on the treadmill. Within three minutes my legs were burning.

I puffed my way through one twelve minute mile. It was really depressing. Last summer I was in the best shape of my life (which compared to an athlete isn't great, but for me was awesome) and now I can barely run a mile. Again.

I'm sore today. It really irritates me that I'm sore from a one mile run. But it's motivating. At least now I know where I am. I don't have to sit around worrying about how far I've slipped from my former fitness. Now I know, I can still run a mile. And it wasn't that bad. I'm not so sore that I can't walk. And I think that if I'd wanted to, I could have run farther. So I'm telling myself that next week I'll be running two miles at a time. And the next week I'll shoot for three. And I'm hoping that by the end of the summer, I'll be ready to run a half marathon. I'm going to give it a shot.

Changes that I am loving

2012-01-16T18:20:00.000-07:00

A while ago I read on the Pioneer Woman's blog that she had bought a laminator. So a while ago I bought myself a laminator too, because I am very impressionable and it seemed like a handy thing to have -- and I came across them at Costco. After making my boys some silly bookmarks for their homework books, I put the laminator in a drawer and it has been there ever since.

I've had a little buyer's remorse.

Enter my new year's resolution to cook for my family. As I sorted through page after page of food-stained recipes I've printed off of the internet, a bulb went on in my head. I have found the best reason ever to own a laminator! I gathered up my favorite recipes, printed off new copies, and laminated each and every one of them. And then I spilled food on them. And then I wiped it off. Best idea ever.

And speaking of resolutions, there are a couple that I am over the moon about. They have revolutionized my home and made me so happy. The first is ten minute pick-up. Who knew ten, or twenty, minutes of everyone pitching in before bed could make such a difference. Suddenly I live in a clean home. The kids are working toward a monthly incentive: a six dollar collectable animal figure. Buddy wants a milkshake too so he's doing a thirty minute pick-up. No more Legos all over the house. No more shoes and socks everywhere. No more mess of any kind. I couldn't be happier.

The other resolution is: She who cooks does not clean up afterward. So I guess this is another resolution that I made for everyone else, but I am pretty pleased with it. I figure if I'm going to spend the afternoon cooking dinner for everyone, they can wash my pots and pans. The boys are taking turns helping dad wash the dishes while I put the food away and wipe up the table. I wonder why I didn't do this sooner?

And last, this isn't a resolution but it has huge potential: Last night we stumbled into a way to make Buster eat his dinner. The child is so stubborn, he usually won't even taste it. He'd rather go to bed hungry than try something he thinks will be gross. It really irritates me. So last night we told him that if he didn't take a bite in the next five minutes he was going to bed. I set the timer.

After crying for 4 1/2 minutes, he finally took a bite. As a reward, I added two more minutes to the timer for his next bite. He liked being able to add to his time. It became a game. With each bite I added another minute to the timer. I started to act frustrated and told him he was going to get to stay up that late past his bedtime, so he ate even faster.

He ate himself up to ten minutes before he'd had enough. It doesn't sound like much, but that's the most dinner he's eaten in a really long time. I'm excited!

So crafty!

2012-01-13T21:00:00.002-07:00

I've done it. I made something I saw on Pinterest! Can you guess what it is?

I'll give you a hint: it's recycled.

Here's another hint: Crayola

Why yes! It is puzzle piece shaped crayons!

You're so clever.

So here's how:

1. Preheat the oven to 250 degrees.

2. Fill one Ikea silicone ice cube tray with crayon bits (I didn't have to break anything, pretty much all we have are bits). You can cut the papers off with a knife to make them easier to unwrap.

3. Some commenters on the blog I read said that their trays melted in the oven. I'm going to bet they used plastic trays or had the oven too hot, but I didn't want to risk it. I put it on a cedar cooking plank to keep it away from hot metal. It worked great, but it made my house smell like a cedar chest.

4. Stare at them while they cook -- because you just know that the minute you look away, the tray will melt and your oven will be ruined -- I'm going to say anywhere from twenty minutes to a half hour.

5. Put them in the freezer. I just stuck them outside. It's pretty cold out there and it worked fine.

6. You have to kind of work them out of the trays -- they don't pop right out. I broke one.

7. Tell your excited children to go away and keep their hands off because something like this needs to be photographed in detail. How else will you receive adequate praise for your mothering?

8. Post pictures like this on your blog later, while your kids wait to be tucked into bed:

so everyone will know what a great mom you are.

And you're done! Well, that's how I did it anyway. Feel free to improvise.

This particular shape was really fun because they actually do fit together:

Yes, after I'd had my fun with them, I handed them over to the kids. They were so excited to color with them.

They had a great time with them for about ten minutes. Then they realized that they're still just crayons and they ran off to play with their Legos.

An incident

2012-01-11T23:16:00.002-07:00

Baby and I spent a leisurely morning strolling around Walmart. As I pushed the cart past the baby section, I spotted a pair of Mickey Mouse pajamas which I held up for him to see -- he's still obsessed with Mickey. His face lit up and he yelled, "WANT THAT!!" as he reached out to grab them.

I wouldn't show him something I wasn't actually willing to buy him, so I handed them to him. He hugged all the way home. Then he went straight to work trying to put them on over his clothes. He finally let me take off his clothes for him, but spent another ten minutes trying to put the pajamas on by himself. Eventually we got them on. He looked so thoroughly pleased. They were a little long so I rolled up the pants a bit and all was good.

Fast forward several hours. I was on the phone with my sister when I heard a crash. I turned to see that Baby's pants had come unrolled and he had slipped on the wood floor. He was laying on his stomach, screaming his head off. He hadn't fallen off of anything or crashed into anything, just a slip and fall. I assumed he was just being dramatic. So I told him to hop up and continued talking on the phone.

Buster is more compassionate than I am. He ran straight to his baby to help him up and give him cuddles. Meanwhile his screaming had reached the point of that long, drawn-out exhale. Just as my sister and I were realizing that he'd probably pass out from crying and I needed to hang up, Buster yelled, "Mom! He's bleeding!"

"What?!" I felt like a total jerk. Yes, at that point I hung up the phone and went to my child. He had landed smack on his nose. Blood was running down his lip and his mouth was full of it. I was so, so sorry for not picking him up right away. I scooped him up and rushed to the kitchen.

Sitting him on the counter, I leaned him back against my arm and watched him. I could see him going. His face got more and more purple as he continued his long, "eh, eh, eh, eh." Then his little body relaxed as his head rolled to the side and he drifted off. It's actually a relief when he passes out because he starts breathing again.

He was in and out, in and out, for a minute or two. It's odd how you can get used to something like that -- not that he does it all the time, but he's done it enough. The first time I completely freaked out. Now it hardly fazes me. In fact, I took full advantage of the situation and started cleaning him up before he could fight me. It felt weird to hold him like that and clean him up while he was so out of it. I kind of felt bad for not feeling panicky, if that makes any sense.

I don't think he hurt anything too seriously. Once we got the bleeding stopped, he was off playing with Buster again. It sure made for a crazy afternoon. From now on we'll be more cautious when he wears his Mickey Mouse pajamas.

Did you hear?

2012-01-07T17:21:00.000-07:00

Martha Stewart's show is getting cancelled. I've never watched it but I still felt a little sad to hear it. It's such an iconic show. She took homemaking to epic levels. And she gave us the best darn mac and cheese recipe EVER.

I came up with what I think would be a great send-off. I want to host a tribute to Martha Stewart lunch. Each guest would be tasked with bringing the most homemade and delicious dish they can come up with. It would be solidly based on the principles of one-upmanship and perfectionism.

Picture us sitting around the table, spread with beautiful homemade delights:

Me: "Excuse me, could you pass me those lovely green beans you brought?"

Guest: "Why certainly, I grew them myself in the raised bed I built last summer. They're 100% pesticide free, raised in my special recipe homemade compost, and they were watered with harvested rain from my cistern."

Me: "Oh, they're delicious! What have you put on them?"

Guest: "Just butter and salt. It tastes ever so much more divine because I made it all from scratch -- nothing store-bought for this girl, thank you very much. The secret is getting to the dairy early to get your pick of milking cows. Then after you've milked yourself a few pails full, gently skim off the cream. Churning the butter is a cinch if you get those first steps right. I'll confess, the salt took a little more patience. It takes weeks to evaporate enough salt water to fill my salt jar. Don't even ask me how I iodized it! But it's all worth it for that flavor -- you just can't get it any other way."

Me: "I know just what you mean. I can taste the love that you poured into each and every bean. Would you like a slice of this cake I made? Do you know much about refining sugar?..."

So who's in? I'm in the process of mashing the pulp to make paper for the invitations. I hope it's not too gauche to use ink left over from my last preparation, but I'm short on time these days. Really, do you know much about refining sugar?

* * * * *

We finally woke up to snow today. We haven't seen much this winter, so it was a happy sight.

Buddy was at his first sleep-over, so the house was a lot more quiet than usual. Buster spent the morning playing the wii while House, Baby, and I took down the Christmas decorations. All in all, it was pretty blah.

Then the power went out. With the wii off, Buster decided to go play in the snow. As the house got cooler and cooler, I took the opportunity to throw on a sweater and some snuggly wool socks. The house was quiet and peaceful, and it felt cozy to be bundled up against the chill in the air.

I watched Buster play until he was ready to come in. Then I lit a gas burner the old fashioned way -- with a match -- and made us all some hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. It was fun to sit at the table with my two little guys, sipping hot chocolate and chatting.

When we finished, I thought I'd add another dimension of coziness by putting a pot of water on the stove and filling it with Christmas spices. In no time at all the whole house smelled like wassail.

Then the three of us played Lego's together. Baby built a space ship of sorts while I built a bear for Buster's lego ninja to ride on. We had such a great time that I was a little disappointed when the power finally came back on. It's nice to have some quiet once in a while.

Stupid new year

2012-01-03T00:09:00.001-07:00

I'm feeling a little cranky tonight. Yesterday I felt energized. My head was swimming with ideas on how to improve myself and make 2012 a wonderful year for my family. Foremost on my mind was to start cooking again. It's something I seriously slacked off on last year, which is probably why Buddy won a school prize for box tops donations -- we ate a lot of frozen pizza and canned soup.

So yesterday I researched meal planning software. After some reading, I downloaded a trial version and created a menu and shopping list for the week. Today I spent two hours grocery shopping, carefully checking off each item on the list -- except cilantro, because stupid Walmart was too stupid to have any.

Sorry, I'll watch my language.

Tonight I prepared a beautiful meal for my family. They gushed with appreciation and praise. It was the most well-received meal I have ever put on the table. I know the food was good, but I think they were more enthusiastic because I'd been crying.

Everything was done. The chicken was out of the oven, the ratatouille was in a serving dish, and the parmesan bread was under the broiler. I had only to make a sauce from the chicken's succulent pan juices, when I absentmindedly grabbed the skillet handle, fresh from the oven, with my bare hand. It was brilliant.

So here I am at midnight, typing a one-handed vent on my blog because it still feels like I'm gripping flaming hot metal. Burns suck.

Do you know what this makes me? A martyr. {dramatic sigh} The things I do for my family.

The dinner really was amazing though. I've made it several times and we all love it. If you want to try it, here's the link.

http://www.foodnetwork.com/ten-dollar-dinners/chic-chicken-dinner/index.html

Just be sure to wear an oven mit.

Highlights

2011-12-29T10:23:00.001-07:00

There are two vacation highlights I forgot to mention, way back when I posted about our vacation. So, because I have better things to do and just don't want to do them, I will post them now.

Highlight One:

As we walked into Universal Studios, I saw a haunted house to our left. Images of Disney's Haunted Mansion came to mind so I suggested, urged, and prodded House take the boys in there while I waited with the baby. After they'd gone in, I asked an employee where the attraction let out and he directed me around the corner. Baby and I strolled around for a minute and then made our way to the exit, where to my horror I beheld a life-size image of the Chucky doll, grinning at me with a giant knife in his hand.

My heart sunk and I wanted to cry knowing that I had unwittingly sent my boys, ages 5 and 7, into the Chucky house of horrors. It wasn't just a fun spook alley, it was a full-on, scare the pants off of you haunted house, complete with Chucky's popping out left and right. My little guys didn't even want to go through an inflatable spook alley during Halloween. I couldn't believe I'd done it. I am so careful about what they watch, and then I handed them over to Chucky.

A few minutes of hand-wringing later, two white-faced little boys walked out with their dad. They looked stunned. Dad had done his best to shield them, but they'd seen enough. I have given my boys the seeds of nightmares for years to come. Mom of the year.

Highlight Two:

Again, at Universal. While the others finished their lunch, I took Baby to the restroom for a diaper change. I really don't like to use public changing tables, so we went to the handicapped stall and I changed him in his stroller. Then I needed to go too. I could see that Baby was going to open the door and leave the minute I sat down, so I strapped him into his stroller.

A more angry baby you have never seen. The little guy launched himself into his biggest tantrum of all time. I watched him with, I'm ashamed to say, bewildered amusement as he got more and more angry. Soon his back was arched over the arm of the stroller, his face was turning purple, and he'd moved beyond screaming to a long, quiet, "eh, eh, eh, eh..."

I urged him to take a breath, but I knew he wouldn't. Baby's big tantrums always end with him passing out. And sure enough, I watched as his little body relaxed into unconsciousness, his head and arm dangling over the side of the stroller.

Then I waited for him to come back. A long ten seconds later, his little eyes fluttered open. His body remained still as his eyes scanned around, groping for clarity. Then he slowly raised his head and sat up. For a few seconds, all was quiet as he got his bearings. Then his face went red and he jumped back in right where he'd left off. All because he had to sit in his stroller.

A little problem

2011-12-26T15:36:00.000-07:00

"'Mom! Look what I can do!' exclaimed Buddy, as he flipped me off with both hands." That was my Facebook post last week. It was too funny not to share. He was really proud of his dexterity -- being able to extend just the middle finger on each hand -- and had no idea what he was doing.

I was so proud of the way I handled it too. I gently told him it was cool that he could do that with his fingers, but that it's not a nice thing to do because of the meaning people have attached to it. It was hard to explain without using words I don't want him saying, but he understood well enough.

I patted myself on the back for a great parenting moment, and we moved on.

Several days later, House was taking Buddy and Buster out to run some errands. The boys were talking in the back seat and I guess they had a disagreement. House checked the rear-view mirror just in time to see Buddy look Buster in the eye and say, "You leave me no alternative" as he deliberately extended his middle finger.

My Christmas Gift

2011-12-21T16:02:00.001-07:00

I found myself in Baby's room yesterday, sitting in his rocking chair with the little guy perched in my lap. He was turned toward me, on his knees, regarding me with a smile on his face. I smiled back at him. He held onto my shoulders with dimpled hands and I held his waste with protective ones. To be there like that was a minor miracle, as the little guy hadn't been willing to rock with me for a very long time now.

I ventured a conversation:

"I used to sit here with you when you were just a tiny baby."

"Tiny? Baby?" he parroted back.

"Yes, and I used to sing to you."

"Sing a you?"

"Yes, and you liked it when I sang to you." He was the only one of my boys who did.

"Like it?" he asked.

Looking over his shoulder at the lullaby on his wall, I was filled with an aching nostalgia and all I wanted in the world was to rock him and sing to him.

So I asked, "Do you want Mommy to sing to you?"

"No, Mommy."

Being two, "No" is usually his answer to any question -- even if he knows the answer should be yes. So I decided to give it a try anyway. I sang him the first line, "Baby's boat the silver moon," looking at his face for a response.

He looked me in the eye and said, "Dop it, Mommy." But he was smiling, so I decided to sing the second line, "Sailing o'er the sky."

And then something magical happened. That adorable, stubborn two-year old wrapped his chubby arms around my neck and laid his head on my shoulder, nestling his little body close to mine. I put my arms around him and began to rock the chair gently forward and back, as I continued singing, "Sailing on a sea of sleep, while the clouds float by."

I held him. I adored him.

"Sail baby, sail, out upon that sea. But only don't forget to sail, home again to me."

It was so lovely to be there with him in that quiet room. It was an ethereal moment, the two of us apart from the world; an opportunity to feel just how deeply I love him.

When I finished the song, he looked up at me expectantly. With pleasure and disbelief I sang another lullaby, as we continued to rock.

Three lullabies later, he lifted his little head and gave me a smile. We were done. The gift of time had been given. The impression was left on my soul.

Being mother to these children is often stressful. I am not always good at keeping my temper, or at perfectly meeting their needs and mine. It can be overwhelming. But it is also the most wonderful blessing I've ever been given. They are the keepers of my heart. I can't imagine my life without them. So I'm most thankful during this season of giving, that I have been given these three wonderful boys.

Gingerbread time!

2011-12-19T15:32:00.000-07:00

This week we made our annual gingerbread house. I decided not to do a kit this year because I hate the royal icing that comes in the kits. You might recall that last year my hand turned into a useless claw, the pastry bag broke, and I frosted half my kitchen trying to squeeze out that icing.

I used this recipe for nasty, flavorless, hard-as-a-rock gingerbread:

2 c. molasses
1 1/2 c. firmly packed brown sugar
1 1/4 c. margarine
9 c. flour
1/2 t. salt

It's a keeper. The dough is easy to work with and the finished product couldn't be broken with a jack-hammer. There was probably enough left over to make another house but I was too lazy. And I'm happy to say that homemade royal icing was a dream to work with -- I even have full use of my hands.

Oops, that's my "messy counter" back there -- the one where we drop everything:

I noticed that the windows -- the only ones I remembered to cut out -- looked like eyes and a nose (thanks to Buddy's wafer), so I added a holly leaf mustache.

I even made sugar glass for the windows. Next year I want to do a bigger house with more windows AND lights inside to illuminate them!

Or we'll go back to using a kit. Who knows.

Whoops, there's another messy counter. My bad.

Ok, all of my counters are messy. But knowing that I can have it all neat and tidy in just fifteen minutes sustains me until I have time to clean it -- and also helps me to procrastinate.

I realized when we went to build the house that we needed a platform to build it on. Good thing we had Little Caesar's for dinner! The underside of this cardboard says, "Hot and Ready."

I like the random placement of candies. There is no rhyme or reason to our gingerbread houses. Trees and stars grow out of the roof as jelly beans teeter at odd angles.

But they sure are fun to make.

Disney Vacation

2011-12-19T13:47:00.000-07:00

We recently got back from our family vacation to Disneyland, not to be confused with House and my escape to Disneyland, without the kids, last month. I'm a little Disneyed out, but we loved it.

When House and I were there in November, we couldn't help but notice that when it comes to wait times, it pays to be handicapped. We kept wondering if there was something we could do, short of personal injury, that could get us into those lines. I know, we are very bad people.

Well, as it turns out, when you purchase your passes through Southern California City Pass, they occasionally forget to activate them. Their failure to activate half of our passes left us standing outside the gates for an hour while a very nice Disney employee, Frances, got it worked out.

As compensation for the long wait, Frances gave us three universal fast passes -- good for the entire family to use the handicapped entrance on any three rides in either park. So we found ourselves in that coveted line. And to be honest, although it was really fun to go on Toy Story three times in half an hour when the regular wait was 40 minutes, we felt like jerks. We were five able-bodied people standing in a line intended for those who needed it. We loved it and felt stupid about it all at once. But if we were offered those passes again, we'd snatch them in a heartbeat.

And now, my vacation slides:

Each morning began with a stop at 7-Eleven so House could get a Super Big Gulp, which Baby appropriated every chance he got:

Does this look like a child who is thinking about running?:

We were waiting in line to meet Goofy. One minute he was sitting patiently on the ground, the next minute he was running as fast as his legs could carry him -- and loving it.

Baby and I spent a lot of time alone together. He was too little to enjoy a lot of the big kid rides so we hung out in Toon Town. That's where I found out I am raising a playground bully. Every time another baby tried to go on this slide, my little bully grabbed them by their shirts and tried to shove them off while shouting, "NO!" at them. It wasn't the least bit embarrassing.

After three days at Disney, we went to the San Diego Zoo. This is a sucker we bought at Disney. We had three, so for most of our trip, Baby had a sucker in his hand, and on his face.

The first Giant Panda I've ever seen in person:

Buddy meets his favorite animal, the Polar Bear.

Day five: Universal Studios -- where I tricked my boys into riding Jurassic Park with me. I'm so evil: "Are there any hills on this ride mom?" "Hmm, I'm not sure. But there are lots of cool dinosaurs!"

Time to watch The Lion King, again. I bought it for the trip. It was a gamble because I was the only one who'd seen it before. I guess it paid off because we watched it at least fifteen times -- and now I hope to never see it again.

Yes, he even took his sucker to the beach:

And finally, this was the view from our hotel room:

Sweet.

Then we drove home. We left at 9:00 am and pulled into our driveway at 9:00 pm. It was way fun.

Isn't it always right after you pass the last decent restroom for a hundred miles that you suddenly and urgently need to go to the bathroom? I was too afraid of getting bitten on the behind by a rattlesnake to go in the desert so I had a nice long wait until the next stop.

We finally stopped in Baker -- home of the world's biggest thermometer and Alien Beef Jerky -- for lunch and facilities. House dropped us off at Arby's and drove off to try the Alien Beef Jerky, because we thought it was too funny to pass up. Then, jerky in tow, he backed into a telephone pole and returned to pick us up.

As we've learned from the Griswold's, it's the little disasters along the way that make a vacation sweet and memorable :)

Excess energy

2011-12-14T15:33:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I'm a little overwhelmed by the amount of energy my little boys have. Occasionally -- no more than fifty times a day -- I feel like I'm at the center of a three-ring circus. So for my sanity, I look for ways to burn off energy. This time the perfect thing fell right into my lap. Thank you Groupon!

A few months ago I jumped at the opportunity to get Buddy and Buster each a two-week unlimited pass to a local climbing center. I gave it to Buddy for his birthday, but we saved it for the Christmas break because two weeks with these boys home all day, every day, when it's too cold to play outside, is just a recipe for disaster.

So today was our inaugural day at the climbing place. I hadn't really thought through the details before I jumped into this one -- like that someone would need to harness them up, tie them on, and hold the rope that would keep them from falling two stories to the floor -- and that someone would be me. Here's how much I know about climbing:

"On belay!"

That's it. My one bit of climbing knowledge is a phrase that I probably don't even know how to use correctly. Not exactly going to keep anyone alive. So I was a little nervous. I kept thinking, "They're really going to let me do this??" and wishing they would just see that I was too incompetent and have someone do it for me.

Fortunately the climbing place is prepared for people like me. So a nice guy spent about half an hour walking me through the basics of keeping my children alive. I even learned how to tie a figure-8 follow-through knot -- doubling my knot-tying skills. And then he walked away and left me to keep my little spider-men on the wall where they belonged.

Clearly it all went well or I wouldn't be blogging about it now. The boys had a great time. Even Baby tried climbing a little. I'm afraid that by the end of these two weeks I'll have to anchor him to the floor or I might have to scramble up a wall after him.

When Buddy received this as his birthday present he wasn't too excited. I guess there's something anticlimactic about receiving a piece of paper for your seventh birthday, that you're told represents a really fun gift that you must wait two and a half months to use. Weird. But I'm happy to say that he now thinks he got a pretty awesome gift. I guess I'm not lame anymore -- at least for today anyway.

Nice to meet you

2011-11-21T11:22:00.001-07:00

Hi, my name is Baby. My hobbies include: saying no, tormenting the dog, climbing on things, and making messes. And when my mom is in the shower, I like to drink toilet water. It's just one of those special treats I allow myself.

Happy Birthday Mickey Mouse!

2011-11-18T09:16:00.001-07:00

According to Wikipedia, which we all know is an unquestioned source of absolute fact, today, November 18th, is Mickey's birthday. Happy 83rd, Mickey!

We actually celebrated on the 16th, because that's when Buddy came home from school with this cute Mickey hat on:

He said that THAT day was Mickey's birthday. Apparently his teacher forgot to consult Wikipedia.

That was also the day that I happened to have bought Cinnabon cinnamon rolls. What could be more perfect? My sweet tooth is completely out of control, by the way. Today I'm hopping back onto MyFitnessPal.com before I have to start buying new clothes.

But that's beside the point. Did you know that Cinnabon has a lot to teach us? If you pay attention there are lessons aplenty.

First: Reverence

Second: Respect

Third: Cleanliness

Fourth: Thoughtfulness

Did I mention cleanliness?

Maybe that's all you can learn from Cinnabon. But they're important lessons. I would be remiss not to teach these lessons to my children by providing them with many, many Cinnabons. And of course, I could always use a little reminder -- or two, or three, or four -- of life's valuable lessons.

Buster chose not to participate in the birthday party. He has croup so he was recuperating in front of the wii. But he was playing Epic Mickey :)

A tale of two messes

2011-11-16T13:22:00.001-07:00

I've been trying to spend more quality time with my boys. So the other night I invited Buddy to help me bake. Looking wistfully at the eggs, he asked me when he might be old enough to crack one. After some thought, I decided to let him give it a shot. So after a quick demonstration, I handed him an egg and told him to give it a light tap on the edge of the counter.

His "tap" was more of a SMACK.

It's sort of pretty, don't you think?

He looked at me timidly, waiting for my reaction. I couldn't help it, I started laughing. We both cracked up. He offered to clean it up but I was sure that would lead to an even bigger mess so I declined.

His second try landed in the bowl with only one little fragment of shell.

* * * * *

I didn't handle this one nearly as well:

I had put Buster's lunch on the table and then turned to do something else. Seeing an opportunity, that wicked Maggie dog stood on her hind legs, grabbed the edge of the plate, and pulled it right off of the table. Tomato sauce went everywhere, including all over her. Somehow a mess is waaay less amusing when the dog makes it. For her own safety, Maggie spent a half-hour yapping in her dog run.

Don't worry, we made friends again while I de-boned a rotisserie chicken. She's never been more apologetic and attentive.

A bad day and caramel popcorn

2011-11-15T16:43:00.001-07:00

Buddy has such a wonderful way of expressing himself. He'd been home for about twenty minutes today when he said, "Mom, you forgot to ask me if I had a good day or a bad day."

"I did? I'm sorry. Did you have a good day or a bad day?"

"I had a bad day. Everyone treated me like dirt. Or like a plant in a garden that's getting stepped on and killed."

Such a sad and melodramatic statement.

We talked about it and it all boiled down to some pretty typical childhood conflicts. I decided that Buddy is a very sensitive plant.

Just when I thought we were done talking, he asked,"What are you going to do to make me feel better?"

What do you do?

I threw out some ideas and he shot them down. So I pulled him onto my lap and gave him a big hug and showered him with kisses while he acted like he was too old for that. It made him laugh but he still claimed it didn't work. Then he very thoughtfully suggested that the wii would probably make him feel better.

The lights went on and it all became so clear. There's a rule in our house that we only play the wii on weekends. The whole thing suddenly felt like a ploy. Then I realized, if Buddy is a plant, he's a Venus Fly Trap.

* * * * *

Have you tried these? I'm wondering if I'm late to the party on this one. These things are awesome! I bought them so I could make Ooey Gooey Caramel Pumpkin Blondies with Chocolate and Walnuts (so good I don't think I should ever make them again -- I pretty much ate the whole pan). But, being me, I didn't bring the recipe or write down how much caramel I needed when I went to the store. So I had an extra bag just sitting in my pantry.

I've been trying to think of something else to do with the extra bag, and today I thought of it. Caramel popcorn! I love that stuff. I love it gooey and soft, not crisp and dry. I thought these would be perfect. It was genius.

I popped two quarts of popcorn, melted the caramels in the microwave (with about 1/4 cup of cream to keep it a little soft), poured it over the corn, and stirred it up. It only took five minutes and it tastes homemade! I'm totally hooked. And I can never buy these caramels again. I ate caramel popcorn all afternoon.

I'm ready to be a celebrity carpenter

2011-11-11T20:21:00.001-07:00

I like the idea of becoming a celebrity carpenter. It's fun to build things. I have dreamed up some pretty amazing built-ins for my house, complete with crown molding, media storage, and hidden computer desks. I think the only thing that's really holding me back from stardom is that I don't know anything about carpentry. But why should that stop me?

As I waded through my storage room on Saturday, busily moving items from point A to points B through Z, just so I could get to the containers for my Halloween decorations, I hit my breaking point. I couldn't stand that there is a room in my house that is so permanently disgusting. Other rooms might get disgusting, but at least there is hope for them. They can be cleaned. There is an "away" to put things in.

When was somebody going to get around to building me some shelves?

Then I had an epiphany. Why couldn't I build some shelves in there? It's not rocket science.

So I went upstairs and told House, "I can't stand the mess in the storage room any more. I'm going to build some shelves today. It'll be easy, and I think it'll cost around fifty to a hundred bucks. It should just take a few hours." And off I went.

I'm a novice, so I found a guy at Home Depot who had some shelf-building experience. He told me exactly what to do, he gathered all of the materials, and he cut everything too. And the cost was only four times my initial $50 estimate. Oops.

I also sort of underestimated my timeline. Rather than three hours, it was more like 15 or so (next time I'll go ahead and purchase a nail gun). But I can't tell you how good I felt about myself for taking on the project. I was covered all over in pride, sweat, and sawdust.

By Monday I was in a frantic push to finish before House and I were supposed to go out of town. That's when my little angels came to my aid. I had to attach the shelving surface to the frames with a million little screws, and my boys jumped right in to fasten each and every one of them. It was such fun to listen to them chatter about what a good job they were doing. And every once in a while they would tell me, "Mom, you made really good shelves." or, "Mom, you've been working very nicely."

With their help I got it done in time to put everything away and take care of all of the laundry, packing, cooking, and last minute child and dog care details for my trip.

Want to see what I did? I'm so glad they turned out the way I pictured them -- my projects so often don't.

Ta da!:

This picture kind of makes them look puny. These babies are huge. And heavy. I know because I hoisted them up myself -- just so I could say that I hoisted them up myself. Yeah, I really proved something.

And even though I still ended up having to cut a few things with a skill saw -- the guy didn't plan perfectly, but he was close -- my only injury was a smashed thumb (one out of a thousand strikes with the hammer landed just a hair south of the target). I think one slightly purple thumb was worth the satisfaction I got from finishing -- because I did it.

I really love that room now.

The first snow of the season

2011-11-05T11:32:00.001-06:00

This morning we woke up to a dusting of snow. It didn't matter to the boys that there were blades of grass poking out of it everywhere. They couldn't get out there fast enough. So while they earnestly tried to scrape together a snowman, Baby and I hopped up in the big kitchen window to watch:

Do you see something wrong with this picture? Give it some thought.

Not sure what he thinks he stepped in...

Did you figure out what was wrong with that picture? It's wrong in this one too. I'm sure you've noticed by now that his sleeper is on backward. Baby is my second toddler to enjoy taking off his jammies, and he recently learned how to undo the tabs on his diaper. It took a few nights of him taking off his jammies, and then crying until I came to dress him again, for me to finally remember the sleeper trick.

I wish I had known about the backward sleeper trick sooner with Buster. There were a lot of very messy nap-time diaper removal disasters before someone told me about it.

Thrilled to discover that he could turn the water on and off:

I made the boys some hot chocolate when they came back in -- Stephen's Candy Cane Cocoa. This naughty mommy makes it with milk and cream so it's extra rich and creamy. Then just to make it extra wicked, I added a tower of whipped cream to each mug. I'm very health-conscious.

I just love his expression:

My awesome dad

2011-11-03T10:09:00.000-06:00

My dad can do anything, except maybe sing -- but he has a really good sense of humor about it. So having retired from an amazing corporate career, he decided to pursue a life-long dream of becoming an artist. He dove right into lessons with my aunt, Joan Peterson, an accomplished artist. Since then, he has spent most of his free time painting in his studio, and now he is an instructor.

This morning he was on Good Day Utah:

If you live in the area of Salt Lake or Utah County and are interested in lessons, his website is:

www.wdavidprice.com

He also has paintings available for purchase there.

The good life

2011-10-28T17:41:00.000-06:00

I lay on my back on the soft shag carpet, taking a breather from a game of Pile On Mom that included all three boys and the dog. As I look around the room, I see the many evidences that the house is occupied by little boys: a small overturned chair, a blueberry juice stain, a large plastic ant, toy cars, a winter boot, plastic spiders. All signs that there are children here.

My view is only slightly obstructed by the big yellow gift bow I have stuck to my forehead. It's right between my eyes. Baby placed it there and he's not ready for me to remove it. I'm in the mood to humor him.

The older boys have taken their wrestling match to the other side of the room, but Baby isn't done playing with me. I'm not ready to walk away either. So I stay on the floor and let him jump on me. He stands next to my side and drops his little diapered bottom onto my chest with a laugh. I answer with a laugh. It doesn't hurt. Then he stands up and dives across my belly and I tickle him until he gets up to do it again.

Whenever the bow falls to the floor, Baby picks it up and replaces it with a grin. Then he lays on me, peering into my face, and laughs. I recognize the moment for the gift it is and try to soak in every bit of it. I want to freeze time. I try to memorize the look on his sweet baby face, and the sound of his joy.

Then he runs off and I think our game is over. I roll over and pet the dog -- who has been loyally sitting by my side the entire time. Suddenly out of nowhere, Baby appears with a toy car and starts "driving" it up and down my belly. We both burst out laughing.

It's heaven.

Baby is two!

2011-10-24T09:09:00.000-06:00

Baby had his birthday this weekend. He was adorable. We took him to the zoo, grandma came over with a gift, his birthday dinner was a Happy Meal (which the boys insist is Baby's favorite dinner), and we ate a fabulous ice cream cake that I had no hand in creating. So even Mom had a great time for Baby's birthday.

Pictures:

When Baby is riding the carousel, Mommy is not allowed to lay one protective finger on him to keep him from falling off. He has to do it all by himself. He even swats at my hand if I put it behind his back -- not touching him.

Grandma got him the singing and dancing Mickey Mouse. Mommy got him Rexy, who makes a little roar when you compress the air pillow in his tummy. So far all Rexy has done is watch while Baby plays with Mickey Mouse. Mommy is so lame. Not to worry, I'm fine with it. Of course I can't expect to always give the best gift. It's totally cool. I just can't make any promises about replacing the batteries when Mickey stops singing.

You know I'm kidding, right? It's fun to watch him play with "Mouse." And he actually does like his dinosaur.

"Sure, he sings and dances. Sure it's cool. But I'm sure glad mom got me a stuffed dinosaur that does nothing. Toys that do nothing are waaaay better."

I picked this baby up at Baskin Robbins on Saturday night. I walked in at about 9:30, hair frizzing out of a pony tail, little chocolate finger prints on my pants, no make-up. I looked really hot. The place was full of couples. Couples alone, couples with children... many, many couples. And all of the women looked good. It was such a mommy moment. But totally worth it for the chocolate and Oreo cookie deliciousness.

He liked being sung to:

He did his best to blow out the candles. House and I were both impressed that he even knew what we wanted him to do. In the end, he needed a little help from Dad to get them out.

It was secret help. He was very pleased with himself.

Now, not to take the spotlight off of Baby, but I have to mention something. While we were at the zoo we came upon some Howler monkeys where the Colobus monkeys should have been. While House and I were busy being bewildered about the change, Buddy announced very confidently, "Those are New World monkeys."

"What?" House and I both asked, as we looked at him, and then each other with questioning smiles.

"Those monkeys are New World monkeys."

"How do you know they're New World monkeys?" House asked.

"Because they can swing by their tails. New World monkeys can swing by their tails, Old World monkeys can't."

We were speechless. To be honest, it sounded a little familiar so I know that I read that to him from his Encyclopedia of Animals, but I really didn't remember a word of it.

I looked it up just to see if he was right. Sometimes if Buddy doesn't know something, he will invent information and present it as fact because he likes to be an expert. But guess what? He was 100% right. So now I'm wondering what else he's got in that head of his. We have read him that encyclopedia from cover to cover and I guarantee you, House and I don't remember a word of it. All I can say is, I hope they have a lot of tests about primates in first grade because that kid will ace them.

Baby is almost two

2011-10-19T11:43:00.003-06:00

This age is so maddeningly adorable. The little guy is set to turn two this week. In preparation for the big event, he has been earnestly practicing all forms of mischief.

It's early in the day -- not even noon -- and I already feel like I've got a complete blog post worthy of my "mayhem and destruction" tag.

I'll start with the adorable before we get to the terrible -- because that's the order Baby went in. First off, he spent about ten minutes this morning imitating the dog. She put her paws in my lap and nuzzled her head in my hands, so Baby did the same. He pawed at my belly and begged for a pat with a big grin on his face. When she ran away, he crawled after her. He copied her every move faithfully. It had us all laughing. The little guy loves to make us laugh.

When we dropped Buster off at preschool, Baby insisted on bringing his toy vacuum. He does it every time lately. It's so cute to see him walking down the street, pushing his vacuum. Today we had only made it 1/4th of the way there when he decided he and his vacuum needed to be carried. So for the rest of the way there and back I juggled Baby, his vacuum, and the dog -- who I couldn't see because she insisted on walking under my feet. Not quite so adorable.

When we got home, he decided to pull a chair up to the counter and throw everything on the floor. This might sound like terrible parenting, but I allow him to do this because it's an easy clean-up and it keeps him occupied while I work on other things. So I wasn't paying much attention to him as he ransacked the "odds and ends" cupboard.

When I did decide to check on him a couple of minutes later, I was horrified to discover that he had found a black marker and was busy coloring on my wall. He had already decorated both cabinet doors and the counter. I felt my culpability in the disaster. So I took the marker and sent him off to find the dog while I cleaned up the mess.

As I was scrubbing away with a well-used Mr. Clean Magic Eraser, Baby did exactly as he was told. He ran off to find the dog. I didn't notice that he took his uneaten bowl of oatmeal with him.

By the time I discovered him, Maggie's beard was full of sticky, gooey oatmeal.

We managed to have a couple of quiet hours after that, as I spent the entire time with him. But the minute I walked away, he found a full box of Cap'n Crunch in the pantry, took it to my bedroom, and scattered it throughout the entire bedroom and bathroom. He was impressively thorough. It was in every corner, and even under the furniture.

Why does destruction take so little time when clean-up takes forever?

So we are having a bit of a day. I think it is a glimpse into the future, as this child becomes more and more curious and busy. I'll take all of the adorable I can get, but I hope the naughty will be at a minimum. Can we at least be done with it for today?

Yes, I have my eye on him as I write this. I've learned my lesson, for now.

* * * * *

It's four o'clock. Baby has a runny nose. Dog food crumbs cling to the perspiration on his scalp and forehead. He has a smudge of chocolate on his mouth. He's walking around the house, peaking over the top of a view-master -- looking for a smile that tells him he is indeed adorable. I give him a smile and he walks away with a grin, nearly crashing into the banister because his view is still obstructed.

Mommy is too tired to clean him up just yet.

He has gotten a lot done since I posted this morning. He has danced on the counter-tops, and been removed, many times. He has upended the kitchen garbage can -- it was full, and then it wasn't. He has poured dog food on the floors of three different rooms, and practiced pitching it at the dog. While I made him and his brothers cookies, he pulled a stool over to my bookshelves where he helped himself to my Kindle.

I can't keep up with the kid. Baby is doing his best to find a place in the Terrible Twos hall of fame. It's a good thing he is so irresistibly lovable. And to his credit, he helped clean up the dog food.

Who am I kidding? The cookies were for me. I needed them.

Wild kingdom

2011-10-11T09:39:00.001-06:00

So, if you've followed my blog at all, you know that there were a couple of snake incidents last summer (read here and here) that I maybe didn't handle very well. When I found myself face to face, or potentially so, with a huge, vicious serpent, you might say I was little bit of a coward.

Well, last week the vile creature made another appearance. And this time, I was not a coward.

Baby and I were on our way down to meet Buddy at the bus stop. We were just walking past the neighbor's yard, only a few feet beyond our own, when a sudden movement made me stop in my tracks. I had seen something out of the corner of my eye that seemed awfully snaky to me. Baby and I stopped to investigate, and there he was. That nemesis of old. That nasty old snake was just a few feet away from us.

Knowing that Buddy would be crushed if he didn't get to see the snake, I did what any good mother would do. I stood guard and waited for his bus to come. When he finally started coming up the street I hollered at him like a lunatic, "RUN! RUN! YOU HAVE TO HURRY! A SNAKE! I FOUND A SNAKE!" I know he saw me waving my arms, but I think what he heard resembled an adult in a Charlie Brown movie. He just sauntered along, blissfully ignoring me. That is, until he got close enough to understand the word "snake." Then we saw some hustle.

You won't believe what happened next. You WON'T!

Knowing just how much Buddy would love to hold that snake, and knowing that I have actually held one before and I didn't die, I got down on my hands and knees and attempted to catch it. I was just brave enough to pinch its tail end, but then I freaked out and let go. That happened three times. Then Buddy stepped in and caught it on his first try. Catching snakes is boy's work anyway.

While he held the giant beast by its tail, I ran in the house and grabbed the first container I could -- a plastic pitcher. We'll call it a sacrificial pitcher, as I had no intention of keeping it after we set the snake free.

Are you curious about the monster? Good! Because I grabbed my camera too. Here he is; the beast:

Don't let its size fool you. It was enormous.

Buddy and Buster took turns holding it, and Baby was obsessed with looking at it.

Then we let it go. We put it in the back yard because I think he lives in the backyard neighbor's garden. See you next summer, Snaky.

* * * * *

Part two of Wild Kingdom, happened on Sunday. Again, if you've followed this blog for a while, you know that we used to have a cute little dog named Maggie. You also know that I had a love/hate relationship with her, as she yapped my babies awake from naptime and poochied up my house. But that wasn't the reason we finally gave her away. It was that we don't have a fenced yard. We didn't want to see the little pooch get hit by a car. So we found her a home at poochie paradise -- a half-acre yard with a poochie sister to play with.

Well, on Sunday after church we got a call from poochie paradise asking us to take her back. What could we do? We couldn't let them pass her off on someone else and never know what happened to her. And the kids have missed her SO much. And, ok, I was a little excited about having her come home. So within five minutes, House and I had decided to fence the yard and bring our little dog home.

Paradise was so anxious to return her that there was a knock on the door twenty minutes later and in pounced the furry beast, who I never would have recognized. She always had a schnauzer cut at our house. They didn't care much for that apparently, because this is what ran into our house:

She hadn't had a haircut since we gave her away a year and a half ago.

We were surprised just how happy she was to be home. For at least twenty minutes she was frantically wagging her bum and climbing all over us. The boys had to be told who she was before they got excited, but they haven't wanted to leave her side ever since. It was such a happy homecoming.

Poochie had a spa day yesterday and is back to her old self again:

Here's a side-by-side:

So I guess we are dog owners again. It was sudden, but we've all settled so quickly back into our old routines that two days later it feels like she was never gone. The love-fest will end the first time she yaks on my carpet. But until then, we are so happy to have her home!

An opportunity for personal growth, that didn't involve cookies

2011-10-03T13:00:00.003-06:00

Most of my growth opportunities do involve cookies, or cake, or doughnuts... But once in a while I like to challenge myself. I take a giant step out of my comfort zone and do something potentially humiliating -- like sing a solo in church. It scares me to death. But it's sort of a good scared. It's the kind of terror that leaves me feeling like I've accomplished something good. And that maybe I can do scary things.

So last Sunday I sang a solo in church. I'm able to talk about it now that I've had a week to process. It was terrifying. I arrived early to practice one last time before Sacrament Meeting. I was so amped up. I was pitchy and shaking the first time through -- and I only had an audience of five. The second time through was a little better. I wasn't pitchy and I managed to calm down a bit. Then it was time to take a seat and wait.

As I sat there, I noticed that my breathing was a little fast. I kept telling myself to get a grip. I concentrated on breathing in and out slowly and deeply. It made me a little light-headed. So I started to pray. I asked for focus and calm. I asked for help in sharing my testimony of Christ through music. I asked that people would hear the words and feel the truthfulness of them. And then I dedicated my song to Him, and asked Him to accept it as my testimony.

After I was done praying, my breathing calmed. I was able to focus on the speakers and hear their wonderful talks. And when my turn came, I didn't hyperventilate. I felt fairly calm as I walked to the microphone.

The first few measures were a capella, and I managed to sing them with only one slight squeak of nervousness. And when the piano came in, I was right where I needed to be. The rest of the song went as smoothly as I could hope. I was still nervous, but I felt like I had control over it. And when it was over, I felt like my prayer had been answered. I was so happy. It is a wonderful feeling to have accomplished something so intimidating.

I'm so grateful that there are people who have the talent to put into words the feelings I am unable to express:

How Can I Keep From Singing
Words: Attributed to "Pauline T."
Arrangement: Sally DeFord and James Loynes

My life flows on in endless song, above Earth's lamentation.
I hear the sweet though far-off hymn that hails a new creation.
Through all the tumult and the strife, I hear the music ringing.
It finds an echo in my soul,
How can I keep from singing?

What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord, my Savior liveth.
What though the darkness gather round?
Songs in the night He giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to that refuge clinging.
Since Christ is Lord of Heav'n and Earth,
How can I keep from singing?

I lift mine eyes, the cloud grows thin, I see the blue above it.
And day by day this pathway smooths, since first I learned to love it.
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart, a fountain ever springing.
All things are mine since I am His,
How can I keep from singing?

Journey to South America

2011-09-24T20:03:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I found Buddy and Buster and their little friend crouched in the pantry, filling ziplock bags with Craisins and cereal. They told me they were packing snacks for a hike to South America. I smiled as they loaded their baggies into Buddy's backpack and set off on their journey, with the promise to not really walk to South America and to stay close to home.

About half an hour later I decided to go out and see how they were faring. That's when I discovered that South America was a little bit farther from home than I had anticipated. I couldn't find them anywhere. So I loaded Baby into the bike trailer and we set off on our own quest to discover South America.

After exploring the neighborhood for twenty minutes, and checking with all of their friends, I started to feel a little frantic about just where they might have gone. Just as I truly started to panic, the three little explorers re-appeared, grinning from ear to ear.

They were so excited about their trip. They couldn't wait to tell me about the big, white goose that they had met in South America -- on the busy road that they're never supposed to go near. The smiles disappeared when I told them how much they had scared me.

"Are we in trouble?" Buddy asked.

"Yes. You are in trouble."

"We're in trouble?!" Buster asked, bursting into tears. "But how do we get un-in-trouble?" he wailed.

They scrubbed and picked up for the next hour until they were officially un-in-trouble. I was sorry to punish them, but it had to be done. They know now that South America is too far away for kids their age. Next time they won't travel any farther south than Arizona.

* * * * *

Today I replaced a garbage disposal all by myself! Well, mostly by myself. I did have to borrow House's muscles a few times. But I did the rest myself! It took me four hours because of my weak, girly arms and lack of plumbing and electrical skills, but that sucker is in, it works, there are no leaks, and nothing caught on fire. I'm so proud!

Baby sat by my side with his Bob the Builder screwdriver, helping as much as he could. Each time I grunted with the effort of loosening a stubborn screw, Baby would reach his dimpled little hand into the cabinet and jam his plastic screwdriver into the pipes, uttering a grunt to match mine. The little guy worked very hard.

A photo field trip

2011-09-20T17:33:00.000-06:00

This post is late in coming, as the photo field trip actually took place in July, but I only just finished the editing today. Editing isn't my favorite. I spent all of last night editing Megalosaurus. When I finally went to bed, the beast stood there glaring at me every time I closed my eyes. The image was seared into my brain.

Now that I have the photos, I thought I'd share them. Maybe Megalosaurus will stare at you tonight too.

But first, should I tell you about the field trip? Maybe so you know what I'm talking about? I think so.

Back in July, when we made the brilliant decision to put the boys in separate bedrooms, I also decided to let them personalize those rooms with the theme of their choosing. Buddy chose animals (of course), and Buster chose dinosaurs. Any other year, dinosaurs would have been a tall order (har har), but the timing couldn't have been more perfect. The zoo had animatronic dinosaurs this summer! So we took ourselves on down to the zoo one beautifully overcast day, and took ourselves some pictures:

Don't tell Buddy, but I prefer the dinosaurs. Now to get them printed! This do-it-yourself project might cost us a small fortune.

Oh, and there's one more picture. We didn't take this one at the zoo, but both boys are insisting on having it into their rooms. I will probably have to veto this one -- even if I am the one who took it. I have a hard time looking at it.

I'd have to throw a shoe at it every time I went in their bedrooms.

Today

2011-09-13T20:47:00.000-06:00

Today I was a super mom. Well, not for the whole day. For like, ten minutes of the day. The rest of the day I was pretty average. But I feel REALLY good about those ten minutes that I was a super mom.

To begin with, I "allowed" the boys to get Baby out of his crib this morning so I could get a little more sleep. Then I let the little guys watch Mickey Mouse in my bed while I did my best to be unconscious. I have a little cold so I felt justified. That wasn't the super mom part.

When we all crawled out of bed at ten, I gave them each a bowl of cold cereal. They had already been filling up on cookies and crackers, but we needed to go through the motions of breakfast in order to ease my conscience. That was also not the super mom part, but it's coming.

Two hours later I fed everyone Ramen noodles for lunch. I was their hero. Their cheers were a salve to my guilt about the lack of nutrition. Not quite a super mom moment, but at least the boys thought I was awesome.

After Baby went down for a nap, I decided that I had a hankerin' for some country music. What can I say? Sometimes the mood just strikes. So I turned on my country playlist and cleaned the kitchen. It felt good to get moving. It got me prepped for my moment of greatness.

Now here it is, the moment you've been waiting for. My moment of motherly glory: the boys asked me to make lemonade and I... said YES. How crazy is that? No applause, please.

{chirp} {chirp} {chirp}

Ahem. Maybe you don't understand. We're talking about the real stuff here. Lemonade that requires the squeezing of lemons. Super mom, no?

Yes.

Here are some pictures to tell the story of this mother of the year (and just to prove that it happened):

I was busy cutting and squeezing lemons when the boys started to giggle. I looked up to find that they had made themselves hats out of lemon bags.

Mmm. SO good.

This little guy had a run-in with a treadmill at his friend's house last week. It was one of those times where I not only wanted to say "I told you so," but I felt morally obligated to point out that I told him so. Treadmills aren't toys, people! Let this be a lesson to you, or I'll have to tell you so too.

"I declare this lemonade to be delicious!" Or alternately, "I declare my mom to be the greatest mom of all time!"

Ok, I'm laying it on a little thick. So here's the truth. The first part of the lemonade making was fun. I had my mellow music on, the boys were adorable and fun, and we were having a good time together. But it takes a lot of time to squeeze a cup and a half of lemon juice with a little hand press.

Half way through the lemonade making, the boys started to get rowdy. My hands were covered in lemon juice and I was tripping over children. Something obnoxious, full of electric guitars and screaming, had snuck its way into my peaceful playlist. The noise and commotion were too much. I kicked everyone out for "driving me crazy" and finished the lemonade by myself.

Am I the only one who can't make it all the way through a togetherness activity without snapping?

I invited them back when it was done and we all had fun drinking it together. That was sort of a super mom thing too -- you know, because I served it to them on ice with a fancy lemon slice on each glass -- so I guess I was a super mom twice today. Awesome!

He's musical!

2011-09-07T11:07:00.001-06:00

When I went to get Baby from his bed this morning I found him singing to himself. I opened the door just a crack and peeked in. Baby was on his back with his feet propped up on the crib rails, Mouse at his side and Blanky piled high on his stomach. I stood there unseen, listening through one more chorus of "Ya ya YAAA! Da da DA-DAAA!" before he saw me and stopped.

Afterward I wished that I'd had my camera with me. I didn't have to feel badly about it for long, Baby treated us all to an encore after breakfast.

Doughnuts, kids, and doughnuts

2011-09-01T13:12:00.002-06:00

Why don't I ever remember, while I'm loading up at Costco, that my fridge is full? And why is it that my fridge is full and yet there's nothing to eat? How can one small family have so many condiments?

Burning questions.

So where do you put your doughnuts when there's no room left in the fridge? (Because if you leave them out on the counter the frosting gets all melty and you just hate that.)

I was lucky enough to find a nice, big, empty spot for my dozen Dunford chocolate doughnuts. All I can say is, I'm so glad that we don't have any fruit!

What? You carefully zip each doughnut into it's own sandwich bag, making sure to squeeze out all of the air, too? You have some serious doughnut issues.

* * * * *

I've been meaning to write about my newly adopted child for a while now but haven't found the time -- I guess this is my chance. I didn't set out to adopt. I was really happy with three. So it came as a surprise to me when Baby adopted himself a brother and I found myself a mother of four. Here's a photo of Baby and his new sib:

Baby and Mouse go everywhere together. Of course, their favorite thing to do is to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse together -- as they are doing here. Mouse also loves to go to Costco and ride next to Baby in the shopping cart. Those double carts are so handy!

He's there for the fun, but I have to hand it to Mouse, he sticks around for the bad stuff too. Baby woke up at about 1:30 this morning and threw up all over himself and Blanky. Mouse was right there to comfort him -- we were lucky that he was on the other end of the crib. So I cleaned Baby up, found him a replacement blanky, and put him and Mouse back to bed.

I had just enough time to start the washing machine and wash my hands when I heard him crying again. That second time was a doozy, but Mouse still stuck around and came out unscathed. I decided they'd better sleep with me.

Baby sure is cute. So cute in fact, that he managed to make me smile even while waking me up half a dozen times during the night to talk about Mouse, or to identify my nose, or Mouse's nose, or the bed, or his foot, or an eye, or my pillow, or... whatever was on his mind.

We gave up sleeping at quarter to seven, which has given me extra time to think about those doughnuts. I have held out for six hours now, but the time has come.

PS: Look who else is sick, but putting on a brave face:

That's the best smile the little guy could muster as he fought the temptation to rest his head on the counter.

Animal Diplications

2011-08-22T22:15:00.010-06:00

It was after reading Buddy his chosen bedtime story -- two pages about bats in his encyclopedia of animals -- that I heard about his plans for the future:

"Mom, I'm so excited for when I become a documentary filmmaker! Do you know what the name of my show is? It's Animal Diplications."

"Animal what?"

"Animal Dip-li-cations."

"Honey, I'm not sure what you mean. Animal what? What does diplications mean?"

"It means animals that are awesome. Animal Diplications."

Then he ran to the giant map that hangs on his wall. It's a fun map I picked up at Costco that shows cartoon pictures of animals in every region of the world.

"On my first day, I'm going to Africa." He told me as he circled his finger around the entire African continent. "I'm only going to film animals that are awesome, like lions and hyenas and..." and he proceeded to point out every awesome animal -- every predator in Africa.

"My documentaries will include nineteen animals. How many have I said?"

I felt like I'd just been caught sleeping in class. I was listening, I just didn't realize I was supposed to be counting too.

"I don't know honey, I wasn't counting."

"Oh. Well, on the first day I'll do Africa. Then I'll do animals of the ocean." And he started pointing to, and naming, all of the awesome animals in the Atlantic ocean.

He might have felt like he hadn't adequately made his point about only including awesome animals, because then he went back to Africa, pointed out a poor little loser of a warthog, and said he wouldn't be doing lame animals like warthogs. Poor Pumba.

He turned to me and with wonder in his voice, said "I can't believe I'm going to get to travel to every continent!" Then he pointed to each continent on the map, "I'm going to get to go to Australia, and Africa, and Asia, and South America, and North America!"

Watching his excitement, my heart swelled with joy and hope for him. There was nothing I wanted more than to see his dream come true. My eyes got teary as he swept his little six year-old hand across the atlas exclaiming, "I'm going to travel across the whole world!"

He grinned at me. He was radiant. His happiness was infectious. I was overcome by it.

I smiled back at him and told him I thought that would be wonderful, as I wiped a tear from my eye.

Then he told me about how he plans to get his footage, "Sometimes there are bushes that are close to the animals. So I can hide in the bushes and they won't see me."

I suggested that maybe he could take his kids with him when he goes to Africa. He was nice about it, like he was embarrassed for me for having such a dumb idea. Then he politely shot it down because the kids might get eaten.

He asked if I would be sure to record his show when it comes on. I promised to record every episode, and buy them too. Then he invited me to visit him any day of the week except Monday and Friday because on those days I should be at home watching his show.

Then we said prayers and I tucked him in. He smiled again and said, "I can't believe I'm going to get to be a documentary filmmaker."

"I know, Buddy. It's going to be so cool." I kissed him and walked toward the door.

"Mom? Be sure to remember that I'm going to be a documentary filmmaker, ok?"

"I'll remember buddy. I'm going to go write it down, just to be sure."

Then, just as I was closing the door, he called out, "And remember that Buster is going to be a store owner and he'll give you a quarter for shopping there every time you go in."

July retrospective -- a photo overload

2011-08-16T21:30:00.003-06:00

Don't worry. I don't plan to cover the entire month of July in detail -- just the highlights; every last second of the highlights. Under a microscope.

Oh, relax. If you know me at all, you know that I can't even remember yesterday in detail.

So to begin with, do you remember the Fourth of July? We spent it at my parents' house this year. I dressed Baby in his most patriotic shirt:

It has stars and stripes and everything! I believe this was one of Betsy Ross' original designs for the colonial flag. I don't know why she abandoned the giant tongue. I guess that's a detail that is lost to history.

For as far back as my memory goes, and probably a lot farther, my family has observed the hallowed Independence Day tradition of marching around the house, waving flags, to the marches of John Philip Sousa. My dad always leads the march.

As kids, this was our favorite part of the holiday. We pulled out the flags first thing in the morning and begged our parents to start the parade. We were less enthusiastic as we got older. By the time we were teens, the tradition had been abandoned altogether -- because by then it was humiliating. It's good to see it revived for our kids.

After lunch at Mom and Dad's, we all headed over to a splash park.

And that's it for the fourth.

We are zoo boosters this year, therefore we have 10,000 pictures of the kids at the zoo. Here is a sampling:

Buster was chosen to participate in the bird show. He held out a handful of seeds and the bird flew to him and landed on his arm. I thought it would freak him out but he handled it like a stoic -- even when the bird jumped on his head.

We ended our month with a little trip to Park City. My parents had a time-share at the Marriott for the week so they invited us up for a couple of days. Being naturally gifted in the frugal arts, I took the opportunity to pass this free weekend off as a special birthday vacation for Buster. We made a big fuss over him all weekend. He even got to choose his own cake at Walmart!

House was in the bedroom trying to get the baby to sleep, so he missed the party. Baby wasn't accustomed to sleeping in the porta-crib. He was very patient, no fussing, but he wouldn't lay down. He stood there watching us for two hours, repeating the word "out" like a broken record.

We tried to go on the Alpine Slide while we were up there, but the line was over an hour long. Instead we decided to:

1. Make funny faces

2. Jump on a trampoline with bungees.

3. Climb the monkey tower.

4. Slide down the monkey tower.

5. And climb the rock wall.

So in spite of the long line at the slide, I think we can count this birthday a success.

I also employed the frugal arts in the purchase of his gift: a used bike I picked up for $20. He didn't know the difference. Is that bad?

"I speak Baby"

2011-08-07T15:58:00.004-06:00

My boys have always claimed a special means of communication with their baby brother. From the time he was born, they have told us time and again that they are both fluent in "Baby." It was an advantage that they had over us for the longest time.

Not anymore!

After spending almost two years in the Buddy and Buster Bryant Language Immersion Program, I am happy to announce that I finally speak "Baby" (I'm using quotes here so you don't confuse "Baby," the language, with Baby the baby). It was a difficult journey, but I'm here. And now I'd like to help you all with some useful phrases. I have a feeling you'll pick it right up:

English: "How are you, Baby?"
"Baby": "How-ee are-ee you-ee, Baby?"

I should have mentioned that "Baby" is a tonal language. You'll be completely misunderstood if you don't go up an octave when communicating something positive. You could inadvertently tell a baby that he smells like poopy diapers -- a serious taboo in baby culture. You have to really squeak. I'm sorry. I really should have started off with that. So let's try another phrase. We used this one earlier this afternoon:

English: "Do you want some popcorn, Baby?"
"Baby": "Do-ee you-ee want-ee some popcorn....ee? Baby?"

That was a tricky one, huh? Did you notice that there is a pause before the "ee" in popcorn? "Baby" is a subtle language. It takes some practice but you'll get there. I think this should be enough to get you started at least. Let me know if you'd like some tutoring. I'd be happy to lend you either or both of the boys.

As for that Buster birthday post....I'm getting to it. I'm just a little behind with my pictures.

A birthday

2011-08-02T14:23:00.000-06:00

Young Moses, er, I mean Buster turned five this weekend. More to come when I have time. I just couldn't resist posting this picture. Don't you kind of expect him to come down with stone tablets?

I said he was CLOSE to perfect...

2011-07-28T09:43:00.013-06:00

Does this look like the face of an angel or what?

For the purposes of this post, we'll call it a mugshot. There's never a dull moment with Baby around.

Yesterday I decided to clean out my storage room and sell the stuff we no longer need. As I worked on getting everything ready to sell, Baby did everything in his power to get my attention. He was everywhere. It was cute, and exasperating. Finally, in a desperate attempt to distract him, I handed him the phone to play with. It was clipped to my back pocket and It's his favorite toy so....

I know. It was a bad idea.

Half an hour later it was time to get Buddy at the bus stop. I absently took the phone from Baby and hung it up, leaving it on the living room couch. Then I carried Baby out to the garage and loaded him in his stroller. We were about to leave when I realized I'd forgotten my sunglasses. I could hear the phone ringing as I ran inside the house but couldn't remember where I'd put it down. Oh well. Grabbed the sunglasses and ran back out the door.

A policeman drove by as we walked down the street. I waved and kept on going. He waved and kept on going...to my house.

He parked.

He got out and walked up my driveway.

As he stuck his head in my open garage and looked around, I hustled back to my house to see what was going on.

Have you guessed yet what Baby did to distract himself?

Apparently I hung up on 911 when I took the phone back from Baby. The call I missed was dispatch asking if we were ok. I felt so bad. It was lucky for us the officer was nice and didn't lecture me. We chatted for a minute. He told me about his grand-kids as I apologized profusely and promised not to let Baby get the phone again -- and maybe forgot to mention how he managed to get it in the first place.

On the bright side, can you believe that response time?! Leaves me feeling safe. Sheepish too, but mostly safe.

* * * * *

As for the school bus...yesterday my Buddy started first grade. I can't believe what a long time it is for him to be gone. All day without Buddy makes me a little sad. I don't miss the boys fighting, but I sure miss that little guy and his constant animal facts (like how fast a tiger can bite through a watermelon, or how many feet per second a peregrine falcon can fly). I'm not the only one who's lonely. Buster spent the whole afternoon asking me when Buddy would be home.

Here's a shot of the boys and their friends before school:

They really do think they're funny.

Baby

2011-07-26T11:37:00.001-06:00

Unrelated picture of the world's best baby.

* * * * *

We actually made it to church on time this week. I believe in miracles :) But we weren't on time enough to get a bench so we all filed into a row of folding chairs at the back -- first Buster, then House, then Buddy on one side of me and Baby on the end. We'd been there for about fifteen or twenty minutes, constantly shushing Buddy and Buster, trying to keep them quietly occupied, and being generally distracted, when I had the alarming realization that I hadn't so much as looked in Baby's direction since we'd sat down. His end of the row had been completely silent.

In a panic, I turned to see where he'd run off to and I got the shock of my life. There was Baby, quietly sitting next to me with his hands in his lap....listening? Really? He looked at me and gave me a little smile before turning his attention back to the podium.

"Could this be a Stepford child?" I couldn't help but wonder. "Is this piety? Is he a naturally pious baby? Could he be asleep with his eyes open?" Whatever it was, it was AMAZING!

He stayed like that for half the meeting. He was a perfect child until the closing prayer. I wouldn't let him eat a bag of dried pinto beans he'd found in my bag -- something for the four year-olds to fill a quiet jar with to earn a treat -- so he had a meltdown. So I guess he's not 100% perfect, but he's close.

Progress

2011-07-20T08:05:00.006-06:00

1908 brought the Model T Ford, allowing the average American to take to the roads in their first car.

In 1924, sixteen year-old Philo T. Farnsworth hypothesized that one could transform electricity into pictures by controlling the speed and direction of fast-flying electrons (smartypants). He went on to develop the first television.

July 20, 1969, mankind took his first steps on the moon (happy anniversary!).

These are some of the leaps and bounds of the modern age, but this last event eclipses them all:

July 17, 2011, the Bryant children got their own bedrooms.

Never have two parents experienced such blissful bedtimes as House and I have these last three nights. In fact, last night Buddy was practically begging me to send him to bed at 8:00, and then he put himself to bed without us. There's almost nothing left to get tense about. It's so zen. We're such brilliant parents. We have risen from mediocrity and are now among the ranks of the world's great innovators and achievers. We will serve our spaghetti-o's on fine china now, as befits our station. We are truly amazing people.

Ahhh. Felief!

2011-07-17T22:47:00.009-06:00

I've been feeling tense. Last night I hit my limit. I had to leave the house because I simply couldn't take another minute of trying to get my kids to go to bed. Every threat had failed. For two hours it was one or the other coming out for every reason imaginable. Or they wouldn't come out at all. They'd just stay in their room and make each other scream.

So I left. Well, first I grounded them from the wii for two weeks, thanked them for making it a horrible night, and then I left. I was very mature.

For half an hour I drove around, beating myself up for losing my cool, reminiscing about driving my mom crazy with the same shenanigans, and trying to come up with the best solution that didn't involve boarding schools or military academies. Something had to be done before I completely lost my sanity.

So today, for seven hours, we worked on moving Buddy to his own room. It is unbelievable how much work was required to clear one room for one kid. It wasn't exactly empty. In fact, we could barely get the closet doors to close.

In the end, we had to reorganize four rooms. We disassembled and reassembled a bed and a treadmill, unmounted and remounted a TV, packed and relocated eight boxes of books and a hundred other things that were in that closet, hung clothing rods, de-cluttered the toy room, and rearranged Buster's furniture.

Did it work? Did the kids go to bed tonight? Well, I can't help remembering what my little nephew used to say when he was potty training: "Ahhh. Felief!"

It was SO WORTH IT!!! We put the boys to bed at 8:00 tonight and there has been no talking, no silliness, no screaming, and only one extra trip to the bathroom. It is the best night we've had in months. And Buddy and Buster are thrilled about having their own rooms. We should have done this long ago! Bliss!

The only drawback is that we'll have to buy another dresser. No problem! For the felief this has given me, I would give my life savings for a new dresser. And since when is a trip to Ikea a bad thing?

I shouldn't be laughing...

2011-07-12T13:41:00.005-06:00

But kid fights are so funny! Buddy and his friend D have been playing outside, while Buster decided to come in and play the wii. Of course then Buddy and D decided they weren't really done playing the wii and thought they should pick up where they'd left off. A fight had to happen. (Sweet D didn't say a word -- this was all my kids.)

What it came down to was, Buster didn't want to share his turn and I didn't make him -- because he really does get short-changed on turns. So Buddy blurted out, "Fine, Buster! Then we're going to go and look at my newest book without YOU!" With righteous anger, he scooped up the giant Encyclopedia of Animals off the kitchen table and hugging it to his chest, he turned to D and said angrily, "Come on D. Let's go look at this some place private" as he stomped off to the basement with D following quietly behind.

Poor D. I can only imagine how excited he is to be privately paging through an encyclopedia with Buddy -- discussing animal life-spans and dietary habits. Will we see D at our door again? I wonder?

Bedtime

2011-07-06T18:21:00.001-06:00

Toddler bedtime routines are always a favorite of mine. Buddy's was elaborate, but it began with touching the big, round knob on the top of each newel post on the way, and out of the way, to his room -- all nine of them.

Buster had to be tucked in with every stuffed animal in the house carefully arranged around his head and shoulders, then one tucked under each arm, a large plastic bug placed in each hand, and the blanket pulled up just so.

It's funny that each one has been so similar in its obsessiveness, but so unique in the details. It's a control thing. I get it.

Baby is in the development phase of his own unique routine. And I have to say, that as cute as the others were, Baby's is bound to be my favorite. You see, Baby likes to tidy up on his way to bed. If he sees something out of place, he picks it up and puts it away.

On our way to his bedroom tonight, he found one of his brother's shoes in the kitchen. "Shoe!" he shouted, as he bent to pick it up. Truth be told, it's not hard to find shoes just about anywhere in this house. In fact, just a step or two from that shoe, he found another one from a different pair. On his way to the mudroom shoe basket, he managed to fill his little arms with three or four shoes. He dropped them in, took a step toward me, and discovered there were even more shoes to put away.

Many shoes later, he was almost to the stairs when he found Buster's swimsuit. Don't ask me how it got there, but he needed to put it away. Then there was a toy gun that HAD to be thrown down the basement steps (as Mommy does when she wants to quickly send toys back to the abyss). Then there was a spider ring, then.... Really, this tidying up could take all night. I think that's kind of the point.

Once in his room, he has to make sure the closet door is closed tightly, the fan is turned on, and the rocking horse is slid around and placed just so. I don't know what the ultimate goal is with the rocking horse, but he's very particular.

So I'm the proud mother of a neat-freak. If it's genetic, it skipped my generation. But I like neatness in a child. I have longed for neatness in a child. I wonder if he'll mind when I keep him at home to help me clean while his messy brothers are off playing with friends?

Splashy fun and water fights

2011-06-30T18:12:00.012-06:00

For the last week and a half it has finally been warm enough for the boys to throw on their swimsuits and play in the water. We thought it would never happen.

When I was off running/walking/staggering the relay race, the boys went to a birthday party that made liberal use of water balloons. The following week they were determined to get water balloons of their own. It has rarely been so easy to get them to clean the house.

After they earned their balloons, we went to Walmart and found a pack of 500 -- 250 each of green and blue. My thinking was that it would be enough to last the summer. Their thinking was that they were about to have the most epic water fight of all time. Too bad for them, I'm the one filling the balloons.

So each day since the purchase of the balloons, I have filled approximately 20 -- not including the leakers and the poppers -- so the boys can have a water fight.

They get so excited about it. They stand next to me, counting as I fill them -- making sure that I fill equal numbers of green and blue, to be sure no one is short changed. When I'm done, I quickly step away as each boy arms himself. They then take turns throwing balloons at each other -- standing in place, and from a distance of three feet. Each balloon bounces off of its target and explodes on the ground as the boys announce in unison, "Oh, that one didn't pop." I'm not sure why they're always surprised by it, but they are.

The whole thing seems anti-climactic and perplexing to me. Why they look forward to this ritual I will never know. I suggested a water balloon toss might be more exciting -- at least then it might pop when you catch it. They told me that idea was lame.

After they have bounced their twenty balloons off of each other, we drag out the slip and slide. This is fun that I can understand. You run, you slide, you actually get wet.... I am on board with the slip and slide. Baby likes the slip and slide too:

Well, he likes it unless he actually slips and slides.

I love this one:

Can you tell my kids are a little timid about getting their faces wet? After I told them they have to learn to be tough guys and not worry about getting wet or we'll never take them to a water park, they actually let me shower them with the hose while they went down the slide on the swing-set. There was a lot of bravado as they slid down with their eyes squeezed tightly shut. It's progress.

* * * * *

Today I read The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, all about how to be the most demanding helicopter parent imaginable and how it will turn your kids into the world's most successful people. While I read the book, my kids played the wii and helped themselves to Pop Tarts and ice cream.

As Baby swung like a monkey from the chandelier, I mulled over a plan to implement some tiger mom strategies into our routines -- like having them practice math and reading more, and getting them into some lessons.

Around four o-clock, when Baby climbed into my lap, with a grin accented by blueberry juice and sticky with pop tarts, I resolved to give this tiger mom thing a good effort. But it's too late today, so maybe tomorrow. I'm so glad I never changed him out of his pajamas, it's going to make bedtime so much easier.

Brotherly love

2011-06-29T14:00:00.001-06:00

I have to share the highlight of my day yesterday. We were at the Children's Garden, at Thanksgiving Point, for a play date with one of Buster's friends from preschool. I had struck up a conversation with a nice lady and didn't see the incident, but suddenly Baby was crying. I turned to see him laying on his back, half on, half off of the sidewalk. It looked awkward and painful. I ran over and scooped him up to comfort him.

As I hugged him, I turned to see what the other boys were doing, and that's when I saw it. My sensitive, beautiful oldest child, had a shocked looking two and a half year-old boy by the arm with one hand, and the other hand clenched in a fist at his side. He was practically shaking with rage. They were up the sidewalk, just enough that I couldn't hear what was being said, but his posture was enough to set off alarm bells. It was clear this child must have pushed Baby down.

I called to Buddy to leave the little boy alone. He complied, but I've never seen him looking more agitated. I thought the best thing to do would be for us to walk away. So I took Buddy by the hand and we all moved on.

As we walked, Buddy was still radiating tension. He needed soothing too. I told him that I was so proud of him for standing up for his little brother, but that the little boy was still a baby himself and didn't really mean to hurt Baby. And that's when Buddy said something that made my heart sing: He told me, "I know Mom. I just asked him if he would do that to his baby brother if he had a baby brother."

Where it had looked to me like he was about to punch the little guy in the face, he was actually doing his best to reason with the toddler while controlling the rage he was feeling. I've never been more proud of my son. I was touched by the protectiveness he felt for his little brother. I was amazed by his presence of mind and his ability to control his temper so well at the age of six. He is a compassionate, thoughtful boy, and I am a very lucky momma.

Summer

2011-06-23T10:20:00.004-06:00

"What will we do today?" It's my favorite question. If you have the luxury of asking it, it means the day is yours to do with as you please. I love that each day of summer is a blank slate. Every day we get to decide what to do to fill our time. It's early still but I have an idea of what each of us will do today:

Buddy is working on arm-pit fart noises. I don't know where he learned it, but he is thrilled that an arm-pit can mimic a fart. I am convinced he'll be an expert by the end of the day. I'm always proud of his accomplishments -- he's very advanced for his age.

Buster has been working very hard at coloring a masterpiece. He requested a personal coloring page from our trip to Disneyland last year, and thanks to the magic of Photoshop I was able to provide this for him:

He wants me to frame it and hang it in his room when he's finished. I think that's a great idea.

Baby is working on his music. He's very talented on the piano. You can tell by the way he smashes the keys that he's very musical. If you think there's no rhyme or reason to it, it's because you have untrained ears and don't know what to listen for. I recognize his genius because I took piano lessons when I was eight and sang in Concert Choir in high school. He's composing. I believe he's working on an accompaniment to Buddy's Arm-pit Concerto.

As for Mommy, I'm going to do my best to spend time with each of them as I finish the laundry, do the shopping, weed and plant the garden, and referee each disagreement. Or maybe I'll just take a nap -- because it's summer and we all get to decide what to do with our day.

Ragnar!

2011-06-19T20:54:00.002-06:00

This weekend I discovered how to turn an ordinary McDonald's cheeseburger into culinary genius: run the Ragnar Wasatch Back 200(ish) mile relay. I stopped at a McDonald's on my way home and bought the best little cheeseburger I have ever eaten. I can't even begin to tell you how hungry I was or how good it tasted.

Those who know me and did not know I signed up for Ragnar are probably still trying to wrap their brains around that bit of news. It doesn't jive, right? Does it make more sense if I tell you my friends were doing it and I didn't want to miss out on any fun? What about if I say it meant two days of "me" time? I think I would snow-shoe across Antarctica if it meant two days of "me" time. Maybe.

Regardless of the reasons, it was an amazing experience. I wasn't as prepared as I would have liked, but I finished and I feel really good about it. It was incredibly hard.

My first leg was Avon Pass. Runner 5 had to run all the way up and pass the baton (actually a slap bracelet) to me just 277 feet from the top. Kind of stinky that after all of that running uphill, he had to let someone else summit. It was gorgeous. The rest of the 6.9 mile run is down the other side of the mountain, mostly on a dirt road. Half way down, my cell phone rang. It was my father-in-law. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Hello?"

Him: "Hey, how are you doing?"

Me: "I'm good. I'm running a race in the middle of the wilderness."

Him: "What?" [It was a bad connection]

Me: "I'm in the mountains running a race."

Him: "Oh. [Still not understanding what I said, but anxious to move the conversation forward.] I was thinking about Sunday. How about a barbeque? I'm at the grocery store so I was wondering."

Me: "Yeah, that sounds good. We'll be there -- unless I'm in the hospital. ha ha ha."

Him: "What?"

Me: "I said I'll be there unless I'm in the hospital. Because I'm running this race. We'll be there."

Him: "Ok, but who's in the hospital?"

* * *

Jokes don't translate well over weak connections.

After that run, our car had a break for a while as the next six runners took over. We headed over to the next exchange at Snowbasin Resort and had dinner in their beautiful lodge. It was our only meal. We had plenty of snacks, but no other meals. It was delicious.

Then we got a free massage. It was also delicious.

My next leg was an 8.1 mile climb up to East Canyon Reservoir at 1:00 in the morning, in thirty degree weather. I wasn't really psyched about it. I found that I don't have the best attitude when I run in the middle of the night, uphill, in the freezing. I guess that's why I walked a lot of it. Well, that, and that it was HARD. Anyone who can run that entire leg without walking has my complete respect. The last two or three miles are a constant climb. I listened to John Denver on my iPod. It put a smile on my face.

Here's the thing about running when it's 30 degrees out: while you are running, 30 degrees is pretty comfortable because your body is generating a lot of heat. When you stop running, and your clothes are sweaty, and you are cooling down, 30 degrees suddenly becomes pretty unbearable. I don't know what the temperature was in the car, but I had four hand warmers stuffed down my shirt and I couldn't stop shivering for the next hour. That will be remembered as my least favorite part of Ragnar. The hypothermia part.

That night we slept in my friend's parents' condo in Park City. I took a hot shower and slept in a warm bed while most runners slept on the floor of a high school gym or outside in the cold. That will be remembered as my favorite part of Ragnar.

The last leg was a very easy 5K through Heber City in the lovely sunshine, but by that time I could barely walk. I satisfied myself with running a block and then walking a block. I was ragged and hungry, and really working hard to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. It was harder to finish that 5K than any other part of the race. As I approached the exchange, my entire team of eleven other runners was cheering me on. I choked back a sob as I passed the baton. It was an overwhelming experience.

It was the hardest thing I have ever done. It was full of pain and misery, fun and comraderie. Plus a free massage. I am absolutely going to do it again -- after I've trained for it. I hurt.

This is my good friend Kristen. I've known her since 9th grade. We'll call that 20+ years and not worry about an exact figure. She has been running since high school. She's awesome. When one of our runners dropped out with an injury, she ran her leg for her.

The gang from van 1 -- at the starting line.

I'm saying, "You did it!" to Will. We didn't know him, he just really wanted to run Ragnar so he joined our team. He was our youngster. On day two, when we were all complaining about soreness, he wasn't sore at all. We felt old. He's a cute kid -- we were trying to come up with girls we'd like to set up with him.

Setting off on my first run.

See how enthusiastic I was?

Running to the exchange with my Cafe Rio sombrero. They passed them out about twenty yards from the exchange -- it's good for a free dinner! After I have recovered enough to walk, I'm going to stroll in there with my giant hat and pick up a giant salad.

Baby's first movie

2011-05-30T22:56:00.001-06:00

We decided to see a movie for Memorial Day -- along with everyone else in the valley. It got me to thinking just how nice it would be to own a movie theater during the rainiest spring of all time. But that's sort of off the subject.

As it turns out, it isn't very easy to find a sitter on Memorial Day, two hours before you plan to go out. So rather than abandon our plan, we decided to try taking Baby with us. I'm not big on taking babies to movies, mostly because I want to be able to watch the movie. But it was worth a shot for some family togetherness.

The minute we stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the theater, he wanted to be set down. The boys ran ahead and he ran after them, huffing loudly, just as fast as he could go. That's only about as fast as we were walking, but it was adorable. He followed them all the way through the building to our screen, through the doors, and down the entry hall. But as he turned the corner to the ramp that leads into the theater, something spooked him and he froze in his tracks. He started to cry and took a few steps back. He was really frightened so I picked him up and carried him in. He was in a panic for the first dozen steps until the screen came into view. When he saw that giant TV, the little guy got comfy fast.

We took our seats and he sat expectantly in my lap. Then they rolled the first preview. Baby let out such a squeal! He pointed and laughed at what must have been the funniest thing he's ever seen. Then the next one came up: another squeal and peels of laughter from Baby. Somehow each preview was just as funny as the last. There was no other sound from the audience -- just the previews and Baby. He had us all cracking up -- including the people next to us. It reminded me of seeing movies with my brother, who laughs loudly at whatever strikes him as funny -- even if he's the only one in the theater who is.

The first few minutes of the movie were also hysterical to him. And when the movie ceased to interest him, he entertained himself by feeding me popcorn and drinking my soda. And he surprised me by making it about half way through the show before I had to take him out to run around. We went back to that ramp that had terrified him, only this time he happily ran up and down it with another baby his age while we exiled mothers watched the rest of the movie.

(Kung Fu Panda 2: we liked it very much.)

I love his noggin

2011-05-25T20:30:00.005-06:00

I love his noggin for making him a bit top-heavy. Not that it's really over-sized or anything, but he's just one of those babies who has a knack for tipping over.

Today, Baby was wearing an outfit that is new to him. He's actually the third of my boys to wear the cute little romper, but he doesn't know that.

He was interested in it because it was also the first time in his memory that he has worn shorts. He was fascinated with the length. He had to bend over and grab a bit of the hem to show me. He had to bend over far enough that he could get a closer look for himself. He bent farther, farther... until he tipped right over onto his sweet head. He tipped over just like a falling tree.

I know you think I'm mean for being glad he's a little clumsy. I wasn't glad he hurt his head. I felt bad for him. But I love that I get to be the one to comfort him.

I scooped him up and he buried his head in my neck. He wrapped his chubby little arms around me and we swayed from side to side while I rubbed and patted his back.

His crying soon stopped and he quietly rested his head on my shoulder as I continued to sway.

Time slowed to a peaceful crawl as I snuggled my baby.

I felt his little dimpled hands begin rhythmically patting my back, just as I was patting his. I rested my cheek against his head and we patted and swayed as the minutes crept by, neither of us ready to part.

We stayed like that long past what a toddler's attention span is wont to allow. I snuggled him for as long as he would let me. It was such a gift. I relished the feeling of those little arms wrapped around my neck and the soft patting of his tiny hands on my back; the warmth of his little body; his fat little legs tucked into my chest; his sweet baby smell; and the quiet. It was so quiet.

Then his age got the better of him. He pulled back to get a look at me, pressing his hands against my shoulders. He grinned a giant seven-toothed grin and threw his head back with a squeal. Then he grabbed two handfuls of my hair and laughed while he gave it sharp a tug.

He's great at non-verbal communication. I set him down and we went back to our day.

* * * * *

I took the boys to the Kidz Expo on Saturday. It'z cooler to spell it with a "z."

Buddy was out of school for kindergarten testing so I thought it would be fun. I'm not sure why it'z so easy for me to forget that Buster still has school on dayz like that. Totally slipped my mind. I probably would have kept him out anyway just so we could go to the expo. I have my prioritiez straight that way.

So here'z a few photoz. Sorry, I took them with my cell so they're pretty lousy, but you get the idea. They had big inflatable slidez and obstacle coursez and tonz of vendorz with treatz for the kidz. We will definitely be going back next year. Maybe next time I'll let poor baby out of his stroller. I didn't want him getting lost or trampled on.

This was Buster's first time on a climbing wall. He scampered right up but he sure looked freaked out coming back down. Poor little guy.

I'd never seen these before. They were so funny! It cost five dollars each but after the rock wall I was down to my last eight dollars. They were totally cool and let both boys do it for that. They had a blast trying to run inside them like little hamsters.

Happy Bear Day!

2011-05-16T20:15:00.013-06:00

Did you know that today is Bear Day? Buddy let me know on our way to pick up Buster at preschool.

May 16 is the day that we celebrate bears.

I wasn't aware of this particular holiday, so I was glad he filled me in on the rules. I'm guessing you might also be ignorant of the Bear Day rules so here's a rundown:

1. Each Bear Day participant becomes an honorary bear for the day. Buddy made House and I grizzly bears, he is a polar bear, Buster is a sloth bear (there really is such a thing), and I think Baby is a black bear.

2. On Bear Day you have to eat what bears eat, at what is called the "Bear Day Feast." I was planning to serve leftovers tonight, but bears don't eat chicken pot pie.

In honor of Buddy's polar bear heritage, I suggested we might want to eat a seal at the feast. He thought that was a pretty good idea. But it wasn't to be. Sadly, Costco doesn't carry seal meat so we had to settle for salmon and fresh berries. Many fine bears eat salmon and berries, there's no shame in it -- even if it isn't quite a seal. We were able to celebrate our frozen buddies to the North with a choice of Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches or Haagen Daz ice cream bars.

3. Bear Day is not optional. Just in case you thought you might make other plans, let me stop you right there. I have it on good authority that the thing that makes Bear Day such an important holiday is that Buddy can punish us if we don't celebrate it. I had a thing or two to say about that, but you'd better not risk it.

4. Bear Day requires decorations. The boys took care of that while I prepared the feast.

I've never grilled on cedar planks before so I didn't know that they'd need some soaking time first. As a consequence, Baby had to have dino nuggets for dinner and missed the feast. His 6:30 bed time is more precious to me than any holiday -- but don't tell Buddy. (That's right, I said 6:30. BEST THING EVER. Read Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child. It's the key to my sanity.)

(Don't question my sanity.)

Now, for your viewing pleasure, I present the Bear Day feast!:

I like a feast that only takes 20 minutes to prep and cook (if you don't factor in the soaking time for the plank). And it was delicious! We should eat like bears more often. My picky boys ate everything I gave them and then went for more. It was unprecedented.

Regarding the bowl of Lipton Rice: We decided that if a bear had the option, he would eat Lipton Rice. So it was deemed an acceptable side dish.

A final note about Bear Day: it comes only 4 days before Whale Shark Day. Isn't that lucky? Whale Sharks mainly eat plankton so that feast might be a little harder to put together and a lot less filling.

When I told Buddy today's date he said, "How exciting! It's almost Whale Shark Day!" Then he asked me to mark my calendar on July 1st. What a funny kid. As if I could forget that July 1st is Mongoose Day. We're supposed to eat a cobra that day. Want to come over?

They're evil

2011-05-15T21:55:00.001-06:00

Darkness has always been a refuge for dangerous things. The deep dark woods, a lonely alley, or under the bed -- like in the Sixth Sense -- all are havens for treacherous creatures. They lie in wait for the innocent and unsuspecting.

Have you ever had that feeling creep over you when you turn off the basement light? When the darkness seems to overwhelm you and seep through your very bones? It's that feeling that something is there. Waiting. Something evil.

Something like a small, sharp cube of Danish plastic.

LEGOs.

I hate them! One just viciously attacked my foot in a dark stairwell. Seriously -- I'm bleeding.

Merciless brick.

I would like to go just one day without stepping on one of those monsters. I think they must contain some kind of heat seeking device.

My big weekend

2011-05-09T13:55:00.000-06:00

Once in a great while, my birthday comes the day before Mother's Day. This is the first time since becoming a mother that it's happened. It was a weekend of Melinda and it was awesome.

We happened to have a sitter arranged for Friday night -- part of a new "date night" initiative -- so I decided to begin the weekend of Melinda a little early. A little extra celebration in my honor never hurt anyone :) So we went to the Cheesecake Factory. I love spicy food and they have Gumbo there that I really needed to eat.

Early, early, early, at an unheard of hour, the next morning I got up to run a 5K. I did the same thing last year so maybe it's turning into a tradition. I did a lot better this time though :) I got my personal best time (I won't say what it is because you might imagine something better) and I placed 12th in my age division -- and there were more than 12 runners in my division.

I came home to this:

The boys picked it out. They are convinced that I love pink because I'm a girl. The cake is adorable, the candles aren't.

Here's Buster watching House set the cake on fire. Last week I got tired of not being able to see that cute face under so much hair and I went a little crazy with the scissors. I can't believe how different he looks. It's taking some getting used to.

The flaming pastry:

I opened the back door after blowing out the candles because I was afraid the smoke detector would go off.

After the festivities, I went outside to hang up my new Air Chairs. I know they don't add much sophistication to my patio, but they are SO comfortable. I bought them with my prize money from the photo contest. I can't wait to spend long afternoons out there with my Kindle while the kids play. I asked the boys to demonstrate them for me so this is what they did:

I spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing in one of the new chairs while the boys ran around. This is Buddy showing Buster how to swing a golf club, and Buster showing Buddy how to do push-ups, and neither of them paying the least attention to what the other is doing:

Sunday brought more gifts, cards, and a Twix candy bar (my favorite!). I think we need more weekends dedicated to the celebration of me. It's a really pleasant way to pass the time :)

He gets me

2011-05-06T14:24:00.005-06:00

Poor Baby. He's teething.

Also, he's kind of a stinker.

Lately when I go to get him out of bed, he starts shrieking and arching his back and acting generally unpleasant for up to 45 minutes. So two days ago I decided to ignore him. Well, I'd already been kind of ignoring him but I decided to do a better job of it. I brought him downstairs, laid him on the floor, and left the room. Three minutes later the crying stopped.

All was quiet until he found me in the kitchen. Then there was fist clenching, foot stomping, and more screaming. So I started doing the dishes. Two minutes later he was babbling and trying to unload the silverware.

He's a smart little guy.

You know what else? He gets me. He knows that I often need a little extra push to do things I don't love -- like mopping the floor. This morning he looked around the kitchen and knew that something had to be done. So he took it upon himself to give me some motivation. I love that he's such a self-starter.

Buddy was off to catch the bus and I was watching him through the living room window. I didn't realize that Buster (I think that's what I'll call Babes now, to cut the confusion. It's fitting.) had left his lunch sitting out where Baby could get it.

Thank you, Baby.

* * * * *

Now check this out:

I snapped this from my back door. How cool is that?

Spring?

2011-04-28T22:55:00.003-06:00

I know it's not unheard of to have cold, wet springs, but enough already. This record breaker is breaking me! If I don't get to put on shorts and a tee shirt soon I am running away from home. As I write this, I'm contemplating a blanket, a sweater, and some wool socks to stop my shivering. If only I weren't too lazy to go get them...

I took this daffodil picture at the Tulip Festival. Sadly, most of the tulips hadn't bloomed yet but there were plenty of daffodils. I talked the boys into going there instead of the dino museum. All it cost me was a ring pop for each boy and a rain check to see the dinos.

Some boys were happier about it...

than others.

It wasn't Baby's favorite outing of all time. He didn't get a ring pop.

I don't know if you can see it in this picture, but there is some kind of a filter or something in this pond that causes the water to bubble in a few spots.

Buddy is still obsessed with the nature documentaries.

I just typoed "mature" instead of nature. Just in case a typo like that one slips past me, please be assured that Buddy isn't watching mature documentaries.

But back to the nature documentaries, that are in no way mature, the favorites are still the "Deadly Dozen" series that highlights the twelve deadliest animals in any given region. He has really learned a lot from them. Several times he has come inside to let me know very matter-of-factly that he is sure he's been stung by a deadly scorpion or bitten by a venomous spider -- with as much concern in his voice as if it had been a mosquito. He's very tough.

Actually, he'd probably be pretty stressed about a mosquito bite because he heard they carry malaria.

Anyway, as we were walking past this pond with the bubbling water, he made the casual observation, "Huh. Looks like there's a school of piranhas out there. Good thing we didn't get in the water."

I think these documentaries are so good for him. Every suburban child in America should be worried about deadly scorpions, piranha infested waters, and dengue fever bearing mosquitoes.

After the Tulip Festival, I took the boys over to the farm and let them have a pony ride.

They loved the ponies. The most exciting part was when the ride was over and Babes' pony decided to go its own way.

Baby was just happy to be out of his stroller.

In other news, Baby had his first ice cream sandwich.

Buddy should be a writer

2011-04-18T18:44:00.000-06:00

He plans on being a doctor when he grows up, but I think Buddy could be a great writer. I love the way he uses words. Earlier today we watched a documentary about polar bears. When House got home, Buddy was so excited to tell him what he'd learned -- in his own words: "Dad! Which would win in a battle, out of a polar bear and a walrus? ...The walrus! He weighs more than twice as much and his huge tusks would spell doom for the polar bear." There was nothing in the show about huge tusks spelling doom for the bear.

Earlier, the boys lost a jelly bean in the car and I overheard the following:

Babes: Where did it go? It couldn't just disappear.

Bud: Yeah, it couldn't just jump away like a jumping bean.

Babes: Yeah.

Bud: And it couldn't just drive away like a driving bean.

Babes: Yeah.

Bud: And it couldn't just run away like a running bean.

Babes: Yeah!

Bud: I think it must have been a wizard. He must have used his wand and said, "magic wand, magic wand, take away the Bryant's last nutritious jelly bean!" Yeah, I think a wizard must have done it.

A finalist!

2011-04-18T08:16:00.000-06:00

The results are in! Here's what she had to say about the picture:

"By melindarp. What can I say? I love and adore everything about this. Technically, it’s awesome. But it’s the hilarity factor that made this photo a finalist. Precious and oh, so funny."

So nice :)

Well, I didn't win the big one but my photo was chosen as a finalist from among the five groups, so I didn't exactly not win. A $75 gift card is nothing to sniff at! I should buy a tripod, but I think I'll buy some cute summer shoes instead :)

It was so much fun to see my picture on her website and to read all of the comments about it. It's such a great feeling to see that people like something that I did. But just to clear up any questions you might have, I took the picture but I did not make the babies cry. They did that all on their own. It was brilliant!

I thought I was being pretty cool about the whole thing -- not making myself obnoxious by telling everyone I see. It turns out that if you are by nature an obnoxious person, it must manifest itself in one form or another. My brand of exuberance manifests itself through sleep deprivation. I woke up no less than ten times on Saturday night, dreaming about that picture. Obnoxious finds a way.

So as much fun as it was, I'm very happy for this contest to be over. I'm TIRED.

Yay!

2011-04-14T10:23:00.002-06:00

A few months ago I had the opportunity to take newborn photos of my sister's darling twins (that's them in my sidebar link to my photography blog). They did really great individually but we had a little trouble getting them in a shot together. We got it eventually, but it took some doing. This was one failed attempt:

Don't they look ticked? We all thought it was funny so I snapped a picture. It turned out to be one of my sister's favorites from the shoot.

Well, this week at thepioneerwoman.com, she is doing a "brothers" themed photography contest. I couldn't resist entering this photo. And GUESS WHAT!!! It has been chosen for group 3! I was so excited to see it on there this morning!

She usually chooses about 6 groups, then narrows it down to finalists, and then to a winner. So wish me luck! And go check out the other pictures -- there are some really good ones. My personal favorite is the boys covered in mud.

http://thepioneerwoman.com/photography/

He's pious

2011-04-09T11:34:00.004-06:00

Our Primary is doing a thing at church this year where if the kids bring their scriptures, they get to put a pebble in a jar to eventually earn a treat. My boys can't read yet so I hadn't bought them scriptures, but they were feeling left out. So a couple of weeks ago I ordered them each a Book of Mormon. I thought it was worth it so they could participate.

The books arrived about a week later in a nondescript brown box. By that time I had completely forgotten ordering them. I had no idea what the package was and felt a little paranoid about opening it. What can I say? Sometimes things like that blow up. After laughing at myself about how dumb it was to even be thinking that, I gingerly cut open the box. What a relief to find two copies of the Book of Mormon :)

The boys were so excited. I was surprised that Babes was especially happy about his new book. We talked a little bit about keeping it nice and treating it with respect -- you should see what these boys do to their poor books. I told them that it's important to me and why. And then they went their separate ways.

Buddy set his book on the shelf and went back to his wii. But Babes sat himself next to me on the couch and started flipping through the pages. Then he picked a page at random and asked me to read it. It wasn't a page he found especially interesting. So I turned to the story of Ammon, which was more to his liking.

That was a little over a week ago. He is still carrying it around. Every time I see the little guy, he has that book in his hand. He likes to fan the pages, or pick random pages for me to read -- even if he has trouble listening. It's funny to watch him running off to play with that Book of Mormon in his hands. I half expect to look out the window and see him standing on a soapbox, preaching to his friends. Who knew he was so religious? ;)

Birthday pictures

2011-04-07T15:39:00.014-06:00

Months ago -- well, six months ago -- I was laying in bed thinking about what to do for Baby's first birthday pictures. I wanted to try something different. Finally I came up with the idea to set up a little party in his bedroom. I spent the next hour dreaming up every last detail of the setup.

I went to Hobby Lobby the following week and bought everything I could possibly need, and then some. Then I started baking. I made cookies, cake, and cupcakes. Then I was burned out on baking -- so not my calling -- so I put it all in the freezer, to be decorated at a later date.

Weeks passed. I did pictures for other people. We had a few holidays, did some traveling, had some colds and a few scrapes and bruises. Things kept coming up. Fate was conspiring against these pictures. Plus I was lazy -- but it was mostly Fate's fault.

I found some motivation a month or so ago and pulled out all of the cookies and cupcakes and decorated them. Then fate stepped in again, I caught a cold, so I put it all back in the freezer (never work through a cold when you can escape to your bed instead).

Finally, this weekend I decided it had to happen. With plans to do "un-birthday" pictures to celebrate turning 18 months, I pulled it all out and started setting everything up. I spent two hours in the nursery getting everything ready. I practically scrubbed holes in the kids' table and chairs trying to remove all of the paint, glue, and crayon. All the while I was shewing Babes out of the room and begging him to stay downstairs with his dad. He was so excited to eat the treats, I just couldn't keep him away.

I was carrying a stack of plates up to the nursery when I saw that he was still up there. I demanded that he listen to me and go downstairs. He obeyed. He passed me on the landing. Then there was a crash. I turned around to see him face down on the wood floor. He was stunned and then he was screaming. He'd gone down about four steps and smacked his forehead on the floor.

House picked him up and cuddled him while I got him an ice pack. A wicked green lump was already growing on his poor head.

All of his excitement vanished. My little guy spent the next hour or so laying on the floor in front of the TV. I felt responsible. I should have let him stay with me. When I offered him cake, he came to the counter but didn't take a bite. He just laid his head down and went to sleep. Then he became nauseous. When I found him laying on the bathroom floor I decided I'd better take him to a doctor. Pictures would have to wait.

We spent the next couple of hours in the ER. Babes was out for most of it. Then after a good long rest, a head CT, and some Tylenol, he woke up good as new -- his old, happy self again. He was given a clean bill of health and sent home.

I almost didn't dare to try taking the pictures after that. Fate did not want me to! But I had already spent half the day setting them up and the treats couldn't be re-frozen so...

And while I was posting this, Babes decided to make a sandwich with Nutella -- which he left open on the table for Baby to find. I love me a chocolate coated baby.

Baby

2011-04-06T09:16:00.003-06:00

Baby makes me smile as he walks around the house wearing random shoes. Right now he is slapping around in one of House's slippers. He stops only to sit in my lap for a minute and babble away about it with a big grin on his face. Then he's ready to be set down to walk some more.

This is always a favorite stage for me. I don't know what it is about shoes that babies love so much. He puts on whatever he can find -- but only one, two would be too hard to handle. The other day it was one of my Sunday shoes with a 3 inch heel. Very impressive! And when the boys have friends over, those friends can pretty much count on Baby taking off with their shoes.

Here's a shot of Babes when he was just six months older than Baby is now, shoe fetish going strong and rubbing off on his big brother.

Baby has three other obsessions right now, the first of which is a whoopy cushion. I bought it for his brothers because I knew they'd love it. I had no idea that it would become Baby's favorite toy. He brings it to me over and over and over again to blow up for him. Then, with an ear to ear grin, he sets it on the floor and very carefully lays down on it. All the while he smiles up at me to be sure I am enjoying the joke.

Obsession two is playing in the kitchen drawers. His favorite game is stacking cups and bowls. I actually don't mind this game at all because it keeps him entertained for an hour at a time.

And obsession number three is lime juice. This one I don't get. I'm sure it has something to do with the shape of the bottle (it's one of those little lime shaped ones) and its accessible location in the fridge, but the child is constantly getting out my lime juice. I find it in the weirdest places -- like in the toy box, or on the floor in my family room. One bottle even found its way into my toilet. Don't worry, that one didn't get put back in the fridge :)

Now cute baby is "mopping" my living room carpet. I love this busy age :)

Laundry is a four letter word

2011-04-02T19:06:00.003-06:00

Raise your hand if your laundry ever looks like this:

I knew it! I knew I could not be the only woman to suffer this.

Just when I finish patting myself on the back for washing AND putting away all of our dirty things, I turn around and the pile is back! It's like some kind of horror movie: Our heroine has just shaken the bad guy. She's taking a few deep breaths; so relieved. Then she feels it. A presence. Dread creeps over her, telling her to turn around. She hesitates, afraid to see... that he... is lurking right behind her!! [Cue the Jamie Lee Curtis scream {Aaaaaa!}]

C'mon -- the scream? You know, Halloween? Yeah, I haven't seen it either -- it's not a romantic comedy. But surely you've heard the scream?

Anyway, this is my life. I am a laundress. I am occasionally a maid, and even less often a cook. But try as I might, I cannot escape the laundry.

Yesterday, with my ever present companion/faithful side-kick, Baby, I dug into this nightmare and I'm still trying to find my way out. Baby thinks he is very helpful. He keeps shoving dirty clothes into the dryer as I change over the load. Then, as I sort and fold, he brings me sock after sock from House's drawers, as well as dirty things from the laundry room. It's very cute but sort of adds to the task at hand.

At least I'm not washing it all in a river somewhere. If that were the situation I would only allow each person to have one outfit. They would have to find a good hiding spot on laundry day because ain't no way I'd wash more than one outfit apiece.

What's your "favorite" household duty?

Same old, same old

2011-03-24T22:20:00.002-06:00

I'm sitting here eating a Reese's Peanut Butter Egg and listening to my six year-old throw a tantrum in his room. I don't think he's trying to be funny -- he just has a knack for it. If he can reign in the melodrama a bit, I see him being nominated for an Oscar some day.

I shouldn't laugh at his tragedy though, as it is ALL my fault. I am a cruel mother. I forced him to throw a tantrum by telling Babes he could sleep in my bed tonight -- clearly marking him as the favorite and reinforcing Buddy's belief that we are unfair and he is a martyr. It shouldn't matter that he was teasing Babes by turning off his night light, or that Babes is running a fever of 102 today and will likely need his inhaler tonight.

Grrr.

OK, I think he's getting to me. Better eat a Twix.

I love Easter for all of its bite-sized yumminess.

* * * * *

In other news, we have renewed our membership to the dino museum. Can you call it a renewal two years after the last one expired? I don't think I could do one there every year because it never changes. You see, the dinos are actually dead -- have been for a while now. So they don't move around and do cute or interesting things. At least at the zoo the animals move around.

I wonder if they would consider something more lively at the dino museum? Like monkeys. I would love to see monkeys climbing around on the Supersaurus and doing the things that monkeys do -- like flinging their poop at people.

Ok, so that might not be such a good idea.

But seriously, wouldn't it be fun to visit a dinosaur museum that includes live specimens of modern dinosaurs -- like crocodiles and giant lizards? Maybe someday I'll open my very own museum/zoo hybrid. Maybe in Las Vegas because I could charge a fortune for admission. Maybe I could even get Wayne Newton to headline it?

Anyway, Baby LOVED the erosion table. I wish I'd brought my camera, but at least I had my cell phone. Can you tell I don't invest a lot of money in fancy cell phones?

Dear Friend,

2011-03-15T12:50:00.001-06:00

To the dear neighbor who came to pick up her child,

I am sorry that you had to wade through our messy house to find your boy, as I was changing a nasty blow-out and could be of no help to you. You were very kind but I know what you must have been thinking. Every room you saw was a complete disaster. Before you judge me too harshly, let me explain:

I just didn't feel like cleaning.

Now don't you feel better about it?

I was reading a really good book all afternoon -- The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society -- and wasn't concerned about the mess piling up around our ears. In fact, I can't say that I really noticed it until you had to go into my basement in search of your son. Then I wanted to bury myself under the nearest pile of toys. In my defense, I did do the dishes -- otherwise we would have no spoons. Do you run out of clean spoons as often as we do?

But all of this is very trivial. Let me assure you of this one important fact: No child has ever vanished in our clutter. Your child is perfectly safe here. And when I'm not reading a book, I do pick up so we'd be sure to find him sooner or later anyway.

Thank you for your understanding.

-Melinda

Good Parenting: Chapter 1

2011-03-09T12:31:00.005-07:00

That's right! We are writing the handbook. Here's your chance to glean.

Buddy has recently become obsessed with wildlife documentaries. Watching them is all he's wanted to do ever since it came to his attention that Netflix, which we get through our wii, has an extensive collection. His hands-down favorite is a series called "Deadly Dozen." You might have guessed that they feature predators and expound on the many attributes that make them deadly. We have come to know that when he asks to watch a movie on the wii, he isn't asking to watch a Disney, he wants to see a Deadly Dozen.

We encourage our children to seek learning experiences. We buy them math books and encyclopedic books about this and that. We look things up on the internet whenever they have a question about history, science, or nature. We do our best to answer any question they might put forward. We want them to love learning. So of course we have encouraged this new love of documentaries.

However. We need him to balance his interests. We need to teach him to do that. [This is what we tell ourselves.] It's for that noble reason, and not because we have seen enough of the Blue-Ringed Octopus or the Box Jellyfish to last a lifetime, that we have started to put our foot down. It's all about what's in his best interest.

We now hear ourselves saying things like, "Yes, you can watch a movie, but only if it's a REAL movie and not a documentary" and "We aren't watching another documentary! We're watching SpongeBob and that's final!"

That's right. Somehow in our twisted school of parenting, we have decided that documentaries are out and SpongeBob is in. In our defense, SpongeBob was created by a marine biologist so its underpinnings are educational. They're learning all about various undersea fish and squirrel species and their hi jinx.

We do what we can.

Cookie dough

2011-03-07T16:56:00.005-07:00

Buddy brought home a school fundraiser a month or so ago. He was really excited about it because if he could sell north of $300 (I think) worth of cookie dough he could get a robot laser ball -- retail value: $10.

In this arena, House is a much bigger softy than I am. I was going to buy one tub of cookie dough, make the requisite calls to the grandparents, and call it good. But, seeing how excited Buddy was about the laser ball, House made the ultimate sacrifice and told Buddy he would see if he could sell enough at work to get him the prize.

House spent the next three days about as far out of his comfort zone as he could get, selling cookie dough to everyone he works with. And he made it! He actually sold enough to get that ball.

Well, today the ball arrived. Buddy is beside himself. He hasn't turned it off since he got home. It's on right now. Sort of feels like it's been on for an eternity.

It plays music; calliope music. Imagine an ice cream truck parked in your family room.

It has bright, spinning, flashing "laser" lights. Imagine that the ice cream truck in your family room induces seizures.

What will be the fate of this little robot laser ball? I wonder if it will end up under the wheels of my car? Or maybe someone will accidentally allow Baby to drop it in the toilet? Hard to say, but I'm worried some accident might befall it in the very near future.

My boy

2011-03-01T08:56:00.000-07:00

"Mom, boys and girls are made differently."

My four year old's words hit me like a sucker punch from the back seat. How did this come up? Weren't we just talking about which bear is the most dangerous? I swear it was something about bears. What happened to the bears?!!

I wracked my brain for the best way to face this conversation. Four is too old to have such a statement discarded without notice. But four is also much too young for a real sit-down on the differences between boys and girls. Into what minefield would this conversation take me?

I decided to let him guide me. "Yes honey, they are."

Fighting the instinct to duck and cover, I waited for what was to come.

"Yeah, cause girls are made from spice and everything nice and boys are made from snails and puppy dogs."

Hallelujah! Suddenly I was fighting off a laugh and rejoicing in the front seat. My boy. My perfect child led me away from the minefield without ever even knowing it was there.

Then he followed up with, "That's why boys like cool stuff and girls don't."

What big eyes you have!

2011-02-23T22:32:00.010-07:00

Babes sat at the counter yesterday morning, entertaining me with his chatter while I made lunch. I wasn't paying much attention, just throwing in the occasional, "uh huh," and "wow!" to keep him going so he would stay out of trouble. But at one point I looked down at him, and everything else faded into the background. My hands were still as I met his gaze and my Grinch heart grew three sizes right then and there. I was looking into his eyes, struck by how lovely they are. They're my dad's eyes.

"Babes, your eyes are so beautiful!" My exclamation caught him by surprise.

"Huh? What'd you say?"

"You have such beautiful eyes. I have to take a picture of those beautiful eyes!"

He was a little embarrassed, but pleased. So I grabbed my camera and asked him to sit just the way he had been at that moment. He was uncharacteristically cooperative. Then I dialed in the camera settings, focused on his gorgeous eyes, and just as I was snapping the picture, he opened those peepers as wide as he possibly could -- just to be accommodating. It was very thoughtful of him. The result:

Holy EYES! It makes one wonder about his thyroid :) House asked if I'd done some kind of post-processing trick to make them bigger. It's a little face with giant orbs. I'm posting it first in black and white because it makes me laugh how they -POP- right out at you. But I love their color too, so I have to post it in color.

Oh my gosh, I love this kid.

You might be a redneck...

2011-02-21T18:12:00.000-07:00

We spent the afternoon listening to such songs as, "All My Exes Live in Texas" as we strolled through the big game displays at Cabella's. We go there for family fun when we're bored. We can kill two hours looking in the big game galleries, feeding the fish, and shooting targets in the shooting gallery (mommy kicks butt in the shooting gallery). Family entertainment for just five dollars. What could be better?

Buddy now believes that the only two acceptable reasons for killing an animal are if you need food, or if you need to turn it into a statue.

There's one room full of animals that you would find in our mountains here. The boys love to go in there and look at the bears. As part of the display, there are two horses who I guess were so exceptional in life that they stuffed them after they died. I would be so honored. Taxidermy is out of the question, but I think a life-sized bronze of me would be warranted. Something small to remember me by. We might have to get one for each child -- I don't want hurt feelings.

Anyway, the horses went on many a hunting trip with their owner, who is represented by an animatronic guy, kneeling in front of a tent. When my boys saw it they thought Cabella's had stuffed a dead guy and turned him into a statue. I had a hard time looking at it after that. It was a little too "Silence of the Lambs" for me.

I happened to be standing in front of a black bear while animatronic guy was telling his stories and it occurred to me that it would be a lot more fun if the animals could talk. I wanted to hear the bear's side of the story.

* * * * *

The boys are really into their Paper Jamz. Buddy is always demonstrating new songs for me. So yesterday, after a really good jam session with Babes (that made me want to pull my hair out) he sat down in the kitchen and told me that he will be my guitar teacher for the next year. I was thrilled to think of him trailing me around the house, strumming like mad, every day for a year.

He jumped right into lesson one -- which was just him going crazy on his guitar. Then Babes asked him a question. He stopped playing and, in an exasperated tone, said, "Excuse me, I'm being interrupted by another student. The lesson will now continue."

The sun!!!

2011-02-13T09:25:00.001-07:00

We were so excited when it warmed up yesterday and the air wasn't grimy! We couldn't pass up the opportunity to play outside. This was Baby's first attempt at walking in grass.

Ever since we visited a climbing wall at Christmas, this kid thinks he is the best climber around. He's not at all shy about telling you just how good he is, or just how much better he is than you. I love the humility of a six year-old boy.

Babes wanted nothing more than to push his baby in the swing. I love the look on his face as he gives it everything he's got.

We all have cabin fever so bad. We NEED spring!

Poor baby

2011-02-10T18:03:00.004-07:00

*WARNING* Grossness lies ahead, proceed at your own risk

Baby has had a rough week since the Super Bowl. Not only was he heartbroken about the Steelers, but he has been totally sick with the poops. Until today he was going through about 4 outfits a day, plus several bedsheets and blankets. We lost a few good onesies -- some things aren't worth saving.

It wasn't fun for either of us. He did a lot of pooping and I did a lot of laundry. We both felt like crying a lot.
But he is feeling better now. We haven't had a single blow-out today! YAY!!!

Just in case you thought I might be, let me tell you that I am NOT a fan of diarrhea. I just thought that was important to make clear. I dislike diarrhea. Weird, huh? I know a lot of people think it's really great and they really love when their kids get it. I guess it's just another one of those things that sets me apart from most moms.

Here's the little guy yesterday. He's my first to have a favorite blanket and I think it's just the cutest thing ever :) This picture makes me want to pick him up and squeeze him!

Buddyisms

2011-02-07T08:36:00.005-07:00

Indulge me. Buddy makes me laugh so I have to share. Last night he went to a Super Bowl party with dad while I stayed home with a cranky Baby and a sleepy Babes. When they got home he sat himself at the counter and cracked open a root beer he'd brought back with him. Then, looking around the kitchen, he asked me what Babes had for dinner. "Ravioli-O's" I said. He shot back with, "No fair! All I got to eat were sweets and goodies. Sweets and goodies aren't dinner."

And just now, as I helped him find a game for the wii while simultaneously blocking the cupboard from Baby, he felt like he needed to point out the advantages of my doing that for him by saying, "You'll be able to find it faster and Baby can't get in because you're too fa.... because you're too big." Good catch son.

Back to the Super Bowl party: I felt bad that I couldn't go. Shortly before we were going to leave, Baby started showing signs that he was coming down with something. Poopy signs. And he was CRANKY. I had the lowest possible expectations for my night. But it turned out to be one of those almost unheard of evenings of complete quiet, blissful solitude. Cranky-pants went to bed at 5:45 and then Babes fell asleep at 6:30. It was amazing! Thank you Super Bowl. Thank you.

Drama!

2011-02-02T10:08:00.003-07:00

Do you know that cry that kids have when they've really, really hurt themselves? When they do that loooong exhale and they're not actually breathing? My baby does that when he's mad. He does it until he turns blue.

Last night he had to wait for dinner. I know, I totally disrespected him. He worked himself into quite a cry as I heated his soup and thickened it up with a little bread to make it less drippy. Then I sat down and put him in my lap to feed him. But he wanted nothing to do with ME feeding him, he wanted to feed himself. So he cried harder.

Often when he is that way, I put just a tiny bit of sauce on his tongue while his mouth is open. He usually realizes that he likes what I'm offering and stops crying. So that's what I did. I put a tiny, TINY bit of broth on his tongue. BIG mistake. I've never seen the kid flip out the way he did. He was furious.

I felt bad. I tried to comfort him and told him I was sorry for sneaking food into his open mouth. And then he went into that loooong exhale. I turned him around so I could look at him face to face. His lips were blue and he was still exhaling. Then his eyes rolled back and his head dropped to one side. My little baby went limp in my hands.

Adrenalin! My stomach twisted into knots as concern turned to panic. I said his name and gave him a slight shake but he remained limp and blue. He was totally unconscious.

Then I thought of the broth. Was he choking?! Did I make him choke?!! I flipped him upside down and was about to start pounding on his back when he started screaming again. I don't know if he even knew anything had happened because he picked up right where he'd left off.

His tantrum paid off. He got his way. I needed to give myself a minute to catch my breath so I put him at the table in his highchair and gave him the bowl and spoon. He grinned at me from ear to ear. For the next half-hour he fed himself, the table, the highchair, and the floor and smiled the whole time.

What do I do with that?

Pride

2011-01-31T14:51:00.006-07:00

My baby just climbed Everest.

Well, ok, it was a chair in my family room. But he's so small. It took ingenuity and determination. He muscled and wiggled his way onto the chair like a true champ. He deserved to feel proud of his accomplishment. He earned the right to clap for himself.

Today, the chair. Tomorrow, the world!

Too much?

* * * * *

I recently found myself in possession of a $200 gift card to Amazon.com (thanks again). And since I already had my Kindle, it was seriously hard to figure out what to spend it on. I know, you feel for me.

I would like to think that at some point in time there was a version of me who would have spent it on something generally considered to be fun -- like clothes or something. I really would like to believe that.

Sadly, my version of fun has always had more to do with new gadgets for my home than with great new shoes. Don't get me wrong, I love shoes. They're just not as much fun as, well, a new food processor or a pimped-out toaster.

So what does someone like me do with $200 in prize money?

Dum, da da DA:

It arrived on Saturday! Can you believe how completely awesome it is?!!! And check out that dirty water! That's from my couch! My beautiful, not inexpensive (because there was a time when we had no children and we both worked) chenille couch. Remind me of this if I ever speak of getting a dog again. I am beyond happy to have my couch looking clean again.

Today I shall attack the carpet in my family room! SERIOUS fun!

THANK YOU!!!

2011-01-25T15:34:00.010-07:00

You might remember that back in November I posted this little appeal to vote for my nursery at unique-baby-gear-ideas.com. Ok, I said, "rave if you must," and you guys didn't disappoint! Some of my favorite votes were:

"That nursery makes me want to have another baby, just to decorate a nursery like this one. So sweet!"

"I would love for you to come and decorate my babys room!"

and "I want to be a baby again and sleep in that room."

And then, to my surprise, I actually got some votes from people I've never met before, who just saw it on the website and voted.

Well, THANKS A LOT all of you!!! I WON!!! {here's where I pause to do a little dance}

{This is a yearly contest, see more at the bottom of this post.}

I had planned to buy a Kindle if I won, but House gave me one for Christmas. So now what? Two-hundred dollars worth of e-books? This is going to take some serious thought.

I LOVE YOU ALL!!! YAY!!!

And now, just because you're not sick of it enough yet, here are the pics I took for ohdeedoh.com (because it got featured there too but I didn't mention it here because I felt it would be obnoxious. at the time, I only told everyone on facebook and the two people who look at my photography blog. does that show restraint or what?? so I'm telling you now).

Starting next week I'll be offering tours for just $5 per person. I'm toying with the idea of group discounts, we'll have to see.

***I've been told that the grand prize for this year will be $500, with $200 for second place and $100 for third, so PEOPLE, if you have a darling nursery, or you are planning a darling nursery, send in your pictures! You can count on me for a vote :)

Ta da!

2011-01-23T20:57:00.004-07:00

Guess what this is:

Go on, guess.

No, it's not a time machine.

A microwave, you say? You silly. It's more than just a microwave, it's the lifeblood of my family. It's the key to our survival. If we didn't have this beautiful, gleaming appliance hanging over the dusty, unused stove we would all starve. How else would we re-heat our take-out? {There's this myth floating around that people used to use ovens for that. I'm going to check Snopes.}

As a bonus, if you guessed, "self portrait," you get one hundred extra points. {Cheese!}

No, your points are not redeemable. I can give my kids points for anything. They still haven't caught on that I don't keep track and they would've gotten a treat anyway just because Mom has a sweet tooth. I love that it works. I'm so duplicitous.

{After I typed "duplicitous" I looked it up to make sure I was using it correctly. I do that a lot. I'm a word coward. What good is a vocabulary without the confidence to use it?}

Anyway, could there be a more appropriate self portrait?

Anyway, anyway, I had to immortalize my microwave while it's sparkly because it so often isn't (though it's NEVER as bad as my refrigerator was last week). I didn't do this one in Photoshop -- it's the real deal. I spent about 45 minutes the other night scrubbing this thing down inside and out (that's including the intermittent time spent boiling water in it to make it wipe out better).

Do you know what happens when you educate yourself about BPA? Or when you watch Dr. Oz and HE educates you about BPA (because I didn't actually do any research)? You quit covering your food with saran wrap. That might be ok in a household where ANYONE bothers to wipe out the microwave after using it. We aren't that household. It was so gross.

But look at it now!

So clean. So perfect. So ready to receive.

And now, you have read an entire blog post about my microwave. Congratulations. That is worth 300 bonus points and a gold star. {Yes, I'm bored. Why do you ask?}

Babes

2011-01-21T13:47:00.003-07:00

We were a little slow getting started today. After hanging out in our pajamas until ten, I finally went to get dressed. Babes seized that opportunity to throw on his shoes and run down the street, still in his jammies and without a coat, to see if his friend could play. I ran outside just in time to call him back home before he knocked on the door.

After a few minutes of stubbornly kicking a snowbank, he relented.

As I watched my little imp, in his too-small Mickey Mouse pajamas that he got at Disney World when he was two, running toward me as fast as his little legs could carry him, I was struck by how little he still is. Sometimes I forget that four years old is still on the fringes of toddlerhood. He still has dimples on his hands.

I began to feel anxous. He's still young enough that running is a precarious business and I was holding my breath, hoping he wouldn't catch a toe.

Then all at once, my anxiety over him falling melted away and I laughed out loud to see the skinny little guy, hair bouncing in the air, legs flying, arms pumping, racing back to me. I couldn't wait to get my arms around the little turkey.

* * * * *

Yesterday that punk told his friend: "I'm glad I don't have any sisters. I HATE sisters."

Today, Buddy told me, "Mom, every day we live we get closer to being dead. Really, Mom, we do." Hmm. Prozac anyone? Jeez.

And Baby has been saying Mama, Dada, baba (bottle), and Bob Bob, which of course is SpongeBob. So proud ;)

Random pictures

2011-01-15T15:37:00.006-07:00

First of all, meet my two darling nephews!

I was too excited about new babies to leave my camera at home. I'm glad I brought it -- even if it meant being a little obnoxious. They are so heavenly. These guys combined were just under 14 lbs!

This is my photo for week two of my 52 week project:

The theme was "illustrate a song." I was having trouble finding inspiration until Babes came upstairs laughing and announced, "I painted a mustache on mine face!" followed by another blast of laughter. The song, "Man in the Mirror" instantly came to mind -- "I'm starting with the man in the mirror. I'm asking him to change his ways..." A mom can dream, right?

This is what happens when Dad and a little pizza sauce work together to create a hairstyle:

We had some fun yesterday when Baby discovered sunglasses. He LOVED them. He made us put them on him over and over again just so he could keep taking them off.

What do you think of my fridge? Do you like stainless? I don't. It's hard to get stainless steel appliances to sparkle.

I have to do it in Photoshop.

Speaking of dirty little secrets, do you have a drawer like this?

I have two of them. One is for mom and dad's odds and ends and the other is for the kids. Ours is full of cell phone chargers -- old and new. I don't know which ones we still need and which are obsolete so I just leave them all in there and close the drawer on them.

I have to be honest though, I kind of like the kids' drawer. It's full of all of the tiny objects that are too precious to them to throw away, but are hard to find a place for. It's bright and colorful and its contents say so much about the little boys who filled it. It's my favorite mess. {I spy: an I Spy book}

He's the whole package

2011-01-13T14:29:00.007-07:00

As we were standing in the kitchen the other day, I looked at Buddy and felt my heart swell a little bit. So I said, "Oh, my cute Buddy" and smiled at him with all the love in my heart. He looked back at me and said, "You might think I'm cute, but I'm really smart too." I guess he doesn't like to have his intellect taken for granted just because he's so adorable.

So, all you mommas of wonderful little girls, I have a six year-old here who is smart, good looking, and plans to be a doctor or a dentist -- whichever option he finds more affordable. He will be making a cool $100/day and will own a boat. Keep him on your radar when our kids are dating age :)

Or, if you'd prefer, my equally wonderful Babes plans to own a store that sells everything he can think of -- sort of like Walmart, only not so Walmarty. And he plans to let our family get whatever we want for free.

Baby is still undecided about his profession. He's no slouch, he's just testing the water to see which field appeals to him most. We feel he should at least get through teething before making any major life decisions.

Your ward chorister: behind the scenes

2011-01-12T10:24:00.010-07:00

I'm a rock star. I have a new job at church. Several weeks ago I was told, "We need your expertise...," and I said, "Oh no." Because really, that didn't sound like it was going somewhere good. Then I was asked to lead the music in Sacrament Meeting.

Let me tell you about my "expertise." When I was in college I was given the same job. Having never led music in my life, every Sunday morning, in a panic, I would flip to each of that day's songs in the hymn book, check the time signature (that's what it's called, right?), and then flip to the back of the book to check the diagrams on how to lead those songs.

Then, in spite of my careful preparation, I messed up every single song and just ended up waving my hand back and forth while I silently laughed at myself and hoped no one noticed. That's my expertise.

I told them I would do it and then made a promise to myself that I would do better than I did in college. So far I can't say that I have. I've tried harder, I'm just woefully uncoordinated. I look like I'm swatting at flies. My consolation is that nobody looks at the chorister anyway.

To make things easier on House and, by extension, the boys, I have had Buddy up on the stand with me. It has been interesting. He entertains himself by playing dead on the floor behind the piano, napping on the bench, playing with the hymn books, and whatever else he can think of. As long as it's quiet and no one can see him, I let him. The only thing I can do to keep him still is tickle his back and arms, which I do, endlessly.

The truth is, I could go sit with my family for half the meeting, but one lone boy is so much easier than three. I think I'm enjoying the freedom. I tell myself I'm not being selfish because Baby would have a melt-down if I sat with them and then went back up to lead the closing hymn. I'm so sure I'm right, there's no need to test my theory. That's what I'm telling myself.

So it's not a bad job. As long as I can keep Buddy under control, not mess up too badly, and people continue to not look at me, I think I will enjoy it.

Week one, and other stuff

2011-01-05T11:50:00.003-07:00

First, I have something serious to report: Someone is trying to make me fall into the toilet.

At first I thought it was an innocent mistake. In a house where I am the only female it's bound to happen once in a while. But it is happening with greater frequency -- and in MY bathroom too. It's starting to feel malicious. It's starting to feel like...a conspiracy.

One of these nights I'm going to stagger into the bathroom and the whole house will be awakened by a dreadful splash. And then the whole house will find themselves exiled to the basement bathroom where the spiders like to hide. Then I will have my choice of three clean and sparkly bathrooms (that I will continue to let House clean) with seats firmly down. I think that's what heaven will be like -- sparkly bathrooms cleaned by someone else, and the seats are always down.

* * * * *

I have joined a 52 week photo project with MCP Actions. I lack the discipline to take a photo every day so no 365s for me, but one photo a week I think I can handle. This week's (week 1) theme is "around the house." I now realize I should have taken a photo of a toilet with the seat up, but I took this picture instead:

And then, just for fun, I added snowflakes. I should have put this on my blue backdrop, that would have been cute.

* * * * *

And finally, I have developed a bit of a problem regarding the Kindle. I can't seem to stop using it. I've had it for a week and a half and I'm on my third book. It's just so darn easy to buy the next book, I can't stop myself! I can see that boundaries will need to be set. A budget will need to be created. But they sure are sneaky the way they make it so easy to buy books.

My first book was The Story Girl by LM Montgomery. I love the Anne of Green Gables books so I thought I'd try this one -- and it was free. It has much the same flavor. I liked it, though I still like Anne better. That chick is crazy.

Book 2 was A Dog's Purpose. When I saw this one I had to download the preview just to see what a book written from a dog's point of view was like. It's like this:

"...three dogs in front of me were all light colored and all females, so I seductively peed on a mound of dirt before joining them to sniff politely at their rear ends."

It made me laugh. But there was a lot more to it than that. I haven't done it justice with that quote. It was actually a wonderful book. I loved it. It made me cry several times -- isn't that the mark of a good book?

And then last night, within five minutes of finishing the dog book, I started reading Little Bee. I can tell I'm going to like this one a lot. And then when I finish I think I'd better put the Kindle away for a week or two -- only to be used when reading the pirate book to Buddy (aka: Treasure Island -- I finally know who Long John Silver is!).

After Christmas

2010-12-29T13:08:00.005-07:00

Look who likes to wear diapers on his head:

I have come down with a terrible case of lazy. I actually spent the entire day in my pajamas yesterday because it was the first day in over a week that we didn't have somewhere to go. It's nice to have some down time after Christmas.

Last week I was not lazy. Last week I baked and cleaned, attended parties, went to the Nutcracker, saw the lights at Temple Square, baked, and cleaned... Look how pretty:

I really did a lot of baking. I finally managed to make caramels that were the perfect texture. They were delicious! There was no fear of breaking or pulling a tooth, and no one needed a spoon to eat it. I haven't had a lot of luck in the past. The secret was to get a thermometer I could actually read AND determine the boiling point at my high altitude. Two things that were just too simple to try the second, third, and fourth times I ruined a batch of caramels.

I also made these lovely gingerbread cakes:

And these delicious prune cakes:

Mmm. Prune cake. It's delicious AND beneficial :) But I be not a food blogger so don't ye be askin' me fer no recipes.

She be such a pretty cake with lemon sauce.

Sorry, I've been reading Treasure Island to my boys. I'm too impressionable not to start thinking in pirate. Arrr.

I've also been reading a book written from the point of view of a dog. I hope I don't find myself drinking out of a toilet.

I love my new Kindle. That was my Christmas gift this year. It is so lovely. Now this lazy reader has a dictionary at her fingertips. It's the first time I've ever bothered looking up words I'm unsure about -- like "sonsy" and "argosy." Clouds described as argosies paints such a pretty picture. And it was so helpful to know, when reading Treasure Island, that a cutlass is a sabre. It's funny that this is such a revelation to me, but looking up the words really adds dimension to the story! It reminds me of the first time I ever read a text book: in twelfth grade. It was a real eye opener to find that there was so much good information in there!

Yes, my Kindle and I are sure to be good friends.

Now for the best part of Christmas: baby started walking! Really walking. It was so exciting, BUT, I was at the Nutcracker when it happened :( Grrr. The little guy has been teasing us for months, acting like he is about to walk and then dropping to his hands and knees. I guess he's like his mommy. He knew it needed to be done sometime, he just hadn't gotten around to it yet.

I have to get over the lazy now and go get something done.

Santa Claus

2010-12-20T22:24:00.009-07:00

We took a family trip to Costco on Saturday. We had nothing to do and a gift to exchange so it made for a good Saturday afternoon activity. We were in the car, heading for home when we decided that as long as we were out, we might as well head over to a tree lot that has real reindeer for the kids to see. As luck would have it, Santa was there! I didn't have my camera with me so I took this cell phone pic:

I have come to realize that there is a broad spectrum when it comes to the quality of the Santas of the world. It looks something like this:

At one end of the spectrum is this guy:

He is the Disneyland Santa; cream of the crop. You would swear he came straight from the North Pole. He's fat, he's jolly, and he was very sweet to my kids in a very un-creepy way.

At the other end of the spectrum is this guy:

Louis Winthorpe III, of "Trading Places." I have to work really hard at not dry heaving when I see this filthy Santa eating salmon through his beard.

As you can see on my handy Santa Scale, our tree lot Santa leans a little more toward Winthorpe.

For one thing, he was standing. He had bails of hay to sit on but he chose to stand. And he was anti-social. He didn't say anything to greet us, he didn't wave, nothing. If you are an anti-social person with an aversion to sitting, Santa is not the job for you.

I had the boys go tell him what they want for Christmas. He bent over to hear their requests. Then I asked if I could take a picture. Rather than sit on his nice bails of hay, Santa chose to kneel, not crouch, KNEEL for the shot. I guess I should mention that it was raining just hard enough to make the tree lot muddy. Who kneels in the mud?

So after the picture, Santa stood up to see that his pretty Santa pants were dripping with mud. I felt bad. I really did. But seriously, how dumb?

The guy was ticked.

If you are an anti-social person with an aversion to sitting, who has poor judgment and a short fuse, Santa is not the job for you.

So there I was with my two little boys who absolutely believe in Santa, looking at a Santa who was visibly angry about having muddied his suit. I knew I needed to get the situation under control before Santa released a slew of curse words that would leave a permanent imprint on my boys. So after expressing my sympathy about his suit, I smiled at him and my boys and said, "I guess Mrs. Claus is going to have some laundry to do tonight." To which the angry, and apparently bitterly divorced Santa replied, "She doesn't exist anymore." Thankfully the boys attention had shifted to the reindeer.

What kind of thing is that for a Santa to say? I took the boys to get a closer look at the reindeer.

Now that I'm thinking about it, I think this Santa leans more toward Winthorpe than I gave him credit for.

The annual gingerbread house

2010-12-18T11:54:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday night we had Grandma over to help decorate our gingerbread house. We thought it would be fun to have her join us this year. It was so nice to have someone help me with the frosting :)

Speaking of frosting...that royal icing was a royal pain in the behind. We had it in a bag with a small tip on it to do the details. We had to squeeze the bag so hard to get any out that the dang thing sprung a leak. Rather than scooping it into a new bag, I chose to try plugging the leak with my thumb. I iced my hands, I iced the counters, I iced the floor. It was a bit of a mess. I'm not very skilled with the icing. There was talk of thinning it with some milk but we chose not to do that too. I know, it would make more sense than squeezing a leaky bag until my hands cramp up so badly that they look like mangled hooks forever after. Making sense isn't always a priority with me.

Here is some of the aftermath of my handiwork:

So many members of the family are present in this picture: Grandma, the boys -- including our cute baby, House (reading a book on the couch), the TV... It warms the heart. I had envisioned the family all together, listening to Christmas music, laughing, talking -- like a Mormon ad. House envisioned watching SpongeBob and reading a book. It didn't feel Christmasy to force my vision on him so I let it be. This turned out to be a really fun time with his mom and the boys, and occasionally House popped over to check on things.

I thought this picture was really sweet :)

The boys were VERY into their decorating. I told Babes he could get on the table just this once so he could reach better.

This little guy had just woken up from a three hour nap. He was SO happy. This is the reaction I got every time I looked at him. I love this baby.

At the end of the evening, we gathered around the table for a picture. I've wanted a family portrait for a while now. I guess this will do. I'm going to have it blown up to hang over my fireplace ;)

Cornflake Christmas wreaths

2010-12-17T14:32:00.008-07:00

Do you make these? They are cornflake wreaths. You just follow the rice crispy recipe, but with the obvious substitution. We made them every Christmas when I was a kid so they're a must during the holidays. If I had to guess, I'd say my mom probably found them in Better Homes and Gardens. If you want a really easy treat for the kids to decorate, this is it. Much easier than sugar cookies.

I was lazy and used cheapy grocery store food coloring drops. I'm guessing that if I had used a paste, they would have been a much more convincing green :) We decorate them with red-hots (holly berries) and this year I let the boys use mini marshmallows too, which Babes couldn't stop eating.

If you want them to be pretty, I guess you could pipe on some ribbons or something. We're more about fun than pretty around here.

Buddy was particularly proud of the bottom, right one in this picture. He took a lot of care with his berry placement. Then he placed a single marshmallow on each one, as a "bow."

Note that these are on parchment paper. Do yourself a favor: if you decide to try these, do NOT skip the parchment paper. It is essential. Also, keep a pad of butter handy when you're shaping them. You'll need to butter your fingertips before each wreath. Trust me.

I asked them to lean together and smile. I like what they did better anyway.

I've been eating these darn wreaths since yesterday. I think I'd have to run a marathon to work them off. Like that's going to happen. No worries. There will just be more of me to love.

My baby. I love these boys.

Holidays past

2010-12-13T14:51:00.004-07:00

I was just looking at pictures of past Christmases and thought I'd share a few:

Our first Christmas with Charlie Brown. His eyes look like they might pop right out.

Young Charlie had no sense of humor. Bald is beautiful, Chuck.

I just realized those are the same pants I'm wearing today, which causes some mixed emotions. On the bright side, I'm wearing something I could wear six years ago. Yay me. But then, I'm wearing something I wore SIX years ago. And I'm going to bet they weren't brand new. When is someone going to put me on What Not to Wear and get me a new wardrobe???

Here's the next Christmas. I think he was happier because he had more hair. Baby wore these jammies to bed last night. He's wearing them today too. I'm sick, don't judge.

Another year passes.... My cute little helper. He still loves to make Pillsbury rolls.

This was our first Christmas with Babes. Guess what team House likes?

In their new jammies on Christmas Eve -- anxious for Santa to come.

I just liked this one. It was in December so...

Same jammies, but a year later. We thought he was in bed. When I went in to turn off the tree, there he was.

My family's reenactment of the nativity. Things got a little out of hand. That cute kid in the chair was 13 last year, and he was 6'1" or so. This year he's 6'5". He towers over all of us, but he is the sweetest kid ever.

And here's last year. We love to buy gingerbread house kits, we just aren't that talented at decorating them. But it's fun :)

Guess what the boys wanted the most of all?

Here's a story for you: we kicked off the month of December with a trip to Disneyland last year. See the button that Buddy is wearing? He was climbing on a railing, endangering himself, and was spotted by a Disney employee. He told Buddy to get down and then to be a nice guy, he gave Buddy the "I'm Celebrating" button. All I heard for the rest of the trip was "I got this for climbing on the railing!" Lesson learned?

That was our first Christmas with Baby. It's hard to believe it's been a year already. Guess who took his first steps today?

I love this time of year :)

Waaa

2010-12-12T10:26:00.002-07:00

Someone in this house is running a temperature and is being a big baby about it. And as annoying as that is, I just can't help myself. Waaaa. Sometimes don't you just want your mommy?

Jury duty

2010-12-07T16:47:00.012-07:00

I spent the bulk of my day in jury selection today -- or, as we who have studied law call it, Voir Dire. Ok, technically my degree is in Social Work, but I have seen every episode of Law and Order so I consider myself somewhat of an expert in the fields of law and order.

I think jury duty has some PR problems. I'm not a PR expert -- there hasn't been a good series about public relations -- but whenever I've heard anyone talk about jury duty, it's never with happiness. I wasn't very excited when I found out I'd have to report today. But what did I know? I've never served on a jury. And do you know what? My experience wasn't bad. I think with some good PR we could make jury duty sound like fun.

I would start by changing the name. "Duty" implies that it's something you have to do because of some kind of moral obligation, and that automatically makes it sound like a drag. What about a name that makes it sound exciting? Like "jury adventure" or "jury soiree." Wouldn't you rather get called to an adventure or a soiree?

And you could change it from a "call" to an "invitation" (that carries the threat of legal action should you choose not to attend). I might even be inspired to bring treats for the other jurors if I got invited to a jury soiree. As it was, I brought a book to "jury duty" and settled in for what I expected to be a long, boring day.

Here's something they don't tell you: jury selection is fascinating. There were all kinds of people there with all kinds of interesting reasons for being unable to serve on a jury -- such as distant cousins who are in prison, or neighbor's friends who were the victims of crimes. Things that left them so traumatized that they would be unable to render an impartial verdict.

Ok, I'm being a little facetious. For the most part, people were very sincere and willing to serve. There were only a few who seemed to be reaching for some reason to be excused. But truly, most of it was very interesting. And I met some very nice people.

All joking aside, I'm so glad I got excused. The party at jury selection was enough for me. I had the good fortune of being at the bottom of the list of potential jurors. They filled their jury box, starting at the top of the list, and sent the rest of us home. And I didn't even have to dress up like Princess Leia! Oh, Liz Lemon, I love you.

A conversation with Buddy

2010-12-06T17:33:00.000-07:00

"Mom, how much does a boat cost?"

"Well, that depends on what kind of boat."

"I mean the kind by 7 Eleven." [recreational boats for waterskiing]

"Oh, I don't know. Probably around $35,000 to start." [I'm probably way off. We aren't boaters.]

"That's all?! Well I'm going to be a doctor so I can probably afford one!"

"You're going to be a doctor?"

"Yeah. They make like $100 a day so I'll have lots of money."

I love that kid. I don't know what got him thinking about buying a boat. He's never even been on a boat. I'm glad he dreams big. Hopefully by the time he's a doctor he'll be able to make more than $100 a day.

My Christmas tree

2010-12-06T00:22:00.002-07:00

Tonight I entertained myself by taking pictures of my Christmas tree. This time I used my piano bench and a stack of gift boxes as a tripod (thank's again, Babes). Anyway, I mostly just wanted to try this new trick I learned:

Notice the stars? Is that cool or what?

I let the boys each pick a new ornament this year -- a new tradition. I like to have a pretty tree so I don't know what I was thinking:

I'm going to have such a Star Wars tree in a few years. This one belongs to Buddy. I couldn't get a good shot of the 8 inch tall, blown glass Darth Vader that Babes chose because it was hung too high on the tree -- to stop him from playing with it. At least I got to choose Baby's ornament:

I thought this little lion was too cute to pass up.

And here's my favorite part of the tree:

I got this one straight out of Better Homes and Gardens a couple of years ago. I thought it was such a cute idea. It makes my tree a little less serious. That issue also inspired me to replace every blasted ornament hook with pretty ribbons. It was a huge pain. I think in the end it was worth it though. And they store so much better without hooks!

Thanksgiving weekend

2010-11-28T20:08:00.002-07:00

Remember how we took our kids to Disneyland not too long ago? Total waste of money. Yesterday we had all of House's little nieces and nephews over for pictures. After we were done, all of the kids got creamsicles. In the middle of his creamsicle, Babes looked at me with those big blue eyes and told me it was the best day of his life. Creamsicle = best day of his life. We are on easy street with that kid from here on out.

As for the holiday, I hosted this year and I really had a good time. It was so nice to see everyone, especially those who live out of state.

I did a lot of cooking. I used a lot of butter. I think it was right around three pounds, actually. Does it sound less gross if I say that was for multiple dishes and it was for 18 people? Yeah, I know it's still gross -- but gross in a good way :)

My culinary highlights:

The turkey was fabulous :) Thank you Emeril for your brined and roasted turkey recipe! Don't you love foodnetwork? My favorite compliment? "I think that was the best turkey I've ever eaten."

Lion House rolls and honeybutter. They're not hard to make and they are unbelievable! And fattening -- because I butter them inside and out ;)

The Williams Sonoma cranberry chutney turned out great (and I'm not normally a fan of cranberry anything).

My pumpkin cheesecake, while hideously mangled, was absolutely delicious.

And lastly, I just have to pay tribute to the unsung hero of Thanksgiving: Stovetop Stuffing. When every other dish is such a production, it's nice to have something that only requires bringing water to a boil. Humble, delicious, Stovetop Stuffing, I love you.

There were a few disappointments among the recipes I tried. The gravy is not a do-over, and I don't think I care for buttermilk mashed potatoes. But overall, I really enjoyed the meal and the company.

And then I spent the next twenty-four hours feeling horrified that I might have poisoned everyone. I got so sick! I can't even begin to say how relieved I was to hear that everyone else was fine. Wouldn't that have been the worst Thanksgiving dinner ever? I don't think I could have lived that down. The trauma of poisoning my entire family would have haunted me for years. I would have ended up like Frank Costanza -- do you remember that episode? He had PTSD from having given his entire unit in Korea food poisoning. I love Seinfeld.

And all along, poor House was a good sport while he suffered through the worst man-cold I have ever seen him have. Such a sad waste of a long weekend :( So thankful it wasn't me ;)

Giving thanks

2010-11-21T13:54:00.004-07:00

As I walked around at church today, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had tucked the back of my skirt into my black control tops. I didn't. I checked no less than ten times. Almost immediately after checking, and relaxing, the feeling would creep over me again. I'd wonder if I hadn't checked well enough and I'd stop to check again. All the way into the chapel I was sweeping my hand over the back of my skirt, feeling my waist to make sure my slip hadn't come down, and pausing to look at my back side. (I have it so together.)

Then I realized what the problem was. Do you remember having dreams that you're in class and they announce a big test and you haven't studied? I always dreamed that I had forgotten I was registered for a class and then finally remembered on the day of the final (I'm not entirely sure that didn't really happen. seriously.).

This was like that kind of dream. I felt completely unprepared today. I had to sing a solo with the choir and I hadn't practiced like I'd wanted to. I was totally freaked out about making a fool of myself. And even when I had figured out the cause of my paranoia, I was still terrified of walking up to the stand with my skirt fanned out like peacock feathers around my big panty-hosed behind. It took a real effort not to check again.

In the end, the solo went ok -- not great. But I lived. More importantly, I didn't flash anyone. And now I have one more thing to be thankful for this Thursday. Well, two more things. I didn't break wind either.

A 3.0 mommy

2010-11-19T12:36:00.001-07:00

3.0. It was my grade point average, give or take, all through Jr. high, high school, and college. Not because I couldn't grasp the material -- unless it was math but that really shouldn't count. Math is a foreign language. Come to think of it, French doesn't count either. Anyway, It was a 3.0 because I am disorganized. I have zero short-term memory. So when it came time to turn in assignments, I simply forgot to. Throughout each school year I would amass stacks of completed assignments that I just didn't remember to hand over.

I have worked really hard in my adult life to overcome my disability. Believe it or not, I was really on top of things when I used to work. I had a system: keep it in sight and it will get done. Never put anything in a drawer or basket until it's finished. My desk had a lot of paper everywhere, but it worked for me. I use the same system now -- all over the island in my kitchen.

These days I use my calendar religiously, but some things just have to be remembered; routine things. A lot of the time I do really well. But, sometimes I don't. Like today. Sadly, I am a 3.0 mommy and probably always will be.

Buddy and I were half way to the bus stop this morning when it dawned on me that it is short day today. That meant that Buddy had already missed the bus by more than an hour. Curse short day! Why does school start and end at a different time one day a week?!

A 4.0 mom -- the kind who's kids get attendance awards every year -- would have thrown the kid in the car and driven him to school for the last hour (actually, a 4.0 mom wouldn't have forgotten short day in the first place). I am not that mom. The benefit of being a 3.0 mom, is that you have the flexibility to declare today a holiday, keep both boys home from school (because why wake the baby to take one to pre-school when the other is staying home anyway?), and let them watch Star Wars all afternoon in honor of our new holiday -- Star Wars Day.

Now I have some pop-corn to pop. Happy Star Wars Day, everybody!

Sunset on 11/17/2010

2010-11-18T08:54:00.012-07:00

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

- e e cummings

My words were insufficient. You didn't know I had a little culture, did ya? :)

The program

2010-11-14T16:48:00.003-07:00

I have mentioned before that Babes is loud. He speaks at two levels: whisper, and megaphone -- with nothing in between. I tell him a hundred times a day to use his quiet voice, and a hundred times a day he tells me, "I AM USING MY QUIET VOICE." The thing is though, he knows the difference. He just thinks it's funny. He understands he has super-human powers of volume and entertains himself with it.

Today was our Primary program. Every year in the Mormon church, the children put on a program that incorporates all of the values we've covered for the year, as well as all of the new songs they've learned. Usually each child has a small speaking part.

On the day of the program, the congregation is filled with smiling parents and grandparents, all there to support the kids and see what their little darlings will do. There's always a child who out-sings all of the others in a key all his own. And there's usually one or two who can't resist digging for treasure (you know, with a finger up the nose?). And then there are my boys.

This is the first year that Buddy hasn't swayed around with his hands over his ears, making a point of not singing AND not listening. This year he just pretended to shoot bad guys while he didn't sing. Progress.

And this was Babes' first year in the program. There was no predicting what he might do.

So everything was going smoothly. Each child stood at the microphone in turn and delivered their lines without incident. Then it was Babes' turn. With a look of mischief every mother dreads, he stepped up to the mic. and in silly voice at a volume only Babes can produce, he said his line, "I CAN HELP MY BROTHERS." Then, knowing that he is the funniest kid alive, he laughed maniacally into the microphone before taking his seat, "Heh, heh, heh, heh!"

And honestly, it was funny. I was laughing. Everyone was laughing. And that was exactly what he was going for. It sort of reminded me of this guy: