Recent Stuff

Summer vacation! Wahoo! I have grand hopes of teaching my children all sorts of things that their public education has failed to deliver. Mitchell also has some grand ideas. He delivered Noelle to me with whiskers drawn on her face. I think he was going to do his own version of the Broadway hit 'Cats'. (side note: I paid big bucks to see this at the Capitol Theatre several years ago and thought it was the lamest thing ever. Does anyone really love it?) I would have yelled at him more for drawing on his sister but since it is summer we have our windows open and the neighbors might hear.
Then we had the Fathers and Sons. Hub remembered the camera while they were packing up to return home. Oh well, documentation is documentation no matter when it occurred.

Ethan packing up his beloved Tiger. He told me Tiger could go because he wouldn't snore

Ethan, Isaac and Mitch (with his doggy on his head--apparently he doesn't snore either)

While the boys were away I had some good times with some other men-less females and did lots of cleaning that never seems to happen with lots of boys running around.

Then since I am a good sister, I saw the flick 'Baby Mama' with Cold Cocoa so she could get out of the house before her hub is out of town. I found it a very funny movie. So did the guy on the front row who laughed with gusto at everything. So maybe I was laughing more at him laughing? Dang, I hate it when you come home and second guess your laughs. But if you love Tina Fey humor then you would like this movie.

And those are some special things that happened. Please stay tuned because I will be doing a special 10-year wedding anniversary edition. And I know everyone is dying to see how much weight Hub has put on since our Big Day.

Some Random Thoughts

Who invented swear words? Who got to decide what words were naughty or not? Shouldn't any word you say with venom be considered a curse word? My personal curse words at this time are "Shalla" which has Hub very nervous because there is a woman in our ward with that name and he's worried about people thinking I am slandering her, and I also like "shizzle". You may guess by the first consonant blend which official swear word I am replacing. And for some odd reason my new curse word lately has been "papa" as our dear neighbors heard a lot when we played tennis with them and I was hitting many a bad shot. That also has no reflection on my own father as I would never think of him while angry. I have no idea how those words fly out of my mouth when I am needing to vent, but at least I have the ability to substitute for the real thing.

Also, we visited our traditional four cemeteries this Memorial Day weekend, covering both Hub's and my families. We are getting better at locating the graves but I really wish we could bury people in alphabetical order. This would make life a lot easier and would be fuel efficient as well since you would have a lot less cars driving around aimlessly in the cemetery looking for that 'special' tree they vaguely remembered their loved one being buried under. I am pretty sure this is a feasible suggestion and I am going to run for city council with it being my number one issue. Maybe my dad, as long as I stop using the curse word papa, will help in coming up with a statistical analysis of how many plots would be needed for each letter. Sometimes I have such great ideas I can't believe it!

My last genius thought of the day is that we need several Father and Sons Campouts throughout the year. This would be a great boost to mothers everywhere, not to mention the great chance for bonding that happens between father and son. Ours is this coming weekend and Ethan is finally old enough to go. He does know his days of the week, so I am a little confused why he keeps on asking me if it is Friday yet. Like somehow Tuesday this week only was one hour? Anyway, I think when I run for city council this will be the second issue I push through. I think all the mothers with sons will vote for me on this issue alone, so the alphabetical order burials will just be a bonus.
This concludes my deep thoughts for the day.

One step closer to manhood

My sweet Mitch had his kindergarten graduation today. He was told by his teacher to wear church clothes. That was a very bad thing to say as church clothes are akin to being tortured in my boys' eyes. In a moment of defiance he told me he wasn't going to wear anything at all, not even his unders! I kind of wished he'd followed through on that threat as it would have spiced up the program a bit.

His teacher must have not been righteous enough since she was cursed with having Mitch and his favorite cousin Travis in the same class this year. We had an uncomfortable SEP a couple months ago where we were informed the two liked to "wrestle on the carpet" and they had "privileges taken away."

It was a lovely program replete with children singing, millions of cameras flashing and video cameras whirring, and my other children wanting to be anywhere else but there. This last picture is what you get when you realize you can't man a video camera and a digital camera and two whiny kids all at the same time so you let your 7-year-old take pictures with the less expensive camera.

Maybe Ike gets his great photography skills from me.

The question of the Mow

So last Saturday we had a lot going on. Just like yesterday Saturday and just like the Saturday two Saturdays ago, and like the next two Saturdays coming up. Hub likes making lists of all the things he wants to accomplish in a day, and which I am strongly against because then there is actual proof of what DIDN'T get accomplished since I'm one of those glass half-empty kinda girls, and on the list was mowing the lawn. There were also other things on his list which involved using tools and physical strength and things where I'd get my hands dirty, so when I got a chance I figured I could help dwindle down his list by mowing the lawn. At which he got embarrassed and said something to the effect of, "But it's Saturday! Everyone who drives by will know I am home and wonder why my wife is mowing the lawn!" But if you know Hub, he really didn't say it with exclamation points. That's just how I like to relay it. But this issue comes up year after year and I would like to open it up for a discussion topic. Who mows the lawn at your house and why?

My feelings have changed over the years. Girls and boys in our home both mowed the lawn while growing up, though I never once saw my mom do it. Then I remember thinking it a little funny that my oldest brother's wife (shout out to you Sher ) mowed the lawn before they had kids big enough to do it. Then I got married and when we bought a house it was just one of Hub's jobs. But then life got busier and he got busier and it just didn't make sense to wait for him to come home to mow the lawn while I still watched the kids or for him to do it on Saturdays while I still watched the kids or to expect him to mow the lawn and watch the kids at the same time. Because that, my friends, is called multi-tasking and men can't seem to do it in the family environment.

So it just has become easier for me to do it during the day while the kids are already outside playing. Granted, this is not the most time efficient way as I am constantly having to stop the mower to wrestle kids apart or to push someone on the swing or to pick up all the toys that just got thrown in the way, but it sure beats having Hub come home and having to do it late in the evening or on already busy Saturdays.

Plus, did I mention the great exercise it is? I burn way more calories by mowing than I do by doing dishes. So there you have it. I mow the lawn out of my own choice and not because my Hub makes me or won't do it eventually (though it apparently hurts his pride). In closing I have a picture of my legs. I figured if E could do it in her tanning post, I could do it in my lawn mowing post. It's hard to see but this is two-day-old evidence of the burn I got just on the back of my legs from mowing in the middle of the day.

And then I ran across the next picture, which would have solved all my tan line problems. If only I would have mowed the lawn dressed like this:So sorry if this picture offends anyone. I just couldn't resist!

One Reason to Look Forward to Summer

I look forward to summer for many reasons. I believe snow is only useful for ambiance at Christmas time and the obligatory sledding trip. And maybe a little thing called water supply, but other than that, bring on the heat! So it is with great joy I bring you the re-emergence of these:Bare feet! Flip Flops! Can you say Hallelujah? And before you get the idea that I am one of those strange people with a foot fetish--nope. The fact of the matter is that I am sooooo stinkin' tired of this:

We have a serious disorder at our house called Single Sock Syndrome, or SSS. At any given time of day in the winter, you will find socks discarded in various rooms of our house. The sock will be all alone--unattached to a foot or its mate. It is a very strange disease. How does it happen? Surely someone would have a cold foot? Or surely if someone took off one sock, they would take off the other in close proximity? I have studied this disease and interviewed my four subjects, who all claim to be stymied as well as to how the socks are leaving their feet one at a time and migrating all over the house. Granted, one of my subjects is not verbal, but she grunted some similar response. Here are some further examples of this epidemic:

This poor sock couldn't even make it up the stairs with its mate or owner!

These socks are tricking you. You mistakenly assume they belong together since they are a foot apart (no pun intended-- unless of course, you actually find pun humor hilarious and wanted me to intend it). Unfortunately, they are not a match. They must have come together on their own because they were so lonely.

And this sock was found very close to the washing machine. Maybe it was trying in vain to jump in and join its dirty mate.

And lest you think SSS is gender specific, no, even Tinker Bell socks are not immune.

And because I am very tired of trying to solve the puzzle of SSS and very tired of picking socks up all over the house I am more than ready to deal with DSSFS. Or for you uneducated types out there, that would be Dirty Stinky Sandal Foot Syndrome.

My Personal Pride Police

If you were to look at my kids' resumes (what? Don't your kids have resumes?) under 'skills' it would say 'keeping my mom's pride in check'. This occurs in many ways, mostly involving public outings, but here are some recent examples of areas in which my children are placed on earth to fully ensure that I never get a big head about anything.

ART SKILLS: Please refer to a couple posts prior where I displayed my 'door' for the PE teacher. After explaining my idea and getting all pumped about it, Ike who actually does have artistic skills, refused to get involved. After the banner was hung and he witnessed it at school, I asked him what he thought. He said,"It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be." Gee, thanks?

MUSICAL SKILLS: I enjoy playing the piano for kicks. It happens very rarely since it seems as if whenever I sit down on the bench, no matter what activity the kids were engaged in, it turns into a race for who can squeeze next to me on the bench and make beautiful music with me. And since I happen to be the only one who can actually read the notes, no beautiful music is created. The other day I was able to practice for a little bit alone when Mitch came in the room. "Wow! That was you playing the piano, Mom?" he asked. I was waiting for a follow-up compliment like, "--Because that sounded like a professional pianist." Instead, he said, "Because I thought that was Ethan and I was going to tell him he was doing a good job." Ethan?? Whose preferred method of playing the piano doesn't involve fingers, it involves plunking his bottom on the keys?? Gee, thanks Mitch.

BEAUTY: I was doing the dishes and Ethan was watching TV (another one of Ethan's resume 'skills') when I heard him yell, "That looks like you, Mom!" I raced to the TV because I was very curious as to who could possibly look like me. Could it be Giselle? Vanna? An American Gladiator? Oprah (Ethan has a very active imagination)? Nope. He was watching a commercial and he pointed to a MAN. He thought I looked like a MAN! Granted, the man had shoulder length hair, but still. He was a MAN. Thanks, Ethan.

To be fair, the kids also can inflate my pride by telling me I'm the best mom they ever had. And that I'm smarter than a 5th grader. So maybe it all evens out in the end.

Happy Seis de Mayo!

I made the mistake of blog hopping around St. Patrick's Day this year and saw how fun different moms got on holidays. A whole dinner around a theme! What a concept! I realized this was something I could do. Except not on St. Patrick's Day since I don't eat green food as a general rule and I'm not about to go authentic and do the corned beef and cabbage thing (sorry Summer!) So I was just waiting for the perfect holiday to showcase my new fun-ness without too much effort (the two terms really do not go together in my book). And then it hit me! Cinco de Mayo! Fun because it celebrates my Mexican ancestors (so what if we have to go to the pre-existence to find the link?) and easy because we kindof eat Mexican food anyway (kindof because I don't really do beans or peppers or chilis or other traditional Mexican fare--but bring on the nachos!)
I planned my menu mentally (who has time to write things down?) and couldn't wait for the fiesta to begin. The only problem was that I never really checked the calendar to see when Cinco de Mayo really was. I knew it was the 5th (duh) but I have this handicap lately. I only go by days of the week. I know what day I have things, but I never can tell you the actual date. For example, Tuesday is Ethan's doctor visit; Wednesday I am babysitting; etc. This makes life easy to understand and I live week by week. Somehow I got all messed up and didn't know it Cinco de Mayo until halfway in the middle of the day. I tried to figure out a way to make it all work, but it was FHE and none of the kids wanted to substitute my fiesta for what we already had planned (major party poopers were Ethan who was in charge of treats and Mitch who was in charge of the game--Ike who was in charge of the lesson was more than willing to give up his part for some Mexican history, but I wouldn't let him). So, as most mothers have learned to do, I just reshuffled my brain and celebrated a day later. Heck, it's not like it was Christmas!
This tasty dish was cinnamon crisps with fruit salsa. We had fajitas for the actual entree, but they weren't as pretty to look at.

Here is Noelle with the most awesome white girl 'fro, Ethan, and Mitch who just loved to play on the el deslizadero. Thanks to Dora the Explorer for our Spanish words.And Isaac cannot go a day without playing football. But on this Seis de Mayo, it was futbol. They actually have a league and everything. Thank you to Wikepedia for teaching me about the Mexican Futbol league.

And that thar is the evidence of how I can be a fun mom too. I'm just counting down now until the next random holiday to further hone my fun mom skills. Any suggestions?

WHAT WENT DOWN THIS WEEK

Another week down the drain. It felt busy but when I used my Sunday brain to think about why....nothing really came to mind. Good thing I had these pictures in my camera to remind me of a couple of events. Ethan learned to snorkel at preschool. The mom in charge this week really went the extra mile and taught about deep sea creatures and gave each boy his own snorkeling gear. Doesn't really compare to that boring lesson I gave them on the Founding Fathers does it?

What else? We had a mock baseball game for FHE so everyone could remember which way you run the bases and how to react if a ball comes your way. Mitch will be starting tee-ball and Ike has his first year of coach pitch so any practice is helpful. Mitch just needs to learn that one you get on a base you aren't allowed to sit on it and pick dandelions. And Ike needs to remember that just because he is the fastest runner doesn't mean he is supposed to cover the entire outfield by himself. Should be a fun season.

Then there was this:
This was 'my' door to decorate at the school. It is teacher appreciation week and the PTA wanted every staff member's door adorned with some lovely banner. I got to do the PE teacher and thought a sports theme was very simple. I got my vision and my creative juices flowed and while at home I looked at my masterpiece and thought, 'Wow! I am one talented lady!'

And thus the cycle of my arts disease begins: I get excited, create the work, compare it to what my children can do, feel prideful, take it to display, see all the other mother's works of art where they use materials I've never even heard of, get embarrassed about mine, go home and accept that my real talents are in reading and make-believe games. I was good at art as a kid and I think that pride has stayed with me. But somewhere along the line, my skills have stayed at about an elementary school level and my brain forgets that when I eagerly agree to take on crafty projects.
So yes, there were several doors much more elaborate and clever than mine. I even took pictures of them to prove to Hub what a Big Deal this is. (I don't dare post them because what if they are really copyrighted and there's some national Door Decorating Contest and some poacher steals their idea from my site?I couldn't live with myself if that happened.)

Other great things happened this week that I didn't take pictures of. Like meeting my friend Debbie at the park for lunch before she headed back to sunny AZ. And it was awesome because for once I wasn't the mom who had the whiny kids clinging to her--that was Debbie! My kids were great and went off and played and I was that Mom who I am always jealous of. So thanks, D, for letting me be that lady for once. Or rather, thank your kids!
And that is all that I can think of. Or all that I can take time to share since there's a noise level in my house now that is not conducive with the Sabbath spirit. THE END.