We Need More Ice Cream!

Tonight after dinner I let loose a bit and dished up ice cream for all the kids.

(Well, all except Dee. He's allergic to milk. I offered him his usual substitute popsicle but he vetoed it for celery and peanut butter. Celery and peanut butter instead of popsicles?! Where did I go wrong?!?)

We don't usually indulge in ice cream; in fact, I try to keep all treats to a minimum. And let me just stop you cold before you make silly assumptions about me being such a fabulous mom who is working so hard to instill healthy habits in her little ones.

Truth: I WILL EAT ALL OF IT if it is in the house. That's it. There's the reality.

But tonight was a treat. Dad's out of town. It's a Thursday night. The ice cream bucket is almost empty and taking up lots of space in the freezer. Why not? "Live and let lick" I say!

As my four little ones sat and slurped their ice cream--and celery?!--the conversation began to flow. And before three little bowls of ice cream and one bowl of peanut butter were gone, we had covered, and I believe in this order:

*where babies come from
*the Plan of Happiness
*Heavenly Father's omnipotent, yet very real and personal awareness of every single person and thing on this earth. (Jeigh pointed out that he even knows when we are having "attitudes". Dang straight he knows!)
*100+500=600
*Free Agency and why God allows people to do bad things
*What exactly "ants on a log" means
and...
*If someone chose to eat Elle she would taste like "little girl" and not "ant"

Who says junk food is all junk? I think I'm adding ice cream on to my weekly grocery list.

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.

Joy Toy Tuesday and Other Toddler Tidbits

Welcome back for the second installment in my new meme Joy Toy Tuesday, where happiness in motherhood is found through the not-so-random placement of my children's toys.

Today's picture only proves that children can see the "playability" in A N Y T H I N G.

Last week we had a conference meeting in my office. This week there is a scheduled training session in the front room. And oh look. Someone has already laid out the class materials.

In other kid funnies...

Yesterday three year old Elle helped me rake up the leaves in our front yard. All summer long the kids would play with the rolly polly bugs that live under the bricks in the front of our house. As Elle searched for them and realized they were gone, she asked where they were. I told her they had probably died with the cold weather.

She sadly agreed and matter-of-factly added: "They should have put their jackets on."

I just couldn't stop giggling from the imagery of little rolly polly bugs sporting jackets.

When six year old Dee came home from school yesterday he had a little confession. He looked down at the bottom edge of his shirt and solemnly said, "I let Jasmine and Alexi touch my little Yoda today."

My eyebrows about raised through the ceiling. "Pardon?!"



Oh.


Lastly, we are joining in with Sarah at Sarah Dawn Designs for a novel Thanksgiving idea. She is hosting a really fun Thanksgiving Photo Scavenger Hunt and Blog Hop. Make sure to visit her for the details.

We are a little late out of the starting gate, but we finally began searching for things we are grateful for for Family Home Evening last night.

One of the items on the list is "Something I'm grateful for that keeps me healthy and strong". Knowing the kids needed flu boosters yesterday, I tried to make it fun by adding it to our scavenger hunt.

So did the kids catch on to the fun??? You know what they say..."A picture's worth a thousand words".

P.S. I don't think my son knows what "the bird" is yet...but I could be wrong.

Enjoying her first chocolate covered pretzel. Life is good.

Pop Culture, Fashion, Parenting, and Aging According to Preschoolers

Yesterday morning I noticed a nasty little scratch on four year old Jeigh's forehead. When I questioned her on how she did it, with a sigh, she wistfully said, "I don't know, but it sure looks like Harry Potter, huh?"

... ... ...

Two Dollar Super Hero

The best two dollars I ever spent was on my recent thrift store adventure on a simple dark grey T-shirt emblazoned with the bright yellow and black Batman logo. Not really a fan of Caped Crusader wear myself, I bought it for my five year old Dee who immediately fell in love. Who knew what magical powers two dollars could conjure up for one five year old boy? The first day he wore it to school, this was his report on how his day had gone:

(With MUCH enthusiasm) "I showed all my buddies my Batman shirt!! They LOVED it! But my feet got tired from having to show so many people, so I didn't show everybody."

... ... ...

Pop it Like it's Hot

Dee is trying to convince his dad and me that this is the "cool way" to wear your collared shirts.


Dee: Hey Mom! Look at me! I'm an umpire!

Me: You mean 'vampire'?

Dee: Yea! I'm cool.

... ... ...

Hair Peace

Jeigh is learning to fix her own hair. She informed me that this is "Beautiful!"


Apparently middle-aged men aren't the only ones who dig the comb-over.

... ... ...

What Stay-at-Home Moms Really Do

I was sitting at the dinner table with my three children while we dived into the spaghetti and homemade bread sticks I had just spent the last half hour or so slaving over. (Okay. Well maybe not slaving, but it certainly was more involved and invested in than running out to McDonald's and dishing out Happy Meals to my little brood.)

Joe being the working dad he is was at (where else?) work. The kids had particularly noticed his absence at the dinner table and began to make some assumptions about his whereabouts and how the world works in general.

Dee: Daddies work. All daddies work a lot.

Jeigh: Yea. Daddies are always gone at work. They work hard.

Me (just out of curiosity): Oh yeah? So what do mommies do?

Jeigh: They don’t work. They never work.

Dee (laughing): Yeah. They just love to eat!

Thanks Dee. Thanks a lot.

... ... ...

Caution: Men at Breakfast


Who knew breakfast could be so hazardous?

... ... ...

Age is Just a Hair Color

Dee: Hey Mom? Me and Jeigh are young, aren't we?

Me: Yep, you are.

Dee: Mom are you young?

Me: Nope. I'm old.

Dee: No, you're not. You don't have white hair.

Me: Dee, you don't have to have white hair to be old.

Dee: Well, okay, then you're not super old...Yet.

"...and TOTALLY redeem yourself!"

(Quick! Name the movie I got that title from!)

Update:

Remember how bummed out I was that my kids failed to retain the true lesson behind our little tootsie roll project?

Just now, I was cruising around on my blog and Jeigh walked up beside me. She pointed to the picture of Abraham Lincoln and states, "That guy was a great man. The best man in America."

GASP! By golly! I think she's got it!

Me: That's right, Jeigh! Do you remember his name?

Jeigh: ...pause...pause...pause...Umm...Callahan Lincoln.

That's close enough!!

{sigh} It's these moments that make being a mom the best job there is! I mean, come on! Who else gets to "work" with chocolate and reap the even sweeter rewards later?

That's-Not-My-Kid Thursday

We've been stuck at home all week so I can't really think of anything too embarrassing that my kids have said or done in public lately. That hasn't kept them from saying things at home of course. Here's a random sampling of kids-say-the-darnedest-things fun from this past week.

Anger Management

I caught five-year old Dee playing with my exercise ball after I had asked him multiple times not to play with it. I took it away from him and put it up high. He looked at me and very calmly said, "Mom. You make me all heated inside."

Me: What did you say?

Dee (VERY calmly): You make me heated. Like fire and flames are going to come out. All heated inside.

Me: Are you trying to say you are angry?

Dee: Yep. But more like fire.


The Plan of Happiness

Jeigh to Dee: Heavenly Father wants us to be happy. Heavenly Father wants us to have stickers. Lots and lots of stickers.


Gender Selection

The kids and I were talking about what people are. I explained that we are humans. They just looked at me confused.

Me: We aren't dogs. We aren't monkeys or fish or birds. We are humans.

Dee (looking like he's figured it out): Oooooohhh. Humans!

Then Dee turns to Jeigh and explains, "Jeigh, boys are HU-mans and girls are MA-ams. Right, Mom?"


I'm a Barbie Girl

The other day we were getting ready to go swimming. As I came out in my swimsuit, Dee looked at me and said, "Mommy! You look beautiful!", to which Jeigh added "Yeah Mommy! You're like Barbie!". Ummm, hardly, but hey! I'll take it. You don't think they've figured out how to butter me up yet, do you? Nah. I'm going to stick with my uncanny resemblance to Barbie. {snort}


Barbie Hits Bottom

Oh, don't think they're always so generous with their comments. Yesterday we were once again getting ready to go swimming and Dee said, "Mom! Your bum is HUGE!"

Me (sarcastically): Thanks Dee.

Dee: You're welcome. It's HUUUGE!


Oh wait! I did think of a public one!

We were at Walmart the other day (when are we NOT at Walmart?). As we walked past a couple of girls that were kindly waiting for us to pass, three-year old Jeigh, chock full of all sorts of teenage attitude, smartly yelled (yes, yelled), "EXCUUUUSE US! We're walking here!"

Got any good kid stories this week? Write a post, include the pic, and link up below. Or just comment. Whatever floats your boat.