At the dinner table tonight, Ginger began to gargle her water and Bud hollered at her, "Don't barfle it!!"
We corrected Bud, but it didn't stop Big from saying, "Can I barfle it? .... Oh, I can't. It's hard." and "Can you barfle it, Daddy?" and, once informed of what's proper, "We don't barfle at the table. It's rude!" We laughed every time. By the end of dinner Big had corrected it to "gargle", but I wouldn't be surprised if our family continues to call it barfling. It's way more fun.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Thanksgiving Weekend Funnies
I don't have a single photo to post from Thanksgiving. Nope. Not a one. The meal was fantastic, though, if I do say so myself. I especially liked the cauliflower brussels sprout gratin that I made. Brussels sprouts are Rophone's favorite vegetable, so I was trying to find a way for him to get his favorite, but yet have him not be the only one to eat them. It was a fantastic dish. You can find the recipe here if you're interested.
Oh, I guess I did take this picture on Thanksgiving day, but it's not of anything Thanksgiving-y.
But it's still kind of nice.
As usual, my kids provided ample entertainment. The day after Thanksgiving we were enjoying lunch as a family, having a great time, when suddenly Big looks at me and says, "Hey, Mom! Ask me, 'So, Big, how are your Cheetos?'" Apparently he was feeling left out of the mealtime conversation. Sorry, Big!
Oh, and in case you're wondering, his Cheetos are good.
Then I stumbled across this doodle of Ginger's.
Bud thinks that it's a Martian in a dress. That's why abstract art is so great. It can be interpreted in so many different ways! Yup. Just because I only see one thing doesn't mean that someone else can't see something completely different!
Big is really into role playing these days. He pretends to be Grizzly Ted the school bus driver from The Berenstain Bears while he drives me around in our love seat. He pretends to be Cousin Freddie when he plays catch and Brother Bear when he plays baseball. (Can you guess what his favorite show is?) But, his favorite role to play is that of his daddy. He becomes Daddy and Rophone becomes Big.
The thing that is amazing about when Big does his role playing is his ability to stay in character-- for hours on end sometimes. He gets so frustrated with my inability to remember to call him by the proper name. He just continues to remind me, and I try to get it right.
Today at lunch, Big (playing the role of Daddy) volunteered to say the prayer. It went something like this--
"....We're grateful for this day. Please bless that Daddy will drive home safely..."
(Then, as an aside to himself)-- "Oh, wait, that's me!"
"...Please bless that I will drive home safely..."
Praying that Rophone will drive home safely is something that Big always does, even if Rophone is with us as he was today. It's just hilarious that he stayed in character even while he prayed!
No one ever said he was a normal 2-year-old, most certainly not me. Man, I love that kid!
Oh, I guess I did take this picture on Thanksgiving day, but it's not of anything Thanksgiving-y.
But it's still kind of nice.
As usual, my kids provided ample entertainment. The day after Thanksgiving we were enjoying lunch as a family, having a great time, when suddenly Big looks at me and says, "Hey, Mom! Ask me, 'So, Big, how are your Cheetos?'" Apparently he was feeling left out of the mealtime conversation. Sorry, Big!
Oh, and in case you're wondering, his Cheetos are good.
Then I stumbled across this doodle of Ginger's.
Bud thinks that it's a Martian in a dress. That's why abstract art is so great. It can be interpreted in so many different ways! Yup. Just because I only see one thing doesn't mean that someone else can't see something completely different!
Big is really into role playing these days. He pretends to be Grizzly Ted the school bus driver from The Berenstain Bears while he drives me around in our love seat. He pretends to be Cousin Freddie when he plays catch and Brother Bear when he plays baseball. (Can you guess what his favorite show is?) But, his favorite role to play is that of his daddy. He becomes Daddy and Rophone becomes Big.
The thing that is amazing about when Big does his role playing is his ability to stay in character-- for hours on end sometimes. He gets so frustrated with my inability to remember to call him by the proper name. He just continues to remind me, and I try to get it right.
Today at lunch, Big (playing the role of Daddy) volunteered to say the prayer. It went something like this--
"....We're grateful for this day. Please bless that Daddy will drive home safely..."
(Then, as an aside to himself)-- "Oh, wait, that's me!"
"...Please bless that I will drive home safely..."
Praying that Rophone will drive home safely is something that Big always does, even if Rophone is with us as he was today. It's just hilarious that he stayed in character even while he prayed!
No one ever said he was a normal 2-year-old, most certainly not me. Man, I love that kid!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Sing It!
I have complained in the past of feeling like I am parroting my mother when it comes to parenting my children. I have begun to change my mind about that as of late. Now that I am living in my folks' house, I no longer feel like I am parroting her-- I am channeling her!!! I swear that I am becoming my mother in her absence.
It's not that I don't love her, mind you. I would just rather be myself. My own person. And maybe, just maybe, the characteristics and sayings I find myself mirroring are the ones that drove me a tad crazy in my youth. To hear myself saying the same phrases and doing those same things.... Ack! Talk about a shock to the system!
One of the things that I found slightly embarrassing and annoying as a youth was my mom's penchant for breaking into song. It's all about keyword triggers, you see. Mention the state of Oklahoma in a sentence? Be ready to hear the theme song from "Oklahoma!". Mention the word "sugar" as you bake cookies together? All of the sudden you're baking with Mary Poppins! (At least she has a good singing voice! My mom, I mean. Well, and Mary does too, of course.)
I, too, break into song on occasion because of a keyword trigger. I have siblings who do it. And now, I have children who do it. Were we born to do it? Or have we been conditioned to do so? Nature or Nurture? Maybe it's not my mom's fault! Maybe it's in the genes!
The other day, Rophone and I were talking about how different his body looks since his abdomen has been "cleaned out", as it were-- both because of antibiotics and the preparations for his colonoscopy.
As Rophone probed his belly, he remarked on how much less firm it is. The second the word "firm" was out of his mouth, Bud piped up in his clear, beautiful voice with "How Firm a Foundation..."-- a hymn from church! Thus pairing talk of constipation and clean colons with spiritual song!
It was then that I decided it surely can't be helped.
P.S. I love you, Mom! ; )
It's not that I don't love her, mind you. I would just rather be myself. My own person. And maybe, just maybe, the characteristics and sayings I find myself mirroring are the ones that drove me a tad crazy in my youth. To hear myself saying the same phrases and doing those same things.... Ack! Talk about a shock to the system!
One of the things that I found slightly embarrassing and annoying as a youth was my mom's penchant for breaking into song. It's all about keyword triggers, you see. Mention the state of Oklahoma in a sentence? Be ready to hear the theme song from "Oklahoma!". Mention the word "sugar" as you bake cookies together? All of the sudden you're baking with Mary Poppins! (At least she has a good singing voice! My mom, I mean. Well, and Mary does too, of course.)
I, too, break into song on occasion because of a keyword trigger. I have siblings who do it. And now, I have children who do it. Were we born to do it? Or have we been conditioned to do so? Nature or Nurture? Maybe it's not my mom's fault! Maybe it's in the genes!
The other day, Rophone and I were talking about how different his body looks since his abdomen has been "cleaned out", as it were-- both because of antibiotics and the preparations for his colonoscopy.
As Rophone probed his belly, he remarked on how much less firm it is. The second the word "firm" was out of his mouth, Bud piped up in his clear, beautiful voice with "How Firm a Foundation..."-- a hymn from church! Thus pairing talk of constipation and clean colons with spiritual song!
It was then that I decided it surely can't be helped.
P.S. I love you, Mom! ; )
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Typical Work Day
This morning the boys were playing nicely in Bud's room as Rophone was getting ready for work. Big put on Bud's cowboy hat and I heard him say, "Well, I guess I'd better head to work." He headed out of the room and walked down the hall as Bud waved to him from the doorway like some dutiful wife and called out, "Have a great day in the Wild West!"
Monday, November 16, 2009
Just a Smattering
So, I thought I'd post just a smattering of the new photos I've taken as of late.
Okay, a big smattering. But I'm allowed. My arm hurts. Plus, I have a twitch in my butt that makes me afraid it's growing-- only on one side. So, no complaining.
Most of these I used for The Challenge, but there are a few strays that I didn't. You'll like them anyway.
Again, apologies to my friends on that other website, as you've seen all of these before. These are for the other people.
Buckle up! Here we go:
Take a deep breath. Go get a snack if you need one. But come back.
Okay, you're free to go about your business. You're welcome.
Okay, a big smattering. But I'm allowed. My arm hurts. Plus, I have a twitch in my butt that makes me afraid it's growing-- only on one side. So, no complaining.
Most of these I used for The Challenge, but there are a few strays that I didn't. You'll like them anyway.
Again, apologies to my friends on that other website, as you've seen all of these before. These are for the other people.
Buckle up! Here we go:
Take a deep breath. Go get a snack if you need one. But come back.
Okay, you're free to go about your business. You're welcome.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
The 12 Year Sick
Rophone is often sick. He hasn't really felt well for about the last 12 years-- sometimes worse than others. Believe it or not, although he's a typical male, he's even been to the doctor. Many times. But, they've never been able to tell him what is wrong.
Yep. Rophone hasn't felt well for the majority of our almost 15 year marriage. Not many people really knew-- I mean, a lot of the symptoms he suffers from aren't the kind you want to shout from the rooftops or have dinnertime conversation about. So, not knowing he's sick a lot, perhaps people may have made assumptions about him because of the length of our lawn, or the fact that I was out shoveling the snow instead of him.
Honestly, a lot of the past 12 years, especially the last few, have not been fun for Rophone. To put it simply-- they've sucked for him. And, by association, they've sucked a little for me too.
A few days before we celebrated Ulnar Nerve Un-Entrapment Day, Rophone started feeling less than stellar. I asked him if he wanted me to re-schedule my surgery, but he insisted I go ahead, saying he would be fine. Well, the first week he was fine. He was able to push through feeling gross and do my job pretty well. He was even keeping up with the laundry! The next week... well.....
The next week, it truly became evident that all was not well in Rophone-land. He became less and less able to do things, so I stepped in and took up the slack. (It's amazing how many things I could actually do one-handed, but I was even more amazed over the things that hadn't even occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to do-- like opening a stubborn ziploc, or pull the trash bag out of the can... frustrating!). By Friday, Rophone ended up in the hospital, truly miserable. He stayed there for the weekend.
People in the neighborhood knew I had surgery, but they also knew that Rophone was taking 2 weeks off to care for me and the kids. So, I'm sure they thought things were going swimmingly. We most certainly hadn't told them otherwise.
But, it's amazing what showing up to church with your arm in a sling and 4 kids in tow will do to cause people to throw themselves into action. It most certainly didn't hurt, either, that both the lesson in our women's meeting and one of the talks in the main meeting were on service and looking for opportunities to serve.
By the time the second message came around, and I'm sure word of our plight had gotten around, I could feel peoples' eyes boring into me. There I sat, struggling one-handed with an ornery two-year-old, husband absent, clearly the poster child for service opportunities. I had a target on my back. And a blinking neon sign over my head. And, quite likely, a panicked look in my eyes (it just so happens that my red-headed daughter's pre-teen hormones decided to come a ragin' that same weekend.... Woah!)
I really was doing fine. I told people. Really. I was managing. Rophone came home that night, and could at least reprimand the kids from the couch. We didn't really need help. I told people that a person can really do a lot one handed. You'd be amazed. It wasn't until I heard myself explaining to someone my plan to push the full laundry basket with my feet to the laundry room, where I would load and unload one-handed, and then kick the basket of clean laundry over to Rophone on the couch where he could fold it with his two hands, that I realized just how pitiful our situation sounded.
Okay. We'll take some dinners, thanks.
It was so nice at the end of the day, with my arm aching, not to have to worry about making a meal. Even once my sling and bandages disappeared earlier in the week, it was still nice. One less thing to have to manage. Thanks neighbors.
Oh, and you're probably wondering about Rophone. Well, the doctors he encountered at the hospital can't believe he's never been diagnosed. We're still waiting on the definitive results from this week's colonoscopy, but they are 99.9% sure he has Crohn's. He's got classic symptoms, I guess. Even a surgery he had 10 years ago was for a classic symptom of the disease. Who knows why no one ever put 2 and 22 together, but now we've got a diagnosis.
It's funny how people react. As though this is some new and shocking development in our lives. As though it will disrupt our existence and make things hard. What people forget, is that we've already been dealing with it for a loooong time. It has already been disruptive and difficult.
We are excited, actually. Optimistic for the future. Crohn's isn't curable, but it is treatable. Now that he's been diagnosed, Rophone has the chance to be better off than he has been in years.
We can't wait.
Yep. Rophone hasn't felt well for the majority of our almost 15 year marriage. Not many people really knew-- I mean, a lot of the symptoms he suffers from aren't the kind you want to shout from the rooftops or have dinnertime conversation about. So, not knowing he's sick a lot, perhaps people may have made assumptions about him because of the length of our lawn, or the fact that I was out shoveling the snow instead of him.
Honestly, a lot of the past 12 years, especially the last few, have not been fun for Rophone. To put it simply-- they've sucked for him. And, by association, they've sucked a little for me too.
A few days before we celebrated Ulnar Nerve Un-Entrapment Day, Rophone started feeling less than stellar. I asked him if he wanted me to re-schedule my surgery, but he insisted I go ahead, saying he would be fine. Well, the first week he was fine. He was able to push through feeling gross and do my job pretty well. He was even keeping up with the laundry! The next week... well.....
The next week, it truly became evident that all was not well in Rophone-land. He became less and less able to do things, so I stepped in and took up the slack. (It's amazing how many things I could actually do one-handed, but I was even more amazed over the things that hadn't even occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to do-- like opening a stubborn ziploc, or pull the trash bag out of the can... frustrating!). By Friday, Rophone ended up in the hospital, truly miserable. He stayed there for the weekend.
People in the neighborhood knew I had surgery, but they also knew that Rophone was taking 2 weeks off to care for me and the kids. So, I'm sure they thought things were going swimmingly. We most certainly hadn't told them otherwise.
But, it's amazing what showing up to church with your arm in a sling and 4 kids in tow will do to cause people to throw themselves into action. It most certainly didn't hurt, either, that both the lesson in our women's meeting and one of the talks in the main meeting were on service and looking for opportunities to serve.
By the time the second message came around, and I'm sure word of our plight had gotten around, I could feel peoples' eyes boring into me. There I sat, struggling one-handed with an ornery two-year-old, husband absent, clearly the poster child for service opportunities. I had a target on my back. And a blinking neon sign over my head. And, quite likely, a panicked look in my eyes (it just so happens that my red-headed daughter's pre-teen hormones decided to come a ragin' that same weekend.... Woah!)
I really was doing fine. I told people. Really. I was managing. Rophone came home that night, and could at least reprimand the kids from the couch. We didn't really need help. I told people that a person can really do a lot one handed. You'd be amazed. It wasn't until I heard myself explaining to someone my plan to push the full laundry basket with my feet to the laundry room, where I would load and unload one-handed, and then kick the basket of clean laundry over to Rophone on the couch where he could fold it with his two hands, that I realized just how pitiful our situation sounded.
Okay. We'll take some dinners, thanks.
It was so nice at the end of the day, with my arm aching, not to have to worry about making a meal. Even once my sling and bandages disappeared earlier in the week, it was still nice. One less thing to have to manage. Thanks neighbors.
Oh, and you're probably wondering about Rophone. Well, the doctors he encountered at the hospital can't believe he's never been diagnosed. We're still waiting on the definitive results from this week's colonoscopy, but they are 99.9% sure he has Crohn's. He's got classic symptoms, I guess. Even a surgery he had 10 years ago was for a classic symptom of the disease. Who knows why no one ever put 2 and 22 together, but now we've got a diagnosis.
It's funny how people react. As though this is some new and shocking development in our lives. As though it will disrupt our existence and make things hard. What people forget, is that we've already been dealing with it for a loooong time. It has already been disruptive and difficult.
We are excited, actually. Optimistic for the future. Crohn's isn't curable, but it is treatable. Now that he's been diagnosed, Rophone has the chance to be better off than he has been in years.
We can't wait.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Meal Ticket
The other day, Rophone and I took the boys outside to play some hoops and some baseball. Those of you who have been following my blog know that Big rocks at basketball. What you may not know is that Bud also rocks at baseball. The hitting part anyway. He regularly hits 7 of 10 balls we pitch to him.
As we were playing with the boys, I began to have visions of a future meal ticket in my head. The wheels were turning. Excitement was starting to mount. I said to Rophone--
"Just think... when the boys are older... Bud will be in the Majors... and Big will be starring in the NBA..."
Then Bud pipes in with--
"...And you'll be all alone..."
Hilarious. But true. And glorious. Think of all the time we'll have to travel around the country going to all their games!
As we were playing with the boys, I began to have visions of a future meal ticket in my head. The wheels were turning. Excitement was starting to mount. I said to Rophone--
"Just think... when the boys are older... Bud will be in the Majors... and Big will be starring in the NBA..."
Then Bud pipes in with--
"...And you'll be all alone..."
Hilarious. But true. And glorious. Think of all the time we'll have to travel around the country going to all their games!
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