Summing It Up

I assigned #4 a rewrite of his book report on Where the Red Fern Grows. This is what how he summed up his feelings about the book.

"I liked the book because it was an adventure that any man would think was important and the experience would be extraordinary."

I read it several times, I tried to find it on line, it seems too deep a comment for a 12 year old who complained for several hours about writing the book report. I had forgotten that book reports are splinters under fingernails type torture to a 12 year old.

A flood of Red Fern Grows memories washed over me and I could feel the exquisite joy of laying my cheek, flushed from lunch recess exertions, on the cool surface of my desk top as Mr. Beach or was it Miss Hunt's voice unfolded this profound story of a boys journey to manhood in the Ozark mountains. I remembered sitting on the floor in the gym when Wilson Ralws came to autograph copies of his books and inspire us all to grow up to be writers.

Adorable Hubby was so in love with this story that he wore overalls through high school and earned enough money to buy, with his two best friends, three red bone coon hounds. It was my willingness to help him clean out the kennel that won me his love, so in a way I owe my relationship with Adorable Hubby to Where the Red Fern Grows.

Way to sum it all up #4!

#4 is known around here for his profoundly deep thoughts, his adorable giggle, and his sense of extraordinary adventure .

Uhhhh...

All through the week as I go about my fascinating and exciting life I think of hilarious or touching things to blog. Then I find myself with a rare beautiful moment of computer time and can't think of a blamed one of them to actually post.

Remember in lion king when Zazu says to Scar, "Yes, well as slippery as your mind is." I think my mind is slippery, any great thoughts slip away before they can grace the world with utterance.

So here are some really random and not great thoughts in no particular order.

I just listened to Sting, Fields of Gold for the fifth time. Good song! And, Sting = HOT!

Paula Cole has a new album out. Really like Paula Cole and her new album. I'm sure she's thrilled to know I approve of her.

Wouldn't it be great if we could just act on our feelings with out fear or self-doubt. Well, there might be a poor unsuspecting person or two that would die of shock if I acted on some of my feelings. But still...

Did I mention I work with Doctor's. I was thinking... wouldn't it be great if we could read they're amazingly advanced beyond ours brains. It would save them so much grief trying to communicate with us underlings. Plus we might be able to decipher their writing.

My #3 is taking his broken femur like a real trooper. He calls himself a cripple or handicapped and expects privileges. Double samples at Costco, parking passes, no chores, he's even planning on extra Trick-or-Treat candy. It's getting really old!

Yesterday was the Primary Program (church service presented by the 11 years and under crowd). Ohh the sweetness of children singing and sharing their feelings for their families, Father in heaven and the Savior. I cried the whole time! Way to go Primary Kids! Way to go leaders!

Why are Peanut Butter Bars so freaking delicious ?

I don't believe I'll be wearing that cute little clearance dress, in oranges and browns with just a touch of purple, along with a cute pair of legging's for Halloween. I was so sure I would lose the 10 or 50 little pounds that would make it look adorable. Stupid peanut butter bars!

Of all the things that could really bug me about people the thing that really gets me is (this is so dumb) the way they walk. If someone walks weird or worse, runs oddly, it drives me crazy. And now I need to go video myself walking and running...just in case.

My 5 year old said balls and/or penis in church yesterday, then he ran outside and hid for 15 or so minutes scaring Adorable Hubby pretty badly. Duct tape or soap, soap or duct tap, decisions, decisions. Discipline, parenting would be cake if we didn't have to discipline.

The other day I was at the swimming pool with #3, the water is great broken leg therapy. As we sat just inside the roped off kiddie area a little red head girl swam up, ducked under the rope, emerged dramatically from the water, shook back her hair and said, "Hi, my name is Jane but you should call me Ariel because that's who I'm pretending to be. I just love Ariel, I love everything about her, I think it's because I have red hair and beautiful blue eyes just like her!" She looked around as though surveying her kingdom, turned back to us threw out her arms and declared, "The swimming pool is my real world!" #3 turned to me, straight faced, cocked an eye brow and said, "Now, there's a girl who knows what she wants." A girl who knows what she wants? Rare indeed #3, rare indeed.

OK, I'm done!

Backwards sdrawkcaB

Last week #6, my struggling to read first grader, came home from church with a picture he'd drawn. At the top was a sticker picture of Jesus, next to it he had written,

sezej evol nac I.

My Mom is his primary teacher she called not to long after church ended and told me that #6 was backwards/mirror writing. She wasn't sure if it was the angle he was sitting at while copying off the chalk board or if it indicated something more serious. My Mom was a certified teacher until she up and quit to have eleven children. Years of working with eleven children many of whom had some learning challenges, like backwards writing, has made her quick to notice children who struggle and imbued her with a passionate desire to help.

Currently she tutors at the Missionary Training Center. There 19 year old boys training to serve full time missions for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints fill out papers indicating that they struggle with reading. The boys(I know, I know they aren't boys they think they're men) are evaluated and assigned a tutor to work with them for the three or so weeks of their stay.

When my Mom gets one of these boys assigned to her the first task is to let him know that it's OK that he can't read well. This is difficult. After years of schooling which rewards and labels students as GOOD if they pick up easily on certain skills and has little or no help and plenty of labels for those that don't, these boys are hurt, feel unworthy of love and hopeless.

My Mom loves them, she teaches them that it's not their fault that the teachers didn't have the skills or knowledge to teach them in the way they learn and too give them the foundation and fundamentals so that reading makes sense. She bears testimony that God can teach them in exactly the way they learn and that He always lays a foundation of fundamentals that will help us clearly read His will for us.

No matter how many people tell me that believing in Jesus Christ is crazy or backwards, No matter how backwards my life may be at times.

!em sevol suseJ wonk I dna suseJ evol nac I wonk I

Thanks Mom for your example and your love.

What The... Party Animal

The boys are out of school for fall break yesterday and today. Adorable Hubby is out of town on a business trip. My friend Suz and I had taken this weekend off work so that we could pack up the kids and head down to our favorite vacation destination for some hiking and waterfall swimming. Then, #3 broke his leg.

What do you do with 11 boys, one little girl, two crazy moms and a wheelchair?

Yesterday we left the kids playing and went to Target. Just the Moms, we tried on hats and sunglasses, we giggled, we bought rugs? I don't know why we bought rugs...oh yeah, I had a bridal shower to go to, and they were cute and cheap.

Back at Boy House we sat in the car listening to music and slapping little hands trying to steal our Salt and Vinegar chips. We thought about a big sleepover and made pumpkin cookies. A big sleepover was ruled out but Suz awesomely decided to take my three youngest to her house for a mini-sleepover. Dang, my three little bed buddies gone and no Adorable Hubby to celebrate with.

OK, lets be honest, around Boy House time alone with the TV on something but video games, Disney Channel (don't get me started on Disney Channel) or football is a Boy Mom PARTY, especially if cookies are involved.

I ran to the bridal shower said my hellos and good-byes and was headed to the store for something salty to go with my Pumpkin Butterscotch Pecan cookies when a friend I haven't visited with forever stopped me for an hour visit, hooray! Two girl friend in one day, don't know if I can handle the estrogen, it was so good to see her and visit. Love me some girlfriend time!

It was getting late so I headed home without stopping at the store, got #3 and #4 and #8 some dinner tucked #3 and his broken femur into bed sent #4 over to play with a friend till eleven, ran some cookies over to a friend, not safe to have too many Pumpkin Butterscotch Pecan cookies laying around, then settled down remote in MY hand for some late night TV.

What the... the first commercial was for some company called LIBERATOR Medical Supplies, they sell catheter supplies for use at home. If you qualify you may never have to re-use a catheter again. Gaakwhattheickouch!

Catheter Supplies? For use at home? Advertised during such a rare experience as Boy Mom TV time??? That is seriously NOT RIGHT! (even if I hadn't just suffered through a really bad catheter experience with #3 and the broken leg).

LIBERATOR is the name of the company??? Folks if you have to use a catheter at home...you are not free/liberated, whatever. Shudder!

I changed channels, ate a few more pumpkin cookies, House was starting. Love me some House!

It was an intense episode Dr. House and a cleverly random group of patients and medical personnel were being held hostage by a Sick Man determined to get a diagnosis, he just "Had to know". Tensions were high the swat team was just outside Cuddy's office. The sick man was forcing them to give any medications to an innocent hostage first, conveniently there were two doses of everything. Medical personnel were selflessly, cause we all know how selfless medical personnel are, volunteering in place of the innocent patient/hostages. Well, actually they were selflessly volunteering for, hinted at, ulterior motives sure to be explored in future episodes, but still. Eventually, Sick Man Who "Had To Know", gave away some hostages in order to secure a trip to radiology where the amazing Dr. House, who mysteriously knew how to run a CT scanner, (I work with doctors and CT Techs, trust me, a doctor who knows how to work the equipment is truly amazing), convinced Sick Man to give up his gun for an accurate scan but, alas, found NO TUMOR. Sick Man dropped his head in discouragement. A random hostage and medical personnel, who had stayed to see the outcome of the CT scan, gave the camera a dramatic look, House handed Sick Man back the gun...

What the... I woke up to an episode of NCIS or something. Dang git! Now I'll never know if House was able to figure out the diagnosis or if Sick Man shot him and ended the season.

Give me some time for me and I'm such a party animal!

Laugh If You Must

So, once a good friend of mine told me that her truest career dream was to be a prosecuting attorney.

Because I'm super supportive and sensitive to other peoples dreams and aspirations I did the most supportive thing a true friend could do. I laughed. I'm such an @$$ sometimes. I still feel really bad about it.

I think she's forgiven me because she's a really great person just with a crappy friend. Sorry again, Mandi!

Anyways, since that moment of "shining friendship" on my part I've thought a lot about what I really would like to be when I grow up. And now, here, for the first time, in front of all my really sensitive bloggy friends I offer the deepest career dream of my heart.

I want to be a Jazz Singer. How amazing would it be to wrap my sexy, slinky body around a microphone stand and huskily croon low sultry blues, occasionally reaching for the perfectly pitched high note, to old men in wool fedoras smelling of tobacco and stale booze.

Forget for a moment that even before seven pregnancies and seven billion extra calories slinky was never an adjective used to describe my body and that I can't exactly sing. I really love this vision of myself.

Go ahead LAUGH! I deserve it.

Under Where?

As I was getting #7 dressed this AM we had this conversation about playing at his cousin Kenneth's house.


#7: Mom yesterday when I was at Kenneth's house he let me borrow a pair of his underwear.

Boy Mom: Why did he let you borrow his underwear? My Boy Mom radar begins flashing.

#7: Eecause he's my bestest friend in the whole world! He spreads his arms wide to illustrate his point.

Boy Mom: No, I mean why did you need to borrow HIS underwear? Since I can't get him to wear his OWN underwear I was mighty curious.

#7: Eecause I didn't have any on. Surprise!

Boy Mom: Where were your underwear? I do make him put them on every morning just for fun.

#7: My underwear were home on the bathroom floor. Surprise! I'm just waiting for a call from the school saying he left them on the bathroom floor there.

Boy Mom: Did you have pants on? What? It's a legitimate question with this one.

#7: Yes! Accompanied by an exaggerated eye roll.

Boy Mom: Then why did you need to borrow Kenneth's underwear?

#7: Eecause #6 and me and Kenneth wanted to be NAKED Ma... Ohh, I mean UNDERWEAR MAN!!!

Boy Mom: WHAT???

#7: You don't get it Mom. No, despite years of boys and their super hero alter egos, No I don't get it!

Boy Mom: I won't let you play at Kenneth's house if you are going to play Naked Man or Underwear Man!

#7: OK ! We'll play it here! Major eye rolling!

Boy Mom: That's not what I mean...

I quit, obviously I'd lost control of the conversation. I thought parenting was supposed to be easier with the last one.

Holy Shit Magnet Batman!

Through out our marriage Adorable Hubby and I have had a few friends we lovingly referred to as, "Shit magnets". You probably know one or two of these people who just seem to attract bad stuff.

After spending all of September with the piggy flu, stitches for #7 two weeks ago and then on the last day of the month a shattered femur for #3...I'm suspicious that we're 'those' friends.

#3 is on the mend and wants to attend his teams football game tomorrow night. I survived watching #4's football game tonight, only bursting into tears when a player from the other team stayed down holding his thigh. Is it mean that I cried harder when he walked off the field between his coaches?

Thanks again for your prayers in our behalf.

It's safety week at our elementary school. #7 came home with a green ribbon around his wrist to remind him about all the safety tips he's learning. When #6 asked #7 what his green ribbon was for #7 replied, "It's for Safety Week."

What's Safety Week about?" Asked #6.

"It's to teach us not to get killed and stuff." #7 replied.

I think you're on to something #7!

I'm getting a green ribbon for everyone in the family. Let's hope it will reverse the magnetic polarity we've got going.