Hey! I heard that...

pretend play

2012-01-06T10:00:00.000-05:00

My boys like to play a game in which, after they have finished helping me in the basement, run as fast as they can up one fight of stairs, then the second, all the way to their room and to the "safety" of their beds counting down from 20. The object is to get all the way up before the "bomb", usually this is the washer or dryer, explodes.

Yesterday afternoon Red followed me down the stairs to the basement. I'll admit I'm a sissy when it means having to go to the basement alone. And I don't care what anybody says, there are monsters down there. Lucky for me though, Red is such a willing, light saber wielding, bodyguard. So with Blakeroo in my arms, led by my valiant bodyguard, I went down to start a load of laundry. Red pushed the button to start the washer which of course triggered the timer on the "bomb" and it began to tick: "20... 19... 18..."

Red started frantically yelling, "Run Mom, RUN!"

Blakeroo looked around excitedly, squealed and clapped his hands.

I humored Red, secured Blakers in both of my arms, and ran down the hall, turned the corner and began running up the stairs.

Red's shouts came from close behind me, "The bomb is going to detonate in only 13 seconds! Come on Mom! Light a fire under your rear and get up those stairs before we all die!" He continued to count down "... 12... 11... 10..."

I was laughing hysterically and thus could not run to save my life (kind of literally).

"This is not funny! Stop laughing! Laughing gets people killed!" Red takes this very seriously.

The three of us ran past Miss Ashley and the Professor, who both looked up from their school work at the kitchen table to take in all the commotion.

"6... 5... GO! GO! HURRY! FASTER! You won't be laughing if you kill us you know. You'll just be dead and sad!" Red shouted.

We made it up the stairs with only seconds to spare. I jumped on my bed with Blake, who was having the time of his life. Red ran in my room right behind us, slammed the door and dove onto the bed and under the blankets.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" He yelled and continued to count down, "... 1... 0!" Muffled sound affects of a bomb exploding came from beneath the blankets. It's over and thankfully we were safe. Blakeroo clapped his hands. I was out of breath.

That's when Red threw the blankets off of himself and made a face. "Mom." he said sternly, and I sensed a scolding. "We may be behind the safety of a titanium door, but you cannot be completely safe if you do not cover your head. Besides, what exactly do you think will happen if your head were to explode off?"

He immediately answers for me.

"You would be dead. That's what. Dead and sad. Next time cover your head or wear a helmet please. That is the rule."

Blake was still clapping. Apparently he had a helmet on because Red had nothing but praise for him.

so this is Christmas

2011-12-28T12:36:00.000-05:00

It is charity, love, kindness, peace, selflessness.... that make one a disciple of Jesus Christ and it is He whom we celebrate this season and whose life we ought to celebrate every day of our lives.

I really like this...

Jesus tempted

2011-12-19T13:05:00.000-05:00

Last night, just before we ate dinner Red said prayer. In his most serious voice he asked, "...please bless Jesus that he won't want to try to peek at his presents before his birthday..."

oh goodness...

if I were a bird...

2011-11-21T21:05:00.001-05:00

I love the change of seasons, Autumn being my favorite. It is such a beautiful season. I really like trading my short sleeve shirts for long layered looks and my flip flops for knee high socks. I love the chill in the evening air, a cup of hot cocoa, the crunch of crisp leaves under the feet of children out at play, and the trees that unabashedly bare themselves for all the world to see as they prepare for first winter snows.

Sometimes I miss the agreeable average year round 70 degree weather of southern California, spending the day at the beach in December and needing nothing more than a light jacket, but while living there I found that I missed the change of seasons more. I longed for the definite and obvious passage of time and I deeply missed the beauty that Autumn offered.

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." --George Eliot

Oh if I were a bird...

Thanksgiving is upon us and I would be amiss if I did not share a few things that I am thankful for. A few weeks ago a sweet friend bore her testimony during Sacrament meeting. She stated a number of things, but two stood out to me:

1. "I am grateful for a testimony."

I too am grateful for a testimony. While my life prior to gaining it was not a dark, lonely and dismal wreck, I certainly was not whole and complete. I knew that and I longed for something more, something that I knew I was missing.

I love the simple truths that the Gospel offers. I am grateful to know where I came from, who I am, the purpose of this mortal life and where it is that I am going. I have purpose. I am a child of God, a daughter of a most loving Heavenly Father who does in deed care for me, for each us. That alone lifts me from my burdens. I love to read the scriptures. I love the simple, yet profound truths found therein. I admit that I am not a daily reader, but I resolve to be because when I do take the time to read, and then apply what I have learned, I am better for it.

I cherish my testimony. I understand that it is a fragile thing and like love, it does not keep if not nourished properly.

and 2."Are you ready to hug a stranger?"

The priceless value of searching for and finding our ancestors is a beautiful and fulfilling obligation we each have. A few years ago I began tracing my mother's line back through her father, my Grandpa A. To be honest, I did not get far in the beginning because I became so enthralled in learning about the life of my great grandfather. It wasn't enough for me to simply write his name and birth date on the pedigree chart in front me.

Few photographs of me as a child exist, that I am aware of at least; one of them is a picture that was taken when I was about two or three years old. It appears to have been taken just after I had woke from a nap. I was wearing a pair of red corduroy overalls and I was sitting on the lap of an older gentleman, my great grandfather, laying against him, sucking my thumb. The photograph is my only real connection to my great grandfather as I have no memory of him. But as I learned about the kind of life he led, the contributions to society he made, how he loved his wife and children, the relationships he held with neighbors and friends, his likes and dislikes, his career, hobbies and talents... I felt as though a friendship was growing between he and I.

I don't want to depart from this life and enter the next only to be greeted by a crowd of strangers. I want to really know those that went before me so that when we embrace I will be able to hug more than a face with a name, I will be able to hug a family member and a friend.

I am grateful for the council we have been given to seek out and find our ancestors and I am grateful for the tools at our fingertips that aid us in doing so.

I am grateful for so many other things as well, only one of which I will mention: my dad. Though our relationship has not always been what I would have had it be, it is what it needs to be now. It was not until recently that I realized that he and I have so very much in common and I like that. I love you Dad.

What are you grateful for?

half way to one

2011-11-16T16:00:00.000-05:00

I woke this morning to Blakeroo repeatedly and excitedly kicking me in the back and all I could do was laugh as I thought H is for Hell. Red was laying on my bed next to him telling him stories, playing peek-a-boo and singing songs to him. Those two are buddies. Blake does this thing when he is really excited, he sort of takes in a big exasperated breath and makes a sound while doing so. It's his thing. It's cute and I love it. He was doing that repeatedly as he listened to Red's story. Red is often the first to greet Blakers each morning as he wakes and I seriously doubt there is anything so sweet as the smiles spread across both of their faces when they see each other.

Blake is six months old. Time certainly has passed by quite quickly. It seems like just yesterday that I held him in my arms for the first time. Just after he was born my midwife handed him right to me, our eyes met and he grabbed my shirt and held on tight. I held him close for a long time studying him, memorizing his features, and falling deeply in love.

So what has Blake been up to in the past six months? A lot of eating, smiling, crying, pooping, eating, sleeping, playing, learning, eating, laughing, growing... Did I mention eating? He loves his momma milk! He started eating baby food: rice cereal with apples, avocados, bananas, about a month ago. He was doing great and loved everything I offered him, whenever I offered it and reached for any food he thought he might have a good chance of getting his hands on until he was given a taste of sweet frosting. After that he shunned ALL food, making terrible ugly, cranky faces and blowing fierce raspberries to get it out of his mouth.

(Note to parents: post 'DO NOT FEED THE BEAR' signs all over your child when going to a get together of any kind and be sure that everyone, everyone holding your child knows the rule inside and out, lest Junior be fed all manner of everything you do not want him/her to be fed just yet.)

He's doing better, though now he tends to be rather picky. He'll tolerate rice cereal with apples, mixed with oatmeal with bananas, but only if it is the right consistency and the right temperature. It's rejected with the cranky face otherwise. He's coming around again to the bananas and avocados. He does love when I pack the mesh feeder (best invention ever! by the way) full of fresh peach slices and let him feed himself. There is never anything left when he's done.

Blakeroo is a big boy, but don't let all the cute baby chub fool you because just beneath it all is some serious muscle. He's a solid little fellow and quite strong! He is sitting up on his own now and happy to be doing so. He loves to play peek-a-boo, blow raspberries... he rolls his arms one around the other when he's happy (think Patty Cake... 'roll it, pat it, mark it with a'...), he loves to jump and play in the Johnny Jump-up and he loves, loves his dad.

He reserves his laughter and giggles for rare moments, mostly just before falling asleep, when he is ridiculously tired. It is only then that he simply cannot resist the sensation of kisses on his neck. I LOVE his laugh!

He likes his back to be rubbed, it calms him. He'll lay on his belly, very still as I rub his back, sometimes sucking his thumb, and often times he'll fall asleep.

Blake has a fantastic internal clock. At 3 o'clock pm every day he begins to get rather ornery and remains so until W. gets home from work a little thereafter. Once W. is holding him he is all smiles, excited kicks, big exasperated breathes in and bouncing up and down. It is much the same every evening at 7 pm sharp. He begins to get cranky and remains so until he's in the bathtub taking a bath.

Blakeroo is such a sweet baby. He is growing fast. His personality manifests itself more every day and I love it! He's such a fun little kid. I have enjoyed every moment spent with him these past six months. I love to watch him splash the water during his baths and I love to listen to his squeals of excitement as he plays with Miss Ash, the Professor and Red. I love reading books to him and watching as he soaks in the pictures and words I read from each page. It's fun to watch as he learns new things. I love the big toothless grin that spreads across his face when he sees his dad, but most of all I cherish the quiet moments late into the evening when I get to hold him close as he falls asleep.

♪ ♫ "Happy half a birthday to Blakeroo-oo...

Happy half a birthday to you!" ♫ ♫ ♪

"I lova lova you Blakers!"
-- Red

Halloween postponed

2011-11-06T10:00:00.000-05:00

A few days before Halloween it snowed... a lot. Within the first hour and a half, Miss Ash, the Professor and Red built a snowman. They named him Steve. If you notice, he has no arms. According to Red, "That's so he can't run away." Sadly Steve was destroyed the very next day by the not so nice next door neighbor boy. Poor Steve, he might have had a chance if he'd had arms.

Trick-or-treating was postponed due to the widespread and prolonged power outages that resulted from the snow storm. Unfortunately neither W. nor I knew of it being postponed until everyone was dressed and we were out the door. Hugely disappointing really.

Fast forward 5 days... Have you ever wondered if it would be weird to trick-or-treat in November? It is. W. dressed up as a gorilla and carried around Blakeroo, who was a super cute rhinoceros. Miss Ashley dressed up as Mary (the baby Jesus being a rather sad, beat up looking doll in pink pajamas), the Professor dressed up as Darth Vader and Red was a pirate.

Postponed, weird, whatever. We had lots of fun and really, that's what matters, right?!

rubbish vs NOT and a science project

2011-11-05T15:40:00.000-04:00

I came downstairs to throw something away after putting Blakeroo down for a nap and found three glass cups in the garbage. "Will?" I ask, "Why did you throw these cups away?" Sounding obvious the Professor replies, "Because there was no room in the cupboard for them."

FOR REAL??!

Once upon a time I threw a fork away. I scrubbed and scrubbed that blasted fork, to no avail. It just would not come clean so I threw it away in the garbage. I did, and to this very day I do not regret having done so. I have NEVER lived that down... ever. In my defense that fork did not match the rest of the silverware, it was a lone dunce and in my opinion, quite an ugly one at that. Plus it seriously would not come clean. Really I was ridding this world (and our silverware drawer) of a pest.

Have I mentioned that I have never Ever EVER lived that down? I haven't. From time to time my indiscretion is resurrected during a dinner table conversation... "Remember that time when Lexi threw away a fork?"

whatever.

Recently, for Science, Miss Ashley, the Professor and Red learned about French chemist Louis Pasteur (think pasteurization and vaccines). As part of our study we did a two part science project to learn about bacteria and fungi by growing them on agar in petri dishes, about antibiotics and about fungus (yeast) by making it react with sugar.

The following is the first part of the experiment:
First the agar was prepared then poured into two petri dishes. It cooled for about 30 minutes then each dish was divided into two halves by drawing a line, with a Sharpie, across the bottom of the petri dishes. The first dish, dish A, was then labeled 'A' representing 'antibiotic' on one side of the dividing line and No A or 'no antibiotic' on the other.

We talked about places around our home that were often touched and might be covered in bacteria and fungus. The bathroom doorknob was then selected as a good source and the Professor went to work collecting the bacteria by placing the sticky side of a piece of tape on one part of the knob and pushing down then pulling up, 3 times. He then took the tape to the prepared agar and touched the sticky side to the agar and gently rubbed it all over, covering the entire surface of the agar.

With a wooden spoon I smeared antibiotic ointment on the agar on the half of the petri dish labeled 'antibiotic'. I then placed the lid on the dish, secured it with tape, placed the dish in a ziplock bag and stored it in a location not reached by the sun.

the results after one week: nothing
the results after three weeks: see photo at end of post

So what about the second petri dish, dish B? We decided to compare the saliva of Miss Ashley and Red. A sample of saliva was collected and smeared over one half of the dish from each child and the dish was labeled appropriately. (It should be noted that both Miss Ashley and Red had not brushed their teeth since the night before this experiment was conducted, which was in the early afternoon.) The lid was then placed on the dish, secured with tape and was placed in the ziplock bag alongside dish A.

the results after one week: small area of black growth on the side labeled Ash
nothing on the side labeled Foxx (Red)
the results after three weeks: see photo below

conclusion, as written by Miss Ashley in her science notebook: "Antibiotics are medicines that kill certain bacteria and fungi. I need to brush my teeth."

conclusion, as written by the Professor: "I'd rather kiss Foxx goodnight than Ashley."

conclusion made by Red: "Yay my mouth is not grody! Antibiotics are helpful because they kill bad bugs."

So what does all this have to do with the Professor throwing away three glass cups and me throwing away a fork?

While I will continue to go on forever being remembered for having thrown away a fork, it probably won't be too long before it is forgotten that the Professor threw away the glass cups, however, Miss Ashley B. will not soon forget just how disgusting her saliva is...

Fast forward 20 years. It's Thanksgiving and everyone has come home for a week to visit. We are sitting around the table eating a delicious turkey dinner, laughing and sharing stories when the Professor says, "Hey guys, remember that science project we did? Do you remember how terribly disgusting Ashley's mouth was?!" We all laugh and make sour faces, Ashley's husband is intrigued...

Have you ever done something that everybody remembers, something that you have never been able to "live down"?

married for 9

2011-10-19T07:00:00.000-04:00

W. and I have been married for nine years. Unfortunately I don't have a "then" photo to share, those were the pre-digital days for us. Well for that matter I don't even have a "now"...

Miss Ash was helping me to hang some clothes in my closet a few days ago and stole a peek at my wedding dress hanging behind some skirts. Holding it up to herself and dreaming, as I suspect most little girls do, she asked, "Why do you love dad?" I thought for a moment then answered, "I don't know really. Do I need a reason? Does anyone need a reason to love someone else or be loved? I don't suppose so... I just do." "Good point." She replied.

I love W. for a thousand reasons all my own and for none at all, I love him because he is home to my heart and I love him because he loves me too.

Happy nine years W.

brothers

2011-10-15T08:00:00.000-04:00

I cannot begin to tell you just how happy this boy is to be a BIG brother... even now, 5 months later.

Red holding Blakeroo (one month old)

Red had it in his mind that Blakeroo would be born ready to play Legos, Star Wars, "Jeegeye Joes" and go outside to catch bugs with him. He was rather disappointed to learn that Blake could neither walk nor talk, let alone play with toys. For the longest time he was put out with the fact that Blakers took "too many naps" and commented often at the number of times he pooped. He said to me one day while I was changing Blake, "You're changing his diaper AGAIN?! oh my... He's quite possibly the poopiest kid EVER!" Red has gotten used to it all now though and is waiting ever so patiently for Blakeroo to "grow up so we can really play."

In the mean time these are a few of the things the two have been up to:

Red is teaching Blakeroo everything he knows about ladybugs and bees

Blakeroo loves books to be read to him and Red is very obliging

There is a five year difference between Red and Blakeroo, but I doubt that will deter these two from being the best of friends. Red cannot get enough of his little brother and Blakers always has a big smile for Red.

What's in a name?

2011-10-14T13:00:00.000-04:00

When our good friends Scott and Cat moved a few months ago, Miss Ashley, the Professor and Red were really sad. For the past year our two families had become close, doing lots of things together including Family Home Evening every Monday night. While Miss Ash and the Professor mostly understood the whys behind their moving, Red just didn't. He was terribly upset and over time he has become slightly bitter about it.

One afternoon, about a week after they had gone, he plopped down on the couch next to me and with a big sad sigh stated, "It's just not fun anymore now that Cat is gone." He was sad and he missed her.

Yesterday during school he had this to say, and in a rather grouchy bitter sort of voice, "Who would name their kid Cat anyway? That's an animal name for crying out loud."

At first I laughed just a little, the comment was completely random, but then several minutes later I really laughed. You see, Red's real name is Foxx.

run Jon... RUN!

2011-10-13T22:32:00.000-04:00

Back in August, W. ran a 5k. He finished 885 out of more than 6000 runners with a time of 24.40 and he ran an average pace of 7:57. To put things in perspective, the winner ran a time of 14.01 with a pace of 4:31.

This was a first for W. I love to run and as such I have, over the years, tried in vain to persuade him to run with me. He has refused over and over though, stating that he hates distance running. This past summer however, he got an itch to run and train with the eventual end goal of participating in a triathlon and found that he greatly enjoys the running part of it.

Our good friend Scott ran as well and finished just a few minutes behind W.

Way to go guys!

W. and Scotty, August 11, 2011

ring ring go away

2011-10-07T10:50:00.000-04:00

I still have a ringing in my right ear... but I also now have a funky random thumping in my left. It comes and goes. When it comes, it feels like my ear is full of water and I hear thumping. I feel like I can feel it too. The ringing in my right is the exact same, nothing changed. I suppose I have gotten used to it mostly; Blakeroo's crying, squeaks and all other manner of baby noise blocks it mostly, but in the quiet hours of the night, when I am awake nursing him, I hear it quite clearly and it's every bit as annoying.

fF: reunited

2011-09-30T08:00:00.000-04:00

May 5, 2006

Sometimes when you wait so long for something, your heart aches in a way that you don't even think is real. As an adult you can understand it, sort of, but when your child stares up at you, begging to understand something that simply cannot be explained, your soul cries from a far away place that doesn't even exist to most. Sometimes saying hello, embracing a stranger, your stranger, is harder than saying goodbye because you know deep within that that is exactly what you are about to do all over again.

putting away childish things

2011-09-29T15:00:00.000-04:00

This morning Miss Ashley informed me that she no longer wished to have toys in her room. She hadn't been playing with her My Little Ponies and princesses and doll house for a really long time so we had removed them to the basement last year. She wanted to keep her Littlest Pet Shop and Moxie Girls, but since has played with them maybe a handful of times? She is done with it all now though and has made it official by sending them down to the basement. She and I hauled the last of her toy bins down the stairs to be stored next to the others. And just like that, she grew up a little bit more.

mission call

2011-09-28T20:51:00.003-04:00

randomly, a week ago:
Very seriously Red says to me, "I am going to go to Antarctica on my mission."

I reply, "Um son? There are no people there, it's too cold for human habitation."

"I know that! The polar bears need the gospel too though."

"Polar bears live in the Arctic, not the Antarctic." I tell him.

"Well when I go to Antarctica there will be polar bears there. They will swim all the way down so that I can teach them great things."

"Okay Red. I wish you well."

end of conversation

randomly, today:
Red says, "I've changed my mind. I've decided that I am not going to go to Antarctica on my mission."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Well first of all I'd probably suffocate there because there's no warm air there aaand the polar bears probably will be pretty hungry by the time they get all the way there and they might not like the things I have to say and decide to eat me for lunch."

long pause...

"I just can't risk going out like that."

"Oh, um... okay. Good idea." I said laughing.

*stern face, even stern-er voice* "It's really not that funny Mom! Do you think this is a laughing matter?"

"Uh... no. Absolutely not." I reply, now trying really hard to NOT laugh.

Raising his voice for all to hear and sounding rather ticked off, Red says to no one in particular, "Apparently it's just so ridiculously funny to everyone that I am going to be a polar bear's lunch!"

I hug him tight, "I'm not laughing at you son. I would miss you A WHOLE LOT if a polar bear ate you for lunch!"

another long pause...

"Wanna know where I'm going to go on my mission, Mom?"

"Where?"

"I just don't know yet really, but I think I've got some time to think about it still. I'll know when I'm grown up."

elbows up!

2011-08-31T14:30:00.001-04:00

The following is evidence of pure stubborness.

picture taken the day after, on June 25, 2011

3 days later

4 days later

July 1, 2011

Doesn't this look like a mugshot?
July 9, 2011

same day as previous

and finally nearly completely cleared up, 19 days later

So what happened?

Much to Miss Ashley's dismay, the boys like to jump and play on her bed. Every morning she neatly makes it nice and straight, folding the extra blanket and placing it at the foot of the bed then arranging all her stuffed animals on her pillows. It's all in vain though because by the end of the first hour, post bed making, it is destroyed, blankets and pillows and stuffed animals tossed here and there.

A favorite game the boys like to play is 'Timber'. Are you familiar with Timber? They stand at the foot of the bed and shout "TIMBERRRR!" as they fall forward, arms at their sides, onto their faces. It's great fun for them. Even Ash can't resist laughing and joining in despite her grumblings about her bed being "ruined".

One particular day Red wanted to play Timber, but the Professor was laying on Miss Ash's bed and when asked, adamantly refused to move. So Red decided to fall anyway, right on top of his brother.

Later, Red told me that he thought the Professor would move. And if he didn't? "Well I'd just land on him and crush him and then the next time he'd be sure to move."

That plan backfired, obviously.

Red fell right on top of the Professor alright! The Professor shielded his face as he saw his brother falling and by doing so, his elbows were pointed upward. Red caught one of those elbows to the eye and for several minutes a banshee scream is all that could be heard.

Several days after, I asked Red if he learned anything from the incident. "Yes Mom, I did. I learned to shove Will onto the floor before having fun."

say goodbye George

2011-08-30T08:00:00.002-04:00

That's George Costanza. He now 'sleeps with the fishes'.

A few weeks ago W. found him floating around the tank belly up. He was a bit rushed to get out the door and leave for work and everyone was still asleep so he plopped him in the toilet and informed me not to flush it until he got home.

"Why didn't you just leave him in the tank?" I wondered. I was told, however, that General Grievous was having a little too much fun with the carcass.

It seems weird to me to waste time hating a goldfish, and yet I do.

W. insisted that we pay our respects before flushing George down the toilet. I can understand that, but really? The thing floated around for 8 hours. Obviously nobody could use that toilet.

When there is a line to use the restroom IN YOUR OWN HOME because the aquatic sea life, or lifeLESS in this case, is 'decroding' in one toilet causing a line at the door of the other, that's just silly.

I was outnumbered though and told to "get over it".

Fine.

When W. arrived home we all gathered into the bathroom and around the toilet. It was requested that I take a picture, lest we forget, and say a prayer. I'm pretty sure this was one of those times that God was laughing His butt right off.

Everyone was solemn for the few moments we took to remember our fish before running off to eat ice cream. W. was actually quite saddened and the Professor informed us all that, "Even though Batman was my fish" (and there by loyal to him), "I always secretly loved George the best."

Leaving a dead fish in the toilet for 8 hours is ridiculous, but I have to admit, George will be missed. He was a good fish, whatever that can possibly mean, and he was smart.

Rest in peace George Costanza.

got milk?

2011-08-29T14:56:00.001-04:00

no, seriously...

To say that we love milk is quite an understatement. It is not the first drink of choice by most in this family though, water is.

How long do you think that many gallons lasts at our house? For guessing purposes we are a family of 6, Blakeroo is breastfed though, so he doesn't count, although we do frequently have a certain visitor who drinks his share of milk as well, so 6 milk drinkers-- three adults, three kids.

If you guessed about 6-7 days, you are correct.

Now that's a lot of milk!

earthquake

2011-08-23T15:27:00.003-04:00

I was sitting in the kitchen at the table this afternoon, Blakeroo was in his swing next to me while Miss Ashley, the Professor and Red were out in the backyard playing with their friends when I felt my chair shaking. It was more of a forceful back and forth sway really. I looked up from what I was doing, looked around and sort of panicked. I looked around again and again and half stood up ready to defend myself and my baby from who or whatever.

Blakeroo, who previously had been near asleep, was now wide awake and crying. Sort of freaked out, I grabbed my phone and with one hand on Blake, calming him, I called W.

Just as he answered I noticed that the water in our fish tank was sloshing back and forth and that's when I realized it... I had felt an earthquake.

The whole thing lasted for about 5-10 long seconds and it felt as if I were swimming in a wave pool, being rhythmically shoved back and forth.

I remember the earthquake that shook the San Fransisco Bay area in 1989. I was 7 years old. We lived in Sacramento, California, Orangeville to be exact. My dad had come home from work and settled on the couch in front of the television with a glass of milk and a chunk of cheese to watch the news, as was his daily routine. We had a large fish tank in our living room and just below it housed our pet guinea pig.

We of course felt the shaking, then watched helplessly as the water in the fish tank sloshed back and forth with such violent force causing water to splash out onto the floor. Our guinea pig was chatting and yelping and running scared around her house. The news reported the incident immediately, confirming our thoughts on what had just happened.

The swimming shaking feeling I felt today, it seemed familiar to me when I felt it, but I didn't make the connection until I saw the water in the fish tank.

The local news didn't report the earthquake immediately, but when it finally did I was surprised to learn that the center of the quake was in Richmond, Virginia! It was a 5.8 magnitude (there are varying reports on this) and felt throughout much of New England.

No damage to report thankfully, just one scared baby boy and a slightly freaked out mom. Though our cell phone service was disrupted throughout the remainder of the afternoon and into the evening, this was due to very high call volumes, across all networks and carriers, going in and out of the East Coast.

a tin foil hat

2011-07-30T08:00:00.016-04:00

W. has a co-worker who is… well, how should I put it? a bit quirky… weird…. He eats soap.

Yes, seriously, a tablespoon of Borax Soap every single day. I can’t imagine what that would do to a person… what it does to him. W. mentioned this randomly to me one day and I thought well, maybe he likes the taste of it or maybe it’s one of those odd cravings… I dunno.

Then the emails started to come.

Serious articles or silly jokes, I couldn’t decide. The benefits of eating soap, alien control, mind controlling hidden messages on the cover of magazines… that sort of thing and that’s just the beginning.

Apparently this guy wears copper in his shoes and tin foil in his hat. Yup, serious about that too. Something about government mind control and aliens… think Matrix.

I keep thinking this very special person just missed his spaceship. Halebop and the Heaven’s Gate peeps come to mind. Nikes, black sweatshirts and sweatpants… so many similarities there.

I try not to laugh, really I do.

W. says he is a genuinely nice guy and doesn’t mind his company and conversation. He says he has some thought provoking ideas and theories, but at times has a hard time keeping a straight face himself. I’m sure he is a nice guy, differences of thought and idea certainly do not make a person not nice. Weird maybe, but I’d say we are all a little weird in our own way.

Where am I going with this?

About two weeks before Blakeroo was born, I noticed a sort of ringing in my right ear. I wouldn’t say it is so much a ringing as it sounds like two different radio frequencies randomly switching back and forth. I hear it constantly. I’ve of course taken steps to eliminate the sound, all to no avail. It’s irritating to say the least and there have been moments that I have wondered if I was beginning to go mad.

Then one very very, very late night (you know that hour when everything and everyone is so ridiculously funny even though it’s all really not, but you are so beyond tired that you hysterically and obnoxiously laugh at it all anyway until you pee your pants? yes, one of those late nights) W. and I decided to test his co-worker’s theory that the government just might be attempting to control my mind.

Our defense... aluminum foil.

I will be quite honest, a teeny weeny teensy tiny part of me wanted to believe and hoped that the tin foil would do the trick and I’d be free at last from this most annoying noise. If it did I swore I’d put some stock into the things "Soap Eater" had to say. Hey, maybe Borax is good for the intestines…

Needless to say, it didn’t work and that same teeny weeny teensy tiny part of me was disappointed.

On the bright side, I now have my very own tin foil hat.

(there is suppose to be a picture of me wearing my shiny tin foil hat *here* but W.'s lame phone is being... lame)

character

2011-07-29T14:00:00.001-04:00

Recently I finished a book titled Striking The Root: Essays on Liberty by Lawrence W. Reed. The body of the book is comprised of, you guessed it, essays on liberty, written and given over the years by the author. The book is written from a Libertarian perspective, but anyone interested in small government, lower taxes and self reliance... or even the opposite... might be interested, regardless of political association.

Many things stuck out to me while reading, my ideas on one particular topic were even challenged and my prior beliefs changed. It surprised me. As I read and reread I found myself understanding on a different level and though I still feel the same about the act or idea itself, my personal actions toward dealing with the idea, have altered.

I’d like to share one quote from the book that caught my attention… First, growing up there were two particular framed works that hung on the walls of our home. Both were small and of little material value, however it was their messages that deeply rooted themselves in my mind. One was a scripture found in Joshua and another was a stained glass work of art with a quote, the words which now have escaped my memory, unfortunately. The impact of seeing and reading those two framed works every single day throughout my youth shaped a part of me.

The following quote, I believe, has at least earned a spot on the fridge for all to see and read. I hope that as my children read it and come to understand it’s meaning that it will take hold in their hearts and minds and impact them as those two framed works, the scripture and quote, did me.

“A person’s character is nothing more and nothing less than the sum of his choices. You can’t choose your height or race or many other physical traits, but you fine-tune your character every time you distinguish right from wrong and act accordingly. Your character is further defined by how you choose to interact with others and the standards of speech and conduct you uphold.”

-- Lawrence W. Reed, Striking The Root: Essays on Liberty; Joe Overton: Character for a Free Society

three of 4

2011-07-27T16:50:00.002-04:00

Aren't these three of the cutest kids ever?

I of course think so.

squeaker

2011-07-22T15:05:00.004-04:00

Red received a book last Christmas titled Children Make Terrible Pets, by Peter Brown. For a while thereafter we read it almost daily until it got lost under the stack of books in our makeshift library. Recently it has resurfaced and again become a favorite. It makes us all laugh when it is read, especially when W. reads it with character voices.

We happen to have our own little “Squeaker”, which we lovingly call him so because he really does squeak. When he sleeps, he squeaks; when he nurses, he squeaks; when he’s in the bath, he squeaks, when he’s cooing at me… he squeaks. It’s really kind of funny and oh so very sweet! He even squeaks when he cries, but those are sad squeaks.

I love my sweet Squeaker!

*squeak!*

Blake

2011-06-28T13:00:00.005-04:00

We have another sweet little boy! All that hoping for a girl… I remember looking down at him, just seconds after he was born, I saw his face; his cheeks and his big eyes then his hands and toes and fell in love, then I noted his gender. I didn’t care that he wasn’t the little girl that I had hoped for, that we all had hoped for, he was perfect and beautiful and he was finally here in my arms.

Blake Emerson Alexander was born at home at 4:01 am on May 16th. He weighed 8 lbs, 4 oz and measured 21 inches from head to toe. Blake is such a handsome little fellow and so sweet! W. loves to remark on the size of his melon, it measured just shy of 15 inches. He is very proud of that… I am just very relieved that I came through it unscathed.

Blake came 11 days late. I was due on the 6th, but that day came and went, as did the next and the next and the next… Just after 1 am on the 16th I slowly woke to one contraction after another. Was this finally it? I would have been jumping up and down thrilled had it been any other time of day and I wasn’t exhausted, but I was and I just wanted to sleep so I laid there trying to ignore each contraction, not wanting to admit what I knew to be true, that labor had begun, and I desperately tried to go back to sleep. That didn't work out very well; something to do with the growing discomfort? So I got up and went to the bathroom. Yup, definitely in labor. I was now wide awake.

I woke W. and let him know. “What?! You’re now just telling me?!” was his response. “Well I’ve only known for about 15 minutes myself, Cheetah.” was mine. I headed back to the bathroom at this point and that’s when my water broke. W. called my midwife immediately, she contacted her two assistant midwives and all three were on their way. He then called a friend of ours who had previously and graciously agreed to take our children when the time came. She was excited to be woke up in the dead of the night. I don’t know that I would have been, but she was and I was thankful.

About 20 minutes later our kids were kissing me goodbye. Red came back a second time after everyone else had gone down the stairs and outside to get in the car. He gave me another kiss and wrapped his arms around me tight. We hugged for a long time then he said to me, “Be super brave Mom. I miss you and I love you and I miss you and I’ll see you later.” And then he was gone. I don't know who was more anxious, him or me.

From the first contraction to birth was 3 hours. I have never felt so incredibly exhausted in all my life. I remember saying over and over again, "I am so tired... I'm so tired" And I was.

Blake is ridiculously cute and so loved. Red can't go ten minutes without giving him a kiss. He absolutely loves his little brother. Periodically throughout the day Miss Ash and the Professor stop whatever it is that they are doing to give him a kiss or to talk to him and all three constantly ask to hold him.

I only thought that I wanted a girl, but what I really wanted was Blake.

31 days

2011-04-05T22:20:00.003-04:00

Just 31 days to go! I don't have any pictures of my pregnant belly yet, but I suppose I ought to remedy that for posterity's sake before it's too late.

For those who are impatient and have been asking for a picture, here is one of me 5 1/2 months pregnant with Red:

I look pretty much the same now except with a little bigger baby belly.

A few weeks ago Red decided to tell some friends of ours about W. and I showering together.

Now I'm not so naive as to think that my kids don't go to Primary or to other people's houses for play dates and tell some pretty juicy stuff, but I am never there to hear it so my face is not seen turning three shades of red with embarrassment.

Nothing exceptional happened in the shower mind you, he simply told about his version of what he overheard and that was that "My dad is a water hogging fat lard who was taking up all the room in the shower so that mom couldn't get passed him to get under the water."

Really what happened is that I nearly knocked W. over and out of the shower shoving past him to get under the water.

I love that my children, or at least the younger two, still believe that I'm practically perfect in every way!

What's for dinner?

2011-04-04T16:21:00.000-04:00

Cheeseburger Macaroni, or 'Cheesy Mac' as W. calls it, is not typically my 'cup of tea'. I dislike "Yellow Death" (Macaroni and Cheese) and adding hamburger to it just sounds uber grody to me so I generally make a face when it is suggested for dinner and W. gets the hint.

A few weeks ago I saw this on a blog I follow and craved it instantly:

Cheeseburger Macaroni

W. was surprised, but of course did not argue. The recipe and more pictures can be found at Kevin and Amanda.

I had almost everything on hand and what I didn't, I improvised:
ground turkey instead of ground hamburger/beef
stewed tomatoes chopped and undrained instead of the diced tomatoes
water instead of the broth
fresh ground pepper instead of the seasoned pepper

It was really good tasting and made for yummy left overs.

Tonight we are having this:

Honey Lime Enchiladas

Enchiladas are a favorite around here. Unfortunately I don't make them as often as W. would like me to, but when I saw this over at Just Cook Already, I knew immediately what we were having for dinner.

oh YUM!

What are you having for dinner?

how to train your husband

2011-04-02T21:59:00.000-04:00

How to get your husband to stop reading to you what he believes to be "interesting parts" of the ultra lame book he is reading?
Load a copy of Twilight on your iPod bookshelf and began reading it to him.

How to get the attention of your husband when he is ignoring you, pretending to read his book?
Say 'donkey' over and over 100 times. It's especially helpful when one of your children is next you intermittently making braying sounds.

How to get him to make dark chocolate brownies for you?
Send your super cute 4 year old in to beg "pretty please with lots and lots of cherries and kisses on top" on your behalf. Be sure to instruct said super cute 4 year old to wink and flash his dimples.

Stay tuned for more on 'how to train your husband'...

You Will Be Freed

2011-03-29T15:00:00.002-04:00

Countless times over the years I have heard it said that "once an addict, always an addict." For those who struggle with an addiction, those are the darkest most terrible and hopeless words. Why try? Why change? Why even bother in an attempt to overcome?

I absolutely do not believe that an addict will always be an addict. If that were true, then the Atonement of Jesus Christ is a lie... and I do not believe that it is. In fact I know that it isn't. It is through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, that all can be transformed, cleansed, and freed from addiction.

Several years ago I went to an addiction recovery meeting for the first time. I went with a loved one who struggled with an addiction. Before entering the room where I knew I would be sitting among others who struggled daily with various addictions, my mind was filled with all kinds of thoughts. What kind of people would be there? What sort of choices had they made in their lives? Who had they hurt? Did they care? Why did they make these choices over and over again?....

I possessed only a general understanding of addiction. In my mind I had judged the people who would be there, long before I ever saw them or met them or heard the words they came to share. For a long time prior I had been judging those who struggled with addictions. My heart was full of anger and hatred, I was hurt and felt betrayed and every single person around me who struggled with an addiction, especially those who struggled with addictions of a sexual nature, I felt disgust toward.

As I sat in that meeting, in the large circle among the men and women in attendance and I listened to their ideas, the stories they were sharing, the words of hope and frustration, encouragement and strength, I began to feel in my heart an incredible love that manifested itself so deeply within me. I recognized the familiarity of it immediately. Somewhere, some part of me had felt it in abundance at some time in my existence, though until that moment I did not realize that I had ever truly felt it before. It was a love, so pure and so profound, a Christ like love; it was the pure love Heavenly Father had for me.

As I felt that love pierce my heart and spirit and spread throughout my entire being, I began too to feel it for all those around me. I realized that each one of these people were not so different than me. I had judged wrongly. All the previous thoughts and judgments that had filled my mind faded away and though I did not know anyone around me, with the exception of the loved one whom I was attending the meeting with, I felt a pure and brilliant love beyond even my own comprehension for every single person in that room. I learned then what it meant to love as God loves, see as Christ sees and know without doubt that we were, and are, all truly sons and daughters of God.

I will never forget the beautiful lesson I learned that day.

Since then, with love in my heart and a desire to understand so that I might better support my loved one who struggles, I have sought out to learn all that I can about addiction; how it affects an individual both spiritually and mentally and how those who struggle can overcome and be free. I have studied addictive behavior quite a bit and continue to do so and I have learned many things. I have been able to attend many more addiction recovery meetings both of the 12 step variety, al-anon, religious sponsored and other programs developed to assist the addict to learn to overcome their addiction on a more scientific level.

The brain science behind addiction is simply fascinating! I love learning about it and am constantly amazed at just how simple it all really is. It can be applied to even every day habits that we might have (nail biting) and certainly addictions that we may not perceive or are not yet ready to admit as addictions, but when it comes right down to it can't function each day without (Diet Coke, chocolate, television, video games).

It is my belief, backed by countless individual success stories from all around the world, that an understanding and application of the brain science, wherein one learns and applies the lessons of retraining their brain, coupled with the spiritual aspects of overcoming an addiction, especially that of applying the Atonement to one's life, both absolutely essential to becoming addiction free, one can be just that.

I believe with my whole heart and I know that those who struggle with an addiction, an addiction of any kind, that it does not have to be permanent. We are all sons and daughters of a Heavenly Father who loves and knows each one of us, including those who are, for time, bound in dark isolated places by addictions. The addiction is not who the person is. I once heard it stated that "You are not what you have been, but you are the possibility of what you can become." I believe this is true for us all, and particularly true for those who currently struggle with an addiction of any kind. Applying the proper understanding and know how, applying the teachings of Jesus Christ and the Atonement to one's life can only serve to conquer all fear and doubt and allow for an individual to be made whole from all corruption and sin, including addiction.

The above clip, from a General Conference talk given in October of 2010 by Elder M. Russell Ballard, is a beautiful reminder that there is hope, there is healing and there is the opportunity to be free.

Addiction Recovery Resources:
LDS Family Services Addiction Recovery Program (all addictions, services available for LDS and non LDS alike)
Combating Pornography (pornography)
Candeo (focuses on healthy sexuality, however the education and lessons and the application thereof, regarding the brain science of addiction, are universal to all addictions)
Alcoholics Anonymous (alcohol)
Narcotics Anonymous (narcotics)
Overeaters Anonymous (overeating)
Gamers Anonymous (video games)

This is obviously not a comprehensive list, however it is one to get you started should you or a loved one be interested.

Might I also suggest a few books:
LDS Family Services Addiction Recovery Program Manual (all addictions, PDF format)
He Did Delivery Me From Bondage by Colleen C. Harrison (all addictions)
Love You, Hate The Porn by Mark Chamberlain PhD and Geoff Steurer MS, LMFT (pornography)
Alcoholics Anonymous by AA Services (alcohol)

30 things

2011-03-24T16:00:00.001-04:00

30 things you may or may not know about W., one for each year of his life:

1. he has a partial photographic memory
2. he wears “goggles” when he plays basketball

3. he cries during movies like Jane Eyre, but laughs during ones like Black Hawk Down

4. he is an inventor

5. he likes everything… except mustard pretzels and blueberries
6. he ate month old ham once, unbeknownst to him, and of course got incredibly sick
7. he is allergic to dust mites and some random tree that grows only in remote parts of Africa

8. he was awarded the Distinguished Military Graduate, graduating 1^st in his class at both A and C School during his service in the US Navy

9. he removed his own braces, when he was a teenager, with a pair of pliers
10. his southern accent returns when he gets angry
11. he likes to read fantasy novels

12. he plays the tuba

13. he was one of two Salutatorians at his high school graduation
14. he snores… and talks in his sleep
15. he has a wonderful singing voice and an amazing vocal range

16. he loves to play chess and is rather good at it too

17. he HATES cats
18. he was a lifeguard for several years in his youth
19. he will watch a movie To. The. Bitter. End. no matter how ridiculous and pointless and just plain terrible it might be (Rubber is one such movie, it's about an inanimate tire with destructive telepathic powers... yes seriously.)

20. he can dance like Napoleon Dynamite (yes, there was some practicing involved as seen to the right)

21. he cannot grow a mustache, full beard? yes! but no ‘tache’
22. he is not ticklish... except, for rare instances, on his neck

23. he sticks his tongue out when consecrating

24. he can hold his breath under water for over four minutes

25. he was a cheerleader in both high school and college

26. he has played, coached and refereed soccer all his life

27. he absolutely loves swimming

28. he loves watching cartoons

29. he had never eaten a peach until about 3 years ago... (he's from Georgia "The Peach State")
30. he has a slight fear of spiders

Here's to the next thirty years and more... Happy 30th Birthday, Jonny W.!

seven

2011-03-20T12:30:00.000-04:00

SEVEN reasons why I LOVE this boy:

one. his sense of humor
two. his determination
three. his directness
four. his persistence
five. his laugh
six. his creativity and intelligence
seven. his sweet, sweet heart

Happy Happy Birthday Will Bear!
Love You!

Fail

2011-03-18T12:39:00.003-04:00

For ten points, what state-level government agency will NOT accept a military ID, which shows a photo, the social security number, date of birth and the signature of the card holder, as a form of identification BUT will allow a social security card?

If you guessed the DMV, pat yourself on the back.

I'm just curious exactly how a social security card, which has nothing more than a name and number, can trump the photo AND social security number, date of birth, plus signature when presented by the ID holder along with a current driver's license.

Doesn't make sense.

ugly goldfish are NOT cheap

2011-03-17T13:15:00.000-04:00

A goldfish seems like a perfectly good fish to have. They need very little to no care, adapt well to any aquatic environment, being bottom feeders they are excellent tank cleaners and at 15 cents a fish are easy on the wallet. If goldfish were all you chose to fill your tank with really there would be little to no need for even a filter, thus saving you money and time as well.

So what happens when your husband decides to add not one, but three ugly goldfish, whom your children lovingly name 'General Grievous', 'Batman' and 'Flash' to your serene and lovely fish tank which houses a rather jolly little black molly named 'George Costanza' and his friendly sidekick 'Arg the Pirate', the resident algae eater?

chaos. that's what.

Within days the fish were not visible, AT ALL, through the once crystal clear turn murky yellowish brown water. The once perky and social George was now a rather sluggish and skiddish George. Arg was just ornery. And really who wouldn't be when a big ugly goldfish sporting the name of a ruthless villain constantly steals your food right off the top of your head and gets too close to your eyeballs?

"But goldfish are so cheap!" Was W.'s prime reason for buying them. He wanted more fish, but didn't want to pay $2-$5 or more per fish. Cheap my hind foot, as my Granny used to say. The other night W. walked out of the local pet store with a comprehensive water read out, a new fish bowl, a bag of rocks and an aquarium vacuum cleaner. The water read out was free, but still time is money and all that sort of thing.

The three "fat lards" as I call them are now housed in their own little fish bowl, George is back to being jolly and only Arg eats Arg's food.

Cheap ended up costing us a total of $8.00 and some change plus 15 cents multiplied by three, $15.00 for a bag of rocks and whatever the cost of the vacuum, plus now we have two fish tanks. Factor in the cost of the extra food and well you guessed it, goldfish are not so cheap.

Did I mention that they are ugly?

peace

2011-03-16T12:00:00.000-04:00

boy or girl

2011-03-15T16:00:00.000-04:00

We are getting ready for the baby's arrival; buying diapers and Lanolin, washing the car seat and blankets... It was so weird to buy diapers. We haven't bought them for the past almost 3 years. I don't know why, but it just seemed so out of place to me.

The other night I had a dream that we had a boy. I don't know what we are having and I didn't 'feel' one way or another really until after I awoke from the dream. Oddly it was then that I felt a little more like we were having a girl. Miss Ash, the Professor and Red are hoping for a girl and W. thinks and feels like we are having a girl too. I asked him why he thought and felt that way and he gave me some long geeked out sciency explanation that, in the end, was mostly based on emotion. I try not to think too much about it, but to be quite honest I really do want another girl too... as evidenced with a few of my purchases.

I hoped for a girl when I was pregnant with Red. When he was born W., who didn't really care one way or another, excitedly shouted, "There's a lot of red hair... and... and it's a boy!" He was so happy. I remember that and to think of it now makes me smile. On the other hand though, a slightly sarcastic and disappointed, "That's nice." was my reply. I was exhausted. But the moment that Red was placed on my chest I was deeply in love. There was something so special about him, something that even to this day I can feel is apart of him, but I can't quite put together in my mind or in words what it is. From that moment forward it didn't matter to me that he wasn't the girl I had hoped for because, as it turned out, he was exactly what I had hoped for.

Boy or girl, I think it will be the same when this baby is born.

sick

2011-03-10T15:25:00.002-05:00

Monday Miss Ash was sick with a 24 hour stomach flu. W. came home during lunch to clean up vomit from off her bedroom floor and wall and disinfect the bathroom. I attempted, but the smell made me sick so I grabbed my phone headed downstairs, opened the windows and called W. "Pretty please! can you take an early lunch and come home?!" My own knight in shining armor pulled into the driveway less than ten minutes later.

Wednesday morning, around 3am, Red climbed in bed between W. and I complaining that his stomach hurt. I wasn't feeling so great either. Shortly thereafter he vomited all over.

Have you ever washed your car just to have it rain the very next day? Yup, that's sort of what happened. I had washed our sheets and blankets just the day before. They smelled so fresh and clean...

About 20 minutes later I was in the bathroom, W. holding my hair away from my face and rubbing my back.

When Miss Ash got sick I knew it was only a matter of time before we all did. Now with one better and two down, just two to go...

By morning the Professor was right there alongside Red and I, sick and miserable and achy.

Red and I spent pretty much the entire day in my bed sleeping while Miss Ash and the Professor watched Batman. W. came home from work not feeling so great, but by then both the Professor and Red were feeling a whole lot better.

Today, the kids have pretty much entertained themselves and each other. I'm so thankful that they are feeling better. W. is on the mend, taking it easy, and I am feeling much better too.

Want to hear the irony of it all? In early January we went to Chili's for dinner one night. Red got food poisoning. On Tuesday kids ate free, with a coupon, at Chili's. It was the first time we had been back since. Red was hesitant, but ordered a grilled cheese sandwich with a side of corn and chocolate milk to drink. You can't go wrong with that, eh?

He said to me yesterday, "Who's crazy idea was it to go to Chili's anyway?" I had to laugh. I of course explained to him that it wasn't food poisoning, but rather the stomach flu, like Miss Ash had on Monday. "Oh, 'whadever'. I'm never eating at Chili's again, ever in my whole life."

Sorry Chili's, you've lost a customer and though I know better, I dare say, I'm with Red on this one. It's an association thing.

bathroom conversation

2011-03-08T14:00:00.000-05:00

I was minding my own business, doing my business, when in walks Red...
"Mom! I defeated the sentinel. Well, Will helped me, but I still defeated him too and Will destroyed he's nostril! It was so funny! *laughing* Do you know how to defeat the sentinel?"

"No." I reply.

"You just do. That's how." (Hey, I bet you didn't know that.) "Okay, well I'll let you finish going number one. Bye mom!"

the Pinocchio paradox

2011-02-28T08:00:00.009-05:00

Did you know that Pinocchio's sentence "my nose grows now" could be neither true nor false, which means his nose grows if, and only if, it does not grow?

I love Wikipedia for the sometimes useless facts and other bits of knowledge posted to their front page.

Read all about the The Pinocchio Paradox.

Prince Charming: "You! You can't lie! So tell me puppet... where... is... Shrek?"
Pinocchio: "Uh. Hmm, well, uh, I don't know where he's not..."
Prince Charming: "You're telling me you don't know where Shrek is?"
Pinocchio: "It wouldn't be inaccurate to assume that I couldn't exactly not say that it is or isn't almost partially incorrect."
Prince Charming: "So you do know where he is!"
Pinocchio: "On the contrary. I'm possibly more or less not definitely rejecting the idea that in no way with any amount of uncertainty that I undeniably..."
Prince Charming: "Stop it!"
Pinocchio: "...do or do not know where he shouldn't probably be, if that indeed wasn't where he isn't. Even if he wasn't at where I knew he was, that'd mean I'd really have to know where he wasn't."

illegally parked

2011-02-24T22:15:00.000-05:00

Earlier tonight we were running around taking care of some last minute preparations for the Cub Scout's Blue and Gold Banquet. Our last stop was at the local grocery store for dinner rolls. Being in a bit of a hurry W. parked in a handicapped parking spot.

Now before you get your panties all in a bunch you should know that we never Ever EVER park in handicapped parking... ever. In fact W. is such a ridiculously overboard law abiding citizen in regards to parking that 99% of the time we find ourselves parked at the very back far corner, the one most people don't even know exists because it is so far out there, and the first 10 minutes of our shopping experience is taken up by the hike to the entrance of the store.

There was just simply no time for that this evening, but the parking lot was pretty full so I suggested that since W. was going to be running in, leaving the rest of the family waiting in the car with the heater ablaze, The Backyardigans turned up and everyone singing along, to park in front of the store along side the curb.

W.: "What if there's a fire?"
me: "Whattaya mean 'What if there's a fire?' Don't park in the red zone and you won't have to worry about it."
W.: "Firetrucks are bigger than that, Doll."
me: "Jonny, listen to me, we drive a Jetta. A JETTA. It's practically a bread basket on wheels. The firetruck will fit just fine and if not, I'll be right here. I'll simply slide into the driver's seat, put the car in first and pull into a different parking spot."
W.: "I'm not going to risk it. I'm parking right here." And with that he pulled into the handicapped parking space.

Now again before your feathers get ruffled and you huff and puff about terrible, horrible, no good people who park in the handicapped parking spaces, you should know that there were PLENTY, and by plenty I mean like four other handicapped parking spaces available. I looked around and took note of this, "Whatever W., there are four other handicaps available, I'm sure more than that many people, all with walkers aren't going to show up in the next five minutes. Just be quick because we've got to go."

So W. runs into the store for dinner rolls and the rest of us remain in the car to joyfully sing our hearts out to "Ski Patrol".

Now if you are thinking that what happens next is that every single handicapped citizen on the whole east side of the city all of sudden show up demanding parking spaces, forcing me to move as a sweet old granny, with a disapproving glare, shakes her cane out her car window telling me how rude of a driver I am, sorry to disappoint.

What did happen is this...
As the kids were singing with all their might, I was looking around out the passenger side window, out the front windshield then out the driver side window and back out the passenger side window, again and again, wishing away the silly kid songs for some Death Cab for Cutie or Yeah Yeah Yeahs, observing the evenings shoppers as they made their way to the cars to load their groceries. Next to us I spotted an elderly lady sitting in her car thumbing through a newspaper. I was watching her for a bit when I heard a sort of blunt scraping. It wasn't a long drawn out scraping, but rather quick and short. I turned in the direction of the noise and spotted an older gentleman attempting to push his cart full of grocery bags between the front of our car and the handicap parking sign.

He pushed on past without even a hint of knowledge at what just happened. I noticed he was wearing a US Navy Veteran ballcap. I thought to myself, if his experience in the Navy was similar to that of my husband's, in regards to the daily beat up of one's body as you move around the ship, he has probably experienced some degree of hearing loss and didn't even hear the scraping of the cart against my car.

Then a thought entered my mind, 'the 12th Article of Faith'. I'll be honest, I don't have the Articles of Faith memorized, they aren't something I think about often and they certainly aren't something I think about in regards to parking and the elderly or those who have a handicap or veterans or whatever. However the article in all it's divine glory entered my mind: We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law. That last part... in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law.

*cringe*

Okay Heavenly Father, yup I hear ya. We parked in the wrong parking spot, but why teach me the lesson, I'm not the one who parked here if you will remember correctly. I suggested and even argued for the closer more convenient, LEGAL, non-red zone in front of the store.

When W. got back to the car with 4 bulging grocery bags full of dinner rolls I asked him how he felt about parking illegally.
"Not bad actually."

"Well you should!" I half jokingly, but firmly said. Then I told him what happened to the Jetta-Mobile.

Lessons learned kids. Don't park in handicapped parking, one-because it's illegal to do so and you never know when every person on that side of town who possess a handicap sticker on their car might show up and need to make use of the designated spot, but also because your car is most definitely in danger when parked illegally.

Angry Birds

2011-02-24T20:00:00.013-05:00

Recently I have been anti let anyone play games on my iPod, saying no to watching movies, refusing to download Didj's, etc. etc. I have been told that I am "the meanest mom in the whole wide world that ever lived, but I still love you 2 hundred and 46 and 5 times (this translates into 'a lot') and you are the prettiest." Why thank you Red, I'm glad you think so! The kids are more than welcome to read and listen to audio books to their hearts content and play the games that go along with the books, but absolutely no Angry Birds, no movies, no Didj's.

It's driving me crazy to hear, every 5 minutes, from one child or another, "Mom, can I play Angry Birds? Will you download my Didj? Can I play Angry Birds? Can I watch a movie? Can I play Angry Birds? Will you download my Didj? Can I watch a movie? Will you... Can I... Angry Birds, Angry Birds, movie, Didj, Didj, Didj, Angry Birds.... please, please, PLEASE?!

ENOUGH! NO! Stop Asking! grr grr grr Don't you miss playing with your toys? They sure miss you. How about a good book to read? I know there are plenty of those beginning to collect dust. Wouldn't you like to play a fun game or put a puzzle together? How about coloring, drawing a picture, making hamburgers out of Play Doh? etc. etc.

The reply is always a whine.

Well the Professor and Red came up with their own Angry Birds game, so very much to Miss Ashley's dismay. What does it entail? I'm glad you asked: Jenga, Miss Ash's Littlest Pet Shop pets and a few stuffed animals of random shapes and sizes. They use the Jenga blocks to build the structures and carefully place the pets in random places on the blocks then stand several feet back and launch the stuffed animals. Two brothers have never had such fun destroying block towers and "traumatizing", as Miss Ash claims, their sister's toys.

Who needs video games when you've got imagination?

BCG's

2011-02-23T08:00:00.001-05:00

I was looking for a different picture when I came across this little gem:

ah yes, that's right, now I can see why they are called "birth control glasses"
ahahahahaha

If W. knew I was posting this picture for all the world to gawk at...

You see, this poor Sailor wasn't yet 'authorized' to wear regular glasses, but couldn't drive without any because he is ridiculously blind. He absolutely refused to look at me during the drive home from the Naval Base, but I wasn't about to give up, so when we arrived I plainly told him that he would need to "keep to his side of the bed" that night unless he looked at me... I of course had my camera ready.

Say 'cheese' Popeye!

cheap thrills

2011-02-22T14:30:00.004-05:00

The Professor just got excited and laughed quite the silly evil little laugh at the fact that I punched holes on his history paper upside down and on the wrong side.

Life is so simple and amusing when you are almost 7.

'whadever'

2011-02-22T12:00:00.024-05:00

Red had fallen asleep last night just before Family Home Evening. Later he asked what the lesson was about so I gave him a shortened version of the lesson, which Miss Ashley gave, about the First Vision. We talked about it a bit then I asked him some questions.

me: "What was the name of the Prophet whom Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ both appeared to?"
Red: "A pyramid."
me: "What?"
Red: "Oh whadever."
me: "Whatever?"
Red: "Mom, I've told you this a hundred and sixty-five hundred times before, when I say 'whadever' it means that I don't care."
me: "Joseph Smith is the correct answer."
Red: "That's what I said!"
me: "Of course you did, son."
me: "What was Joseph Smith asking Heavenly Father?"
Red: "To be helped to get out of the forest."

He listens so well.

suffer the consequences

2011-02-19T22:30:00.002-05:00

Conversation in the car on the way to Target from the Scout Store:

W.: "Will, put your coat on or I'm going to..."
the Professor: *whine, whine, ugly scowling face, whine*
Red: "You better do what Dad says or suffer the consequences."

proper grammar & Buffalo Bill

2011-02-10T14:30:00.045-05:00

The Professor has always said, "It doesn't care" rather than 'I don't care' or 'it doesn't matter'. My efforts of correcting him have, thus far, all been in vain and now Red is beginning to say it.

It's not such a big deal really. It's not like the two of them will be saying "It doesn't care" their whole lives. It's sort of like peeing the bed, with a bit of patience and consistency in teaching, eventually a child grows out of it.

So what's the problem?

When I was younger, about 10 or 11 years old, I decided to watch a movie that really I shouldn't have. It was perhaps way too mature for my age and the subject matter was not something that is particularly happy or leaves one with a feeling of anything more than creepiness. The movie: Silence of The Lambs.

I know, right?

There is a line in the movie, spoken by the character "Buffalo Bill" to the girl he is holding hostage in a well in his basement. He tells her, "It rubs the lotion on it's skin. It does this whenever it is told."

Everytime the Professor or Red say, "It doesn't care," images of Buffalo Bill flash into my mind. This is not something I care to remember nor is it something I care to think of everytime one of my kids is trying to convey that they 'don't care' about something.

My mom was never hesitant to correct my grammar. I hated when she did it and never failed to roll my eyes as I sarcastically made the correction in my speech. And wouldn't you know, I have followed ever so faithfully in her footsteps. It doesn't really surprise me one bit that Miss Ash, the Professor and Red, all roll their eyes as they correct their speech. I have noticed that most incorrect uses of grammar spoken by them have vanished, with much persistence on my part, rather quickly. So why not this one, the one that really bothers me?

You know, if Buffalo Bill had just used proper grammar, this wouldn't even be an issue.

achy legs & vegetables

2011-02-08T12:30:00.022-05:00

Red came to me yesterday afternoon complaining that his legs hurt.

Red: "Oh darn it! My legs hurt. I think I need to eat some vegetables."
the Professor: "I'd like to eat vegetables for breakfast, lunch and dinner."
me: "You would?"
the Professor: "Yes!"
me: "Okay!"
Red: "I just want to eat some so my leg stops hurting. It hurts right here, see?"
*pointing to his leg*
"But just a little bit of vegetables. I don't want to eat too much."

We ate salad with our dinner last night. Red complained because he doesn't like the lettuce leaves that are white. I don't either.

He complained again this morning that his legs hurt.

Red: "My legs hurt. Salad didn't help, probably because the white lettuce got in the way. Let's eat mixed vegetables tonight. That will make my legs stop hurting."

All this talk of achy legs is making my legs hurt too. I'm thinking we'll be eating mixed vegetables with dinner tonight... and maybe for breakfast and lunch tomorrow too.

fF: Wonderful One

2011-02-04T14:00:00.006-05:00

This is my sweet sweet Baby Doll on her first birthday, May 27, 2002. I can hardly believe that in just a few short months she will be 9 years old...

I love you Miss Ashley B. You are growing into a beautiful, amazing, intelligent, artistic and imaginative, spirited individual. You have a beautiful Spirit filled with love and compassion and service and I am so blessed every single day to be your mom. You will always be wonderful to me!

fF: Which superhero?

2011-01-28T10:00:00.006-05:00

February 10, 2009

Check out those Spider Man unders! and don't you think the Speed Racer slippers top the whole deal off?

This is the Professor, a month shy of his 5th birthday. He still looks exactly the same and yes, he still wears his unders, or "man briefs" as both he and Red call them, over the top of his superhero pajamas "because," he says, "that's what makes superheroes super."

snow, rain & ice... bleh

2011-01-18T20:00:00.015-05:00

♪♫ The rain rain rain came down down down, in rushing, rising riv'lets... ♪♫♫

(The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh)

It snowed all morning and now it's raining. Can you say ICE? I am SO THANKFUL that W. works less than 10 minutes away now, versus the previous 45+ minute one way commute.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

2011-01-17T20:00:00.020-05:00

In honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., one of my favorite of his quotes:

If you want to be important—wonderful. If you want to be recognized—wonderful. If you want to be great—wonderful. But recognize that he who is greatest among you shall be your servant. That's a new definition of greatness.

And this morning, the thing that I like about it: by giving that definition of greatness, it means that everybody can be great, because everybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don't have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. You don't have to know Einstein's theory of relativity to serve. You don't have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve. You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love. And you can be that servant.

-- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., The Drum Major Instinct
delivered at Ebenezer Baptist Church, Atlanta, Georgia, on 4 February 1968

The following are 15 more favorites:
1. “A man who won’t die for something is not fit to live.”

2. “A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual doom.”

3. “An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.”

4. “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

5. “I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.”

6. “Means we use must be as pure as the ends we seek.”

7. “Never succumb to the temptation of bitterness.”

8. “Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”

9. “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

10. “Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men.”

11. “The moral arc of the universe bends at the elbow of justice.”

12. “The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”

13. “We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools.”

14. “When you are right you cannot be too radical; when you are wrong, you cannot be too conservative.”

15. “We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”

4 pounds and a dress

2011-01-14T16:00:00.004-05:00

Today I am running around in my undies and a short sleeve shirt. I'm roasting. My windows are open and I'm freezing the kids out. Yesterday I was freezing all day. I had turned up the heat a few degrees and everyone else was sweating.

Being pregnant is so much fun for everyone around here.

In other pregnant news, that is completely useless to anyone other than me: I weighed myself the day before yesterday, then again last night. There was no real reason behind my doing this, mostly it was just because the scale was right there in the middle of the floor staring up at me. My findings: in 24 hours I had gained 4 lbs...

FOUR stinking POUNDS!

Holy. Cow. That's a bit of a shock, pregnant or not. Perhaps I ought to eat something other than Hershey Kisses for breakfast?

Honestly I think my scale is broke. It's really not that reliable, nothing is if it has to be stomped on and cussed at few times just to zero it out before using it. I don't even like having a scale in the house for so many different reasons and we have never had one before. We acquired this obvious little Liar when we moved here from San Diego over a year and half ago, and good ol' W., against all my protesting, got a bug up his butt to bring it along when we moved last September.

One more thing, I bought a dress. A beautiful little dress for a beautiful little girl. I'm not having a girl, well I mean I could be, but I don't know and I won't know until she or he is born. While shopping online at Gap yesterday for a few maternity shirts, in which I may or may not have been browsing through all the irresistible baby clothes as well, filling my cart with the cutest of the cute ones, I saw this darling little dress on sale and bought it.

and I love it. The end.

stop motion

2011-01-11T16:49:00.003-05:00

I love Love LOVE this video! I do, and I love the song. I first saw it posted on a friend's blog almost two years ago and recently I have found myself singing the song over and over. It's mellow and thought provoking and it's sweet to listen to.

Stop motion animation has interested me ever since I was a little kid sitting on the living room floor in my pajamas, watching Gumby while eating grapes, early on a Saturday morning. I thoroughly enjoy watching short films as well as feature length movies done in stop motion. Fantastic Mr. Fox is a favorite, for the animation as well as the storyline, and I have always enjoyed watching Wallace and Gromit.

Singer-songwriter Oren Lavie's music video for the song Her Morning Elegance, above, was posted on YouTube on January 19, 2009. To date it has close to 17 million views. The video, directed by Lavie and Yuval and Merav Nathan, earned a 2010 Grammy Award nomination for "Best Short Form Music Video".

PES film, also featured on YouTube, has several stop motion shorts. The following video, titled Western Spaghetti, is very creative, I think.

flashback Friday

2011-01-07T13:02:00.004-05:00

I stole this idea from a random blog I came across a few weeks ago while blurking. "Flashback Friday!" It sounded kind of fun so here goes, the first official Hey I heard that... Flashback Friday!

In the truest sense of a flashback I bring you traditional 'picture in the Peanut Butter' (for serious lack of a better title)... or in this particular case, 'name on the sandwich':

Doesn't she have such lovely handwriting, even written with mustard?!

I think the Professor needs a bit more Mayo, but that's just me.

Growing up, when my mom would make pb&j sandwhiches for me (a favorite then and now), she always drew a picture in my peanut butter. Sometimes it was as simple as a heart, other times it was more complex and detailed like a bicycle or a hot air balloon. I've always loved that she did that and yes it's true, I'll admit it, even now as an adult when I make a pb&j for myself, I still draw a picture in the peanut butter.

This is a fun tradition that I have passed along to my own kids and they absolutely love it! The pictures have gotten pretty creative over the years as requests have been made. The Professor and Red both like superheros, which is often their requests. It was a turning point when I graduated from cape wearing stick figures to vigilantes with actual arms and legs. I must say my best was probably a light saber wielding Yoda fighting Darth Vador (I so wish I had a picture of that, darn it!) The Professor's peanut butter had the drawing of Yoda while Red's had Darth. Thankfully Miss Ash keeps it simple in her requests; hearts, balloons, flowers, a unicorn... oh wait, that wasn't simple.

The above two "picture in the peanut butter" examples are of Miss Ash and the Professor's own doing. We were eating ham sandwiches for lunch on this particularly fine day back on April 5th of last year.

Who doesn't love a yummy sandwich with your name written with mustard or a super rad picture drawn in the peanut butter? Try it yourself. For more detailed pictures I recommend a toothpick as the tool of choice, otherwise the tip of the butter knife used to spread the peanut butter will work just fine. I just bet that sandwich of yours will be so much tastier... and your kids will love it too!

drawn from water

2011-01-05T17:00:00.033-05:00

Drawn From Water is in the news!
ABC News 10 Sacramento: video and article

If you don't already know about this amazing organization and the work they they do to rescue and save the lives of innocent children as well as their mission to educate those who ignorantly and fearfully, due to thousands of years old tradition, have sentenced them to death, I encourage you to follow the link to Drawn From Water and learn more.

Some previous blog posts, by Drawn From Water, that I like:
A Plan, A Prayer and A Look At The Past Year (dated December 31, 2010)
The Africa Myth (dated July 1, 2010)
Flightless Birds and the Power of Hope (dated January 12, 2010)

"Look Not Behind Thee"

2010-12-30T22:00:00.000-05:00

The Best is Yet To Be
Look ahead and remember that faith is always pointed toward the future.

The start of a new year is the traditional time to take stock of our lives and see where we are going, measured against the backdrop of where we have been. I don’t want to talk about New Year’s resolutions, but I do want to talk about the past and the future, with an eye toward any time of transition and change in our lives—and those moments come virtually every day.

As a scriptural theme for this discussion, I have chosen Luke 17:32, where the Savior cautions, “Remember Lot’s wife.” What did He mean by such an enigmatic little phrase? To find out, we need to do as He suggested. Let’s recall who Lot’s wife was.

The story, of course, comes to us out of the days of Sodom and Gomorrah, when the Lord, having had as much as He could stand of the worst that men and women could do, told Lot and his family to flee because those cities were about to be destroyed. “Escape for thy life,” the Lord said. “Look not behind thee … ; escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed” (Genesis 19:17; emphasis added).

With less than immediate obedience and more than a little negotiation, Lot and his family ultimately did leave town but just in the nick of time. The scriptures tell us what happened at daybreak the morning following their escape:

“The Lord rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven;

“And he overthrew those cities” (Genesis 19:24–25).

My theme comes in the next verse. Surely, with the Lord’s counsel—“look not behind thee”—ringing clearly in her ears, Lot’s wife, the record says, “looked back,” and she was turned into a pillar of salt (see verse 26).

Just what did Lot’s wife do that was so wrong? As a student of history, I have thought about that and offer a partial answer. Apparently, what was wrong with Lot’s wife was that she wasn’t just looking back; in her heart she wanted to go back. It would appear that even before she was past the city limits, she was already missing what Sodom and Gomorrah had offered her. As Elder Neal A. Maxwell (1926–2004) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles once said, such people know they should have their primary residence in Zion, but they still hope to keep a summer cottage in Babylon.1

It is possible that Lot’s wife looked back with resentment toward the Lord for what He was asking her to leave behind. We certainly know that Laman and Lemuel were resentful when Lehi and his family were commanded to leave Jerusalem. So it isn’t just that she looked back; she looked back longingly. In short, her attachment to the past outweighed her confidence in the future. That, apparently, was at least part of her sin.
Faith Points to the Future

As a new year begins and we try to benefit from a proper view of what has gone before, I plead with you not to dwell on days now gone nor to yearn vainly for yesterdays, however good those yesterdays may have been. The past is to be learned from but not lived in. We look back to claim the embers from glowing experiences but not the ashes. And when we have learned what we need to learn and have brought with us the best that we have experienced, then we look ahead and remember that faith is always pointed toward the future. Faith always has to do with blessings and truths and events that will yet be efficacious in our lives.

So a more theological way to talk about Lot’s wife is to say that she did not have faith. She doubted the Lord’s ability to give her something better than she already had. Apparently, she thought that nothing that lay ahead could possibly be as good as what she was leaving behind.

To yearn to go back to a world that cannot be lived in now, to be perennially dissatisfied with present circumstances and have only dismal views of the future, and to miss the here and now and tomorrow because we are so trapped in the there and then and yesterday are some of the sins of Lot’s wife.

After the Apostle Paul reviewed the privileged and rewarding life of his early years—his birthright, education, and standing in the Jewish community—he says to the Philippians that all of that was “dung” compared to his conversion to Christianity. He says, and I paraphrase, “I have stopped rhapsodizing about ‘the good old days’ and now eagerly look toward the future ‘that I may apprehend that for which Christ apprehended me’” (see Philippians 3:7–12). Then come these verses:

“This one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before,

“I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13–14).

No Lot’s wife here. No looking back at Sodom and Gomorrah here. Paul knows it is out there in the future, up ahead wherever heaven is taking us, that we will win “the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”
Forgive and Forget

There is something in many of us that particularly fails to forgive and forget earlier mistakes in life—either our mistakes or the mistakes of others. It is not good. It is not Christian. It stands in terrible opposition to the grandeur and majesty of the Atonement of Christ. To be tied to earlier mistakes is the worst kind of wallowing in the past from which we are called to cease and desist.

I was told once of a young man who for many years was more or less the brunt of every joke in his school. He had some disadvantages, and it was easy for his peers to tease him. Later in his life he moved away. He eventually joined the army and had some successful experiences there in getting an education and generally stepping away from his past. Above all, as many in the military do, he discovered the beauty and majesty of the Church and became active and happy in it.

Then, after several years, he returned to the town of his youth. Most of his generation had moved on but not all. Apparently, when he returned quite successful and quite reborn, the same old mind-set that had existed before was still there, waiting for his return. To the people in his hometown, he was still just old “so-and-so”—you remember the guy who had the problem, the idiosyncrasy, the quirky nature, and did such and such. And wasn’t it all just hilarious?

Little by little this man’s Pauline effort to leave that which was behind and grasp the prize that God had laid before him was gradually diminished until he died about the way he had lived in his youth. He came full circle: again inactive and unhappy and the brunt of a new generation of jokes. Yet he had had that one bright, beautiful midlife moment when he had been able to rise above his past and truly see who he was and what he could become. Too bad, too sad that he was again to be surrounded by a whole batch of Lot’s wives, those who thought his past was more interesting than his future. They managed to rip out of his grasp that for which Christ had grasped him. And he died sad, though through little fault of his own.

That also happens in marriages and other relationships. I can’t tell you the number of couples I have counseled who, when they are deeply hurt or even just deeply stressed, reach farther and farther into the past to find yet a bigger brick to throw through the window “pain” of their marriage. When something is over and done with, when it has been repented of as fully as it can be repented of, when life has moved on as it should and a lot of other wonderfully good things have happened since then, it is not right to go back and open some ancient wound that the Son of God Himself died to heal.

Let people repent. Let people grow. Believe that people can change and improve. Is that faith? Yes! Is that hope? Yes! Is that charity? Yes! Above all, it is charity, the pure love of Christ. If something is buried in the past, leave it buried. Don’t keep going back with your little sand pail and beach shovel to dig it up, wave it around, and then throw it at someone, saying, “Hey! Do you remember this?” Splat!

Well, guess what? That is probably going to result in some ugly morsel being dug up out of your landfill with the reply, “Yeah, I remember it. Do you remember this?” Splat.

And soon enough everyone comes out of that exchange dirty and muddy and unhappy and hurt, when what our Father in Heaven pleads for is cleanliness and kindness and happiness and healing.

Such dwelling on past lives, including past mistakes, is just not right! It is not the gospel of Jesus Christ. In some ways it is worse than Lot’s wife because at least she destroyed only herself. In cases of marriage and family, wards and branches, apartments and neighborhoods, we can end up destroying so many others.

Perhaps at this beginning of a new year there is no greater requirement for us than to do as the Lord Himself said He does: “He who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more” (D&C 58:42).

The proviso, of course, is that repentance has to be sincere, but when it is and when honest effort is being made to progress, we are guilty of the greater sin if we keep remembering and recalling and rebashing someone with his or her earlier mistakes—and that someone might be ourselves. We can be so hard on ourselves—often much more so than on others!

Now, like the Anti-Nephi-Lehies of the Book of Mormon, bury your weapons of war and leave them buried (see Alma 24). Forgive and do that which is sometimes harder than to forgive: forget. And when it comes to mind again, forget it again.
The Best Is Yet to Be

You can remember just enough to avoid repeating the mistake, but then put the rest of it all on the dung heap Paul spoke of to the Philippians. Dismiss the destructive, and keep dismissing it until the beauty of the Atonement of Christ has revealed to you your bright future and the bright future of your family, your friends, and your neighbors. God doesn’t care nearly as much about where you have been as He does about where you are and, with His help, where you are willing to go. That is the thing Lot’s wife didn’t get—and neither did Laman and Lemuel and a host of others in the scriptures.

This is an important matter to consider at the start of a new year—and every day ought to be the start of a new year and a new life. Such is the wonder of faith, repentance, and the miracle of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The poet Robert Browning wrote:
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in his hand
Who saith, “A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!”2

Some of you may wonder: Is there any future for me? What does a new year or a new semester, a new major or a new romance, a new job or a new home hold for me? Will I be safe? Will life be sound? Can I trust in the Lord and in the future? Or would it be better to look back, to go back, to stay in the past?

To all such of every generation, I call out, “Remember Lot’s wife.” Faith is for the future. Faith builds on the past but never longs to stay there. Faith trusts that God has great things in store for each of us and that Christ truly is the “high priest of good things to come” (Hebrews 9:11).

Keep your eyes on your dreams, however distant and far away. Live to see the miracles of repentance and forgiveness, of trust and divine love that will transform your life today, tomorrow, and forever. That is a New Year’s resolution I ask you to keep.

by Elder Jeffery R. Holland, Ensign January 2010

wiggly jiggly butt

2010-12-30T21:00:00.003-05:00

I put Red in the shower with me tonight because he was an extra filthy, extra stinky little boy and needed, I felt, a little bit of help getting all of the dirt out of his hair and ears and from behind his "knee pits" as he calls them. Generally he showers on his own, scrubbing twice, he says "to be sure to get all the bugs."

Near the end of our shower I detached the shower head to give each of us a good final rinse. It was at this point that Red said to me, "Mom, every time you move, your butt wiggles. "Then he made a "jigga jigga jigga" sound. He kept a serious face as he told me this. "Gee son, thanks for noticing." I told him and he replied, "Yep, no problem Mom, just thought you'd like to know."

So it seems my butt wiggles when I move, and now I know. This knowledge only enforces my desire to run again when this baby is born. In the mean time however, I'm going to go eat another handful of Hershey Kisses.

adult diapers needed

2010-12-16T18:25:00.003-05:00

After having three kids and being pregnant with number four, it seems that I, at times, have no bladder control. The first time I peed my pants and can honestly blame pregnancy was when I was pregnant with Miss Ash. I was cooking dinner and without warning peed my pants right there while standing at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot. W. was sure to tease me endlessly as did our roommate who, along with W., witnessed my little accident. There were a few times during my pregnancies with both the Professor and with Red in which I peed my pants as well.

Being pregnant is a good excuse, but what of the times post pregnancy? Yup, I've peed my pants then too. Generally it happens when I sneeze, in fact with the exception of the first time, all of my accidents have been due to sneezing.

I have learned that when I am about to sneeze I need to tighten both my bladder and pelvic floor muscles. If I'm standing I have found that it helps to cross my legs and bend over slightly, so as to "hold it" and if I'm walking I have to stop first then get into position. It really is quite ridiculous and I look like a complete idiot, but it's all in the name of not drenching my drawers.

Last Sunday after church and choir practice, I stopped in the kitchen to get a drink of water before heading home. I had to go to the bathroom, but it didn't feel urgent so I decided to wait and get a drink first. Just as I was about to put the cup of water to my lips there was a moment in which I thought that I had better go to the bathroom first. I dismissed it immediately to gulp the water, but as soon as it entered my mouth, another very warm liquid drained from the opposite end and I was completely powerless to stop the stream.

I was standing in a particular part of the kitchen which allowed for me to see out as well as be seen from the hallway of both doors, which are on opposite walls. Most everyone had already gone home but still I felt weird about grabbing myself like a three year old attempting to "hold it", just in case someone should happen to walk by. That weirdness lasted only a moment before I found myself struggling with my jean skirt to do just that and prevent any further peeing. My efforts were completely fruitless and I abandoned the idea to instead assume "the position" when I saw the Professor walk by.

By this time I had already peed my pants, but I still had to go more, of course. To make matters worse, I knew that if I moved, even an inch, I'd further pee my pants. So there I stood, legs crossed, bent over slightly when W. walked by and noticed me. I told him what had happened and he began laughing hysterically. He offered little to no assistance except to say that he was headed out to get the kids in the car and he would meet me out there. And with that my husband and three kids left me all alone, standing in the kitchen at church with wet pissed pants.

I looked around wondering what I should do, wishing I had not taken the drink, but headed straight for the bathroom first. I decided to count to ten then make a run for the bathroom. I ended up counting to 20 instead then made my escape.

Thankfully I had enough sense to wear a pantyliner that morning; it absorbed most of the pee, but it's no diaper so my underwear were still pretty wet. In the bathroom I peed again, this time in the toilet, but enough to make one think that I hadn't peed all day, let alone just minutes before in my pants. I cleaned myself up as best I could then made my way out to the car.

It was bitter cold outside and I swear my underwear instantly froze to my butt. As I was getting into the car W. asked if I was going commando. I ignored it and he laughed again and this time the kids, whom he, previous to me getting in the car, had told, "Mommy peed her pants!" laughed right along with with him. I felt like such an idiot and wondered for a moment if I should start wearing adult diapers.

The other night, while at Target, W. was off in another section of the store with Miss Ash, the Professor and Red while I shopped for Christmas presents; I felt a sneeze coming and assumed the position. I got a few odd looks but thought them better than the looks I would have received if I had peed my pants right there.

Anyone up to jumping on a trampoline with me?

sure

2010-12-14T18:30:00.007-05:00

I vehemently dislike when I am asked a question then after giving the answer am asked, "Are you sure?"

Why yes I'm sure! Why on earth would I tell you something with a surety if I wasn't sure? And why would you suspect that I'm not sure, thus questioning my surety? Are you even sure you want to know if I am, in fact, sure? Are you sure you aren't just fishing for a different answer because perhaps you, yourself aren't sure? And how sure are you that I'm not so sure?

If the question had something to do with a subject that you were absolutely sure I had zero knowledge in, then making sure that I'm sure would be just fine. However, I must wonder why would you be asking me a question about something you know I know nothing about to begin with. One can conclude you would not reasonably ask me a question about something you know I know nothing about, but rather only asking me questions that you know I know something about, thus making me sure about my answer and you having little to no need to ask me if I am sure of my answer.

This I am sure of.

This guy doesn't look very sure.

bathroom essentials

2010-12-07T17:00:00.003-05:00

Do you have a pencil sharpener in your bathroom? I do... but no toilet paper.

See?! There's the pencil sharpener-- a bathroom essential.

Let's play a game of Where's Waldo. Can you find the empty toilet paper spring?

For several minutes I called for Miss Ash to bring me a roll from the other bathroom. While waiting ever so patiently, in walks Red... to sharpen his pencil. No toilet paper though. I asked him if he could go down stairs and grab a roll for me. He flashed me a charming little smile after sharpening his pencil then disappeared. He never returned and there I sat.

"Ash?! Can you please bring me some toilet paper?!"....

"Will? Foxx? Somebody? I need toilet paper. HELP!!".....

It all fell on deaf ears obviously because there I sat waiting. I began looking around for something, anything, to use and I even contemplated jumping in and taking a quick shower when the Professor came in. (No, I have absolutely no privacy. Does any mother of young children?) He had a question about math and then, ignoring my plea for toilet paper, was gone again. "Sorry mom, gotta get my work done." is all he said.

Does anyone care that my legs are starting to go numb?!

About 10 minutes passed, or what seemed to me like an eternity, all the while me yelling at the top of my lungs for someone to bring me toilet paper so that I could move on with my life when Miss Ashley walked in, "Hey mom, here's some toilet paper, Foxx said you needed some."

She was totally oblivious.

Moral of the story:
Check to be sure that the toilet paper is fully stalked before sitting down to take care of your business.

Sept.- Nov. brought to you in pictures

2010-12-03T08:00:00.009-05:00

September:
Soccer season! So much fun while it lasted, so glad when it was over. This year W. coached Red's team and assistant coached Miss Ashley's and the Professor's teams. It was a very busy season. This was Red's first year playing. He loved it and played quite well! Guess all those soccer lessons in the back yard paid off.

Coach Jonny with Red's team. Check out those sexy yellow socks! hahaha

Red taking a breather. He sure can run!

October:

This year we picked our own pumpkins from a farm close to W.'s work. The kids had lots of fun and it was interesting to see what choices they each made.

My little pumpkin head.

Miss Ash was looking for the biggest pumpkin.

W. and the Professor searching, searching for the perfect pumpkin.

Found it!

Later the kids drew pictures of what they wanted on their pumpkins and we carved them. Unfortunately I forgot to take pictures of the end result, lame I know, but take it from me, they were super cute!

Look at that face! hahaha Miss Ash was completely disgusted.

November:

This is the only picture I've taken in weeks. Miss Ash and the Professor were busy doing their school work the other day when Red, dressed like this, walked ever so quietly into the room. We all cracked up laughing!

bedside cleanliness

2010-12-02T16:04:00.003-05:00

A few days ago W. and I finally got around to cleaning our bedroom, which has been nothing short of a complete disaster for the past... well lets just say it's been messy for awhile. W. did most of the work, whistling and singing the whole time. He even moved the bed and vacuumed underneath it. All the laundry was washed, folded and put away, the dresser and nightstand were dusted and it's contents straightened, all the loose papers that had been piled up on the floor were filed, the toys, shoes and blankets all put away and we unpacked the boxes, which were mostly full of maternity clothes. In the end our room sparkled. Okay so it didn't actually sparkle, but pretty darn close.

Last night, Miss Ash and I were in my room sitting on the bed, I was teaching her how to crochet, when Red came in wondering what we were doing. He walked around to the far side of my room to climb on the bed and there he noticed it, looking all around with wide eyed amazement he said in the most serious voice, "What the? Mom! The side of your bed is all clean!"

"What are you talking about, son?" I questioned, not at all understanding what there was to be astonished about.

"The floor, there is nothing on it. No clothes, no socks, no papers, no books... It's all missing and everything is clean! It's not suppose to look like this!"

It's a sad day when your 4 year old thinks your room is "suppose" to be messy. Perhaps I ought to call Merry Maids.

bun in the oven

2010-11-30T13:25:00.003-05:00

We finally have Wi/Fi again. It's only been 12 weeks. Supreme laziness, I know. W. doesn't use the internet, except on very rare occasions, although he does get a little fussy when he misses Chuck on Monday nights (I kind of do too), either way he could have cared less. I, however, use the internet all. the. time. I bank online, pay the bills, shop, email of course, chat with my sisters and mom via instant messenger, shop (did I mention that already?), etc., etc. On the one hand I have been going crazy, especially with regard to paying the bills, but on the other I too could have cared less. All those weeks I have mostly been watching movies, sleeping, and hugging the toilet after every meal. FYI: coleslaw is by far the very worst thing in the whole wide world to throw up. I imagine it is something close to a very slow and extremely painful death by bear attack. I will probably never ever eat it again as a result.

For those not in the know, we are expecting. That's right, I'm pregnant! Excuse me while I pause for a moment to wonder why?! for the hundredth time. Don't get me wrong, I love babies and I could not even imagine life without Miss Ash, the Professor and Red, however my body treats pregnancy with terrible hostility and punishes me relentlessly for allowing such a thing to happen to it. W. and I were watching Chuck the other night and a side plot of the story line is that Chuck's sister is pregnant. Of course she is glowing and beautiful, working and shopping and cooking all through her first trimester and never sick. Whatever. I'm one of those unlucky moms to be that does not just have "morning" sickness (whatever that means) throughout the first trimester, but rather has morning, noon and all night sickness (which it is more appropriately called) coupled with extreme exhaustion and I constantly battle with dehydration all for the duration of the nine months. Relief comes at birth.

For about the past 2-3 weeks, I must say, I have been blessed with a few hours relief during the afternoon hours. I'm still completely exhausted during that time, but my stomach is not trying to turn itself inside out and explode. Hey, I'll take it.

Baby #4 is due next May. The kids are excited, W. is excited and I will be when the baby is born and I am no longer miserably sick.

Jesus, the dryer and a miracle

2010-10-18T16:45:00.003-04:00

A miracle happened here today.

Miss Ash, with the assistance of Red, transferred the soccer uniforms from the washer to the dryer. The kids came up the stairs and then, just moments later, headed back down with a blanket, which they mistakenly thought was dry and had pulled out of the dryer to make room for the uniforms.

Two minutes later the Professor appeared at the top of the stairs with an armful of clothes, uniforms to be exact, in total disbelieving amazement, "They're dry! Completely dry! Not a single drop of water anywhere on any part of ANY THING!" Red followed behind, shouting, "It's a MIRACLE! an absolute miracle I say! Can you believe it mom?! Jesus was here, in our very own basement and dried our uniforms. Yup," *shaking his head yes* "he's pretty much awesome."

2010-09-01T13:30:00.008-04:00

Remember kids:

this

can move this,

but it is not this

and it cannot easily back out of this.

Especially when the opposite side of the narrow street is lined bumper to bumper with parked cars. But do not be discouraged should you find yourself in such a jam, those friends whom you just drove past and waved obnoxiously to will surely witness you pulling into the driveway then attempting to back out in an effort to turn around, then pulling into it again and backing out, then again and again until finally your wife, who has informed you that the driver of the car behind you is waiting to pull into the same driveway because that is where they live, and has now reclined their seat back a bit and has rested their head on their hands as they wait for you. Your wife, who is laughing hysterically at you, not even bothered by your growing nervousness and fear of possibly not being able to get out of the driveway, will eventually get out of the van and guide you until you are successfully backed out of the driveway and turned around. As she walks back to the van she will apologize to the driver of the car behind you, informing them that you usually drive a Jetta then she will get back in the van, still laughing at you. As you drive the van back down the road again, you will drive past your friends who are also laughing hysterically at you and you will feel like an idiot.

hidden treasures

2010-08-25T15:00:00.005-04:00

This:

was found under my couches today.

wow and grody.

You should know that I do clean under my couches on a regular basis and I have seen lots worse, but it still always amazes me.

play dates and PG-13 movies

2010-08-23T17:18:00.009-04:00

Miss Ash recently had a few play dates with a friend, the first of which the friend came over to our house; they laughed, played games and had lots of fun, and the second she went to her house where she watched The Proposal.

Yes, you read that correctly, The Proposal. The one with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds. I have a problem with this for several reasons, among them: Miss Ash is 8 years old and the movie, according to IMDB, is rated PG-13. For what you ask?

Sexual content.
Nudity.
Language.

But what exactly does that mean? The Proposal al la Kids in Mind.

Not only did I wish for my eight year old daughter not to see this movie, I would not choose to see it myself. Call me a prude if you dare, however in our household we do not watch movies, regardless of the rating, that has nudity of any kind or sexual content.

Let's back up a moment, says the Devil's advocate, perhaps the parent of your child's friend did not know that watching that particular movie would be inappropriate for your child? After all, she obviously doesn't mind her own child watching it.

First and foremost, the rules of another's household are none of my business, nor are they my concern, unless, of course, my child will be spending time there, however I would have to wonder about a parent who lets their 8 year old child watch movies with such ratings. Second, the types of movies that were acceptable to view and which ones were not, were made clear, very crystal clear, and agreed upon just one day before.

I talked to Miss Ash about the incident, about what she saw and about how to handle such a situation in the future. She told me that she had voiced her discomfort with watching the movie from the beginning and chose to get up and walked away and out of the room several times during the movie. She said too that she had asked her friend if they could do something different on several occasions during the movie as well.

Good for her.

Unfortunately there will be no more play dates at this friend's house, she is welcome to come here to play, but Miss Ash will not be going there. And perhaps, in the future, I will be sending her to play dates with a cell phone so that she can call me to immediately come pick her up should a situation like this, or any other that she feels uncomfortable in, arise again.

Now, what to say to the parent?

wherein your landlord is foreclosed on

2010-08-19T13:15:00.006-04:00

I tried to flush the toilet this morning and nothing happened. Too tired to bother with it, I ignored the problem and went back to bed. Later Miss Ash turned on the faucet in the kitchen, but nothing came out. "Um mom? There's no water." Oh, so that's what the hammering was outside my window this morning. I thought the bank had stopped by to put a 'For Sale' sign up, but instead the water was being shut off. Lovely.

Let me back up a bit. At the end of May our landlord informed us that the property we were renting from him had been foreclosed on. At first this was stressful, not knowing anything about foreclosures, I didn't know what that meant for us. I began immediately looking for houses. W. and I were going back and forth about whether we wanted to continue renting or if we wanted to buy. We opted to buy because now was a good a time as any. In the end, to make a long story short, it didn't feel right with either of us, among other reasons, and after a few weeks of looking we opted to instead continue renting. I switched from looking at houses to buy to looking at single family unit homes, apartments, duplexes, condexes, town homes and multi family unit homes to rent.

I have since learned the ins and outs of foreclosure and after two unsuccessful auctions the property was sold back to the bank, which works best for us, and we were given three options: we could ourselves buy the property-- no thanks!, the bank will pay us a substantial amount of money to move-- yes please!, or we can stay until the end of our current lease then sign a new one with the bank-- um, no thank you, if we can avoid it.

During our apartment shopping adventure, I found the loveliest multi family unit home, two family to be exact, the owners had completely gutted out and rebuilt the interior and it was beautiful and perfect! This house, complete with a yard, front porch, a full "not scary basement" and garage, abutted a nice park and sat on a quiet residential street that countless families called home. Did I mention that it was perfect? It was. We filled out the application and waited for the good news.

I put all my hope into that house. It was everything we were looking for, everything I wanted, including a beautiful stained glass window in the winding stair well (I love stained glass windows), everything W. wanted and for the right amount too.

Let me rephrase my previous statement, I stupidly put all my hope into that house-- the owner's opted to go with another applicant and needless to say I was sad and irritated... and I cried.

Yes I cried. By this time I had been looking for weeks, several hours a day on Craigslist, rent.com, at apartment listings in the newspaper, etc. It was beginning to wear on me and stress me out and I was tired of looking at the same apartments and being told the same things about each one.

You should know something about New England living: gas heat, while it is not uncommon, it is also not common, not in all these old homes, and oil heat is obnoxiously expensive.

Every day I sit on the couch, laptop on my lap and for several hours I look for a place to live. I make calls and leave messages, send emails and ask questions. Several times a week we go look at apartments, townhouses, single family homes, etc. and the ones we really like, the ones that suit our needs best, we fill applications out for and then we wait. Sometimes we are lucky and thankful to have someone watch the kids for us, but most of the time they come with us and I must say, Miss Ashley, the Professor and Red have been so well behaved at each one of the showings, keeping their arms folded, being quiet, not touching anything and leaving alone the piles of pennies spotted on the floor even though they glisten in the sun and seemingly call out to little hands. They are always generously awarded and I am so thankful for such well behaved kids.

Currently we are waiting, with fingers and toes crossed, that we will be approved for a cute newly remodeled little 3 bedroom home situated on a quiet street. It has carpet, and brand new mind you! This is a rare find out here, carpet that is. I never thought I'd miss vacuuming, but I do! and I miss my Dyson which, for all these months has been sitting in the closet all alone and forlorn looking. I pray everyday that we will be approved and by our September 1st deadline-- that's when we have to be moved out, our current apartment broom swept and the keys handed over to the bank to get paid. I'm pretty sure that someone else is praying each day to be approved for this very same apartment as well, but between you and me, I hope that they have forgotten to do so and that their need is not as great as ours.

Back to the water. Previously our landlord had paid for the water, per our lease agreement. When we received notification that he had been foreclosed on I made a call to the water company and was told that there was no balance. Several weeks later we received a notice that the water would be turned off if the new balance was not paid by a specific date. When I called to pay the balance I was told that it had just been paid moments before. We never had the water switched over to our name, for whatever reason, and without notice it was shut it off this morning.

The balance has now been paid, the water switched over to our name and moments ago the water company stopped by and turned it back on.

Flush the toilet kids, we have water again!

four

2010-08-17T19:22:00.004-04:00

My littlest Love turned 4 on the 3rd. When he woke up, he passed by the living room, which quite noticeably housed a HUGE surprise for him, and instead came and crawled into bed with me, snuggled right into my neck and put his arm around me then whispered the sweetest words in my ear, "I love you mom, you're so pretty." He tells me this all the time!

So what's the surprise? A "super rad" wood train table! W. and I stayed up late, the night before, putting it together. It felt like Christmas. After the table was assembled, W. went to bed and I stayed up to build an awesome track set up... then I played with it for a few minutes... I was only slightly jealous that I didn't get it for my birthday.

Spaghetti and homemade carrot cake with butter cream frosting was on the menu, it's what we eat for dinner every August 3rd. This year W. made the spaghetti sauce. He tried to be brave and tough and and show off by taking a big bite of raw onion, while chopping it. I didn't give him the response he was looking for, to his dismay, but I couldn't help but laugh when he made a terrible sour face afterward.

The cake, which I forgot to take a picture of (darn it!), was "super awesome". Red made a special request this year to have his cake decorated with baby carrots, raisins and a rainbow. "A carrot cake should have carrots on top and a rainbow and raisins because that's what makes it a carrot cake." Well who am I to argue? W. couldn't find single color sprinkles at the store so he bought a multi color tub and hand sorted enough for a small rainbow. What a dad!

Red was very straight forward about his birthday list this year: a train table, Cranky the Crane, "a scary hot wheels car", a play doh hamburger maker and Hulk gloves "and that's it!" Easy enough.

Look at his face! He was so excited about Cranky the Crane!

I can hardly believe that 4 years has already gone by. Red's opinionated, outspoken and straight forward personality was pretty apparent from day one and he hasn't changed a bit! I love it! He makes me laugh all the time, is super smart, too smart for his own good really, and is quite possibly the very sweetest little boy ever!

Happy happy birthday Foxxopotamus! "I love you 257 million!"

all I want for Christmas...

2010-08-16T14:51:00.012-04:00

The Professor pulled out two, count 'em 1... 2! teeth last night. He was amazed with himself and was sure to, very nicely mind you, rub it in Miss Ash's face that he did so without even a teeny tiny whine. (pulling Miss Ash's teeth or getting her to pull her own is like, well... pulling teeth)

A few weeks ago I noticed that the Professor's two front bottom adult teeth had come in. The problem, his baby teeth were still holding on for dear life. I was amazed at how straight his teeth are even when two shark teeth have moved in behind from where they should to be.

Last night, after brushing his teeth, just before bed, something both the Professor and Red LOVE to do, the Professor came and showed me his efforts. -enter Mother Hen's inspection- I wiggled both teeth and told him that he had five minutes to pull them or I would do it. Yes I am just that mean! He looked at me with wide eyed fear (I'm almost certain he was remembering the, thought to be, torture I had previously put his sister through) then sat far away from me on the other side of the couch next to W. and, using his t-shirt as a gripper, systematically pulled both teeth out, one after the other, with out so much as a wince.

Way to go Professor!

Coxsackie-Athens 2010 Valedictorian Speech

2010-07-24T14:28:00.006-04:00

Erica Goldson, 2010 Valedictorian at Coxsackie-Athens High School in New York, gave the following graduation speech: Coxsackie-Athens Valedictorian Speech 2010

For all the reasons listed in that speech, and so many more, are why I homeschool with my three children. I don't want them to grow up and look back on those 18 years and feel stings of disappointment and wasted time or think, "Why did I need to learn that?" My goal for them, and I hope it is their goal as well, is that they learn, passionately learn, and understand rather than cram and memorize pointlessly, just to forget.

all the rad kids have faux hawks

2010-07-12T17:12:00.026-04:00

Nearly four years of really stinking cute red curls has now become a super cute faux hawk.

"Mom, *big sigh* I am ready to get my hair cut now." This is what Red said to me on Saturday morning. "JONATHAN GET DRESSED! FOXX WANTS HIS HAIR CUT! This is what I yelled across the house immediately thereafter.

There has been a lot of back and forth on Red's part about this. He has always resisted getting his hair cut, stating that he doesn't like "those cut things" *making scissors with his fingers* I told him that when he was ready he could have any kind of haircut he wanted, to which he immediately replied, "I want a mohawk."

The day finally arrived and he opted instead for a faux hawk. "Miss Vicky the hair-cutter lady" as Red calls her, was a little hesitant to cut his hair. She loved all his curls and didn't know if she could do it. She graciously cut a lock for us to save then took a deep breath and began cutting away. Red sat so still. He was a bit shy and was very quiet and I wondered if he was upset at seeing his hair fall to the floor, but when I asked if he was okay he half smiled, revealing a glimpse of his dimples, winked at me and shook his head yes.

I was a little sad to see the mass of red curls laying on the floor at my feet, I put on a brave face, but cried inside. Miss Ash and the Professor, along with Red, have each had curly hair, however the first hair cut has always been the end of those sweet baby curls forever. Miss Ash still has a few under all her thick dark hair and hints of wave throughout, but mostly hers is all straight and the Professor has stick straight, thick blonde hair that grows in one direction-- forward. I hope Red doesn't lose his curls.

"All the super rad kids have faux hawks, huh dad! yup *shakes head yes* uh huh, they do!"-- Red to W. while riding on his shoulders to the car after getting his hair cut.

(before)

This picture doesn't have anything to do with anything, it just makes me laugh!

2010-07-09T14:40:00.001-04:00

I'm having one of those days. I don't even know why really, there is nothing wrong. I suppose I woke up on the wrong side of the bed? I dreamt something stupid and unrealistic, which, in my dream state, shattered my faith, made me laugh and question everything, EVERYTHING, all at the same time. I was heartbroken and confused. But when I woke, it wasn't the dream that my grouchy, short tempered quietness was rooted in; I'm not sure even now what it was... or is.

To start W. got the brunt of it all. Everything he did, or didn't, do this morning bothered me. None of it was abnormal though, he carried on, business as usual. He did say something that really rubbed me wrong and had it been any other day I would have simply corrected the misunderstanding then the two of us would have shared a slight laugh. Today, however, I more or less freaked out with absurd amounts of defense and raised my voice in irritated protest, ultimately waking up the Professor who was sleeping next to me in my bed. Way to go, I know.

I've been pretty quiet all day, irritated about most everything and my thoughts have wondered around, covering just about nearly every single topic. At one point, this morning, anger was swelling rapidly within my chest. It was in regards to something that in all honesty I have every right to be deeply angered about. I am reminded all the time of it's presence in my life; it's effects leave deep scars that would love to bathe in resentment and sometimes for a time do. Why is this bothering me so much today? Why is my heart looking out the window wishing it were somewhere else? Why is my brain insistent on making plans the rest of me does not want to follow through with? Today is not different than yesterday, in fact it may even be better than it was yesterday and most certainly is better than the day before so why then is all this anger surfacing today and seemingly out of nowhere?

I feel defeated.

I checked my emails a little while ago. Mail can be such a wonderful thing. I subscribe to a daily quote generator and often forward the really good ones along to one of my sisters. Today's quote, by Bradley D. Foster was titled 'Never Give Up', it states, "...in a world where everyone is granted agency, some of our loved ones may stray for a season. But we can never give up. We must always go back for them—we must never stop trying.... The anger within was immediately silenced upon reading those words. I know the peace will follow.

I hope that my little chickens can understand and forgive me later when they wake up from their naps. One little childish act, innocent and otherwise, stacked up on top of each other throughout the day and I gave way to the petty annoyance, shouted and then sent them each to their rooms to sleep it off. I think it's me, really, who needs the nap, or a time out at the very least.

I hope W. can forgive my crabbiness this morning as well.

birthday legends

2010-06-18T11:49:00.010-04:00

68 years ago today a legend was born who would forever change the history of rock...

Happy Birthday Paul McCartney!

40 years later, to the day, another legend was born; a legend in her own eyes of course, but for sure a pretty rad girl! *wink* I imagine though, that a few lives have never been the same as a result, I know of at least 4... they all wear clean underwear everyday.

brotherly admiration

2010-06-17T23:07:00.002-04:00

I was just witness to a rare moment between brothers: The Professor and Red were both sitting next to each other on the couch, each playing their Leapsters when Red turns to the Professor and randomly says to him, "Will, you're so awesome!" This makes me smile! Of course it lasted for just that moment, the Professor ignored Red then seconds later Red shouted at him for accidentally unplugging his game. *sigh* I take it in and soak it up when I can.

piece of crap

2010-06-09T11:36:00.003-04:00

The funniest classified ad ever!
http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=218&cat=438&ad=11020158

$100.00
Piece of Crap - Craftsman 21" 5.5hp Mower
Bluffdale, UT 84065 - Jun 2, 2010

You know you want it...

The Devil's very own Craftsman 21" 5.5 HP Self-propelled Lawnmower. Yes, that is correct, this is in fact Satan's lawn mower. Manufactured in Hell and shipped via the S.S. Titanic to a Sears store where I bought it.

This lawnmower is no ordinary lawnmower. No. I had hoped to buy an ordinary lawnmower, but instead got this pile of trash.

The sticker on the top indicates that it has a Honda engine. The funny thing is we all know that there is no way that Honda ever built that engine. It is really a Volkswagen engine assembled in Nazi Germany by Hitler himself.

The 5.5 HP engine is so powerful that you might wonder what HP stands for. Well that's horsepower. Cause it turns out that by horsepower, Craftsman really means Shetland Pony power. And by Shetland Pony power, they actually mean "Not really alive anymore Shetland Pony Power." You'd really have more luck harnessing a couple of cats to the front and having them pull it.

The sticker also indicates that it is the "Quietest and Lightest" engine available. This is surely a scientific claim verified by a couple deaf body-builders, because the only thing it is quieter and lighter than is a 1965 Lincoln Continental that is missing its exhaust system.

Conveniently, the gas tank that holds exactly enough gas to mow 95% of your yard without needing a refill, and was painted red by Mussolini or Kim Jong Ill, I'm not sure which.

The hardened steel cutting blades is as sharp as it was when it came out of the factory, and while it wont actually cut grass, it will cut things like match box cars, children's yard toys, and every other sprinkler head in my yard.

This mower mulches or bags. Neither of which it actually really does. It has a side discharge flap that is built of super strong plastic made with a couple melted Ziploc bags. And it NEVER EVER just randomly falls off when you are mowing, covering your face and body with lawn clippings. Who would ever design a mower that would do that? No not even a bitter UAW union worker that was forced to build this piece of crap when he really wanted to be at the Detroit Lions game.

The lawnmower's favorite movies are, "Thelma and Louse," "Fried Green Tomatoes," and "Beaches." It once went to see "Saw IV," but had to leave the theater because it got too scared seeing things getting cut.

The oil was last changed sometime during the Clinton administration. But, that said, the lawnmower does come with a lifetime of free oil-changes* (*To redeem your oil changes please contact BP in the Gulf of Mexico, or proceed directly to Pensacola Beach and scoop up a lifetime of free oil.)

This lawnmower has actually achieved Sainthood, when in 2002 it mowed a twenty foot strip of lawn without having the bag chute get clogged! This miracle, though it has never happened again, was witnessed by a 12 year old boy. For more details, contact his local priest. Well on second thought, don't. He didn't do anything to that kid. The worst he ever did was maybe watch a couple of episodes of Family Guy. And he is not a pervert. Instead please contact the former Cardinal Ratzinger who will vehemently deny all allegations.

This lawnmower has hardly been used. Any part that was actually used has been replaced because its superior construction and design allow for you to change out quality plastic parts over and over that should have been metal but they were to cheap to use it.

This lawn mower was actually made for a princess to mow her yard made out of cotton candy.

Because of the quality construction, you are the lucky individual that will get this "like new" lawnmower to learn such valuable things about a lawnmower than you never wanted to learn, like:

1) "Guaranteed to start with a single pull" would be true if it had a string long enough to hook to an Atlas V rocket that is going to the moon.

2) "Adjustable-height mowing deck" manages to always scalp part of your lawn any way you adjust it.

3) "Easy Attach Bagger" locks that pesky grass in the bag so that no matter how hard you shake it, that grass will be stuck in there until you finally give up trying to get it out.

The throttle cable is currently broken. I just jammed a screwdriver in there this last time to mow with it. Worked better than usual.

I considered hooking it to the back of my car with a rope and driving it down I-15 at 130mph, but instead want to offer the chance for someone else to feel my pain and am selling it to a "deserving" home. One that might have a yard covered completely in rocks or dead grass.

$100 for this little piece of history.

8 is great!

2010-05-28T15:26:00.010-04:00

Miss Ash turned 8 yesterday. 8 fantastic years with this girl, I couldn't be happier!

When asked what she wanted, I of course got the standard "horse" answer. She has been asking for one every single year for every birthday (and every Christmas) since she was two. I don't expect this to change either until she gets one.

We spent a lovely day together being silly, playing games and reading books. Come dinner time, we headed on over to the local Dairy Queen, Ash's pick, and stuffed our faces with bacon cheese burgers, onion rings (they have the very best!) and banana splits. When we got home, we all piled on the couch and watched the new Shrek movie (yes from our living room couch, because that's how we roll).

8 things I LOVE about my girl:
her eyes-- oh how I love her big beautiful "Pocahontas" dark brown eyes, there is something amazing and thought provoking in those eyes

the kiss she gives me every morning when I wake up-- 8 years of waking up to a kiss on the cheek from this girl never gets old and never will

her imagination-- boundless

her brain-- this girl is so incredibly smart, she has the memory of an elephant and loves to learn; one day, she will change the world

her heart-- it's filled with kindness, love and forgiveness, understanding and compassion

her handwriting-- she taught herself how to write in cursive two years ago, seriously, and it is beautiful!

talent-- Miss Ash has it and lots of it too! artistic, vocal, athletic, educational, writing...; recently she has expressed a greater interest in piano, lessons start soon and I have no doubt that she will be a natural!

her wit-- she surprises us with some of the most clever and amusing statements sometimes

Happy Happy Birthday Miss Ashley B. You'll always be my Baby Doll. Love you forever!

Monday

2010-05-10T22:00:00.004-04:00

Professor: "What holiday is today?"
Mom: "Monday."
Professor: "What? Not the day. HOL-I-DAY."
Mom: "There is no holiday to celebrate today."
W.: "It's my unbirthday!"
Red: "huh? Mine too! yay!"
Professor: "Oh my." *rolls eyes*

I had a friend once.

2010-05-07T07:00:00.011-04:00

I had a friend once.
She was beautiful.

We spent every day together: pb&b sandwiches, long conversations on the swing about W. and about how much the Professor looked just like him, conversations about her husband, the war, her brother and God. We laughed about such funny things, played games with the kids and challenged one another to see who could answer the questions faster while watching Jeopardy on her old black and white.

She called me every morning to be sure I was okay and to invite us to lunch. If my phone line was tied up because I was on the internet, she'd get irritated and was sure to let me know. It always made me laugh.

My day started and ended with her.

Besides Miss Ash and the Professor, and long days spent laying sick on the bathroom floor, she was my reason for bravely facing each new day, well her and the tiny hope of something wonderful from W. waiting for me when I opened the mailbox.

On the really hard days I would cry on her shoulder; she knew just how I felt, being alone with no word from her Love either. She was my best friend and I loved her dearly.

When it came time to part ways I cried. My heart raced and the butterflies in my stomach stirred, I was anxious to go knowing what awaited me, but saddened when it was time to say goodbye.

It was a sweet goodbye, perhaps meant to be our last. She packed us a hardy lunch, something she always did for those headed out of town, and when we said our final goodbyes, she whispered such lovely words in my ear, with which I will never forget.

For several months after, we still talked daily, but then life took hold and those daily calls fell away and melted into once a week or every few weeks. Letters were exchanged often, however, cards and notes filled with photographs and brightly colored original pieces of childish art.

Our friendship remained.

I wish the end would have been the same too. I think of her every so often and I miss her. I always have, long before she closed her eyes. I wish things would have been different, I wish I had never heard her, I wish I would have been ignorant, stuck in that bliss and had been deaf to the harsh words. I cried when things took their turn and my heart broke terribly, but I knew what was right.

I visited my old friend a few months ago. I couldn't see her, but I imagined she was still beautiful. I knelt close beside her and whispered "I love you" and again we parted ways.

I had a friend once.

"the name is Dr. Jones"

2010-05-06T14:23:00.087-04:00

Red: "Where's my whip?! WHERE IS MY WHIP?!! *sigh* Where IS IT?"

Up until yesterday, Red's "whip" was a jump rope. He swung and swooshed that thing around like the real Indiana Jones and he's convinced it has saved his life on more than one occasion. Recently I bought him a belt, bright orange and braided; one of the old school feed-through-the-two-loops-then-weave-back-and-pull-tight-through-just-one kinds. He traded up, that's the new whip now.

He tells me, "Mom I'm bigger than dad and a way better kisser than he is now that I have my own belt huh." This makes me laugh.

..back to the whip...

Mom: "What's the problem Foxx"
Red: "Uh, the name is Dr. Jones, thank you, but you can call me 'Indiana-Molverine'."
Mom: "Oh, my apologies Indy. What are you looking for"
Red: "My whip."

He continues to look around, completely missing the obvious then shouts his usual frustrated "THAT'S IT!!"

Mom: "Hang on to your unders son, here's your whip."

The archeological world better be thankful Indiana Jones had a mom. I'm mostly sure she found a misplaced whip a time or two in her life as well.

Red: "Mom. How many times do I have to tell you, stop saying unders. I wear manly boxer briefs like my dad."

We both roll our eyes at each other.

Red: "Did you know that 'Molverine' doesn't brush his teeth? uh huh."

I make a disgusting face and he shakes head yes as if the very words he just spoke were the absolute Gospel truth.

Red: "I like you mom."
Mom: "I like you too 'Indiana-Molverine'."

Lucy

2010-04-12T13:48:00.007-04:00

Lucy's in the sky with diamonds...

11 dead in two months. That is basically serial killer status- serial fish killer that is. I think the kids are still safe.

Fish are not our forte. And that's all I have to say about that.

ice cream freckles

2010-04-09T13:05:00.002-04:00

Who needs a tattoo when you've got an ice cream cone shaped freckle?

Red asked me, "um Mom? Do you think it tastes like 'choclet' or 'shwabawees'?" I don't suppose I'll ever know, but he offered to taste it for me.

I'm not sure how I feel about my three year old licking my arm.

fish Heads-- part 4

2010-03-29T12:38:00.009-04:00

"Yup, Lucy is still alive." Red checks every day and when he sees her moving around he tells her that he loves her then runs to tell me the good news.

She is a FAT little thing. The kids call her "Miss Fat Lard Lucy" and if I didn't know any better I'd think she was pregnant, which would have made Ethel a boy.

We've recently added two new fish to the tank. Another Algae Eater, whom the kids have lovingly decided to name "Arg the Pirate" as opposed to his distant cousin "Gar the Pirate" (I know so original, right?) and a Black Molly. Just as the name states, this fish is black, very black. It looks like an ink stain swimming around, and neurotically mind you.

It. never. stops. moving.

We have not come up with a name for it yet and I suppose it may be doomed to never getting one either.

We hope to bring Jeff and Lester the II home soon; they are missed.

29 and 6

2010-03-27T18:13:00.017-04:00

W. turned 29 and the Professor turned 6 on the 20th. A huge happy happy birthday! The usual, "brownie cake" was baked by request, W. shared the bowl this year with the Professor and Red both, something he usually hides in a corner and selfishly licks clean himself. Miss Ash got a spatula all to her self and everyone was happy.

The kids spent the morning climbing trees and playing football and soccer with W. while I sat in a boring and, what seemed to me, pointless meeting; then it was fun and games afterward. The Professor picked Subway for lunch and we all enjoyed a movie of old school Transformer cartoons that evening while eating our brownies with milk to wash it down.

The Professor had lots of birthday wishes and even drew me a picture of what he wanted. His demands were simple yet exact. He didn't get EVERYTHING he wanted, but pretty close. *in my best Napoleon Dynamite voice* Lucky! W. on the other hand is procrastinating going to get his gift, a pair of new shoes, something he desperately needs. I think I want him to have new shoes more than he cares to get them himself. Can you blame a girl? His shoes are OLD, possibly older than he is and they stink. Stinky shoes make for stinky feet... and crusty socks. Trust me I know, I do the laundry for 5 people. (my feet have never stunk just so you know)

What does this have to do with birthdays? nothing. Let me get back on track...

So the grand debate about wrapping paper came about again. To wrap or not to wrap. Yes, W., it is true that wrapping paper is obnoxiously overpriced. whatever. Yes it is true that it is a waste in the long scheme of things. Yes it is true that kids don't really care about anything else except what is under the paper (and even then, sometimes they don't care about that either). But what is a birthday without wrapped presents?

Well W. wasn't about to waste his precious time wrapping presents, I wasn't too thrilled either and was about to go along with W.'s idea, which included a towel (and from there I will spare you the details), but then an idea to wrap all the presents together as one big present was put forth. And so it was. I thought I did a rather glorious job. Miss Ash and Red (well sort of Red, which really means he said he didn't want to help so I drew a picture with my left hand to make it look as if Red had drawn it himself) made a card and taped it to the present(s).

The Professor tore into his gift like it was the last thing he would ever do in this life. He sure was surprised when that one present ended up being a dozen! He was a happy camper and I was happy that he was excited.

Then of course began the ever tedious monkey work of removing said gifts from the packaging. Who actually sits there in a factory and ties the twist ties, wraps them around each toy in 5 obnoxious different ways?

"So, what do you do for a living?"
"I'm a twist tie-er."
"Oh, Really?!"

W. and I have agreed that I wrap all the gifts, this includes ALL Christmas gifts, birthday gifts etc. and once opened he then gets the task of removing them from the package. I OBVIOUSLY get the better end of that deal, eh? Don't tell him though.

I can't believe that it's already been six years since I gave birth to such a stinking cute little boy! He had SO MUCH extra wrinkly "grandpa skin" and a perfectly round head. I'll never forget sitting in the dimly lit hospital room a little after 2:30 in the morning, exhausted but so happy and so in love; the BEST doctor in the whole wide world, Dr. Alan T. Rappleye (if you live in Utah look him up, he is AMAZING!), congratulated us and shook W.'s hand, then bent over and kissed the Professor on the head and gave me a hug. SO sweet. I love that man! Then we were left, just the three of us, together.

Six years later my Silly Will Bear still has a perfectly round head and he is so smart and sweet. I love your guts son, "more than anyone in the universe can possibly love anybody's guts and nobody loves you more!"

I "lub" you W. and you too Professor X. Happy Happy birthday to you both!

fish heads-- part 3

2010-03-03T17:31:00.005-05:00

So Falcon crapped out and passed through the veil sometime through the night before last.

I now have a ziplock bag full of dead, disgusting and stinky fish in my freezer. After putting Gar the Pirate in, who was the first to die, W. simply left the bag on the counter. It's a good thing the Pirate was dead otherwise the random poking and prodding, from two very curious boys offering dares to one another, might have been a tad bit uncomfortable.

The thought of dead fish makes me want to gag and barf and all other manner of heaving my stomach and other insides up through my throat and out my mouth into a garbage bag so I used the reacher to grasp the ziplock bag... I know, so ridiculous, right? I mean it's not like the fish is going jump up and start dancing. Although I did have a dream last night that they all somehow got out of the bag and in their very grody, rotting glory opened the freezer, jumped out and began marching, single file, across the kitchen floor to my room- they were coming after me with pitch forks.

Anyway, I used the reacher to grasp the bag and place it into a paper lunch bag; then it got placed on top of the fridge. Now it's in the freezer and all other items that one day our family will consume have been moved from the vicinity.

Will Lucy survive? stay tuned to find out...

fish heads-- part 2

2010-03-01T22:07:00.001-05:00

Jeff is dead.
Ethel is dead.
Both have gone to fishy heaven.

fish heads, fish heads

2010-03-01T17:00:00.007-05:00

On Saturday we received a fish tank complete with a fish, whom I appropriately named Stinky Pete, and part of another- the head to be exact. grody, I know.

Two days later and we have managed to kill Stinky Pete, who's name was changed, prior to his death, to Kirk (think Gilmore Girls).

We had bought nine other fish to keep Kirk company as well, all but four have died.

Among the dead:
Gar the Pirate
Ed and Edd, both of which were sucked up into the filter
and poor Eddy
Lester (think Chuck)
and Kirk, of course

Falcon is not expected to make it through the night and Lucy and Ethel don't seem to be doing so well either.

Jeff (again think Chuck) seems to be The Fish. He's still alive and eating, he ate all the food this morning when the few surviving were fed, and he's still swimming around looking as healthy as ever. When his pal Lester died, he stayed near by for quite some time, swimming circles around him and nudging him a bit with his nose. ("Do fish have noses?" the Professor asks.) The two, during their short friendship, were inseparable.

So what happened? Well that is not quite known yet, though I do have some ideas. At first I thought the water temperature might be too hot, baked fish with a side salad anyone? Nope that isn't it. 72-74 °F is just fine according to FishLore, which states, "Generally speaking, for tropical fish a good temperature range would be anywhere from 72 °F to 78 °F (22 °C to 26 °C)." Sorry, baked fish are no longer on the menu.

I'm thinking we forgot two very important steps in our setup of the tank:
#1. the removal of chlorine and chloramine from the water
and b. the nitrogen cycle

Poor poor fish.

And poor Red. There was only one thing on his mind this morning when he woke up: fish. He made his way straight to the fish tank, pushing between Miss Ashley and the Professor, who were both staring at the destruction that had not yet been cleared out. When he saw Lester floating around lifeless in the fish tank he cried.

Thank goodness for Petsmart's 14 day return policy on the fish, although very much to the Professor's disappointment; he was excited about sending the 6 dead swirling down the toilet to swim with his daily number two.

balloon thief

2010-02-16T18:30:00.003-05:00

The neighbor bought his wife 10 dozen roses and 2 dozen colorful metallic heart shaped balloons for their anniversary which happened to also be Valentines Day. It was quite a sight and I can only imagine the surprised look on her face when she got home that day!

The balloons and flowers filled the common entry way of both our apartments and at some point throughout the day, a few of the balloons had floated up the stairwell to our door. The kids, of course, eyeballed those balloons wishing they could have them, but W. and I both made it clear that they were not to touch them.

By late afternoon the entry had been cleared of all balloons and flowers, thus the surprise was over, but the few balloons that had floated up the stairs to our door were still there so I grabbed them and gave them to the kids.

This morning my neighbor knocks on the door, bright and early, to ask me for an address. I wanted to tell him that I had taken the balloons before he saw them so I told the kids to put them in their room until I had a chance.

Seconds after I opened the door Red ran right out, balloon in hand, pushed his way between the door and my legs and announces, "Look what my mom stole from you!"

The little snitch.

"I love, I love, I love..."

2010-02-14T07:00:00.002-05:00

A few of the things that I love, "most ardently":

the way the Professor snuggles into my neck before he falls asleep
Miss Ashley's fantastic imagination- there is something almost magical about her
when W. holds me so close and we slow dance together
Red's dimples
W.'s determination to accomplish great things even when at times it seems impossible
the whispered "I love you" from Miss Ash every morning in my ear
the Professor's laugh- it makes me laugh just thinking about it!
when Red says, "Mom, you are so pwetty!" he tells me this every single day

Joy

2010-02-05T07:00:00.009-05:00

I received a box in the mail two weeks ago sent from my dad. I had been anticipating it's arrival wondering how I would feel when it came, wondering if I would open it immediately as the kids ran in and out of the room or if I would wait until I was alone.

At first I just stared at it, my heart sort of stressed; then, after several minutes had passed, using a knife I sliced along the tape. There were gifts wrapped for the kids, W. and myself from my Dad and Wendy, which of course created a buzz in the house... and then there were things, old things, priceless in value but rich in memories, things that which I had not seen in over 15 years, things that stirred the childlike innocence within and things that I had once peered up at and wondered about their magic.

My mind wondered to a far away time and place...
nutty bars and milk before bed, it was one of her favorite's;
crystal ash trays sky blue in color, white and amber;
humming birds and petunia wall ornaments, she loved those;
Suzy, who could ever love such a sweet dog more?
picking grapes for her delicious homemade jelly;
sitting on the floor eating her homemade mac and cheese, secretly sharing with Suzy the yucky green beans and cut up hot dog;
the smell of freshed brewed coffee on a Sunday morning, newspapers all over the table, a bowl of Toastieos and Jimbo's laugh, she loved him and I did too;
the sewing room, what wonderful creations began their existence there. This was also, for a short time, my room. I still remember all those shoes hanging on the backside of the door and I remember thinking who on earth could ever need so many? Grannys do I guess. My baby blanket which my aunt had made for me was in desperate need of repair, so she told me to bring it by and she'd see what she could do. It sat under the sewing table in a paper bag for months and then it got thrown away. I've never forgiven her;
I think every single grandchild hid in the laundry shoot, I was disappointed when I no longer fit;
Christmas skits on the Eve, everyone piling into cars and trucks to drive around and see the lights then coming back for hot chocolate and pie, coming over on Christmas morning to show off our sweet treats;
organ music and her familiar voice singing;
the long gravel driveway;
Louise, she was her best friend, we both cried together when she passed away;
bar-b-ques behind the house, her laugh was always so rich when stories of my dad stuffing his sister's in the closet or accidentally catching the garage on fire were told and retold as the sun set;
Grandpa's workroom, she caught me up there once looking around, I thought she was going to get mad, but instead she showed me some of the things he had made and told me all about him, she cried and I wished I had known him;
sitting in the big chair with her at night watching Golden Girls and 20/20, she liked Barbara Walters;
I don't recall the incident surrounding the burned spot on the bright orange shag carpet in the front bedroom, but I do remember signing my name on the paddle after it was introduced to my behind, I still think that is a form of torture;
it was a glorious day when I found the candy cupboard and all the wonderful treasures she'd hidden therein;
the phone that hung on the wall and the cord that stretched for days, she'd be pouring another cup of coffee for herself or making something for lunch while chatting on the phone and the cord would be stretched across the table, she would get so irritated when I flipped it around;
the silver butterfly necklace she gave me, I still wear it;
Frito's dipped in Ketchup, it's a family favorite;
she got really mad at me once, said some awful things that she thought of me and told me to wait outside on the porch for my dad; I was mad and heartbroken;
she always asked Ken to mow her lawn and paid him too, she let me do it once, I wore overalls that got cut, but she stitched the hole;
late night scrabble games at the kitchen table, she was a good speller, I wanted to be a good speller too;
and then there is the nightlight in the hallway...

I remember going on a road trip with her, my cousin Nickie came along too; we drove to New Mexico. I've never laughed so hard at a comment she made, it was in regards to the squeaky hotel bed; 90 miles per hour in her car; the flooding rains, getting lost in Texas, visiting a relative who lived in an old post office, she was especially ornery with this woman, the cheese factory, Uncle Jr. and Aunt Betty, poker, hanging the laundry outside on the line, and stealing her cigarettes... sorry Granny.

I sifted through the box feeling sad and a little empty. I wanted so much to call her and tell her thank you for the Christmas gifts she had previously bought and saved for a time when we would be home from our adventures. She and I did not have a very close grandmother/granddaughter relationship, but she did tell me once that she was very proud of me; she told me that I was a good person, beautiful inside and out.

Granny died last October. It's hard to believe that she is gone sometimes I think because I am not there, or maybe perhaps because she has always been here...

Thank you Granny for letting me try on all your flower earrings, for letting me snuggle with you in your bed, thank you for helping me to buy "the Skate" and for telling me that I was a beautiful momma. I forgive you for throwing away my baby blanket... and I love you.

DING time to eat!

2010-02-04T13:57:00.005-05:00

I sat here for several minutes waiting for the timer to ding. When it finally did... well first I must admit that I didn't jump up right away, instead I sat here for about four minutes longer then I got up and checked on lunch.

Now visualize for a moment, if you will, two boys sprawled on the kitchen floor, "We are SO hunnngryyyy!" whine, whine, whine... Yup, that would be the Professor and his mighty partner in crime, Red, both apparently dying from a terrible episode of starvation. (we ate breakfast only about 3 1/2 hours ago but that is obviously just too long to wait between meals-- take note moms and dads.)

Okay, back to checking on lunch... so I opened the oven, ready to pull out a baking sheet covered with golden chicken nuggets...

mmm can you smell them? crispy and oh so tasty-- dip them in a little bit of chili sauce or ranch, maybe some ketchup or mustard sauce (my own concoction thank you very much)...

But wait-- there was nothing in there! The oven was empty, toasty hot but empty.

I totally thought that I had placed the baking sheet in the oven! In fact I remember putting it in. I was wearing the oven mitt, even though the baking sheet was not hot yet, and I had readjusted the temperature for the third time (never mind about that)...

Well what can you do? another twelve minutes 'til lunch kids...

favorite things

2010-01-27T19:17:00.005-05:00

My favorite part of the day is when I get a call and on the other line I hear, "Hi Doll, I'm on my way home."

king or queen?

2010-01-25T18:30:00.007-05:00

Today I am thankful for my king size bed.

I was sandwiched between two snoring boys early this morning, one laying sideways with his little feet practically in my mouth and the other cuddled up close to my neck. I was suffocating. I rolled over toward the feet and slid them down, hoping to be able to put a little bit of space between myself and both boys.

That is when I felt it... wetness, a lot of warm wetness. Well, I knew what that meant.

The sun had not yet come up and the house was still so quiet. Red was sleeping soundly so who was I to bother him and wake everyone up while cleaning up the mess? So I simply pulled the covers up to his neck, to mask any smells of pee, then cuddled super close to the Professor; he rolled over towards the edge of the bed and I snuggled in closer. With two feet safely between Red's pee and myself, we all slept soundly for another hour and a half.

I'm rethinking the idea to get rid of the king to buy a queen.

agree to disagree

2010-01-25T08:00:00.005-05:00

I disagree. Not sure with who, but I like to disagree with everyone... and anyone on a Monday.

disappearing Mr. Freeze

2010-01-21T10:00:00.011-05:00

Finding toys in the refrigerator at our house is not uncommon. Many times I've opened the door and reached in for a gallon of milk, the ketchup or the shredded cheese and instead pulled out "Robin Elephant", a dinosaur, a hot wheels car or Wall-E.

Today I opened the door to find Mr. Freeze hanging from the top shelf. I removed what to me was simply a toy and placed it on the dresser in the kids room. Later Red, who had climbed half way into the fridge looking underneath everything, angrily shouted, "Mr. Fweeze distapeered! He's gone forever. This dumb fwidge was suppose to fweeze him not eat him!"

Who knew there was mission in progress?

laundry is for losers

2010-01-19T18:00:00.005-05:00

I'm not the best about folding the laundry as it comes out of the dryer. In fact I avoid it as if each article of clothing were riddled with a new kind of disease sure to kill me instantly if I were to try to fold it and tuck it away in a dark drawer. I wash and wash to my hearts content and move it from the dryer to a basket, but that is where it ends and I pretend it doesn't exist.

W. ~~never~~ complains about this particularly irritating habit of mine and ~~never~~ nags me about the countless baskets of laundry that are permanently stationed at the foot of our bed. Each morning he ~~happily~~ sifts through the mounds of clothes in search of a clean t-shirt and socks and he ~~never~~ cusses when he's running late and can't find any underwear.

The following is a snippet from W.'s prayer this morning before he left for work:

"please bless us to feel motivated to get the house in order and get things put away..."

Okay I can take a hint, especially since it came shortly after he had been sitting on the edge of the bed, for a prolonged and very irritating period of time, pulling articles of clothing one by one out of the basket in search of a clean t-shirt. (Thankfully there had been one left.)

Well from his lips to God's ears because I felt that tremendous amount of motivation today and not only did I hang up/fold and put away all the clean clothes, I washed the dishes, cleaned the floors and cleaned the kids room, finding toys that had been lost for so long that they seemed new again.

I do have my limits though. The bathroom remains unchanged and I will not go near it with a ten foot pole.

breakfast is served

2010-01-15T11:50:00.010-05:00

The morning is never short of delight and smiles and love all around...

Prof. X: "This says Cinnamon Toast Crunch."

Red: "No it doesn't."

Prof. X: "Yes IT does! Right here, Cinnamon. Toast. Crunch. You don't even know how to read!"

Red: "Yes I do!"

Prof. X: "No you DON'T! What does W-I-L-L spell then?"

Red: "Will."

This was a small, but proud moment. I had to smile...

Prof. X: "Well what does T-R-I-X spell, huh?"

Red: "Cereal."

and then I laughed...

Prof. X: "You don't know how to read."

Red: "YES! I! DO! WILL!... Ash, what does this say?"

Miss Ash: "It says 'Trix'."

Red: "It says 'TRIX'! WILL! and I CAN TOO READ!"

and laughed some more.

butts that don't swim

2010-01-13T12:00:00.005-05:00

Oh goody, my favorite part of the day...

"Mom! Come wipe my butt! My done poop!"
then comes the "aw tarter sauce!" said mostly to himself
"My fell in the toilet aden!"

giggles, snickers, hee hees and hahas fill the air...

I go in, wipe in hand, and rescue Red from the toilet. He informs me that his butt doesn't swim and we talk about things that do then he collects his "man briefs" and Batman from on top the stool and runs off making woosh noises.

shopping list

2010-01-12T20:00:00.007-05:00

Well that was a fun exercise. Go up and down isle after isle, can't find much of what is really needed or wanted, finally fill the cart and go check out... the wallet is MISSING! Arg. Check and double check all the pockets, then check again. Call home... ring, ring, ring... "Hey, is my wallet on top of the fridge?" nope. Rats. Run out into the freezing night air, check the car... NOT THERE EITHER. Sigh. Call home... ring, ring, ring... "Hey, is my wallet in the back pocket of the pants I wore yesterday?" Figures.

Note to self: don't forget the wallet, money comes in handy if expecting to purchase anything... oh and never shop at that grocery store again, it's frustrating to try and find anything.

on the radio

2010-01-08T15:18:00.013-05:00

I just realized I have been sitting here on the couch for the past three and half hours reading with ear phones stuck in my ears. There is no sound even coming from them, but I've been listening all the same.

I think I'll go sneak a handful of Kisses from the cupboard then I'll pretend to be interestingly watching out the kitchen window so the kids don't see my treasure as it melts in my mouth.