What's next?

The fun has been had. Now Ethan wonders what holiday is next. My birthday wasn't a satisfactory answer. Neither was Human Rights Day. It is sad to say goodbye to a fun holiday season. But I'm all about moving on. So yes, all our decor is packed away. Don't judge me---I know you just disguise your jealousy of my lack of seasonal clutter by calling me a scrooge.


The new pjs.


And bless those of you who do Christmas cards and newsletters. I actually enjoy a good newsletter. After all, isn't that just like printing out your blog but in a bathroom-readable format?
Here is the darling photo of the kids that would have gone on the Christmas card we didn't send. Again it makes me wonder how everyone else gets all their children to look photogenic with props and matching outfits and Santas in the background...seriously. Do you drug your kids?

my favorite of the girlies (dresses courtesy of Auntie T who bought them a year in advance. The sizes actually worked!)

To sum it all up: we had a great Christmas. Everyone was cheerful for the most part. We endured/enjoyed a million parties though we still have one more to go. Hub got his fill of assisting boys with Legos and 3-D puzzles and I got my fill of keeping Syd and Noelle out of Legos and 3-D puzzles.

Ike set a Santa trap that didn't work (he placed a bell ornament precariously on a limb so when Santa bumped it the bell would fall, thus waking Ike up---the flaw in the plan occurs because Ike's room is in the basement far away from any tiny jingle noises) but I'm really thinking we're close to the end of the Santa illusion with him. Sad.

We forgot to make any cookies (I'd made too many various batches in the weeks prior) so we left Santa all that we had lying around--some stale pancakes. He didn't mind them one bit. And nobody dug too deep in the garbage to discover otherwise.
Anyway, it is sad to say goodbye to such a fun time of year. But really, who doesn't get excited about Human Rights Day?

Nice Box

I am counting this as putting the Nativity out. After getting out all the decorations, transporting a couple of nativities to and from our ward creche, re-hanging ornaments and constantly picking up the more child friendly decorations I just couldn't quite get myself to pull this baby out of the box. Not to mention I HATE the sound of styrofoam.....So, I think we can all just look at the picture on the box to remember the reason for the season and not need it in a more presentable form. I should get props for clearing a spot off the top of the piano--even if it was just to display a box.
And I'd meant to share this before---Syd and Ike are good buddies. He babysits her while someone else is babysitting him because she is soooo into stranger danger. Even when the strangers are people like grandparents. But she's OK if Ike is the one holding her and taking care of her when Hub and I aren't around.
So maybe their bond has extended into adopting each other's facial expressions?? Exhibit A:

Syd's toothless smile because she only had a couple and was embarrassed to show them.

And here is Exhibit B:

Ike's toothless smile because he didn't want to appear too cheesy for the school photographers.
Notice the similarity?

Hello December

noelle and ethan enjoying the snow--I'm pretty sure they only go outside because that means they can come back inside after 10 minutes and beg for hot chocolate


December 8th. We have had over a foot of snow, a fresh Christmas tree, two Christmas parties under our belt, front row seats at the Provo winter parade, neighbor gifts already coming, holiday tantrums, visits with Santa, a trip to the Forgotten Carols w/ the YW, viewings of The Polar Express, the Grinch and that free animated video The King is Born... I think we could have Christmas tomorrow and be OK. Except there may not be any presents under the tree. Oh well, can't have it all.


Decorating the tree....decorations courtesy of various preschools and elementary schools. I'm pretty sure that in a couple of years we will not be able to see the actual tree due to all the kid crafts adorning it.

Mitch asking Santa for the second book in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. Bless his scholarly heart. Please note Isaac in the background. We have not been able to get Ike near Santa since he was 6 months old. Noelle was similarly adamant about not getting within three feet of the scary dude. Please forget that Ike is 6 years older than Noelle.

The whole fam at the Christmas parade. We got enough salt water taffy and tootsie rolls to last us the rest of the winter.


Gratuitous picture of Syd. Next year she can play in the snow, not eat the tree, and throw her own holiday induced tantrums.

Not quite The Plaza

Goodbye turkeys on our wall. Hello Christmas decor...

(please imagine darling pix of Christmas decor here since I'm not really all that on top of it and am slightly dreading pulling out the dusty boxes)


It's been a great couple of weeks. What do Donny Osmond, BYU football and RSL all have in common? That's right--huge wins. We'll take any reason to party over here.

Thanksgiving break was spent enjoying family on both sides and partaking of good food and fun. A lowlight was when I attempted to arm wrestle a pregnant lady and another SIL and stalemated (is that a word?) both times! Totally pumping iron until Christmas so I can have a surefire win and feel good about myself.

Another lowlight was Ethan's middle of the night journey to the ER for breathing difficulties. We can officially say he has asthma. Bummer. He spent a couple nights at the hospital. I had a hard time with him there because in a perfect world there should be no need for a pediatric wing in a hospital. In my mind he was pitiful and looking like this in his hospital bed...


But really he was usually like this.....

The big Cheeseball loved the hotel aspects of the hospital--"Mom, look my own bathroom!" "They bring you food Mom! Like in a restaurant!" "I get my own remote control!" He also didn't mind the one-on-one with mom and dad where we spent lots and lots of hours playing tic-tac-toe, reading and coloring. He's home now and hopefully there won't be another visit to the Hospital Hilton.
That's our update in a nutshell. Gotta go do some pushups now.

Voted Most Popular

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!)

Title Schmitle

I hate to deprive anybody of the fascinating aspects of our life so I'm going to cram it all in. Put your seatbelt on and enjoy the ride.

Life has been busy with soccer. It's so fun to watch kids run around and fall down and kick the ball the wrong way. Hub is coaching again this year which has its pros and cons. Pro being he's getting home from work earlier. Con being I have to watch the other kids during the games and that really cramps my self appointed sideline coaching job.

I cannot take action pix while holding a babe and yelling at my kid to kick it harder, so here's Ethan standing there

and here's a picture of Mitch standing there doing body inventory

Moving on....An exciting day occurred when I took Noelle and Syd to get their beauty shots at the oh-so-cheap Target Portrait Studio.

See how cheesy and happy Noelle can be when getting her picture taken?Well, that same girl didn't come to the picture party. She buried her head on the chair in the waiting room and sobbed that she didn't want to have her picture taken. And she absolutely refused to even go in the studio. Good thing she has a couple of older bros who taught me that difficult children were my lot in life, so I just said whatevs, no treat for you.

After that success story it was Sydney's turn! Syd was feeling very thoughtful and preferred solemn poses no matter how ridiculous the photographer and I acted, so again I just said whatevs, at least you sat there.

Speaking of Syd, does the above outfit bother you? Hub told me it was definitely a stay-at-home-never-leave-the-house-in-this kindof outfit. And Ike says it makes him think of cupcakes.

Moving on, yet again.....we had a wonderful Labor Day weekend. Fireworks, family baptisms, parades, family dinners and fun and a big BYU win made life seem wonderful.
Then Mitch threw a big fat weird tantrum going back to school because he thought he swallowed his permanent tooth while eating oatmeal. I know, what the?! And I was just so desperate to get him to stop crying and get out of the car and get in the school that I started throwing out bribes and we were doing this negotiation thing through his sobs. Guess what I owe him for finally going to class that morning? A whole package of oreos. He knew how desperate I was and he drove a hard bargain. At least give me props for confessing my awesome parenting skills in times of duress.

Moving on....we ended the week with a fun trip to Lagoon. We hadn't been this year and the kids were crying in their sleep for bumper cars, sky rides and roller coasters. Favorite Uncle R scrounged up some freebies and we got to go with them. Now there is somebody deserving of a whole package of oreos....

THE END.

Backyard Adventures

This has been the summer of the great divide. Dad and the boys go fun places and Mom and the girls stay home because frankly, leaving the house with Sydney isn't anybody's idea of a party. Hub, being the nice guy he is, felt badly about always leaving Noelle home. So last weekend he pitched the tent up in the backyard so she could have a pretend campout.

Noelle and Syd frolicking on everybody's sleeping bags

Everyone is so excited to be sleeping on the ground even though their cozy, comfy beds are just yards away in the house. Sneaky Hub was smart enough to haul a mattress outside to sleep on.

I had to reluctantly skip out on the backyard sleepover so I could hear Syd if she woke up in the night. Strangely, Hub didn't feel bad about not inviting Syd to his tent party.

Something about sleeping closely together and being in a tent makes our kids incredibly hyper. By the time everyone was actually contained in their sleeping bags and not giggling, Noelle was sufficiently tired enough to be freaked out that she wasn't in her own bed. At approximately 9:15 pm she called it quits and cried to go inside the house.

So once again.....Dad and the boys had a fun time sleeping in the tent while mom and the girls had to sleep in their own beds. Sometimes a great divide is what is best for everyone!

Got me some handy skills

School has started! Here is the mandatory picture of the first day of school. I threw Ethan in there even though kindergarteners don't start for another week.
See how happy they are? Now, nearly a week later, their faces would show a little less enthusiasm but that is why we don't show pictures captioned '7th day of school' etc.

Ike and Mitch have graduated to riding their bikes to school. This is especially important on early-out day (for those not in the loop, this means one day a week getting out 45 minutes early for teacher prep). How I would curse when I had to wake up nappers just to drive the five minutes to school to pick up kids. Throw on the aggressive driving from mommies in the pickup zone and you would find me in a less-than-sweet mood.

So imagine my distress when Ike came home with a flat tire. I quickly reviewed our schedule and knew we were going to be hard pressed to find time for Hub to fix it. Never fear. I'm home all day doin' nothing but eatin' bonbons and watching soaps. I think I can fix a tire and only give up one day of driving the kids to school.

Holy cow. I should have paid attention to Hub all those times he did it. Or maybe I could have called him for instructions. But asking for help is for wussies. So I pulled out from my memory bank the times I watched my dad fix the tires on my purple Fancy Free bike with the cute basket on front. The tools I remember him using were a screwdriver and a bucket of water and the patch stuff. The screwdriver was for pulling the tire away from the inner tube. At least it worked that way for my dad. It wasn't working for me. I made lots and lots of guttural noises and muttered some oaths and Ethan started saying, "Maybe we should just wait for dad to come home...." and I kept on yelling, "No, I can do this!"and I was on the grass wrestling with that freakin' tire and finally I gave up and googled a video on how to change it. Did you know there is an actual tool you can use to pull the tire away from the rim? And it's not a screwdriver?? And Hub had one in his handy little bike kit in the garage? That Ethan had to tell me about? Fast forward hours later and I have successfully discovered there was not even a hole in the tire and we should have just tried pumping it in the first place. And the best part was that I had to drive to school to pick up the boys and left the nut/bolty things on the van bumper and forgot about them. Somehow I was blessed (because I didn't use very many bad words?) and the nuts stayed on the bumper the whole trip. This was a grand experience and I hope to repeat it very soon. But it's early out day tomorrow and we have two functioning bikes so I ain't complaining.

Tragedy in Suburbia

Ethan wanted to earn some extra money. He quickly realized that 'earning' money by doing extra work was going to be impossible since he can't even quite finish the chores he doesn't get paid for. So like all smart kids, he decided to try to sell some of his junk in his own private yard sale while hardly lifting a finger.

He chose some nice toys that I quickly made him return to his room, but gladly let him try to sell his baggie of Lake Powell sea shells, a set of Uno cards so tiny a mouse could use them and a squirt gun that doesn't work.

I watched lots of seasons of The Apprentice so I felt very competent in helping him set his prices and think of ways to attract customers....
Like having a cute girl dance curbside in cowboy boots.

Sadly, or luckily for all the moms in the 'hood, this wasn't a day for a lot of foot traffic and I didn't let him go door to door to peddle. We left his stuff outside while he came in for food and play. Awhile later he checked on his goods only to run inside and say, "Mom, Mom! Somebody bought some stuff!" He was very excited but then he said, "They just forgot to leave their money!" Sure enough, his water gun and the Uno cards were missing. The worst thing was that he was also missing a hidden baggy of change. He'd put it under the picnic table in case he had to make change for a large bill (his optimism was so sweet). I honestly didn't mind someone taking a couple toys we didn't really want but to steal Ethan's actual money was a whole 'nother ballgame.
Ethan was sad. But Isaac and I were mad. Isaac made some comments about catching who did it and punching him in the head (violence is often a great solution for a 9-year-old boy). I tried to think of ways it could not be stolen, but for three items to be missing at once was a little too coincidental.
Later I actually saw the stolen water gun in the front yard of a home while going on a walk with Syd. Hub gladly did the dirty work of knocking on the door as soon as he also saw one of the puny Uno cards on their porch (not the best criminal eh?) and we got an apology and an assurance to try to scrounge up the missing money.
The moral of the story is that I love to live in la-la land. Hub is always trying to get me to lock the car, not leave my purse in the car, lock the house, etc... I just don't like to think that anyone would like to commit a crime in my vicinity. And a kid stealing money left unattended in my front yard doesn't have to mean I live in the ghetto. But maybe it means that we don't have to unnecessarily tempt people who haven't yet mastered right and wrong.
This thief was old enough to know better, but he was still a kid. I'll get over my anger and am showing my willingness to forgive by not telling Isaac who it was. I don't want anyone to get punched in the head in my neighborhood.