What Boys Say

The boys have said a few funny things the past couple of days. A few days ago Rophone and I were discussing the fact that the 2 wheeled bike we hope to get Bud riding this summer is pink. At the time we purchased the bike, we had two girls who we knew would love it and assumed that we'd have the money to buy a new bike for any boys that might come along. (Yes, I know what they say about "assuming") 

Bud was sitting with us as we had the discussion, and was excited when we talked about getting him out on the 2-wheeler with training wheels this summer and letting Big have his old tricycle to ride. As the conversation was ending I said to Bud, "If we have enough money by summer, we'll get you a bike in a color that you'll really love, okay?" At this, Bud got even more excited and shouted out, "Yes!! In pink!" Guess we can just save that money after all. What can I say? We have a boy who's secure enough in his manhood to unabashedly flaunt his love of pink. (Here's to hoping the neighbor boys think it's as cool)

We have a map of Oregon that has illustrations to help show points of interest and teach facts about Oregon. Near the town of Joseph, Oregon, there is a drawing of Chief Joseph, the famous Nez Perce Indian for which the town is named. When Big pointed at Chief Joseph, I told him that he was a Native American. Later, I realized that Big was calling him a "Little America"-- a hotel with a restaurant that Rophone's 102 year old grandma likes to take us to. Kinda funny. 

The funniest conversation occurred this morning as I emerged from the shower to find I had an audience. 

Bud: "I really like your boobs, Mom."

Me: "Um. Thanks."

Bud: "What's so cool is that your boobs and your bum are kinda the same!"

Me: "Um. Really?"

Bud: "Yeah! They both have cracks! The crack in your bum is kinda like the crack between your boobs!"

Me: "You're right, Bud. That is kinda cool." 

*(Note to self: Lock door to bathroom next time you shower)

"Fruit" Snacks

I am not, never have been, nor ever will be a fan of fruit snacks. Everything about them just seems wrong-- the bright colors, the shapes, the firm yet gelatinous texture! They are absolutely nowhere even close to fruit-like.

I hate them already, but what happened this morning solidified those feelings immortally in my brain. Rophone buys fruit snacks on occasion (yes, he knows I dislike them, but I'm no Hitler!), and Big seems to be a bit addicted. When fruit snacks are in the house, he tends to have a one track mind about what he wants to ingest. 

Anyway, Big awoke this morning at about 5 am. (lucky me) and I kept telling him to go back to sleep. At about 6 am I had to endure what was probably only 5 minutes, but felt like 5 hours, of Big yelling, "Fruit snacks! I need fruit snacks!" The stuff of nightmares (if only I could get some sleep, that is).

Is it bad that at times like those I dream of the empty-nester years?  

The Poem

The girls didn't have school today, so I was bound and determined to make them clean their rooms today. I knew it wouldn't be pretty... and I was right. There was a lot of complaining, some yelling (okay, a lot of yelling at first-- but I told the girls that I'm allowed to harp and nag after weeks of asking nicely), eye-rolling, sighs of exasperation... definitely not pretty!

What I found quite amazing, though, is that as the rooms got cleaner, the attitudes got better. It was as if by clearing out the junk and arranging the clutter they felt a load being lifted. The girls were no longer feeling overwhelmed by the incredible (and I mean unreal!) amount of stuff surrounding them. I could tell they were feeling relieved and more free. Conversations returned to normal and they even told me they love me! I tried to talk to them about what occurred-- what do you think the chances are that any of it stuck? (Ha!)

Because we cleaned their rooms this morning, they were both able to go play with friends in the afternoon when the invitations came. When I went to pick-up Ginger after her play date, she handed me a poem she had written while she was there. I could tell it was inspired by our morning, and I love it. Here is what it says:

You make me feel happy.

But I sometimes feel crappy.

But I love you!

I love you, too, Ginger! (Here's to hoping their rooms stay clean for a day or two!)

Grateful for Large and Small

I was going to title this post "Grateful for Big and Little", but I thought you might wonder who "Little" is. I am very grateful for Big, of course-- I'm just not grateful for anyone named Little. I have been needing to do this for a while, as the responsibilities and difficulties involved in motherhood and life have begun to overwhelm and make me lose sight of just how truly blessed I am. Motherhood is a tough job, that often goes unaided or appreciated (sorry, Mom!), so a systems check every so often is called for.

Here we go:

Large

1. My children (especially when well behaved) and their general good health and happiness. 

2. My husband-- who loves and respects me for who I am (not that things are always perfect-- they're not-- and he loves me anyway).

3. Prayer-- it can be a life saver.

4. Family and Friends. 

5. The generosity of others.

6. Repentance and Forgiveness.

7. Love

8. All my fingers and toes. (And the limbs they're attached to!)

9. Talents (both mine and those of others).

10. Fruits and vegetables.

Small

1. ?

2. ?

3. ?

Okay, you can see I'm having a hard time thinking of some small things I'm grateful for. As I tried to think of some, with each one I could pose an argument for why it could be considered for the large category, depending on the day or the situation. 

There are days when that glass of chocolate milk is an absolute life saver, or when not having very hairy legs absolutely saves my bacon because I have to wear a skirt and didn't have time to shave! Really, I guess I should be grateful for all I have equally, because all of it is a blessing-- more of a blessing sometimes than others, but a blessing nonetheless. 

(Well, it worked. I don't know if it made any sense, but I feel better already!) 

I Won!

Recently, I entered a contest to name a Wacky Sockit. The winner would receive the Wacky Sockit, along with a little story written about the creature using it's new name. The Wacky Sockits are made by my friend Pat, and are sold at her etsy store. 

Here is a picture of Harold "The Tongue" Beekman, a former "heavy" in the Wacky Sockits mob:

Bud, looking like he's melting in the sun as he holds Harold:

Ginger, showing off Harold's fine form:

Harold's story, as written by my friend, Pat, goes like this:

"Yeah, the mob boss called him a stool pigeon, but Harold "The Tongue" Beekman knew it was the right thing to do, turning the boss in for cheating on his eye exam. Harold had done the same thing years earlier and just look where it got him. He will remain in the witness protection program until further notice, so if you see him on the street, just look the other way."

Great story and fantastic Wacky Sockit, Pat! I am so excited to have won! Thanks!

Where's Big?

Big has not been wanting to get his diaper changed lately, so I have taken to letting him hold two rocks from my collection while we take care of business. Big loves to play peek-a-boo by covering his eyes with his hands, so when he said, "Where's Mommy? Where's Big?", I was expecting to look at him and see his hands over his eyes. 

I was more than a little surprised to see this: 

Kinda creepy looking, huh? But rather clever, I think. Big is so funny and creative-- I can't wait to see what he does next.

Ginger Lost a Tooth!

Today was a banner day for Ginger-- she lost her first tooth! Not much to say about it, really, but quite a momentous occasion. It happened while biting into the burrito that was her school lunch--the school burritos are quite hard, but in a good way, apparently (yeah, I'm not so sure I believe that one, either). I don't normally like the girls to eat school lunch, but doubt that the sandwich I would have sent with Ginger would have done the trick. So, today, school lunch was a good thing. 

Ginger, minus one tooth:

She has already stuck a straw through the hole to take a drink. Congratulations Ginger! 

The Switch

At our house, we believe in a schedule. In fact, we live by it. I have found that I have to deal with far fewer tantrums when my children sleep, are fed at regular increments and feel secure in what is to come next. It's not to say that we do the exact same thing every day, but I almost think it makes things like surprise trips to the zoo a little easier to pull off because the kids are certain that some things (like being fed) will still occur. 

Anyway, I digress a bit. The point of mentioning our schedule is that the bedtime ritual is more or less always the same. The kids go to bed mostly without complaint, because they know how it's all done and that's just the way it is. Part of our bedtime ritual is that after family prayer, before getting in his own bed, Big helps tuck Bud in and then turns out Bud's light. This is where things can get a little dicey. Sometimes it can take quite a while to accomplish the task.

Here is a picture of Bud's switch plate:

Those of you who have been following the blog are aware that Big has a bit of a ball addiction, so, the fact that Bud's light switch is surrounded by balls.... well, it can make it a bit of an ordeal to get the light turned out. Here is an example of how it can go:

Me: "Turn the light out, Big"

Big: (as he points) "Backet-ball, base-a-ball, soccer ball..."

Me: "Yes, Big, just like last night-- now turn the light out."

Big: "... football, backet-ball, base-a-ball...."

Me: (a bit exasperatedly) "Yep! Just like every night we do this, Big. Turn the light out or I will!" 

Most nights, I can get Big to stop about here and he will turn the light out (you may have noticed that there is a hockey puck up in the left hand corner-- Big obviously isn't interested in hockey and ignores it completely). Other nights, it can go on and on like this:

Big: "soccerball, football, star, star, star..."

Me: (with resignation) "Please turn the light out, Big"

Big: "...star, star, star, star.." (yes, there are seven stars!)

I know he really doesn't want to go to bed if he gets to this:

Big: (still pointing as he goes) "... screw, screw.....WALL, more wall..."

I usually don't let it get this far, because when it is time for the kids to be in bed I am READY for them to be in bed. But, if we're actually a few minutes early I'll let him do it. It's kind of funny.... until it stops being funny. Then I'll put a stop to it. I mean, my alone time in the evenings is sacred. I'll only let him mess with it for so long.  

Big's Bad Day

The day was not a stellar one for Big. Today was one of those days where he probably should have just stayed in bed, poor kid. I am completely and utterly surprised that we didn't have to make a visit to the ER. Glad, but surprised.

It all started just about midnight when Big awoke with a severe coughing fit that just wouldn't quit, and a nose that dripped like water. I ended up snuggling with him for several hours until he decided he was ready to go back to bed. 

In the morning, it was more of the same-- incessant coughing, and wiping his nose every 30 seconds (at least!). It took me until 10 am for him to let me eat breakfast. While I was poaching a few eggs, Big asked for a drink, so I turned my back on him just long enough to grab his sippy cup out of the fridge. Yeah, just long enough for him to reach up and touch the hot pan on the stove! (Guess who'll be using only back burners from now on?)

Big was upset again, of course, so I had to do a lot more snuggling and nose wiping. To help raise his spirits, I started letting Big throw the snotty, used pieces of toilet paper into the toilet. He has moved beyond his earlier days of using the toilet seat as a giant teething ring, so I feel quite safe in letting him go in there alone... as long as he comes right back out, that is. 

Anyway, he took a pile of used tissue into the bathroom to throw it away and came back out muttering something like, "Uh, oh. Threw it away." I praised him for a job well done, but he left the room again, looking concerned. Imagine my surprise when, a minute later, he was back with a dripping wet sock in his hand. The boys had taken off their socks and left them next to the pile of tissues, so Big had apparently thrown one in the toilet by mistake. What a smart boy to have fished it out himself, but he left me quite a puddle of toilet water to clean up. 

At this point, I decided I'd give working out a go. Big likes hanging out in the basement while I ride the stationary bike, so I thought it would keep him occupied and maybe close to happy. While I was riding, my legs pumping at a steady and quite rapid clip, Big came over to talk to me. Suddenly he bent over to retrieve something he'd dropped, and before I could stop my little legs from a-pumping.... Whap! I kicked Big right in the face! Hard! Needless to say, a lot more snuggling and nose wiping then ensued. 

I couldn't believe it! Not even lunch time and Big has already burned his hand, fished around in a toilet and been kicked in the face. It's no wonder he begged me to put him down for a nap instead of eating lunch!

Here is a shot of Big post getting kicked in the face. It doesn't show up real well, but see the little sideways 'V' below his right eye? Yeah.... that's the print of my shoelaces on his face. (I told you I kicked him hard!)  

I took pity on the kid and put him down for his nap like he asked. Unfortunately, he only slept about 1/2 hour because he was coughing too much. Nuts! I left him in his crib for a while longer, kind of afraid to get him out (and needing a bit of a break myself, quite frankly). 

When I finally got Big up, it was more of the same-- nose wiping and snuggling. At about 2 o'clock, he finally agreed that he would try and eat something. He was sitting at the table, and things were going alright... until Big started coughing uncontrollably. The next thing I knew, he gagged on mucous and barfed all over the kitchen table. Nice! Needless to say, he said he was done. More snuggling and nose wiping.

At about 3:30, Big started playing on the stairs. I told him I didn't want him to play there, just as he dropped something on the step below where he was standing. As he bent forward to pick it up, that big noggin' of his took him right over. Nuts again! I helplessly listened to the head over heels tumble, ending with a resounding 'THWACK!' as he hit the door frame at the bottom. 

I know you can guess what happened next-- more snuggling and nose-wiping, of course. Here is what he looked like post-tumble-down-the-stairs:

 

Definitely a little worse for the wear, poor kid. At this point, I was feeling like a very sad (and bad) mommy, so I was grateful to hear Rophone opening the back door as he came home early. As Big got down off my lap to run to his dad I thought, "it's all going to be fine now", just as Big ran smack into a chair --'BONK' --on his way for a hug. Big looked at his dad and moaned, "I hurt." That says it all, poor kid.

Eight!

 

Ginger celebrated her 8th birthday yesterday. I am still finding it hard to believe, although she told me she feels like she's 10 (thank goodness she's not-- I find one 10 year old to be quite enough, thank you!).

Pen hand-sewed her a little pouch to put things in.

Sitting with my folks, who came to help her celebrate:

 

A book she's really been wanting:

Sizing up the cake:

Maybe wishing the candles weren't quite so spread out...

I think she had a great time and really appreciated all of the gifts and phone calls she received. Ginger can't wait to be baptized at the end of the month-- she had her Bishop's interview on Sunday and set out what she wanted to wear several days before the event. Excited is an understatement. Happy Birthday, Ginger!!

Pay it Forward

I know that some of you are wondering if I am terribly ill or have fallen off the face of the earth. I'm still around, but Rophone has once again commandeered my laptop for our project. I'll get back to posting pictures and blogging insanely hilarious and interesting stuff soon. ; )

In the meantime, I got an idea for a little gift exchange of sorts from my friend, Lima. The Pay it Forward Exchange. If you'd like to join me, follow the instructions below. This is how it works:

The Pay it Forward Exchange is based on the concept of the movie "Pay it Forward". I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment to this post on my blog requesting to join the PiF Exchange. All of the gifts will be made and posted out 'sometime within the next year'. How exciting to not know when your surprise package will arrive! 

If you choose to participate, you need to pay it forward by extending the same invitation and making the same promise on your blog. The Exchange is only open to those with active websites or blogs. All you have to do is promise to post this same 'Pay it Forward' message onto your blog, which must be active in order to play. You will pay it forward to 3 people who comment on your blog. 

I'd love for you to join me! Will you? (A risky proposition, I know-- you never know what I might send!) Other comments are welcome, but only the first 3 will be my Pay it Forward recipients. Come and join me!