Nine is Fine

Today is Dee's ninth birthday! My baby boy is nine years old! Time just keeps marching on...

I interrogated him about his "Favorites" this morning so I could record just what life is like for a nine year old boy these days.

Let's get his favorite of favorites out of the way first: FOOD. (This kid is a bottomless pit.)

Food: tamales, chocolate chip pancakes (every Saturday morning), Oreos, baked potatoes, hamburgers
Drink: cream soda
Place to eat: Tepenyaki, Wendy's (no more kids meals for this guy! He likes to order off the adult menu now. "Plain hamburger, fries, and root beer with lots of ketchup on the side"
Veggie: "COOKED carrots. NOT raw."
Fruit: Green apples
Candy: Airheads

On to other more "trivial" things...

Color: black and red
Toy: Skylanders, Legos
Thing to wear: pajamas (particularly Skylander jammies)
To do: play video games (currently obsessed with Skylander Swap Force)
Thing about school: "Nothing, I don't like school."
Movie: Turbo, Monsters University, Despicable Me 2
Person: "You, Mom!" but I think he would say Dad if I wasn't around. ;)
Place to go: Pocatello
Thing to do outside: "Shoot bows and arrows", ride bike
Thing to do with family: Go out to dinner
Holiday: birthday and Christmas
Song: "Weapon of Choice" by Fatboy Slim (only because it's the music for a Skylander commercial). We also have recently discovered that he harbors a secret love for anything by ABBA. (But really...who doesn't love ABBA??). He also likes music that has a lot of electric sounds in it (ie. Tron soundtrack)
Church song: "I am a Child of God"
Thing about the world: "That it invented TV."
TV show: Family Feud
Thing to sleep with: one regular pillow and two pillow pets all propped on top of each other. Coverings in THIS specific order: sheets, bed spread, army blanket, Mario blanket, Pooh Bear blanket (has to have the soft side UP and Pooh Bear head up), and to top it all off, an electric blanket on HIGH.
Thing about self: "That I have Skylanders. That I'm alive. That I have allergies."
Thing about being 8: "Playing with my friends."

Best friend: Gage G.
Other friends: Jack, Stephen, Xavier, Damien

What do you want to be when you grow up: A hunter or a salesman (of everything)
What would you do with a million dollars?: "Buy everything. Buy all the Skylanders. And if I have money left over...an iPad."
Where do you see yourself in 5 years?: "College"
Where do you see yourself in 10 years?: "A graveyard. Or Hawaii."
What about a mission or marriage?: "Never."

(Someone please tell me this kid's priorities will change before he's thirty and still playing Skylanders in our basement.)

This kid cracks me up. He really is so very good at heart. He has a very obsessive nature where he hyper focuses on one thing for a long time (Ahem...just like his mother). Right now that obsession revolves around Skylanders and where his next meal is coming from, but I hope that one day it will come in handy.

Dee has such a gentle heart and is very tender with his sisters. (Unless he is need of a good wrestling session and Dad's not available.) Dee has gotten very good at cleaning his room. He loves to help in the kitchen. Dee also loves playing team sports and is discovering a "like" for reading. He's usually up for trying new things and I love his adventurous spirit.

Dee asks me constantly if we can have tamales for dinner, but they take so darn long to make I always tell him no. I just couldn't turn him down on his special day so ALL DAY Saturday was spent making 100 plus tamales. We had tamales for his birthday dinner on Sunday and now we have several packages frozen to be enjoyed throughout the next several months. A win for all of us!

For his birthday cake he asked if I could make the "Undead" Skylander symbol. I gave it my best shot; this was my first time making and using fondant. We'll call this decent.

Since Dee is allergic to milk and I was all out of his special "butter" I used coconut oil to make the frosting for the first time. My mixer is not working so well so there were lots of little chunks of coconut oil in the frosting. Oh well. It sure smelled amazing.

He sure seemed pleased so that's all that really matters.

I forgot to buy candles too, but I think the matches go well with the "Undead" thing we have going on here.


Now if only Amazon would deliver his gifts that I ordered a couple of weeks ago...

Nine is fine. Hopefully ten will be even better! Happy Birthday Dee! We sure love you!!

If I sent Christmas cards, you'd totally be on my list!

With a young, growing family we're always looking for ways to simplify and keep costs down, whether it's Christmas Day or just another ordinary weekday. Unfortunately, Christmas cards are one of those "expendable" expenses. And quite frankly, this bums me out! 

I LOVE Christmas cards. Every year I look forward to seeing pictures of family and friends and pouring over the details of their lives if they are doubly ambitious and including a letter. (I guess I'm kind of nosy like that.) In return, I want to share my own life. (I know I'm an oversharer like that.) Never mind that we do this daily through social media. Isn't it fun seeing it all summed up and packaged up in pretty paper and beautiful photos?

So to all those who were thoughtful enough to include us on their mailing list this year: thank you! It means a lot to me. (And Clayton too though he probably wouldn't gush about it like I do.) And in response, may I send out a virtual Christmas card/end of the year summary to you in the form of a blog post? Tacky? Probably. But tacky with all the best wishes stuck to it.

While every year seems bigger and crazier than the preceding, 2013 really was a rather monumental year for us. After ten years of marriage, our little family is moving on to the next exciting and busy (in a different way) stage of life. We're trading in diapers, strollers, and baby blessings for pierced ears, family hikes, and baptisms.

While we're not trying to rush the youngest member of the family, Lucy (2), we are pretty thrilled to see her developing and changing from a baby to a big girl. It's so bittersweet knowing she is the last little one, but we are relishing each moment and every milestone. This year she graduated from diapers, cribs, sippy cups, and strollers. Now she loves to be the mommy and diapers, feeds, and swaddles anything that will hold still long enough for her to do so.

She will be turning three in January and wants so badly to join the big girls in school and dance. I imagine we'll blink and she'll be doing those things in no time. NO MORE BLINKING! Our "baby" still loves to cuddle as often as she can, sing lullabies at bedtime, and says "I love you!" more than any child I've ever met. Now if she could just learn how to stick with one outfit a day...

Lydia (5) graduated from preschool in May and headed to kindergarten in the fall. I was particularly nervous about sending my little blondie to the "big school", but there was no holding her back. She loves walking with Deacon and Eliza to school every morning. While she plays it pretty cool, she enjoys just about everything about school, even the homework!

It's been especially amazing to watch the non-physical changes in Lydia this year. She is getting braver and more confident in herself. We were so proud of her for dancing on stage this year at her Spring dance recital and December Nutcracker performance.  I marvel (sometimes with fear and surprise, but mostly with awe and amazement) at how this child looks at the world. She is unpredictable and spontaneous and hilarious and artistic. We continue to make progress with her gluten-free diet trying new foods and recipes and I'm thankful she goes along with it so willingly.

Eliza (7) finished 1st grade in a puddle of bittersweet tears, but met 2nd with an eager, happy grin. She loves music, art, helping, chocolate, lip gloss, and playing with cousins and friends. In fact she loves EVERYTHING...except cleaning her room. She embraces life with so much enthusiasm and emotion. It's simultaneously gratifying and terrifying to see your child developing into a mini-version of yourself.

Eliza has grown musically this year. She decided to give dance another go and performed in her dance studio's performance of The Nutcracker. She and I sang our first mommy/daughter duet in our ward talent show. She had zero fear and ate up the limelight while I was, literally, shaking in my boots. Since then we have been asked to sing together a couple of times. Eliza even sang her first public solo in our ward primary program. (We are treated to solos daily here at home.) She has a beautiful voice and it's so fun seeing her love of music in action. She also lost several teeth, got her ears pierced for her birthday, and had to get glasses (which she can never seem to remember to wear). It's fun watching her start these growing pain years and we already admire the beautiful girl she already is.

2013 was especially big for our oldest, Deacon. When he turned eight in January he had the opportunity to be baptized. We enjoyed sharing this very special event with our family and friends. Deacon was excited about joining scouts this year...until he realized it wasn't all camp outs and treats and vowed to not go back until it was. We've "convinced" him to return and he quickly earned his Bobcat badge and will be earning his Wolf in a few weeks (if his mother has anything to do with it).

This year he played soccer again and is also giving basketball a go. While he isn't exactly athletic or aggressive, he has a true love for team sports. He's just happy to be out there, running around with his buddies. And no bird poop on the shoulder or ball to the face (TWO bloody noses in one game!) is going to keep him away. At least not when there are treats at the end. While we question his obsession with Skylanders we see that our son is growing into a fantastic, responsible, little man. He has learned how to clean his room the first time mom asks, that reading is for fun and not just for homework, and that helping others makes him feel good inside. He's just a good kid through and through and we sure appreciate and love him.

While Clayton would prefer I not even mention him in this letter, we would never be complete without him. "Incomplete" is how we often feel since he continues to travel often for work. He has been with Komatsu Equipment Company as an instructor for three years. While he doesn't seem to get to go anywhere too exciting (mostly tiny mining towns in Nevada and other sites in Arizona, Wyoming, Georgia, and Michigan), he continues to impress his coworkers with his knowledge of power generation and electric trucks. He even had the opportunity to help in some training classes with Spanish translation for some Peruvian classmates.

He's actually had the opportunity to use his Spanish a lot this year as we have gained a new Chilean sister-in-law (my brother Colin married Massiel in June this year). He used it again when we traveled to the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico where he served his mission to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. With all that work traveling Clayton has done he was able to accrue enough air and hotel points to cover our trip!

Our little "honeymoon" was incredible! We visited several ancient Mayan ruins, sweated our brains out, drove all over the peninsula, swam in both the Gulf of Mexico and the Carribean Sea, missed our kids too much, went snorkeling for the first time, ate lots of local food, drank lots of Mexican Coke, unsuccessfully tried to avoid the pushy peddlers, and reunited with several wonderful people he had known on the mission. It was an amazing experience that helped us to appreciate even more all the little and big things we are blessed with. And what a way to celebrate ten years of wedded bliss!

Returning to his mission has been a dream of Clayton's for years. Actually we've seen several of our dreams come true this year. When our minivan's slow decline began to look fatal, we had to go shopping for a new family vehicle. Now Clayton finally has that pickup truck he has been fantasizing about for who knows how long. We're still a one-car family, but now we have somewhere to load all these kids and their stuff and four-wheel drive to get us there.

Singing in a "real" performance with my children has always been a dream of mine. I'm grateful Eliza was up for it. Running with my kids was another. This fall, Deacon and Eliza joined me for their very first 5K race! We had a blast running through the Color Me Rad course and the kids were still smiling by the end. I was very proud of both of them!

Seeing my children and their talents, personalities, and senses of responsibility growing is a dream come true too. I find myself almost daily saying aloud how awesome it is to be starting this stage of life. It was really hard to let that baby stage go, but it's a huge relief as well. It's liberating to have everyone walking, talking, dressing, pottying, and feeding themselves. While they may not do it well sometimes I'm just happy we're making progress. The future is looking pretty bright!

I've made a bit of progress this year too. Lo and behold, I've actually stuck with this little running hobby of mine. This year I celebrated my 32nd birthday by running from my doorstep to my sister Erin's doorstep, a total of 24 miles. A friend joined me for the second half and we were met with a banner and balloons at the "finish line" of Erin's driveway. A month later I completed my first full marathon, a harrowing experience as I had been so ill the week of and the freezing spring rain poured through the entire race. By the time I reached the finish line it was with incredible pride, pain, and relief that it was over. I vowed to never do that again. Unfortunately I had already registered and paid for two more races. So in August I ran a second (terrible, terrible) marathon and in October a third (slower, but so much more pleasant!) marathon, making three full marathons in five months' time. I've since sworn off full marathons, but am already signed up for my first triathlon, my first Ragnar relay race, and a half marathon next year. Stupid or ambitious, even I'm not sure some days.

As painful and lonely as long distance running is, it doesn't really compare to having to be a "single married" all the time. In fact I run to deal with being "on duty" all the time. It's gotten a lot easier to have Clayton gone so much, but we sure do miss him when he is. I continue to serve in the primary presidency in our ward and Clayton is the assistant pack leader. And when we're together we try to squeeze in a few family adventures whether it be going for mountain drives and hikes or trying new recipes in the kitchen. This year we made some traditional Yucatacan food, homemade corn dogs, canned applesauce, and homemade vanilla.

Right now our life is homework, Tooth Fairy visits, Saturday ball games, being lucky to get through only ten verses of scripture a night, coloring books, hanging up coats for the hundredth time, hotel rooms, phone calls goodnight, sticky fingers, and animated movies. But we love it. It's funny how one second it feels like everything is broken and a mess when the next second I find myself thinking "Life is good" and meaning it.

Life IS good. And we appreciate the friends and family that help make it that way. Along with our Heavenly Father and Savior who bless us more than we deserve. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours from us! Much love and well wishes!

Vlog Vednesday #4: Interview with an 8 Year Old

Cee put herself down for a nap.
Elle is gone to preschool.
The house is clean.
The laundry and dishes are done.
The treadmill's not working out today.
And Dee's home from school with pink eye.

Mwahahaha! Fresh meat for the Vednesday Vlog!



If you can't embarrass your kids, at least a little bit, really, what good are you as a parent?

Tuesdays with Evie

...and Dee, Jeigh, Elle, and Cee of course.

Oh, and Joe! He's home and balance has once again been restored to the universe.

Pink eye has claimed its third victim, but somehow it doesn't seem as tragic now that Joe is back. Everything's better when Daddy is home. Dee will be staying home from school tomorrow so as not to spread The Pink Plague; something he is not incredibly broken up about.

It is Tuesday, which means it's "Clean the Toy Room Tuesday", which means I was cleaning up toys and other random things --as it so happens in the toy room-- as Cee watched. Eventually she got tired of watching and fell asleep like this...

 

And like the good parent I am...I left her there to go find the camera and capture the moment before I scooped her up and put her in bed. Because moments like these are what makes parenthood so worth it.

Moments like those and moments like when I skipped out on the workout I had planned to sit down with my four year old in her little kitchen and chat with her about recipes, chocolate, her unstable relationship with peanut butter, tigers, her friends at school, the difference between "friends" and "cousins", and how my hair is going "blond". I can't even remember the last time we had such a good talk. She positively glowed with the individual attention she was getting from Mommy. Note to self: Those chats really must happen more often.

Don't worry! I didn't skip that workout completely. After our chat, Elle took it upon herself to pick the workout of the day and we did Zumba together. Well, we did Zumba together for about 5 minutes. Then she just sat on the fireplace step, watching and intermittently yelling, "FASTER, MAMA!", "WHY ARE YOU SO SWEATY?", and "WE'RE GOING TO HAVE LUNCH SOON, RIGHT?"

Four year olds are hilarious. Like when they come running to tell you that the baby is drawing on herself again.

Is that a stick figure the two year old has drawn upon her own back?

In other news, Cee suddenly doesn't like Muddy Buddies. I think she may have been switched at birth.

I can't watch "Lost" while I fold laundry. Too many subtitles. And too many kids walking in on too many scary parts.

The two older kids figured out how to do flips on the trampoline tonight.

Today, I voluntarily offered to run a half marathon race on Saturday. That's in--ahem--four days.

My poor little four year old niece just found out she has Type I Diabetes AND Celiac disease. My heart is breaking for her, but I'm feeling grateful that maybe Elle and I can help her a little bit.

One of my videos on YouTube is going "viral"-ish and it's kind of freaking me out that people are making comments on it, "thumbs-upping" it, and subscribing to my YouTube account.

And I found this lurking in the kitchen sink disposal...

Just another Tuesday at our house.

Great Americans?

For the last couple of months, my second grade son, Dee, has been working on a Great American project. His teacher presented him with a list of Great Americans and he chose Christopher Columbus. While not a true American, Columbus did "discover" the Americas, becoming a key figure in American history. Dee has been reading books, building a time-line, writing a paper, and constructing a visual presentation all about Columbus for his project.

Today we had the chance to go to the school to see all of the second graders present their Great Americans. The mayor was invited along with several present day Great Americans: local firefighters, policemen, and military. The second graders had set up rows of desks in the gym, placing each part of their project on their desk and sitting in a chair next to it, ready to answer questions about their Great American. The program ended with the children singing a couple of patriotic songs. (Servicemen and women in uniform with little voices singing patriotic songs? Of course I cried. Like the red-blooded American mommy I am.)

The children were given the option to dress like their Great American or at least dress nicely. I had no idea how to make a Christopher Columbus costume and I couldn't bear to spend $30 on a costume that would be used once, so Dee dressed in his Sunday suit. He looked handsome and knew his stuff about good ol' Christopher Columbus. (Stuff I've been learning too as I've been helping him with this project. By the way, Columbus was "great" for "discovering" the Americas, but also wasn't so great in that he couldn't admit that he messed up and these new islands were not the Indies. Not to mention, he was rather nasty to his crew and the natives. At one point he was even arrested and brought back to Spain for being such a jerk. Hmm.)

As we walked around the rows of desks today, we saw lots of cute little Amelia Earharts, Abraham Lincolns, Thomas Edisons, and Eleanor Roosevelts. There was even a darling little Laura Ingalls Wilder (a personal favorite). 

But imagine my surprise when we happened upon not one, but several Katy Perrys.

HUH?!

  

I'm all for making education fun and relevant, but since when is a cupcake-bra wearing chick like Katy Perry categorized with the likes of Sacajawea, Rosa Parks, and George Washington?! What has she contributed to our country? Besides a lot of trashy, provocative music and costumes that is. When did voicing a Smurf cartoon equate to dying as a martyr?

Unfortunately my little girls wouldn't hold still long enough to let me read the Katy Perry presentation or ask the Mini-Katys just what on earth made them "great" Americans. It was probably for the best because I probably couldn't have held back my laughter/disgust and would have tromped on some poor, little misguided second grader's self-esteem. A self-esteem that might be even more fragile since they are looking to the likes of Katy Perry as role models.

Pardon my geriatric rage but....WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO?!?

P.S. At least Lady GaGa wasn't there. *whew*

Bald is Beautiful?

They say "Bald is beautiful!" And the menfolk in my house whole-heartedly agree. My husband does not shed tears over a rapidly receding hairline. In fact, he embraces it. He cuts his own hair short short short and is looking forward to the day when it's all gone. Which, honestly, isn't too far off.

But the man is 31 years old. It's the time and season. While I don't care for his military length, I admire his positive outlook on what most of the world bemoans as a curse.

I just wish he would stop sharing his "bald is beautiful" mantra with our eight year old son. Bald is NOT beautiful when you are eight.

Dee has been begging and begging to go bald for a few months. At first I flat out refused. But he still pleaded. So I resorted to bargaining. If he would at least wait until after his baptism, then I would shave his head. I had hoped with time he would forget his "cue-ball quest", but it only seemed to intensify the burning desire within.

He was pretty excited about his baptism date, but I think 37.2% of that excitement could be contributed to it being the preliminary event to Mission: Hair Be Gone. Even the morning of his baptism he asked if we could cut his hair as soon as we got home from the church. Luckily, a luncheon and a household full of people was a fairly valid excuse even for an eight year old boy with passionate pursuits. The chaos of that and a Superbowl party and the oncoming week of school stalled him for another week, but today he walked in the door from school. With hardly a breath he asked yet again, "Can I go bald now?!"

With resignation, I got my clippers out and began to remove his handsome head of hair. I even used my own pink razor and shaving cream to take every last stray follicle from his sweet little head. Throughout the entire process he cackled and screeched with delight. "No one's going to recognize me! They are going to be SO surprised! This. is. so. AWESOME!"

Seeing how happy it made him, I couldn't help but get into the spirit of things. He may have a (now painfully obvious) odd-shaped head, but with that huge happy grin on his face...bald IS beautiful. It's fun to have a change every once in awhile. Hair grows back. No harm done.

Unfortunately, his sisters don't see it the same way...

Dee's Baptism

On February 2, 2013, our oldest child and only son was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I can't deny that we, as his parents, probably had a profound effect on this event taking place, but it truly was his decision to do so. For several months we have been talking with our children, particularly Dee, about why and how we are baptized. We asked him if he wanted to be baptized, making it clear that we were not forcing him to do it, and he responded with a resounding "Yes!"...as long as Daddy wouldn't let him drown. :)

I am so proud of Dee for making this choice. By being baptized he has followed the example of the Savior, he has proven his willingness to try to choose the right, and he has become a member of the LDS church, the church we believe to be the true church of Jesus Christ. My hope is that this is the first of many choices he will make in his life that will bring him closer to Heavenly Father and happiness in this life and the next.





 

Saturday was such a great day! Lots of our family came to support Dee and our family. The baptism was held at our stake center. Brother Sessions from our ward's bishopric conducted. Dee's sister, Jeigh, proudly led the music, beginning with an opening song of "I am a Child of God". Grandpa R. gave the opening prayer.

Grandpa P. gave a talk on baptism, wherein he shared the experience of his own baptism which was done in his local high school swimming pool. Another kid that was being baptized that day had to be rescued from the deep end. He reminded Dee to find something memorable that would mark this day in his mind.

Grandma R. gave a talk on the Holy Ghost. She had many objects to help Dee know how to recognize the Spirit, one of them being his favorite fuzzy blanket that was given to him as a brand new baby. Dee listened attentively to the talks. I'm not sure if he was nervous or excited or probably both. He slightly bounced in his chair with a huge grin on his face through the entire meeting.

After the talks, Aunt Erin and I sang a special musical number, "Baptism". It has been a long time since I've had the chance to sing with my sister; we used to do it all the time. It was my way of sharing in and contributing to Dee's big day.

After the musical number, Dee and his dad stepped into the font and Dee was baptized by immersion with both of his grandfathers acting as witnesses. All the little cousins and children who had come to the baptism sat near the glass surrounding the font to watch. Jeigh started cackling as Dee was submerged in the water and that set several of the children off. However irreverent, they were just voicing the excitement and energy that could be felt in the room.

While Dee and Joe changed into dry clothes, the primary president, Sister Garside, passed out papers for people to write notes of congratulation, advice, or love for Dee. When they reappeared, dried and dressed, the confirmation took place. Nine men (Joe, Grandpa R., Grandpa P., Uncle Kip, Uncle Colin, Cousin Brandon, Paula (friend), Bishop Phillips, and Brother Sessions) who hold the power of the priesthood placed their hands on Dee's head and gave him the gift of the Holy Ghost. My husband, Joe, is a humble man who gives powerful blessings. I'm always amazed at the words that come from his mouth when he is acting as the mouthpiece of God. I know they are not his own. Among many other things, he blessed Dee to do well in school, to serve as a full-time missionary someday, and reminded him how much his earthly and heavenly parents love him. Dee gave awkward, yet happy handshakes and hugs to all the men in the circle after the confirmation.



Dee and his sweet Primary teacher, Sister Spears



Brother Sessions turned some time over to Bishop Phillips and then closed the meeting. The closing song, "I'm Trying to be Like Jesus" was led again by Jeigh and the closing prayer was given by Dee's five year old cousin, Kashus. We were slightly nervous when Dee wanted to ask Kash to give the closing prayer. Kash's prayers are often...creative...and always long. This one wasn't any different, but it was a great prayer. It was obvious that Kash had been listening closely to the baptism and confirmation when he repeatedly asked that things be blessed "by the holy authority". At one point, even he got tired during his long prayer and yawned a big, loud yawn. That was the point that Dee and I lost it. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to stop from giggling out loud. It was a memorable prayer from one fantastic kid!

Once the meeting was over we made our way to our home where we served a luncheon. Dee had requested Chicken Noodle and Minestrone Soup. Aunt Erin made a Cheese Broccoli Soup for those who CAN have milk. With about 45 people, the house was full to the brim with family and friends. Just the way we like it!

This boy is blessed to have such great friends and family in his life. He is so loved! What a special day!







Grandpa and Grandma P.

  


Grandpa and Grandma R. (and cousin London)

 


Three generations

  


These girls sure are lucky to have such a great older brother!



 





Of Bread and Baptism

Dee had his baptism interview with the bishop about a month ago. I was sick that day and had to miss it, but it was reported to me that the bishop had asked Dee to go home and "help his mom". He had scarfed all the bread I had made the day before so I told him he could help me make more. We chatted as we kneaded and I caught some of it on camera. Just when you think they aren't listening...

(Note: I do realize that Jesus was NOT the first to be baptized. In my head I was thinking, He was the "first" as in, He was setting the example for us to follow.)

(Other Note: I sure love this kid!)

Speaking of Cleaning: Men vs Women

Speaking of cleaning...

A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I sat at the dinner table with my sister and her husband who were visiting for Cee's birthday party. As we made future plans, I suddenly realized with horror that Joe's upcoming work travels would take him away for two weeks, right up until the day before Dee's baptism.

"Oh my gosh! I'm going to have so much to do, especially with you gone!", I lamented.

"What's the big deal? It's not like there's hardly anything to do. We just show up at the church, dunk the kid, and eat," was Joe's (serious) response.

"Big deal"?! "Not anything to do"?!?! ARE YOU JOKING?!

I was gratified to look across the table and see the same slack-jawed, gaped-mouth face of dismay and disbelief that was planted on my own face, reflected in my sister's face.

But she's a woman. She gets it.

My husband? He's a man. He obviously does NOT "get it".

Let's see...

There's the spiritual preparations, like having some important heart-to-hearts with Dee to make sure he understands what he's agreeing to in making the choice to be baptized. Etc.

There's the actual baptism to plan. Who's going to say the prayer? Lead the music? Give the talks? Etc, etc.

There's the luncheon after the baptism to plan. How many are we feeding? What are we eating? Now how does that fit in the budget? When can I go shopping with minimal children? Do I need to make alternatives for my food issue kids? How am I going to time everything so that all the food is done at once, but I'm not standing in the kitchen all day? Etc, etc, etc.

And the house. It needs to be cleaned. The basics like vacuuming and bathrooms. But then there are fingerprints all over walls and food smears on chairs. "Booby trapped" cupboards might be opened by unsuspecting victims. I still haven't put back all my decor since taking down Christmas stuff. The laundry cannot be allowed to linger. And what is that rotten smell in the kitchen? Etc, etc, etc, etc, etc.

Are we having any overnight guests? Did we remember to invite Grandma? What's the weather going to be like for out of state travelers? Is Dee's suit clean? Does he actually have any (still) white underwear? etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, ETC!

And this is all on top of the regular day to day stuff! AND ALL TO BE COMPLETED IN MARRIED SINGLEHOOD SINCE THE REALLY HELPFUL MAN OF THE HOUSE WILL BE OUT OF TOWN FOR THE TWO WEEKS PRIOR!!

A mom's head could explode.

But a dad's...?

Well, he's just there to "dunk the kid".

He would be perfectly happy if we ate chicken nuggets while sitting on the (maybe vacuumed?) floor.

Sure, he may have the priesthood power, but I've got the power of perception and paranoia.

He will help Dee "wash away his sins". And I'll wash everything else.

I'm not complaining. (Well, maybe a little...) I'm definitely not getting all feminist-frenzied. (Oh good gravy! PLEASE let's not go there.) Nor am I belittling my efforts or burdens as a woman. And I'm not trying to disparage all the hard work my husband does to support and nurture our little family.

This is how it works--and by "works" I mean WORKS...mutually, collaboratively, harmoniously. We all play our parts and "with our powers combined" it will be a great day!

Of Separation Anxiety

We just finished up a very lovely Spring Break week. I pulled out all my best "fun mommy" tricks. We went to the park, to the zoo, to the grandparents, to the kids' favorite restaurant. We watched movies and ate bowls of popcorn. We played and read books and stayed up late and slept in and traveled and ate junk food and played some more. It was a glorious week, but it had to end sometime.

I was dreading Monday with its return to schedule and school more than my kids were.

Well, maybe not more than the kids.

Monday morning, as I pulled up in front of the school to drop Dee and Jeigh off, it was revealed to me just how much my son wasn't ready for the new week to start. Both the kids had complained of phantom stomach aches during the morning's preparation hoping to delay the end of Spring Break just a little longer, but Jeigh spotted her friends near the school and happily hopped out of the van to greet them along with the new week.

In contrast, Dee shriveled even farther into the back of the van. He whined, "I don't wanna go, Mama. I don't wanna!"

And then he began to cry.

He sobbed as he told me he didn't have any friends. That he was scared. That kids teased him.

His tears thickened as he begged to go back home.

It was terrible. What was I to do? I remember grade school. Kids do tease. It is scary. There were times I felt like I didn't have a friend in the entire place.

I wanted to shut the van door and glide off into the sunset, sheltering him from the big bad school and world. It was what I wanted to do, but that didn't seem right. If I let him go home today what was going to happen tomorrow? And the day after that??

I knew this was something my little son had to do. But try telling him that.

As I did try his crying only increased. He refused to get out of the van. I got out and walked around, afraid that I would have to physically remove him from the vehicle. Afraid of being manhandled he jumped out himself, but then stood on the sidewalk with huge, slushy, wet tears rolling off his red cheeks.

This was tragic. There couldn't be anything harder to parenting than this, could there?

I tried to lovingly talk to him and convince him that he needed to be in school, that it was the law, that it would be okay, that he could call me if it wasn't. But love and logic and talk were not cutting it.

Eventually I had to get tough. Woodenly, I pried his clinging arms off of my legs, firmly told him to go to his class, and walked away. He cried out after me but I kept walking. I got in the van and drove out of the school parking lot. As I watched him from my rear view mirror, standing there, falling apart on the public school sidewalk, I felt my heart shattering.

Did I just do the right thing? This can't be right. If it was "right", would it hurt this much?

I had abandoned my little son to the world and to himself. I am his Mommy. I am his protector. His big person. His guardian. And I just left him.

What have I done?

I circled around and parked in front of the school where he couldn't see me, but I could watch him. He stood by his line, but hiding behind a tree around the corner from his classroom door. He was still crying, intermittently peeking to see what his class line was doing. I imagined him pondering what to do, whether to obey his mom and follow his peers to class, or to make a break for it.

I admit, I sat in the van, watching him, pondering myself. Do I let him be a big boy and learn a life lesson or do I sweep in and rescue him?

He made the decision for both of us as he followed his class into the building, but I drove away reeling from the entire plight.

Nothing felt "right".

The entire morning I fretted about him. Was he crying in class? Were the kids really being mean to him? Was my happy little son as friendless as he claimed to be? Or was this just a case of too much fun during Spring Break and the difficulty of his dad leaving town again?

It was so difficult to know. And I thought labor and delivery was the hard part of parenting. Nobody warned me about how insanely grievous it would be to drive away from your distraught first grader.

In an effort to make his day a little brighter and more positive, as well as to allay my own worries by seeing how he was faring, I picked up some McDonald's Happy Meals (one of his favorite treats) and surprised him at lunch time. He ran to me with a huge smile and an even bigger hug.

For all his tears, for all my heart break...he was perfectly fine.

He was so fine that he could hardly acknowledge my presence in the lunchroom as he happily chatted with his buddies (no friends, huh?). After about 5 or 10 minutes he asked if he could go to recess, leaving behind half of a Happy Meal and a mother who was wondering if she had wasted the energy, money, and gray hair on him.

But then I saw a grandmother who had the same idea I had. She munched quietly on her McDonald's while her granddaughter jabbered at her friends.

Oh. So my son is normal then? Oh good.

One day I want to speak with him about this day. I want him to understand how traumatic it was to see my little son so sick with worry and fear. How agonizing it was to do something so opposite and repulsive to my motherhood as physically pry his arms off of me. How it took all my might not to cry my own tears as I denied my own desires and abandoned him there.

I want to ask his forgiveness for walking away in his apparent moment of need, but I also want him to know that I did it hoping to make him a stronger man. I can only imagine that this experience is a small stepping stone to other moments that will be like it. Maybe even more grievous and grey than this "trivial" one. In hindsight it is rather trivial, even though it felt so monstrous yesterday morning. But as I replay the image of my small son standing on the sidewalk all alone in my rear view mirror, I can't imagine anything being as difficult in this life as being a parent.

Putting on Airs at the In-Laws

If there is one thing I know how to do well, it is to embarrass myself.

I've had a lifetime of practice and I'm a pro. In fact I've gotten so good at saying and doing dumb things that my mouth is practically foot-shaped. (Get it? Open mouth. Insert foot.)

To give you a recent example...

This last weekend we had the opportunity to spend sometime in Hometown, Idaho with our families. I have a great in-law family that I really do enjoy and feel comfortable being with. Nonetheless, I would still like to make somewhat of a good impression to remind them why their son/grandson/brother/nephew/cousin picked me as his blushing bride.

The morning before we drove out to the family lunch and Easter egg hunt, I spent a fair amount of time picking out a flattering outfit and doing my hair and makeup just so. I left my parents house, where we had stayed the night, feeling confident about my appearance. Woo! I still got it!

And then I snuck a peek in the vanity mirror in our minivan.

AGH!!!

Bright purple and unmistakable, there it lurked, begging for any passerby's visual attention... A hickey.

And not just any hickey.

My very first hickey. Ever.

You know, besides the ones you would give yourself when you sucked on your own arm in 3rd grade class out of boredom and curiosity. (Oh, you didn't do that? Well...Umm...)

This was my very first neck hickey.

And this one didn't even come with some amazing amorous affair.

My husband and I were just messing around the night before--STOP! Not THAT kind of messing around. Just teasing each other about something. He wrestled me down and latched on to my neck for .0013 seconds. There he left The Mark of Shame, flashing brighter than any Scarlett Letter.

No makeup, no ice, no nothing was going to cover that thing up.

Oh well, at least my hair--that is looking goooood--will maybe cover it up. My good impression isn't shot...yet.

And then I spilled an entire water bottle. In the worst place one can spill an entire water bottle.

With burning cheeks, a bright purple hickey on my neck, and looking like I had just peed my pants (not "Oops! I giggled too hard!" peed my pants, but "Woah! Buy me some Depends!" peed my pants) I prepared to greet my husband's entire family. Grandma and Grandpa, all the aunts, a few uncles, cousins, everybody.

Sweet.

As you can see, with my amazing sense of fortune and poor timing, I don't need any help in the mortification department. But that afternoon my seven year old son felt free to offer his services anyway.

Later in the day, he and I made a trip out to our van to get him some Benadryl for an accidental milk exposure he had experienced. While we were out there, I felt free to...ahem..."air out". A couple of times.

My son was walking away as I did, but turned quickly when he heard me. He giggled wildly and asked if I had indeed farted.

I confessed, thinking it would be our little secret. Moms fart too. What's the big deal?

He walked back to the house through the back entrance, cackling. I walked back through the front entrance. As I entered the kitchen where my husband's entire family was gathered, they were laughing uproariously about something. They turned to see me and the laughter escalated to another level. Joe's cousin couldn't even talk because he was doubled over, laughing so hard, and pointing...At me.

What I had failed to remember is, to a seven year old boy, farting in and of itself is a mighty big deal and worthy of proper and loud group announcements.

Hickey on neck.
Pees pants.
Farts.

Guilty as charged. And making the kind of impressions the family will be talking about for years.

Hooray.

Boy Joy Toy Tuesday

(Moses 8:20) And it came to pass that Noah called upon the children of men that they should repent; but they hearkened not unto his words... Well, all except Mario.

"Ok Noah! Let's a-GO!"

Dee tells me wearing his hat AND ear warmer like this makes him look "super cool"...

Who am I to stand in the way of "coolness"?

Yesterday morning Dee and I had a little disagreement about having seconds at breakfast. He felt he should have second helpings. I'm all for putting second helpings in hungry boys' tummies. Just not when we are already late for school. I lectured him that if he wanted time to eat second helpings he should have been up earlier and fully dressed for school sooner. I expected it to go in one ear and out the other.

This morning at 5:41 am, I was woken from a dead sleep by someone--someone wearing tennis shoes--running across the house. As my brain struggled to sift through the haze of sleep I tried to decide if I should load the gun under my bed and go investigate or just roll over and go back to sleep. I opted for investigating, minus the loaded gun.

There was Dee. Wide awake. Fully dressed. Wandering around the house. And asking for breakfast.

"Dee, why are you up so early?"

"I'm just so hungry Mama. I wanted to make sure I had lots of time to fill my tummy."

Break my heart, why don't ya?

I almost wanted to make him a big, hearty pancake and egg breakfast right then and there...

Nah.

It's 5:41 am. Here's a box of gluten free cereal. Here's a carton of soy milk. Knock yourself out, kid. I'm going back to bed.

After breakfast he had a "little" time on his hands...

There's just something about a boy and his big box of little cars that makes me smile.

I sure love this happy, sweet, obedient, hungry, wonderful kid!

How to Make Super Mario Piranha Plant Centerpieces

As I promised in my post about the Super Mario birthday party I recently put together for my son, here is a tutorial for how to make Super Mario Piranha Plant centerpieces. Let me preface this with saying that this was not an original idea. I saw LOTS of other bloggers out there making Super Mario piranha plant centerpieces. But sadly the amount of tutorials were lacking.

While most crafters out there might be able to just look at a picture and magically know how to whip something together...I am not one of those. So for all my craft-challenged friends out there: HIGH FIVE! and here is my tutorial after I stumbled my way through making one...er three.

Again...Not necessarily the "right" way to do it, but at least the way I did it. And just between you and me, definitely the awesome way! No, really. I can't even tell you how pleased I am with how my little piranha plants turned out. I've been silly enough in the past to claim I'm not the crafty type, but after this little project I have to lay down my supposed shortcomings and admit it loud and proud: I. CAN. CRAFT!

Supplies needed (not all pictured below):

Styrofoam ball (I purchased the "smooth" one which I liked because it gave the piranha plant more of a smooth scaly look.)
Styrofoam block
empty salt container
bright red paint and paint brush
wooden dowel
green, white, and pink felt
bright green paper (12"x12" sheet)
black paper (approximately 4"x4")
foam sheet
rocks
cotton balls
glue gun and plenty of glue sticks
scissors (a good pair that will cut through felt)
paper cutter
serrated knife

Use a serrated knife to cut a triangle chunk out of your Styrofoam ball. This will be the gaping open mouth.

Paint Styrofoam ball bright red including the inside of the missing chunk. Warning: Give yourself plenty of time for the paint to dry before you handle. Styrofoam takes a lot longer to dry than wood or paper.

Make sure salt container is empty. (Or any other container you choose. I imagine a tin can would work well too. I just liked how tall and narrow the salt container was like the Super Mario pipes. Plus the cardboard was really easy to glue green paper on to it.) Remove paper and use serrated knife to cut off top.

Cut 5"x12" strip of bright green paper. (Make sure to measure whatever container you are using and adjust measurements accordingly. You'll need a strip of paper that will cover your container completely.)

Use glue gun to adhere strip to salt container. Make sure the edges are even.



Cut a 4"x6" foam sheet in half, making two 2"x6" strips. Color doesn't really matter; it's going to be covered anyway. I got these ones at my local dollar store.

Hot glue foam strips around top edge of pipe. Cut end piece so it lays flush (flat) with the other piece. This is a possibly unnecessary step but I liked that it gave the pipe top some depth and dimension.

Then cut a 2"x12" green strip from the same paper you used on the whole pipe. Hot glue it over the top of the foam, again making sure your edges are straight and lined up.

Drop some rocks into the bottom of your pipe. This will prevent the piranha plant from becoming too top heavy.

Use your serrated knife again to cut the foam block to desired size. Since I was making three plants I cut it into three equal parts which worked perfectly. Warning: This green foam stuff STINKS! Like old wet fish food. Gross.

Cram the foam block down into your pipe. You may shave some of the edges off in the process, but that's okay. You want it to fit snugly so it keeps your rocks and dowel in place.

Turn your "pipe" over and use it to trace a circle on black paper and a second circle on green paper. Cut black circle out, punch a hole big enough for your dowel to go through the middle, and glue on to top of pipe.

Cut green circle out. Then cut another hole inside your circle essentially making a green ring. (Hint: Gently pinch (don't fold!) circle in half in middle, cut a small hole, hold circle flat, use hole to carefully cut bigger circle.) Glue green ring on to black circle. The pipe is done!

Now to work on the stem...Cut a strip of green felt big enough to cover your dowel. Hot glue it on the dowel. Make sure to leave ends clear so it can stick into the foam ball and block.

Draw desired leaf pattern (piranha plants are rather malicious so I made sure my leaves were spiky-ish) on a piece of paper and cut it out. Use it as a pattern to trace as many leaves as you want on your green felt.

Cut out leaves and hot glue them on to your stem. Insert the stem through the black paper hole and push it down into the Styrofoam block so it is securely "planted". Now the stem is done!



If your Styrofoam ball is dry you can work on it now. Go ahead and spear it on to the top of the dowel.

Looking pretty cool already, right? I admit I got a little giddy at this point because of how well it was all coming together. I may have even cackled really loudly a teensy bit. Dee, who had been patiently watching through the entire process--which is to say a lot for a first grade boy, was pretty thrilled too. Coolest Mom in the World--what???

Anyway! Balls on stems... Cut free hand triangles (no need to get fancy here) out of the white felt for the piranha plant's infamous chompers. Hot glue them on to the outer edge of the missing triangle chunk.

Now comes the trickiest part. Don't sweat it! It's not too bad. We need to make the lips of the plant. I'm sure there's an easier way to do this. This is just the way I did it. Because I like to do things the hard way. It's kind of my thing.

Use a soft measuring tape to measure the mouth. Cut a 2"x whatever-you-measured-plus-some" strip out of the white felt. I made 2"x8" strips for my plants, but it's all going to matter how you cut that triangle chunk out. Then I cut tapered pieces off the four edges of my white strip. This minimizes the bulk on the edges of the lips once you start rolling it up.

The piranha plants on the game have lips that are puffier in the middle and smaller on the sides. I really wanted to capture this effect. Cutting the edges will help with that. As will the placement of the stuffing/cotton balls. Use one whole cotton ball in the middle. Then pull one cotton ball in half and place them on either side of the middle one. Then pull a third cotton ball in half and half again. Use the two quarters on each end.

Now carefully and tightly roll up the felt with your glue gun at hand. Use a strip of glue to secure the roll leaving the ends unglued.

Now carefully roll and glue the ends. Don't stress if it's a little long for the mouth.

Glue the lips on to your plant mouth. Trim the ends to the desired length. I really like when the lip pieces meet. See my plant on the left? How the lips don't meet on the edge? That bugs me. But maybe it won't bug you.

Now it's time to get creative with dots. I traced circles of two different sizes on to the white felt and cut them out. Then I hot glued them on. I also cut a triangle tongue (again, think malicious!) out of pink felt and glued it in the mouth. It's a small detail, but a fun one.

Ta Da!! Super Mario Bros Piranha Plants!

I LOVED how they turned out, but even more importantly the birthday boy, Dee loved them. More than I thought he would. He kept saying how real they looked. After I made them we went to run errands and he kept worrying that the plants were going to come alive and eat all the food in our house. Hilarious!

I was certain the boys would care less about the piranha plants but they were a huge hit. They all oohed and aahed over them. I kept finding food in them as kids were trying to feed the plants during the party.

Now the plants are being used to decorate Dee's room. I admit...it was a little hard for me to pass them over. I kind of wanted them on my dresser.

P.S. If anything doesn't make sense or you have questions feel free to ask here in the comments section or email me at hangingsilver{at}gmail{dot}com.

Have a SUPER day!