Football Season 2012

Perfect night for football.

Sweat and contemplation.  #9 Joe Smith

The home crowd.

Taking the field. # 36 Ben Smith 

Interception. Jeremiah Smith #45

Even the moon came to play. Jeremiah Smith #45

There is something about a cool shiver in the evening air and lights coming on as the sun sets. 

   The barky smell of fallen leaves on damp, chalked grass, pumpkin spiced latte, sweat and the satisfying thwurack of a really great hit. 

Players, coaches and referees silhouetted against aluminum bleachers and autumn blue sky, bigger then life in colors they'll always be loyal too.  

The mutual risings and shared groans of the blanketed crowd, the rushed cadence of something like music from a band and hearing your kids name from the announcer, especially the other teams. 

And always a non-supportive sibling from the three and younger gang wailing with the cheers, the noise-maker group enthusiastically embarrassing themselves.  

Pizza cold as cardboard or over priced hot dogs and popcorn. A hooded sweatshirt is fashion haute couture. 

That one mom just off work in high heels and a short black skirt...where does she work again?  And, the dad's who played, who really know, their butts firmly planted on cold metal their souls wearing a helmet and cleats.  

There it is, that glance from the sideline, the slight lift of a face-masked chin, acknowledgement that all this matters, and  that in a few short years when Fall means extra yard work and changing out the anti-freeze there'll be a warm gathering in the heart, a whoop of triumph in the soul, and lights coming on as the sun sets.

AhhhHaa!

Did I mention I love words? 

Love em!

Came across a really great one the other night at work. At the hospital. Around 2:00 AM. In a Medical Terms dictionary. 

gubernaculum /gu·ber·nac·u·lum/ (goo″ber-nak´u-lum) pl. guberna´cula   [L.] a guiding structure.gubernac´ular

---

gubernaculum tes´tis  the fetal ligament attached at one end to the lower end of the epididymis and testis and at its other end to the bottom of the scrotum; it is present during the descent of the testis into the scrotum and then atrophies.

Dorland's Medical Dictionary for Health Consumers. © 2007 by Saunders, an imprint of Elsevier, Inc. All rights reserved.

 

AhhHaa!  Now we know why men don't feel the need to ask for directions.  They have a factory installed guidance system that got the boys where they needed to go.  And reminding them that it has atrophied is only likely to bring up comments about how lack of use can cause atrophy in other structures; soooooo...

Try saying it a few times, goo-ber-nac-u-lemmm, GOO-BER-NAC-U-LEM!  Gubernaculem.  Kinda puts a smile on your face and takes your mind off of driving through that same intersection over and over and over...

 

 

 

 

Rude Awakening

 

I get woken up for really odd reasons at all times of the day.  Yes, day!

I get woken up to solve big problems, "Mom, we're out of  spaghetti sauce."

"Mom, everybody in this family uses me for their punching bag."  I get woken up to deal with drama.

I get woken up for physics.  #7's finger and the door tried to occupy the same space at the same time.

I get woken up to be a calendar.  "Mom, do I have a baseball game today?"
 "Mom, what time is my baseball game at?" And, a clock.

I get woken up to be a counselor, "Mom, why are girls so...stupid?"
"Um, I'm a girl."
"I know, that's why I'm asking you."

And, I get woken up to answer tricky questions.  "Mom, how much longer are you going to sleep?"

None of it really bugs me, I choose to work at night so I can be there to be woken up by my most important job, motherhood.

Thursday I was in a really deep sleep, felt something in my hair reached up and OW! got stung by a wasp.

Now that is a rude awakening!

The Dog Ate...Never Mind

I'm a fairly creative person and I usually run late and I am supposed to be to work at 9:00 PM sharp.  I have an amazingly forgiving manager who gives us seven minutes after our appointed clock in time before we are, "Officially late."

But, 9:00 PM is right in the middle of last minute I have a seven page report on armadillos due tomorrow homework and bedtime and, "I'm huuuunngry, you know I can't eat that disgusting stuff you made for dinner" time.

I look forward to summer because bedtime is later and dinner is later and NO HOMEWORK, que heavenly angel choirs, so of course getting out the door on time for work should be a breeze, right?

Thursday, #3 leaves at 8:30 PM to get his girlfriend home by 9:00 PM.  Yay, way to be responsible, #3!  Wait, one of the 13 zillion neighbor kids who have been in and out all day left his bike parked behind the Suburban, it's squished, #3 is near tears, the neighbor kid is in tears, #4, #5, #6, #7, #1 and the other 12 zillion neighbor kids encircle the squished bike like it's a fallen comrade, Boy Mom in a bathrobe with wet hair is calming down and lecturing about choices and responsibility and...Yep, late to work.

Friday, a cleaning frenzy that lasted until nearly 8:00 PM when I ordered #6 and #7 to pick up their toys then got in the shower, determined that tonight I would be on time.  Out of the shower with wet hair in the trusty, blue bathrobe, I step in to check the picking up process.  Rough housing and Lego's and a knee with a gaping gouge and...Yep, late to work.

Saturday, "Mom, we found this dove with a hurt wing and so we put him in our suitcase."
"Ack, why is it in your suitcase?"
"Because we need to keep it safe from dogs and stuff."
"Your suitcase will be ruined, get it out."
"We're not dumb, we put some cardboard in it and put the bird seed and water on the cardboard."
"Ack!"
A storage crate with holes a stick poked through the holes for a perch, lids for bird seed and water and a shop vac job on the spilled bird seed later and...Yep, late again.  

Did I mention I'm fairly creative and usually late?  Well, even I didn't try to explain the last few late clock-ins  who'd have believed it.

Which Came First

There are the some deep, dark, philosophical questions that have been pondered since man, uh, well, a really long time. 

Here at boy house we pride ourselves on being deep thinkers.  We allow room for science and spiritual debate and try to consider all sides of each question.

 My deep thinking #7 posed this doozey.

Which do you think came first?

Pink Nerds or purple Nerds. 

Super Summer Fun

I admit it, he started the transformation but I finished it.


 


 What is it they say, behind every good super hero is...his mother and a crayola marker?

Let's hope it wears off by Sunday. 

I miss blogging!

I have been thinking about doing a post a day for awhile!

Here goes, because all good things start on June 11th.

Of course my sister, Jenny, would disagree, but just because her birthday is June 10th.

However, she got her birthday pedicure and tattoo on June 11th so....





Am I back? 

We'll see! 

When I'm Not Boy Mom

9:00 PM,  a chubby, middle aged Radiology secretary, Susan Smith, could such a banal name be a more obvious disguise, adjusts her glasses higher on her nose and makes her way down the clinical white hallway to the radiology office.  As the door appears she sighs, hoping tonight's graveyard shift will be a quiet assortment of phone calls, patients and paperwork.  Entering the office a quick glance around the room reveals only the usual Mammo films, sticky notes and piles of scanning...but wait, a crock pot containing four day old salsa chicken, remnants of an office party, still sits on a rarely used counter.  Susan gives it a cursory glance as she puts on her rubber finger, pushes her glasses up and begins sorting. 

9:10 PM After a quick look around the office to be sure she is alone, Susan shoves her glasses onto the top of her head and begins sorting papers at super speed her rubber finger smoking as a haphazard mound of paperwork is reduced in a dizzy blur to a tidy scanning pile and shredding pile. Getting paperwork filed quickly is always best, it might be a quiet night but one never knows what evil doings may be afoot.

9:17 PM Susan's pulls her glasses back into place on her wrinkled nose, "What is that smell?" Suddenly, a full breasted hen, dripping with four day old salsa and a little cheese emerges from the crock pot with an evil cackle, "Bock, bock, brrrrocck, buwahahahabock."

Gasp, "It's Dr. Salmonella, I thought she was in lock down on the psych unit!"  Susan exclaims as she dashes out the door and down the hall. 

"Come back and fight, or are you chicken?" screeches Dr. Salmonella pulling a double barreled Blechk 2012 Germ Ray out from under her wing.

Susan jerks open the door to the Radiologist bathroom, sending a startled, red faced doctor down the hall grumbling about looney office ladies as he zips his fly.
 

9:21 PM As green flashes of phosphorescent light and the pewpewpew sounds of the germ ray flash from the office door, someone swirls out of the Radiologists bathroom.  It's Lady 'O Night, her extra strength spandex body suit can withstand toxic levels of bacteria, her fishnet stockings only rarely snag, and her cape...Ahhh the cape, shimmers and swirls around her, sequins and fluff, flashing and fluttering. 
 

Her sensible, sequined, sneakers squeaking on the hospital blue linoleum, Lady O' Night dashes into the office, Dr. Salmonella laughing maniacally "Buwahahahabock!" is covering every surface with germy, green, slime. 

Lady O' Night reaches for her utility belt, "Duoh, must be home on the body suit that's in the laundry."  With a habitual swipe at her glasses,  she grabs a handful of paper clips and a bottle of hand sanitizer.  "Hey, Dr. Salmonella, to get back to the Psych unit you need to go down to the second hall, turn left, watch for the elevators about half way down the hall,  also on your left, go up three floors...Hey!  As a slimey bolt from the germ ray barely misses her. 

"You office ladies and your parties, buwahahahbock!"  Dr. Salmonella sneers, well, as much as a 5" 9", fleshy breasted, salsa covered hen with a bright pink lipsticked beak and false eyelashes can sneer.  "I could get anywhere in this hospital in a Tupperware or one of your crock pots."

"Whatever, I've coated each of these paper clips in hand sanitizer after I throw them at you, I'm going to dash down to Central Distribution grab some alcohol wipes and a can of orange anti-bacterial spray... or we can do this the easy way."

"No! Not sanitized paper clips!  I'll get you next time Lady O' Night."   Dr. Salmonella turns to leave, "Wait, did you say the SECOND hall"

And so  the day, uhh, night is saved, peaceful boredom and paperwork are restored to Radiology and once again Susan Smith adjusts her glasses and reaches for her rubber finger. 



At the risk of giving away my secret identity, I think I deserve movie tickets :) 

It might be argued that cleaning out a four day old crock pot with hand sanitizer and paper towels is a lot like being a Boy Mom.  Oh well, I got my movie tickets.

Mom of the Year

It's only  May but I'm well on my way to being that coveted Mom of the Year grand prize winner. 

Language, we all know that getting your children to use appropriate language is somehow vitally important to turning out good little lads and lassies who don't get themselves sent to the principals office too frequently. With a household of boys I've gotta admit I'm not so much trying to win the battle more convince them that I'm a girl and that means...awright, who am I kidding? I can out potty-mouth all of them so don't get me started.

For instance at dinner hour the other night (could there be a more stress filled hour in the day?) #7 and #6 start roughhousing, I'm trying to combine hamburger that may or may not have sat in the fridge to long, pasta shaped like radiators, a couple of limp carrots and a can of spaghetti sauce into something at least one of them won't complain about while I yell at the youngest three to finish up homework.

 #3 and #4 are prowling the kitchen hungry and sweaty from track and Ultimate Frisbee practice, accompanied by sweaty, hungry friends and cute little teenage neighborhood girls.  #5 is bossing #7 and #6, and refusing to finish his homework and trying to join in with the teenage conversation which I like, can't even like, understand, because like, they use like as nouns, and like, verbs, and like, I know, right?

Inevitably, just as all this happiness is swirling around us #7 starts calling someone a, plug your eyes sensitive readers, douche bag. Grrr, my Boy Mom senses start tingling and I whirl from the stove a pattern of spaghetti sauce splots fanning the wall and fridge in my wake, "Hey, #7, quit calling your brother a douche bag!" I yell sweetly request.

"He is a douche bag!" yells #7 as he launches himself from a bar stool, towards the offending brother, fists clenched.

"I am not a douche bag, I told him to quit wrestling with #6 and he wouldn't, he's the douche bag!" As he fends of seven year old fists.

"I don't have to listen to you, Douche bag!" #7 yells and lands a well placed fist earning him a punch back from a much bigger #4. "Oww, that hurt's you big Douche bag." He starts to cry and punch harder.

That's when years of honed, practiced, parenting expertise take over and I sink my spaghetti saucy fingers so deeply into that Mom of the Year award you'll never pry them off.  "#7, you know your brother is a douche bag, it's an accepted fact that he's a douche bag, but you are pushing the douche buttons.  Quit pushing his douche buttons and he'll quit being a douche bag to you!"

A moment of silence, followed by shrieks of teenage laughter, "Sorry, Mom, were not undermining your parenting...douche buttons...buwahhhhahaah..gasp, ha, ha."

"Mom what's a douche button?"


Happy Mother's Day!

Roll Up Those Genes, Spring Has Sprung

Setting: Front yard where Boy Mom is admiring her blooming bulbs and enjoying a moment of quiet. #3 and #4 walk up having returned from a church activity.

#3: Yo, Mom! What's for dinner.

#4: Now here we see an example of Co-dominance. (As he points to a white and orange Daffodil that bloomed today.)

#3: Dinner Mom??? I'm starving!

#4: You see, when the white flower, uhhh...mates? with the orange flower, the dominate gene for white and the dominate gene for orange...

#3: (interrupts) Uh Oh! Nerd alert!

#4: (ignores and continues) ... each contribute alleles with out overpowering the other so both colors are represented.

#3: I'm making everybody French Toast for dinner.

#4: I need to take a poop then I'll help you.

Boy Mom: Uhhh...wash your hands.

Happy spring from my heterozygous flowers...and teens.

I have three sons serving as missionaries for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. this is the Easter letter I sent to them. I try not to get to preachy here in blog land because heaven knows I am the last person that should be preaching to anyone. I do believe in God and his son Jesus Christ and I believe in love. Nothing has taught me more about love than being married to my husband and being the mother of eight beautiful sons.

Dear Boys,

I put a couple packages together for Jacob and Tyler then I decided that it really didn't make sense to spend 12 dollars to send 5 dollars worth of candy to you! Things are a little tight right now so I ended up giving your treats to the little boys and that saved me buying them candy. I had planned to send you each a card with a little money but work and life got in the way and since we aren't sure if we can send anything to Josh except emails I decided to just email you all my testimony of Christ.

I have thought a lot about what Jesus Christ means to me on this Easter day! My thoughts have come down to this one thing. Yeshua born of Mary a literal Son of God teaches me most purely of my divinity, my worth, and my claim as a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves me and cherishes me. As I think of each of you, your amazing strengths, your little hang-ups,and your unique personalities I am humbled by the the love I feel for you as it compares with Gods love for me.

Rarely does a day go by that I don't see or hear something that reminds me of each of you. And each time I think of you I am filled with gratitude for the things you teach me and the parts of you that remind me of the sacrifice of our Savior, Jesus Christ. You each save me as I see my strengths and my sins amplified in you.

I am thankful that Christ came to teach me not to cling to human experience but to live each moment and move on. I am grateful that He teaches me to know my relationship in this simply, vast universe, to know that I am never, for one teensy moment, alone. I love the abundance He taught by possessing no earthly goods. I delight that over and over He showed by word and deed that rules and policies and guidelines, be they of man or God, are only powerful if they are rooted in and applied with love. "On these two hang all the laws and all the prophets, Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself." I am touched that over and over those who chose to live as he lived, in humble realization of THEIR power to order and guide their life through unwavering faith in God were healed.

Jesus Christ knelt in Gethsemane's garden, in solemn tribute to the promises made in Eden's garden. He bled from every pore, oh the symbolic significance in each droplet of blood. Then in agony, deserted by sleeping friends, even this Son of God pled with His Father, "remove this cup". He endured silently the taunts and torments of his Roman captors, he groaned beneath the weight of His cross. Forgave, three times in the hour of his death then commended his soul back to it's wellspring . He did not save us by being perfect, He surrendered all condemnation and judgement of our experiences in this mortal sphere and thus became perfect, and taught us the source of our salvation, do not condemn, do not judge, only love. He rose, and came forth out of the tomb on Easter Morn, clothed in immortality and eternal life and Mary called him "Master"

From your first breath each of you has taught me this perfecting love by loving me and freely allowing me my experiences, my moments of clarity and my foolish sins, without judgement. You teach me of my Savior, of what it means to love as God loves me. You are each priceless and beautiful beyond the ability of mortal lips expression.

Love each soul you encounter as Jesus loves. Know that each soul has a mother who loves them as I love you. Believe in Christ, see him in each set of eyes you meet, in each hand you touch. Let no one leave your presence with out giving them a moment of pure presence a moment of oneness. That is my Easter wish for you, my Easter gift to you, and my testimony of the risen Lord!

I hope you each had a glorious Easter day!

I love you, Dad loves you!

Strength and Honor

Mom and Dad

You're It

I have been such a sporadic blog updater lately that I was stunned to get a tag from Barb. I love you Barb! This may be the just thing to help me find my blogging mojo.

Here are my answers to her questions.


1. Where is your dream vacation?



Easy, Oregon Coast.

I can wander the beach for hours, or hike the gorgeous and rare temperate rainforests depending if I go west or east coming out of my hotel room. A unique and beautiful experience.

That being said, I have been stuck in UT for so stinkin' long I'd settle for a tent vacation to Sagebrush Flats, Nevada.

I would also love to go to Europe and the Seychelles.


2. What is your favorite movie that has Hugh Jackman in it?



I love him in X-Men Origins, who wouldn't? But, for me it's The Fountain, I love the symbolism and the Tattoo's and his passion for his woman.


3. What book could you read over and over and never be sick of it?


Twilight!! Ha! I jest people! Can you believe I didn't take a picture of this awesome apple cupped in two hands Twilight book cover style.

Seriously does such a book exist?

I love books, don't get me wrong, but over and over without boredom??? Sorry.


4. What's the last movie you saw in the theater?


Umm...hmmm, oh yes, Chronicle! I enjoyed it, and the popcorn.


5. Why did you start blogging?

My sister-in-law got me started and the Because I said So lady. I must admit that it is now painful to keep the Because I Said So lady on my sidebar but I give credit where credit is due.


6. What store would be your favorite for a shopping spree?



The Garden store.

Yes, it's true, I would compromise every moral fiber for a Garden Store Sugar Daddy.

Trellises, benches, decking materials, water features, plants, hoses, shovels, bulbs, rocks, seeds, fertilizer, pots, gnomes...ahhhh!


7. If you were 'Queen for a Day' what rules would you impose?



LOL I'm really hung up on this one, "with great power comes great responsibility" I guess.

Thinking...nope, nothing is coming... what am I queen of?

Oh, I know!

Every single urine drop must land in the toilet water, doesn't matter what direction you aim, if you aim, how old you are, if it's 3:00 AM and you are cuddled between your clean sheets, EVERY DROP! And, if my rules are broken then, "Off with their...ummm, heads!"

8. Heels or flats?

I'm a cute flip flops girl.


9. Do you have a traditional Sunday dinner?

Yes! We're the freakin' Walton's when it comes to family togetherness on Sundays.


10. What's your favorite song right now?


Me
By Paula Cole Paula Cole


11. What's your dream job?


Don't laugh... Tavern owner.

Stop laughing!

I love having people over to visit, eat, and feel they have a place where, whatever they are and wherever they are in life's journey they are accepted and loved. I've fed door-to-door salesmen, cable installers, neighbor kids, friends and family for years, I might as well start serving them ale and stabling their horse for the night, right?

The other option was sultry jazz singer...


This was fun! Thanks, Barb!

OK, I tag

Tiffany at Families are Forever

Cathy at Ridin' The Range

Ginny at Mark and Ginny Stewart

LaShel at Reality Hits the Fan

Amy at Adams Family

Jenny at Alternate Readality

Techno Grandma at The James Family

Mama Lovelock at Mama LoveLock

Mummy at Mummy McTavish

Suz at Jason, Suz and the Grunts.

And Mandoo, you know who you are, girl.

All these names are on my side bar if I wait till I get them linked this is never going to get posted so there you go.

And here are some questions for you.


1. Pets, Love em or hate em?

2. Favorite Household cleaning product.

3. What is your most guilty, guilty pleasure?

4. Chocolate, Dark or light.

5. The best parenting tip you've ever got.

6. If you were secretly a super hero what would your name be and what super power would you have.

7. I just gave you 100 dollars, how do you spend it?

8. Are you addicted to a TV show? Do tell.

9. Who's your movie star crush?

10. Who is the most inspirational person in your life?

My Guilty Valentine

They say confession is good for the soul.

My Mom's birthday is January 30th.

I happened to be at the England Store in Salt Lake City earlier that month and bought her a huge Cadbury chocolate bar with filberts, her very favorite nut.

Mom has moved from across the street to a town a couple hours away so I tucked her chocolate bar away and waited for her to visit. On her birthday I mentioned that I had the chocolate and told her to come visit soon before she ended up sharing it with me.

On Valentines day I ate it! The whole thing.

Thanks for the Valentine, Mom...


it was delicious.

Sorry!

Woah!

So many things to catch up on.

December: Sick Boy Mom, dang nose, and lungs, much empathy for sinus/asthma sufferers everywhere. Missionary number three headed out on the 28th, many hours and dollars of preparation during a very busy month but he LOVES it. Christmas sat in bins and boxes until a near Adorable Hubby meltdown. Presents were simple kinda, #2 wanted to give his brothers a going away XBox 360 and TV, we split the cost and his brothers were thrilled.


Boy Mom and #2 at the Salt Lake City Temple.



January: No snow. More sinus crud, seriously? OK I get it, be nice to sinus sufferers, enough already. Christmas finally put away after a near Adorable Hubby melt down, poor, patient man. Managed to sprout the live Christmas tree which creates a dilemma, I just can't throw a living breathing plant out on the street. Three missionary letters a week and packages for meds, and holidays and birthdays is taking over my life. Broken dryer, broken dishwasher, limping along washer, broken microwave. Where the crap is the snow?? I love snow!


Sprouting a Christmas tree has been a secret goal of mine for years. Makes the saying, "Be sure you want what you wish for", take on new meaning.




And now for your reading pleasure...

A Conversation With #7.

Scene1: Boy Mom and Adorable Hubby's bed for a 5 minute cuddle before bedtime.

Players: Adorable Hubby, Boy Mom, #7, #6, #5, the dog.

Mood: Boy Mom has seriously called for silence, it's half-an-hour past bedtime and the 5 minute cuddle has lasted 20 minutes.

After 4 minutes of silence...

#7: It would be really great to be a balloon...

Boy Mom Adorable Hubby, #5, #6: ??

#7: ...until you POPPED!

Boy Mom: (covering up a laugh) Shhhh

#7: Of course you wouldn't have hands so you couldn't eat.

Boy Mom: Fortunately balloons don't eat much.

#7: Duh! No hands!

#7, #6, #5, Boy Mom: giggle, chuckle, snort.

Adorable Hubby: Alright, everybody into their own bed...chuckle.


Scene 2: Next morning wake up time.

Setting: Boy Mom and Adorable Hubby's bed, #7 has wandered back in at some point in the night.

Mood: Frustrated Boy Mom, #7 complains about school every morning.

Players: Adorable Hubby, Boy Mom, #7, the dog.

#7: I'm not going to school, I'm sick, I have no friends, my teacher hates me, I'm too tired...

Boy Mom: Hey, #7, last night I dreamed I was a big yellow balloon and I was really hungry because I didn't have any hands. But, then you came along and fed me...

#7: ??

Boy Mom: ...With a FORK.

Boy Mom, #7: Giggle, chuckle, snort.

Adorable Hubby: Really? I'm trying to sleep here...chuckle.


#7 is really into balloons lately. I think being able to weight a balloon so that the feet actually maintain proper anatomical alignment is kinda cool. However, it's really creepy to have a green balloon with anatomically correct feet wandering around your house.


Good to be back.