March 31, 2009

Hello? Missing Persons?

So, if I just vacuumed them up with the rest of the mess, do you think anyone would notice?


Perhaps the clean apartment would give me away. Or maybe the unnatural peace and tranquility would arouse suspicions?


Nope, I just don't think I'd get away with it. The full Cheerio box would totally give me away.


And who needs floor lamps? I don't.
I don't know why I (sniff) bought this stupid thing anyway. (sniff) Its not like I liked it or anything.
Thank you Joseph, so much, for knocking it over a year and a half ago and breaking the glass lamp shade.
And now, you have finally given me an excuse to (sniff sniff) toss this hunk-a-junk out by knocking it over again and breaking the light bulb base. (whimper)
Besides, I LOVE glass all over my books. Makes reading so much more entertaining, don't you think?

Onions, Yummy Onions?


Contrary to popular belief, I do cook.

Sometimes.

Occasionally.

Last night I was slicing up an onion for the curry chicken. Joseph was being my helper. But when he saw that pearly white round thing he just couldn't resist.
"Mommy, that's so yummy! I want some!"
I tried to tell him he wouldn't like it, but he can be rather stubborn at times (hmm, I have no idea where he got THAT trait from. I'm dumbfounded, honestly!) so he just kept insisting.
"No, its not yucky, its yummy!!"
Finding a pretty little onion circle, he picked it up and popped it into his mouth.
It took him all of 1.5 seconds to realize just what kind of nastiness he had put into his mouth. His face crumbled from its euphoric state into complete disgust. Quickly spitting it out he declared, "That's yucky!"
Why don't they just listen to me? Haven't they figured it out yet that mommy knows all? That she is the supreme example of intellect and wisdom here on earth?


I am forgoing copyright on this post for use as an analogy in your next Sunday School lesson.

No need to thank me.

Really.

March 30, 2009

The Princess and the Troll-Part One

"Mom, can you tell me a story?"
This has become the common question at bedtime.
Daddy is usually the one to stay in the room and tell a story since by the end of the day I am often twitching in one eye.
But last night when Savannah asked me she also added, "I want you to tell it. Umm, a story about of princess." Of course.
She sat up in bed, eyes as big as saucers and they never left my face through the whole story. Joseph also laid perfectly still so he didn't miss a thing.
It made me feel like SuperMom. After all, bedtime stories don't have to make any logical sense. So I could be as smart, or not smart, as I wanted!

The Princess and the Troll - Part One

Once upon a time there lived a princess who had long gold hair and purple eyes. She was very beautiful.
One day while she was out walking, the evil troll saw her and kidnapped her! No one seemed to be able to find them or figure out where they went! It was as if they had just vanished into thin air.
One day a prince came riding by and heard the tale of the missing princess. He saw a picture of her and thought she was very beautiful. And when he heard about how nice and kind she was (See how sneaky I am? I used this opportunity as a teaching moment, hehe) because no one likes a mean princess, (Savannah puckered her eyebrows and shook her head in agreement) he decided he would go and find her!
He went to the spot where the princess and the troll had disappeared. He searched and searched and he found... (be sure to pause) nothing! Just when he was about to give up, he spotted some footprints hidden under the leaves. Quickly, the prince jumped up and started following them.
He followed them across the river, over the big hills, and down through the valley. He followed the footprints right up until they led into the forest.
But he had heard tales about this forest. He heard the the trees were magic and could talk!
Since he was a polite prince he knocked on one of the big trees.
Nothing happened.
He knocked again. Slowly, the tree started to move. Suddenly, the prince found himself looking up at two very big eyes!
"Uh, excuse me," the prince said. He was a bit nervous about talking to a giant tree. " I was just wondering if it would be alright with you if I came into your forest."
The big tree stared at him for a long time. "Enter." Replied the tree at last. (Oh, be sure to speak in a deep, low voice for the tree. You have to do voices!) "But on one condition. You are not allowed to climb any of us. For if you do, we will eat you."
Well, the prince didn't think that would be a problem! He didn't want to get eaten after all. So he cautiously entered the forest. He continued to follow the footprints for what seemed like days! When suddenly, they stopped. (Be sure to give a long pause for the full effect)
The footprints had stopped right in front of the most enormous tree! He looked all the way around the tree and didn't see anything. He was tempted to climb the tree to see if he could figure out what had happened but he remembered his promise not to climb ANY of the trees.
"Mom?" Savannah spoke for the first time since the story started. "Is there a secret door in the tree?" After informing her that she was so smart, and being rewarded with a huge grin, I continued.
The prince was feeling quite tired after his long search so he leaned back against the tree to rest. Suddenly, a secret door opened up right next to him!
Slowly, and very carefully, he entered. There was a staircase which he followed. It went down and around, down and around. (Use your finger to demonstrate a circular staircase)
Finally he gets to the bottom... the troll's secret lair.
Slowly he crept into the room. There was no one there! He started looking around for a clue to where the princess might be. Then he heard a small sound. It sounded like someone was crying.
"It was the princess!" shouted a very excited Savannah.
That's right, it WAS the princess! He followed the sound to a locked door. Of course he wanted to make sure it was her so he tapped lightly on the door.
The crying stopped.
He tapped again. He could hear someone moving to the door.
"Hello? Princess Violet?" whispered the prince. (At this point I figured I had better give the princess a name. And since she has purple eyes I called her Violet, cause I'm clever like that.)
"Yes." Came a hushed reply, "Yes, its me!"
"Hold on princess, let me find the key." the prince whispered back. After all, he was a rather smart prince and he knew if he just kicked the door down it would probably bring the troll back from wherever he was. So he looked and looked, but he couldn't find the key anywhere!
"The troll has the key!" Humph! Savannah keeps figuring out my story!
As he was searching the other end of the room he heard a faint snoring noise. (Come on ladies, make a snoring sound)
He followed the sound.
Then he saw him. That big, ugly troll was fast asleep. And there, attached to his belt by a small rope, hung the key.
This next part should all be spoken in a small whisper.
The prince crept forward and slowly pulled out his sword. (Demonstrate this while make a small 'shink' sound)
He put the tip of the sword to the rope and slowly started to cut it. (Again, demonstrate and make little ripping noises)
At last the rope was cut! But the key slipped off and fell to the floor with a loud 'TINKATHUNK'!

To be continued in a couple of days because I just KNOW you're all dying to know how it ends....

March 28, 2009

Big Brothers

"Hey baby Wayna"

"I dave her a tith on de nothe!"

"Haha! You're tho toot!"


"Baby Wayna-Face!"

"Dat bi tuck"

"Dat duh tuck!"


And that's what big brothers are for.

March 26, 2009

Or Is It?

Have you ever noticed how some people blog about the strangest things? Totally random, unimportant, and inconsequential things?
Isn't it a relief to know that when you come visit my blog, all the posts are well thought out, logical, vitally important, and will in some way inevitably change your life?

For example, here I am, minding my own business, pouring some Chocolate Chex onto the table for Jacob (okay, I KNOW what you're thinking. As much as I love chocolate, I really do get them for my kids because they love them) when suddenly something landed on the table with a rather loud thud.


Now that is one big chunk of chocolate! Or is it........

March 24, 2009

Any Advice From You Wise Readers?

Today was Alayna's two-month checkup.

She is a healthy 12 pounds

And perfect in every way.

Not that I expected anything less of course.


Upon leaving the Pediatricians office, I opened the door while fumbling with the bulky car seat and diaper bag, and, of course, the boys ran out. Yelling at them to "watch out for cars" and "wait for me", I turned back to save Savannah from being squished by the extremely heavy door. Then, turning back around I see Joseph, head bent down against the very cold, very strong wind, just waltzing his was into the parking lot and walking right into the path of on oncoming Suburban.

I think my heart stopped.

I yelled his name just as he saw it and stopped (I don't think he could have missed it. After all he was staring right at the bumper), just as the lady driving the Suburban saw him and stopped. Good thing he was wearing a flaming orange jacket.
Apparently preaching death and destruction, pain, agony, and danger about the road has done no good whatsoever.
A lady told me the other day that she dressed up a banana and put it in the middle of the road and sat there with her kids until a car came by and squished it. That was how she taught her kids how dangerous the road can be. I'm thinking I'm going to give it a try.

What are some of the methods you guys use or have used? Because apparently, my methods aren't working. And at the rate my kids are going, I'm going to die of heart failure.

March 23, 2009

Indoor Tsunami

Every good mess story deserves a good picture to go with it. Since at the time, I didn't think to take a picture, this will just have to do. But I think you get the idea.


It all started with the missionaries coming over for dinner. I only found out they were coming a couple hours before church started, and they were coming over right after church. So, I did the cooking, while Luke handled most of the cleaning.
Dinner went well and the house was quite presentable. Then Luke went to take the missionaries home and then off to do some ward missionary visits.
I was alone, with them.
It wasn't until a failed diaper, which had become overwhelmed by its contents required one of the boys to use the bathtub. When I pulled aside the shower curtain I was greeted by a large pile of towels that Luke, in his efforts to make the bathroom presentable, had hid in there. There were six towels total.
Not thinking much of it, I scooped them out and plopped them on the floor and continued on with the dirty job of cleaning up the nastiness.
After he was clean enough, his brother wanted to join him. Filling the tub with clean water and plenty of bubbles, I left them to go hold a crying Alayna and read to Savannah.
The boys sounded like they were getting along just fine so I let them be. The occasional plopping sound, like a towel hitting the water met my ears. But there was a washcloth in the tub so I didn't think much of it.
That was my mistake.
At one point, I glanced up and looked toward the bathroom. It was then I noticed the floor was reflecting! Then, without warning, the tsunami hit!
First, the was the "plop" followed by a large wave of water that made the leap between linoleum and carpet.
Jumping off the couch I ran to the bathroom. I will say that it was probably a good thing I was still in my knee length skirt that I had worn to church as I was quickly wet past my ankles. And there, sitting next to the tub on the floor, were six soaking towels.
Yes, that plopping sound came not from a cute little white washcloth with blue stars, but from the boys pulling these, rather large towels into the tub, and letting them slide back out again.
As we have done so in the past, we will skip over my reaction and pretend to listen to elevator music while frolicking through a world made of chocolate................................................................. ......................................................................................................
Ahh, much better. Some people get rainbows after a flood. Me, I get more laundry.

Downside to this tale:
When the toilet falls through the floor due to water damage I just KNOW they are going to blame it on us.

Upside to this tale:
My bathroom floor is now really, really clean.

March 21, 2009

Ghetto Mama

I think my husband sometimes wonders what he got himself into when he married me. Not that I blame him. I don't even know what I'll do next! Its very disconcerting at times.

But I was desperate! No, I was just sick of it, pure and simple.

I was tired of this:

And sick of this:
I just couldn't take the mess anymore!! Its tricky trying to fit the belongings of three children into one closet. Kids outgrow things, so they need more things and you can't get rid of the old things because the next kid is growing into things!

But the toys, oh the toys are the worst. First, the kids never play with their toys because when its all put away everything is stacked up and pushed back and they can't see what there is to play with. So when they do go to find something, everything gets dumped out in the search.

I had had it.

I decided it was time to take drastic measures... I wanted to add a shelf.

But here's the predicament; I didn't want to spend any money on it! Surely there must be enough something around this apartment to put together a make-shift shelf!

So, me and Pooh Bear sat down in out thoughtful spots together to think. He with his honey, and me with my chocolate. Think think, think think.


Then, it came to me. An idea so ghetto that it just might work!

The crib!!

Pulling out the tape measure, I went to work. I couldn't believe it, it would actually fit!

Let me explain.

The first crib we ever got was one my mother-in-law found for us. Someone was throwing it away because it was broken. Its white, its metal, its ugly. But hey, I didn't care, a free crib! So at 10 months old, Savannah graduated from her pack n' play to her first crib.

It did its job well. But when we had three kids and Joseph was able to pull some of the metal bars out the slots, I thought that perhaps we should get a new one.

I soon found another, slightly less broken crib and bought it off someone for like, $50. A least it was wood and a bit more sturdy.

When Joseph graduated to a bed we took that old metal crib apart and stashed it away.

So, when I had the idea to use the crib pieces, I felt like I genius! Granted, a ghetto genius, but a genius nontheless.

I pulled out the side pieces of the crib and set them against the walls. Then I pulled out the bottom piece to act as the actual shelf. It was just a bit too wide so I had to take the closet door off.

I know, my husband already pointed out that I should have just pulled out the pins but I couldn't get them to budge! So, I just took out the screws.

Next, I tied each corner of the bottom slat to the side pieces using some old denim strips that I had cut from Luke's jeans.

Before you start thinking that Luke is wondering around the apartment wondering wear his jeans went, I will point out they were from his old holey jeans that I'm cutting squares out of to make a jean quilt... someday... assuming someone will show me how... and let me borrow a sewing machine... anyway.....
Even the kids tried to help. Notice the piece of rope?

Now I just needed to fill in the spaces between the bars.

Yup, you guessed it! Okay, so you probably didn't but I used some diaper boxes and laid them on top of the bars! It looked awful, but it was effective.

Then I put a sheet on top of the boxes in order to maintain some sense of non-ghetto decency. Now, all I had left was to put the toys away.

Tada!


The one, the only, homemade ghetto closet shelf!

I was actually able to fit some extra toys in there and made just a tiny bit more space in their bedroom! Yea!

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure I should be proud of myself or just down-right ashamed. Either way, at least it works!

You may now officially call me "Ghetto Mama"!

March 19, 2009

Sleep... Or Maybe Not

It's happened once, its happened twice. In fact, its happened several times and I'm sure it will happen again.
Can I just say there's nothing quite like an elbow in the face to make you feel loved... er... something. At the very least it wakes you up.
I know, so rude.
Anyway, my super heavy sleeper husband unknowingly puts my whole facial structure at risk. While sleeping on his back, he tends to put his hands under his head and sleep as if he were basking in the sunshine on a beach somewhere. So I have caught my fair share of elbows.
But here's what worries me, I think its starting to spread!


Do you think its genetic?


Or maybe just an epidemic!


Either way, I'm sure one of these elbows has my name written all over it.


I'm a tummy sleeper myself. But I tend to sleep with my left leg hitched up and Luke finds it necessary to roll onto it and it has been squished, once or twice... or many, many times.
I know, totally rude. Doesn't he know my knee needs its personal space? Gosh, its like he thinks we share the bed or something... oh wait.
Anyone else have sleeping quirks? Or maybe our family is just special.
Ya, that must be it.

March 17, 2009

The Windy City

It Came

video

We Went

video

It Conquered


Idaho wind is not to be underestimated.

Brutal Honesty

Dear Blog,

How should I feel about this?

My three year old son approaches me while I am sitting on the edge of the bed getting dressed. While he is chatting away, half of which I can't understand because of his lisp, he starts pinching my upper leg.

Suddenly he starts laughing hysterically and says, "Mommy, you fithy!" (aka squishy)

How should I feel about this because I'm not completely sure.

Signed,
Super Soft

March 16, 2009

Am I That Niave?

There is a girl in my ward who is on complete bed rest. Today, I watched her two boys for the WHOLE day, 9am - 5:30pm. Six kids under the age of four.
You know, it really wasn't too bad. They all just played together. But my house, well now that is... uh, what I mean to say is... hmmm, well, to put it delicately its... Okay, its thrashed, plain and simple. Totally and completely trashed. And I was actually naive enough to think before that it couldn't get any worse. HAHAHA! Come, laugh with me... HAHAHA! Oh, can't I just go back to the innocence of before?

Still, let's all take a brief look on the positive side:

-Only the windows were colored on, not the walls.

-All that macaroni and cheese and juice that was spilled? Limited to the kitchen area.

-Only four out of the five beds in our apartment were taken apart.

-All the kids toys have been dumped out and spread throughout the whole house, but at least all the kids played well together!

See? There is light in the darkness after all! AND, I even managed to get several hours of photoshop magic done for Luke on a project he needed completed for tomorrow. Which is probably why a lot of the above happened.

Granted I didn't get around to making dinner but hey, what do you expect? I'm not Wonder Woman! I could never wear that ridiculous outfit.

March 15, 2009

I Just Couldn't Think of a Good Title.

I'm having a serious moment. Its true. Despite what you think, I can have those. After all, this is MY blog... so there. And you know what the worst part about it is? I feel like writing about it. But don't worry, I'll spare you the gorey details.


Most often, in the life of a mother, the days tend to roll together and mesh into one. While each day is uniquely and vastly different, they are just as equally all the same. The kids keep you busy enough that you don't seem to notice the days that slip by, one after the other until, for that brief moment you shift down from super sonic mode just long enough to notice that day and night aren't actually the same thing, you say something like, "Oh my goodness! Is it mid-March already!?"


Its funny how things tend to build up and yet you don't notice it until you break down. And its that silly feather that settles on top of your emotional pile that brings the whole thing down on top of you.
Yes, I know it comes as a great shock to many but, its true. I am prone to the emotional weaknesses of a female from time to time. Just don't tell anyone, especially my husband, I want to surprise him.

I spent the weekend questioning my self-worth, wondering about the choices and decisions I have made, and a little unsure about my life's current path. I was feeling frustrated with myself for all the things I've never done and all the attributes I haven't yet accumulated.


As I sat in sacrament meeting today, Luke on one end of the pew and me on the other with the three oldest kids in between us for containment of sure destruction, I happen to look over at my kids.
Three little heads were bent down over three coloring books, all intent on what they were doing, each appeared perfectly content. (Granted that only lasted about 30 seconds)
The sight did two things to me: fill my heart with pride (the good kind) and make me feel like a little teenager as the enormity of the trust I've been given to raise these children hit me hard. I felt like I was just a kid. What in the world are babies doing raising babies?
I was still feeling a bit overwhelmed and completely unworthy after we come home when I saw this. Savannah singing to and playing with her baby sister and making her smile.
Funny how something so simple can change your perspective.

Its going to be alright. Somehow, it will all be okay... especially if chocolate is involved.

March 13, 2009

She's Four-Teen

I'll never forget the picture. Savannah's little 3 ft. 8 in. frame standing defiantly just inches away from her father's 6 ft. 1 in. frame, arms folded across her chest with her world renowned grouchy face on as she looked up at him and declared, "I never did such a fing!"

Awkward

I stopped by the store last night to pick up something. I won't tell you exactly what it was other than that it started with  "choco" and ends with a "late".  (What? If I'm going to stay sick I might as well at least enjoy my misery!)

Anyway, as I walked into the store, I was glancing over the big sales they had stationed so strategically there in the front in hopes of tricking unsuspecting buyers into thinking they are getting a good deal, when suddenly, I hear a deep voice say, "nice".
Surprised, I turn to find a middle-aged black man, with a case of beer, staring right at me.

Umm, awkward!

Quickly using my better judgement, I decided NOT to stare back in hopes of finding one of those cordless ear phones which make people look like they are talking to themselves.
Who knows? Maybe his beer just didn't cost him as much as he had expected.

Lesson learned: Don't go to a Smith's grocery store by yourself at night. 
Of course, I probably should have learned that lesson that last time I was there at night and had a guy follow me out to my car.....

March 12, 2009

Moderation

We are taught to have moderation in all things, right? How does that work exactly, for a mom?

(The following is a condensed version of my day... oh you have no idea just how very very condensed it is)

Morning. While in the shower, the kids wake up. Cutting my shower short and hoping I washed out all the conditioner, I start getting ready. Noticing I'm almost out of clean clothes, I stop getting ready and start some laundry. I go back to finish getting ready.
The kids all want a drink. I stop working on myself and go in search of sippy cups since they always seem to be missing. Now they want breakfast. While working on breakfast, I notice I need to clean the kitchen, I start cleaning. Someone needs help in the bathroom. I stop cleaning and go help. Now they want to watch a movie. Perfect. I start on a drawing.
The baby starts crying. I stop drawing and take care of her. The kids want to play with the dominos. After getting the dominos out, I notice my laundry is done, I start folding laundry. My sister calls, asking about her wedding invitations. I stop doing laundry, go to the computer and go over some things with her. She hangs up. While at my computer, I notice I have several unanswered emails, some are weeks old and I feel guilty that I haven't responded yet. I start on an email, the baby starts crying, I pick her up and go back to my computer.
One of the kids needs to go potty. I put the baby down and she immediately starts crying again, and I go into the bathroom. After helping them, I remember that I was doing laundry earlier but the baby is still crying. I get her fed then, taking her bottle into the kitchen, (stepping over pretzel crumbs and dominos along the way) I realize I need to do dishes. I start on dishes when the baby spits up. I stop doing dishes, change her clothes, which reminds me that I didn't finish the laundry. I start doing it again, but the kids want to color. I find them their crayons and coloring books. I take the opportunity to draw some more.
A sound pulls my attention away and I hurry to catch him before he colors the wall any more. I start scrubbing the wall. The kids start going on and on about how they are hungry. I stop scrubbing, I go to get them a snack. I notice its late and I haven't started dinner yet. I start dinner. While doing dinner, one of the boys pulls all the books off the bookshelf. I tell him to put them back but he ignores me and continues to smash the book covers. So, I leave dinner, and put the books back. Turning around, my attention is again drawn to the pretzel crumbs and dominos all over the floor. With a lot of effort and coercing, I manage to have the other kids help me pick up the dominos.
Dinner boils over. I stop cleaning and go back to making dinner. The kids start fighting and wake up the baby. I break up the fight, settle the baby back down, then pull out the vacuum to get those dang pretzel crumbs. I accidentally snag the corner of a sock and it throws the belt off the vacuum. I go back to get a screwdriver and notice the drawing that I desperately need to finish. Then I catch one of the kids on my computer. As I pull him off I notice he has deleted my partially written email. Forgetting what I went back there for, I go back into the living room and seeing the vacuum, I remember that I had gone in search of a screwdriver, but I need to finish dinner.
Wait, I need to break up another fight while begging the kids to leave the toys in their bedroom. The baby starts crying again. She needs a diaper change. After changing her diaper, my attention is again drawn to the laundry that I haven't yet completed... etc. etc. and so forth.

So by the time my hubby comes home, the house is only half clean, the laundry half done, dinner half cooked, kids half dressed, art project half completed, emails half answered, dishes half washed and me half frazzled.

Is that what they mean by, moderation in all things?

March 9, 2009

Sharing the Germs

There should be a law irrevocably decreed in heaven that moms cannot get sick. Because quite frankly, it is a down right, dirty rotten trick when they do.

I finally caught what my boys seem to have. Only it seems like I am more affected by it then they are. Why is that? Maybe kids are just more resilient. Or maybe, well, you know what they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. I feel like my throat is getting ripped out of my neck every time I cough and my head feels like its going to explode every time I move. 

It hit me like a ton of bricks this morning. I don't have time to be sick!! I don't even have time to sleep so, what makes anyone think I have time to be sick?

After a rough coughing spasm, Savannah eyed me warily and asked, "Mom, are you sick?" 
Of course I told her I was. She then screwed her face up one one side and cocked her head. "But moms can't get sick." she declared.

Oh if only it were true! When dads get sick, they get to stay home from work and spend the day in bed. How come I can't take the day off from work and stay in bed? I think that should be in the mommy contract, that we get some sick days off! Let's all file a petition, or go on strike! Maybe even start a union! 

Fine, I guess you're right. 

But its still a dirty rotten trick I tell ya! Just down right mean.

March 7, 2009

Random

While driving down the freeway yesterday, Savannah, quite out of the blue rather sadly says, "Mamma, (sigh) I wish I had a husband."

Uh.........

March 5, 2009

Joseph Turns Three

Today was a big day. A very important day for any young boy. Their third birthday. Why is this such a monumental occasion, you ask? Because they lived through the terrible twos (which actually starts at age one and last through age four but don't tell other people that, its a closely guarded secret) And when I say lived through, I mean their parents didn't kill them. So yes, what a very important day this is.

Joseph helped me with his birthday cake. Or rather, he helped me taste test it. He is truly a man after my own heart. 



Now, before you say anything about the cake, I have just two things to say, judge not, and its the thought that counts. 
Still, it did turn out better than last years cake... which we won't talk about.



We took the kids out to eat at Wendy's because we are fancy and high class like that. 
And maybe I wanted to scarf down a Frosty. But you can't prove that I had one, so there.



I forget just how exiting lighting the candles are for the kids, which Jacob was kind enough to help blow out. 


And the grand finale. Joseph opens his birthday present...

...and Jacob took full advantage of the extra pieces.

Let's just say, I got tired of watching Joseph run around all day with the vacuum hose in his pants. He needed something that would fit better.


Even Alayna had fun!


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