Nobody Called Today

Much Overdue!

2012-01-18T23:35:00.001-06:00

Baby AJ came the day after my last post. She was born 5 minutes before midnight. I got to the hospital around 10:30 and an hour later when my midwife said, "You're having this baby today!" I thought she was crazy and didn't believe her. I think she was crazy. But now I believe her.

My sister rolled into town around midnight on the 20th-21st. Y'see, she was in Texas for Danyo's birth. It wasn't planned for her to be here, but it worked out, and the same thing happened this time! Her visit was technically to come see my week old baby. Not to actually get her to be born! She took her self-imposed call to get that baby outta me, very seriously. Traipsed me all over the mall (I don't go to malls---people get shot at malls), kept making me go walk, yelled at me for sitting down for more than 5 minutes. It was annoying. And very effective.

Around 9 pm contractions came on, but no different than ones I'd been experiencing for the last 8 or 9 days. In fact, the week prior, I came home from my last class and began contracting. For SIX HOURS. But they never got painful enough to really get worked up about, and when I fell asleep, they went away. That was really disappointing.

So when they started this time, I didn't get too worked up, but I was hopeful, as ever. Mostly because we realized that Bo was born on a Thursday, and on the 22nd. AND my niece, who was here, was born on the 22nd, on a Thursday. We thought it would be cool to let her join those ranks!

Around 9:20 I said aloud, "If these are still going at 10:00, I'll go to the hospital." My sister was sitting across from me playing on her I-touch and completely ignoring my motions. She didn't think I was hurting enough to get any attention. My niece was on the couch and silent as well. Probably thinking, "this isn't how it is in the movies..."

Well, they didn't get much worse, but also didn't go away, so at 10:00, I got up to call my midwife. She said, "Well, if you think you are in labor, go ahead and go to the hospital, I'm headed there myself right now." It was a midwife I hadn't met yet. I wondered what part of "this is my fourth child and the last one came in 4 hours" made her think there was an "if" in the equation.

I definitely progressed in the 2 minute drive to the hospital. I made my sister go a longer route to avoid a brick road between my house and the hospital. Yeah, my sister took me to the hospital. Why you ask? Because my husband was sitting at McDonalds with my BIL, shooting the breeze, ignoring his phone. I'm not bitter.

At 10:45 I was checked and dilated to a 4. I didn't think that was such a big deal, kind of thought I'd be a bit further along. I immediately started asking for an epidural. I'm kind of a badass like that.

I had to have IV fluids for at least half an hour before the anesthesiologist could come, and they couldn't get a good stick on me. Had to call in the IV cavalry or something so I think I finally got an IV around 11:15 or 11:20. At 11:30 my sweet little midwife sat on the end of my bed and said, "I think you might not have time for an epidural." And then later said the baby would be coming before the day was over. I did not handle the news well. At this point, I kind of like hearing my sister and J's recount of things because I was not in a good state of mind and don't really remember much. But stuff was said. And it's kind of funny to hear.

I did not get my epidural. She was born before midnight. It got real ugly real fast. But I survived, she's perfect, and I can happily say I am done.done.done.DONE. I think that may have been the first thing out of my mouth---"I am never doing that again!"

You should never say never. Truly.

She has blonde blonde BLONDE hair and it's terribly cute. She looks like a boy. She has a new look, definitely one of ours, but not a carbon copy of any of the other three. Her temperament reminds me a bit of Bo. She's pretty easy going. She has a ridiculously strong neck and head control. She starts making weird noises and roots around when she's hungry, only cries if I ignore that for far too long. Bo was like that. I'd wake up in the middle of the night to sounds of a little baby pig rootin' around for some grub. Avee and Danyo---not so much. It was 0-60 in 4.3 on the scream scale when they were hungry. That's so interesting Nobody, thank you for sharing! You're welcome.

My recovery was quite slow, in my opinion. I can remember being able to get up and do simple things and ambulate quite easily after Avee and Danyo were born. However, I remember when Bo was born, there was a one day gap between when my mom was there for 10 days, and when my cousin came to. I had to make myself a sandwich and I broke out into a sweat halfway through the process and had to lean on the counter after the mustard, before the cheese. His delivery was brutal, and since he was my first, I didn't know any differently. It took 10 days for me to be able to go without pain meds and do very basic things. Up and down the stairs was even too much on most days. Fortunately, J was there for my every need. Despite his being at McDonald's and not answering his phone when I was in labor... Just kidding.

One morning J brought me breakfast in bed and Danyo started begging for breakfast in bed. J, not really thinking it mattered that much, told him no. Danyo sobbed. I told J he had been asking for a couple of months for breakfast in bed, I just always forgot. So J made three plates and all three kids sat on my bed and ate breakfast...on bed. It was really very cute.

Well, there's lots going on, and lots I could blog about, but I knew I needed to get this written before AJ turned 27. Poor fourth born...

Tomorrow when the baby isn't fussing for me to feed her and it's not 11:30pm, I'll add the picture of me in the hospital with Santa, Mrs. Claus, and Sparky the Fire Dog. Totally worth coming back for, if you read this before then.

The "One Last Post" Post

2011-12-21T06:27:00.003-06:00

For the last two weeks I've thought, "I should do just one last post for good measure" and as each day has passed I've thought, "Fyoosh, I'm sure glad I didn't do that too soon!" It's been two weeks and one day since I last posted. Still no baby.

It has been driving me crazy not to be in control as much as I'd like to be, and as much as I like to think I am in life. I am learning about myself in this process, and it's good. At this point, I haven't really given up hope on being in control and predicting a date (even though, with each passing day, the odds are in my favor of being right) but I finally have conceded that I don't get to pick the "when". In fact, not even guaranteed the where and how, just hoping I have control over that!

I have become the regular, grumpy, overdue pregnant lady. Everything everyone says to me annoys me. If I hear the word "trampoline" again in the next 6 months, it will be too soon. I just want to say, "You aren't funny" to people. But I refrain. I'm mostly nice like that.

My kids think it's hilarious that my belly smashes up against the steering wheel when I'm driving them to school. I'd back up, but I have relatively short legs for someone my height, so I can't really. I think that right there should be proof enough that I'm done!

Every day Avee dashes off to school saying, "Goodbye, I love you, I hope you aren't here when I get home from school today!" This waiting is driving her crazy. I love that. I love how excited she is about having a new baby. It makes me SO happy that she is getting a sister.

Okay, let's see if I can talk about anything else...

Bo got a lead part in the school musical. He brought the script home yesterday and it's quite a big undertaking. What thrills me is that he got the part based on his ability to sing and perform, and his music teacher has no idea what extraordinary memorization skills he has. I'm mostly excited that now his memorization skills will go toward memorizing lines and songs, and less on learning every word that Weird Al has ever uttered.

His part is big and I am SO excited to help him learn it and ultimately to see it performed. I am so proud of him for putting himself out there and auditioning for a lead like that. He's just a little guy and he's gotten little to no encouragement from us on the matter. We didn't even know he'd auditioned until he told us he got a callback. Then we basically prepped him for not getting the part since he was the youngest in the group and would have 2 more years to play the part if he didn't get it this year. I think his teacher was a little put off by my incredulity when she called to tell us he got the part and make sure we had his support on getting him to school early FIVE DAYS A WEEK. I happily committed for J. I'll be busy with a newborn...

I don't know if I've put it on here, Bo wants to be an actor. He's said that for about a year now. Being an actor and a karate expert were two of his New Years resolutions this past year. He takes it quite seriously. The other day he told me he'd like to be a substitute teacher and an actor. I told him the combination was excellent since neither of them guaranteed full-time employment. I would sure love to know what goes on in that brain of his sometimes. He had complained that he didn't like "guest teachers" and I explained to him how hard it was to be a substitute teacher when you don't know the kids, or the routine, and kids tend to be naughty for subs, even if they aren't naughty usually (ie, 8 year old Nobody), etc, etc. I don't know how he went from complaining about substitutes to wanting to be one. S'all good. That's my boy.

He also told me yesterday that he was pretty sure pomegranates evolved from blueberries because of their similarities in shape. I wrote it on Flacebook, but I should probably record it here too because it's just too good. After he found out he got the part for the play he commented, "This must be how Superman felt when he got the part for Superman." I loved his statement so much, I didn't dare dissect it, like my brain wanted to. I really wanted to know if he meant the actor or if he really thought Superman was Superman. I just didn't want to ruin the goodness of his statement.

Later, about 3 hours after we'd heard the news, he casually said, "Ever since I found out I got the part, I've just been under so much pressure of happiness." I seriously wanted to pick him up and throw him for how cute that statement was. Maybe I have emotional expression issues, I don't know. He sure doesn't!

My sister is coming up here today. Initially it was to see the baby. I haven't got the heart to tell her there's no baby to see yet. Heh. I just can't believe she's getting here before I have the baby. She's bringing me my little, (okay, she's not little) college Freshman niece, Erica. I'm pretty excited to see her. Even though she has lived in England for the past 11 years, she chose a stateside college and I couldn't be more thrilled about the easier access to her. I will be rewarding her decision to go to college in the states, with a lot of chocolate and a newborn baby to squish and love. I don't think it's easy to go that far from home for college. Everything she does, she makes it look easy though. Actually, now that I think about it, all of my nieces are kind of amazing like that. You know, for having such a wacky family (and I do) my siblings sure have amazing kids. They probably all get it from me....

Yesterday at Danyo's little Catholic Preschool they had a birthday party for baby Jesus. I love that he goes to a church preschool. Every time he referred to it, I thought of the prayer scene from Talladega Nights. I don't know why a birthday party for baby Jesus is so funny to me. But it is.

I am so looking forward to this Christmas Break and having the kids home for a couple of weeks. They are long overdue for a break. I hope my grouchiness dissipates once I'm not a disgruntled 9+ months pregnant mama. I feel bad for my kids how grouchy I am to them, but I seriously can't stop myself even when I try. The other night I apologized to Bo for being such a grouch to him all evening (the dude whistles constantly and I yelled at him at least 5 times to stop, plus he persists in eating ALL foods with his hands---seriously, even stew---and he got his knuckles rapped with a fork for it, and, and....I was not nice). He answered, "It's okay, you're always like that." He knows he's funny---that's his problem.

I feel like I need to say something about Avee or Omar is going to call me out on the inequity. Holy crap, you know how ridiculously long these posts will be once Baby #4 stops being a squishy red blob and actually gives me blog fodder? Ay yi yi.

Avee. A million things I could write. Her latest thing is to try and give us an unanswerable question. It's totally obnoxious and funny at the same time. Yesterday J was taking her seriously and answering how electricity works and she was just waiting for his last sentence so she could ask another question beyond that. It's really quite brilliant, but after listening to half of J's mind-numbing explanation, I had to break the news to him that she didn't care and was just trying to trap him into saying, "I don't know." I think he might have been sad if he didn't have another kid who was eating up every word of the explanation.

She told me last night she wants to be a cheerleader. Basically she wants to wear a cute uniform and shake her butt with purpose. I'm sure of it. I don't even know what her exposure to cheerleading is, I have actively kept it to a minimum. Ah, well. Story of our lives with Avee.

Okay, I've killed some serious time. One less hour of waiting to have this baby.

Merry Christmas!

Procrastination Post

2011-12-06T09:47:00.003-06:00

This is obligatory. I'm doing it because I have to. I have a major assignment due in T-6 hours and 12 minutes. You see why I have to blog?

Baby is due in 9 days. There are no indications she will come early. I'm glad for this for more reasons than the discomfort of being 9 months pregnant. This is my first winter baby and I want her to come out as big as a 3 month old---having a baby in an Iowa winter just makes me nervous. Probably working in an ER doesn't help that fear...

Also, school has been kicking my butt up one side and down the other (I'm a big girl, that's a lot of ground to cover) in the last couple of weeks. Going into labor and/or having a newborn before today would really have made things difficult. After today, all I have left is one final. To take on my due date. I'm hoping for a good story on this one.

Today is our first snow. It's not sticking to the streets but powdering the ground. Danyo thinks because the snow is here, we can open "prezzies". Have I mentioned his tendency to "babify" pretty much any word he says? It's really funny and J imitates it regularly. I love it. Recently he has become obsessed with Beyblades (in a normal, 4-year-old obsessed kind of way, nothing like what Bo manages to do with a topic of his choice). On the cartoon, there is a character named "Jenga" and another little character (I've never watched the show, just hear it in the background) calls him "Jengy". Which is exactly what Danyo does with just about every noun he can think of. However, whenever this character says "Jengy" Danyo yells loudly at the TV, "HIS NAME IS JENGA, NOT JENGY!" His yelling is mean and loud, and it makes me laugh every time he does it. He's a hypocrite!

Lately Bo has been making similar complaints about school that he made in Kindergarten. If I could have done Kindergarten over again, I would have pulled him out and "home schooled" or found some other alternative. Full day was WAY too long for him, and he was not being taught anything at all. I didn't know this until after the fact though. His complaints were about being tired, or he was wetting his pants, or he talked about school being "too long". He actually learned to write incorrectly while in Kindergarten. You should see the crazy strokes that boy makes to form an "h" or an "a". It defies logic! Anyway, he's been complaining again, very similar complaints. It's hard for me to determine if he's just ready for a break, or if there are similar problems and I need to get proactive. His teacher works hard to keep him stimulated, but she has at least 4 "high need" kids in her class, that I'm aware of, and I just don't know how one person can do it all in a setting like that.

I don't really know what the answer is, but I don't want his little spirit getting squashed again because I'm not clued in or don't know what I'm doing.

I'm so glad I got to grow up and worry about crap like this. We really should have been warned about adulthood. :)

Danyo just told me I'm awesome, but he's awesomer. His logic worked like this: There's snow outside, time to open presents, mom clearly doesn't make this obvious connection even though I deliberately pointed out the stuff falling onto the ground, I can't call her a bad name because I'm trying to earn a Beyblade, I'm awesomer.

He's been earning 3 X's a day in an effort to earn a new Beyblade. I realized that it's time to get a little more proactive about his short-temper and mean mouth. He's been working really hard. First thing he said to me this morning was, "I'm probably not going to get all my X's today because I'm going to say the word poopy. Poopy!" I let "poopy" run it's course with Bo and Avee. It's not even one of the words Danyo says that I object to. My kids love that word. Avee stretched it out over about 2 years. She still loves that word and hides herself in the bathroom to say it with wild abandon. Weirdo. Anyway, Danyo's trick is brilliant. He absolutely has to say some words---the day cannot pass without him saying them. So, he's socialized himself and says, "Oh man Mom, I almost said butt cheek just now. Good sing I didn't, huh?" He knows what he's doing, he ain't no fool.

If I had a quarter for every time he did that, combined with every time I've caught him going commando, I'd be a rich woman. F'real.

Bo said something last week that has made me chuckle through out the week. He was watching a documentary on Pearl Harbor. He's been interested in military/war/soldiers/etc for some time now. I sat down for a minute to watch it with him and he casually stated: "They should make bumper stickers for the old people that says, 'I dropped the bomb on Pearl Harbor'."

I couldn't stop laughing. Methinks he may have missed a point or two. Of course, I was a good mom and explained why perhaps that might not be the best idea.

Uh-oh, I'm running out of fodder. That means I have to get back to work! So sad...

I doubt very many people read this with any regularity anymore, but if you read this in the next week, give me your two cents on the Bo/School issue and throw in a name guess/suggestion just for fun. We don't have a name picked, but we have lots of ideas. By the way, it is a girl. :)

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T10:03:00.005-06:00

My kids love the song "Tonight Tonight" by Hot Chelle Ray. This summer when we were in Utah visiting my friend Jen, she cranked it up one day and everyone danced around the house wildly. Except me. Mama don't dance. Anyway. Bo, who started piano lessons a couple of months ago, has been trying to figure out the tune to this song on the piano. He's got the "tonight, tonight" part and Avee had almost nailed the "Whoa, oh-oh, whoa-oh-oh" part. J was helping them and asked me to put the song on so he could prove he was right and they were wrong. Bo heard the line, "it kinda looks just like you, mixed with Zach Galifianakis" and wanted to know what a Zachgalifianakis was. So, I googled his name to show his picture and it took me to his website. Where there was a nice nude sketching of "him".

J laughed out loud at my fumble and I quickly closed the page. Thank you Zach G. Now my 8 year old knows what you and your sketched junk look like.

Today is Thanksgiving morning. This is my favorite holiday of all. I love that it is simply about having gratitude. I love spending it with family and friends. I love how the weather is cold, but not unbearable yet. I love the bare trees and the ground covered in dead, crunchy, leaves, but some still colorful. I like turkey okay, but I love the tradition of having turkey. J learned to brine turkey a few years ago and we'll never go back. It's amazing.

This morning Avee asked where the turkeys were and I pointed out to a Rubbermaid on the back deck, where they were brining, peacefully. She exclaimed, "What!? They are out there in the cold!? Naked...and...dead? Oh never mind, they're dead."

I can remember when Bo was like 3-4 I just really didn't want him to know that the fish we ate at dinner was a close relative of the fish he loved seeing in the aquarium. Or that the nuggets he ate at McDonald's came from some part of the chicken he loved to sing about at O' Macdonohd's Fahm. Now, Avee's connection of the two things, a real turkey and the plucked, dead thing on our counter cracks me up. I've advanced quite a bit in this motherhood gig.

I am thankful for so many things every day. Here are some of them for today:
*My own good health and a healthy, active, baby growing inside me.
*The chance to watch my children learn and grow and experience life with them.
*Family that I can take or leave most days, but always have, so I take--and I love.
*A sister who can say one word or one phrase that can send us both into laughing hysterics. Or a raging vent. Someone who I don't have to explain any background to.
*A husband who does so much to make my life easier and better. Every day.
*The opportunity to be in Graduate School and the difference it is already making in me.
*Our home.
*Good friends who support me, make me feel loved, laugh with me, set me straight, and sing on my answering machine.
*My bed. I love my bed so much.
*Clean, folded, and put away laundry.
* My mom. She's awesome.

Yesterday Bo said to me out of nowhere, "Mom, you always laugh. I always see you laughing, I've never seen you cry. Well, except that one time. But you always laugh." I told him he was my favorite kid for the next 20 minutes so to go make the most of it. It did my heart good to hear him say that. It's okay to cry. I do. I definitely hide it from my kids because they don't need to be burdened with some of that stuff. But I'm glad they are growing up with a mom that laughs a lot. It helps that they give me a lot of reasons to laugh. I hope they grow up and laugh a lot too.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Because I Don't Have Class This Week

2011-11-21T12:51:00.004-06:00

Yesterday at church Danyo kept trying to ~~maul~~ crawl all over me almost the entire hour and I just kept repeatedly pushing him away. I've just gotten to the point in pregnancy where I can't take it, even for a minute. After about the 23rd time, he just kind of whined pathetically in protest. I whispered, "I'm sorry, I just don't have enough room on my lap to hold you, it hurts for you to climb on me like this." J reached over and swept Danyo into his arms warmly, "I know buddy, I know exactly how you feel right now, I feel your pain." I elbowed J in the ribs. Hard. But it certainly made Danyo feel better.

I've been reviewing old posts working to compile my blog into a hard copy. Or rather, hard copies. Holy moly I was prolific, back in the day. Reading some of the stories has really done me some good. I'm realizing that Danyo isn't quite as crazy as I thought he was---Bo and Avee both had some similar behaviors that they obviously grew out of. Also, the kids LOVE hearing stories of things they did when they were younger. They particularly like the stories of Avee being a bossy know-it-all when she was two or three. I'm so glad I recorded this stuff!

One of the things I recorded a lot was how Bo said things, when he couldn't say his R's. I still miss that little speech impediment. It was particularly funny with him because, content-wise, he didn't talk like a normal 5 year old. But he couldn't say his R's and sometimes L's, so it was particularly funny to hear him talk that way about grown-up things. He said to me just the other day, "I think I might need to have my ears checked." (By the way, my overly-active hypochondria has not escaped my children---it's awesome---they are regularly reporting some major ailment---Avee is practically blind and probably anemic...)

I asked Bo why he thought his ears were bad. He answered, "Because all those years I thought I was saying my R's just like everyone else, but I wasn't. I really think my ears should have noticed that!" It is my duty as a loving mother, I told him it wasn't his ears that did things wrong, it was his brain, and perhaps we should have his brain checked. Just kidding. I didn't tell him that. He would have laughed though---that kid has a wicked sense of humor. It amazes me actually--how different he and Avee are on the teasing/sense of humor front. In fact, now that I think about it, I think Avee was meant to belong to my parents.

She has my dad's sense of humor. Which is to say, it's terrible. It's okay to not have a very good sense of humor. But it's terrible to not have a good sense of humor, and to think you do. My brothers can have everyone in stitches, recreating how terribly my dad tells jokes. That's how Avee's jokes go. She told a joke the other day that was actually more like a short story and the "punchline" was "Ha! I don't have a heart!" but it didn't make any sense. And if it did make sense, it certainly wasn't funny. J encouraged her to tell me, just so he could watch me not know when the punchline came. She delivered the punchline with gusto and I was sure there had to be more. J, behind Avee, nodded and mouthed, "That's the joke."

She also has my mom's love for makeup, pink and purple, and accessorizing. All of those things completely skipped me. I am frumpy, wear a lot of blue and black, and I'm really funny. That's why I'm certain Avee was meant to be my parent's child.

But oh how I'm glad she's mine. :)

Saturday I ran a few errands by myself in the afternoon. One of them was to get a simple trim and my hair thinned out. I have a massive head of hair, and with it long right now, it's kind of ridiculous if I don't keep it thinned. I went to Great Clips because I really think a trim and thin are pretty hard to mess up. I've been telling myself that lie for about 15 years now. My mom has said to me at least 5 times on the matter, "You get what you pay for, find someone good!" Every time I get a fouled up haircut, I resolve to never do it again. But the lack of planning and the $12.95 lure me back time and again. I watched as she butchered it and even I, who knows nothing of haircutting, knew she was doing a horrible job as she did it. Not even the worst of it, she cut my bangs like a half an inch above my eyebrows, when they were wet. I looked ridiculous when I left. Whatever though, I'm confident, I can pull it off.

I stepped outside the Great Clips and rushed to my car. I didn't have the remote access keychain, so I was in the drizzling rain with my Dumb and Dumber haircut, trying to manually unlock the car. It didn't really work so I just pulled on the handle in hopes that I had forgotten to lock it. I had! I jumped inside and reached to put my key in the ignition. I looked down and something seemed awry. I suddenly realized someone had broken into my car and stolen all the trash, McDonald's toys, empty water bottles, broken car chargers, expired insurance cards, and my cheap makeup bag that were piled into the console area. I was shocked! Then I noticed that they had taken all that, cleaned out the crumbs and spilled coke stickies and replaced it all with a pair of men's glasses.

Then I thought there was a chance I was in the wrong car. I looked out the window, over to my left and saw my green makeup bag perched on top of a loaf of Jimmy John's day old bread, next to 2 and a half Puss-in-Boots figurines, in the console of the car next to me.

I burst out laughing and quickly scrambled out of not-my-car. I stumbled onto the sidewalk to take a look to see if they were even the same KIND of car or if I had just blindly walked toward the first red thing I'd seen. They were the exact same car. Probably even the same year. I turned to a couple hovering under an awning and laughing loudly, exclaimed, "I just got into the wrong car! Look, they are exactly the same. On the outside." Then I took my awesome haircutted self and got into my own car.

I also scored three baskets from Michael's for 1 penny each. Not even lying. I spent 35 minutes in the basket aisle which was totally disorganized and over-run with baskets. I had dreams of having good taste and picking something that would magically transform the baby's room into a darling nursery. Um, except that it's painted a putrid tan color AND houses the washer and dryer. I am not painting the room and the washer and dryer have nowhere else to go. So, why am I trying to find the perfect cute basket? I don't know. I finally settled for three that I liked and have absolutely no way of matching anything I already have in there. So, in the end, I stayed true to myself.

When the girl rang me up it was a good $30 less than I anticipated and I said, "Um, that's too low..." and she said, "Oops, I forgot to ring up this big basket!" So, I waited for her to ring it up and we both stared incredulously as it rang up for 1 cent. She said, "Oh, I guess I did ring it up, it's only one penny though." So I made sure she took off the 4th penny so I wasn't overpaying for those baskets.

Paying 3 pennies for those baskets felt like winning the lottery.

Now all I have left to get for my baby is clothes to bring her home from the hospital. Well, and clothes to wear when she gets here. But other than that, I'm TOTALLY prepared. Oh, minus a name. Don't have that either. We'll manage.

For Kim

2011-11-16T23:14:00.001-06:00

I am the leaver, not the left behind. This is not fun.

You were one of the first people I met at church. You and Becky were sitting on the couch and started asking me about our move here. I remember telling you the route we took to church and one of you joked "Well that was real direct". I thought you both were big jerks and I knew for certain I would never like either of you, ever. Little did I know...

I remember one really cold winter morning (our first one here, after moving from Texas was one of the worst Iowa had had in a long time---J and I were in shock) I hauled the kids to story time at the elementary school. I didn't know you very well. You came in a little late, you looked so cute with all your winter accessories, but you were snarling. You stepped over people and growled, "I hate winter!" You weren't even remotely trying to be funny. You were angry. I remember laughing out loud at how totally serious you were.

A few months after we moved here I had to go to your house for a meeting. You had recently found out I had a blog and whipped out a pen, asking me for the blog address. I didn't want to give it to you. I didn't want you to know that I sometimes said damn and hell. Or that I made fun of people. Or that I confessed to sometimes not liking my children, or being a slob. I needed those secrets to stay safe on the world wide web. You got it out of me though, as persistent as I may have been, you were more so.

That was the real beginning. You've always made me feel so good about my blogging "efforts", my biggest fan. :)

Girl's night out, sushi, late Tuesday night movies, The Good Wife, play dates, church callings....

I've always been impressed with how well you do everything that you do. You aren't perfect and you can't do everything---but what you do, you do well.

I've loved watching your children grow up and enjoying their very "energetic" personalities. The first time I interacted with Ella she asked me where I lived, how I got here, and if that baby I was holding was mine. Then she asked me if he came out of my stomach, how he got there in the first place, and if there was another one in there right now. She was barely 3. Little Ella, how I've loved conversations with her. I will miss being asked how big my baby is "today". Even if she just asked 4 hours before...

You introduced us to Wicked. Man I love that music. I remember confidently telling you I had figured the story out and you shouldn't have made me listen to it before I saw the show, because now it was ruined for me. You smiled and said, "Things aren't always as they seem Nobody..." I can still listen to that soundtrack for hours on end and I have so many great memories of riding around with your kids in the back of my car, belting out "Popular". We only stopped because my CD wore out---not us!

You've made me mad. You know when you have, too. But you are like a drug and I just cain't quit you. It's how I know I love you---even when I've gotten mad at you, I know I'll forgive you and that your friendship is one I cherish. I've made you mad. Only, I just had to be smart to figure it out. I've never seen anyone do more gymnastics to avoid conflict or saying no. I've watched you get better about saying no---but it's a good thing I'm a nice girl or I could ride that push-over train of yours all the way to Hawaii!! You have a kind and compassionate heart, and the word "no" is impossible for you to say.

Your love for Starbucks is contagious. I remember almost being angry at you when you introduced me to the salted caramel hot chocolate. I couldn't afford that kind of an addiction, and that's all I could see it becoming!

I feel like I could write for days and days---we've had so many great memories, so many great conversations, so many good laughs in the last 4 years. I am so grateful that you have been a part of our Iowa experience. I bet you're glad I was a part of yours. :)

I know you are leaving a trail of broken hearts, here in Iowa. You have so many friends and have the unique ability of making each of us feel like the most important one in your life.

Texas is awesome and you will be just as in love with your life there, as you have been here. You are good at blooming where you are planted. Personally, I think blooming in a warmer climate just has to be more fun.

Thanks for making me laugh out loud, calling me out on my bullcrap ("Of course we'll come visit you soon in Texas, Sydney!" "Don't listen to that Sydney, they left Texas 4 years ago and haven't been back since!"), having such great kids that are so fun for my kids to play with, being a good example of hard work and always trying to improve yourself, sushi dates, pinch-hitting with childcare, and all in all being someone who has made our lives here in Iowa so much better.

We will miss you desperately. I will. J might.

Love you bigger'n Texas.

We Shouldn't Say Stoopid Anyway

2011-11-08T07:20:00.013-06:00

It's 7:18 am. Bo is playing on the computer using the new cheats for Rise of Nations that J taught him. Avee is sprawled on the floor cutting out the last of 21 paper ghosts that she's made for each of her classmates. Danyo is next to her asking for a goldfish or a superhero ghost for himself. I'm awake and not bitter about it. Aside from having left my car window down and it raining through the night, it's going to be a good day.

Yesterday Bo stayed home from school. He complained the night before that his stomach hurt and that he had diarrhea. He didn't, but--whatever. He came to my room at 6 am and said he still didn't feel good. I told him he could stay home, to go back to bed. I pretty much knew that he could have gone to school and would have been fine, but I guess I just didn't care enough. J got it in his head that if Bo was going to stay home "sick" then he needed to act sick, and not get to run around outside or watch tv all day, etc. I watched J feel like that's how it should be done, but not be really convinced it was necessary. Welcome to my world, man.

As a result, instead of playing games on the computer or watching tv, he "studied science". I stayed in bed until even my very scant pride wouldn't allow me to stay. He'd come up periodically and spout facts about the moon or how much smarter he is than his "nemesis" (another post in and of itself, the other smart boy in the class...). During one of those visits I asked him why he had stayed home from school. He said, "I have that croupy cough and diarrhea." I've kept Avee home with a croupy cough, even though she isn't sick, she sounds terrible. He knew that with that diagnosis he could get away with not really being sick. I hid my smile from his pathetic attempt to be wily like his sister.

Later we were in the car driving and I asked him again why he'd chosen to stay home from school and noted that I could tell he wasn't really sick. He claimed diarrhea again and stated that he just "felt bad". When I asked him how many times he'd gone to the bathroom he smiled sheepishly for a moment, recovered, then said, "Well, it comes and goes..." I'm a little concerned about what the real issue is, I don't think it's major, but I do think 3rd grade is a little early to be trying to skip school already.

Around 2 o'clock he noted the time and said, "If I was in school right now, I'd be so miserable." I jumped on it and asked why. He caught himself and said, "Mostly because I just feel so bad." He was whaling on a sandwich when he said this so I told him to tell me more about what that meant. He explained in all seriousness that he meant he felt like he'd just gotten back from a 6 month trip to the moon and his bone density had decreased and his muscle tone was only at about 65%, so he just felt floppy and bad.

I figure his powers of manipulation are lacking, but his internal drive for knowledge is enough and he could miss a day of school.

The other day I bought Avee a little toy snake that I had promised her over the Halloween weekend. I made the mistake of giving it to her in front Danyo who then spent the next 20 minutes crying and complaining and trying to steal it from her. I was annoyed with my own stupidity in doing this, but his crying also was more than I could tolerate that afternoon. Finally I said, "If you cry again about that stupid snake, you are going to your room. I'm tired of hearing it." Of course Danyo was offended by the threat, but Avee was REALLY offended that I called her snake stupid. She objected and instead of being the mature adult in the situation, I was like a bratty 5 year old. I told her it didn't matter if I thought it was stupid and I did think it was a stupid thing for Danyo to keep crying about. Apparently it really bothered Avee and she spent the next 30-40 minutes laying on the floor, writing on a piece of paper, intermittent with hiding it and glaring at me every time I walked by.

As I was making dinner, she brought me the note. I love it for a dozen different reasons.

I'm bummed though. There was a post-it note p.s. that I can't find anywhere. It read: "p.s. I love you and my snake." The word snake wasn't written, just a drawing of the snake. It is very classic "sweet" Avee, firmly putting me in my place. I love, love, LOVE that she took the time to handle my bad behavior so maturely.

She just successfully made herself french toast with minimal assistance. When I praised her for doing so well she exclaimed, "Have you ever seen a kid my age cook this good?! Well, at least a kid my size!?" I guess three years of being the smallest kid in her class she's finally figured out she's small for her age.

And just so Danyo gets some airtime....
He just asked me if I thought the blood on his owie looked like rootbeer. Nasty.

My Little Black Bo

2011-11-02T19:15:00.007-05:00

Sometimes I miss the days when I used to sit down and write meaningful blog posts about my thoughts and musings and deeper issues. Sometimes I read those posts and that person feels so far away. J was traveling all the time, I had two babies at home and a couple of close friends where I lived. I was probably lonely and feeling so isolated a lot of the time. I don't remember feeling that way a lot, but looking back--I HAD to be. :) Now I have 3 kids going in 3 different directions, a house, a husband, a grad program, a great social group, etc, etc, etc.... My brain cells are depleted and I have nothing to offer the internets. I miss the pontificating me--sometimes.

I went on a date with Bo last week. He is a busy little fellow and he's been working hard at all of it. I believe pretty strongly in not over-scheduling kids, so I really only signed him up for one extra-curricular activity---piano lessons. In my opinion, that's a necessary. But then a science club opportunity came up after school once a week, and he looooooooves science--so I let him join. Then a chorus opportunity came up and he's got a good little voice, so I thought it would be good to get him involved, once a week. Then there's scout's twice a month. Somehow, he became mildly over-scheduled. He really enjoys all of it and seems to be managing it all just fine.

About 4 or 5 weeks ago something just clicked in him. He went from completely oblivious every day that he had to put shoes on, actually eat the food in front of him, take his backpack with stuff in it to school---every single day. Avee walked out of the womb dressing herself and straightening every body else's hair for school--so the contrast was especially frustrating to me on school mornings. "Bo, shoes. Shoes, Bo...SHOES!!!" Every. Single. Day.

One morning he got up, got dressed, entirely, made himself breakfast, put on his backpack, and sat at the computer to play while he waited for it to be time to leave. I remember praising his self-sufficiency, but it really wasn't over the top praise or more than a comment. I don't know if that did it or what, but the next night he laid everything out for himself to be ready to go quickly. Of course I took pictures.

J had to convince him to put the bagel in a bag for overnight. I put his Spark in a sippy cup the first time I made it because we were running late and I could shake it easily and he could drink it in the car without spilling. It is now referred to as his "Spark cup".

Anyway--our date. I had a great time with him. He talks a lot at home, but he has a lot of competition with everyone else and my love of silence. He loved having no one to compete with while he spoke. He was super polite to the waitress and had a confidence about him that I hadn't been able to observe before. I loved seeing it. We went to the thrift store to get some stuff for his Halloween costume and then to dinner.

Conversation with Bo is like a roller coaster. You really never know what you are going to get most of the time. There are several constants, but actual subject matter is so unpredictable at times. He always wants to know what "the most" is of something. To the point that it's annoying for me. What was the worst recession. What was worse, the Great Depression, or the recession we're in now. Who is the world's fastest reader and how many wpm can he read. What is the tv show with the most episodes and when did it air, etc, etc, etc. We rarely know the answer and we've even gotten over helping him find out. It's nonstop.

On the way home he was sort of musing and said, "Wouldn't it be crazy if every little thing that ever happened on the earth was documented?" I asked what he meant. He said, "You know, like if a leaf fell, it would be like, 'On April 30th 1237 AD a leaf fell on the northwest corner of...' you know---wouldn't that be crazy?!"

Yes, yes it would. I said, "Well, God knows all that stuff. That's why the scriptures say He knows the sparrows in the trees and every hair on our head. Can you imagine knowing everything like that?" Bo responded, "Well then I guess He knows how to manage an economic crisis then, huh!?" I told J he needs to ease up on the political talk because kids like Bo don't just let it go in one ear and out the other--like adults like me. It does make for funny conversations though.

Then he told me that Abraham Lincoln dreamt he was going to die before he died, so he knew. He overheard someone saying that. Then he kind of sighed and said with conviction and appreciation, "I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for Abraham Lincoln."

I asked him how he figured that. That was of course, after I took a good 45 seconds to get my bearings after hearing my very white 8 year old boy tell me this in the year 2011. He told me about how Abraham Lincoln opposed slaver, so he worked to free the slaves. I said, "You do know you are white, right?" Well yeah, of course he did---but what did that have to do with slaves being freed? Somehow, he hadn't ever realized that it was only black people that were slaves. He never considered that it was a race thing, and he figured if there were people oppressed and a hero that saved them, he was somehow in on that. I loved that. I love that boy.

Okay, it's bedtime. For me. I s'pose the kids will go sooner or later...

I'm More Awesomer

2011-10-25T11:06:00.005-05:00

Last night I was in bed thinking of all the things I needed to be documenting in this here blog of mine. Then morning hit and my house was still a mess so I had to prioritize. Here I am!!

Danyo learned to ride his bike without training wheels last week. Last year he was able to ride it, sort of going down a slight incline, on grass. But real riding it and starting off on his own didn't hit until last week. I had been going out onto our block with him and helping him go up and down the sidewalk. My running after his tiny little bike, 7 months pregnant, was not pretty---or easy. I had finally decided I wasn't the best candidate for the job anymore and he just went outside and took off by himself. I can't get enough of watching him, he's so little! The day he went outside and took off was Sunday and he had on a sweater vest and a tie. It was ridiculous how cute it was.
Yesterday was one of the first really nice days since he learned to ride, so I told him he could ride his bike home from preschool. It's about 3 blocks away. I had every intention of walking alongside him or following from a slight distance. But the 3 hours between when I made the promise and the reality of it happening occured, I had a reality check. I saw him barrelling down the sidewalk, flying past stop signs into the street, right into the line of oncoming traffic. And me, half a block back, lying on the sidewalk, seized up in pain from a leg cramp. Or butt cramp, if I'm being totally honest. My little 4 year old would die in the streets alone, with me 80 yards away, because I don't have enough potassium in my diet.

So, J walked home with him riding his bike.

This is a nice story and all, but not even the point. J tells me last night as he's running alongside Little Buddy, comforting him when he nails the asphalt with his face, encouraging him and telling him what a great bike rider he is the whole way---Danyo is spending the time telling J how awesome I am and how much more he likes me than J.

This is very funny to us. Jay does about 80% of the care giving these days. He's so much more patient and fun than I am. He roasts hotdogs for dinner for them, takes them on bike rides, shows them hilarious youtube videos, watches Avee's "shows" that could cause brain atrophy if exposure is prolonged, listen to and answer Bo's endless questions about things like, "Which was the worst recession in history" and "Do you know Jimmy Carter's middle name?" and "which is faster, a ______ or a ________". I tell him to shove off, I don't care. But J indulges. He makes them dinner 95% of the time, he taught them how to do more chores than the average 8 and 6 year old do, and they love doing them, he reads to them all.the.time. He plays in their self-directed games of "doctor" where Avee always has some malingering issue that needs an ace bandage and Bo always diagnoses strange things like, "Diabetic seizure resulting in a fractured tibia"....

He is super dad. He really is. When Danyo climbs into our bed at 3 am and is all over me, I kick and shove him away and he comes back for more. J opens his arms and says, "come here Danyo, I'll snuggle you" and Danyo will harumph and suffer in silence at having no one to snuggle him. That he wants to snuggle.

When Danyo is whistling from the bathroom, his signal for me to come wipe him, J will kindly go do it so I don't have to be bothered. Danyo yells at him for coming when he was clearly whistling for me.

Sometimes people feel badly that their kid "loves" another parent more. For us, it's a competition to get the kid to like the other parent more, so we can do less. It doesn't really work out for J on this one though because I'm not here as much, but it does make life entertaining when J's chugging down the street alongside a four year old out of pure selflessness, hearing about how much more awesome I am.

Another terribly cute thing Danyo does that needs documenting, is saying the word, "benext". However he came to the conclusion that was a word, I'm not sure. But we love it. "You know, the park benext to my school?" I hope it lasts for a long time. He also tends to "babify" words. "I want some juicey" or "can I have chickie nuggies?" He doesn't baby talk when he says these words (I loathe baby talk), but he can and will babify most words. I love it when J imitates it. That's particularly funny.

Aw man, I had more to say. But probably if I keep writing I'll get a comment from my friend Amy about my posts being too long. Plus, it's time to take Danyo to school.

Conversation And A Commercial

2011-09-23T08:59:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, Avee's homework was to read me a book about occupations. One page of the book had pictures of several people and several occupations. I asked her which one she wanted to be. She stared at the page for some time, Dentist, Doctor, Architect, Teacher, Pilot... I knew the answer. She's wanted to be a teacher since shortly after starting Kindergarten and falling in love with her amazing teacher. As well as the idea of being the boss of a lot of people.

Finally she answered, "Teacher! I'm going to be a teacher. Except not for the end of the day, I'm just going to get someone else to do that part, it's boring and I don't like it. AND, I'll need to leave to go pick up my own kids from school, so I can take them home and help them with their homework and make their dinner."

I kind of looked at her quizzically because she certainly doesn't have that example in our home. Not only do I not work full-time, I also rarely make dinner.

She picked up on my look pretty quickly and continued matter-of-factly, "Well I won't have a husband, I will have to take care of the kids by myself."

Another puzzled look from me.

"Well, I will used to have a husband, but not anymore. I will just decide to not be married to him anymore. Probably because he was stupid or something."

I was stunned. That is the second time this child has completely shocked me in less than a week. I had just talked to her about divorce for the first time two weeks ago, when I explained to her why our friend already had big kids but was getting married. I was certain the repercussions of that conversation would be her worrying that someday J and I would divorce, or the normal fears, that we could possibly one day stop loving her. That's the crap they teach you in books. I certainly didn't anticipate her plotting her future divorce as a result.

So um, yeah. I guess I better let her fiance know when the time comes, he's just a trial run.

Nextly.

About a month ago I was griping about Bo's inability to stay on task and or focus on even the smallest command. I could give a million examples. This morning, I said, "Unlock the car for the kids" as he was standing right next to the car keys. He grabbed his backpack and walked out the door with no shoes on. He heard, "Get in the car." This kind of thing happens a dozen or more times a day. It is really annoying to me most of the time. Sometimes, it's just downright funny. Last year he had a pretty "loose structure" teacher and I saw a lot of kids in the class acting that way, so I totally assumed it was a learned behavior that would self correct with more structure once he was out of that class, and especially once he was in with a new teacher. But it has persisted, and with it, he has become more adamant that we're wrong and he's heard things correctly.

His teacher was sending home little notes saying he was playing with pencils or she kept having to repeat instructions just for him, etc. I thought these complaints were petty, but I also know that it's not fair for her to have to say things twice to a smart kid who should be listening.

The friend I was talking to sells Advocare and she suggested I try him on the energy drink called Spark. She said people used it to replace ADD medication, it was that effective, and said her girls had some every morning. I had a sample packet she had given me months before so I decided to just experiment.

I emailed his teacher and said I was going to experiment with a supplement and asked if she would watch his behavior more closely the next couple of days, and then I'd start the Spark the following week, and I'd like her to watch him closely then too.

She wrote back at the end of it that there was marked improvement, no issues on the days he had the drink. I figured that was enough to warrant putting him on it. So I got the big canister of it and he has half a serving every day. J took him to school yesterday (20 minutes early) and he didn't give him the drink. There was a note in the planner saying he'd been off, playing with pencils, not focusing. It amazes me.

He's been taking it for a couple of weeks now. There was another day I had forgotten to give it to him and the teacher just randomly sent an email the other day that said, "There has been some great improvement in his behavior, he's just had one off day in the last couple of weeks."

Consistently he has "off days" when we forget to give it to him. I am amazed. I'm also so happy to have found something that helps him. I thought I'd just put this out there (to all 5 of the people who read this blog, that I've probably already told this to in real life) in case anyone else could use this information. I found out this week that there's caffeine in the product. Yeah, I probably wouldn't have purchased it if I had known because I am pretty strict about that with my kids. However, the results speak for themselves, so I'm sticking with it.

That's pretty much all I have to say about that.

Ice Cream Trucks

2011-09-18T10:40:00.005-05:00

Yesterday the kids had friends over, so combined with my three kids, there were 7 kids total running around. Unbeknownst to us, the ice cream truck came cruising by. We have a very hard and fast rule of not buying from the ice cream truck. We've explained multiple times that it is too much money and not a safe practice in general. With a lot of battles and tears and repetition, Bo finally gets it. He says with some derision every time the subject comes up, "It's a rip off." And we are proud.

But Avee is my child. There is friendly music, portable popsicles, and money doing absolutely nothing, upstairs in her drawer. While the grown-ups were chatting, our friend spotted her sneaking off with my wallet. Because we couldn't hear the ice cream truck, we had no idea what she was up to--so I just halfheartedly got my wallet back from her and didn't think much of it. She sneaked upstairs and then back past us (I never saw her) and went outside with 6 other kids following, and bought ice cream from the ice cream truck. She came back into the house proudly displaying the popsicle.

I was genuinely shocked. I didn't know that's what her end game was, I couldn't believe she so deliberately disobeyed, and that she did it so "quietly". When she said she spent four dollars on the popsicle I almost fell over. I made her put it in the freezer (there were kids following her around, salivating) and told her she wouldn't be eating that popsicle. It soon after came out that she had actually gotten TWO popsciles for four dollars, and one of them was for Danyo. That tenderness she innately has for Danyo gets me every time.

This morning the kids wanted popsicles, and having forgotten about the naughtily-gotten gains from last night, I said yes. They came traipsing in with their $2 popsicles.

Last night I had thought about how to best handle the situation and didn't feel like any solution I came up with was appropriate. Either too harsh or too lenient. Ultimately, I felt like she needed to know WHY she couldn't do this, more than she needed to be punished for doing it; but I was coming up with nothing.

So I deferred to J. As they stood there with popsicles in hand, I asked J what he thought should be done. He answered quickly, "She can have the popsicle if she explains to me the mathematical logic of why we don't buy from the ice cream truck." He grabbed a piece of paper and sat on the couch with her, drawing out the difference in buying two for $4 from the truck, and buying a whole box for less than that at Wal-merts.

I sat there feeling proud in who I chose to marry. He's a smart guy. Avee and Bo got all in to it and Avee drew the ice cream truck and Wal-merts for the diagram.

The message was sent. We talked about the safety end of it, and how there are almost always popsicles in our freezer, etc, etc.

While J and I are sitting there reveling in the successful teaching moment, Avee sat and graffiti-ed the teaching tool.

Script

2011-09-17T14:12:00.004-05:00

I just found this script of a play J and the kids wrote for Mother's Day. Mom was played by Avee.

Bo: Hey Mom, what are you playing?
Mom: Pac-Man
Bo: Can we have some ice cream?
Mom: Not until you eat the breakfast I made for you.
Bo: Oh! I forgot to do my homework!
Mom: Here, let me help you do it.
Bo: Thanks Mom.
Mom: You are welcome, let's go to school.
Danyo: Mom, I want to watch Nanny McPhee!
Mom: Okay, here you go.
______________________________________

Bo: Thanks for picking me up from school. What's for dinner?
Danyo: Mac 'n cheese with no green peas, just carrots.
Mom: How about Chinese Buffet? Then a movie?
Bo: Yes!
Mom: Okay, it's bed time.
Bo: Will you snuggle me?
Mom: Of course!

This was pretty entertaining to watch. I found a list that J clearly had the kids brainstorm of the things I do for them, in order to write this play. I'm so glad that playing Pac-Man, eating out, and excessive movie watching made it in the short script.

Clearly it would have been more flattering and fraught with all the wonderful things I do for them---but I was busy eating my leftover Chinese food and playing Pac-Man.

It's Because I Don't Want To Hear Your Voice

2011-09-16T09:54:00.002-05:00

This morning over breakfast Danyo kept making a loud, annoying screeching sound. When I asked him stop, he told me it was because he didn't want to hear my voice.

He didn't want blueberry pancakes because blueberries are ugly and shouldn't be in pancakes.

He cried /whine/accused for about 7 minutes this morning that his birthday was taking too long to get here. It's in June. What is it about the 4th year that make children obsess over their birthday until they are 5?

He swore at the wii remote. Well, the only way he knows how to swear.

He threatened to smash a roll of tape against the wall for getting in his way when he was running. He informed me of his intentions through gritted teeth.

I think to myself on mornings like this, "Surely there is something I could diagnose him with, this boy is crazy!" That's my psychology brain in over-drive. It can't possibly be because I'm feeding him breakfast at 10 am, 2 hours after he woke up. Or that he's in desperate need of one on one attention from me. Nope, that's not it.

I yelled at Bo this morning for dumping out half a cup of bottled water. He claimed he heard me say "dump it". The sad thing is, I'm sure he did hear that. He hears/doesn't hear all kinds of things that justify his behavior. But really? I yelled at an 8 year old over half a cup of bottled water? Who does that!? Even in the moment I saw his little face crumble a little and I wanted to stop, and just didn't. Grrrrrrr. Maybe Danyo's not that crazy after all...

I dreamt last night that I wet the bed. I, mid-thirties Nobody, wet my bed. I realized (in my dream) that I had done it and I was mortified and quickly trying to figure out how to handle it without J knowing. That kind of makes me laugh now. In my dream, when I woke up to deal with the situation, Bo was standing in my room with his arms open wide asking for a hug. It was the middle of the night in my dream. There were mattresses all over my bedroom and I was trying to arrange them so we could still maneuver around the room. When I went downstairs my house was all torn up, like it was under reconstruction. The floors were cement the walls were half up, and suddenly J and I were trying to decide on flooring options.

I don't really know what this dream means or where it came from---but I'm pretty clear that it indicates how crazy my life feels right now. I hate not dreaming about butterflies and doughnuts though.

I have a presentation due next week that I should have been done and well prepared for nearly a week ago. I canNOT stay on task or focus enough to get anything done. I hope this isn't an indication of how this semester is going to go for me. It's kind of ridiculous.

My house is a sty.

I fell asleep in class yesterday. Only, because of my belly, I can't really lay my head down, so it was a head in the hands, slobber, nod, jerk-awake, doze, slobber, jerk-awake kind of sleeping in class. The kind no one notices and is easy to pull off. Mmm hmmmm.

Some days are just like that. Even in Australia.

Avee The Novelist

2011-09-07T10:52:00.005-05:00

We were in Missouri visiting family and Avee decided to write a book. I don't know which came first, the finding of a mini-stapler, or the idea to write, but the two combined put her on task for nearly an hour.

A few minutes into settling down at the table with her stack of papers she said loudly across the room to me, "Is as$ a bad word, or does as$ really mean donkey, mom?" Only slightly suprised she knew that word, I answered nonchalantly that it it did in fact mean donkey. I glanced at Bo who was sitting halfway between the two of us, desperately trying to control his giggle. Avee has developed a somewhat loud and busy-bodyish voice of late, so it was pretty funny to hear her throwing around a bad word loudly and with her six-year-old authority. Bo informed her that the word was in the bible, so yes--it did mean donkey.

So, she said "as$" about 4 more times and determined that it was going to go in her "A Book".

I of course, secretly delighted in this. I pictured putting the book away for a decade and then showing Avee what kind of shenanigans she was up to as a First Grader. Even if it was a little...guided.

She worked diligently for quite some time, stopping only once to have me explain to her what an angle was. When she was finished, she brought me the book, along with her pink crayon, and asked me to add a couple of things for her.

I present, Avee's A Book:

"A is for angl, 90 Dgree"

And then the back cover. Where she shows with complete clarity her perpetual ability to always stay one step ahead of me; and buy a little insurance with my handwriting.

Rambling

2011-08-25T08:28:00.002-05:00

Well, we're sort of in our groove now with a schedule. Sort of. Jay starts classes next week so that will change some things. Like my ability to boss him around whenever I want. Now I'll have to wait for him to get home sometimes. My life is hard.

The school the kids are in seem to be a good fit. Avee came home with a note from her teacher the other day---basically just praising her for being caught paying attention. Wow. That same day, Bo's teacher wrote a note in his book that he needed to work on paying attention more. I felt the boy's pain. I spent a good majority of 2nd and 3rd grade daydreaming.

Speaking of daydreaming...I started my classes this week, and today is my 3rd class. I totally got busted zoning out in my first class. One whole wall is windows, people were letting out of class, I couldn't help it. Only, I was sitting in the front of the class and the teacher suddenly says, "You okay Nobody, you suddenly look confused by what I'm saying..." I was terribly embarrassed for a couple of reasons. I had been caught daydreaming, in grad school---AND, my daydreaming expression is one of confusion!!! All these years...

I had no choice but to confess to my adult ADD. One of my friends in the back was laughing hysterically at me. My professor was very kind, and allowed me to redeem myself a few minutes later. But still.

My first two classes seem to be really good and interesting, and I'm looking forward to them. Kind of. One is Group Therapy and we have to actually participate in 10 sessions of group therapy, facilitated by a counselor from the community. It feels a little nerve racking, but I'm pretty excited to learn the process and be a part of it. Since that's the main meat of the class, there is only one big project and two smaller writing assignments, so I'm excited that there's limited outside class work. The OTHER class is going to kick my hiney though. It's Intro to Counseling and basically these two classes are designed as filtering/weeding type classes, so if they thinks you ugly, they tells you. Or something like that. We have to video ourselves counseling other classmates and then watch them all together and get critiqued. Whaaaaa!?? Yeah well, better now than 10 years down the road, right?

Tonight's class is theories or something like that. I have aaaaaalllllways loved theory. Just ax my high school piano teacher.

Yesterday I was running errands with the kids after their dentist appointments. I love toodling around with Bo because he gets really chatty then. So he says to me, "There's another new kid in my class and he must have gone to a school that let him do anything when he was there. He talks without raising his hand, he gets out of his seat whenever he wants, he was totally laying on a row of chairs in the cafeteria because the ones around him were empty."

I was thinking, maybe he came from a much more lax school (Bo's last school was the opposite of lax in just about every way possible), or maybe he's just not very well-behaved in general. None of those "offenses" seemed like too big of a deal to me, and it was interesting to me that at 8, Bo was already noting them. He also wasn't blaming the kid, he was blaming the training, which I thought was funny. So I asked Bo, "What school did he go to before this one?" And Bo answered, "I don't know. I asked him, but his mouth was full of food when he answered and I just couldn't understand him." For some reason, that REALLY made me laugh. I think it might be more about the kid and less about what school he came from. I do love that Bo was simply observing and not judging.

In fact, I've noticed him doing that a few times recently. In potentially confrontational situations, he kind of shrugs off the other person's behavior. One time was this summer at the pool. He was standing behind a Hispanic kid and in front of a Black kid. The Hispanic kid turned and gave the Black kid cuts in line for the slide, and said to Bo, "It's because we both have brown skin---you need to get a tan, you're too white." Now, this could totally have made him feel bad or ticked him off at the ridiculousness of it, but instead he related the story, totally laughing that they actually thought he could get brown like them. "I'm always going to be this white. Or red!"

Danyo started preschool as well. The first three days he was ridiculously late. As in, they had to come unlock the door for us to let him in, late. I realized just before the 4th day that preschool actually started 15 minutes earlier than I had thought. So, I made an extra effort on the 4th day to get him there early. I was a rockstar. Then, two and a half hours later J forgot to pick him up. My rockstar status was totally negated. I loved answering the phone and saying to his teacher on the 4th day of preschool, "Um yeah, we forgot, my husband is on his way right now." That was awesome. I was worried about Danyo being traumatized or whatever drama he felt like having that afternoon, but he just said to J, "Dad, you took foh-EVOH!" That was funny to us because he says the same thing about having to brush his teeth, put on pajamas, eat his food, "But it takes fo-o-o-o-o-ohEVOH!" This time he was actually right.

When we moved into our house, the main floor was painted somewhat modernly. The living room entry area was a chocolate brown and the dining area (it's one great area that's all open) was red. I kind of liked it. Then the brown started getting old to me. So J and I talked about painting over the brown, but never got around to it. But now, we've got some time, and he painted it all himself, including a coat of primer, in a day and a half. And the day he spent painting, I was at work so he managed that as well as the three kids. Totally impressive. Plus, he's a good painter. I am not. No matter how easy I think it is---I manage to make a huge mess of things.

So, now it's painted and has totally lightened the room and I love it. Only, it's had a strange side-effect. Every once in a while, for the last 6-8 months or so, I would smell cat pee. It was somewhat faint and often fleeting, but it was always in the same area. No one else could smell it though, so I just assumed it was my hyper-sensitive schnoz doing unnecessary overtime. Well, now I smell it when I walk in the door, and I want to throw up if I go anywhere near the offending area. And even J says he's smelled it. Not like me, but still. And it's all been since he's painted. Which is just weird to me.

So then I got on a "let's pull up the carpet" kick. And we went to look at laminate and realized it was a $1200 project, which we didn't have to spend, after spending an hour looking at it. We're totally responsible like that. Then our friend mentioned he thought that the original hardwood floors would still be there and might be worth the look. So we looked. We (J) tore up a little 10 square feet area which took us (J) like two hours---it was ridiculously difficult. And it's ugly. The boards are long and skinny. So now we're back to laminate when our ship comes in, but in the meantime we have a patch of hardwood floors and the nice aroma of cat pee to compliment it.
Poor Jay. He has the choice of annoying, complainy, wife or torn up trashy house, and he chose the latter. That should tell me something.

Well, I guess I better go do some real work. Peace.

First Day of First Grade. And Third.

2011-08-15T08:58:00.004-05:00

Last night I came home from work and kissed my little Kindergartner for the last time as she lay in her bed asleep. She kicked her legs and swung at me like she always does when I kiss her while she's sleeping. I slipped into Bo's room and couldn't reach him on the top bunk so I kissed his hand. Life has been such a whirlwind since they finished school last May, I haven't thought much about having a First Grader and a Third Grader. It has hit me now!

They started a new school today. They were both nervous but so brave and mature about the change. I lived in the same house and went to school with the same group of kids my entire childhood, so I don't really know what this is like for them.

Already, my experiences with staff have been about 180 degree difference from the previous school. Most notable is, when I walked into the school with my two children, I didn't feel like a criminal trespassing. That was nice.

I feel such different things saying goodbye to my two kids. As I watched Avee walk into her class with a confident stride (when did she get so big!?) I felt pangs of sadness to not being spending my day with her. Watching her hang, swing, flip, and climb from different things in the house. Or tease her about being addicted to tv. Or be the recipient of her random and plentiful hugs and kisses throughout the day. I'll miss her quietly narking on Bo, so he won't hear her tattles. I'll miss her sparkling eyes and quick grin when I remind her not to tattle. And I hope she knows how good and smart and darling she is, and that no one will say or do anything during the day to make her doubt that.

As I walk away from Bo I hope he won't try too hard to be funny and bug his teacher. I hope he won't be bored and turn to mischief to entertain himself. I hope he will make a friend. I hope his teacher will treat him well. I hope he will tell me all about his day when he gets home. I hope he will love school as he should.

I hate giving my kids to other people for so long. But, I'm a big girl. I can do it. :)

Danyo starts preschool on Thursday. Based on how swimmingly he and I get along most days, I wonder if I will feel much more than sheer relief dropping him off. I have high hopes for some maturing this preschool year. I'm also really looking forward to not being screamed at to carry him everywhere. That will be nice.

I start classes next week myself. I've been in denial about what taking a full load of classes and being 6, 7, 8, and 9 months pregnant will be like. It should be awesome. I think it will be really cool when pregnancy brain fully kicks in and I forget what I'm saying mid-sentence.

We did find out the baby is a girl. I'm so completely thrilled by this news. Not half as much as Avee is though. She's agreed we can name the baby Avee Junior, as long as we don't say the Junior part, because that's kind of wee-yod.

Last month, actually, about 5 weeks ago, the day after we got home from vacation---J lost his job. I actually gave him a high five when he told me he'd been fired. I've just written and erased about 5 sentences trying to sum up his boss briefly. They all sound petty or childish. He doesn't know the business, he isn't honest, and he needed J out of the way to find a soft place to land because he'd flubbed up his own position by losing accounts. We've known about that last part since January, but we really didn't think he'd get away with it since it was so obvious to everyone what he was doing and it really just wasn't okay. But, it happened. And besides the obvious financial distress being suddenly unemployed can cause, it truly has been a blessing.

Because the aforementioned putz was trying to get rid of him, he had been making life miserable for J for several months. J handles everything in stride, but seeing how he is now without that stress in his life, shows me so clearly how miserable his work life was. So, just eliminating that stress alone has been great. J had been actively working toward going back to school this Fall, and being fired instead of quitting, really made that transition an easier decision, and financially more do-able. So, that's pretty awesome. If you want to know the "reason" cited for J getting fired, just think of the most politically correct and HR-approvable way you can say, "You hurt my feelings with all those big words and stuff, and I don't like how stupid you make me look". Hahaha. I just thought of that. But it's totally true.

J starts school in a week also. We are going to be one edjumacashun-gettin' family! J just needs to get a handful of prerequisites to apply to a Master's program.

Danyo just called his friend's house to invite her over to play. He was talking to her mom and about 1 minute into him barely answering her questions and giggling randomly, he yelled, "You ah taking fo-evoh!" Apparently she was supposed to assume he was calling to invite Emma over and she was supposed to already be at our house, while listening to him be a weirdo on the phone. It's not just me he is demanding and unreasonable with. That makes me feel a little better, actually.

Well, I told J I'd clean the bathrooms while he mowed the lawn and I think he just finished mowing. Oops, I better get to it.

Our camera battery wasn't charged this morning, but I will take like 57 pictures today after the kids get done with school. I'll post them all.

Ides of July

2011-07-15T06:06:00.003-05:00

I just was instructed to smell my 4 year old's bum to make sure I did a good job of wiping him. How did that become my life? If I was telling this story to my mom she would shake her head, roll her eyes and say "Oh brother" like I was gross and who would admit to that kind of thing. Only thing is, she had nine kids, I KNOW she didn't get through that experience without at least one weirdo child like Danyo. It wasn't me though.

We got back this week from our great little, first time ever, family vacation. I'm not one to brag...yes I am. My kids were AMAZING travelers. There was no whining about being in the car, and only minimal questioning about how much longer from Bo. In fact, the only real complaining that happened, was me, wishing I didn't have to listen to Weird Al, yet again. We have a dvd of 25 of his videos and the kids watched that dvd probably 5-6 times. Our first day back, Danyo spent most of the morning begging to watch "Weird Owl, just one time again." I pretended to be deaf. Although, it is kind of funny to hear him playing with his toys and muttering, "I lost on Jep-odee".

We spent 5 days in the SLC area, and that went by fast. We got to have lunch with Jay's two younger cousins who are BYU students, and my niece Hannah, who just started there. We went to J's all time favorite Thai restaurant in Provo. I handed my menu to him and said, "order for me". And he did. Like a fat man on no budget, that boy ordered. It was tons of food, and surprisingly, there was very little left over. That's so interesting Nobody. I know.

We went to J's reunion. There was an amazingly good turn out. I was mostly interested in seeing J's best friend and his wife, but managed to meet some other cool people who's names I've been hearing for 10 years. I still made fun of the reunion though. It couldn't be helped.

Oh yeah, I meant to write a little about our trip to Utah, but now that we're back, those details seem boring and inconsequential. We made it to Laramie just in time for me to take my final. I had until 10 pm to finish it and started it a little after 9 (Iowa time). It made J really nervous, which I thought was really cute. I got an A. AND I had to take the test in the lobby of the hotel because they didn't have wi-fi in the room. We found a Pho place for Avee, I got a cake for J's birthday at Safeway. It said, "Party Laramie style". The people of the Laramie Safeway Bakery did not think I was as funny as I thought I was. Oh well.

I just yelled at Avee and Danyo for fighting and now they are hugging to console each other about their mean, yelling, mom. Whatever works.

Our time in SLC was packed with visiting family and some friends. That is one thing I love about Utah. So many cool people to visit there. This was probably one of the first times I've gone there and didn't kind of wish I lived there. I felt like an outsider, and I was okay with that.

J took the two older kids to see his grandmother in a nursing home. She will be 95 in September. She didn't really know who any of them were, but apparently her dining mate at lunch was more than happy to pretend they were there to see her. Great-Grandma told them she was 64 years old and Bo thought that was pretty funny. I can't wait to get away with that kind of math...

I got to hang out with Mrs. Organic for an afternoon. My kids lost themselves in her pool the entire time and it was a great little visit. Danyo was thrilled because there were no height or weight regulations for him to go down the slide, so he probably did that 562 times.

I met Mrs. Organic a little over a year ago, in person. I got to chat with her for a bit, and I'll be darned if she was so fun to talk to, I've been waiting and waiting for a chance to do it again. I was not disappointed. :)

We had a fantastic three days in Cedar where three of my very good friends live. I think the traveling or something caught up with me because I was completely wiped out a couple of the days there. Oh yeah, I'm pregnant, in case you didn't know. I'm 4 months along, so it's not my first thought when I jump in a car and drive a bajillion miles in a week---but I've learned, it should be considered a little more. I laid around a lot in Cedar, and it was nice to be able to. One time I got up and started emptying the dishwasher of an almost always immaculate house and my friend yelled from the other room for me to knock it off. I don't get that. First of all, immaculate doesn't happen in my house. Ever. And second of all, when people come visit me, all I can think the entire time they are here is, "Why don't you get up and make yourself useful, like, do my dishes or scrub my floors?" so I don't know who or why JJMac operates the way she does. Weirdo.

We spent a day at the lake and it was probably one of the most perfectly gorgeous days I have ever experienced. It was sunny and warm and a breeze that just kept me from getting too hot. At one point I came out from under the shelter and sat in the sun. I kept telling myself to get up because Southern Utah, early July, pasty white skin...you know. Even 50 spf is no match for that. I could not get myself to get up---the sun felt sooooooooo good. I'm not sure I've ever experienced that before. A week later, I still have a very very odd sunburn on my legs. I missed some spots.

Bo got to go knee boarding and I think he pretty much died and went to heaven doing that. He loved being on the boat and in the water. All the kids got to be pulled around on a 3-seater raft and had a blast. I even tried it with Avee and Danyo. Avee totally freaked out on our ride though, and I couldn't figure it out because I KNOW she went faster other times when I wasn't sitting right next to her. It took a couple of days but I finally got the truth out of her---she was certain Danyo was going to go flying out, and that had her all worked up. In the meantime, I was laughing maniacally at my little tiny kids bouncing 2 feet up into the air... Poor Avee.

We took the scenic route home and went through KC to visit our families briefly. My kids loooooooooooove visiting there, so it was a perfect end to a perfect little trip.

Well, I started this yesterday but nobody was respecting my needs, so I stopped. :) Now it's 6 am and I've been up since 2. I don't know if I've ever had insomnia this bad. I only get it when I'm pregnant. It's the weirdest thing because I don't really know what it is about pregnancy that makes me unable to turn my brain off. I mean, I have plenty of issues that consume me when I'm not pregnant and I have no problem ignoring them for 7-8 hours every night then. It's stupid and annoying, but at least I know it'll go away.

Today would be my cousin Josie's 32nd birthday. Hap' Birthday Joze.

Stuff In My Head

2011-06-24T07:37:00.002-05:00

A few times in the last couple of days I've thought, "That's something I want to put on the blog" but now I'm here and none of them are coming to mind.

When I have to get up at a certain time in the morning, sleep is always a little more stressful during the night. I went to Scout Day Camp with Bo yesterday and by bedtime, I was pretty wiped out (boys are obnoxious by the way---I've never seen such handsy, annoying, pestering little creatures in all my days). I wanted to sleep my life away, but I had two other kids who hadn't been with me all day who were all up in my grill and knew I had to be up early to get him off to his last day. I think that's why I had weird dreams. I want to tell you about one.

I woke up (in real life) at 5:30am and was thrilled to realize I could go back to sleep. So I did. But then in my dream, I decided to actually go for a walk. My dream self is totally fit and active. In my walk, I was suddenly in my hometown, walking around the "historic square" that is about a mile from my childhood home, and when I was younger the only thing there that I utilized was the post office and a cheap movie theater, so I didn't spend a lot of time there. I was walking around checking out the little shops when suddenly I was made aware that it wasn't 5:45, it was actually 8:15, which is 15 minutes past the time Bo was supposed to be at camp. And then I realized J had a test, so he wasn't at home with the kids, and I was suddenly frantic to get home---a, I left my children home unattended, and b, we were now late. I started running--and I was awesome at running, by the way, and suddenly the ground was flooded with rainwater and there were lower points of water I could get through, but I really had to navigate kind of carefully and in advance. There were other "dream-like" obstacles that popped out but I don't remember them and they were probably weird, since they were dream-like.

I was really happy when I woke up at 6:45, in my bed, totally unfit and a bad runner still.

Probably the dream was getting out some of my feelings of being overwhelmed and out of time--all the time. Either that or it was a sign from God that the end is near and I better get my act together. We'll see.

This morning I was making apples and peanut butter for Danyo for breakfast. He's kind of demanding and insistent at times. It totally gets on my nerves. He was bouncing around the kitchen barking orders at me and said, "Is the peanut butter on my plate yet!? Get it on my plate!" I said, "Wow Danyo, I'm not really interested in making breakfast for a little boy who's speaking so rudely to me. I think you might want to try that again." He lowers his tone a bit and says, "I don't think this is any of your business." That = awesome. I love bossypants kids who repeat your bossypants phrases, inappropriately.

I wrote on Facebook yesterday how I shivered my tail off at day camp and STILL managed to get a sunburn. I think we saw the sun a total of 8 minutes yesterday, and that's not an exaggeration. How did I get burned!? It wasn't like cold and sunny, it was bleary and rainy and windy and cold. Anyway. One of my friends wrote, " But you are not a jedi yet..." and it made me laugh out loud. Mostly because I doubt she's a Star Wars ~~nerd~~ ~~junkie~~ fan as the comment might indicate. I read it to J and he replied bitterly, "You aren't allowed to laugh at that." Which totally made me laugh. He's really given it a valiant effort to get me to watch and enjoy those movies and it just hasn't happened. Some days he's just incredulous about that. To make our marriage work, we just have to agree to disagree. I know them's fightin' words for some. I'm sorry.

Yesterday one of the classes the scouts went to was building little birdhouse-bird feeder things. It was simple enough that the kids could navigate it on their own and they loved it. The leader-dude who presented this class was kind of...I don't know the word. He too was an order barker, to small children and grown adults alike. It was rubbing the other den walkers the wrong way and might have me too, if I cared enough. Anyway, Bo and his buddy finished their houses and this guy kept walking around hoping, almost insisting that there was more we needed to do. All nailed, screws in, wire on, colored, etc. After passing by a good 5 or 6 times he stops and says, "Do you have a 7th nail in?" He flips the house over and points to a spot at the bottom of the board. He grabs a nail and slams it into the back of the house while informing us, "This is BANG just a little BANG trick BANG to make it extra secure BANG BANG!" I'm thinking, yes, for those obese birds that fly around our house...

Turns out he just slammed the nail straight through the back of the house. It didn't secure anything. And it wasn't like, really close and he just missed by a hair, it was a good two inches away from any other board he may have been trying to "secure" it to. And he didn't even check his work--he banged it in and walked away.

Now, there's something you might not know about me. I have been told since I was a little girl that I have a very expressive face. I really think I'm being discreet or not showing much, but I've been told over and over, it's all over my face. So--I'm pretty sure that how dumb I thought what this guy did was all over my face. Only, I remain certain in my head, that I'm discreet. This time though, the 8 year old busted me. Bo looked across the table at me, mimicked my expression, and burst out laughing. His expression made me laugh because I didn't initially realize he was imitating me. He looked down at the table, looked up at me, and his face said, "Did I really just get to witness that stupidity first hand?"

It took us like 5 minutes to get the nail out too. We were laughing the whole time. I felt bad that it was at the expense of someone else, but it was kind of fun to have this little "inside joke" with my 8 year old. I also probably better watch myself a little more closely. He's a sharp one, that boy.

I have one more full day class of school, one more regular class and a final and I am home free. I'm technically home free because aside from the final (which I'm certain I will ace) I have nothing else required of me but my time. Yeehaw! I'm so excited about a school-free July and all the fun stuff we have in store. I hope we run into a gravy train in all our travels because that's really the only hitch to all the plans I have. :) That and laundry.

In my ethics class we have to do role plays of unethical or poorly handled counseling sessions. Since there's only 15 in my class, we are all kind of forced to participate on a "voluntary" basis. This last week, it was kind of falling on me. Only this time, instead of having the counselor go out and be "surprised" by the dilemma, he sent me, the client out. I thought I had been safe volunteering to be the client.

Well, the dilemma was the counselor hitting on me and basically he had to handle whatever my response was. I tried to really experience it, so I expressed my concerns and how creepy I thought it was, etc, etc. Well, this guy was really good at being the creepy counselor and was persistent, and kept putting it back on me. "Do you think it's wrong? Do you see any reason we couldn't make it work?" I finally kind of ran out of things to say and there was a long pause. I had hoped the professor would intervene and say, "okay, that's good" but he didn't. So I said, "Well...you are kind of cute..." The whole class roared and I saw the professor throw up his hands, laughing, "No no! Stop! You aren't supposed to do that!" I figured it effectively ended the role play, so it was the right move. I kind of love being old in college. :)

Well now I have to go face my day. Au revoir.

Middle O' June

2011-06-13T08:44:00.003-05:00

I gots some catching up to do! I'm probably going to be back dating some posts, for the boys' birthdays, Bo's baptism, etc---so if you see random stuff popping up, pay no mind to my beautiful procrastination/cram session. It's how I do.

Last night we were at some friend's house watching a movie in their backyard with their new projector. It was really fun. As I was sitting there snuggled up with J, Avee, and Danyo every other minute, I was thinking what a wonderful weekend we'd had. I love to get things accomplished, but I REALLY love to relax and unwind, and this weekend was a perfect combination of both. Another friend threw an amazing pirate party for two of her kids at our house. Probably one of the most creative and fun parties I've ever been to. Heh, I didn't even have to go to it, she brought it to me. So, out of that party we got a delish lunch, I got a cleaned up yard, and the house was in great shape. Yeehaw! All our work was done by 10am. Beautiful.

This morning Bo started a "Kids University". He's going to a magnets class and an H2o class. He was so cute this morning. He was so tired from our late movie night, but so excited to start his program, there was a very long pause between anything I said and any response he gave. At one point he even said, "Hang on, I need to let those words go through my head a little longer before I can answer." I had noticed that all of his thrusters weren't firing yet, but to hear him describe it was particularly enjoyable for me.

I am halfway through a really hectic month. I'm taking a 3 credit class and three 1 credit classes, all in the month of June. The one credit classes I don't have to buy texts or take any tests, but they are all day, for two full days. I think school has abolished my social life. Sometimes that makes me sad. Mostly I just want to hunker down and get through this. I'm learning so much great stuff, I don't want to miss the experience for too much hunkering down. :)

Lately, just in the past week I've felt disenchanted with the "counseling industry". I always do stuff like this, and then I get over it. In one of my classes there are two students who are doing continuing ed credits, they've already graduated the program and are counselors in nearby schools. And they are totally rude and condescending to other students and disrespectful to the teacher (she's a bit of a flibberty-gibbit, I'll admit), and all in all, just really embarrassing representatives of the profession. In my humble opinion.

Yesterday in my ethics class I, and another girl who started the program with me in January, had to do some role-playing scenarios. Everyone else in the class is either done with the program or quite close to done. Pretending to be a counselor, facing an ethical issue doesn't phase them a bit. It terrified us. My classmate did a really good job with a fake scenario of a client asking to borrow money. In my opinion, a client that isn't clear on that boundary would actually need to be spoken to pretty directly, which she did. She was kind and direct. I thought she did an excellent job. And truly, neither of us know a thing about how to conduct a session, what approaches should be taken, how to word things "properly", etc. I watched two girls in front of me basically ripping her up one side and down the other for her not saying, "oh sweetie, I'm sorry money is tight, I understand things are hard, I empathize with you, but..." She simply said, "I'm sorry, I'm not able to help you, I have a code of ethics as a counselor that I have to adhere to and...." First of all, IT'S FAKE and second of all---how is being all judgmental and catty to a peer any more professional or educated? It made me sad. I made a very deliberate comment about how I felt a more direct response was necessary with a client that unclear on client/counselor boundaries. I hope they burned in shame at my indirect condemnation.

Heh. Just kidding.

I shouldn't be surprised though. The one making all the faces of horror during my friend's scenario, was the same girl who thought a 13 year old boy engaging in random sexual acts with older men had a right to privacy and his parents didn't need to know. Another classmate referred to his behavior as Russian roulette and she told him that was "a little overly-dramatic". Um, remind me never to send my child to you, crazy-every-body-is-equal girl! Whoops? Am I being judgmental? My bad....

June 29th is my final, J's birthday, our anniversary, and the day we head out of town for our family vacation. It's really the first one we've ever taken, in 9 years. Two years ago I drove to Utah with the kids, without J. We were gone for over two weeks and during that time, J got 1 of 2 reactions from people when they heard I'd taken the kids and gone to Utah without him. One was, "Oh wow, are things okay?" and the other was, "Dude! How did you score THAT!?" Mostly other men asked the latter.

Maybe I'll go work on my backdated posts now. It's now 6 am Tuesday morning and I suspect I have the house and solitude all to myself for at least another hour.

The Story of My Life

2011-06-04T11:11:00.000-05:00

I think I've mentioned before, I do a preschool co-op with 5 other mothers and their cute little preschoolers. It has turned out to be an AWESOME little venture. I thought it would be a great little social outing for Danyo and a good little break for each of the moms. Danyo has learned so much, and remarkably, all 6 kids get along really well. I have loved being a part of it.

The last time I taught, I did the letter L and we did some ladybug crafts.

I found this great little craft idea online that would take more time, but fairly simply steps, and a really cute end result. I had the kids paint little flower pots red, then I modge podged black spots and a very feminine little ladybug face onto the pot.
They would ultimately be cute little wind chimes, like this.

I had the kids paint the pots red, we let it dry, and then while they had snack, I quickly put the faces on six little pots. As those were drying on the table, I gathered the children onto the carpet and we did stories and singing. During one of our songs, I glanced over at the table and spotted this:
It took me a second and my heart just sank. I was sick, realizing I had just ruined six little flower pots that six little 3 year olds had just painted, with great effort and patience. I had looked all over town for pots those sizes, there was red paint all over my table and most of the kids, I had cut out dozens of eyes and dots...I was just so sad.

Turns out I only messed up one. And I know myself well, so I had purchased 8 pots total.

This really is the story of my life. Anything crafty, creative, or requiring step by step following of instructions, the only thing I do consistently, is mess it up. It's funny to me that I can be that consistent at not doing something right. I don't know what it is. Maybe I think it should be easier than it is, and I just rush.

It reminds me of a time my mom was visiting me and I dragged her to an all day craft party at church. I had signed up to decorate a cute little shelf, presumably for Bo's little nursery. I sat down and started chatting with my mom as I worked. I painted and wiped and painted, and cleaned up, and painted. It was a tiny little shelf with two little knobs to hang things on and I could NOT get it painted for the life of me. I kept trying and kept chatting.

Finally I sighed and threw the shelf down on the table and said, "I don't even know why I try---this stuff never works out for me!"

I half anticipated my mom's usual supportive, "Oh, you've done much better than I ever could have" or something along those lines. She started laughing almost uncontrollably and said, "I can't believe how long you kept trying---it was so obviously not working for you from the beginning. I've just been sitting here wondering when you'd realize that!"

I love her honesty. Really.

Bo's Baptism

2011-05-23T10:09:00.000-05:00

This past weekend Bo turned 8 and was baptized. My mom and J's parents came up for the festivities, and it was a wonderful, whirlwind weekend. Bo really wanted to get baptized on his birthday, and it was a little bit of fancy footwork to make it happen, but we did. By the way, in our church, kids get baptized when they are 8. I didn't really think about that until my dentist said something about having my hands full with 3 kids and a newborn and I couldn't figure out why he assumed I had a newborn. I said, "Are you calling me fat?"

No I didn't.

Bo had one friend over to play on the Saturday before his birthday. I think his friend had four bowls of ice cream. At one point I found him on the porch with the carton of ice cream and a spoon. I'm glad he felt comfortable... He is a really good kid, actually. His obsession with strawberry ice cream was a little surprising.

So, I'm not sure if I can document it properly, but it really made me laugh when it happened, so I want to try. Bo's friend Isaac brought a card, in lieu of a present. Bo eyed that card from the moment Isaac got there, dying to open it up and see what wonders it held for him. Well, my mom also gave Bo a card, but he had eyes only for Isaac's card, and didn't notice Grandma's card. When he was opening presents, he eagerly grabbed the big white envelope he'd been eying all afternoon. He opened it up and read, "Today is your birthday, you are an amazing and delightful GRANDSON." J and I smiled proudly at his reading skills, Grandma smiled proudly at the perfect card she'd selected, Avee snatched at the money that was slipping from the card, Danyo was shaking presents trying to entice Bo to move past the boring cards faster.... Bo looked pointedly at Isaac, furrowed his brow and said, "What on earth?" Isaac immediately knew Bo's mistake, while the rest of us were still figuring it out. Isaac was laughing, shaking his head, and waving his hands defensively, "That's not from ME!"

I wish I could have gotten Bo's expression on camera, it was priceless. It was like all of his wonderful memories of awesome Isaac flashed through his head and he was going to have to let them go, because an 8 year that calls another 8 year old "Grandson" is just too crazy.

We had Bo's baptism immediately after church, which is not how it's usually done, but in order for it to be on his birthday, that was our only option. I felt like it was very gracious of the people who stayed, to stay. Our church is 3 hours long already. That's a LONG day of being holy, and whatnot. Anyway, we kept saying to Bo, "look at all these people who love and care about you, isn't this awesome?" I miss the days when I got to put the spin on his reality. He responded every time with, "It's because they were already here!" This cracked me up because, well, mostly he was right. :) We have good friends who would have been there no matter what, but he wasn't going to let me call it anything different than it was.

My mom gave a talk and she did an awesome job. At one point she pulled out "treasures" from a bag to make the point about what matters in this life (or rather, what we take with us when we die. Her message was much more eloquent than my synopsis there) She pulled a little cream colored vase with gold trimming out and set it up. She said it was very expensive, and very important. She pulled out a little silver spoon with engraving on it and said she'd had it forever, her initials were on it, etc. I sat there looking at those two things and just couldn't believe my mom had them! I thought, "wow, I never took my mom for a fine china kind of collector---and how have I never seen that little spoon---that's amazing!" I thought of all the twists and turns her life has taken--the moves, the losses, the 9 kids who kept her from ever having anything nice...

And there were other people in the audience who'd never met her that knew this stuff was fake. Alls* I have to say is---that woman is good! She even got me! One of my friend's husband saw her put the vase up on a precarious edge of the podium and got terribly nervous about it falling off. He and I were the two ding-dongs that practically missed the point of her message, getting caught up in the "treasures".

When we got home, as we were all piling out of the car, Bo remarked, "I don't feel any different." I kind of laughed, but my mother-in-law laughed heartily. Perhaps we didn't entirely prepare Bo for the afterward part. Where, you don't really feel much more than wet.

That night was the night the tornadoes ripped through the midwest, tearing up Joplin Missouri. There was something akin to a tornado that came through our town---we had a warning, so a tornado was spotted, but whatever hit here, was mild enough. Monday morning I saw a lot of wind damage up north, by the kids' school, so it was significant enough, but I don't know that it was ever called a tornado.

We went down in the basement and the kids and the grandparents took turns reading from The Diary of a Wimpy Kid. J's mom laughs hysterically at every other page, so it was entirely enjoyable for the kids to read with her. J was being a grouch about having to come to the basement, and I was getting weather updates from my friend in Utah. We don't have tv, so aside from checking the path of the storm on the internet, I didn't know what was going on in Iowa.

It was a late night and a wonderful weekend with the grandparents. We are glad to have Bo in our family. Neither of us can believe he's already 8, but I guess that's just how it goes!

Because I Can

2011-05-20T13:00:00.002-05:00

Today's post is brought to you by streams of consciousness. I have nothing specific to write, just my old insatiable desire to write. Lucky you!

Bo's birthday is in 2 days. I love his birthday. I love May. I love him. I love remembering the excitement, anticipation, and nervousness, of his arrival. I look at him now and smile---remembering how I wondered so many nights what he'd look like, how he'd be, and now I've gotten to enjoy him for nearly 8 years and he's more amazing and cute than I ever dreamed of! His freckles, his cowlicks, his big-toothed grin, his scowls, his obnoxious noises, his quirks. I love his birthday.

He's getting baptized on Sunday. He's pretty excited and seems to understand the implications of baptism more than I could have at his age. Yesterday he came out of school and casually mentioned he had gotten a skills referral. He got a dozen of those in Kindergarten from random people for ridiculous reasons so we kind of got used to the forms and not really caring. This one said he'd gotten frustrated with a classmate during a game and hit her. TWICE. I was really shocked and disappointed. He was NOT prepared for that reaction from me. I said to him with dismay, "You hit another child?!" He jovially explained, "Mom, I'm getting baptized on Sunday, I have to get all the bad behavior out of me before then." I'd like to thank whichever adult gave him that idea. I remember hearing someone saying it, I didn't think he'd use it!!!

I sternly told him that maybe he didn't really understand what his baptism was about if he thought being naughty up until then was a good idea. He suddenly realized he wasn't going to be able to joke his way out of it, and that I wasn't going to cast the skills form aside, rolling my eyes at the fascist administration of his school. I told him if another child hit Avee at school, I'd be furious. I didn't add because she's the sweetest little girl on the planet and that anyone who'd want to hurt her would just be a plain monster... ahem... anyway.

On the way home I gave him a choice of writing thirty times "I will not put my hands on other people" (an oft-used and much hated punishment from my childhood, obviously it didn't deter me from loving to write) or write a list of 10 things he could do differently than resorting to hitting. He chose the 30 sentences which I suspected he would because it didn't require thought. He ended up writing 10 things though. It's scan worthy.
I got my first semester grades back. Two A's and B. I'm pretty bummed about the B, but I'm almost 99% certain that no one got an A, if I didn't. His tests were ridiculous and that was basically the only reason I got a B. I got a B on both of tests and they were more than a third of our entire grade. I don't typically believe in grading on a curve (although, I'm not morally opposed or anything) but I think if NO ONE in your class gets an A, there's probably a problem with the assessment and it should be modified. Whatever. I'm probably the lowest grade in the class and trying to make myself feel better.

Well, Bo told his entire class I was bringing the best treat ever to school for his birthday. Then informed me of it last night just before bedtime. I had forgotten if he was going to share something with his class, it would have to be today. And I sure as heck didn't intend to bring the best treat ever. So, now I have to go make some cake pops. Apparently if you do it once for Bo, it becomes tradition that must never die.

I pulled him out of school for a week so his teacher doesn't really like me anymore. It's hard for me to navigate my way through life when people don't like me. I'm so used to being adored.

Heh.

I just found the usb cord for my camera. I'm suddenly remembering tons of things to blog about. There are 405 pictures. I'm going to post every last one of them.

Word to each of your mothers.

Old Footage

2011-05-13T13:07:00.002-05:00

Today I woke Avee up for the day (the only child I have to do that with) and reminded her tonight was our girl's night and sleep over. Her face beamed. All that means is, no brothers, and she gets to sleep with me, and that is pure joy. Tonight is the fathers and sons camp out. J's excited to have willing participants to camp with, Bo is beside himself with excitement, and Danyo just knows "it's not today". He's going to be thrilled when he learns it IS today.

So, Avee is an absolute delight. She's funny, charming, smart, obedient, helpful, and just all around wonderful. I'm a little embarrassed to admit, that for some time now, I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe it won't drop for another 8 years. Maybe it won't drop at all. But J and I are in heaven with this darling little, practically perfect, girl.

Then I was looking for an old picture and found some old footage of Avee. And I remembered...

I've paid my dues. That girl was a PIECE OF WORK in her toddler years and even as a baby. I'm earning my reward of surviving those years. It's funny to look back and see her that way. And I know I got a kick out of it at times, but I know it was more hard than anything else. She was always, and I mean ALWAYS--one step ahead of me. I found a video that proved it.

She's probably almost three here:

Obviously I was aware of the showdown that would ensue because I don't typically pull out the camera when my kids are disobeying me. I have always loved, and will continue to love, how kids think they are being sneaky, right in front of your face. Danyo will come steal candy out of my school bag, then hold the candy away from his body, right in front of me, and dash out of the room. As though, the candy made a quicker exit, so I didn't see it. I say, "Danyo, put the candy back" and he responds, "You didn't see the candy!" I love that. Enough that most of the time he gets to keep the candy. Hmmmm, maybe that's why he's such a toot!

I successfully finished my first semester of grad school. It was a lot of work--ahem---for J. That dude worked practically 24/7 without breaking a sweat. He's awesome. April pretty much kicked my butt school wise. Group projects should burn in hell for eternity. I was either the slacker or the anal one, and really, my description shouldn't vary that much in a group. We got perfect scores on all of them though, so I think that means I'm perfect just the way I am.

I love being back in school. I love "redefining" myself in that role. I was a student for so long, I didn't know who I could be when I finished. Now I feel like I've been "Mom" for so long, it's hard not to reach over and work on a stain on my classmate's jacket when the lecture gets boring.

I don't really make very good first impressions. I don't know why either. I always know that eventually people will like me, but that lapse of time between first impression and when they discover I'm awesomer than an ice cream sandwich, can sometimes be painful and excruciatingly long for me. It's nice to be married to someone who says, "Hang in there, they'll get it." He's probably speaking from experience. Dang.

School's out soon. I can't wait. I've reached the stage in life where I'm sick of packing lunches, keeping a strict schedule, driving to school, etc, but in 3 months I'll be sick of my kids and so excited for school to start. This summer we have swim lessons, kids university, two road trips, and visitors to Iowa, ALL planned so far. It's gonna be an awesome summer.

By way of documenting our lives, right now Bo is obsessed with the presidents. His favorites are Herbert Hoover, Harry Truman, and Theodore Roosevelt. He hates Woodrow Wilson. He knows all these random facts about them and gets really annoyed that I don't keep up with him. Just to show him who's boss, I ask him to give me three methods of intervention for an identified patient in a family counseling setting.

Avee has gotten into video games with J. It's pretty cute. She still works him like a...like a.... I don't know. I can't think of any thing that has that much power over another---just by existing. Danyo has gotten a little better about his mouthiness and losing his temper. He gets lost in the shuffle a lot. He's so easy-going, it's easily done. He loves his stuffed animals, a dog named Kipper, a dog named Nixon, a nameless elephant and a pink Care Bear. And his blanket, made by my friend Rebecca. They are his soul mates. His best friend is this hysterical little girl named Emma and they can play together nonstop without one single fight. It's my favorite part of the day, listening to them talk. They are also quite naughty together at times. Jumping on beds, opening the garage door over and over, spilling entire cans of cashews and running from the scene of the crime.

I have to go.
Word to your mothers.

The Development of Bo

2011-04-13T21:20:00.003-05:00

So, I want to post about Bo. He's growing up right before my eyes and it's just crazy to see it happening so quickly. His has a different smile now. His body is becoming lanky. His humor, sometimes a step ahead of mine. That's mostly what I want to document. He's made me laugh out loud several times in the last week. Every time I laugh there's this huge sense of pride that he has such a great sense of humor.

The other day I was holding Danyo on my lap and squeezing his cute little face up against mine. I said, "Oh my goodness this is just the sweetest little face on the planet! And you're pretty cute too Danyo." I heard Bo chuckle. Granted, my joke wasn't that funny, I was still pretty tickled that Bo got the joke.

Last week we were going through the drive through at the bank and Bo noted, "Hey mom, check out that cloud, it looks like Russia!" I do what I always do---I responded absentmindedly. I said, without thinking, "I can see Ressia frem my beckyahrd". You know, in my best Tina Fey, imitating Sarah Palin voice. All three of my kids burst out laughing and immediately began imitating it. It was very entertaining to me.

Well, after a couple of days of THAT, Bo knew it was time to up the ante. So, we were at breakfast and the kids were quoting it adnauseum, even though it's kind of against the rules to do that kind of crap in our house, a 3 year old imitating an Alaskan accent is awesome a billion times.

J started to tell a "story". In retrospect, I see that it was the set up for a "joke". And yes, it needs quotes. He said about two sentences (that gave no indication of where he was headed) when Bo suddenly interrupted and said, something about living in Florida and "I can see Cuba from my back yard". I didn't hear the beginning. But I whipped around at the sheer smarty-pantsness it takes to make that joke, and then burst out laughing. I looked at J incredulously that our 7 year old just made such a joke and J said somewhat indignantly (mixed with pride), "That was where I was going with that!"

Since then, there have been several variations. Including, Canada from our front yard.

The other thing that made me laugh out loud was a story he was relating to me. I must confess, I don't hear a lot of what that boy says. He talks nonstop sometimes. And most times, it's a variation on the same question/remark he's had for the last 3 days of his most recent obsession. I think he's asked me 5 different times in 3 different ways, who my favorite president is. And he's tried asking 3 different ways which assassination or assassination attempt on a president was the most "uncared about." The overly preachy mother came out and he got a sound lesson on the value of life and how not matter how disliked a person may be, there is no reason anyone should ever be shot. Of course, he was just trying to fill in the space of his mental spreadsheet of "the mostest". At least now he knows assassination is not okay. Good job, me.

So, he's going on, and suddenly I hear a punch line. And it's hilarious. So I make him back up. And this is what he'd said.

J took the kids over to watch our friend "prep" a pig before smoking it. And pulling it. Because, we subsequently had pulled pork. So, he pulled it, right?

I was at work. The pig still had a head. It also apparently had a stamp or branding on it, which Bo asked about. Our friend explained to him that it was just a branding, it was just on the skin, and it wouldn't affect the meal because we don't eat the skin.

So Bo recreated this dialogue in his head.

Bo:What is that marking on the pig?
Friend: Oh, that's a stamp.
Dad: It's on the skin, so you don't have to worry about the stamp. We don't eat the skin of a pig, so we won't be eating that stamp.
Bo's side note: (just pretend people don't eat pork rinds, so that what Dad says is actually true)
Bo: Well, that's weird, I always thought it was okay to eat food stamps.

I could NOT believe this little rewriting of dialogue for a punchline. I was insanely proud, you must know. But I was also very VERY surprised that the kid knows what Food Stamps are.

Welcome to Iowa, I guess.

He made another pun-type joke this afternoon and for the life of me I can't recall it. I just remember when he said it, that I realized his humor was evolving and he was a really funny kid.
Of course I've always thought he had a really sharp sense of humor, but it's so nice to finally reap the benefits of it.

He does NOT like me blogging about him. Tooooooooo bad.

Tonight I let him stay up a little later with me. He sat next to me on the bed, reading. He was cursing his 5 year old self that had scribbled on parts of the book, spelled things stupidly, and torn out pages. It was kind of funny how annoyed he was, knowing he was the one who had done it. When it was time to go to bed, he didn't give it up easily. He skulked to the door and then turned brightly and said, "So, what did you and Danyo have for lunch today? Was it good? Do you want to have it again tomorrow? Did Danyo eat his food or did he just play with his drink?"

He totally got me too. I started answering and chatting away. He's sneaky. Always has been insanely creative about bedtime stall tactics.

We got food poisoning last week from Tim Tam cookies. In defense of the Australians, whom I love dearly, they were Pepperidge Farm Tim Tams. It was just a bad batch and it got me and the kids and a visiting friend. I learned a lot about each of us in this trying time. First, I would have been fine if I had only had one. I ate 3, and I felt every ounce of them. Ugh. Bo is a bit of a ninny. I'm sure he was uncomfortable, but no more uncomfortable than the rest of us. But he was practically wailing about it. Of course, as soon as I offered him a Sprite to sip on, he never complained again. Avee on the other hand, barely mentioned in passing that her stomach hurt as she was going to bed. Then the next day when we were all miserable, she was bouncing all over, and begging me to let her have another cookie. When I tried to tell her that they were the reason we were sick---her response was, "So, we're already sick, what does it matter if they make us sick!" That kind of logic in a 6 year old is hard to resist. Mostly because I think the same way.

Danyo didn't complain once but basically crapped his way through a package of pullups. TMI? Sorry.

I just told J I'd be done blogging in 4 minutes. He said he didn't believe me for one minute.
But really, I just wanted those Bo stories recorded. And to pretend I exist once again in the blogging world. Mission accomplished.

Life is good for me right now. I love my classes. I don't love group projects, but c'est la vie. I am about 3 weeks away from a successful completion of one semester. That will feel good.

I love Spring. I have good friends. Our needs are met. Life is good.

The End.

Sunday Ramblin'

2011-03-20T21:39:00.003-05:00

There was a time when I didn't feel a need to have something to blog about. I just sat down and started writing. I think those posts may have separated the wheat from the chaff. I'm sorry. But I do kind of miss the carefree blogger I once was. I want to blog regularly but I either don't have time or content, and the two never seem to meet up.

Last week was my Spring Break and it was lovely. J was out of town so it was just me and the chillin's....well, uh, chillin'. I couldn't help but notice that flying solo with a 7, 5, and 3 year old is CONSIDERABLY easier than flying solos with a 1 and 3 year old, like I did every week in Texas. Babies are hard. While the week went more smoothly, I always prefer J home. I like that boy.

Little Miss Avee is going to be 6 in one week. I started blogging on her first birthday. So, I guess there will be TWO birthdays around here. I can always make something about me.

Tonight I had the kids start keeping a journal. Bo was none too pleased about it. In an effort to convince them that they'd like reading it when they were older, I told them about stuff I'd read in J's journal when he was a little kid. Like, when he was about 10 or 11 and he wrote that he'd asked Lisa to be his girlfriend and she said no, and he wrote, "I don't blame her." Totally cracks me up. You might think it's a sad depressed little entry, but that's not how J rolls. It was more compassionate and understanding of Lisa than it was pity for himself.

Avery wrote that she was in "kindrgrtin". I got to watch her sound out all the sounds in the word. It was adorable. She wants to do it right, but I want to prolong this phonetic spelling so I'm kind of not very honest right now. She'll thank me later. I'm sure of it.

Tonight we were at some friend's house for dinner and my friend was telling me about this adorable old woman she saw wearing a fedora. As we were on the conversation of the elderly, Avee, playing the wii, chimed in---"I love old people's elbows!" We all laughed because it was so bizarre and random---but it is classic Avee. She tries to say the most bizarre things and every once in a while she nails it.

So, I actually have a problem I'd love some input on. In the past I've gotten some great suggestions or insights or reassurance on this blog, so I'm hoping for some more.

Danyo is kind of rotten. He's actually adorable and sweet and charming. But lately, for probably the last couple of months, those characteristics are rare to be seen. He's short tempered, he's demanding, he's inconsolable, and he has an awful fierce little mouth on him. A couple of examples. If he wants something and I don't respond within a couple of seconds (I don't hear him, I'm on the phone, I'm driving, another child is talking to me, I can't understand him) he completely loses it, starts yelling, screaming, crying, and basically cussing me out, I'm stupid, he hates me, etc, etc. I can calm him down from that fairly easily, but it's excessive.

If he wants something and I say no, he pesters endlessly. "You say no and I say yes!" He'll say that for about 20 minutes. He wants to hit me. He hates me. He won't just go and disobey, but he will not leave it alone. I will explain why he can't have something, offer alternatives, distract, do a number of things but he won't stop.

I feel like I could list a zillion examples.

The other day he was at preschool at my friend's house and he wanted an umbrella and she told him no. He started to call her stupid but he stopped. I was so glad he had enough sense to not finish, but I realized then that it was a problem that needed to be addressed more fully.

Honestly, if I saw a kid behave like he sometimes does, I would think something was amiss at home. He often talks through clenched teeth when he's mad, which seems to me to be a learned behavior and he doesn't see that here. Although this morning when I was helping him get dressed I grabbed him up and said, "Oh my gosh you are so cute I could just EAT YOU" and realized right afterward that I said it through clenched teeth. But that was a NICE thing! :)

"I hate you" and "stupid" have both been words that Avee and Bo have tried on for size, right around this age. But they didn't get mad as often or throw as many fits as him, so we just didn't hear it as much.

My take on it is that he doesn't feel like he has enough control in his life. He is genetically predisposed to a short temper (both J and I are short-tempered, but we've learned how to manage it over the years. :) ). He doesn't have adequate coping skills and it's my job to teach them, but I'm a little bit at a loss. And he's annoying when he's angry so my tolerance for dealing with him is considerably shortened. Sometimes when he's totally crazy and I don't know what's set him off or how to talk him down, I wonder if he has some bizarre food allergy that makes him crazy. That's how crazy he can make me. :)

Any ideas?

You should know, there isn't anything amiss at home. He doesn't see any fighting or name calling at home, Avee and Bo are pretty mild-mannered, J and I get along swimmingly, etc. I just don't know.

Okay, we're going to watch "Waiting for Superman".

I will send a batch of cookies to anyone who gives me the cure for Danyo. :)

P.s. I make good cookies.

Har Kuts

2011-03-14T18:24:00.000-05:00

I cut Avee's hair last night. We've been trying to grow it out (a trend around here, and yet I'm the only one with long hair...) but it just looks so scraggly and scrappy 98% of the time. I do love the pigtails, but if I'm being realistic, we just don't make time for cute stuff most days.
Plus, she looks absolutely adorable with short hair.

So, I chopped it all last night. She was amazingly patient about it. It took me much longer than it should have. She recorded herself on our Flip camera, and bragged about her new haircut. Shortly after, she went to bed.

This morning when she got up, not a word was said about her hair.

We spent an hour and a half together this morning getting ready for school, eating, chatting, etc. Not a word about her hair.

I walk out to the car where the kids were supposed to be settling in, getting buckled and she was standing by my door with a sad little face. This is her typical way of communicating with me any dissatisfaction she has about anything. I was rushing to get going and she realized I wasn't going to notice the obvious, so she pointed to the van door where in the dirt "Dum har kut" was written. I said, "What is that!?" She said, "dumb haircut" sulkily. My temper immediately flared because I thought Bo had written it and I was going to beat him with his own backpack for it. Who wrote that!?" She said she had, and my temper immediately calmed. I barked at her to get in the van and then asked her why she had written that.

"Because I hate my hair cut, it looks dumb."
"Wow Avee, that makes me so sad to hear, I worked hard to make it look good and I think I did a great job. I think it's a very cute haircut."
"Well I don't! I don't like my hair this short!"
"That's weird, you didn't say anything about it last night, or all morning. Why are you suddenly complaining?"
"I don't want to go to school with a dumb haircut."
"Well, you are wrong about that. It's not a dum har kut, and I can guarantee you that everyone will think it's cute. I'm positive you will get at least 5 compliments on your hair today."
"No I won't."
"Okay, let's make a bet. If you get 5 compliments today, you have to clean the bathroom for me when you get home. If you don't, then I'll do something you want."
"Eight. I have to get eight compliments."
"Okay, eight. I bet you'll probably even get 10. OR people won't even notice, which means it's not a dumb haircut because you still look the same."

We rode about a half mile in silence, and then, "Never mind, I don't want to bet you."

That's what I thought.

Turns out the average kindergartner doesn't care about their classmates adorable dum har kuts because nobody said anything, except her substitute teacher, who told her it looked neat. Which, I find very complimentary because I definitely was aiming for a neat cut, but Avee prefers the words "cute" or "beautiful".

Fortunately for me, she forgot that the other half of the bet was that she got to pick something if I was wrong.

My luck, she'll remember at 7:59 tonight.

Scott

2011-03-11T21:47:00.001-06:00

You made me laugh. You made me cry. Mostly you made me laugh. You were stubborn and passionate and opinionated. You were tenderhearted, forgiving, and sweet. You made me so angry sometimes, and other times so proud.

You didn't say a single thing when I smashed into your car at 16, completely ruining months and months worth of work. You brought me chocolates with a bite out of each one when I was sick. You played tennis with me on a broken leg. You flickered your bedroom light every morning when I drove past on my way to seminary. You walked me halfway home after I walked you halfway home, never really ready to say goodnight. You made me try squirrel. Your laugh was contagious. You once hid a bag of cheeseburgers from a passing police car, like it was a bag of crack. You tried to protect me when I played tackle football with the guys. You drew pictures of half a dozen Disney characters and made me hang them on my wall because you thought all girls liked Disney characters. You wrote me letters using obscure or ridiculously big words to say completely juvenile things. You really tried hard to do things right, so many times.

You were stupid and impulsive and shortsighted. You were innovative and talented and hardworking.

You made me laugh until my stomach and face were sore; a hundred times or more.

You broke my heart once or twice.

You guarded your pain like a mother bear with her cub. Fierce, mean, threatening, if anyone got near it. I don't know that anyone ever knew the full extent of it.

You dealt with your problems idiotically so many times. But you faced your consequences like a man, and somehow managed to handle life skillfully, despite it all.

You acted so tough, like you didn't want anyone to know how gentle and kind you were.

You made it a point to make people get past the rough-gruff-hardened exterior to see what you were really about. I think you, more than anyone, taught me to look past the exterior for something worthwhile.

We were the odd couple. Goody-Two-Shoes, best friends with Trouble. But really, you had a better idea of right and wrong and what really mattered, long before me. I just played by the rules better.

I'm muddling through strange emotions, brought about by your death. We had next to nothing in common in our adult lives, but something about sharing those tumultuous teen years kept us connected all these years. It feels strange now to mourn your death---I don't know how to do it properly.

Last time we talked I asked you how a big goofy-looking jerk like you got such a beautiful wife. You told me that was no way to talk to a cancer patient.

I always fell for your inappropriate and ridiculous jokes and you laughed when I apologized for my insensitivity.

You despised hypocrisy.

I think your inability to overlook it or get past it made you do some pretty dumb stuff.

But maybe, if anyone could have known your hurt, or carried some of it for you, you would have found peace in this life.

I know you are at peace now. I'm certain you aren't resting though. This time when I say "be good" I think you might actually do it!

I'll see you where the sidewalk ends and the road begins.
June 14, 1975-March 4, 2011

P.S. I'll make sure they keep putting flags out for your birthday every year.

He's An Animal

2011-03-09T20:13:00.002-06:00

I have a lot I want to post, but no time to do it. So I will leave you with a picture that brings me joy.

Okay, maybe not joy. Just the giggles. Every time I see it.

Ketching Up

2011-03-03T20:18:00.008-06:00

A couple of weeks ago I came home from class....wait, let me back up. A couple of months ago my sister sent the kids this great cardboard play house. It has little windows and a door that open, it's tall enough for Bo to stand in upright, and it's black and white, intended for coloring all over. Very cool.
Anyway, back to coming home from class. We'd had this thing for at least a month at this point. I walked into the living room and hear J's funny hello greeting from very nearby. Only, I can't see him. Then he pokes his head out of the window of the cardboard house. He's inside, wrapped up in a blanket, with a space heater, and his laptop. I couldn't stop laughing at him. He kept trying to have a conversation with me and I just couldn't do it. Finally I told him it was just a little too Michael Jackson for me and if he wanted to talk to me, he had to come out of the playhouse. He muttered, "Michael Jackson wished he had a playhouse like this."

Then, last week I came home from class and J was on the couch, with a snuggi (I found generic ones at Aldi for six dollars, that's why we own something like that, and because I know J has secretly dreamed of owning one since they were invented) and the fire burning. I don't know why I found it so entertaining. He so wasn't meant to live in Iowa, he is ALWAYS cold. But it provides entertainment for me. I pulled my blackberry out (my camera was missing) and he said, "This is going on the blog, isn't it?" Yes, yes it is.

On Saturday I spent a total of about 3 hours cleaning Bo and Avee's room. Bo's room was recently "remodeled" into a clubhouse, and upon quick surveying, actually looked pretty clean. Then I lifted blankets, opened closets, looked under beds....it was ridiculous. The kid's a disappearing artist with clutter! Then Avee's room; she doesn't have a closed in closet, so no ability to hide all her sins in there. She drapes her clean clothes over the bar though. I told her that's not how clothes are hung up (she's been harangued in the past for stashing clothes under mattresses, in dark corners, and pieces of clothing are missing for months) and she gets big eyes, tilts her head, her mouth sets, disapproving of my disapproval and she says, "They aren't on the floor, they are hanging and they are on the bar, that's what you said I had to do, that's what I did."

I have already said, "That's just semantics, Avee" several times in the last couple of months, about other things. She's five. I say that to my five year old. And I'm totally serious when I do it. She has the ability to throw my words back at me like no one I've ever met.

I got a couple of other gems from that hour plus of cleaning. She responded to something I asked her with air quotes. It didn't even make sense, what she said, but the air quotes were all that mattered. Then, about an hour into sorting and organizing, I started griping again about how unacceptable it was that her room was this messy. She responded, "I know, right?"
Totally shut me up. Cute always wins over gripey.

Bo has been enjoying an acting class for the last several weeks. Next week he has his showcase play. His character is a karate fighter named Fabio. The teacher let everyone pick their character, and then she wrote a play around it. I'm kind of anticipating a slow motion train wreck, so I'm really looking forward to it.

His sense of humor is so enjoyable. We listen to Veggie Tales a lot in the car and Bo is just starting to really get some of the more adult humor they throw into their songs. I love it.

He got really, really sick two weeks ago. He missed a week of school and probably would have missed the following Monday, but it was a holiday. Your heart aches for your children when they are so miserable, but his miserable is borderline hilarious. He couldn't talk without crying so he cried about things like, the air, cream cheese, pillows with fringes, etc. Then I'd dose him up with Advil and 25 minutes later he'd be telling jokes in bad accents. He still only operated at about 70% while medicated, but the difference was remarkable.

One of the days he was sick, I just really thought he should be on the mend and we ran a few errands. He was not one ounce better from Monday morning when he got sick, until Sunday morning when he woke up. I just didn't expect him to stay that sick for that long. Anyway, as we were running errands he mentioned that it would be funny if someone was named T. I told him I had a friend named Traci and her nickname was T. He then thought that she should run races so people could cheer for her, "Go T, go T!" It actually took me a second to get it. But, I did have a little hint with the eraser cap. He kept it there for about two hours. I love that he's comfortable being weird in public. Am I the only parent that feels that way? I wonder.

When he was in preschool and refused to wear gray pants because they weren't a cool enough color, it kind of made me sad. Funny thing is, I kind of get it now. Gray really isn't that great of a color.

School is going great for me. A lot of work, but J is a super awesome support and I'm an exceptional procrastinator. I love being in school though.

Danyo is the cutest little cutey patootey with the shortest temper and meanest mouth. It would be funny if it wasn't such a problem. He's finally learned to say "I hate when you do that" because "I hate you" hadn't worked out for him so well. We'll work on the word hate maybe when he's four. It actually drives me crazy because he likes to be right up in my grill when he throws his fits. And he's also completely shocked when he gets in trouble, like I just came out of left field or something. I kind of vaguely remember Avee and Bo being somewhat impossible at this age, so I'm hoping it will pass soon. He loves his little preschool and loves me the best, except when I make him take naps, eat his vegetables, put on a coat, and find underwear. Then he doesn't like me AT. ALL.

Most days I can handle his short-temper, but when Avee gangs up on me about my disciplining him, that's when I get exhausted. The other day she said to me with big tears in her eyes, "You just don't know what it's like to be yelled at by you!" Um, compelling? Yes. I spent the 10 minute drive to school defending my need to teach Danyo how to behave properly. Most of my best arguments were met with, "Whatevoh Mom" and "Uh, Mom, he's three." I wouldn't say I convinced her much. I'd never say that, actually.

PSA

2011-02-18T19:55:00.000-06:00

Hi y'all. Time for another friendly reminder. If you have a link to my blog please don't use our real names. There are plenty of things I'm pretty open about on this blog but I make a concerted effort to keep some things off of here. I don't want the combination of mine and my husband's name to be something anyone can google, and get to here, and don't want my kids names on here either. It's all good if you already know them, no secret----just don't want any of it on the internet.

Thanks!

School Work

2011-02-15T13:19:00.010-06:00

So, the requests for my mom's recipe did not fall on deaf ears. I just have to talk to my mom about that, and completely figure out what's in it for me, before I do anything. :)

You know, we moved across town in October. The school that the kids were in had a reputation of being one of the better schools, and my biggest issue with the school (the principal) was gone, so I was eager to see how this year panned out. Well, when we went to go switch schools after the move, I just couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger. I have a more annoying commute, have to leave home 15 minutes earlier, and the drive up there and back 2, 3, sometimes 4 times a day gets to me sometimes, but I couldn't pull the trigger for a good reason. The kids both have great teachers this year. I just couldn't bring myself to mess with that.

I could put Avee's teacher in my bag and take her home with me. I LOVE her. She's perfect for Avee, but she's also just a genuinely likable person. One of my favorite things about her is, she's funnier than me. And she's just this cute little thing, but totally sassy. I don't know why I think cute and sassy are mutually exclusive though. I do live with Avee.

Bo's teacher is new this year, to the school. She's been teaching for many years. I know she knew she came into the school with a lot of people watching her every move. That's gotta be nerve wracking. I love her. She's perfect for Bo. For no other reason than, she gets him. There are a lot of things I'd like and hope for in a teacher, but for Bo, that is the most important thing for me. He's actually been quite lucky, I think all of his teachers have "gotten" him. But, in a world where 7 year olds are very obnoxious (the world I live in right now), and funny looking, and trying so hard to figure things out---she gets all that and is kind and forgiving and understanding, and not overly punitive, but is also no nonsense when it's necessary.

One of my favorite parts about having a child in Kindergarten, is the work they bring home. I get a good chuckle or two at LEAST once or twice a week.

I've scanned in some stuff that has recently made me smile....and also prove just why I made the right choice in letting my children have these teachers this year.
This first one was Avee's homework assignment to write her teacher a letter stating what she loved best about her class. I love that this assignment opened up so many options of hilarity. And it was good writing practice.
I love love LOVE that she identified who the letter was from, right off the bat, and why she was writing--as though she thought I was making the assignment up and she wanted to make sure Mrs. D didn't think she was a weirdo writing her a letter. This was probably the longest letter Mrs. D got. I did help with spelling, but the content was totally Avee's doing.

Recently we've gotten a couple of things home from school stating her desire or love of "citins". This particular one I enjoyed. Beside the fact, this girl is an artist, it's just a funny idea to me. Avee always surprises me a little with her worldview or her grasp on things that show clear intellect where I assumed there wasn't any. I mentioned to her that "citins" grow up to be cats, so they don't stay cute babies forever. She countered, "Yes, but if they are taking the place of snow, they will stay citins forever, because snow doesn't grow, so they wouldn't." It took me two days to figure out her logic, because let's face it, she didn't state it THAT articulately. The child is brilliant. She gets it from me.

This one was on a torn sheet of paper. When I pulled it from his folder, I assumed he tore it AFTER he used it for his test. I was amused and a little disconcerted that he did not. But I love how she states her expectation simply, in a positive request (do you know how hard that can be, to try and eliminate the word "don't" when dealing with children?) doesn't make a drama of it, and even gives him a cute smiley face. I think this lack of drama over what is basically obnoxious 7 year old behavior is awesome. Plus, she totally appreciates my little white-boy, snaggle-toothed, kid's smack talk.

Mostly I just like this one because it reminds me of J. Avee's a wiley little manipulator who marches to the beat of her own drum and is me in so many ways as a result. When J comes shining through like this, I really love it. One of J's favorite quotes is from a Seinfeld episode when Jerry says something like, "My entire childhood can be summed up in one sentence, 'I want candy' " or something like that. I will extol the virtues of chocolate and the wonders it can/will do for me and everything I love and why and how and when, but Avee and J it's, "I like cake". It basically all means the same thing.

Mom's Cookies

2011-02-07T09:21:00.002-06:00

My mom makes these cookies. They are hard to describe. They are homemade. Of that, there is no doubt. I'm pretty sure the ingredients vary batch to batch. They have oatmeal, raisins, chocolate chips, some sort of weird health-nut product like bone meal or lecithin, or both, sometimes shredded carrots, sunflower seeds, ummmmmm....there's lots of stuff. They are super healthy, super filling, and somewhat mysterious, in my opinion. They are well-loved. Personally, I'm a fan of the processed, teeth-rotting, artery clogging, simple chocolate chip cookie---but most of my family, and almost any friend who's had these cookies my mom makes, LOVES them.

When I was 14ish, I took piano lessons from a local concert pianist. My mom made a rookie mistake in assuming that a concert pianist would be a good piano teacher. He was not. But, it was still a good experience, and I still learned, so all was not lost. He was a little....off. Aside from sleeping through most of my lessons, and accusing me of being on drugs during one entire lesson, he was just different. One night he stopped at my parent's house and led himself into the kitchen and plopped down. There were bananas on the table and he voraciously ate two of them without pause. Then he spotted my mom's cookies in a bag on the table. An old bread bag, that's what she kept them in. She could freeze a batch to get us through Armageddon, if the need arose.

He sat upright suddenly and pointed at the bag, "are those your mom's bars, trail mix, cookies...is that what I think it is in that bag?"

I said that it was. He frantically reached in his pocket and threw four dollar bills on the table. Now, keep in mind, this was around 1990, so this was like he threw six dollars and forty cents on the table! "I'll give you all the money in my pocket for just one of those cookies!" I burst out laughing. Then quickly squelched it because he was my teacher and he wasn't trying to be funny. I thought it odd that the bananas didn't even get acknowledged as they were wolfed down, but the cookies were paid for, in cash.

That's how awesome my mom's cookies are.

Bo can't stop talking about them. He was introduced to them probably two years ago. Sometimes when we visit, Grandma gives Bo his own little cottage cheese container of cookies. He doesn't share, and he gobbles them up in no time. He canNOT stop talking about them. He knows they are good for him because even Grandma's "candy bars are actually just health bars" and she doesn't cook with white sugar and she would never give him that much of something that wasn't good for him. But it's "just so crazy, because they taste sooooo good too!"

I don't share Bo's sentiments. Or Mr. Piano Teacher's. But I hope my mom writes down "the" recipe before she kicks the cottage cheese container. Because some things need to live forever.

Groundhog's Day Forever!

2011-02-02T20:50:00.004-06:00

I was being cavalier about bedtime because it was a snow day and tomorrow is another. At 8:30 Avee came and asked if it could be bedtime yet. I do not know this child. Well, I know her, because she's always been my little sleeper, but I do not know where she came from. Certainly not me. I was always afraid of whatever party I might miss out on if I had to sleep. Bo's the same way. When I told Avee it could be bedtime right now and she passed the word on to him, he said, "I'll go when it's Mom's idea, not yours." See, I get that.

We got a lot of snow. It's so beautiful. Of course, I didn't have to spend nearly an hour and a half digging the driveway and road out to drive somewhere, so I still think it's beautiful.

I got some kind of stomach bug. I never get the stomach bug. Ever. It's been relatively mild, but it sure came at a perfect time for me to milk it. My classes were canceled because of the weather yesterday and J couldn't really even get out to go to work today, so I took the opportunity to lay in bed and complain.

This evening while I was laying in bed, Daniel came up to me very closely and said, "What's on your mind, Monkeybutt?" I am constantly asking my kids "where did you hear/learn/see that" when they say or do things because I just don't get how they come up with some of it. Like tonight when Bo finished something he was proud of and vainly shouted, "Wouldja look at that!? You just can't teach that!!" Of course, my kids claim sole proprietorship over all these clever, funny, amusing things they say and do. They may be liars, but they're funny!

I started compiling my blog posts into a book. I've only gotten six months into 5 years of blogging and I'm totally overwhelmed. The main reason I'm even doing this is because every other conversation I have with my mom, she asks me if I have a hard copy of my posts. When I say no, she goes into cardiac arrest. Then she takes a puff of her inhaler and comes through. But really, I should just stop cutting it so close with her. I'm trying, but it's a hard job when you are as wordy as me, cheap, and have ADD. Bad combination for making a blog book.

My dad celebrated his 77th birthday a couple of weeks ago. I bought him this hilarious card a couple of years ago and always forgot to send it, so this year I was determined to remember. It has three older men walking along the beach and one says, "It sure is windy" and another says, "No, it's Thursday" and the third says, "Me too, let's go get a drink!" and then says something about spending his day with people who understand him. Every person in my family has had a conversation like that with my dad, only, with him saying all the parts incorrectly. I used to particularly enjoy, as a young teenager, being scoffed at by my mostly deaf father, "What do you mean the refrigerator is having an affair on Joe? That doesn't even make any sense!!!" Um, yes, yes, you got that part right, it doesn't make any sense, Dad.

Anyway, Bo included a card, after a couple of weeks of watching a Jackie Chan cartoon regularly. It said on the outside, "Have a terrible birthday" and on the inside it said, "It's oposite day, Hate: Bo" Then there was some sort of swirly circle (most certainly some symbol of Chinese magic) on the other side with the promise that "you and only you can put your finger in the center to unlock the power..." or something to that effect. The power to have a great birthday, I believe.

As I folded it inside of my card and dropped it into the mailbox, I hesitated slightly. I thought of calling my dad to sort of brace him. I just don't know how well received Bo's little seven year old "humor" and "creativity" would be. I could see my dad getting a big kick out of it, and I could see my dad being truly concerned for Bo's troubled little soul.

I never heard anything, so I figured it wasn't a big deal. Yesterday Grandma called for Bo. "Bo, I can't get Grandpa to stop laughing." Bo says, "What do you want me to do about that?" He was asking sincerely. She said when Grandpa first saw the card he was a little shocked and disconcerted, and since opening it, he hasn't stopped laughing. Bo suggested she tell him a joke so he laughs so hard he can't laugh anymore, or tell him a sad story, to get him to stop laughing. Grandma said no, she wasn't that interested.

I love how my mom talks to my kids. It's like how she used to talk to me as a child, but without the threats.

Favorites

2011-01-18T14:54:00.003-06:00

My favorites parts of today:

My friend showed up today with one of the cutest bags ever, filled with goodies for school. Folders, dividers, notecards, highlighters, hand sanitizer, gum, chocolate....what more could a girl want!?

I emailed J and told him I was pretty sure my love language was gifts (this gift bag made my day), and words of adoration, physical affection, and lots of lots of time and attention. And that it shouldn't be hard to make me happy with that knowledge.

Later, I was headed upstairs to take a shower. Danyo was sitting at the counter in front of a giant cake, left over from our MLK celebration, and a bowl full of ganache. Really yummy ganache too.

I'm not sure why the scenario didn't click in my mind, but I said, "I'm going to take a shower Danyo, I'll be back in a few minutes!"

While I was upstairs getting my towel and clothes, I spotted my Blackberry on the ground and I thought I should charge it in case lectures are boring tonight and I want to listen to Pink instead. So, I ran downstairs to charge it.

Danyo started when I walked into the kitchen, a rim of chocolate around his mouth, a spoonful of ganache in his hand, and he said accusatorily, "You said you were taking a shower! Why aren't you in the shower!"

It was so funny to me, I left him to the ganache and went back upstairs.

Good luck with him and the broccoli tonight J! You're welcome!

Viral Assistant

2011-01-10T19:09:00.003-06:00

This morning on the way to school Bo and Avee were reminiscing on the old days, back when they had chicken pox. They of course don't really remember it (Avee was 18 months) but they've seen pictures and think they remember it. Avee referred to a rash Bo recently had and how they mistakenly thought it was chicken pox. Bo said Dad told them pox were bigger and more red. So he concluded that what he had was basically "an assistant chicken pox".

Danyo is obsessed with Weird Al right now. He can quote the entire first scene from his "Fat" video, but claims his favorite part is, "Ding dong man, ding dong!"

Today in the middle of preschool at our house, he was suddenly done and wanted to watch, "So-jin". You know, like a so-jin, cuttin' for the very fohst time....

I was so very glad that the first week of preschool was at my house so that the other nice girls I go to church with didn't have to hear my 3 year old singing to the tune of "Like a Virgin". And dancing like Weird Al imitating Madonna. It's all just very wrong. And funny.

Why can't my kids be obsessed with Star Wars or something?

I started doing a little preschool co-op this week with 4 other little 3 year olds. They are all so very cute. Darling little three year olds all excited to be in preschool, to learn, to have backpacks.

Except my little schnookums. It seems this preschool business has interrupted his television watching time. He'd like to not have it on Wednesday. This makes me so proud.

Bo had his first wrestling tournament this weekend. He gave a good ralley, but didn't beat anyone. This was very hard for him. He got a 4th place trophy, which is basically just an insult to him. What happened to "you didn't win, sorry, you don't get anything"? Avee and Danyo are insanely jealous of the little 4th place trophy but Bo is annoyed at the insult of it.

I think that's pretty much all I have to say.

This Post is NOT About Cher

2011-01-05T20:00:00.004-06:00

Well, it's almost time for my classes to begin. I'm really REALLY excited to start, which is the biggest indication to me that it's been a good decision to move forward on this. I tend to sort of go through life in either an aimless wander or duck and cover type position. That's how I applied to grad school. I was a little disappointed however, when I went to Walmerts yesterday to get my school supplies and there were no lists posted on what I'd need. I'm going to have to go to the Walmerts closer to the University and see if it's posted there. Either that or email all my professors to ask what I should bring. Or just show up with my trapperkeeper. Honestly, what more could you need? J says all I need to be successful in school is a small stapler. That's what all the smart kids have. We'll see. I just might break that mold. I will carry my three hole punch with me. I mean, there are necessities, and then there are necessities.

I'm going to try really hard to not be the person in class who talks about her kids nonstop and how the youngest did a poo poo in the potty finally, etc, etc. Although, today when Danyo went for day two of his new profound rebuttal, "You say no, and I say yes!" to anything I won't let him have or do, I thought that could be really good route to take in my college career. "You say C- and I say A+!" I don't think my red hair and chubby cheeks will have the same effect though. Too bad.

Tonight as I was putting Danyo to bed I reminded him to please not get in our bed at night. But whyyyyyyyyyy? He asked, so diplomatically. I answered with equal diplomacy, "Because it's my bed, not yours." He got his adorable little pouty, entreating face and started to work his magic. But the memory of him trying to snuggle my clavicle and kicking my kidneys was fresh in my mind and I stuck to my guns. "I don't want you to get in my bed, it's my bed, you have your own, you stay in your bed. If you don't want to sleep in your bed, then you can sleep on the floor and we'll give your bed to someone who will stay in it. I don't want you in my bed, all up in my grill all night long again." He countered, "You don't have a grill Mom. Dad does. It's in the garage."

I always seem to find myself on the losing end of arguments with these kids.

I got an adorable phone call from my mom the other day. She said that my brother had posted a video of my nephew on youtube and it was so darling and she wanted me to see it. But I needed to hurry because it was quickly moving down the page on Youtube, and it probably wasn't going to be there much longer. I think I've laughed about this probably 8 times since. It's just a perfect little dish from the recipe of a 75 year old who's internet savvy. Ish.

Ooooooooh. That rhymed.

We made some goals the other day as a family. Avee's were to be kind and choose the right, Danyo's was to watch Dora when we were done and take his bitamins with water, everyday, Ben's were to watch all the amazing kid's movies ever made and become a karate expert. One's my kid, one's J's and one's a mixture of us.

I'm madly in love with my Avee right now. She's so blasted sweet and good. I know this too shall pass, but I sure love it. I particularly love when she scolds one of the boys, after the manner of her mother. "If I see your shoes in the hallway one more time Bo, I will put them in the trash". It's like, a perverse version of me. I make that threat about useless crap they leave laying around, not shoes. Still. I love it. Bo appreciates it for the cuteness that it is, which I'm glad about. He could get annoyed at her bossy-ness, but mostly he realizes she's imitating me and it's cute.

The other day she reported to me that while she was in the bathroom she said some rather uncouth words. I remember specifically that "butt" was one of them. I listened to her confession and then reminded her that those aren't words we really need to be using. She looked at me, both shocked and indignant that I would say this to her. I looked back at her, standing my ground. She then reminded me, "I went to the bathroom to say these words, Mom!"

I realized that the "while she was in the bathroom" part of the story was an important detail. She had apparently had the urge to use "potty talk" and went to the bathroom to do it, and for no other reason than to say those words. Tell me that's not a sweet little obedient imp?

Bo has started acting classes. The rest of this month will be a crazy one for him as he finishes out wrestling and continues his acting class. He's actually gotten quite a bit better with the wrestling and I've finally conceded to let him go to a tournament. They have them all over, and you have to pay extra for them, and I believe they are verrrrrry long and drawn out. So, I was none to excited to voluntarily go to one. But he's really worked hard, and at practices he really pushes himself, pays attention, and does everything he's asked to do. Now I would like to reward him with a great big cheap, gaudy trophy. Don't worry, if he doesn't place, we'll just go to the trophy store and get one. I don't believe in my children ever having to suffer disappointment.

There's a really obnoxious kid at wrestling who thinks he knows everything and he doesn't listen to the coaches AT.ALL and he tries to trip kids when they are running laps, slaps at kids when they are trying to practice legitimate moves, and is an overall annoying little brat. Well, no one will work with him now because at this point, only the kids who really want to learn are still showing up, and he's just impossible to work with.

I watched him get thrown and slammed about 17 times tonight. I might be a little sick and twisted that it was very fun for me to watch. He charged partner after partner after partner like it was some kind of cage fighting tournament. I watched several kids turn, catch his upper body and just fling him. I saw him feign injury about 5 times. As soon as the other kid believes he's actually hurt, he lunges and tackles them. He approached Bo at one point and I just yelled out, "Nope, move along!" Bo would have maimed him and I just didn't want that on my conscience. Bo has a pretty strong sense of justice, combined with an appetite for revenge, it could have gotten ugly really fast.

Wow. I just typed two paragraphs about an annoying kid at Bo's wrestling practices. I think I may have hit an all new low. AND, I'm not going to delete it.

J's home. We have a hot date of popsicles (Chunks o' Fruit, thank you very much KB) and Easy A. Awesomeness abounds here.

Peace Out!
p.s. If you have any advice or tips or ideas on stuff I'll need for grad school, you know, for when my kids' mom goes to college---tell me. I didn't feel like I'd feel so out of the loop, but I do!

All Kin'a Holiday Fun

2010-12-29T14:12:00.003-06:00

So, as some of you may know, J has been trying to grow his hair out for some time. I blogged about it here and meant to post pictures but uh, yeah---I didn't.

Anyway, it hasn't really panned out. He just doesn't have the Fabio type hair, and it was taking FOOOOOOOREEEEEEEVER.

I started nagging him a couple of weeks ago to get it cut because I just didn't like it most of the time. It bugged him too.

So he finally threw in the towel and let me cut it last night. I've honed my clipper skills in the last several months, practicing on Bo and Danyo-- so I was more confident going into it than I have been in a long time.

AND

I gave him a rattail. It was awesome. And by awesome, I mean, 1985 cried at the beauty of it.

But that's not the best part. I didn't tell him I was doing it. I kept waiting for him to say he felt something on his neck still, or feel me pulling on it as I tried to trim around it. We were watching our friends' kids and I was dying for them to come back so they could see my work of art before he busted me. I finished before they came back, and he took a shower. I was sure he'd come down from his shower, laughing and call me out on it. He did not. All the while, I could not stop laughing and several times I had to play it off as something else making me laugh.

Finally our friends arrived and I had her check out J's haircut. She looked at it and was telling me I did a good job and suddenly saw the rattail and started laughing right out loud. That's when J got nervous. He said, "Why are there two women laughing about my hair!?"

I totally figured he'd think I was hilarious and awesome at the same time and I thought he'd at least humor me for two days and leave it on, since he didn't have to go to work and there are TONS of people here who could enjoy it for those two days. But he made me take it off right away. Party pooper.

Plus, he says he trusts me about 26% less now.
:(

However, for THIS----I have pictures.
You are welcome.
These were all taken before he knew, and with our flip camera, so they aren't the greatest quality pictures. But really, a rattail in and of itself is all the quality these photos need.

Things My Kids Say

2010-12-22T10:07:00.004-06:00

We continued our copied tradition of elves leaving little gifts for the kids in their stockings, 12 days before Christmas. Combine a late night, ~~Mom's~~ er...Elves' forgetfulness, and a slightly messy house in which Mom decides it's okay for the kids to learn a little lesson, they did not get a treat left in their stocking one night. I'm always curious about how much Danyo takes in on things. He is very....weird when it comes to communicating some things. A very classic conversation with him, "Did you put that stool on your bed?"
"Yes"
"For what?"
"Because I did."
"I know you did, what did you use it for?"
"Because I can."

ad nauseum

So, I was surprised and delighted to hear him grumble to me, "Those stupid elves didn't leave anysing in my stocking."

This morning Avee was straightening up her room post-friend-over-tornado and I peeked my head in to check on it. She had done a spectacular job but there were little pieces of sequins and glitter all over her floor that hadn't been before.

"Avee! Why is that all over the floor!?"
"Oh, I put it there, it's glitter. I wanted my room to be sparkly clean."

And I'mmmmm out.

Bo has been enlightened about Christmas this year. I have to admit, I wasn't sure it would be this soon, and I thought I'd be sad about him not getting worked up about Santa and writing letters, but it's been fun in its own way to be open with him. He's very funny. Reminding me of things we can and cannot talk about. I think I need to document why exactly he knows at 7. He's definitely been suspicious for several months and I just always said, "What do you think?" And in every conversation, he wasn't quite ready to give it up yet.
Then about a month ago we were at our friends house and I caught Bo holding their five year old's arms behind his back, like he was arrested, and demanding, "Give me three good reasons why Santa is real!" I realized he was taking a page from J's book, (Give me three good reasons why I should let you watch this Pokemon show) and adding a little of Bully Bo to it. I snatched him up quickly and took him to another room and scolded him about strong arming a younger kid (the two of them wrestle all the time and either Liam always smiles, or he really doesn't mind) and said, "Santa isn't real, but it is NOT your job to tell other people and the second you tell another child who believes, is the second you stop getting presents."

"I knew it! I KNEW it!!" That was his response. I think later he felt some sadness at the loss of Santa, but told me, it was all good because the presents still come, and if you think about it, it's pretty obvious Santa is make-believe.

Later when I asked him what he wanted for Christmas he told me he'd like the costume for the "Hide yo kids, hide yo wives" guy. I told him he was never getting that and that Dad needed to stop watching stuff like that with him. He said, never. I figured as much.

Contusions and Tattling

2010-12-12T20:48:00.000-06:00

We just got back from a lovely visit to Missouri. I've been working on a book for my mom for some time now, and finally got to give her the completed project. J had taken the week off from work, so we capitalized on his time off with a quick trip. The kids missed three days of school. I hope they don't flunk out now.

Bo fell last week playing in our first snow. He complained it hurt, but I looked at his leg, and he seemed okay the next day. 5 days later, while in Missouri, I noticed him limping pretty considerably. I looked at his leg and it was swollen. I of course, started feeling like the world's greatest mom, sure that it was fractured and I hadn't noticed for 5 days. I took him to the doctor Thursday morning and nothing was found in the x-ray. He still limps quite a bit. The good news is, even if it was fractured, they wouldn't cast it because it's the fibula, non-weight bearing bone. I hope that's true because it's given me peace of mind if they haven't caught a fracture in the x-ray. Avee had about 7 x-rays before a specialist caught her spiral fracture nearly 3 weeks after she fractured her leg.

If hurting your leg was a crime, Bo would be on world's dumbest criminals. Twice, TWICE I had to make him get off the treadmill, after getting the speed up to 9, trying to get to 10. See what I mean? There ain't no nice spin on that business. My brother actually video-taped one of them and wouldn't let me see it because it was "abuse". It was ridiculous. Pain is nothing in the face of a challenge. Nutty little boy.

He has also managed to give himself another fantastic chap-stache, several weeks ago. I have been harrassing him almost nonstop for the last 3 weeks. We've gone through a couple of tubes of chapstick and three different revolutionary medicinal lip balm. He just can't stop. So, anyone who's been around the two of us for more than 8 minutes, is well aware of this battle with his chap-stache.

Fast forward to last night as we were driving home from the bowling alley. I noticed that Bo had just not really tried to be careful on his leg, and that his limping had become dramatically worse throughout the day. So I mentioned to J that we should try to immobilize his leg somehow so that he'd be forced to take it easy. Bo was asking what immobilize meant and if we could get started on it right away.

Then Avee stepped in. She is going through a tattle phase. It's hilarious to me, at the same time that it's annoying. She tattles about EVERYTHING. And they are detailed and accurate and long-winded. I respond to all of them with, "Did you tell him how you felt about that?" or "Are you tattling right now?" She responds with, "I don't want to tell him how I feel, I want to tell you about it." or "I'm not tattling, I'm just telling you what happened."

As we are talking about Bo's leg immobilization, Avee says, "Moooom, last night I saw Bo going up the stairs, RUNNING, on his sore leg AND doing that thing with his lips that makes them chapped!"

J and I burst out laughing. She nailed that boy in one swift tattle. It's probably my favorite thing she's said in a week.

This Probably Won't Make You Laugh MAG. :)

2010-12-03T15:24:00.003-06:00

There have been times in my life when I felt like I couldn't go on for a second more. Like my heart couldn't bear anymore, the future seemed like dark oblivion I didn't want to be a part of, the sadness was overwhelming.

And then,

my heart kept beating. My breath kept coming. I would wake up in the morning, a survivor of whatever I had faced the day before. Probably to face more, but I had survived once already.

I'm not going through anything like that right now, but I've been thinking a lot about these times in my life. When it seems life went on, with or without my consent.

I look back on some of those moments and sometimes feel a little sheepish. Like the time when I was 16 and the boy I thought I loved, didn't love me back. Or when I was 24 and unmarried, living in a state where the average age of marriage was about 12.9 years old. It felt so big and so real at the time, but with time and perspective, I see how silly it all really was.

And then the times when I felt like I couldn't face another moment with the sorrow or the complete unknown, and the hand I had been dealt was simply more than I was equipped to bear. Those moments where the weight of it all made me crumple to my knees, and the anguish could only find voice in pleadings for relief.

Looking back in my life, I see the lights of those moments shining back at me. Today it struck me that I see, in my mind's eye, these moments as lights and not dark blots of history I'd like wiped from my past.

Because those periods of my life---changed me. From the inside out. Like a mental metamorphosis, I came out different. Better. I have days where I wonder what the heck I'm doing and why anybody takes me seriously at all. Days when I wish I never gotten married because marriage isn't a passive thing and takes work. Or days when I shouldn't be allowed to be a mom. Days when I wonder why anyone even bothers with me at all.

Those days end though. Just like the days where I feel like I can do anything and I'm the most awesome person anyone has ever had the pleasure of encountering. They all end.

And the husband I feel too lazy to be married to comes home and says, "Talk to me, I want to connect with you" and a friend calls and says, "I've got 10 gallons of milk, do you want any?"
and I realize at some point in the evening that my kids are going to turn out okay and make mistakes whether I lecture them all day or not. And I'd rather not lecture all day.

Life goes on.

Today, I'm in charge of the direction it's going. I'm open, I'm available, I'm kind, I'm hard-working, I love, I matter, I need, I falter, I roll my eyes, I laugh out loud, I am shallow, I am profound, I am trying.

Conversations In The Car. With Avee

2010-11-21T12:40:00.003-06:00

Avee: How on oth does Santa come down people's chimney without getting all dohty?!
Me: What makes you think he gets dirty?
Avee: I just figyo-ed. Chimneys are filthy. And why don't you know if he' dohty or not?
Me: I've never seen him come down a chimney. Maybe it's magic!
Avee: There is no such thing as magic.

Avee: Can we make chocolate chip cookies today?
Me: Yes! We'll have to do it right away because I work tonight.
Avee: No! Don't go to work! Stay home!
Me: I know, I'd like to stay home, but I have to go.
Avee: Okay, fine. Then go to work naked so you'll get fired.

Me: I sure love those freckles on your nose.
Avee: I sho love the fat on your body.
Me: Seriously Avee, why do you say that.
Avee: Because I do!!
Me: Why do you love it so much?
Avee: Because you look good.
Me: Yeah, that's right.

It Ain't Over

2010-11-17T23:45:00.006-06:00

I just had a random memory pop into my head that made me laugh out loud. Now I feel compelled to record it.

When I was in my early twenties, I went to school in the northern part of Utah, and my older sister who had three little girls, lived an hour and a half away in Salt Lake City. My sister's home was always open to me. ALWAYS. And I traipsed through there with dozens of friends over the two years I went to school there. Always comfortable, always accommodating.

But even if it wasn't, I was madly in love with my three nieces and would regularly run away from my "real life" in college, to spend weekends with them. I'm still madly in love with them, but they's all growed up and I'm not the most awesome person they ever knew anymore. Oh yeah, and they live in England. Brats.

Anyway.

One weekend I was down there and saw in the paper an advertisement that a local school was performing Phantom of the Opera. I loved the show when I saw it in Oakland when I was 19 and I thought my 9 year old niece would enjoy it as well. I cleared it with my sister, made arrangements, and came back down the weekend of the performance. My friend T and I, all hyped up to see an $8 performance of Phantom, jumped in the car with Katherine and took off to the nearby high school.

We were immediately concerned when we walked into a makeshift theater, which doubled as a cafeteria and possibly a woodworking classroom. There were about 30 seats set out for the audience, and we were the first to fill them. I think probably 8-12 more people joined us before the show started.

It was nothing like the actual show. It wasn't even the same story-line that I could tell. We tried desperately to follow it, and rid our minds of our expectations and just enjoy the show. But it was impossible. The acting was much like my three year old trying to convince me he's not hiding anything behind his back. The acoustics were abominable. The storyline dreadful. AND it wasn't a musical either. No one was singing anything.

About 15 minutes in, it was painfully obvious that I had made a huge mistake. I don't remember when or where or why exactly, but T and I lost it. Probably more than once, we were laughing hysterically, trying to go unnoticed. Being two of 12 people in a cafeterwoodshopeater, it was difficult to be unnoticed. I remember Katherine laughing along with us, the ridiculous of my mistake, not lost on her. She was a relatively serious child, so this was particularly amusing to me.

We wanted to leave. We desperately wanted to salvage what was left of the night; but I just couldn't see us leaving without being horribly rude.

Katherine kept persisting, "When can we leave? How much longer do we have to stay? When will this be over?"

T, always with the quick wit, said, "I'm sorry, but this ain't over til the fat lady sings." We both thought that was so funny, because there was a very large actress on the stage, but there was absolutely no singing going on.

Then. The very very large girl started singing. It was totally out of nowhere and of all the characters who could suddenly turn the play into a musical, it was her!

It was then that my sweet, serious little 9 year old niece reached for her coat on the back of her chair and said, "So, we can go now?"

The only reason I know that T and I didn't die laughing that night, is because I'm typing this now.

I love my sweet little serious Katherine. She's still sweet, but now she's 6'2" and only serious when she has to be.

I Love You Too

2010-11-16T21:54:00.003-06:00

Motherhood has brought me to an all new low.

Danyo is my little routine boy. In addition to that, he is also a little OCD. Do something once a certain way, and it becomes law for him.

One of those is his nap time routine. I "taco" him with his blanket, I say I love you, I pause at the door and he says "I love you too."

Wellllllllll....

Yesterday I missed my window of opportunity and he was just ridiculous from being tired. He was screaming, crying, yelling, slamming things, etc. So I carried him upstairs and tried to keep my cool in the midst of insanity.

He never stopped crying and screaming. And if Rational could have stepped in for a second and he had been silent, I am certain he would not be able to tell you why he was so mad. But he was mad.

I tucked him in, I said I love you, he screamed, "I LOVE YOU TOOOOOOO!" and I kind of giggled and closed his door. He kept screaming. I opened the door and said, "Why are you still yelling?" He screamed, "I SAID I LOVE YOU TOO MOM!!!!"

"I know Danyo, I heard you. Thank you."
"THANK YOU!!!!"
"Night night."
"I LOVE YOU TOOOOOOOOOO!"
"And I love you."
"THANK YOU!!!!"

I closed the door, still amused, more than annoyed.

He wouldn't stop screaming. "I SAID I LOVE YOU TOO! THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!"

I stuck my head in and told him to be quiet or I was taking his blanket from him.

He couldn't hear my threats because he wouldn't stop screaming. "I SAID THANK YOU!!!!!!"

I wasn't amused anymore.

I closed the door and tried to ignore.

After a minute of screaming he came flying out of his room in a rage. "MOM I SAID I LOVE YOU TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I came around the corner and he bolted back into his bed, all the while still screaming. "I SAID THANK YOU!!!!!!!!"

He could not be reasoned with. He would not stop crying and screaming. I couldn't even get a word in to calm him.

So I said the most logical, sensible words I have ever uttered:
"If you say, 'I love you too' or 'thank you' one more time, I will spank your little bottom!"

Pretty sure that was my finest hour.

Some Footage

2010-11-13T11:49:00.002-06:00

For Alicia:
In my wildest dreams, I never imagined...
I was upstairs and Bo came to the landing on the stairs, saying this. Of course I couldn't believe my ears and had to record it. He found this on "Best of Chris Farley". It's in his blood....

And this is about 6 weeks old, but begs to be shared.

I Say A Prayer At Eleven Eleven

2010-11-11T18:50:00.000-06:00

Right now I'm on the internets talking to my darling niece. We are TALKING. With Google chat. It's awesome. She sounds more English than she ever has, it's pretty cute. I love that we can talk in real life, for free. Thank you Mr. Google. The best part is, she's kind of acting like my mom with the internet and I get to hear it. "Is my browser going to restart by itself?" I love it.

Life has been "normal" for about a week or so. It's nice to be back to normalcy, but I miss the "high" from my retreat. I told my cousin yesterday that I was old Nobody with just a memory of the reformed Nobody. *Sigh*

I put Bo in wrestling. He's wanted to wrestle since...well, basically since the womb. I have never been able to find something for little kids. He brought home a flyer and I signed him up for it. He LOVES it. I went dressed like a total bum and may have been overdressed. Avee went with us the first night, in hopes that it was coed wrestling. If she wasn't so insistent on fitting in and not standing out, I bet she'd join the boys and wrestle with the best of them. She was disappointed to be the only girl there. There were about 5 boys from her Kindergarten there, and I watched at least three of them strutting for her. One adorable one came up and said, "Wanna see me take someone down!?" It was really cute. Another one there is the little boy who called across the cafeteria to me, "Aw you Avee's Mom!?" When I said I was he happily volunteered, "Oh! Well, I'm ho gowfwiend!" Avee thought that was SO funny.

As it turns out my little, "I'm the boss, we do it my way, I will rearrange the entire Gregorian calendar to make myself a year older and not be lying, I can do it myself" princess, does NOT like to stand out. Her teacher noted that when she was being celebrated for knowing how to count to 100, she was very uncomfortable. And when I went to have lunch with her, she told me to stop coming. She just doesn't like extra attention. WHO'S CHILD IS THIS!!!! I HAVE A BLOG FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!!!

So anyway. We watched Bo get thrown to the mat repeatedly, and jump back up happy as he's ever been, looking for more. I love seeing him love something so much. The best part about that evening for me, was when Avee told Bo on the way there that she would give him a piece of candy for every kid he successfully beat up. Unclear on what wrestling meant, she still tapped into the deepest part of Bo's soul. Candy and winning. I have to say though, Bo really does handle not winning, quite well. Avee--not so much. We'll get there.

Yesterday we had one of my favorite little 11 year old girls in the world over, she was raking leaves with the kids to make a jumping pile. As the pile got bigger, Avee started listing the rules. The way they just flowed from her, made me think perhaps J had outlined some rules on Saturday when they raked. Then as the rules progressed I realized it was all her.
What I can remember:
1.Do not jump in head first, butt first only.
2. Do not jump in when someone is already in, wait your turn
3. Do not jump if you didn't help rake

Reasonable, right?
And then...

4. Follow all the rules
5. I am the only one who makes the rules
6. If you break any of the rules I will hit you with the rake.

I love that girl.

When I picked up the kids from school today they were pretty excited about the Veteran's Day celebrations they enjoyed. Avee was disappointed that J had never been a soldier, and thusly would not get a free meal at Applebee's. Neither of us like Applebee's but that girl LOVES the place. It's really just the name, or the apple, but she's liked it for some time now.

Then Bo mentioned that he'd like to be in the military when he grew up, probably Marines because they "get in, get it done and get out." Uhhh... okay. Avee's response to that was, "That's great Bo. If you do though, you'll have to deliver people's mail and pump their gas." I would LOVE to know where she got that idea. I laughed right out loud. I said, "Avee, 1952 called..." They didn't think I was funny though.

At this retreat I went to, one of the things I learned about and really wanted to implement into my life, is really letting myself, and my kids just feel. We try to talk ourselves out of "wasting time" on emotions or being weak, or in the case of my children, to not annoy the hell out of us with their crying and whining. Danyo is particularly guilty of this. He will get on one of his tyrades and there is no stopping him. So, I start counting and he starts yelling, "I'm done I'm done!" Part of me feels guilty for forcing him to stop crying like that, but the bigger part of me knows I will lose my mind if he gets to cry as much as he wants to.

Fresh from the retreat, feeling like a superstar, I decided to explore another method with Danyo. And he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. He had a fit about something, I believe this particular fit was because I didn't let him have the wii controller to abuse and lose. He started with the weeping and the wailing, and not so much gnashing of teeth, as much as screaming at me through clenched teeth. I took him into my arms and said things like, "I know, I know you are so sad right now, I'm sorry you feel so sad, tell mama about it..." He just sort of melted into my arms and sobbed and sobbed. He's an opportunist. He probably knew he wouldn't get a chance like this again. I held him. For several minutes. He got his fill of loving, compassionate mom, and pulled back. I took his face in my hands and said, "Do you feel better now?" He nodded but his face crumpled into tears again and he shoved his little stuffed dog in my face and said, "You made my doggy cry too Mom.

Yes, I let the damn stuffed dog explore his emotions as well. This is why I won't give 'em an inch. I just end up looking stupid.

So, I have to go now.

The One Where I Acknowledge October

2010-11-02T11:42:00.000-05:00

Holy moly. October just went down in a blaze of glory. One of the single most chaotic months of my life, and one of the most memorable, amazing ones as well.

Here's what happened this month:

October 1st at 9 am, J and I closed on a house. In the town we already live in. Yes, this may come as a surprise to some of you who are aware of my deep and abiding love for Iowa. But, I am not one to argue with fate. We have had some great years here, our kids are happy and in a good school, we have great friends, J's job puts the junior bacon cheeseburgers on the table, and I was just weary from living like tomorrow everything would change.

Everything went so incredibly smoothly and we're loving the house. I would just like to note that on October 1st at 8:33 AM I was in line at the bank waiting to get a printout of checks to pay our down payment. See, our lender said about 27 times to me, "all you need is your ID and your checkbook!" And I pretty much harassed her on the matter, "Are you sure that's all we'll need?" She kindly and sweetly reassured me. At 11:27 the night before I bolted upright in bed and exclaimed, "I DON'T KNOW WHERE OUR CHECKBOOK IS!" J and I had a good chuckle over that. It's so...me.

I'd also like to note that at 8:59AM I was charging up some steps to the law office where we were closing. Only, right in the middle of those steps, my feet stopped charging and my body didn't. I fell flat so suddenly. I really hurt my knee and shoulder and hand, but my pride was absolutely brutalized.

On October 4th at 11:00 AM I had an interview "screening" for graduate school. I sat in a room with 3 professors and one grad student and answered questions about myself for 45 minutes. I'm good at talking, so that part was easy. But knowing that I was being assessed for suitability and an appropriate level of sanity, was a little difficult. I felt like it went well, but of course after the fact I was constantly saying, "Why on earth did I think that was okay to say!?!?!" Specifically I mean, referring to Ben and Jerry as my therapists who help me cope with stress.

Ahhh well, I yam what I yam. Right?

On October 5th at 10:20 AM my phone rang. It was my best good cousin calling. Only, she's a teacher and is in class teaching at 10:00 AM my time every day. For the first time in over 20 years when she called, I didn't want to hear her voice. I answered, "I really, don't like you calling me at this time of day, it just can't be good." She said, "It isn't good, he's gone." I cried. So much life, so much love, just gone. It's really hard to come to terms with someone like him being gone. It's hard to wrap your brain around. And it's like the ending of the longest chapter of my life. He has been an active part of our lives, long before I was born, and regularly after.

On October 8th, the day before I was flying out to California for the funeral, my cousin called me several times while I was gone. She had just gotten notification from a retreat we had signed up for (the waiting list, the retreat was already full in April when we signed up) that if she'd be willing to drive an RV and stay in it, she could attend the retreat at the end of the month. She wanted to know if I was in. The timing wasn't the best, I had barely, and I mean BARELY made the house livable in order to go to the funeral. But it was a now or never kind of opportunity. I asked my mom if she'd come up and stay with my kids while I went. She said yes. I asked Jay if he'd be okay with me going. He said if I got my mom to come up and take care of the kids during the day, he didn't care where I went and for how long. So, I was in.

October 9-16th I spent a week in California, Danyo went with me. He turned out to be the world's best little travel companion. He adjusted to the ups and downs and unpredictability of traveling like no other 3 year old I've known. And he charmed the socks off of everyone. That boy is adorable through and through.

I can hardly remember the week between my return from the funeral trip and my flight back to California for the retreat. I worked like mad to finish the unpacking, I yelled at my kids and lost my temper with them WAY too many times, I kind of hated who I was, but couldn't seem to control it anyway. They are forgiving little sweethearts, so we're all good now. :)

On October 20th I do remember, I got a letter of acceptance to the graduate program. I had a moment of dread before I opened it, hoping it was a rejection. What kind of weirdo does that? I scrambled like mad in August to get my transcripts sent, study for and take the GRE, write an essay, get letters of Rec all in by September 1st, and there I sat, hoping for a rejection. I wanted the difficulty of the path to be completely removed as an option. I wanted a reason to not have to do it. Of course, a rejection would be difficult in and of itself, but the relief would outweigh it.

Alas, it was not a rejection. My self esteem enjoyed the hearty claps on its back, but all-in-all the whole idea is just a little too overwhelming for me to process right now.

On October 25th my mom flew into town and I write notes, and drew maps, and left phone numbers and warned her of each of the children's MO for sneakiness. Okay, really just Avee's. The other two couldn't sneak if their lives depended on it.

At 8:06 Am on October 26th I flew to California.

I got picked up from the curb in an RV. It was AWESOME.

I spent an incredible week in the mountains. It was rejuvenating, enlightening, hard, sweet, possibly life changing (I'll let you know), frustrating, and more than I ever hoped it could be. I am so grateful for the chance I had to go. For a cousin who got me there. A husband who helped make it happen. A mother that made it easier. I have good people in my life.

Take home messages from my retreat. At least ones that I'm willing to share:
I am madly in love with J. He is the greatest part about being me.
I want to be present in my children's lives and love them fully, as they are, and worry less about how they make me look or what they are doing "wrong".
I am whole, even with my weaknesses and past failures and heartbreaks. They aren't things I need to ignore or try to get away from---they are a part of me, and I am awesome. Awesome doesn't really even cover my awesomeness. I'm beyond awesome. I'm...I'm...BE-YAWESOME!!!
Thank you Rhino.

On October 31st I flew home from California at 10:00 pm at night. I haven't taken a red eye in about 20 years. I was better suited for it 20 years ago.

I am so happy to be home. I love the sound of Danyo's bare feet hitting the kitchen tile as he runs between Bo's bag of halloween candy in the kitchen and Caillou on the tv in the living room. I loved hearing Bo's musings this morning as he neglected his bowl of cereal and on our way to school. I loved seeing Avee's skeewampus hair which she plucked a headband on top of anyway. And trying to kindly convince her that capris in 50 degree weather wasn't the best choice.

I loved reading the week's lunch menu to the kids and letting them choose which day they wanted hot lunch. Avee chose "Nachos" and I heard "not choose" which is such an Avee response, but not in fact what she said. I am betting right now that tomorrow morning she will say something like, "I didn't want the nachos, I want the chicken sandwich." That's how she rolls. And how do I know? Because she is the apple and I am the tree.

I love feeling J's arms around me. I love the chill in the air, not quite cold, no more signs of warm days. I am happy.

Uncle Dick

2010-10-07T15:04:00.003-05:00

My first memory in life is of you. I was wearing a yellow dress, eagerly anticipating your arrival. I stood on our porch. You pulled me down off the porch and swung me around in a big hug. I don't remember anything else about that visit.

You taught me how to tie my shoes. You let me read to you from the Bible when I was 4 years old and had just learned to read. You made me feel so proud to know how to read such big words.

You brought us a bunch of hats one year. It was random and looking back, kind of hilarious---but we loved it.

You brought me my best friend, until you didn't have to bring her and she did the trip without you.

You always insisted on a hug, a great big giant bear hug. I can see you standing in a dozen different places with your head tilted to the side, your arms open wide, your big, telling smiling, just waiting for your hug.

I baled hay on the ranch with you and my cousins. It was hard and satisfying. I love being able to say I've baled hay.

You encouraged me to get good grades in college.

You used to ask me to tell you faith-promoting stories. I'm pretty sure I rolled my eyes every time.

You taught me the West Coast Swing and I was a hard, hard, pupil to teach. You made me go to a dance hall and dance with other people. It was terrifying and I tried to get out of it a dozen times or more. I don't believe you understand the words "No" and "I can't."

You didn't sugar coat. And if you did, it was usually an obscure quote I didn't understand.

You knew I didn't know as much as I thought I did, but you didn't make me feel stupid.

You danced with Betty in the kitchen. Even if she was in the middle of seasoning a salmon.

You took me on horseback rides. I think every member of our extended family can say that. I had one ride in college that was particularly soul satisfying. We rode late into the night, past midnight. I was so sore the next day, but that evening with you, on a horse, was just what I needed. I'm sure I never told you that. You probably knew.

You quoted poetry. A lot. Most of the time I didn't understand any of it. Last time you visited me in Iowa you introduced me to Pablo Neruda. Not like most people introduce others to poetry. There was a slight lull in our conversation, we were talking about Josie. It was 4 years later and her absence in our lives was still fresh, raw, sometimes consuming. You suddenly began...

When I die, I want your hands on my eyes:
I want the light and the wheat of your beloved hands
to pass their freshness over me once more:
I want to feel the softness that changed my destiny.

I want you to live while I wait for you, asleep.
I want your ears still to hear the wind, I want you
to sniff the sea’s aroma that we loved together,
to continue to walk on the sand we walk on.

I want what I love to continue to live,
and you whom I love and sang above everything else
to continue to flourish, full-flowered:
so that you can reach everything my love directs you to,
so that my shadow can travel along in your hair,
so that everything can learn the reason for my song.

So fitting for you, from Josie. So fitting for us, from you.

When J and I were desperately poor students our car broke down. You rigged it to get us home after Josie's Memorial ride, and then later sent us a check that covered the exact amount of the repair.

You made me think "Uncle" was a way of life. I didn't know not everyone had an uncle like you. I didn't realize for a long time how much time and effort it took for you to be who you were to all of us.

We just bought a house, four days before you died. I spend a lot of time in this quiet house, unpacking boxes. I sit in this big house full of boxes, trying to imagine a house without boxes, and a world without you. I can't believe you won't be in California, standing in the foyer, with your head tilted to the side, your arms open wide.

You have left a void so big, so many lives you've touched, so many people who love you and were loved by you. I'm so glad you are my uncle. So glad you made that word mean so much to me.

Funny Old Men

2010-09-26T16:06:00.003-05:00

I was sitting at the front desk at work and an older man came up with a rattty old ziplock filled with old people candy. Butterscotches, Werthers, and those cinnamon hard candies. I think they must have a senior citizen store to buy those because I never see them at the store. Of course, I usually have whirly-helicopter-suckers-on-steriods shoved in my face to "watch watch WATCH!" so maybe that's why I don't see the senior citizen candies.

This little old man handed me the bag and said, "You're still here? Have some candy!" My instinct was to decline. Candy from a stranger. Ratty ol' bag, etc. But then I realized he'd never have to know that I wasn't going to eat it AND I was sitting behind bullet-proof glass, so I'd probably be okay taking candy from a stranger. This one time.

He goes, "You can have a sucker, they have my name on them!" I thought that was interesting that he had personalized suckers. I pulled one out. It was a DUM DUM. I laughed, but he laughed harder. I grabbed a butterscotch candy. He said, "those candies are the darndest things, sometimes they pop out of the wrapper---but it's okay, I just lick them and put them back in and they stay better." I totally guffawed. I love funny old men. Actually, I like funny anything.

J fixed my computer. Yay J!

All We Need Is Just A Little Patience

2010-09-21T21:36:00.002-05:00

Still no computer. The donation idea flopped, so maybe you all can start sending my husband some hate mail. All two of you reading this. Hi Mom!

Today Avee stumbled a bit with the wii remote trying to start a game. Bo laughed at her, and apparently so did Danyo. Avee slugged Bo and Bo, still laughing said, "If you are going to hit me for laughing at you, then you have to be fair and hit Danyo too because he was also laughing at you." I kind of chuckled at Bo's logic and complete shamelessness at throwing his three year old brother under the bus. Danyo giggled. Avee's face was crumpling. She does NOT like to be laughed at. I quickly said, "The difference was, Danyo wasn't laughing at her, he was just laughing." Danyo began nodding emphatically and said, "No, I was laughing at her." We all burst out laughing. I tried to save him and he wouldn't let me.

Today I was perusing Bo's homework. He had read a paragraph about Jen and her "Special Talent". It talked about how she tried the guitar like her two older brothers, but she just wasn't good and it frustrated her a lot. She tried the drums, and BAM, she was amazing. She had found her special talent.

There were three questions following this story. What would be a good title for this story? Bo answered, "Jen's Special Talent". Excellent answer. Then they asked another question about the guitar or something. Then it said, "Write one sentence from the story that is not about the main idea." Bo wrote, "Jen likes ice cream." I laughed when I saw it and then immediately thought that I had lacked in the reading comprehension and missed the part about the ice cream. I reread it. Bo had indeed made up Jen liking ice cream. It really struck my funny bone. I could picture him trying to think of a sentence that wasn't the main idea, that could probably be universally accepted. Well, everyone likes ice cream, right? Really, it's hard to go wrong with that. As per usual, he was watching me like a hawk as I reviewed his school work. He asked me what was so funny and I told him. I said, "the story doesn't say anything about ice cream and you just randomly put that in there!" He countered, "It said a sentence that wasn't the main idea, ice cream was never mentioned, so it wasn't the main idea!"

On Sunday on the way to church Bo was asking me what the word random meant. I typically have a hard time with definitions. I usually do examples, sometimes manage similes, but rarely swing a bonafide definition. This was no exception. I gave him an example of how you could be talking about the weather with someone and they suddenly say, "I like carrots!" He thought that was hilarious.

Later, I got to teach his little class. The lesson was on the Sabbath Day. I told them the story of Jesus healing a man on the Sabbath and the Pharisees trying to trip Jesus up and trick him into saying that was wrong. After telling about Jesus healing the man, I said, "Do you know what day Jesus healed this man's hand?" A little girl in the class said, "Oh please say it was a Wednesday!" I burst out laughing and turned to Bo---"That's random." He was thrilled to be able to witness random firsthand. Although, Avee is about as consistently random as she is consistently anything else.

I have put a couple of notes in Avee's lunch for school. She notices stuff like that. I did it once or twice for Bo and both times he thought I'd included a napkin made of copy paper cut in the shape of a heart. Not surprising. So, I was delighted when I was going through Avee's lunch box, to find a little note she had written. She drew a picture of herself, labeled it, and put it in her lunchbox for me to find. Pretty much the cutest thing she's done all week. I love when she imitates me. Most of the time.

Neither of my kids will talk to me about school. I know it's me, but I sure wish out of two school-aged children, I had at least ONE chatterbox. I mean, Bo will talk nonstop about a freaking tv episode he watched 8 months ago. And Avee will spend 20 minutes prefacing a request for some ice cream ("remember the time we were in the van and there was snow on the ground and Bo said he was mad about Dad taking his nunchucks away I asked you if we could have ice cream and den Danyo started kicking the back of yo' chair and you didn't answer me and den I said, 'Mooooom' and you said 'oh yeah' and...)----but when it comes to knowing about the 6 and a half hours they are away from me----I get nothing. Any ideas? Any suggestions. Every once in a while I'll get a little something. But she doesn't talk about classmates or daily activities, and anything I do manage to get is brief.

Bo is discovering his inner clown. I see it, I adore it, I recognize it as the Smith in him that it is, but I also worry. Can I teach him early enough the rules of truly making people laugh? Funny the first time, stupid the second time, and the third time you get slapped. That rule was better known in my house growing up than which side of the plate the fork goes on. I still don't know that rule. I also hope he isn't in his last year of college before he learns that jokes at the expense of others, aren't worth telling. So far he doesn't have that problem. He came downstairs tonight wearing snowpants that are too small for Danyo, a bathrobe, and some other bizarre accessory, while we had company and said, "I'm on a mission to save the world!" He looked ridiculous. I love that he's coming into himself and not so caught up in what others think. I so want confident children.

My efforts to have confident children have mostly consisted of calling them bad names all the time, so that when other people do, they don't feel so bad.

I think it's working.

J's walking around the house right now holding his pinky out like the delicate flower that it is. He's looking for a band-aid, but he ain't gonna find one. About 27% of our house is packed in boxes right now, and I happen to know for a fact one of those boxes has our supply of band-aids. Oh, never mind, it's all good---he just put some packing tape on his finger. True story.

Everyday I think, "I need to record that" but now I sit here and nothing else is coming up. I think I need to record some of the things that Danyo says a lot. He's pretty dang ornery. And funny.

"Yo MEAN Dad!"
"Yo MEAN Mom!"
"I'm crying cuz Bo was mean to me!"
"Avee said no, that's why I'm so sad! She's MEAN!"

Repeat 12 times a day.

He says, "I HATE this." I secretly love it because he says it anytime he is mad or frustrated, but he says it like a fit throwing 16 year old girl.

"I said I love you TOO!" This comes after an I love you, and sometimes just alone. But it is always said quite angrily. I am not sure of what his expectation of the conversation is, but once he says this, it's clear I haven't met it.

"What's your name?" He chats with everyone.

I was at the thrift store yesterday when a very lovely looking lady who may or may not have been intoxicated and definitely had a speech impediment not unsimilar to Avee's, struck up conversation with my "good luckin' boy". Danyo answered her questions, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to engage in a full-on conversation with her. She finally moved on and Danyo said, "That was nice. But she couldn't talk."

Already the kid has about 2000% more tact than his sister. The one who pointed and loudly exclaimed "That lady is SO SHORT like a kid and she's a GROWN-UP!" when we were at Sams Club on Saturday.

Let's see, more Danyo phrases. Oh yeah, "Mom, I want sumping." It means he's got the munchies. Caillou gives him the munchies. Not even lying.

I guess that's all for now.

I hope to be back before my kids are in junior high.

Stolen Computer Time

2010-09-08T11:15:00.002-05:00

So, it's not entirely my fault I'm not blogging. Our computer is crap and it won't stay on. That's the issue with it THIS week. Stoopit computer.

I'm at my friend's house, using her computer. It's a funny story. Kind of. She's hosting the monthly potluck and I, in true form, forgot about it. But another friend called and said I had to come because her little guy was walking around the house saying Danyo's name over and over. I quickly finished my phone conversation, brushed my teeth, turned Danyo's shirt and shorts around, ran to the convenient store and got a bag of Doritos and zipped over. Only, I was 25 minutes early. I'm NEVER early. Ever. So, I get to blog at her house.

I have stories I need to record.

Like this morning when Danyo was dressing himself (truly adorable) he holds up his undies and peeks down into them and declares, "Der aw clean, no poop on dese!" I have no idea why he does that. He put his shirt on and while it was stuck briefly on the top of his head he called out. "Where is me? Where are I?" Ohhhhhh how I love the pronoun exploration of little kids.

Danyo and I are enjoying our mornings of toodling around, running errands, visiting friends, or watching mindless tv and afternoons napping. I could really get used to this.

Avee loves Kindergarten. She has the same teacher for PE and Art. So everyday when I ask her what her favorite part of the day was, she tells me it was "gym". I thought it so odd that she was having gym so frequently. The yesterday she said, "Gym! We made stuff with clay!!" Then I remembered Kindergartners have the same teacher for art and PE. Bo and I got a good laugh out of that.

I've had some interesting conversations with her lately. Two days ago she was trying to convince me to make mashed potatoes for dinner. Since I was almost done with the very time consuming chicken and rice dish, I denied her. She harumphed, "I wish I was mashed potatoes so I could just eat myself and then turn back into a human and enjoy what I just ate."

If you tell me there is another girl out there with a brain that works like that, I might not believe you.

Two other things she's done that are related, and naughty. Just so she knows in 20 years what she did to me. A week or so ago at dinner I was getting after her for griping about the food, or playing with it, or something. She has always been extremely sensitive to scolding or being "wrong". She didn't like what I was doing. So she got a very....I can't describe it exactly, a look of warning, as though to say, "You're about to really get it, and there's nothing I can do about what you'll get..." She slowly held up her fist, and slowly concentrated on raising her middle finger. Bo had taught her a week or so prior that it was something bad. How bad, she had no idea. How inappropriate to use it as a counter-scold----she had no idea. I said very sternly, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, that is very naughty and you'll get in a lot of trouble." And then I bolted upstairs and fell on my bed laughing until I cried. There's no way I could recapture her expression or what she thought she was doing, but I have to record it for my own memory.

Then two nights ago she accidentally splashed a big cup of water out of the tub. It really was an accident, I saw the whole thing. The thing is, the last time they splashed water out of the tub, by the gallons full (no exaggeration), J could be heard yelling when I pulled up in the car. They don'[t dump water out of the tub anymore.

So when Avee did, she immediately jumped up and said in her perfect imitation stressed and annoyed me, "Dammit. That was really an accident Mom." I ducked down quickly with the towel to wipe it up. She canNOT see me laugh.

I rarely say that word. And I only say it when I'm at my wits end. She said it exactly like that.

I love that girl.

Bo makes me laugh everyday, but I have a harder time remembering his lines. He thinks he is HILARIOUS. Perhaps that detracts from his actual hilarity. For example, one of our friends just had her appendix removed. Bo accidentally referred to it as her kidney. When he realized his mistake, he thought it was so funny and about every three hours made reference to her kidney being removed. Quickly followed up with, "I know it's her....what is that word... oh yeah, appendix, I'm just joking!"

See? Hilarious.

I know y'all want pictures of J with long hair. Here's the thing, I may have been somewhat misleading. He doesn't have long hair. He's barely long enough that people are noticing he isn't cutting it. I'll post a picture as soon as he buys me a nice computer I can use. Deal? Okay.

I'll attach a donation link to expedite the process.

Well, people are here and I'm being anti-social, blogging at a potluck. I'm sort of a rebel that way though.

See you next time I'm early somewhere, or get a new computer!

First Day of Kindergarten

2010-08-20T09:44:00.007-05:00

Today I took Avee to Kindergarten. Tiny, sweet, Avee. I started blogging on her first birthday. Granted, it was about Bo--but he was this hilarious little two-year-old at the time.

As I walked away from her classroom, she was sitting on an alphabet carpet with her little princess lunchbox in her lap, and the tears started to flow. I was entirely unprepared for that. ENTIRELY. I have felt some nostalgia and some pangs of sadness at this chapter in our lives ending, as a new one begins, but I did not expect tears.

My letter to Avee on her first day of Kindergarten.

Dear Avee,
You have been apprehensive, skeptical, and outright uninterested in going to school. This attitude about school is somewhat foreign to me. You are a perfectionist in some ways---some really strange ways, so I guess it makes sense. You like to be sure of yourself, you like to have the answers, you don't like feeling shy or facing the unknown. But you also don't believe us when we tell you that very quickly you will see just how many answers you have, how many friends you will have, and how you will love going to school every day. You absolutely think we are lying to you.

Today when I woke you up for school (do you know how much it kills me to have to wake a child up?!) you threw the pillow back over your head like a hung over college student. It totally cracked me up.

You had a new pretty outfit to wear and that got you going a little bit, but once the cute outfit was on and the shiny new shoes were on, the thrill was over.

We were in a rush, I wish I could have pulled you on my lap and snuggled you just a little longer. I wish I could have whispered just a few more times in your ear what a great kindergartner you will be. I really wish I never had to let you go.

Here's a little secret Avee. I want you to stay home with me just as much as you want to. I want you to "be my baby for 80 years" just as much as you want to be. I want to hold you, snuggle you, rock you, never let you go. But one of the difficult parts of growing up is doing things you may not want to but are the best for you. You are growing up!

You don't know that tears streamed down my face as I walked away from your classroom this morning. I know if you had seen that, it would have been all the evidence you'd need to never go to school again. I knew you were okay. I knew you were in good hands. I know that your teacher will love you and protect you and teach you. I know without a doubt that you will love Kindergarten.

I felt silly crying, but everyone around me knows how it feels. Someone told me "College is worse!" and another said, "You still cry even when you are a Grandma" And one of mom's friends called out to me and it was nice to have a friend who knew I wasn't a big baby and knew what it was like to let a little girl go to Kindergarten by herself. Then another friend gave me a hug and reminded me that you would be just fine. Even though I know this, and I tell you all the time, I still need to be reminded.

From the moment you were born you have brought me new life experiences. You were a tiny, perfect little bundle of sweetness. You scored a perfect 10 on the Apgar. We only kind of knew what that meant, but the doctor and nurses said with some incredulity, "She scored a perfect 10, that hardly ever happens!"

We knew you were a perfect 10. We weren't surprised at all.

As a newborn you insisted on being near me, even when you were asleep. If I left the house while you were sleeping, I could almost count the seconds before I'd get a phone call, "Avee's awake and inconsolable."

You have always known what you wanted and have always managed to get it, one way or another. When we implemented a "eat your dinner or go get ready for bed" rule, you made getting ready for bed at 5:30 pm the new hot, cool thing to do. When you broke your leg, you made other kids wish they had a cast. You made cast walking a new art form and could slide a good two feet down the hallway of the YMCA. You are sweet and kind-hearted and strong-willed and hot-tempered. You don't get mad easily but when you do, you really blow. It's really quite cute. But I usually don't tell you that.

You didn't want to turn three because you wanted to wear diapers forever. You insisted you were four "pour" because you wanted to be able to use markers at the YMCA childcare center. You potty-trained in a day without any help from me because you wanted a bike. You still ask to sit in high chairs at restaurants. You love and nurture and care for Danyo like he's your own child, but you whacked him good yesterday when he kicked you in the face. You adore Daddy, but not when he tells you what to do. You are obedient, opinionated, smart, hard-working, funny, and quirky.

Every day is like a little surprise with you. I think I have a handle on you, and I never really do. You keep the rules to the letter on some things, and you make rules up on other things. Like, how many days in a week is arbitrary, and whether or not I should go to work really should be your decision. But you brush your teeth like a champ without being asked, always put on pajamas the first time you are asked, know how to clean the living room like no other 5 year old, and get annoyed when we leave lights on at night so you won't be scared.

Not getting to be with you all day every day is sad for me. I love to be with you. I love your hugs, your kisses, your rule making ("If I brush my hair, then you have to buy me some chocolate today at the store") your insistence that you haven't had breakfast so you can't have lunch yet, your tenderness with Danyo, your tv addiction...

I know there are so many good years of wonderful in store with you as my daughter. I am sad that the "baby" years are officially over today. You will always be my baby, but now I have to share you.

You've been in school for an hour and a half. I got an email and a phone call telling me that you have a big smile and look like you are just fine. This is what I knew would happen, but I'm so happy to have confirmation.

Happy First Day of Kindergarten my little love!
Love, Mom
p.s. I really got a kick out of you saying over and over that today was Bo's 2nd day of 2nd grade.
p.p.s You probably won't remember this, but Bo was SO excited for you to start Kindergarten today, it was really tender. He knows you will love school and he's so happy to have his sister at his school.

Leopards and Haircuts

2010-08-18T09:44:00.003-05:00

I was just coming out of the bathroom this morning after my shower. Danyo rushed past me stating his urgency in washing his hands. "I need to wash my haaaaaans. I need to wash my hans right nooooow."

A 3 year old boy that willingly washes his hands is a little bit of a red flag. I was curious to find what he'd gotten on his hands. I watched as he rushed back out of the bathroom and into Avee who was sitting on my bed holding a little beanie baby leopard. "I washt my haaans Avwee!" She promptly handed him her baby leopard.

I laughed out loud. Only Avee could get a little boy to wash his hands to hold a beanie baby. It's been a long time since we've been around a "wash your hands first" baby, but I guess the principal has stuck.

This is where a segway would go.

J is growing out his hair. I say this with a slight eye-roll for a couple of reasons. When we first got married, J was constantly asking me to cut his hair. I don't know how to cut hair. I didn't even know how to handle clippers. It was a bad idea all around. He would assure me "You can't really mess it up" and "I'm not going to care how it looks." I pushed that easy-going attitude in him to the limit. And then some.

After one particularly um, unsuccessful attempt---my friend called me as I was driving to work. At the time J was working a temp job and caught the bus just down the street from our apartment.

She said, "I just drove past your husband, a skinny white-boy looking like a skinhead. Maybe you should take a bus and he can have the car; because quite frankly anything that could happen to you standing at a bus stop can't be as bad as what could happen to him in your neighborhood looking like that."

Periodically over the years I've suggested that J let his hair grow a little, just to see what happens. He could never get past like 1/2 an inch in length before it was driving him crazy or he felt frumpy looking.

Suddenly he decided to grow it long.

He's been "growing" it for probably six months now. I think people just started noticing last month. He's got miles to go before he's got the hippie-do he's hoping for.

And he still doesn't really like hair touching his forehead, but he's hoping that will change.

Yesterday, he got his hair "cut". He "consulted" a "stylist". He's cleaned up and has an action plan for this long hair growing endeavor.

AND.

He bought product.

He walked in the door and announced that he'd gotten his hair cut. Which, he had to do, because I was sooooo the male in that conversation---I did not notice.

He held up a big silver can of...something.

"I got this too."

I burst out laughing. "Really J? You just can't say no?"

He cast his eyes down. I'm sure he was thinking of the bottle of unused product in the bathroom. The one that was going to revolutionize the way his hair looked and totally worth the $27 an ounce he'd paid.

"How much did it cost?" I ask him.

"I'm ashamed to say," he admits.

I look at the bottle. It's skinny and it can't be much in volume (but oh! the volume it will give his hair!). I guess that it was $10.

More.

More.

More....

Yeah, I was laughing, and pointing and ridiculing without mercy.

He stood there and took the abuse too.

This man can is so tight he can get a booger out of Lincoln's nose. But apparently talking to him with his chopped hair on the floor is his kryptonite.

Heeeeeeey, maybe I should start cutting his hair for him again and THEN ask him for things when I'm done, before we've cleaned up.

Working For The Weekend 'Round Here

2010-08-06T16:37:00.003-05:00

Several months ago I was on the phone with my sister that lives in England and I was relating a current funny from my kids. She encouraged me to "record it all". She doesn't really read my blog, so I thought that was funny. I did however start a blog specifically for kid quotes. That was in November last year. I have exactly one story for Avee and one for Bo.

Avee has been a laugh a minute for me today and I started thinking about this blog I never kept. The story on there needs to be shared.

But first, today's recordables:

We went to a drive-in movie last night. Everyone knows the best part of the drive in is all the crap food you bring. We overloaded. This morning, Avee who has been recently conscientious about what is good for you, announced as she walked toward the bathroom, "I gotta go poop all this gawbage outta me!"

Right now she is on the phone with her friend and they both had something "the same" and her friend said, "we're twins!" and Avee said, "Yeah, in God's way!" I do not even know what that means.

"Mom, we aren't allowed to say 'What da heck' because it says 'duh'. Right? See, whaaat duuuuuuuuh heck!"

For some reason bratty kids saying "duh" to each other is way more disrespectful and rude than the phrase "what the heck" is. So "duh" isn't allowed at our house. In fact, I downright love it when Danyo says "what da heck!?" You probably would too.

Okay, so, for last November. Most people who know me have heard the Avee one. It's probably my favorite Avee story of all time.
(she was 4 and a half at the time)
Avery has decided she doesn't like her freckles. It might have to do with now being in preschool and having a friend that she compares appearances with. So in an effort to convince her they are wonderful, I told her that her freckles were angel kisses. And that when she left heaven to come be in our family, the angels were so sad to see her go because they were going to miss her, they kissed her over and over and over, all over her face. She really loved that story. Her face lit up and she got a cute little smile she gets when she feels favored. I really thought that story did the trick.

About a week later I heard her muttering about her darn freckles. I assumed it was a habit and I reminded her where those freckles came from. Then I hear her grumpily complain, "I hate all these freckles, I wish Jesus just kept his hands to himself!"

Bo got caught eating a second chocolate from a box of chocolates I received as a gift. I started griping at him because he would have eaten the whole box without batting an eye. I said, 'This is why I hide stuff and don't let you have my things, because you would have just kept eating all of my candy if I hadn't stopped you just now."

I prepared for his objections, I mean, honestly---who wants to be accused so blatantly of such gluttony?

He responded kind of slowly, "Well.........yeah..........that's true."

So very Avee, so very Bo.

Of Course It Had To Be Gibby

2010-08-03T14:51:00.002-05:00

Avee just told me she prayed last night that her and her friends wouldn't die. I bet that was a terribly cute little prayer she said. I asked her why she thought she would die. This conversation ensued:
Avee: When I get old. We're all going to die someday you know.
Me: Yes, I do know. But you don't have to be afraid of dying, when you die you go to heaven and live with God--you don't stay dead.
Avee: Yeah, yeah, I know. But...will I be able to come back here to Iowa after I die?

I believe I've heard it all.

Shortly after that cute little conversation she added, "You're gonna die fohst because your the oldest!"

I spanked her and sent her to her room.

This morning Danyo flooded my bathroom. Full on flooded, 2-3 inches of water streaming out. I've always been afraid of that happening and today it happened and I hardly batted an eye. Okay, that's a lie, I wigged out for about 2 seconds. Literally. I realized he put an entire roll of toilet paper down there so I could remedy the situation fairly quickly. That was a waste of about 75 cents and 5 clean towels though.

Pretty much that's the most exciting thing that's happened all day.

Avee who wore a sundress all last winter keeps coming downstairs in the morning wearing jeans and long sleeved shirts. I laugh every time. It reminds me of how when people have newborns they say, "They have day and night confused" which, in and of itself, makes me laugh. Poor newborn, can't quite figure out when in their 24 hours of sleeping, pooping and crying, they are supposed to do one more than the other. Avee can't quite get her seasons figured out. I think that might mean we are supposed to live in California.

Although, today is the second day in a row she has been "Gibby". Of all the characters on all the tv shows and movies in all the world, this is who she wants to imitate? In case you don't know Gibby, he's a character on ICarly. Gibby's trademark is not liking to wear shirts.
I promised Bo the computer and I'm pretty sure I can hear Avee upstairs hammering nails into the wall. I wish I was joking.

Today So Far

2010-07-30T14:19:00.003-05:00

Today has been one of those delicious lazy days. No one is bugging me to take them somewhere, no one is bored, I have no immediate demands, and we're all kind of happy to hang out and veg. J's probably not so happy that he doesn't get to do that, and Danyo was kind of bugged that he bothered to go to work today, but that will all work itself out in the end.

Earlier today Danyo found a Potty Time dvd I had purchased for him a while ago. We lost it before he ever even got to watch it, he has since been potty trained (I know, right--NO DIAPERS HERE!!!). He found the dvd today and watched it three times in a row. Toilet paper was singing, there was a distressed king who's princess wouldn't pee in the toilet, there were songs about flushing and lot's of rejoicing about poop and pee going in the right place. He couldn't take his eyes off of it. I imagine it's a lot like the time I watched "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest". I was riveted. I was like, "this is my life, I can't believe it, it's like they are in my head!" I think he was experiencing this.

Bo sat on the couch at one point and chuckled or full on guffawed at about every other sentence he heard. That was equally as entertaining for me.

Bo finally convinced him to let him play the wii. And by "convinced" I mean, unplugged the dvd player and sang "bye bye" to the potty drama.

Yesterday Bo decided to lie about getting into some cookies. He's a little bit like J in this regard. I think Avee and I know that we should save the big stuff (lying) for the big stuff (not dinky cookies). J lies about things like, whether or not he peeked in at the sleeping baby when I'm neurotic and think our newborn is going to jump out of his own crib. And whatnot. So, Bo and I had a showdown. Had he gotten into the cookies, he would have been lightly scolded. Reminded that those kinds of foods are not healthy, etc. But he chose to lie. And he persisted in the lie. I knew he wasn't being honest and I couldn't believe he was choosing this thing to lie about. He's trying it on for size, he gets caught every time, so I'm hoping he decides it isn't worth his time.

I called J and told him I wanted to beat him, skin him, throw his DS, the Wii, and all his clothes in the trash AND ground him from treats for a week.

J said I should probably just ground him from treats for a week. Whatever. He's soooooooo boring when it comes to making this authority business interesting.

Bo confessed about 30 seconds after walking away from our conversation. He's such a sell-out to his sneaky side. Avee has way more stamina than that. Fortunately for us, she's reigned that in a bit. Fortunately for her Kindergarten teacher, I should say.

Speaking of Kindergarten, Avee doesn't want anything to do with it. She confessed today that she's scared of being wrong. Aw, sweet little thing. She could be the most wrong little redhead on the planet and I'm certain her teacher will adore her. She will be the cutest little wrong thing ever.

Last night I was tucking her in and tears welled up in her eyes and she threw her arms around my neck. "I don't ever want to grow up and live without you and daddy! I want to stay with you forever!" I assured her she could stay with us as long as she wanted (T-10 years and she will be saying the very exact opposite of this, I am certain). I was curious though, I asked her, "Why don't you want to grow up and have your own house and your own family?" She answered emphatically, "I do not want to cook for other people!"

I hear that sister, I hear that. I told her she should marry someone nice like Daddy then.

I also successfully taught Avee and Danyo how to swallow pills. That sounds bad, doesn't it? I have had the hardest time finding Omega-3's that my kids will take. I've tried several brands, several types, but they all gag. I finally found an "orange-chocolate" liquid one that Bo will take, he actually asks for it every day. So, that was one down. I was having no luck, so I finally decided to teach them to swallow the little tiny gel-caps I sold the farm to buy a while ago. Danyo downed his without any water. He was determined to be the tough guy. He gagged a little too. I finally convinced him to use water and he was begging for more.

Avee, it took much longer. But it was finally a success and I feel happy now that I don't have to be as conscientious about what I feed them, because I can mask all my short-comings with some supplements. Yay me!

Bo is harrassing me for the computer. It's a toss-up between having them in diapers, having to feed them, and having to answer questions and share the computer. I'm not sure which I prefer.

Just kidding. Sharing wins over diapers ANY day.

Yo Mama's So Fat

2010-07-28T17:06:00.004-05:00

I've been watching my friend's kids this week. My kids have loved having built in playmates and reality is going to be hard for them when this gig is over. It has been entertaining to say the least, listening to some of the dialogue.

Yesterday at the zoo while biting into a white powdered donut her almost 6 year old closed her eyes and emphatically said, "This donut is amaaaaazing." Those things are far from amazing, but it made me laugh.

Today we were driving home from swimming and I stopped to get the kids a frosty. From the back Bo was bugging Christian, her 11 year old to tell his "Your Mama's So Fat" jokes. Christian declined. Bo persisted. I realized that Christian was probably declining because at 11 he didn't think it was appropriate to tell Fat Mom jokes next to a fat mom. So, I told him a couple of my favorite Your Mama's So Fat jokes and that was all the encouragement he needed.

They were LUH-AME. They sounded like a bunch of 5th graders made them up. At one point, I looked over at him talking, and the punch line was taking a lot of his concentration to share. He was using hand motions, trying to remember it all, and spent about 45 seconds telling it. I think a short punchline joke shouldn't take 2 minutes to tell. Anyway, the kids were laughing and enjoying getting away with saying fat over and over when her 8 year in all the excitement threw out her best made up joke. "Your mom's so fat she bought us all a frosty!" She had no idea what she had done and I burst out laughing. It registered with Christian about two seconds after it did me and his eyes about bugged out of his head. He wanted to reprimand her, but the damage was done and he knew that bell couldn't be unrung. She still doesn't know she called me fat and I still think it's hilarious.

Something's Right Around The Corner---I'd Say.

2010-07-28T17:00:00.002-05:00

About 3 weeks ago J and I came home from a date night. We had a 17 year old girl and her 10 year old brother babysitting. Bo loves the 10 year old and the 10 year old is just about the sweetest kid I've ever seen in my life when it comes to caring for Danyo. So obviously, Danyo adores him. When we walked in the door, Danyo was playing with bubbles or chewing gum, I can't remember which. I made the comment, "That's all Danyo needs to be happy." The reason I can't remember which is because those are the two things Danyo needs to be happy. That's ALL he needs.

Mikey interjected, "and wrestling, he loooooves wrestling." Yes he does. Bo excitedly added, quite loudly, "We wrestled too, I totally HUMPED him!" Mikey's eyes got big, and J and I laughed out loud. I said, "Yeah, that's probably not what you did." I guess Bo asked Mikey what it meant, and Mikey told him it's not really a good thing. That was the end.

Today as I'm driving to pick up my friend's son, with a van full of my kids and hers, Bo says, "Mom, what does hump mean?" I knew where it was coming from, and having had bad experiences with half-answers, I took it on. Sort of.

"Have you ever seen a dog jump on another dog and sort of move up and down, or sometimes Jonathan's dog will do it to people's legs sometimes."
"Yeah."
"That's what humping is."
"Oh. Well, do only dogs do that?"

I knew. I knew he meant, "do people do it too?" but I was NOT going to answer that. Dammit.

"Well, let's see, I don't think I have ever seen a cat do it---horses might do it but really I've just seen dogs do it."

"I mean do only animals do it?"

"Um. Yes."

At which point, Bo says in his sort of conclusive, muttering voice (which implies, "I got this figured out, thank you very much), "Well, people are animals."

I turned my head to my window and laughed until I couldn't breathe. Then promptly called J. He needs to get his birds and bees talk sorted out.

Late Night Treat

2010-07-26T22:44:00.005-05:00

I cannot stop laughing right now. I'm not even exaggerating a little bit. Ax my husband, he'll tell you. In fact, I think it's so funny, I don't know why he's not still laughing, to the point of tears, like I am.

For Father's Day, Bo made a "card" for J at school that was like the front page of a magazine. Very cute. It is hanging on the fridge and I see it every time I walk by and smile at the cute, "He's asome" and "He likes to go camping" even though J hasn't been camping one single time since we've been married.

It has been on the refridgerator well over a month. I have looked at it dozens of times.

Today as I walked by, something caught my eye and I immediately thought my brain had played a trick on me. So I backed up and saw---it was no trick.I wonder.... do you see it? Take a minute. See if you can.

I saw this ten minutes ago and I'm STILL laughing.

If you look closely at the real picture (it won't show up on this scanned version) you can see Bo's hastily scrawled name at the top has been erased and Avee has claimed this as her own.

I bet she's the one who put it on the fridge. I cannot wait to ask her about this tomorrow.

With this one, I don't think what you see is what you get. I pity the fool.

2010-07-25T16:54:00.004-05:00

I bet you thought I went back to my old slothful ways of non-blogging. But I didn't. Our computer was broken for several days (there appears to be a pattern of our computer breaking in July---it's weird) and then the kids and I were out of town for nearly two weeks.

I'm home, recuperated from traveling with three young children, and I gots my blog on.
Sort of.

Today while I was upstairs "napping" but secretly watching a show on Lifetime that I don't care about, don't know the actors, and don't know the title of, but simply CANNOT TURN OFF, J gave the kids an assignment. He told them they needed to write a story that included a person, an animal, and an airplane.

Avee came upstairs and complained to me about J's instructions. I told her the upstairs was for naps, so she could stay with me and take a nap, or go downstairs and do what Dad wanted. She promptly left me.
While Avee was upstairs complaining, Bo took matters into his own hands and got the job over with.
Avee and I sort of hold the corner on the market of sassy and smart-alecky in this house, so this really made me laugh. Of course being true to himself, he wrote an actual story. He asked me to please share that one, but it's 5 pages, front and back with one little drawing and two word sentences on each page. I'm gonna pass on that.

Avee's was a picture. She told me the story was "too long" to tell me, but later changed her mind. I don't know if blogger will let me upload the video. It's 3 minutes long and not that exciting, but it is so very Avee.

In other news, my sweet niece came to visit from England. She really is sweet. She's 17 now, so being sweet is kind of a big deal. I remembered that I used to be as nice and unassuming as she was. Now I'm crotchety and bossy, and intolerant. I'm trying to go back to being nice and unassuming. That's my goal right now. I hope it's not as impossible as getting back into my skinny jeans has been...

I realized yesterday that the kids start school in 3 weeks. I can't believe it! In an effort to avoid some disciplinary problems for Bo, I'm going to start a "study time" with the kids to get them in the groove. Bo had a relatively rough start last year, but I think it was mostly because we ran around like wild animals the entire summer, and sitting still and listening was not anything his brain cells could recall.

Avee's not too keen on starting kindergarten. When she realizes there is no couch and no remote control she is REALLY going to be ticked.

I am simultaneously quite sad about letting her go, and looking forward to my solo time with Danyo. I really hope he takes the opportunity to stop being so demanding and screechy. He seems to really need my time and attention (or is considerably more annoying about getting it) than the other two.

Last night J and I went and saw Inception. I enjoyed it. I've become disenchanted with most movies in the theater because it's now $20 to go, plus childcare and most movies don't seem worth it. This one was. And it's 2 and a half hours long, and didn't feel like it, so that's always a good sign. J has a mancrush on Leonardo---so he liked it. Obvi.

We had a new library open here 2 weeks ago. I was pretty excited because it's like a mile away from my house and the other ones are quite a haul. I already have 7 things overdue. I like to support my local libraries.

I have to go return my stuff now before it becomes more "support" than is socially acceptable.

July 4th Around Here

2010-07-04T10:55:00.004-05:00

We're having computer trouble. I think we have computer trouble every July. Dumb computers.

J and Bo got home yesterday. Yeehaw! Avee spent the whole week trying to bribe me into finding a playdate for her. She did not want to make that 3 hour round trip trek again. Poor thing. Friends are hard to find on Saturdays. We made do with portable dvd players though.

As a mother, I pride myself on catching my kids doing potentially nerdy things, (aka, social suicide). Bo had a habit a minute the first five years of his lives. Some long time readers may recall the intermittent clicking between words, or the periodic "refreshing of slobber" when he was 3, etc. I won't have that stuff. It's annoying and unnecessary. Bo has a little neighborhood pal who does silent Broadway shows with his lips every 30 seconds or so. He'll just be standing there and all of a sudden his lips are twitching, stretching, pursing, trying to walk off his face and sometimes his tongue will chase after. My mom says I have to leave him alone because he's not my child and I don't know what goes on his home. In theory, I agree. But when I'm watching this, it's hard to stay quiet. But I do.

Anyway, Bo is a twitcher by nature. He was gone from me for ONE WEEK. He was in good, capable hands and I didn't have one ounce of worry or concern the entire week. That's really saying something coming from an over the top mama bear like myself.

When I pulled up to the airport there sat J and Bo. Bo looked like he had enjoyed a nice chocolate ice cream cone when I saw him sitting on the bench with J. But as he got closer, I saw that I was mistaken.

I shudder to think how many licks it took to make that pretty little face accessory. In his defense, he was in Utah where it's really, really dry. I've laughed every single time I've seen it. It's just such a good reminder to me that I'm not really the boss. It's particularly entertaining when he tries to laugh.

It's Sunday morning. We kind of got to bed late last night and J had to be at church early for a meeting. I told him I would go as soon as the kids were awake. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a sleep nazi. I think sleep is one of the most important things we can give our kids and I'm totally judgmental of people who deprive their children of that essential need. Yeah, I said it, I'm judging people. There are always days, times, when that isn't possible, but as a general rule, sleep should come before most things.

Bo and J got up at 3 am to catch their flight. Although Bo slept during some of their travel time, it obviously didn't compensate for a 3 am wake up time.

When Avee and Danyo got up, I got up with them and we started to get ready. I dressed them, fed them, dressed myself, put on my makeup, all the while watching the clock, noting that Bo has never slept this long. Then it went from, getting to church in the nick of time, to---we'll be a little late.

Then out of nowhere, I sat down on the couch to help Danyo with his shoes, and I started coughing. (If you haven't been within 500 miles of my whining self or aren't on my speed dial, it is probably news to you that I have been sick for 2 weeks, most of which were, "it hurts to function at all" kind of sick.) I could not stop coughing. I was trying to tell Danyo if he wet his pants today, there would be no sparklers tonight (I'm mean, right?) and I couldn't stop coughing. I coughed and coughed and coughed for probably 4 solid minutes. That is an intense workout, y'all. Danyo went from patiently waiting, to irritated, to panicked as he stood in front of me. All my hard work on my face was for naught. Mascara streaks, smeared lipstick, splotchy concealer...ridiculous.

I looked at the clock, we were at that point, 20 minutes late (not even counting the first hour!) and Bo still wasn't up.

So I threw in the towel. Much to Avee's delight. She was begging to put on makeup and I usually let her put on lipstick or "lush" but I recently decided it was time to start drawing the line about public makeup wearing, and time she stop looking like a tiara wearing toddler whenever she wanted. I told her she could put some on after church, when we'd just be staying home. She was thrilled that the after ended up being "after thinking about church for half an hour".

It is 11:05 am. Bo just woke up. The bad news is, we're all going to hell if we die tomorrow. The good news is, we'll be well-rested and in good moods! Except Danyo. I just can't make any guarantees with him and his moods.

And because I need to record this stuff: The last night before J came back, Avee slept with me, and just before we fell asleep, this conversation happened:
Me: (singing) I like the way your eyes dance when you laugh...
Avee: (cute giggle)
Me: (thinking:why, she's never responded positively to my singing)....and how you enjoy your colorful bath...
Avee: Are you talking in your sleep?
Me: No
Avee: Then stop. I don't like hearing singing.
Me: You like hearing the Veggie Tales sing.
Avee: Yeah, but they're VEGETABLES!
Me: What about They Might Be Giants, you like them...
Avee: Okay, fine! I don't like to hear HUMANS, like YOU sing. So just stop.
Me: Okay. But really, I do like the way your eyes dance when you laugh.
Avee: (big sigh) I know Mom, I know.

I love that kid.
Oh yeah, and Happy Fourth of July!

It feels like now, and it feels always, and it feels like coming home...

2010-06-29T20:59:00.005-05:00

Today is mine and J's anniversary. I met him just a little over 10 years ago and we've been married 8.

I think my feelings for J can best be summed up in a Celine Dion song...

For all those times you stood by me
For all the truth that you made me see
For all the joy you brought to my life....

Okay, just kidding. I mean, it's sweet, right? But it's not me. And it's not him either.

A guy I dated half my lifetime ago, once looked into my eyes and very tenderly said, "I see closed doors, and I want to open them, I want you to trust me enough to let them open, I want to be that man..." and then kissed me for the first time. I think it was supposed to be this deep, meaningful, emotional, profound moment, but all I could think was, "What the hell does that mean? Closed doors in my eyes? Are you kidding me? Hmmm, I wonder if they are at least cute doors---maybe french doors.... oooooh what if they are trap doors...."

Moments like this might even sum up my dating experience. I dated some really great guys and on paper, a few of them would be everything I thought I wanted. In reality, not one made my heart skip a beat, I didn't miss most when they were gone, I didn't dream about what our children would look like, I didn't feel like nothing in the world could possibly be wrong when any of them took my hand.

Until J.

The first time he took my hand into his, it felt like coming home. I belonged there, and knew I wanted to be there forever. I never want to forget that feeling. All the way home to Saint Louis that night, Shawn Colvin's "Never Saw Blue Like That" played over and over in my mind. I was romantic once in my life.

J takes me as I am. In my finest moments, he is proud and supportive. In my weakest and darkest, he loves me all the same and lifts me up. He has taught me more about myself, about how I want to be, about being a good parent, and being a good person just by who he is. He doesn't preach, he doesn't complain, he doesn't correct.

He isn't perfect and he ticks me off and I pout and yell at him just as well as the next person. We argue, we disagree, we get on each others nerves. We get stuck in ruts, we get overwhelmed with the everyday things of life, and most moments aren't daisies and butterflies, as I much as I'd like them to be.

But J always tries to make me happy. He responds to my needs. He listens. He cares. He accepts, he forgives, he loves.

Everyone who knows J likes him. Except for maybe some of his employees that he's fired. He is one of the most likable people I know.

I love you J. You've been gone long enough that I miss you too. :) You have given me 8 fantastic years and I love facing life's hurdles with you. You make it easier, you make it worthwhile. There really ain't no place I'd rather be, than next to you sittin' next to me.
Thank you for choosing me.

And also, you're welcome. :)

It's Almost the End of June

2010-06-26T19:09:00.002-05:00

Today was a big day for me. I pulled the plug on my Facebook account and I put J and Bo on a plane to Las Vegas. J was pretty disappointed today when I had to remind/inform him that Bo couldn't go to the casinos, or to most of the shows he was planning to go to. Poor J. He has a hard life. In Vegas, no gambling, no burlesque shows.

I have been considering "quitting" FB for a long time and finally just decided to rip the band-aid off. There are definite positives about it that I will miss, but more about it that I won't and don't need. I also definitely see it as a distraction from blogging and I have missed blogging and want to get back to it. A year later....

Today as I was driving the hour and a half back from the airport (or 27 hours, according to Avee) I was thinking of all the things I wanted to blog about. I decided that some days I can just write three lines and that will be okay. Lately the kids have given one-liners that I definitely want to record, and I hesitate because I don't have anything else to include. That ends now. :)

And I have also been in a funk. For some time now. I kind of want to talk about it as sort of a reality check for me, and maybe as a reminder in the future. That's another post though.

I have been sick for a week. Nothing major, but just feeling really crappy every single day. Each day I think I'll be better and all but yesterday and today, I've felt worse. Worse! That never happens. I am always in such control of my health! Today I felt better and then BAM, about 2 hours after dropping off J and Bo, I felt awful. The reason I bring this up is, I've been a horrible ogre of a mother. My standard for niceness as a mother is generally pretty low. I believe in having thick-skinned offspring. So, for me to call it "horrible ogre", really means something. And with that comes guilt. My kids don't deserve this. But I can't help myself.

So tonight, as I felt myself rapidly declining (just two hours prior I had been singing and rocking out, and indulging in knock-knock jokes--stupid, ridiculous, meaningless, repetitive, annoying knock-knock jokes!) I resolved to take the kids swimming. I could handle hanging out in a pool watching every flip, flop, handstand, breath-holding trick shown me, for at least 45 minutes.

So we loaded up, and headed to the pool. It was pretty crowded. We were there for 10 minutes. Avee and Danyo were showing me their newly acquired swimming skills (Danyo tucks his chin down, face in the water and flops like a madman, the most awesome 3-year-old swimming I have ever seen). Suddenly I see a little commotion nearby and I turn to observe. Moments later I am grossly aware of a giant turd lying in the bottom of the pool. This white girl cain't dance, but this white girl can fly. I grabbed Danyo and dragged Avee and was out of the pool before the other people could finish saying the word. So nasty.

Avee tried to bargain just staying away from it on the other end of the pool. Danyo started singing, "poop water, poop water, nana nana pooooooooop water."

That plan flopped. So now they are sitting on the living room floor eating ice cream. I know how to teach them healthy life habits.

Since I last blogged Bo turned 7 and Danyo turned 3. I look at Bo in amazement of the boy he's become. I don't remember the part where he stopped being a baby.

Last night he lost a tooth, basically in his sleep. He's missing one of his top front teeth, and last night it was a bottom tooth, a little on the side. He actually slept walk downstairs where J was (I was not home) and was kind of wigging out and J couldn't figure out what was going on and then Bo, to counteract the actual wigging out, considerately whispered everything he said. Which was also nonsense, but J thought it was particularly funny that after he paced and frantically waved his hands and acted crazy, he then started to whisper. I think he knew his tooth was coming out, but was too tired to deal with it. In the middle of all this, his tooth came out.

When I got home, I told J that I was a little worried about Bo because I had a memory in my head of looking at him earlier in the evening, and he looked out of sorts. Sort of zoned and possibly troubled. Then J told me about his sleep walking. So I went upstairs and decided to catch Bo defenseless and ask him about his day, in his sleep. (I was sure someone had told him where babies come from and how they get there). He assured me in his sleep that the only thing he had talked about that day was Pokemon and Diary of a Wimpy Kid, and confessed that he was really really tired that evening. So I relaxed and said, "Did you lose your tooth?" He said he had not. I laughed and said, "Yeah you did." He stuck his tongue through the gap and said, "No, I didn't, but it sure feels like I did."

He has no memory of any of it. But he REALLY enjoyed J's recount of the event this morning. As did I.

Anyway, the whole point of the lost tooth----because my precious 7 year old is the only child in the history of children to lose a tooth....

This morning he was talking about his friend's sister (who he is going to visit) and said, "Tharah thaid thomething about theeing...." and I totally burst out laughing. He can't say his "S's". It's totally awesome. It's not that exaggerated, but I didn't know how to type the in between sound of S and Th. I'm pretty sure that is what I'm going to miss the most this week. His newly acquired lisp. It's a toss-up between that and hearing how haaaaaaaaaaaard everything is for him anymore. Pretty sure I'll miss that too.

G'night Y'all!

Some Things Just BEG To Be Shared

2010-06-02T14:51:00.006-05:00

This morning I was barking orders for the kids to put on shoes, finish eating, brush teeth, put away the DS, stop whining, wash their face, get over here, stop touching me, etc, etc, etc.

Bo's school papers hadn't been unloaded from his folder yet so I told him to empty it out and pack up his backpack.

He brought me a book his class had made. It was a book of inventions. I flipped through it, enjoying the sweet first grader scrawl of his classmates, and their creative inventions.

Of course I was anxious to get to his page. I wanted to see if my first grader would have the intellectual capacity to single-handedly change the world with his innocent little first grade idea.
I can see how he thought the idea was a new one, but once he employed his artistic skills....

Seven Years Old

2010-05-22T20:24:00.000-05:00

Bo. What can I say about you? You still light up my life. You are such an amazing little guy, I feel like I won some kind of super awesome lottery that I got to be your mom. And speaking of which, you aren't such a little guy anymore. In fact, every time I notice this, it kind of breaks my heart. You've grown a LOT in the last six months. This year, you lost your last little speech impediment. At 6 and a half, you couldn't say your R's. Somewhere between then and now, you started to. I miss that sweet little "o" at the end of a lot of words.

But I also love the big kid you've become. You are witty and clever and it still surprises me. Recently you and I were looking on half.com to buy a used book and it cost more than you were willing to pay so you suggested that I look on "quarter.com" for a cheaper one. It was so witty, I just didn't expect it from you and didn't get it right away. I love that your humor has developed so much in just 7 short years. I think we are in store for many, many years of laughing with you.

Right now you are standing next to me reading what I write. That's another thing that happened this year. You can read anything and you like to read everything. So, that means no more spelling things to dad to hide something from you, and I have to be careful of what I'm reading or writing because you could easily be watching.

You've read with Dad several Harry Potter books this year, one Percy Jackson (like many things, you like the idea of those books, but they are still a little too advanced for you), a handful of Magic Treehouse books (which are perfect books for you but are painful to read as an adult) and you've recently discovered Diary of a Wimpy Kid. I have to admit, Dad and I think they are pretty hilarious too, and we love that you love them. You read them by yourself but still like having them read to you as well.

You are still reading what I write, and correcting me. Niiiiiiiice, Bo, nice.

I love your smile. You've lost a few teeth. Still the cutest little smile.

You have really started to come into yourself this year. You had a great first grade teacher that helped to cultivate your (you just blurted out "mind!" but that's not what I was going to write) love for reading and writing, and even math. You are a natural at math and love it. But this year, your reading really took off and you've discovered a talent for writing. You have a great mind and a great ability to write what is in it. I hope you write for the rest of your life. I love your stories.

You have a tender heart. You are a tough kid though. You don't cry easily (except when you are tired and then you cry because the wind blows) and you work hard to be brave. You had an incident at school several months ago where you got bullied a little and several kids were being really mean to you. Sometimes other kids don't know how mean they are being and I think that might have been the case. You were tough, you didn't do anything mean back, but you also didn't back down and let them hurt you or see you cry. See, Dad wants to see you be tough, and I want to see you be good, and you managed to do both. :)

In fact, that pretty much sums you up for me. You are such a good, good boy. That's not to say you don't ever get in trouble, and don't ever do things you shouldn't. You are also a very normal boy. :) But you really just naturally make good choices and have a good strong desire to do what is right. I am grateful every day to be the mom of a boy like that. It makes me proud to be a part of your family, and proud to be your mom.

You are somewhat impressionable with your friends. If another kid talks about wanting a cell phone, so do you. But when we ask you what you'd use it for, you kind of laugh, realizing you have absolutely no need for it. It's kind of funny to me.

Today you want to go to the convenient store and buy sunflower seeds, "there are three different flavors to choose from", and you'd like to spit the seeds on the ground like the neighbor kid is doing. No thank you. But it still amuses me that you ask.

This last year your best friend moved away. It was very sad for all of us. Fortunately we got to go visit them soon after the moved, so the sting of their departure was lessened. But we have really really missed them, and you've missed Caleb and Joe a lot. Saying goodbye to friends like that will happen a lot in life---you've really handled it well. You guys send each other "letters" (mostly pictures with one sentence) and talk on the phone and he's still the best friend you've ever had. You are a lot alike in some of the important ways, so I won't be surprised if you stay friends for a long time, even if you don't live near each other.

You basically think Dad is the most awesome person on the planet. That entails smartest, funniest, coolest, most interesting, etc. I agree with you almost 100 percent. Except funniest. I'm way funnier than he is---you just don't appreciate my humor yet. :) You and dad have a good thing going. You are lucky to have such a great dad and he is lucky to have such a cool son.

You don't talk much about how you are feeling, or what you did in a day---but it always comes out eventually. I have had to learn that, and it took me a long time. You like to talk and share, but it's on your terms. When I try to push it, the boy who remembers people and places from when he was two years old answers, "Uh, I can't remember" about something that happened 1 hour before. I'm on to you now. I know that means, "I don't want to talk about it." So as hard as it is for me to do, I leave you alone. Mostly.

Of course, bedtime, when I'm exhausted and ready to have quiet time to myself, you would like to tell me every thought you've ever had since the beginning of your time on this earth. Someday we'll meet in the middle.

This year you really got into PE. You really took to heart all the things your PE teacher taught you. It was really cute to see you practice running with longer strides, and doing exercises you've learned. Running fast does not come naturally to you but you have practiced and practiced and practiced so much to become better. And you have! You are also a really good sport, which really makes me proud. You don't cry or sulk if you don't win. It makes you sad not to win, but it also makes you want to try harder. I LOVE that about you. You ran a mile at a St. Patrick's Day run. Do you know how awesome it is that a six year old ran an entire mile? You did such a great job and I was so proud of your perseverance.

I love you Bo. I know you know that. I hope you never doubt how much we love you. It's bigger than words, bigger than dreams, bigger than Texas.

Two In One Weeeeek!

2010-05-13T10:00:00.000-05:00

I started this post about 5 weeks ago. I still have some "insecurities" posting solely about the kids, as though I have some unspoken obligation to do anything different. I'm just going to put this out there again. They are the reason I started blogging, and having the documentation of their days and the passing years is priceless to me. This post is NOTHING but kid stories, so if that doesn't interest you, hey, there's your warning!

Things Bo said to me this morning:
"Hairbrush spelled backwards is Shur buh ree ahh. Huh."

Bo: I can get high at Sara's.
Mom: Oh really? Who's your dealer?
Bo: Uhhh, on the swings Mom.

Bo:If we never ate sugar, we'd never poop, so we DO need sugar because we need to poop.
Mom: How do you figure no sugar equals no poop?
Bo: There would be no "crap" to get out of our body if we didn't eat sugar.

As I'm recounting this conversation, I realize that it almost sounds like he's telling a joke. Probably the funniest part about it was me, afterward, wracking my brain to think of something our body would need to eliminate (if not sugar), without a detailed physiology lesson.

Yesterday as we were driving to see How To Train Your Dragon, Bo was telling Avee that the movie was made by the same people who made Shrek. She told him Shrek was a totally different movie. He explained that Dreamworks made both of the movies. Avee didn't care. Then Bo asked me, "What are all the movies that Dreamworks has made?" I said, "I have no idea, that's something Dad might know."

To which he casually responded, "You don't know crap."

I think my head just about spun off, right there at the stoplight where we were waiting. It was so uncharacteristic of him and SO RUDE. I don't think he even realized how rude and completely unacceptable it was for him to say that. Believe me, before the next stop light, he was well aware. Along with the eastern side of our city.

More recently:
Bo had joke day at school. Everyone was supposed to bring their favorite joke to share with the class. Bo is very interested in finding the funniest, the fastest, the biggest, the longest, the highest of everything. So I should have known he wouldn't settle for any ol' joke he already knew.

The only problem is, I worked the night before joke day. So J helped. This is a recipe for disaster. This is the joke he helped Bo find and subsequently MEMORIZE. (J claims he didn't help him memorize it, he only read it to him 2-3 times. And then sent him to bed, where Bo undoubtedly repeated it over and over in his mind. So when he woke up, it was the first thing he said to me, verbatim.)
Two hunters are out in the woods when one of them collapses. He doesn't seem to be breathing and his eyes are glazed. The other guy whips out his phone and calls the hospital. He gasps, "My friend is dead! What can I do?". The operator says "Calm down. I can help. First, let's make sure he's dead." There is a silence, then a shot is heard. Back on the phone, the guy says "OK, now what?"

That's the joke my preshy shared with his first grade class. I told him on the way to school that his classmates would not get it and he said, "I didn't get it first either! But I'll just explain it to them like Dad explained it to me." I emailed his teacher beforehand with a half-hearted apology. She wrote back that she was the only one who laughed, but it really cracked her up. I'm pretty sure the fact that he told that joke was funnier than the actual joke.

Later when Bo got home he told me that none of the kids laughed or got it. I thought this would be sad for him but he said, "But it was still the funniest joke!"

"How do you figure?" I asked him.
"Because I saw my teacher showing it to all the other teachers!"

That REALLY made me laugh.

And now for a dose of Avee.

A couple of weeks ago I went to a hair place my friend goes to. I wanted to see if she could fix a terrible and dark color I'd gotten a couple weeks prior. She told me what she could do so I asked if she had any availability in the next week. She said she could fit me in right then. I looked down at my little hooligan children, chewing on their hair, picking their noses and gestured to them. She said, "If you can handle them, we can!" It was awesome. Halfway through, I was sitting under a dryer and Avee was leaning against my legs. A VERY tall man walked in. He was, we later found out, 6 foot 9. He also was built kind of like a woman. With hips and a booty. It was notable.

My entire body tensed up and I scrambled to pull Avee closer to me as I saw her eyes make their way up the entire length of his body. I could heard her loud, high voice, giggling as she said, "You have a butt like my MOM but your a MAN!" I heard it, saw it, felt the burn of embarrassment, all of it. So before she could do that, I got my mouth close to her ear and frantically reminded her, "Remember how we talked about saying things about how people look!? Remember we don't talk about how people look when they can hear, we don't say things that might make them feel said!?!?! REMEMBER!? REMEMBER!?!!!!"

She turned and looked at me like I'd missed taking my crazy pills that morning and I could clearly see that there was no connection between what I said, and what she was about to say to this man. I kept my hand on her arm. I had resorted to the death squeeze for my method of parenting. I would just squeeze her arm so hard she wouldn't be able to remember her thoughts.

Suddenly I hear, "YOU AW SO TAWWWLL!! YOU AW LIKE A GIANT! YOU AW THE TAWLEST MAN IN THE WOLD! Except Jesus. He's tawler. I sink he's 9 feet tawl."

My relief overshadowed the true humor of the moment, but later I got a big kick out of it. A day or so later she came to me with her hands out, shoulders shrugged, "I actually don't know how tawl Jesus is, do you sink he's about 9 feet?"

Lately she has begun to refer to herself as "Mrs. Avee". This provides me endless amusement. I don't know where she comes up with some of the stuff she does. It started when a neighbor kid tricked her and when she found out she went barrelling out of the house with her finger in the air, pointing to the sky, yelling, "NOBODY LIES TO MRS. AVEE!"

That neighbor kid was twice her age.

Danyo is talking up a storm and I pretty much adore every word that comes out of his mouth. Yesterday we went to get in the car and it was raining. He noted, "It's dripping outside. It's dripping all over us!"

He also overuses the phrases, "I'm sorry" "That's not fayoh" and "Dat's miiiiiiine".

He tried to win Avee over the other day when she wasn't sharing by saying, "But I wuv you Avee!" I don't know how she resisted that. She is a cold, cold woman.

I think that's about all.

A Really Long Post

2010-05-10T13:11:00.000-05:00

I started this post 6 days ago. I just finished it today. I didn't write in between. :)

A couple of days ago I got a call from my work telling me I'd been exposed to pertussis. Apparently I came within 3 miles of the sleeping baby who had it. I was to go to the hospital pharmacy and get some antibiotics and get started on them right away. (I'd like to hear your opinion if you think this is reasonable and even rational). I had to go before 5 pm, and totally forgot until 4:45. I went about rounding up the kids in my normal reasonable manner. GET IN THE CAR NOW! I DON'T CARE IF YOU CAN'T FIND YOUR SHOES, THAT'S NOT MY PROBLEM. And stuff like that.

Bo told me he didn't want to go and that I should get a babysitter. I told him that I didn't want to pay for the boy next door to babysit when I could take him for free. He offered to pay the $1.50 for the half hour I needed. He was HAPPY to pay it. He's pretty tight with his money, so this was particularly amusing to me. I got to go child-free and FOR free!

This morning as I was dropping off Avee at preschool I asked her to pick up a little pile of french fry stubs that were on the floor in the back of the van. She said, "How about you just take the van to the car wash? You can get some quarters out of my piggy bank for it." I laaaaaaaauuuuuuughed. Boy did I laugh. And she picked up the french fries.

I have to say though, I do feel some pride in my kids for thinking this way. Initially I was feeling some wonder, how did they get that way? Then I realized that I regularly offer J $50 (or $500, depending on the day) to change a diaper, give baths, switch the laundry. My kids are at least offering their money in the transaction. That means I'm raising children who are better than me. I'm amazing.

I just got back from a delicious 4-5 day visit to Utah. Child-free. Like sugar-free, but better. It was a little tiny slice of heaven. I'm having some hesitation to posting about it (even though I have some spoiled friends who want a play by play) because I will inevitably leave something out and plus, it was kind of boring.

I did throw a mini temper tantrum at the car rental place. The price couldn't have been beat. $13. With taxes, I was out the door in under $20. But the lady at the counter left MUCH to be desired. Typically I'm not one to judge on appearances because I have my own cross to bear in that department. But this lady was not even remotely professional in appearance, attitude, or helpfulness. Maybe she was the owner. That's how I'd be.

Anyway, my fit involved me not wanting a huge deposit taken out of my debit card (that happened to me once at a hotel and it got all screwed up, took more than they should, and took ages to put it back in) and not having an activated credit card. I forgot that my card was inactive and so when she swiped it, it was declined. So I called to have it activated. In the middle of me talking to the service rep, she says, "I can't swipe a card twice! If it's declined, I can't do it again." In the moment I was a little too flustered to respond or be rational, but seriously, can't swipe twice? Are you kidding me?

I had the dude activate my card anyway. Then because I actually gave credence to what she said about double swiping, I tried to get another card activated that had Jay's name on it. But that was a no-go. So I called J to have him call and activate. Again, the lady waited until after I had dialed, and started talking to blurt out, "Your ID and credit card name have to match!!" It was right then and there that I became officially annoyed. I was mid-sentence with J and I stopped, "You know what J, never mind. This is ridiculous. If this lady can't make this work, I'll call for a friend to come and get me." Then I got off the phone and said, "This does not need to be so difficult, you either want my business or you don't. So, you need to stop making this harder for me, and start helping me. If this card doesn't work, I will go somewhere else." She swiped the card, it worked fine, I was in a car within 2 minutes. I didn't even feel badly afterward about being kind of harsh. She was like making up crap to make it hard for me to rent from them. Weirdo.

Then I put my flip-flop and capris wearing self in the car and sent a text to my friend that said "What the hell! I'm wearing flip flops!" as snowflakes fell on the windshield and I waited for the heater to warm me. It was cold the whole time I was there. Rude.

I stayed the first night with Camille. Anyone who knows me well, knows I love Camille. We've known each other for 20 years. Camille is my apple pie, my sittin' on the porch watching fire flies, my hairy legs and she don't care girl. We are both equally horrible at staying "in-touch" (I used to be great, but then three kids and a healthy dose of apathy got in the way--just kidding) but hardly a moment has passed when we get together. Her kids are insanely gorgeous and really quite delightful to be around. It was nice to be able to soak them in without having to manage my own. Her youngest is the exact same age as Danyo. Actually, he's 4 days older than Danyo, and I can honestly say that those four days between A's birth and Daniel's, I did not like Camille one single iota.

I had a nice relaxing morning puttering around, chatting,and leisurely getting ready for the day. Then we puttered around town, had lunch, shopped, etc. It was truly a slice of heaven for me.

One highlight: I was trying all morning to get in touch with our friend Anna. Anna is a friend from college we both absolutely love. And she has 3 kids ages 1, 2, and just turned 4. So yeah, we figgered she was pretty busy, but I kept harassing her. Finally we gave up on the cell number I had tried another route. Her husband's name is quite unique so we were confident we could find it online. We did. I called it a couple of times and it went straight to voicemail. So, I figured that's why she hadn't called back, she has been tied up on the phone with someone else.

I don't do "second best" very well, so I called and left a harassing message on that phone. I said, "Anna! Answer your phone! I want to see you! If you don't answer your phone I am going to show up on your doorstep, wrapped in saran wrap and there will be a scene, and I'm fairly certain the police will be called."

And I hung up.

An hour or so later Anna called back. She had had to take the kids to the doctor. So I apologized for leaving threatening messages on her machine. "What message? What machine?"

"Oh, on your land line, your 592 number."

"Uhhhh, I don't have a 592 number...."

So we laughed and laughed and laughed and I thought I was going to collapse from laughing so hard. Then we said, "But it was your husband's name!" and that's when Anna laughed and laughed and laughed and said, "Oh, that's my mother-in-law's number!"

So yeah. That was pretty awesome.

Camille and I ate 3 meals that day between noon and 7 pm. That is also the awesome part about Camille. I'm twice her size and she can eat twice as much as me. Everyone needs a skinny friend like that. I'm pretty sure she's a convert to the love of Pho too. I'll have to verify that for sure though.

Later we met up with some of my friends from my mission. We talked nonstop. For like, 4 hours. It was at The Melting Pot so it was really a fun experience altogether.

I spent the night with my friend Alicia from the mission. I was laying down in the bed waiting for her to finish in the bathroom so we could chat away. The next sound I heard was the click of the door at 8 am as she was leaving the room for the day. I am fairly certain I haven't slept that soundly since 1992.

My friend Kiki picked me up at the hotel and we headed to SLC to pick up another mission friend. She flew in with her 6 year old that I've read about on the blog, but never met. He's darling. And hilarious. At one point we were discussing a place to go to lunch. Someone mentioned "should be kid friendly" and Henry piped up, "McDonald's is fun for kids!" They had later plans to go to a birthday party at Chuck E Cheese. Henry thought they flew from North Carolina to Utah just to go to Chuck E Cheese's. Pretty awesome.

That night I met up with a bunch of bloggers for a baby shower for Carrie. I got to meet some new bloggers and visit with some "old" ones. That was a really great night. The highlight for me was when I sat down next to Compulsive Writer and told her my name. My REAL name. She greeted me kindly and then I decided, in case she knew my blog, I'd mention that. So I said, "I'm Nobody." She swiftly threw her arm around me and pulled me close, "Oh no! You are not! Everyone's welcome here!"

I didn't really know what to think. I thought it was a hilarious response, but I didn't know if she was playing off of my name, like a lot of people do. Then I heard someone say, "No, her blog is Nobody Called Today."

She was serious. What a really sweet lady. And I've laughed about that probably 17 times since.

I left with my bff Jen and we picked up Kiki on the way to our hotel in Sandy. They were planning on pulling an all-nighter. I planned on faking enthusiasm it for a good twenty minutes to avoid being ridiculed and then go to sleep. I did just that. In the morning, when I woke up fairly refreshed, Kiki told me she thought I had sleep apnea. I was startled to hear this. Until I learned that her definition of sleep apnea was that I "moved around ridiculously a lot". I was just loving the whole, I got a bed to myself, and living it up!

These girls are my people. I love being with them. I love talking, laughing, introspecting, making fun of, being made fun of, crying, laughing, with them. It was wonderful.

We had our mission get-together. Beforehand we stopped at a benefit garage sale. I bought two picture frames to bring home because J says I can't go into a store without buying a frame.

I spent all the rest of Saturday with mission friends. It reminded me of how amazing the girls I served my mission with were. They still are.

Sunday I got to visit with Anna again. She made me and Jen this amazing sandwich. She made us each a sandwich and a half. We objected to her making us so much. She replied, "It's just one and a half!" I thought that was so funny. And in classic Nobody fashion, I ate a sandwich and a half, while Jen delicately nibbled on the half and wrapped the whole to go. You'll note that neither of us left anything. Them sandwiches was GOOD.

My trip was so rejuvenating and so everything I could have hoped for and more. Thank you to all of my friends who uh....let me 'pend the night, paid for my meals, chauffeured me around, flat ironed my hair, laughed at my jokes....

And thank you Jay for holding down the fort so effortlessly. My kids missed me, but they didn't need me. They also managed to eat an entire Costco bag of salt water taffy.

Victory Is Mine

2010-04-27T09:35:00.000-05:00

My youngest child is named after one of my brothers. Of the nine kids in my family, this brother was the golden child. He was perfect in every way. He was a good son, he was a great brother, everyone loved him, and no one begrudged him the title of "Mom's Favorite" because he was our favorite too.

So, I named my kid after him. Because I wanted a boy like that. It was a long shot, really. I mean what's in a name?

One of my most vivid childhood memories involves my older brother. He was cleaning the kitchen. He was probably 9 or 10 at the time. Looking back, I realize he was probably doing extraordinary things for a child of that age. But at the time I was only 4 or 5 and everybody older than me was the same (they could all stay up later, ride their bikes further and got a bigger bowl of ice cream).

My parents were standing in the doorway watching him. He was doing something ridiculous like scrubbing the floorboards with a toothbrush. Or re-grouting the counter. They were oohing and ahhing and giving him appropriate praise. For my brother, while the praise was a nice bonus, the joy of cleaning was enough for him. For me, I'd do anything for that praise. So I eyed my parents standing there giving him attention and I grabbed a rag and started intently scrubbing the foot mat of a small stool/seat. I was going to get those ridges SINGING the shine. I had one eye on the task and one eye on my parents, waiting for them to notice me.

My parents, if nothing else, are authentic. I think they called me on my game. Sure, they also gave me some praise, probably for the effort of trying to get praise. I remember feeling the victory there was weak. I couldn't have thought to spit shin drawer handles like my brother did, so anything I did would be lame in comparison.

But now, the victory IS mine. I have my own little clean freak. Even in the face of opposition, he has emerged anal retentive about cleanliness. Yee to the HAW!

Yesterday we were driving around town and passed a regular sight. I don't know WHAT it is, but it's shaped like a satellite dish, it's humongous, and it's painted bright yellow with a happy face. It's really a cheerful sight. I pointed it out to Danyo.

I said, "Isn't that cool?"
He said, "I want to take it home!"
I thought, yeah, me too, that would be fun, we could roll around in a giant bowl, take pictures, have a great time.

He said, "It's dirty, I want to take it home and wash it."

This morning Danyo has been chasing me around the house demanding that I wash his favorite blanket. "It smayohs" he tells me, "Cween it!" he demands. I have heard countless stories of parents having to sneak their child's blanket to the washer and it often resulting in major meltdowns. So, it makes me laugh that Danyo is the opposite of that. I told him I'll get to cleaning it when I get to the rest of my household chores. After the Soaps are watched and the bon-bons eaten.

I'm Tired of Thinking of Titles

2010-04-13T09:09:00.005-05:00

I have lots of thoughts running through my head during the day, potential blog posts. I haven't had that in ages. Is this the re-emergence of Nobody blogging? Maaaayyyyyybeeeee.

I wish I could say they were meaningful and well-formed thoughts. Mostly they are me figuring out why I'm so dumb about some things, or just laughing at what my kids say. So yeah, ain't gonna win no prizes for meaningful here.

I imagined the other day that we settled here in Iowa and effectively became Iowans. And then I became annoyed with all the people who made fun of Iowa. Like I do. It would be fitting for the life lessons I tend to learn. I'm going to start making fun of people who vacation in Cancun all the time. For good measure.

Yesterday I had throw-downs with both of my kids. It made me realize what really good children we have. I think they are a tad bit on the spoiled side, and that's my doing---but in general, they are really good, responsible, responsive, decently-mannered kids.

Bo has a retaliatory temper toward Avee and when I made him and two friends go back outside and stop bugging Avee on the Wii, he turned off the game on his way out. He got in big trouble for that and spent nearly half an hour upstairs wailing and writhing on the floor. I wish I was joking about the writhing part. I don't think it's ever NOT made me laugh, how he gets Fainting Goat Syndrome when he hears something he doesn't like, and he's tired.

While we were enjoying that special mother/son time upstairs, I finished changing the sheets in the boys' rooms and moved into Avee's room for some straightening up. I discovered a pile of clothes smashed behind a toy box, covered a little by a feather mattress I had stored in her closet. She's gotten lectured about this probably 4 or 5 times in the past. I've made it easy for her to put away everything except shirts and dresses, which she is supposed to put on the end of her bed for me or J to hang up. In this pile were about 3 skirts, 5 tops, 2 pairs of tights, 1 dress, and a couple of pairs of pants. I was really, really annoyed because a few of the things were things I had specifically missed and spent time looking for. Some other things were past the season to wear, so basically she "wasted" some perfectly good skirts. :)

I called her in from outside and within 2 seconds of me pointing to the pile on her bed, she was crying and whimpering. I told her she had to sit in her room for 20 minutes, in hopes that she would remember this unpleasantness next time she went to stash what she should put away. She cried almost the entire time. But two things kept making me laugh. She would forget she was sad and start talking to me. I would forget she was in time out, and respond. So we had about 8 conversations like this.

"Why are you putting Bo's shirt in Danyo's closet? That's Bo's"
"It used to be Bo's but it fits Danyo now."
"Why doesn't it fit Bo anymore?"
"You are in a time-out, you are not supposed to be talking to me right now."
"YOU'RE TALKING TO ME!!!!"

She was right, every time. And oh-so wrong.

She also claimed several times how she didn't like me anymore. I've always wondered what the exact right response to that should be. I say so many different things, "Yes you do, it's okay, I still like you, you don't mean that...." etc.

After her time out was over and she came to me for a big hug, I sat down with her and we talked about her saying things she doesn't mean when she's mad.

I started with, "You love me, don't you?" She nodded. I said, "remember how a few minutes ago when you were mad and you said you didn't love me? You don't really mean that and I want you to think about what you are saying when you are mad. It's not okay for you to think of every mean thing you can to try and make me sad, just because you are mad."

"I never said I didn't love you. I said I don't like you. And when I said it, I meaned it. I don't like you when you are mean to me. But I like you now."

Excuse me? How do you get off being more logical and articulate than me little lady!??

It was a huge realization for me. She doesn't really know how to say, "I don't like what you are doing right now and I'm really very mad!" So she says, "I don't like you." I always hear, "I've never liked you and I don't care how mad I am, you aren't worthy of my love anymore!"

I love having this new knowledge.

My friend told me last week she took Avee, Avee's friend, and her son to McDonald's. At the drive thru she asked, "Do you guys like fries?" They all said yes. When she got them home, not a one of them ate their fries. So she said, "I thought you guys said you wanted fries, why aren't you eating them?"
Avee said, "You asked if we liked fries, not if we wanted them. We said we like them."

I wonder how Avee manages dealing with us sloooooooow adults.

I lopped off all of little D's hair. He has the reddest hair of the three and it's terribly cute to me. I took him out somewhere yesterday and it was floppy and goofy looking, so I decided it was time. It was painful watching big chunks of his darling hair fall to the ground, but I know he's got hair like me so it will be back in full floppy form in no time. As the dust settled and the last buzz was made, Bo exclaimed, "He looks just like me!" Bo hears it all the time how much they look alike, but now with matching haircuts, it's undeniable.

Later when J got home from running a quick errand, Bo pointed him out and said, "Tell me that boy doesn't look just like me!" So many things about that statement crack me up. It is very very Smith, and since he seems so much like J, I love to see a little Smith peeking through like that.

Danyo says I can "finish dat mom" and then I need to go light a sparkler for him. So I better get back to my real job.

The end.

Blogging In The Easter Aftermath

2010-04-05T09:15:00.000-05:00

For the last 2-3 weeks I've been meaning to sit down and write, but it just isn't coming naturally anymore. I'm kind of in mourning because I do love having documentation of my ever-fascinating life. But I guess more than "in mourning", I'm lazy. Because it just ain't happening.

Recently I took a road trip to Missouri with just the kids. Things have been really crazy for J at work and he could not get away. It was Spring Break and my kids live and breathe to be in Missouri with the relatives. Aunt S's house is like a wonderland for them and Uncle David is like the biggest, funniest, craziest, strongest kid they've ever played with. Plus there are doting grandparents and animals. None of which we offer up here in Iowa. I try to dote, but I'm not really sure how it's done.

On the way down, I had to stop FOUR times to go to the bathroom. I'm usually so annoyed by my children's fairly sturdy bladders, but this time, I was the weak link. Even Bo expressed his annoyance with me after stop 3. "Oh come ON!" said he. It really doesn't matter what he's expressing his exasperation with, I never get tired of hearing him say that.

While in the bathroom of a truck stop in Iowa, I overheard this:
"I heard they are going to make tanning beds illegal."
"Really? Wow!"
"Yeah, because of the 30 million people who use them, 1 million have gotten cancer."

Now, it's my belief that in most places, this would be said matter-of-factly, and maybe even with some disbelief that something so deliberate has caused so much cancer. But it was said disparagingly. Like for the 1 million that had cancer, it was a fluke, or the odds 1/30 were not that big of a deal. I stifled a laugh and rushed out without drying my hands. I ain't gonna mess with no Tanning Bed Iowa Woman. I know my limits.

We drove down on Avee's birthday. She could not get to Mah-zoe-wee fast enough. Within twenty minutes of our departure she was asking if we'd crossed the border yet. After two hours my "not yet" response was just getting ridiculous. At one point when I said we were still quite a ways away, she responded with a lot of inflection in her voice, but her face completely expressionless, "You gotta be kidding me!" I happened to see her face and thought the blank expression in her face with what she said was really funny. I made mention of it later and was reminded how very Napoleon Dynamite it was. Which, she happened to be watching at the time she said it. So yeah, that's Avee.

My little baby girl turned 5. I have every intention of backdating a love letter to her for her birthday. So don't be surprised if some random March post shows up in your news feed. Nothing to see, just chronicling so I have proof when she's older. Proof that I did love her and she isn't adopted. And that she is in fact smarter than me.

While in Missouri the kids got totally dirty every day. They fell into bed exhausted every night and were beyond happy. At first I laid down with them, thinking that they'd need me because it wasn't their norm. Of course they didn't object. But by day 3 I was tired of that and just left them to their own devices, with the lights out. I'm pretty sure they fell asleep faster that night and the next, than they did when I was in there. I don't know why I'm such a slow learner with that kind of thing.

Today is day 10 of Spring Break. Bo kept quoting his teacher about 10 days of Spring Break. The first time, I stopped and did the math. With weekends, it was 9 days. I just figured she was stretching it to 10 for a teaching purpose. I did find it a little odd that she did that. Bo kept telling everyone about his 10 day spring break. His Grandma expressed surprise to me that he got two full weeks off from school. I told her that they were just counting creatively, he only had one week.

So yeah. Turns out he has this Monday off. Why? I don't know. I'm beginning to think that the calendar setter for this school district likes to party on Sundays or something. We had a random Monday off at Christmas Break too. It's a good thing Bo's a persistent know-it-all or I would have needlessly gotten dressed and fed my kids this morning.

Let me see if I can come up with anymore mindless drivel for this post....

I guess that's all. Oh now, wait, wait, I just thought of something. The other day a commercial for the new Miley Cyrus movie came on. J was passing through the room and I said, "I heard that movie was really really good. Like, surprisingly good." J did what I LIVE for and he's done since we met. He stared at me, without responding. He searched my face for even the remotest indication that I was joking. He found nothing. He trusts me, and he's yet to see the depths my deadpanning abilities can go and so he responded, "Really? Huh. Wouldn't have thought that." That's all I want. Verbal confirmation that he believes me and then I can laugh and laugh about how funny I really really am. So I did. Strange thing is, he didn't think I was that funny. Whatever, must have been a fluke.

Avee's Five!

2010-03-27T19:47:00.001-05:00

Avee.
In a million years I couldn't have dreamed I'd have a more wonderful daughter. I love you in so many ways for so many reasons. And for no reason at all. Your smile still moves me. I love that no matter what, when I see your smile, the only thing that matters is that you smile like that again.

You have really grown a lot this year. You started preschool and you were still just so little to me. You grew taller and lost some of that sweet little baby face, for a more big-girl, beautiful face. You've really blossomed into this amazing little girl that I am so so proud to call mine.

You are always happy to see me after we've been apart. You loved your preschool teachers so much and it made me happy to let you spend part of your day with them. I watched you give hugs spontaneously when I knew the person you gave it to really needed it. You have that in you, an innate sensitivity, even if you don't understand. I hope you never lose that.

Your best friend is Ella. You two together are hilarious and darling. You are a match for each other too. I love to watch you play together, as you figure out the give and take of relationships and compromise.

For your birthday I got you a doll to play with because you love to nurture and care for and dress up other toys. I thought a doll was the perfect gift. While you liked it, it wasn't the perfect gift. You'd still rather canoodle with a hard plastic mouse and dress up a pink stuffed poodle. You are quirky that way. And you know it's quirky. And you love it. I love that about you.

You are so tender and so amazing with your little brother Daniel. There have been days when I've come into a room and you have your arms wrapped around him as you watch a movie. You've changed his diaper when you felt it needed changing. When he gets in trouble with me, he comes to you for comfort and you never let him down. You've often come after me with the threats if I "don't start being nice to him!" I try to explain to you that I'm not being mean, I just have to teach him things sometimes that he doesn't like. You don't care---if he cries, I'm not doing it right. What a sweet little heart you have.

You learned about teeth at preschool and how to take care of them and why we take care of our teeth and good foods to eat. You are so vigilant about it now. I've actually had to tell you to not brush so long or you don't have to brush that much. What a crazy thing for a mom to have to say! I try not to say stuff like that because I love your dedication to something that matters to you.

Your sense of humor really developed this year. You spent most of your twos and threes thinking that "poop" and "butt" were the funniest things ever uttered. And you uttered them a lot. I think being at preschool helped you figure out some other things that were funny. I'm pretty sure the other two are still front-runners though.

You are an amazing helper. You love to help me cook, and actually, I should clarify, you like ME to help YOU cook. You can do it all and love to. When it's time to clean up, you jump to it and can clean as well as any adult I know. This really impresses me, over and over. You seem to get the idea that getting it done feels good and getting it done faster leaves more time for what you want to do.

You love going to Missouri to visit Grandmas and Grandpas and aunts and uncles. You aren't afraid of Malachi anymore like you were when you were first four. Uncle David is still one of your most favorite people on the planet. I think the only person who even comes close to competing with him is Bubbaface. You adore him. When he gets older, he's going to adore you. It's inevitable.

You're a bit of a couch potato. On one hand, it kind of cracks me up, on the other hand, I want you to be doing more than singing theme songs for every show on television. It's hard not to be like that in the winter in Iowa though. You aren't a big fan of the cold. And I have video footage of you crying and crying because no one would let you throw a snowball at them. You wanted someone to go stand outside and just let you bean them with snowball after snowball. You didn't think it was reasonable that no one was willing. That's pretty much the only memory I have of you wanting to be outside this past winter.

This year you had some issues with swiping stuff. You never had bad intent, you just wanted something and even if you knew you shouldn't, you took it. The funny part of this was how/where you'd hide what you stole. The more serious part was, I didn't want this to be the beginning of a really bad/dangerous habit. It was hard for you to understand why you couldn't just take something if you really wanted it. I am happy to say, that with the help of a wise and kind friend (that you happened to steal from) you really did stop. Whether you like it or not, you seem to understand that it's not okay to take things that aren't yours. Even more recently you've gotten better about telling the truth even when it's something you don't want to admit.

I have a lot of admiration for your desire and effort to do what's right, even when you don't want to.

The first time you took something, you didn't realize you couldn't just have it. It was a huge fake diamond key chain. If ever there was something meant for you, that was it. After you got "busted" with that (we were in St. Louis visiting our friend Sharon), you figured out quickly to hide the loot until you were in the clear.

Avee, I could write about/to you for ages. You are one of my favorite topics in the world. You are beautiful, charming, sassy, sweet, intense, considerate, affectionate, caring, athletic, confident, and mine. Daddy and I love you more than we could ever tell you, more than you will ever understand until you have a beautiful, charming, sassy, sweet, etc----daughter of your own.

I love you bigger than Texas and to the moon and back.

'Cause I Can

2010-03-18T14:05:00.004-05:00

Has it really been over a week since I posted? Time sure is flying. Last night I mentioned something about Easter to J and he said, "Wow, it's already almost Easter!? Feels like yesterday was the beginning of January!" I seriously bit my tongue to keep from saying, "Yeah, that's what happens when you get older. Now you know how I've been feeling for the last two years."

See, that's funny. Because I'm two years older than J. You know, I never thought to ask, but I wonder how he feels about being 27 for the rest of his life. I'm so selfish sometimes.

I'm pretty sure I have the funniest babysitter on the planet. Earlier, I ran to the store quickly with the two younger kids. When I got back, there was a message from her. She said, "I was just calling to see if you needed me to babysit tonight because I remember you needed me to babysit a lot on Thursdays last year." I laughed right out loud. I should hire her to keep track of my life, because I sure has heckfire couldn't do that good of a job!

Earlier in the week I got a text that asked if I needed her anytime in the near future. I can always tell when she's wanting to buy something. That and she can't get enough of my kids.

Yesterday Avee came home with a rock that had her name written on it. She was told it would bring her luck. I guess if her preschool can't take her to the blarney stone, they'll just label some rocks and make do.

This is the little girl who tries to steal a rock every time she leaves her friends house, from their nicely landscaped front yard. This is the girl that once landed herself a smooth, gray rock that fit perfectly fit in the palm of her hand, and named him "Cole". Or "Coley" most days. She slept with Cole, bathed with Cole, tried to feed Cole, and loved him desperately.

So, you can probably understand my surprise and amusement when this morning she picked up her nice, labeled, good-luck rock and chucked it carelessly across the floor. "This thing is a piece of crap. It doesn't bring me any luck. It's just a stupid rock with my name on it."

I didn't say anything. I believe the relationship between a girl and her rock is sacred. I'm sure they'll work it out.

While I was at the store, waiting for my cash back from the cashier, Danyo did a little ballistic spaz attack on the debit/credit card machine thingy. Punch, smacking, shaking it. I grabbed his hands to stop him (He really was just being a spaz, he knows that kind of stuff makes Bo and Avee laugh, so he was shooting for the moon) and said, "Really, Danyo? Really!?" I learned that word from my friend Rebecca. It means a million things and in the moment you say it, it means one thing. And that thing is always very clear, in the moment.

Danyo looks back up at me with his ridiculously adorable blue eyes and squishy cheeks and says, "Ya! Rilly Mom! Rilly!"

The people behind me who had previously been annoyed that I went to the 20 item checkout with 19 things, the cashier who wasn't enchanted by my adorable little angels in the cart, all burst out laughing. I know they were laughing at me. I'm okay with that. All of them said something along the lines of "I guess you've met your match."

I never spoke to my mom like that!

You know how I can get away with outright lying like that on my blog? It's because my mom is too nice, she will never call me out. She reads every one of my posts, she almost always comments (in an email), but she will not out me on the internets. For the liar that I am.

Well, I got called in to work tonight. So that means instead of laying around in "workout clothes" eating snack packs of chips, I have to get dressed and comb my hair. It's a little depressing, but someone has to put the junior bacon cheeseburgers on the table. That's my husband's humor, by the way.

Nice Weather Makes Me Happy

2010-03-10T19:00:00.003-06:00

It's beautiful outside and has been for a few days. It's making me doubt the scientific veracity of the Groundhog. I hate it when media lies to us and stuff.

I was outside fixing Avee's bike and got to enjoy the beautiful weather and watch the kids play. Some neighborhood "hooligans" came around (two brothers who stole Bo's teeny, tiny, piece o' crap scooter a year or more ago) and Bo immediately came and hovered by me. He watched their every move (15 yards away) like a hawk. I had a lot of thoughts/emotions about this. It made me happy that he stayed away from trouble naturally. I secretly delighted in being his mama and protector. And I was worried about his worrying. He is genuinely afraid of these boys, even though they've never actually done anything to him. He's just seen them be rowdy and knows they steal.

So, since Bo wouldn't leave more than a 3 foot perimeter from me, the kids he plays with were close by too. I asked the our neighbor, the one who's provided me with lots of entertainment while we've lived here, "Who's your teacher this year, Hunter?"

Hunter scrunches his face, thinking hard. He tips back his head and I can visibly see how hard he is working to remember his teacher's name. In March. I laughed and asked incredulously, "You seriously don't know your teacher's name!?" He responded, totally unfazed, "I'm not really good with names."

Later he came inside with Bo and they were wrestling. Bo called out, kind of gleefully, "I know why you are beating me, it's because you're so big and chubby!" He wasn't even trying to be mean, but my head whipped around and Bo caught my reaction and quickly added, "Kinda. Only kinda big and chubby."

"Kinda" makes everything better in Bo's world.

Later Hunter accidentally bumped Danyo and Danyo took a spill. He said, "Oh, I'm sorry Danyo!" Danyo got up, brushed off his hands and said, "s'okay Hunto." Hunter turned to me wide-eyed, "He says WORDS! Did you hear that!?"

Do you see why he's provided so much entertainment? He's just about the sweetest kid too.

In other news, Danyo is a rotten little stinker. He's so dang cute and so dang ornery. It's a terrible predicament he's put me in. He won't stop saying shut up. Seriously, we do NOT say this word at our house. I guess I say it on the phone with friends. I'm much more rude to my friends than I am to my family. But really, he is incessant.

"Danyo, let's change your diaper."
"Sut.up."
"Danyo, let's go pick up Avee."
"Sut. up. Oh! Okay!"
"Danyo, get down from there."
"SUT UP!!!!!"

The other night he got sent to his room, had to apologize, scolded over and over and he would NOT stop saying it at the dinner table. And I couldn't keep a straight face. I spent the entire dinner with my back to him because of it.

Today I decided that he liked the "wildness" of saying something he shouldn't. So I said it back to him one time. He kind of stopped short. So I did it another time. This time Avee heard me and she got ALL up in my bidness about saying bad words, especially to Danyo. Then tonight, while I was bathing them, he said it to me again. So I said it back. And Avee said, "What did I say Mom?! I do not want to hear you saying bad words! If you keep saying bad words, then I'm going to start saying them!"

I laughed and laughed. But she was serious. She used my exact formula for yelling at/threatening the kids. I ask a question, albeit rhetorical, then I give the scold, then I add the threat/consequence. She's a good listener.

Now it's bedtime.
I love bedtime. Well, I hate bedtime, but I looooooooove after bedtime. Sooooo quiet and peaceful.

I Have No Title

2010-03-07T19:06:00.005-06:00

The other day I was telling a friend about a conversation I'd had with Avee. She's been very sweet and somewhat sensitive of late. This particular conversation, she prefaced something she was going to ask me with, "I can do whatever I want you know." I distractedly responded with, "Well, actually you can't. As long as you live with me and dad, you have to follow our rules. When you grow up and move out, you can do what you want." I'm happy to say that I didn't bitterly add, "and being a grown-up on your own sucks". Mostly because I'm classy and don't say the word "sucks".

About two minutes later Avee popped up next to me. Her eyes were red. Her lower lip was trembling. Big ol' tears were streaming. She stared up at me pathetically. This is how Avee expresses her sadness to me. No words, no mournful sobs, no verbal accusations. Just the powerful, powerful accusation of her desperately sad face. She widens her eyes for effect, and the message of her expression is, "Do you see what you have done to me? Are you happy now!?"

I was startled by this. This time. I hadn't scolded, I hadn't told her no tv, I hadn't told her no "Robin Noodles". I didn't think I had done anything.

"Avee! What's wrong? Why are you so sad?"
She flung herself on me and sobbed, "You said I was going to move out. I don't ever want to move out!" I assured her she could live with us until she was 47 if she wanted, while simultaneously assuring J with my expression and a few head shakes that we'd be free of children sooner. I walk such a tightrope around here!

When I told my friend about this, she suggested I write it down. I kind of laughed. I pretty much have the whole "writing every blessed thing down" mastered. Then she told me about a hope chest type thing she did for her daughter, and gave to her on her "golden" birthday. She collected things from all the places they had lived (they had been military, so they had lived in more exotic places than Iowa and Provo) and other little meaningful things.

I thought this was such a fantastic idea. I thought about all the things I could get at Wal-mart over the years....

Really, I did think it was a great idea. I contemplated buying little books to write down what the kids say and do. Then I thought of all the pressure of finding just the right book. Then I thought of keeping track of the book. Remembering to record things. Actually paying attention to my kids...

It all seems like more work than I'm willing to do. So I'll just blog.

J went to Missouri this weekend for a quick trip. It's just me and the kids. I was hoping that J would take the kids and it would just be me and the cherry coke. But the trip ended up being a shorter one than we initially planned, and Avee and Bo weren't buying into that. It's about a six hour drive and they've done it enough to know one day in Missouri isn't enough for 12 hours of driving.

So, since J's gone and he gets to enjoy two days of no whining, no diapers, no stupid tv shows, no fighting, and no messes, AND doesn't have to be around the kids either---I've gone and rebelled.

We went and got a betta. I just took Bo. I thought he'd be thrilled, but he was acting pretty nonplussed about it. Then as we were leaving the first store we went to (I was price matching) he started singing and dancing about getting a betta. So I guess he's just a slower processor.

Anyway, we got a lovely blue betta. As we were driving home Bo was thinking of names. I was hoping he would name the fish something crazy, like "Van Gogh". He was thinking, "Zach". Which cracked me up. So I jokingly suggested his best friend's name. He hesitated a moment and I got nervous about having a fish named Caleb. Then he said, "That would be a little weird, how about Joe!?" Which is Caleb's older brother. So, Joe it is!

This morning when we woke up, Joe was dead.

I could NOT believe it. I mean, goldfish are notorious for this kind of thing, and I've kept goldfish alive longer than that!!!

If you are in the least bit inclined to criticize me or scold me even REMOTELY about not keeping a fish alive---you should probably just step away from the keyboard. I will make fun of you mercilessly for months. I will probably even hunt you down and throw our future dead bettas at you when you go to get in your car. Every day. For a long time.

I just had to put that out there because as I was googling "How can I tell if my betta is really really dead?" there was all kinds of crazy talk as though people like me were willingly participating in the gross and cruel practice of fishocide. How do people like that function in the real world!?

Anyway. I think we'll try again. Maybe not a betta.

RIP Joe. I truly hope you really were dead.

Things I Just Have To Record

2010-03-04T18:37:00.005-06:00

Often when I don't want to do something, instead of coming off as lazy or uncaring, I ask Bo, "Do you want me or Daddy to....?" and 98% of the time, Bo chooses Daddy. I know this about him. I don't ever pose that question with the other two because I am the sun the moon the stars and the squishy jungle gym for the other two. The only thing I win over J with, is snuggling. I always get picked for that. Again, the squishiness.

Anyway, Bo has a little St. Patrick's Day race thingy coming up and I sweetly asked, "Who do you want to run it with you, me or Dad?" When he chose J, I dramatically protested.
"Why?! Why not me!? You know I'm prettier than Daddy, don't you want a pretty person to run with you!?" Bo gave me a look I often see on J's face that says, "I think you are joking but I'm not sure, and I'm afraid to laugh in case you aren't." So I asked Bo, "Who's smarter, me or Dad?"

"Daddy is."
"WHATEVER!"
"You didn't know trees could be male or female!"
"Neither did you!" Knowing full well I was accusing a 6 year old of not being as smart as a 32 year old.

So I thought I'd show Bo that we are all smart in different ways. "Hey Daddy, what season am I on the color wheel?"
J answers confidently "Winter."
"Ha! Not even close!"

They both stared at me like I was ridiculous. Because I am.

"See, even I know things that Daddy doesn't know."

To which Bo proclaimed the most truthful statement that has ever been uttered, "Yeah, things about YOU!"

And Bo won that round.

The other day we were all sitting on the couch, the kids may have been vying for space on the highly coveted, and rarely accommodating lap, when Bo accidentally bumped Danyo. Danyo who is still hard to understand at times, often speaks very quietly if he does speak, and rarely more than the requisite minimum, pointed sternly toward the door, scowled at Bo and commanded, "Get. Out. My. House. Bo!"

We all laughed at such authority from the smallest member of our family. Where in the heck do they come up with this stuff?! Pretty sure I haven't kicked anyone out of my house recently...

Today Bo did a trial run for the upcoming race. I thought he would run the equivalent of about a quarter mile, at most. He ran an entire mile. He pushes himself and really likes to learn how to do things right and well, but running doesn't come naturally to him. You may think that's an odd thing to say, but probably not if you've met either of us in real life. When J asked him how it was he started with a rote, "Good--" and then cut it short and switched to "Heartpounding!"

I love his little exploration of words. Which actually leads me to another hilarious conversation I overheard the other day. It's a little crass if you are offended by the subject of "bathroom humor" so skip to the end if you are. :)

Avee is really into "tricking" people lately. "Do you sink my toes are moving inside my boots?"
"Yes"
"AHAHA! They aren't, I TRICKED YOU!"

She does that about everything.

So it was not unusual that she thought of yet another thing to "trick" us with. This is the conversation I heard:

Avee: Bo, do you sink I'm going to toot?
Bo: Uh, yeah.
Avee: I am!! HAHAHAHA I tri--! Heeeey, no fay-yoh! You weren't supposed to guess yes! You can't tell if I'm going to toot!
Bo:It doesn't matter if I know or not. If you ask me if you are going to toot, eventually you are going to, so the answer will always be yes.

That's when I interrupted and said, "Did you really just say the word 'eventually'?" Later the actual content of the conversation had me in tears. Predictable Avee, outwitted by logical Bo.

Oh yeah, this one I posted to FB and have told about eleventy-billion people about it, but I need it recorded forever.

About a week ago we were all puttering around on Saturday morning. Bo is often working on a project at the table or the computer, drawing, writing a story, crossword puzzles, etc. Out of nowhere he asks, "What would win in a contest of more important, gravity or Martin Luther King?"

J and I are getting really good at not laughing right out loud anymore. Really good.

I of course had no answer, so later I asked him what he thought the answer was. He stated matter-of-factly that gravity was the obvious winner, because without it we would all be floating around everywhere.

So I asked then what would happen without Martin Luther King.

"Well, Shawn just wouldn't be in my class."

There you have it, in case your children ever pose this question or even if you ever make it onto Jeopardy or Smarter Than a Fifth Grader---you can say Nobody taught you nothin'.