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She's the family trophy. They fight over who gets to play with her. She can poke their eyes, scratch their faces, spit on them and they don't try to get even.
My kids, who can be so mean to each other, turn all lovey-dovey when she crawls by. She cries and they will do their best monkey faces to make her beam her 4-teeth smile at them.

Seriously....if I'd known she could turn a hardened 9-year-old boy into a softy, then I'd have had her sooner (don't think about the math on that one too much)

Sadly I know from first hand knowledge that her years as MVP of the house are short. Soon it will stop being so cute when she grabs their toys/food/LEGO creation/ear/hair/nostril and she will become a threat. Her funny sounds will turn "ee-nnoying" (as Ethan pronounces it). Her messes will be her responsibility and not to be pawned off on more responsible sibs.

So my advice to you Syd, is to live it up!

They behave themselves while sleeping

Ethan with Brownie Bear, the pass along germ friend from kindergarten

Two weeks until Thanksgiving and I haven't even peeked in our Thankful Jar to see what everyone's written. Probably because I've had to help them spell half of the words, so it's not like there'll be a lot of surprises....
But there is one word that I've added to the jar that I haven't in years past. And that's the word 'teachers.' Ethan came home from kindergarten today and in the midst of his after-school chatter it came out that he had to put his head on his desk. Apparently he was running around with his jacket on his head and that wasn't appropriate. It also came out that he and the person he sits next to had to be separated due to some excessive talking and less excessive working. Bless his patient teacher.

Ike has a great teacher that plays football with them at recess and brings tarantulas to class. What more could a boy ask for?
Mitch loves his teacher because she's not as strict as all the substitutes he's had. Too bad for him she's having a baby soon and the strict subs will be permanent.
The church teachers are also to be commended (haha I just about typed the word condemned instead! Maybe they feel that way?!) Afternoon church is asking a lot out of my antsy kids and no matter how much I try to bribe them every week to behave, it ain't really translating into sitting still and listening for three hours.

We've had our duds (for some strange reason Ike couldn't handle his second grade teacher who had been a Young Ambassador at BYU. That alone qualified her as an excellent human being in my book, but what do I know?) but for the most part I am thankful for all those who try to patiently and lovingly teach my kids. Even when they run around with jackets on their heads.

Election 09

(What I'll look like voting in a few years)

Another exciting election day is over. My little hamlet had a ho hum municipal election with only one mayoral candidate on the ballot in addition to a couple of city council positions. But a vigorous write in campaign was waged for mayor and the write in candidate won! How exciting is that?
And my dear uncle, in another little hamlet, had a hard fight to keep his position as mayor. He eked out a win and all is well. How exciting is that?

Gay marriage not happening in Maine, Bloomberg spending bazillions of his own money, major governor races in the east....How exciting is that??

I got to tally the votes last night. My alltime favorite election day activity. For one, you don't have to spend 15 hours at the same table as an election judge and fight with people over which precinct they thought they were in, and for another, you are the very first one to get an inkling of what the results are going to be. Sadly, you also see that some people are very inept at voting. Please, if it says mark two candidates then try to only pick two! If you mark three then none of them counts! We also had someone vote for everyone on the ballot. That is a very nice Christian sentiment but in elections they all can't be winners. Then there was one completely blank ballot that confused us. We heard later that an impatient wife assumed her husband was done voting and grabbed his ballot and stuffed it in the box before he'd filled anything out. Apparentely she didn't know that he needed lots of contemplation time?

My favorite was a write in candidate for mayor: Thomas S. Monson. I wonder if he knew he was in the running?

Stuffola

Ike opted out of soccer this year to do flag football (one sport per season rule for sanity's sake). He loves it and has scored lots of touchdowns. Unfortunately, it gets freakin' cold during his games so Hub and I have had to swap fan duties. he's the blondie in the green shirt running w/ the ball

**We also had the annual carving of the pumpkins. The kids design their own and are in charge of scooping out the guts while Hub does all the hard labor. I have the job of keeping hands away from knives and watching DWTS. Good thing I can multitask.

**We had our annual C Fam Halloween party. Always fun--good food, good cousins, good games, pinatas and a spook alley the kids went through about 7 times each. Can't go wrong with that formula.
Ike as a beardless Santa

Mitch as Harry, courtesy of Auntie T

Noelle as a fairy

Ethan as Superman, courtesy of Auntie A (gotta love having loaning relatives)

Hub incorporated a radio into his costume so he could be anti-social and have one ear on the BYU game. From the final score, you'll know it wasn't worth it.

Syd doesn't believe in dressing up because she has too many of my genes in her. Now I have to stop messing with downloading pictures and feed my family. Wouldn't it be great if children came with stomach's already full? Just a thought for the next world...

Permy

Did you know permy wasn't a word? I tried to use it in an exciting game of Scrabble last night with Hub, but it was a no go. I use it as an adjective all the time like "She has permy hair." And "How many permy teeth does your child have?" (OK, that last one wasn't true. I'm just getting creative now.) But who knew it wasn't a legit way to describe wavy hair?

On that note, you can tell this post has no real direction. So let's continue with the lack of theme, shall we?

Here's how I like my decorated Halloween sugar cookies:

A touch of frosting and one candy corn that is easily removed and given to someone who appreciates them.

Then there is Isaac....

We're still not even sure if there is an actual cookie underneath all the candy corn.


**And in Sydney news...

She's mobile.

She now can go get her own LEGOs to eat, follow me into any room I try to escape to but also entertains herself a little bit more.

She also can have a front row seat to her brothers' wrestling parties. As long as she is enthralled then I won't worry about her exposure to violence.


There actually have been some more eventful things happening, but a post with a picture of a sugar cookie and a complaint about my Scrabble word was all I was up for today. My prerogative, friends. (hey, that word would probably be worth a few good points...)

Oldness

The last few days I have come to this shocking revelation: I am getting old. Here is a small sampling of the evidence redneck style...
YOU KNOW YOU'RE GETTING OLD
** when you don't cry when you get your hair chopped off several inches by a non-professional. (so my sis convinced me she had watched enough you-tube videos on hair cutting to know what she was doing. Not quite convinced, but you can't beat a free haircut!)

** when you about pass out from playing 4 straight tennis games. And you kindof want to throw up at the end.

** when you are chaperoning the YM/YW indexing party that is supposed to go until midnight and you are silently praying the whole time that the kids will just beg to go home early. And of course they don't so you take your anger out by beating a poor deacon soundly at air hockey.

**when you actually enjoy Women's Conf. and General Conf. and not just because you can watch them in your jammies.

I'm sure there are more reasons, but that might involve too much introspection and I said I was getting old, not mature!

Birthday Brainwashing

Noelle and her Birthday loot


A real live princess dress! Now she can finally keep up with the cousins

Pink was the only requirement of her Birthday cake. Thankfully she doesn't know that cakes can come in sizes other than squares.

One of the most rewarding parts of parenting is you get to try lots of psychological tricks on your kids and see if they work. Then, if they actually succeed, you can write a book about it and get lots of money and be able to afford the therapy your child may need as a result of your psychological tricks. See how fun it can be?
Anyhoo, Noelle turned three recently. She was very excited to talk about all the things she could do when she was three. Like she wondered if she could go to school like 'brothers'. And if she could be on a soccer team. My mind started working and I decided to take advantage of this milestone and told her exactly what would happen when she turned 3. Here's my list:

When you're 3

You don't have tantrums

You love fruits and veggies

You actually take longer naps

You know all of your colors

You clean up your own messes

You don't imitate any of your brothers' naughty behaviors

You don't start eating until we've prayed

Your whiny voice is a thing of the past

You don't ask to get out of the grocery cart

You don't climb out of the grocery cart

And there were more if you can possibly imagine! Sweet Noelle is now on Day 3 of being three and the experiment was a complete flop. She didn't even try to eat any fruits or veggies to see if she all of a sudden would like them. Sadly, no book will be written about this.

Normal kid problems aside, we love having Noelle in our family to add humor and pink to our daily activities. If I had known girls were so much fun I may have had them first. But then I wouldn't have seen how great it is for Noelle to have big brothers and for them to have a little sister (or two)...so I'll just call it good.

$Feet$

Pop quiz!

Question#1. Who gets a new pair of shoes every couple of months?

a. Me because I deserve them

b. Hub because he deserves them

c. Ike because he doesn't deserve them



Question #2. Who gets their new shoes from places that don't end in '-Mart' or '-arget' or '-ayless'?

a. Me because they don't sell Jimmy Choos at Payless.

b. Hub because WalMart doesn't carry Tevas.

c. Ike because he has Carnivore Feet that eat away cheaper shoes just by stepping into them.

If you answered C to both questions you are a genius.

Seriously. Look at these harmless feet:

He knew it was abnormal for me to take a picture of his feet so he's curling his toes in modesty

How could those beauties do such damage?? He doesn't even get a chance to outgrow his shoes before he has worn through the soles. The shortest lifespan was 5 weeks for a pair from Target. Sure the kid is active, but it's not like he's running marathons at recess is it? He's not rock climbing during PE is he? How the heck do his shoes get ruined so quickly? Maybe he puts them in the shredder.
This week he came home and showed me a flapping sole and a toe sticking out of the bottom of his shoe. I was busy this week! I didn't have time for an emergency trip to the Big City to buy him some fancy new shoes. Wear your Sunday shoes, I begged. No go. Wear those flip flops you never wear because you can't really run in them, I begged. No go. Wear your cleats and do some real damage during recess, I begged. No go.
I had to buy us some time before we could take him shoe shopping. So Hub used some glue and tried to glue the flapping pieces and I put duct tape over the hole. Don't judge us. Didn't you have to wear bread bags over your shoes in winter? (or was that just my older brothers?) Heck, your grandparents were probably feeling lucky to even own a pair of shoes. So what if my kid was wearing duct taped, glue spotted shoes?
Sadly, the duct tape wasn't up to MacGyver's standards and Ike came home with even a bigger hole. There was no fighting it; he needed new shoes before he wore holes through all his socks. Precious time was sacrificed and Hub went to several shoe stores on the way home from work to find the perfect pair of shoes that fit the criteria of athletic, on sale, and not too flashy (Ike is particular).
I try not to be jealous. But I can't really justify buying a new pair of shoes for me as frequently as Ike gets a new pair. Maybe if I started putting my own shoes in the shredder?

What type of fan are you?

Tonight I fed my children dinner, lovingly yelled at them to not ride their bikes in the road, bathed them and read them lots of books before bed----all while the radio was on so I could every once in awhile catch the score of the BYU football game. Hub and Ike had driven several cities away to actually watch the game on TV since our satellite company is El Stinky and doesn't get Versus. So the question begs, why didn't I go too since I enjoy me a good football game? Simply put: Hub is the Rabid Fan and I am just the Healthy Normal Fan that realizes children don't watch a football game and they desire nourishment and bedtime. (and yes, I mean rabid and not the more benign term of avid as you will see why)

Here is how we differ in our fandom:

The Rabid Fan thinks you must be sitting in your stadium seat 10 minutes prior to kickoff and you don't leave your seat until the game is finished, no matter if the game is a blowout and you could beat the traffic home. The Rabid Fan also believes it's reasonable to endure blizzard-like conditions to watch a game.
The Healthy Normal Fan thinks it's OK to miss kickoff if you still need to find pockets to smuggle treats into the stadium. The HNF also knows that it is perfectly fine to listen to the last ten minutes of the game on the radio while you are speeding down 9th East. She also knows that if her toes are numb with frostbite then the Cougars will forgive her for going home early.

The Rabid Fan will always volunteer to go to a game and childcare and lactating spouses are secondary concerns.

The HNF knows that going to a game with a Rabid Fan spouse will result in several hours of childcare and maybe it's OK to miss the stadium experience while nursing...
The Rabid Fan will stay up late to watch postgame interviews and commentary and eagerly get the paper in the morning to read more about the game--as if he hadn't watched the whole thing already!

The HNF is pleased as punch to win, but doesn't need to relive every big play and see the same footage on SportsCenter.

The Rabid Fan gets a teensy bit angry when the Cougars are playing poorly and has been known to break things and utter words not fit for those little pitchers.

The HNF realizes it's just a game and will say in a chipper voice, "We'll get 'em next time!" when her team is losing.

See what I'm dealing with? The Rabid Fan just sucks all the fandom out of me. We could deal with our differences before the kiddies came along, but now I have to pull the Mother Martyr card and be there for them. Maybe one day we can all sit down and enjoy a good win together again, but as for now, I'll just be catching the score in between loads of laundry.
And in Rabid Fan's defense.... he would argue that is just a Better Fan than yours truly. And he does remember he has a family during halftime. I guess if being a Rabid Fan is his only flaw, then he ain't doing too bad. (is that a good mea culpa, sweetie? hope so!)

I hate to be too matchy-matchy so I just dressed my whole fan-ily in BYU gear but me (2007 so no Syd--don't worry though, she fits into the pink BYU shirt now!)