Girl Trouble

I know I say I want a girl. I know I have purchased girl outfits for the daughters of friends or random nieces. I know I say that I think it's cute that they care how they look and actually choose clothes they like based on some instinctive desire to be pretty. I even claim to be intrigued by the idea of girl toys, cute little purses, backpacks filled with miniature animals who each came with their own tiny accessories or dollies with blankets and bottles. I know I almost have myself convinced form time to time but I must confess despite the occasional longing for pinkness in my life the girl toy aisle is a scary place for me.

The other day I was at Wallmart picking up a few things when I remembered that I have two little nieces with b-days that I've either just missed or will soon. So I think, "this is your chance to be really organized get those gifts and get them mailed". So motivated by the thought of actually being organized for once and by the fact that I had no boys to annoy or distract me I put my head down, muscled past the bikes and transformers, the end caps filled with Bionicles and super heroes and the Matchbox cars. I marched past the unisex two and under rows until, there it was, pink, girl toy, paradise I could count the times I have actually been on this aisle using relatively few body parts. I pause, take a deep breath and turn my cart resolutely down the glittery, pink, princessy row.

I make it two feet by only using peripheral vision, these are little girls, four and two, I think I can safely pass the... feather boas, beads and make-up, for the.. umm, little lady of the night? without a direct glance. It occurs to me that I not only have to think about what the girls might want but what their mom and grandmas might think. Boys are easy, "oh, look a car and it doesn't have to be assembled, great gift." I pause in front of a row of Bratz? My head turns quizzically to the side, is it just me or are these baby aliens with lots of hair, make-up and a trendy teen wardrobe? OK, Bratz are out. Across the way are Barbie's, uhh who knew there were so many princess Barbies, I think I gave these little girls princess Barbie's last year and danged if I know which ones so...moving on. Ahh little purses shaped like...a bug? bunny? forget it, I at least want to know what species of purse I'm giving. I push my cart a little further down the row, oh look baby dolls I walk past a box on the floor suddenly at ankle level I hear Maa, Maa I jump out of the way, while bending to see if I hurt the baby, back into the stuffed animals and start a bottle drinking duck on a quacking frenzy. Somewhere in the mound of stuffed animals a kitten is meowing piteously and I'm at the end of the row facing some miniature cabbage patch babies, I grab two with names that I can kinda pronounce and run.

My escape from pink purgatory leaves me in front of the Transformers, panting and glancing furtively over my shoulder. I reach out a shaking hand and grab a transformer, cars that turn into robots, now that I can handle, I throw it in the cart for my nephew because I know what boys like and I know I probably missed his birthday a couple months ago and I know I said I want a girl but....

Sick

Our baby is sick, I know I often bemoan the size, energy and wildchild nature of my youngest, turns out all it takes is a little germ to turn him in to a kitten who
wants cuddles and loves and an occasional Slurpee.

Good things:
I get my cuddles and loves, fix.
He says funny things:
Mom: Adam do you want a drink?
Adam: Yes, dhen I gonna frow up.
Mom: Adam do you like Dora or Diego the best?
Adam: Fpiderman.
Mom: Adam, what made you sick?
Adam: A monster.
Mom: Adam, what would make you feel better?
Adam: Chocolate...and the doctor.

Bad things:
I get baby hungry, it's so fun to hold a baby.
$151.00 for a 5 minute doctor visit which was a waste of time because as suspected it's a virus.

Little Minds

I'm always lecturing teaching important little lessons to my boys so it's inevitable only fair that they will, from time to time, enlighten me with choice bits of knowledge from their amazing little minds. Here are a few cute ones.

Isaac: Mom, I think the boiled eggs are done because almost all the water has disintegrated. (My first grader going on bio-chemistry doctorate, minus a definition or two. But seriously, what first grader knows the principles of evaporation and disintegration well enough to confuse the two, let alone the words?)

Joseph: Mom, there's such a thing as boy mermaids...they're called sharks.(The Disney version of a misunderstood but delightful teenage mermaid/girl with cute little fishy companions and a smitten prince isn't often watched at our house, go figure. So, based on the traditional view of mermaids as man luring temptresses, a shark seems a fitting description of their male counterpart. Let's hope Joseph is thinking of Bruce and his buddies from Disney's Nemo.)

Joseph:(holding a gun left at our house by his little cousin Kenneth) Mom, whatever toys Kenneth leaves at our house are mine.

Mom: What if you leave your toys at Kenneth's house? (lame attempt at teaching empathy 1)

Joseph: If I leave my toys at Kenneth's house, they are Kenneth's. But I never leave my toys at Kenneth's house.

Mom: What if you forget a toy there on accident? (lame attempt at empathy 2)

Joseph: I won't but if Kenneth leaves his toys here wah, wah, wah. (sung in a decrescendo death knoll)


Adams' biggest three year old fear (birds is a recent one)is sirens. Whenever he hears a siren no matter how faintly he runs for the house screaming, "The cops are gonna get me!" it makes us all laugh, with just a 'titch' of concern for his future, too think of the cops hauling Adam to toddler jail. So I asked him, "Adam what would the cops do if they got you?"

Adam: They'd throw me in dail. (bottom lip quivers)

Mom: Who's Dale?

Adam: The cops' dail (he doesn't get my witty attempt at levity)

Mom: What happens in jail?

Adam: They flush the toilet and put me in it.

Mom: Umm, wouldn't that be a violation of your Miranda rights?


Benjamin and I were trying to figure out Ancient Egyptian fractions, Ben thought it was crap, he just couldn't believe that Ancient Egyptians had fractions (fractions in general are not so much a math concept as a torture concept to Ben).

Benjamin: Ancient Egyptians did not know fractions, This is so stupid.

Mom: How do you think they built pyramids?

Benjamin: They didn't build the pyramids, we don't know who built the pyramids, maybe aliens.

Mom: (muttered) Stupid Discovery channel. Come on hon, lets just get it done, OK, this says, Ancient Egyptians used only fractions...

Benjamin: THEYDIDN'THAVEFRACTIONS! (as a sneeze)


The wisdom of little minds. It changes your views of the world as it tickles the funny bone.

Hee,Hee, Hee, They Said Pooh!

I guess living with eight men of various heights may have dulled my refined female instincts some because I find boy humor really funny. I no longer sit primly with my lips pursed when I here naughty little words like fart or pooh, no I laugh heartily, slap my thigh, snort a little milk out my nose and shout,"pooh, you said pooh!". I know it's not really girlie to fall on the floor with my hands around my throat like I'm being gassed to death, groaning, "that was bad, I owe you for that one dude" when someone farts. Guess the old adage 'if you can't lick em, join em,' applies, "I said lick em" ha ha ha.

I bring up this indelicate side of my nature because my little ones have come up with some pretty funny 'pooh jokes' lately.

Adam comes in the house a couple day ago, takes my hand and says in an outraged voice, "Mom, look at your tree," he walks me out the front door, points at the Aspen tree covered with buds and says, "Pooh, birds got pooh all over your tree."Today we got our lawn aerated, two men pushed these big machines all over the grass turning up circular, tube like sod chunks. Joseph and Adam watched for a while then came in the house to tell on them. "Mom," Joseph says, "Those guys are putting pooh all over our grass!"
"Joseph, that's not pooh its chunks of dirt and grass," I explain laughing.
"So it's OK to walk on it if we have shoes on?" He asks dubiously, obviously not convinced that it's not icky nasty turds.
Meanwhile I'm about on the floor laughing thinking of a swarm? herd? oh yeah, pack of dogs madly umm...defecating (that's a big word for poohing) all over our yard, Hee, hee I said poohing.

Ahh, Easter!

The main reason for this post is to move the one about Jacob down where he won't see it and delete it.

We had a fun Easter weekend, Saturday we went up to West Valley for the traditional family easter egg hunt with Grandma Beck. Saturday night we set out new Sunday clothes and treats for everyone, Richard filled and hid easter eggs for the three littlest, he's usually content to let me set easter out, the help was fun.

Sunday Joshua spoke in church and I sang in the choir and did Sharing time. After church we all came home to set out dinner. Family and friends came and went all night and we feasted on ham, rolls and salads turns out all the men were disappointed in my simplifying things by not making potatoes. Apparently salads and rolls are 'women' food even if ham is involved, who knew?

Here are a few pictures.

All Grown Up

Jacob must never, never know I posted this. He swore he'd delete my whole, 'Evil Blog!' as he calls it. So Shhh! Be vewry, vewry quiet, we'er hunting sevenTEEN yeawr olwds.

Jacob turned seven-gasp-teen on March 1st. He is an incredible oldest son, rebellious enough to keep life interesting; but, not so much that were pulling our hair out. He tried out for and made Chamber Choir for next year, and is planning to try out for the Ballroom Dance Team. For his Birthday his friend Lyssa gave him a 'Cool' (not cute) hoodie and a birthday kiss.


This weekend he is in St. George Going to the Preference dance with Kylee Taylor a childhood sweetheart. This is a picture of him dressed up to go the dance, complete with a hot new hair cut, thanks Aunt Jenny and Josh.
Today when I went into the High school to sign him out all the secretaries in the office told me what a great guy he is, we couldn't agree more, but mums the word, what would the world do without my, 'Evil Blog'.

Happy Early Easter

This is it, the Easter moon through my Aspen tree.



Do you realize how early Easter is this year? As you may know, Easter is always the 1st Sunday after the 1st full moon after the Spring
Equinox (which is March 20).

This dating of Easter is based on the lunar calendar that Hebrew people used to identify Passover, which is why it moves around on our Roman calendar.

Found out a couple of things you might be interested in! Based on the
above, Easter can actually be one day earlier (March 22) than it is this
year but that is pretty rare.

Here's the interesting info. This year is the earliest Easter any of us
will ever see the rest of our lives! And only the most elderly of our
population have ever before seen it this early (95 years old or above!).
And none of us have ever, or will ever, see it a day earlier! Here are
the facts:

1) The next time Easter will be this early (March 23) will be the year
2228 (220 years from now). The last time it was this early was 1913
(so if you're 95 or older, you are the only ones that were around for
that!).

2) The next time it will be a day earlier, March 22, will be in the
year 2285 (277 years from now). The last time it was on March 22 was 1818. So, no one alive today has or will ever see it any earlier than this year!

Interesting....huh!

This is the second email I have received regarding Easter this year so I thought I would post it. It seems so weird to have Easter less than a week past St. Patrick's Day. Hope everyone has fun hunting for eggs and eating Reese's Bunnies. I know I will!

Things that go Tweet in the Yard

Lets face it, three year olds are scaredy cats. All my boys have gone through it, they turn three and become more aware of the world it's wonders and also it's dangers and suddenly everything has to be categorized as friend or foe. With Benjamin it was sounds, we spent a night at a cabin when he was three. We were sleeping in a warm upstairs room and had opened the window, there was a babbling brook outside that I found rather pleasant, to Benjamin it was a screaming stream bent on his destruction. Every 20 minutes all night long he would grab me in panic and ask,"Whats that sound!" For Isaac it was the smoke alarm in the hall, it scared him so bad that he wouldn't even walk down the hall alone for a few weeks. They've all had their little three year old fears some amusing some understandable but Adam takes the cake.

Yesterday he went out to play in the sandbox a minute later he came running into the house, slammed the door, and threw himself into my arms screaming, "they're gonna get me!"

"Adam, what's going to get you" I asked, while trying to pry his arms off their strangle hold around my neck. This boy weighs four lbs. more then his five year old brother his favorite pass time is extreme wrestling with his dad, if his feet keep growing at their current rate in a couple of years well be able to tromp him barefoot through the Oregon woods and incite a Sasquatch fad. This kid is the king of tough I couldn't imagine what terrifying thing was in the yard to scare him.

"The bird's Mom, they're gonna get me!" The strangle hold tightens.

"What bird's?" I ask, Joseph, who has followed him in and is observing the whole thing with his usual stoic reaction, answers for him.

"Mom, it was just a bird, it hopped down on the fence."

"Was it a big black bird" I ask? Crows scare me a little, I could understand a crow.

"No just a little bird." Joseph says with a shrug, loses interest and goes back outside.

"Mom why is it getting me?" Adam asked.

"I think it was just hopping down to see what you were doing, I bet if you waved hello to it it would fly away." I gave him my best comforting mom hug and sent him back out.

A minute later he was back, freaking out about birds everywhere, and they were going eat him, no amount of logic could convince him that birds are our friends. He spent the rest of the day standing by windows, checking for birds too afraid to go outside. I spent the rest of the day laughing at him, feeling a little sad that this is my last scaredy cat three year old, and dreading the four year old 'nothing can hurt me' phase.

The Nose Knows

Adam: Mom I smell gum. I want gum! (as he sniffs my purse which has gum in it that I don't want him to have because he eats it like candy if he knows we have any.)

Mom: Adam I don't have any gum, we're all out. (It's a lie for his own good, right?)

Adam: Mom, come on. (He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom where I used to keep a stash of gum)

Adam: Open the cupboard Mom.

Mom: There is none up there it's all gone. (Why am I fighting it, we all know I'm gonna cave in)

Adam: Lift me up I want to see. (He's beginning to catch on that when gum is involved I am a dirty liar)

Mom: See, no gum. (Holy cow, he's heavy!)

Adam: Fine, I'm not having any then! (As he falls to the floor sobbing, the little drama queen.)

Mom: Sorry honey. (I walk out as waves of guilt wash over me, yes, the drama thing works.)

Adam: No one loooves me!!! (Oh, he's laying it on thick!)

Mom: Look Adam, Mommy found ONE piece in her purse. (yeah, yeah, I'm a pushover.)

Note to self: Find a new hiding place for gum, store gum in a ZipLock.

Politics

Tis' the season I guess, I try really hard not to think to much about politics. When preparing to vote I usually just go with my gut reaction to a name or call my Mom to see who she recommends, pretty lame considering I'm in my forties. Lately I just can't escape thoughts of a political nature.

Now don't get me wrong I truly appreciate this great country I live in, our free elections and all that. I have even been to a caucus meeting which I bet most of you can't claim, OK so I'm still not really sure what I was doing there or why we even have caucus meetings. I do remember that it was at the middle school (we sat in desks) and that while I was there all the change was stolen out of the ash tray in my car, two good reasons never to go back. At this point my passionately political mother is squirming in her chair...don't worry Mom if the Mayan calendar is wrong and life as we know it continues past 2012 I promise to carry on your legacy, hell, I'll probably run for city council at least PTA president. Here's the thing though, Mitt Romney, John McCain Mike Huckabee, Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, based on the name thing no one gets my vote, just can't picture myself saying President Huckabee with out a snide giggle, and is there a difference between any of these candidates really?

The way I see it, it's like going down to the local Hostess Thrift store, gazing around at all the 'wholesome' choices and then spending a year trying to decide which one is better for you.

Let's see, we have the Apple pie(Romney) real fruit, flaky crust.

Our American icon the Twinkie(McCain) spongy, cakey, indefinite shelf life.

The Glazed Honey Bun (Huckabee) sugary, sweet southern calories.

Ahh, the Cupcake (Obama) chocolate with a decorative white swirl.

And, last but not least, the Suzy Q (Hillary) two layers of cake filled with lots and lots of fluff.

Hmmm, which should I choose? They all call to me, they proclaim their benefits, each promises to make my life better, they all taste so good with a tall glass of ice cold, hormone laced, milk. Problem is I can't help thinking that they're all a bunch of Ding Dongs, crisp waxy chocolate? cake? cookie? filled with sweetened, whipped, shortening.


No thanks!
I'll pass!

In The Name of Science.

Lately visitors, to our very classy home, have been favored with viewing a piece of green, moldy bread, neatly encased in a Ziplock bag in each of my windows. Each bag says Jeremiah on the outside and probably should include the start date, which window and a few other vital pieces of information that sixth graders tend to forget when they conduct science experiments.
The other day when organizing my freezer this is what I found. This was one of Joshua's latest science experiments; another of Joshua's, in the last three months, was three shoe boxes with different colored Christmas lights poked through holes in the top to give light and warmth to the seeds in dirt filled plastic cups. This one was in the corner of the living room throughout the holiday season adding, an oh so lovely accent, to the decoration boxes I couldn't seem to get emptied and back to the storage unit, piles of school papers, the mountains of laundry, the half finished neighbor gifts everywhere.

Not to long ago my entire dining room table was a pinewood derby workshop complete with every tool we own, sand paper and spray paint, nails, stickers, string and a few two by fours that Joshua was cutting down to build a special launcher so that he could experiment with running his car on CO2... Oh and did I mention a saw. On my dining room table folks which is the first sight you see when you come into our home.

I could just chalk all these exasperating messes up to being the number one, on the job joy of raising boys, although I had already given given that dubious honor to the bathroom, but then I got to thinking...what if I blamed all the housekeeping tasks I let slide daily as being science experiments?

Brilliant, these aren't dirty dishes in my sink. This is an important experiment to determine how effective dish detergent and fingernails are on dishes left sitting for longer then 24 hours.This is not lint left on the dryer because someone didn't return my garbage can to the laundry room after three days of asking, pleading, threatening them to dump it in the outside can. This is a study on the absorbency of dryer lint...it's possible that all those lost socks weren't eaten by the dryer, just maybe, lint is powerful enough to actually absorb socks.This suspicious looking spill down the front of my fridge is not there because I don't wash down my fridge daily. No, this is a Nobel prize worthy trial on the possibility that three year olds can adversely effect gravity by making spilled chocolate milk run up a white fridge instead of down to a brown tile floor.And, for my favorite, laundry, this is not stacks and, stacks, of never ending laundry; no, cruel world, this is a highly scientific approach to seismic reinforcement for my, not up to earthquake safe, home. When the 'Big One' hits I will be safe buried under mounds of dirty laundry, which, being stacked to the ceilings, kept them from collapsing. All you efficient, well organized, fold it out of the dryer types out there will be neat little pancakes, buahhaha (evil mad scientist laugh). That' s my scientific theory and I'm sticking to it.

Good To Know

There is some really important information that falls under the category, 'Vital to know' these would be facts such as: Income taxes are due on April 15, or that smoking causes cancer, or, you can't have a gun in your diaper bag, or formula or finger nail clippers if you're going to fly. Other useful tidbits of information fall in the category of 'Good To Know', info in this category might include such items as; wash, rinse, condition, rinse, dry, style and that the word wholesome is meant to be tongue-in-cheek as a description of Hostess treats. It's been awhile since I did a family update; most of this information falls in the category 'Did I need to know that?' I'll do my best to categorize correctly.

Vital To Know:
When Adam gets mad enough to run away he's not headed off to join the circus or even over to Grandmas house, Adam is, "running away to the fridge". The smile is his automatic camera face, if you look closely there is a tantrum tear on his right cheek.
Jacob made Chamber Choir. This is the elite choir in his High School. The conversation went something like this.
Jacob: Chamber Choir tryouts are tonight after school so I'll call you when I need a ride home, (as he's getting out of the car at school one morning).
Mom: Are you ready? Have you prepared a number? Do you want us to come? Are your grades OK? (As he shuts the door and walks away shaking his head at my audacity in thinking that any of these questions might be relevant enough that he hadn't thought of them.)
Fade to after school that day.
Mom: Well how did it go? Did you make it? Were you nervous? What did the Choir Director say? When will...
Jacob: Mom, it went OK I guess. I'll tell you when I know more. (No expression or inflection)
A week and a half later.
Jacob: Did I mention that I made Chamber Choir? (as he waits for the traffic light to change).
Mom: Wow! Cool! That's Awesome Hon! When did you know?
Jacob: I dunno like a week or few days or something, I was gonna tell you guys but I guess I forgot.
Mom: Are you excited about it?
Jacob: Well Duh! (rolls eyes)
I thought this was Vital info, Jacob would probably not rank it so high, such a coooool teenager.
Good To Know:

My herb and veggie cleanse was interrupted by Benjamin's birthday mint brownies. It got me back on track though and I'm eating a little better.

When Adam tells you he wants a crapper, he's not looking for a redneck toilet. He wants a cracker. On the other hand Richard and I have added some fiber shakes to our diet, we affectionately call them poop shakes, when we ask for a crapper we mean any toilet and it would be best to evacuate the immediate area.

Benjamin advanced out of cub scouts with his Arrow of Light. He's also got straight A's

Did I Need to Know That:
Fish now has a name. Joseph decided we should call him Knuckles, why you ask, seeing as how fish have fins not fingers hence no knuckles? Joseph is into Sonic video games and having everything make sense. Knuckles is Sonics video game buddy. He looks like this:
Our Fish, Knuckles(formerly know as Fish) looks like this...makes sense to Joseph.All our other sons have called, when absolutely necessary to refer to them at all, my breasts boobs, or boobies. Adam refers to them as Squisheys...I like your Squisheys Mom, Can I play with your Squisheys Mom. "Mom, this is your mommy squishy and this is your dad squishey", at least he didn't call my belly the baby squishy (yes one of the girls is a little larger then the other, but, that's a topic for an entirely different blog). No forty-something women needs any part of her body called squishey even if it's true.

Yum! Lunch

Yep, time for my yearly cleanse, according to all the freako health nut stuff I read I should do a cleanse every season and eat a diet of nothing but raw fruits, nuts and veggies, supplemented by a little organic fish and chicken, oh, and whatever product they are promoting.

Yeah right!

Now don't get me wrong, I am all for a healthy eating I even plant a garden every year, which I weed by hand so I don't have to use icky chemicals, of course this particular garden spot is the dumping ground for what ever is left at the bottom of my Moms' Swimming pool after we drain the water out each spring so the avoiding chemicals thing may not be going that well; but, I just can't face the thought of never eating anything cooked again so that I can live an extra three or four years. Plus I can't get past my favorite foods being cooked, like that really crusty bread that is so good with cheese and wine, oops, I mean grape juice, now don't freak on me, I've never had wine, I save my acts of rebellion for coffee ice cream, and toe rings. I also struggle with how much work it is to eat really healthy, not to mention the expense.

Alas, the last few months have taken their annual toll and so... my yearly cleanse is a great jump start to semi-healthy eating until about Halloween when the challenge to eat enough food to make it through the hibernation takes over my sensibilities and I stalk, hunt and devour all the refined sugar and bleached, preservative laden flour I can get.

A cleanse consists of lots of juice and water mixed with fiber and many many herbal pills that get all the umm... gucky stuff (pretty sure thats the medical term for it) out of my body leaving it clean inside and out.

Wish me well, veggies run for your lives I'm eatin' healthy.