Chasing Beans

Look!

2012-02-10T09:34:00.000-08:00

Look, Melanie! I took pictures of my food! Aren't you proud?

I only took a picture of these eggs to document my fabulous and frivilous time-waster. They were a lot of work and tasted the same as any other old egg. Won't be doing them again, but at least got a picture to show that I did.

Oh, and I also took a picture of this.

He is being a rebel with his hair. He wants to leave it long.

I want to cringe.

Still cute...even with a porcupine sitting on his head.

Mountain Out of a Mole Hill

2012-01-27T08:38:00.000-08:00

I have inherited many a great quality from my family tree. One of them being moles. And lots of them. I can't panic about moles 'cause I'd have an ulcer. So, I have resigned myself to the obvious...make sure they are all behaving themselves, not growing, changing...and definitely...no new ones.

Well, I found a new one.

Before gracing the sweet girls at our bank with my early, early visit, I decided to make myself a little less scary and put on some make-up. As I sat applying my face while belting out to some Little Texas, I saw a speck out of the corner of my eye.

There was a new mole on my ear.

Gulp.

I have to admit, it made my heart skip a beat. I reached up to rub my ear in investigation of this new found speck.

It smeared.

Apparently, some of the Muddy Buddys that I had snuck for breakfast found their way to my ear lobe.

I {heart} my chocolate mole.

What will you let make your day today? ;)

It's Great To Be Eight

2012-01-06T14:52:00.000-08:00

Eight random things I love about this 8-year old:

I love his hands. There is something adorable about his hands; the way they move, the way he expresses himself with them.

I love that he still holds my hand...in public. His principal was agog when he caught Chase not only holding my hand...in the cafeteria, but also sending me off with a kiss and an "I love you"...in front of his friends. The principal told me to cherish that. I do.

I love that he his named after his Grandpa Glenn. I really, REALLY love that.

I love that this boy watched nearly all of the Harry Potter movies, scary parts and all, without even flinching. The only time he covered his face with a blanket? The kissing parts. LOVE that!

I love how you catch him making a crooked "yikes" face when reading family scriptures and he has to say a "bad" word.

I love how he is a perfectly, down-the-middle, fifty-fifty, Even-Steven split between his dad and I. So far, that makes him a shy, Lego-loving, tool-toting, snoring, football-loving carnivore, perfectly blended with the crafty, goofy, outgoing, dramatic, holiday tradition observing extraordinaire, with a pretty great sense of humor. Sounds pretty fabulous...right?

I love to hear him pray. If you have ever heard him pray, you know what I mean.

I love it when he giggles. It seems especially cute when it is done at a most inappropriate time. Darn it.

I love that he is a rule follower. He takes doing what is right pretty seriously...most of the time. Let's be honest. He is a kid. And a boy. 'Nuff said.

I love that there are so many things to love about this boy that I can't stop at eight. There is just too much to love about him. But, most especially, I love that he is MY boy.

I SERIOUSLY love that.

Accomplishments

2011-11-28T12:57:00.000-08:00

Before I attempt to catch up on an entire summer and fall in picture and word, let me attempt to tell you of another accomplishment.

I have managed to pull off every woman's nightmare. I've seen it done in Hollywood, but nothing in Hollywood is real. No one actually does such embarrassing stuff in real life. I know stuff like this happens, just not to me.

Until yesterday.

I was in a hurry to get to church yesterday. Procrastination from the night before had me all a-flutter to get to the church on time. I paraded in front of my husband, and the mirror, gave myself a semi-passing grade, then flew out the door.

As I barrelled into the parking lot, a quick survey of the scene found only a good friend helping his family out of the van, and a rather shy church member heading for the front door. I rushed to the door, in too much of a hurry to say hello to my friend. I arrived at the door the same time the shy man did. He being the gentleman that he is, opened the door for me. I gushed a thank you in a dramatic flurry toward the chapel. I rushed up to the front, breathing a heavy hello to the handful of choir members already seated in the stand, pretty proud of the fact that I was "on time", which is translated to say that I was late, just not as late as everyone else.

As I gathered my overly dramatic wits about me while setting up at my post at the piano, I chatted with another friend who was already seated in the choir seats. Seeing that I had a few seconds to spare, I headed back down the stairs to put my bag on "our" bench to save it for my family who would come later. Upon turning around, my friend gasped.

The back of my skirt was tucked up in my panty hose.

Crap.

I began doing what most of us do when faced with absolute mortification. I acted all nonchelant as a I reconned my rogue piece of clothing, then mentally retraced my steps from my van to the church to take mental note of the poor souls that had been unfairly mooned on their way to church.

I was instantly horrified to remember some poor choices that I had made that morning. You know thekind. The kind of choices that you feel silly about making, but choices that shouldn't have any consequences, nonetheless. Like when you choose not too shave your legs above the knee,or to wear pantyhose shredded beyond recognition, not really caring 'cause who is going to see up your skirt anyway?

Yeah.

Those choices.

I then thought of my poor friend unloading his family in the parking lot. And the poor unsuspecting do-gooder just trying to be nice, not realizing that volunteering to open my door meant standing behind my bare behind.

I am pretty sure I wasn't imagining things when neither of those men made eye contact with me that morning. Apparently one shot of your bare derriere does an uncomfortable moment make.

Sigh.

When I finally got to go sit down with my family, my husband got a little reproach for not being a better detail checker. He sympathetically snorted and chuckled as I told him my terrible tale. My son just looked at me in horrible disbelief.

"Oh, Mom. I am soooo sorry", was all he could muster.

His was the only genuine sentiment I would receive for the rest of the day.

I have been blessed with such sympathetic friends.

A Little Less Gross

2011-07-09T22:20:00.000-07:00

Wow. If I didn't post for any other reason, it would be having a picture better to stare at than a big hair ball on the floor.

Sorry, folks.

For the last day of school, I got to bring homemade (I know...GASP!) treats to school to share with Chase's class. I found these ADORABLE cookies on familyfun.com.

Uh, CUH-YOOT!! Of course, they were slightly more adorable on line. But, only SLIGHTLY.

Oysters with raisin pearls. Not my favorite, just cute-ish, I guess.

These? Oh, yeah. THESE were my favorite! With every pair of flip-fl0ps, I cooed and gushed. They just kept getting cuter and cuter.

The "beach towel" and brown sugar sand finished out the look.

They were a big hit...to say the least.

A Little Gross

2011-05-19T21:43:00.000-07:00

I was organizing my 2011 pictures and came across this one. Eweeeuuu.

When I got my haircut in January, I cut off 14 inches. No, I was not able to donate it. I still had an old perm in it...which puts a big "don't" on my do.

Just felt like sharin'.

Spring Break

2011-05-19T11:43:00.000-07:00

For spring break this year, we stole one of Chase's good buddies and headed to Salt Lake to the Gateway Children's museum. We chose to go on what could arguably be the busiest day of the year for the museum, and the worst day for driving conditions. All that aside, we had a great time. If you have ever been there, you know all of the fun things that they have for kiddles to do;

play newscasters

do the weather in front of a green screen (this was actually quite funny. I about wet my pants at how funny these two (and some random child) were being)

this, whatever this is called

build structures on an "earthquake" plate

fly a rescue helicopter.

Whatever it is we did, it tuckered them out. They slept on the way home...which was kind of a blessing for me as it was white-knuckle driving with the pouring, driving rain.

All in all, we had a great little break from school and work. Chase and I nearly shed tears when we said our good-byes at the school on Monday. Always so dramatic!

All I can say is...

Summer Vacation...here we come!!

Fun Changes

2011-05-16T10:53:00.000-07:00

This probably won't matter a hill of beans to anyone. Just thought I'd record it anyway for posterity sake...and for the slight chance that anyone might think it's as cool as I do.

Being a piano player, and being an LDS (Latter Day Saint) piano player at that, means that I will play the piano in church until my dying day. I have had very few opportunities to do much else by way of service (callings) for our church. I have had the opportunity to play the organ, lead the choir, play the piano, lead the singing, direct the children's music, play the children's music, play the piano for the choir...off and on since I was 16. I don't mind it. I enjoy music. And I enjoy serving.

Sometimes, I would like to do more. I have had a few callings here and there that have not involved music...and I have LOVED them.

So, a few months ago, a full-time missionary for our church who was visiting our home put the bug into my ear about serving as ward missionary...which means serving a mission here in our own ward, or neighborhood. I started to get really excited, I mean pants-on-fire-excited about the prospect of being able to do this. On Easter, I got my wish and was called to serve as a ward missionary.

Can I tell you how much I am loving this? My missionary companion, Amy Gray, and I are having the time of our lives. There is SO much to do. We have a mission leader in our ward who has caught fire with the missionary work available in our ward...our bishop (ward leader) has caught the fire...the other leaders of the other groups in our ward have caught the fire. I feel like we get to eat, drink and breath missionary work, without leaving the country for 2 years. What could be more fun than that!

I still have my other assignments as ward organist and choir pianist, but am SO thrilled to be a part of something that I am becoming so passionate about. My parents are both amazing missionaries. They have been for most of their lives. They lead their lives with love, example, and a desire to share the gospel that they love with all they come in contact with.

Uh, can I be like them when I grow up?

This opportunity is a least helping me get my foot in the door to at least try!

Anyway, fun stuff ahead. Just thought I'd share!

Stubborn Streak

2011-05-13T15:43:00.000-07:00

Chase and I have been taking some jaunts down Memory Lane. We have been having a lot of fun watching videos of Chase as an adorable little boy. I don't know what my favorite part has been; watching these super cute videos, or Chase's reaction when he says, "Oh my gosh! I was so adorable!"

This video of my then two and a half year old melts my heart. I have played it over and over, and over. It is so funny how it shows that great stubborn streak in my boy.

Finally, after my 101st replay of this video, I finally figured out from where he gets his stubborn streak.

I guess I'm a little slow...and a little stubborn.

Feed Me

2011-05-11T09:33:00.000-07:00

Uggg. Me want food.

Can I just say how much I love boys? They are different creatures, that's for sure. They are definitely wired different than we women folk. Maybe that is a little of why I think they are so great.

I have to say that I love these boys a teensy extra bit more. The top pics are of a rib fest Jeff did for his young men at our shop, along with our bishop and other YM leaders. Notice the absense of plates.

Not an accident.

We.have.amazing.young.men.in.our.ward. We love them...we are so proud of them.

The bottom pic? When I came out from getting ready for bed, after having sent this handsome cave-boy-born-in-a-barn to get his p-jays on, this is what I saw.

When asked why I was being treated to such a vision, his simple retort was only,

"Well, I was still hungry!"

Ahh.

Carry on, then...by all means.

St Patrick's

2011-05-10T01:03:00.000-07:00

Apparently, I am only comfortable with being a couple months behind in blogging.

One of my favorite things to do for my green-sportin' cutie for St. Paddy's is a fruit (and I use that term loosly) rainbow with a dipping pot at rainbow's end. Chase forgot all about this tasty treat he was to come home to. When he came through the door, he gasped, then said,

"Oh, THANK YOU, Mom! I seriously think I'm going to cry!"

Yeah, I'm good.

And, yes, I do realize that pound for pound, the fruit/chocolate ratio is a little off. Your tears of joy are completely founded, Son.

My Sincerest Apologies, Erma Bombeck

2011-04-08T08:31:00.000-07:00

To say that I have been busy lately may be a bit of an understatement. I have had to reevaluate my necessity to have my home in a constant meticulous state. My apologies to any of you who have been in my home lately and felt your skin crawl as you fought the urge to bolt back out the door. But,as painful as the adjustment may have started out, I think I have adjusted rather well. {smile}

Apparently, I have grown too comfortable in my new slovenly ways.

During a week long cleaning spree, Chase and I walked around admiring our handiwork. Chase went in my room, stopped short, with mouth agape, starring at my bed,

"WHOA! Mom! Your bed is so...so...so SMOOTH!"

Yes, Son. That is called a "made bed". Weird, I know. For my next trick, I'll show you how to remove that fuzzy, dusty stuff off of the tables and shelves. Then again, maybe I won't. After all, a house really isn't a home until you can write "I Love You" on the furniture, right?

Driving Momma

2011-03-30T22:22:00.000-07:00

It's migraine time again. I seem to have about two weeks on...three or four weeks off. It's getting old. It hurts. It's a serious pain in the...well, head.

The other day, Chase came home from school only to be slightly disappointed, again, to find his otherwise fun Mom curled up in a headache ball. After trying to "sleep" it off for about an hour or so, I was finally able to drag my carcass out of bed so Chase and I could run the errand we were waiting to run.

As we were backing out of the garage, I found myself apologizing to my sweet little boy that weathers my incapacitation pretty well. Mixed in the middle of my apologies was some lovely whining;

"...and I am just really sorry, Buddy. I just can't seem to kick this one. It really hurts."

My sweet little seven-year old pipes up from the back seat,

"Do you need me to drive, Mom?"

You Saw What?

2011-03-26T07:53:00.000-07:00

Chase came running into my room the other day, shouting;

"Mom! That Columbus is totally gone!"

uh, pardon me?

"What is totally gone?"

"That Columbus!"

"Are you saying 'Columbus'?"

"Yes!"

"I'm sorry, honey. I just have no idea what that means."

"You know, that big, dark rain cloud that was sitting over our house!"

"Oh, you mean the cumulonimbus?"

"Yeah, the Cumumublemumble"

After being so cuted-out by this conversation, I tried to start it up again while riding in the car;

"Chase, look at that! It is so big, and dark, and looks like it's ready to burst! What is that called again?"

Chase then shot me a look that accused me of getting my degree out of a cracker-jack box...a look that proves every child's theory that their parents know nothing. Then he stated,

"Uh, a rain cloud."

We All Have Our Weaknesses, I Guess

2011-03-23T12:34:00.001-07:00

Last night as we were driving home from Parent/Teacher conferences, I handed Chase the 11 box tops that I have been collecting. He said,"11 box tops...that's $1.10 in dollars. Sweet. We just donated $1.10 to my school."

I thought that was pretty fast calculation on the part of his 7 year-old brain. I turned around and gave him that look. You know that look. It's the look that says, "How did you know that? You must be the most amazing, intelligent, fabulously fabulous little boy that has ever walked the planet!"

Apparently, he has seen that look from me a few times. He volunteered,

"Well, I KNOW my money. BUT...I DON'T know how to juggle."

Uh...random.

Well, Little Buddy, I don't know how to make a spoon stick to my nose...if that makes you feel any better.

Sweet 16

2011-03-19T14:56:00.000-07:00

I am going to break formation in my chronologies here to wish my favorite team a

GO! FIGHT! WIN!!

We are happy fans right about now. I hope we are this happy in a few hours.

GO, COUGARS!

My dad treated us to the last home game for the Cougars against Wyoming. It was electrifying. Seriously. It was such a good game. The energy among the fans and the team was palpable. It didn't hurt that we won, I guess.

Thanks for a fabulous time, Grandma and Grandpa!

Jimmer Fredette.

Jimmer Fredette fan.

My brother, Clark, and Cosmo

Chase and his favorite Grandma

One of the world's biggest Cougar fans, a super grandpa, oh, and Noah Hartsock.

Seriously, Cougars...make us proud today!!

Christmas 2010

2011-03-15T09:04:00.000-07:00

Okay. This is my last bit of journal catch up for 2010.

Finally.

Our sweet friends, the Rawsons, treated us to a trip to Salt Lake on the Front Runner, a ride to dinner on Trax, and another Trax ride to Temple Square to see the lights. What a fun night! I have lived in Utah since 1993 and this is only the second time I have ever been to see the lights on Temple Square.

Yes. I live under a rock.

We had a really great time (thank you sooo much, Rawson family!) We brought along my neice and nephew, Kaylee and Riley. Trax and the Front Runner were a super big hit.

For Christmas, we begged my sister and brother-in-law to come with their two babies. This was a huge thing to ask them since this was the babies first Christmas. They were so fabulous to oblige us. The babies seemed to have an agenda all their own, however. They both brought a stomach bug with them. If nothing else, it slowed down the pace of Christmas morning.

A very excited seven year-old had to wait for three sleep deprived adults to drag their carcases out of bed before he was allowed in to see what Santa had brought him. Once the present opening finally commenced, we would do one round of presents, then have to stop to put one baby to bed, get one baby out of bed, clean up sprinkler vomit, etc. Good times.

Seriously.

We were so excited to share Christmas with them. Who wouldn't be? Are they not just the cutest? I mean, really. The worst part of all of it was when Kirk and Heather announced to us that they had to pull the plug on our fun and took their sick babies home. We were NOT ready for them to go.

We had an amazing Christmas, to say the least. There was such a peaceful feeling in our home. We were so blessed by so many miracles. We have such an amazing family that loves us and takes such good care of us. We have the most amazing friends and ward family that leave us in complete awe. We are truly some of the most lucky people on earth.

Thank you for truly amazing Christmas!

Dear Santa...

2011-03-04T06:27:00.000-08:00

Every year, Chase writes Santa. Every year, Mom "sends" the letter...via her scrapbook pile. This system seems to work out fine.

This year, Chase wrote Santa. This year, Chase exercises his independence. Chase puts the letter in the mail box. Mom reminds herself to retrieve the letter later that night when Chase is asleep. Mom forgets. Mom calls friend who works at post office. Mom is comforted when told that a cute little lady sits in the back of the post office answering Santa letters for all the kiddies. Comfort turns to sadness when Mom and friend realize that Chase did not put a return address on his letter. Mom's heart breaks everyday her boy runs to the mailbox...sure that this is the day he would be receiving his letter from Santa. Obvious disappointment follows. Hope returns when friend suggests that Mom write her own letter from Santa for her sweet little boy. Mom pens an amazing letter, obtains a frilly signature from a sweet friend, places letter in mailbox, sits back and watches...

Another round goes to the Momma.

Just Keep Talking

2011-02-23T20:36:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to blog a little tribute to my favorite little seven year old, before moving on with the rest of my blogging.

Can I just tell you how amazing I think this boy is? He makes my day. He makes my whole world. I think he is one of the funniest, sweetest, most amazing seven year old. I love him. A lot.

I love it when this boy talks. Most of the time. There are times when I think my ears might bleed from all of the talking that this child can produce. But most of the time, I love it. There are times when I think, "just keep talking". I love some of the stuff that comes out of his mouth.

He amazes me with how quickly he learns. Reading, math, piano, science...he loves to learn. When I compliment him on a job well done, he casually comments, "It's cuz it was 'pie' " as in "as easy as". He has been known to bill himself as a "genius". Confidence is good...right?

He loves big words (I have noooo clue where he would get that from!). He has a knack for making up his own words. Not silly, nonsense words. Words that seem to make complete sense...in their own made up way. The other day, he picked up my fingernail file and tried filing his nails. He exclaimed, "How can you do this to your nails? It gives my whole body the frizzles!" I found myself using the word "frizzles" while telling my husband a story the other day. Works for me.

He makes holidays and special days even more fun. He takes traditions very seriously. He loves to have fun and fun things to look forward to. He is all about having fun.

He doesn't know what he wants to be when he grows up. He has heard me say so many times that he can grow up to be anything he wants to be that he is leaving his options wide open. He changes his mind every week. I just listen with an open mind...making sure to give extra excitement to the "better" ideas that he offers{wink}{wink} We had an extended conversation about being an astronaut. Our chat about driving garbage trucks flew by rather quickly.

He gets concerned when he thinks a child doesn't have anything to eat at school. He feels really bad when he thinks of a child going hungry. Food is everything to this kid. He is growing so fast that it takes a whole lotta fuel to keep him going. He planned FHE on Monday, right down to the request for homemade cinnamon rolls for dessert. When he tore into his first hot roll, he deliriously said, "Oh, my gosh. I think I'm going to faint". You're welcome, buddy.

He keeps a Book of Mormon tucked in his bed. He reads it every night. He has been asking us some pretty deep questions lately. He loves the gospel, yet holds on to the idea that three hours of church is a little lengthy for a growing boy who doesn't like to sit still.

He is a pretty fabulous kid. I am biased, I guess.

You can't blame me, right?

Seven? Seven? Did I Say You Could Be Seven?

2011-02-07T14:58:00.000-08:00

Seriously. Where does time go? I swear, my little boy was just a baby. I am NOT okay with him being so OLD.

Jeff and I think we are so clever. Hehe. We feel the need to show off our skills every time Chase's birthday rolls around. This birthday was no exception.

We designed his cake for weeks. We put our two brains together and came up with the most amazing battleship cake ever known to man. We made an outrageously large batch of rice crispy treats, a large sheet cake, cupcakes colored in the colors of battleship game markers...then set out to earn our badges of "Bestest Mom and Dad in the Whole-Wide-World".

Pretty fabulous, right?

In the night, gravity set in. Somebody sunk our battleship.

Pft. We planned it that way.

Coolest Mom and Dad in the World.

We had a few friends and cousins over to help celebrate this blessed event. We played human battleship and ate our weight in sunken battleship.

A sweet birthday for a sweet boy.

Next...

2011-02-05T09:03:00.000-08:00

...on the catch up....Thanksgiving.

I have absolutely no pictures of Thanksgiving. We were too busy playing Canasta, cooking for the masses, clogging our arteries, and having a good 'ol time. My brother, Jeremy, and his family came to spend the holiday with us. Lots of noise...lots of fun.

That next weekend, we headed to Provo to install bathroom cabinets in my sister, Heather's house. She was so sweet to plan a little early birthday party with my other siblings and fams for Chase. She made gingerbread cookies for the all the kids to decorate, a yummy lunch, and scrumptious cupcakes.

Thanks, Heather!

Good Natured Fun

2011-02-03T15:03:00.000-08:00

Our neighbors across the street are some serious Aggie fans. We, as you may know, quite prefer the other blue and white team...BYU.

I honestly enjoy being a Cougar fan in Aggie country. The reactions we get are across the board. We endure a lot of ribbing for our choice of affiliation. But, the rivalry we have with our friends across the street, is my most favorite of all.

On the day of the BYU/Aggie football game in the fall, they snuck across the street and hung their game day "A" flag up our flag pole. We made a paper flag of our own with a large "Y" on it and hung it on their porch. They did to our flag what their team did to ours that day. They shredded it. They returned our work of art in a plastic bag...shredded into a million pieces. Sigh.

Late one night, Chase and I snuck onto their porch and dressed the Halloween witch on their porch in one of my very old BYU shirts. It stayed there for two days before they noticed. They were mortified at how long it had been there.

I was delighted.

On the night of the BYU/Aggie basketball game, they made a basketball player out of my old shirt, slapped the name Jimmer on it, and hung it up our flagpole, and hung their "A" game flag across our front door. I laughed.

I laughed even more when we won that night.

I made posters to string on a line with their "A" flag. The posters read:

"Getting beat by BYU must be such a pain in the "A"

A little on the inappropriate side.

Very much on the funny side.

They were such good sports. They left it up for a whole day so the neighbors could see our handiwork.

So nice.

Such good friends.

Go, Cougars!!

At It Again

2011-02-01T23:29:00.000-08:00

Plodding along in the catch up.

Have I lost you yet? Are you hanging in there?

I just couldn't help myself. I had to make a few more crafts. Just 'cause I was thinking that three totes per season/holiday wasn't enough, is all.

I am truly obsessed.

Sorry about the bad lighting. Still using my dinosaur of a camera.

I loved these jars so much that we left them up through Christmas. We can give thanks in December, right?

Anyway, I thought they turned out pretty cute.

Thanks for humoring me.

Crazy Hair Day

2011-01-30T21:47:00.000-08:00

Oh, man. We had a lot of fun with this one.

The day of the Fall (Halloween) party at Chase's school was also crazy hair day. The kids weren't allowed to wear costumes to school, but they were allowed to let loose with their locks. Chase was desperately in need of a hair cut, so we took a few liberties.

You can't tell by this picture, but there is a plus sign shaved into his head. He was so proud, to say the least.

He would not let me shave it until Sunday.

Except for looking like a victim of some kind of an attack, it was pretty cute. I completely admire his confidence. I mean, seriously, how many of us could pull off this look?

Gettin' There

2011-01-26T20:06:00.000-08:00

Looking at these pictures of Chase carving his pumpkin makes me smile from head to toe. First of all, last year, he "carved" his pumpkin with both hands completely wrapped in gauze from his burns. Last fall was a tough one.

Second of all, this child has an unusual obsession with sitting on this island. I cannot tell you how many pictures I have of this cutie sitting on this countertop.

He's seven.

He still does it.

I find it very funny.

I have a child that is very comfortable sticking his finger up his nose. It makes perfect sense that a gourd + hole in face = gourd stuck in hole in face. I liked this art display so much that I left it on the porch a little longer than I should have. Looking closely at the picture, you can see it is way past it's prime.

Oh, and I bottled tomatoes for the first time in my life. Don't know how we found the time, but I sure felt domestic. And, might I say...YUM!

Halloween

2011-01-23T23:43:00.000-08:00

Oh, I love being so far behind in blogging.

Grrrr.

For Halloween this year, my mom and dad came with my neice and nephew, Anna and Jack. They had been tending these two babes while Kirk and Heather were on a cruise. After a few days, they ended up in Logan. What a treat. So cute!

We threw the babies in old costumes, so Heather could see proof of their babies first Halloween. Other than that, the whole day zoomed past them.

Chase was Toad from the Mario Brothers. Can I tell you....I have now problem with store bought costumes. None, whatsoever. I would looooove to buy Chase a store bought costume. His creative nature needing homemade costumes are kicking my trash! That Toad hat about put me in an early grave. Don't enlarge the photo and look too closely. You will gag at my tremendous costume making ability. Seriously.

The stunning little witch is one of our favorite friends down the street. Obviously, her mother has a good grasp on putting together a stellar costume.

After all was said and done, it did turn out pretty cute. It held up to the pouring rain that accompanied our marathon trick or treating.

I better start planning for this year. Who knows what this handsome harry will have me banging out in 9 short months.

Next...

2011-01-18T22:09:00.000-08:00

Flag football.

This kid has been wanting to play football for the past few years. This fall, he was finally old enough.

He has decided that he wants to play for the BYU Cougars so Grandpa can come to see all of his games. Great idea...in theory. This boy would have to take the game a little more seriously to play for real. He had so much fun with football. Too much fun. He was so silly on the field.
His coach was so patient with those silly boys.

Chase has dabbled in a few sports during his few short years. Football has been his favorite, I think.

It will change next week.

Go Cougars!

2011-01-15T20:43:00.000-08:00

Since I was such a blog-slacker last year, I have been tempted to do one massive "here you are...in your face...take it all at once...recap of 2010. But seriously, you would dislike reading that post as much as I would dislike making it. So, I spare us all.

Instead, I have decided to go back a few months and pick some highlights to highlight one at a time. Yay for you!

In the midst of such a wierd Summer and Fall, we did manage to have some good times. Going back to October, we had the fun experience of going to a BYU football game in Provo. With Chase playing on a football team for the first time, Grandpa mentioned to Chase that it would be fun to take him to a BYU football game. Now, if you ask a child to go to his room to put away his clothes, memory loss occurs somewhere between point A and point B. BUT, if Grandpa nonchalantly says he might want to take you to a ball game, he has the memory of an elephant. He kept reminding Grandpa during the football season and was delighted when he made good on his promise and invited us to a game in October.

We had a very fun time. Birgitta and Zach were able to come, making it even more fun for an already excited Chase. It was really fun to see Chase's reaction to the whole thing. He understood what a fun thing this was for his Grandpa to do for him.

So, thanks, Grandma and Grandpa for such a fun treat. We had a really great time. It didn't hurt that we beat San Diego that day as well.

Thanks for the fun memories!

Is it just me...

2011-01-10T20:05:00.000-08:00

Or is that picture of my little reindeer up top one of the cutest pictures on the planet? Seriously! Every time I log on to my blog (which unfortunately is not that often anymore) that picture comes on and tickles me pink. Ahhh. I love it.

Now, how do I get myself to take it off and move on from Christmas?

New Year Resolutions

2011-01-08T23:20:00.000-08:00

New Year, Schmoo Year.

I have knocked myself out every Jan 1 trying to think of all the things that I just KNOW I am going to be better at. I have even gone as far as to write them down...set a plan...all the good stuff. This year, I decided to try something different.

I poo-pooed the resolutions.

I am having FANTASTIC year so far.

It's all about perspective, Baby.

PS I am at least going to try to be somewhat more consistant in my posts. I have been reamed by a few people for falling off the planet. Now, notice I said I am making no resolve to better at anything. So, don't hold your breath.

I don't want to ruin a perfectly good start to a great year.

Our Morning Exercise Routine

2010-08-24T11:59:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of mysteries left unsolved everyday.

My mom just blogged about one of her's.

I have just solved one at our house. In fact, I have solved two. I will let you in on the other one in another post.

You should be very excited. It is amazing.

This video puts to rest one little mystery that had me mystified.

I could never understand why every morning, when I would go down to use the computer, the ottomans were all dishelved. When I would leave the computer, I would straighten them, only to come down and find them all over the place again the next morning.

Now, solving this mystery was not important to the salvation of mankind or anything close unto it. It was just a silly little routine I went through every morning with a little question mark hanging over my head.

All it took was one morning of spending time with my little man, instead of the computer.

Mystery solved.

Father's Day

2010-08-21T12:28:00.000-07:00

What?

Father's Day wasn't last week for you guys?

Not for us, either. I am just waaaaaay behind in my blogging/journaling.

I just wanted to share with you my proof that I am the most creative copycat around. And, not such a bad wife, either, I suppose.

The boy's card to his daddy.

"grilled" cupcakes from Family Fun.

So, here's to all you creative cats that lend such support to us copycats.

We sure do appreciate it.

Really.

And here is a shout out to my son's dad, and my dad. Even though all the mushy stuff was said over two months ago, and neither one of you will probably ever read this post, I still think you guys are pretty great. These last two months would have been unbearable without you both.

Happy Father's Day!

Again.

When I Grow Up...

2010-08-11T23:13:00.001-07:00

I want to be a six year old.

Seriously.

If you want an amazingly humorous and insightful outlook on life, really listen to a person that is six. They have life figured out. They are not trying to impress anyone. They just say it like it is.

Here are a few philosophies I have had the privilege of learning while observing the brilliantly adorable boy of six years who resides in my home;

*ON HEALTHY EATING

(after inquiring about why people have heart attacks)

"Well, I WAS planning on growing up and eating lots and lots of candy bars. But now? No Way!!"

*ON PERSPECTIVE

(after wiping his tears while dealing with a bedtime tummy ache)

"Well, I would much rather have a stomach ache than be dead."

*ON DIETARY RESTRICTIONS

(after scrunching his nose at the sight of mom's soup that looked less than appetizing to a kid with an upset tummy)

"I'm pretty sure that this stuff is not on the menu for sickies."

*ON FAIRNESS

(after his mommy punched his daddy while spotting a slug bug, mommy turned around punched the six year old. The six year old asks why mommy felt it was fair to punch two people with one bug. Mommy confesses she didn't want her bub in the back seat to feel left out.)

"It's okay, Mom. I want to be left out."

*ON HONESTY

(after being reminded to pay 20 cents tithing on the two dollars he has just earned)

"Uh, I don't even have 20 cents. I don't have any cents at all."

Okay...so that last one is not funny IN context. But, it sure is funny to hear someone say that they have no "sense".

Or at least I thought so.

If you want to have a good day today, act like a six-year old.

Come on.

I dare ya!

Do You Hear What I Hear?

2010-08-10T23:28:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I surfed onto the Oprah show at about 1 AM. Obviously, I was suffering from an unfortunate bout with insomnia. Not because I have to be tired out of my mind to be coerced into watching Oprah, but more for the fact that the pickin's start slimming after 12 AM.

I took pause from my mindless channel surfing long enough to listen to a very interesting author give an audience member some very interesting advice. Oprah's audience member wanted to know why she always wanted to overeat. The golden question of the century, I would think.

This author reminded the inquirer that she needed to listen to her body. What is her body trying to say if she were to listen? Is she full? Does she really want to eat another helping, or is she satisfied? Does she like how she feels right this very second, or does she want to risk feeling like crap after stuffing one more helping down the hatch? Is she really hungry, or just bored?

Very interesting questions, I thought to my temporarily interested self. If I were to listen carefully, what would I be hearing my body say?

So, as I sleepily began my day "later" that morning, I cranked up the hearing aids and began "listening" to my bod.

My body told me to eat a bag of chocolate chips, after it told me I was too tired to exercise.

Dang. I have a very bossy body.

The Nerve

2010-08-09T15:02:00.000-07:00

Holy Crap!

The near-daily blogger has taken a little time off, I see. You all have some nerve continuing to exist out there in the blog-o-sphere while I took a mini vacation from my creativity. Sheesh.

Today begins the first day of the rest of my life.

Whatever that means.

But seriously, I woke up this morning with a resolve to get back into my "swing" of things.

Again. Whatever that means.

I got my wood floor mopped today. If you have ever been in my house, you know I shot for the moon. There a lot of wood floor. And as far as I am concerned, I win. Add actually sitting to "pen" a quick blog and read about your summer, I TOTALLY win. Factor in the fact that I haven't showered, then I digress.

Let's just focus on the positive.

Window Shopping

2010-06-13T17:40:00.000-07:00

My son, giving new meaning to the term "Window Shopping".

Pedaling up and down the isles, dreaming .

This is the kind of fun play date you get to have with your mom, on a lazy, rainy afternoon, when the fundage is left out in the car...and you have exchanged pinky promises that there will be no melt downs when you come to the startling realization that your mom was dead serious when she said that there would be no purchasing of toys today.

Ahhh. Good times.

You Are Only As Old As You Feel...

2010-06-10T00:09:00.000-07:00

...or at least as old as you remember you are.

I was recently forced to celebrate a birthday. I have not been what you would call "gracious" about having to become "this age". This "f-word" birthday has not been such an easy pill to swallow. Thanks again, to all of you well-wishers and condolence-offerers. Your sympathy is much appreciated. I especially want to thank the one who felt the need to bestow Icy Hot and Colon Cleanser upon me. THAT'S going to help the cause. Not going to make me feel old...at all. And just to show you what a good sport I am, I am going to USE the colon cleanser. Ha! How do you feel about THAT!?

My fabulous, six and a half year old son was right beside me, showing me his undying support on my day of grief. It also happened to be his half-birthday. To commemorate the blessed event, he ate six and a half pancakes. I ate...three.

To further show his firm grasp on my reality, my handsome son gave me some sound advice. During the car ride to his baseball game tonight, he exclaimed,

"Oh, my gosh! I TOTALLY forgot you are f**** today! I can't believe it! Can you believe it?"

I tried to summon my mature f**** year old side to respond. I couldn't find her. Instead, I whined and replied,

"No! It KILLS me to even think about being f****!"

My wise-one replied,

"Well then...don't. Okay? Just don't THINK about being f****. Maybe that will make you feel better. Okay?"

Okay, Son. Works for me. And maybe I can get the reverse to work while I'm at it.

I'm only 28...I'm only 28...I'm only 28...I'm only 28

When Will They LEARN!!

2010-06-01T14:34:00.000-07:00

I think that it is very safe to say that this will be the most beautiful picture that you will see all day.

There. Hope it MAKES your day.

Let me explain.

The picture doesn't completely show that I have three, perfectly spaced burns on the inside of both my lower, and upper lips. What would be your guess as to how I ended up with such perfect imperfections on my face?

A fork.

'Cause I have brain damage.

On Sunday, we had a hankerin' for some S'Mores. Being the Sabbath and all, we "toasted" our marshmallows in a more conservative manner. On forks...over a gas burner. Worked like a charm.

We know now why they make the end of marshmallow toasting sticks look so unappealing. You try and resist the urge to suck the ooey, gooey, marshmallow-y goodness, dripping off the end of a fork.

Can't do it.

I grimaced through the electric shock of the searing tines on my lips. I made not even a peep. Just kept right on eating my ghetto S'More.

What makes this story even more painfully funny? Not even three minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, I see Jeff jump out of his seat and grab his glass of ice water.

Told ya.

Can't resist the fork.

In Memoriam...Timmy the Caterpiller

2010-05-29T11:02:00.000-07:00

Timmy

Born: undetermined Died: undetermined
Short-term resident of Chase's porch

Timmy was a black and orange caterpillar. He was found by Chase.
Chase built him a home with a lasagna pan, some grass and dirt, and a custom bed. It only took a couple of escape attempts before Timmy was content to live in his pan.

Timmy was a good caterpillar, and a good pet. He did not make a single mess in Chase's house. He did not leave any "gifts" on Chase's front yard. He was incredibly inexpensive to feed, dining on leaves from Chase's tree, they think. He provided Chase and other neighbor kids with many wonderful minutes of oohing and aahing, staring, and poking.

Timmy, in his fluffy prime

Timmy's aluminum home

Timmy was survived by what Chase and the other kids thought was a baby caterpillar found in Timmy's home. Turns out it was just an emaciated Timmy. He had shrunk to less than half his normal size. If it weren't so sad, it would be very funny.

Farewell, Timmy. Rest in...pieces.

Black Widow Strikes Again

2010-05-26T17:20:00.001-07:00

About a year ago, I told Chase that his pet frog was dead. Turns out, it wasn't. However, two weeks later, Froggy did kick the bucket when we held a toilet-side service and sent him off with a one-flush salute.

About a week ago, I told Chase that his pet caterpillar, Timmy, was dead. Turns out he wasn't dead either. Chase told me the next morning that Timmy must have just been scared of me. Could have been fear, 'cause today...Timmy's really dead.

So, as it turns out, I am usually right. Just a little too fast.

Caterpillar obituary to follow soon.

Honesty

2010-05-23T21:29:00.000-07:00

C: What color are Pinky's eyes? (stuffed animal from my own childhood)

M: Well, they are mostly brown, I think. They are kind of brown and kind of green.

C: What color are my eyes?

M: A BEAUTIFUL brown. I love your big brown eyes. What color are my eyes?

C: Well, they are mostly green, a little bit of brown, and a lot of red.

M: (spoken while sliding off bed into prayer position) They are red because I am so tired. I am so tired that I am done being a mommy for tonight.

C: (spoken through a groggy yawn) Yeah. I'm too tired to be Chase anymore tonight, too. Good night, Mommy. Love you. See you in the morning.

CPA

2010-05-21T19:05:00.001-07:00

While I was at "work" the other day, this Cutie-Patootie Angel-boy donned a pair of his dad's protective eye-glasses, stole the last cookie out of his dad's private stash, and began crunching some some numbers while crunching his cookie.

Is it just me, or is this CPA just a titch on the adorable side?

Accidental Dentals

2010-05-19T06:53:00.000-07:00

In my previous post, a before shot of Chase's hair could be better served as an after shot of Chase's tooth-capade. Chase has lost 5 teeth since October. His teeth seem to be in a hurry to exit his little mouth. Either that, or we seem to have found a near barbaric, yet seemingly effective method of extracting teeth.

His last three exiting teeth have been "punched" out. Literally.

#3 by Dad's elbow during a tickle fight

#4 by a neighbor's elbow during a, uh, well, whatever it is that boys do

#5 by a friend's elbow during a wrestling match

#5 was pretty sad for Chasers. After an FHE activity with some friends, Chase took a blow to the face while wrestling with their kids. The tooth was gone. The grass received a pat down by six sets of hands...in the dark. Chase was pretty tearful at the thought of losing his lost tooth, until we offered a more romantic end to his tiny pearl. Instead of it being lost forever in the grass, maybe he swallowed it. Yeah, he swallowed it. A much better story. Tears stopped immediately.

At bedtime, a simple letter of explanation was written to the Bringer of Money:

Dier tooth fery

I lost my tooth when I waz resling with my frens

luv Chase

I just have to say, the Tooth Fairy really loves this little boy.

Oh, and if you need help removing any loose teeth from your children, stop on by. We'll start a fight on the front lawn. Results guaranteed.

Patches

2010-05-17T22:01:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, this handsome dude came out of nowhere and asked me to make him bald. After I swallowing my tongue, I was finally able to wrap my brain around making the wrap around his brain a little less hairy. With his hair having recently been cut, it really wasn't all that hairy to begin with.

In this second before picture, I dare you to focus on his hair, and not the mayhem happening with his dentures.

After bravely choosing the #1 guard, the buzzing commenced. This stinker was so excited to be getting buzzed that he asked to get up after almost every pass on his head, to go check himself out in the mirror. Along with a hairy trail leading to and from the bathroom, we ended up with patches on his head, caused by my constant interruption of thought pattern.

I you can believe it, I got a serious case of the giggles while cutting this client's head. He looked like he had been in an intense altercation with an angry cat.

When I grabbed my camera to take a picture of the mayhem now happening on top of his head, Chase said, "You need this for your blog, huh, Mom." I am sooooo transparent.

The after shot.

While thoroughly enjoying his new, massive absence of hair, Chase was perplexed as to why his head wasn't as smooth, and as hairless, as his Grandpa's.

Baby steps, son. Baby steps.

Scripture Power

2010-05-16T16:19:00.000-07:00

The other night, at a late enough hour to claim "the nice Mom", my insomniac son came in and sheepishly asked if he could read his scriptures in bed. How could "nice Mom" not come back for a brief and tender moment, long enough to grant permission for such a noble request?

Such a sweet pea.

Window Pains

2010-05-14T09:57:00.000-07:00

I looked out the window, and what did I see?

I don't know, 'cause I can't see out of my windows.

No, that is not a flurry of fluffy white snow flakes. It's not the trail of pelting, pouring rain drops.

Those are my windows.

Dirty, dirty windows.

They're driving me crazy.

But you know what might drive me crazy even more?

Washing them.

So, I'll just wait until summer.

For now, I'll go inside and scrub my muddy mud room floor.

Oh, never mind.

It's called a mud room for a reason, right?

Mother Bear in the Outfield

2010-05-13T08:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Bub's first baseball practice. Something we have all been looking forward to for a very long time. At first glance, Coach seems enthusiastic, teammates look excited. All is well. For a few seconds, anyway.

Right off the bat (punny punny), things so south. Let me painfully insert here, that these boys are only 6 and 7 year old.

They gather in a circle to introduce themselves. The kids start by introducing themselves with vulgar potty talk. As they run into the outfield, the child who reveals himself as the most vulgar monster, turns around and SPITS in my son's face as he's running. Did I say spit?!? YES.I.SAID.SPIT.

Coach breaks them into groups of three for throwing practice. Oh, joy. My son gets grouped with Mr. Monster. He hurls the ball as far as he can past Chase, so Chase has to run and go get it. While my son is running lackey, Monster starts calling him gross and demeaning names for not being able to catch his amazing throws.

My husband seems to have the ability to put up with a lot, all for the sake of not making a scene. I, however, am Mother Bear. Hear me roar. I have my child's innocence to save.

I get up and head out into the outfield, with hands on hips, lips zipped, sunglasses blazing. Monster seems to shrink back to the normal size of a 6 year old. For a few minutes.

Coach sets up pitching machine. Mother Bear returns to her lair. Husband is mortified. Only other Mom there watching practice, proceeds to tell me that boys will be boys and eventually I need to learn to lighten up and let the boys be boys.

EXCUSE ME?!?

Would you like me stick my head in the sand while I am at it? No thank you!!!!

I was ready to get UP and yank my son OUT. Against my better judgement, I was convinced to stay calm and sit down. Breath, Mom.

The boys are spread in outfield positions, while taking turns at bat. They were given a quick pep talk about being a team and using encouraging words. Those words were lost among the louder vulgar ones. The obscenity is now reaching a new level, pushing the limit one syllable at a time closer to the edge of the cliff. And, to top it all off, the colorful monologues are being joined with grabbing of one's body parts, and graphic thrustings of others.

The coach and assistant coach have smiles on their faces, happy to hear the sing-song bantering of a team out in the field, not wanting to ruin the vibe with something as nasty as reprimand, I can only assume. Not wanting to make waves. Move over then, angry motorboat with HUGE waves coming through and,

I AM READY TO KILL.

I am not a big fan of PC. In my opinion, that is why these kids are the way they are. Right is right. Wrong is wrong. That easy. If other parents want to get their knickers in a bunch because I dared to say anything to their children, then be my guest and YOU TAKE CARE OF IT! If not, then move over, Bacon. Here comes something meatier.

Instead of blowing my cork, I am somehow convinced to keep my cool. So, in my only defense, I start talking about the situation, really, really loud. Aimed in the coaches direction. Real tough, right?

Yeh, not really caring if I am becoming the Cardinal's nightmare team Mom. With the way things went last night, you may not have to worry about having this Mom and her child anywhere near your team. I will either pack up my son and head for the hills (or the city office), or I will kindly extend my services as Babysitter in the Outfield, who will also moonlight as Teacher in the Outfield, Officer in the Outfield, Disciplinarian in the Outfield, and Soap Dispenser in the Outfield.

But, one thing you can bank on me not doing anymore?

KEEPING MY MOUTH SHUT!

I AM MOTHER BEAR!!
HEAR ME ROAR!!

Fuzzy Duckys

2010-05-11T23:26:00.000-07:00

A return to blogging after several days of no blogging, would not be a return to blogging without a funny quote from my favorite subject to blog about...right?

My bub has fallen in love with fuzzy chicky babies. He thinks they are just "absolutely adorable." His words, exactly.

During a torrential down pour yesterday, he asked me if little chicks like the water. I, being the Mom and all, should know the answer to this...and all other questions that will most likely end up on the table during the next 20 years. So, I answered something like this,

"Well, I bet they do like a little water. They probably like to walk around in water that covers their feet, but I bet they don't like to be covered in water. They..."

Smart Mom was about to conclude with..."probably aren't very good swimmers."

Smarter Child jumped in with..."Yeh, I don't think they are really very waterproof."

Well, look who knows so much!

A Whole New Concept

2010-04-28T22:40:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a mighty windy day here. I reeled Chase in a little earlier than usual, dressed us warm jammies, popped some corn, snuggled under a quilt, and watched a kid's flick .

When the popcorn bowl hit half empty, Chase took his hand out of the bowl and announced he was done. Feeling a little full myself, I said that yeah, sure, I was done, too.

As we continued watching and enjoying the movie, my hand instinctively found it's way back into the popcorn bowl, which then found it's way to my mouth. My hand continued doing this, until the bowl was gone. Chase's hand never flinched. His eyes, however, kept doing double takes as I shoveled the popcorn into my face.

I have to say, I was literally in awe of him. Seriously.

He said he was done. He meant it. He was done. He was full. He was satisfied. He said, no more, and he meant, no more. He didn't want or need another kernel of buttery, salty, oh, so fabulous popcorn. So, he didn't eat one more kernel of buttery, salty, oh, so fabulous popcorn.

W.H.A.T?

That concept is totally wasted on me.

What do you mean? Stop eating when you are done? Uh, you don't keep eating just 'cuz it tastes good? You don't go for broke 'cuz you just can't get enough of whatever you have chosen as you next victim?

So, what you are saying, then, is that when you are full, you should stop eating whatever it is that you are eating? Full means done? Done. As in...no more dipping back into the bowl? No more bites. No more tastes?

Huh.

Now, why didn't I think of that?

Well, all I can say it that my little six year old has it figured out. Maybe...there is some hope for me, too?

Earth Shattering

2010-04-27T14:01:00.000-07:00

When your kindergarten son celebrates Earth Day at school, it becomes more than likely that you will want to end up celebrating Earth Day at home. Right?

So, insert Clever and Creativly Talented Mom here _________

Right.

I started with the BEST of INTENTIONS. But things just didn't quite come out the way they were supposed to come out. What started out as a good idea as seen on one of my crafty blog links (seriously, I gotta start writing them down! I can't ever remember where the ideas come from!!), ended up testing my ability to TRULY be creative. The tutorial said,

"Cake mix, divide, add colors, round pan, mix and match, voila...Earth Day Cake.

Sounded sooooo simple. But noooooooooo. This is what we got instead:

First attempt:

Second attempt

Second attempt, with hard crust removed

Consolation prize?

A few globe-like-ish replica cupcakes.

So, for Earth Day this year, my kindergartner enjoyed two cake mixes worth of blue and green baked goods...AND the NEW chore of taking out ALL of the recycling. Whoot Whoo!

Okay. I'm waiting. For my Mother of the Year Award.

Just let me know when you're ready to present.

Da Bears

2010-04-26T10:24:00.000-07:00

There is not a lot of difference between my little cub, and the adorable little bear cubs at Baby Animal Days at the AWHC a few weeks ago.

In the midst of lots and lots of interesting things to see, they would both rather just play in the dirt.

While both sets of cubs are prone to having dirt and other groceries stuck in their fur, there is at least explanation for the cubs above. For the cub below, I...well...where...if you...how? Who knows.

They both start out so small and cuddly. Then, they GROW LIKE WEEDS. At the rate my cub is growing, his "potential" will not be far off from Papa Bear's potential.

There are, thankfully, a few differences that stand out, as well.

My cub doesn't bite me every time I reach out to touch him. And, my cub can be admired without needing to be restrained by a cage. Well, most of the time, at least.

I jest. We don't even own a cage.

"A", I'm Adorable, "B", I'm So Beautiful...

2010-04-23T11:08:00.001-07:00

Chase took great care in getting ready for church on Sunday. He paid careful attention to every little detail.

When he came out for the unveiling, he got quite reception from his ma and pa. After listening to his mother's gushing on and on about how amazing he looked, Chase felt compelled to concur. In all seriousness, he exclaimed,

" I know! I am ADORABLE!"

Oh, how I love my boy's self-confidence.

I asked this ADORABLE boy to come and snuggle with me the other day. These are the feet that he so casually plunked on my lap:

Boy: (noun) a noise with dirt

Homemade Pig

2010-04-21T18:47:00.000-07:00

With the departing of pup Pepper, we now have an empty dog run. A small run, but a dog run, nonetheless. Jeff thought it would be fun to throw around the idea of raising a pig, in said empty dog run. I told him that would be a big negative, unless we could name the pig "Dinner".

Chase slobbered at the idea. His eyes grew wide. His drooling tongue fell out of his mouth. When he could finally get ahold of himself, he said,

"Yeah, let's get a pig! Then we can have homemade ribs!"

Yup, I knew it.

Homemade is always better.

Happy Easter!

2010-04-20T15:19:00.001-07:00

Well, I am getting caught up, finally!

How fabulous was it to have Easter and Conference at the same time?! We really enjoyed our weekend. Chase has been listening to all four sessions with me since he was born. We do such special things for Conference, which aid GREATLY to his excitement and ability to endure 8 hours of sitting still and listening.

For the last couple of years, we have been doing the activity packs that start to circulate around conference time. They are wonderful. They are engaging, age appropriate, and help them understand what Conference is all about.

This year, I added a Conference Survival Kit. Chase woke up Saturday morning to a box filled with healthy snacks, treats, water bottles, crayons, scissors, etc. He was armed with everything that he would need to sit quietly for each session. Needless to say, he LOVED it.

We had our own egg hunt in our own home for this Easter. Chase was given clues to find the eggs, which he had to read by himself. He has turned into quite the reader!

Yes, I know. Those are some big eggs.

In the spirit of slowly converting to loving all things homemade, I decided to try the vinegar and food coloring method for dying Easter eggs. Wow...uh, it works! I am especially loving Chase's egg with the reinforcement tab eyes.

I am really loving being able to celebrate these moments and occasions with Chasers. He gets so excited about traditions, holidays, and seasons. He takes such pride in learning and asking questions. He was able to express his feelings about Easter and the Savior to me this year. His sweet understanding of the Savior's importance to him is such a payday for me.

There was just one thing I guess I wasn't completely understanding. I was just wondering why he felt the need to have half of a plastic egg on his head for the entire first session of Conference on Easter Sunday. Oh, well. It didn't seem to affect his hearing.

Hope you all had a fabulous Easter this year!

Mom Jeans

2010-04-16T22:25:00.000-07:00

The first time I saw this Saturday Night Live skit on rerun, I laughed. Of course I laughed. It was funny! Who wouldn't laugh? It wasn't until I was giving this parody some serious thought a little while later, that I came to a startling realization. I thought...

...aw, shoot. These are MY jeans. Dadgum.

You see, for the past few years, I have taken a little "vacation" from my skinnier, healthier self. While in this "state", I had not meant to wear "Mom Jeans". I didn't even know what those were. I was just wearing a jean that fit. And, that covered my, uh...stuff. But, apparently, while I was taking a break from my ability to wear a size 2 pant, somebody played an awful joke on me.

Somebody rewrote the fashion on jeans.

Somewhere along the line, the waistline on a good pair of jeans, has gotten A LOT lower.

As a reward for dropping a few pounds and several sizes, I am forced to buy these objects that are foreign to my body. They don't seem to want to cover my...stuff. As a reward for several months abstinence from sugar, and exercising my tushy off, I find that I have just exchanged my "Mom Jeans", for the...

"Mom Jig".

You know the one.

The one where you latch on with a death grip to your belt loops, then yank and shimmy your...stuff, back into your pants. You know the one, when after bending over, you are forced to do some reconnaissance of the unmentionables, then perform the "Jig" to put everything else back into place.

I am learning now, why the former, comfortable, appropriately fitting jeans, were attached to the special classification of Moms. Moms do not have the time, desire, nor number of arms required to be constantly yanking, shimmy-ing, and sashay-ing our...stuff, back into our clothing.

So, while I am happy to be somewhat smaller in my size...smaller...jeans, I am still adjusting to the constant need to be adjusting. It's a work in progress.

I do have to mention, however, that I appreciate the company I have in my misery. I am a big fan of the knowing, understanding glance, smile, and wink from other Moms, who have just been caught doing the "jig".

And so it begins. The race I didn't even know I was in. I had no idea I was in a race with fashion to see who could get "skinnier" faster. Apparently, I am losing. There is something already out there called "skinny jeans". So, I am not likely to catch up to an ever-shrinking fashion, that seems determined to make it more and more challenging to continue to fit ALL of one's junk, into their ever-shrinking trunks.

Sigh.

May the good guy win.

Fully-clothed.

My Little Billy Bob

2010-04-15T21:46:00.001-07:00

Oh, the blessed, gangely tooth phase. So cute. Yet, not so cute. We experience everything from the thrill, the gross out, the dramatic exit, the reward, the gap. Then, enters, the "TOOTH". Too big for the poor baby face it grows in. These exiting and entering dentures sure leave their mark as they walk across our babies' faces.

My little Billy Bob has lost 4 teeth. He is working on #5 as we speak. Those dentures are in a hurry to exit. The Tooth Fairy has a Welcome Mat at our home.

He was accidentally punched in the mouth while loosing both of his top pearly whites. While these acts sped up the process, they also created quite a distraction. Teeth were hanging crooked, turning funny colors, and flapping during conversation. Believe me, it has been really hard to focus on his eyes while this Handsome Harry is talking to me. My eyes can't help but be drawn to the mayhem happening inside his oral cavity.

The other day, he completed a task that left him quite proud of himself. Upon completion, he patted himself on his back, while proclaiming, "I sure am a strong fella!"

A little while later, this strong fella was found trying to pull out tooth #4. He squeezed so much effort into yanking on this tooth, that an enormously loud "moose call" trumpeted from that other "cavity".

One for the record books.

As soon as I could scrape my hysterical soul off of the floor, and wipe the tears from my eyes, I instantly began to lament the fact that I had not turned my video on this event.

Hind sight is 20/20.

pun totally intended

Rolling Out The Red Carpet

2010-04-14T22:53:00.000-07:00

The week before Easter, we had the fabulous surprise of my parents (along with sis Kimberly and niece Baylee, and brother Clark) getting to come and spend a night with us. Because of my Dad's illness, we have not been able to see much of them. It was FABULOUS to get to have them in our home with us...even if it was for such a short time. We will take what we can get, right?!

Sorry about the pictures. Again. Camera, waiting until last second to take pictures, running late for church, sun in the face, son who insists he totally and completely does not know how to smile for a camera...

You get the idea.

At any rate it was wonderful to see them. They look amazing. They ARE amazing. My dad had a skip in his step again. Love it.

Here's to retirement and better health! ;)

and, PS

Thanks for all of your compliments on the crafts! You are all too kind!

Give That Girl A Saw...

2010-04-13T20:40:00.000-07:00

...and she goes NUTS!

In the middle of March, my sister, Heather, my sis-in-law Birgitta, my other sis-in-law Angie, and her mom, locked ourselves in my house, and crafted our pants off. Angie and I have a lot of fun doing some seasonal decor crafts a couple of times a year. This was that...times 52! It took two weeks and 9 inches of saw dust in my garage to cut and prep everything for our craft blitz.

A lot of work? Yup. A lot of fun? You Bet! Worth it? Heck Yeh!!

As you peruse the pictures of our wares, please accept my humblest of apologies for the following details:

Quality of pictures. I own the world's crappiest camera, and it died. I am using my other camera, which is unbelievably worse than the first. Unbelievable. You cannot get the true colors off of these pictures.

Quantity of pictures. A tutorial on making a slide show, anyone? Anyone?

Proper Credit for pictures. Out there in Blogland, reside some extremely talented people who share their craft ideas on blogs. Thank you. I have added all of these sites to my blog. Be careful when beginning to browse. You will disappear. For a very. long. time.

So, we have home decor...

Spring...

Are those birds about the most adorable thing ever? EVER?

birthday...

Valentines...

Autumn...

Summer...

and countdown calendars.

That was just round one.

When I get the saw dust cleaned out of my nose, I will get to planning round two.

Maybe by then, there will be an intervention in place, on my behalf.

Help!

It All Started With A Wish

2010-04-12T12:14:00.000-07:00

All I wanted was a little more organization. I just wanted to know where everything was, and where everything should go. I just wanted my "secretary" cabinet to work a little better for me.

So, I started with a little of this,

and ended up with this.

Pulled stuff out, hammered stuff here and there, added drawers and slots, ripped off doors, added tins for magnets, threw stuff away...(sorry! not enough foresight to get a before picture!)

Put it all back,

and ended up with this...

...my new "secretary". Ahh, love.

I am now organized.

And thus, it begins.

The craft itch that CANNOT be scratched.

And a love affair with my new label maker.

Mid-Life Crisis?

2010-04-11T19:55:00.000-07:00

Over the past 8 months, I have,

Lost over 60 pounds.

Gained a new wardrobe.

Bought a puppy.

Sold a puppy.

Lost a preschooler.

Gained some wrinkles.

Changed out an entire room in my house.

Made plans on how to change every other room in my house.

Made over 30 crafts (uh, that's just in the last month).

Made of 1oo changes to my blog background.

I am seriously considering,

Participating in a triathalon

Cutting AND adding color to my hair

Dropping another 50 pounds

Getting a tatoo

Just checking to see if you are paying attention.

Hehehe

So, mid-life crisis? I don't know. I am turning the big "F" word this year. That pretty much constitutes a crisis right there. Regardless if it's a meltdown, or the quickly approaching "F" word, I seem to be on a mission to transform myself from head to toe, and my house from stem to stern. Just be careful when you come to visit. You may not know who you are when you leave.

Happy Valentines!

2010-04-10T23:37:00.001-07:00

Seriously. I feel that far behind with my posts.

In reality, I am not THAT far behind. But with my non-procrastinating, stay-on-top-of-things, like-to-be-the-first-one-out-of-the-gate personality, the date of my last post might as well contain the year 2009.

So, here I go. I am going to start throwing my posts at you with lightening speed. I am going in order. Even if that means backing up to February.

I gave Chase a Valentine assignment a few days before V-day. I gave him my camera (my dumb, dumb camera) and sent him on a heart safari around the house. He was admonished to be as clever as he could. Here are just a few of the results:

He found some obvious ones,

formed one with a pipe cleaner (what a clever Joe),

ate one into his breakfast,

made one with his lunch.

But, from the near 20, out-of-focus hearts that this sweet boy captured on film that day,

this one,

is by far, my favorite.

I heart you, Chasers!

Post-Stuck

2010-04-05T12:04:00.000-07:00

Reasons I get post-stuck:

Can't say anything funny to save my life
Can't get/didn't get the pictures of event I want to post
Don't know how to post what it is I want to post
Can't move forward until a certain post that should go first can be posted
Don't have time
Don't have anything to post
Seems like too much time has passed since the last post that it seems too hard to take the plunge and jump back in

There. Go that out of the way.

All of the reasons for not being able to make a post were hanging over my head like a rain cloud.

Now, I can move forward, and begin posting again. Or not. I may have things to post...or not.

But it's nice to have the option.

I know. Seriously. I know.

I am a dork.

Understanding Children

2010-03-26T15:49:00.000-07:00

Is that an oxymoron?

Try as you might, you may never fully understand children. Oh, you may think you are on to something. You think you have it nailed, then...WHAM!

Theory's gone. Moving on.

I have actually read quite a bit about the stages of childhood. I have researched age-appropriate behaviors, "normal" expectations, and characteristics of children at certain ages. Does it always help? Pfft, no. But sometimes, it is just nice to know that you are at least somewhere near the the vicinity of the ballpark of what to be expecting.

Some fun facts I have learned about the average 6 year old?

Their friends are very important to them.

They have no concept of empathy (that actually explains soooo much).

They are extremely competitive

They like to be...or rather NEED to be first

They like to win. All. The. Time.

We think we have our boy pegged. Having learned these few, simple facts about the average child of six years, we feel we should have the home-court advantage. We can try and stay one, small step ahead in the game. Maybe we won't overreact, because we know where it's coming from. Maybe we WILL overreact, 'cause we know where it's coming from. It's just nice to know.

With our new-found knowledge in hand, we are, at least, getting used to competitions. There will always be a footrace; to the car, to the door, to the phone, up the stairs, into bed, etc. ALWAYS. So, when Jeff heads to the drawer to get the spoons for breakfast cereal, he is not the least bit surprised at the four-foot something tornado that tears across the kitchen at mad speed to get to the drawer...first.

Jeff is surprised, however, when his son, after having attained the biggest spoon first, vigorously thrusts it down the back of his pajama top and begins to scratch feverishly at the unreachable itch that had been plaguing his shoulder blade. Jeff could only stand by and watch in amazement as his adorable child omitted a sigh of relief, heard 'round the world.

Just when you think you have them figured out...WHAM!

My Pot of Gold

2010-03-17T17:39:00.000-07:00

Can I say how thankful I am for talented people? Well, thank you. Seriously.

Because of you, I am sooo lucky. I am lucky enough to have my 6-year old come unglued at the seams, hailing me as the bestest mom in the world. I am sorry to take all the credit for this fabulously, healthy treat. I am just the lucky one who gets to be his mom.

Putting aside all of the sap, I actually do not remember the site that I found this on. I would give you proper accolades, if I knew who were. So, uh, thank you, to whoever you are!

Happy St. Patty's Day!

The Indredible, Versatile Egg

2010-03-15T23:00:00.000-07:00

What fun things can you think of to do with an egg? We gave it some thought, and here's what drummed up. We:

Blew on them

Created with them

Used them to help introduce the new family rule chart for FHE

Ate them

I have no pictures of us eating mini-eggs for FHE. I want no photographic proof that they have even made it into my home

Raced them

Again, no photo. I was to0 busy running with a spoon in my mouth, trying not to drop my egg on the floor.

Juggled them

Okay so the "juggling" part might be a little inaccurate, but dadgum, it was so cute anyway!

We sure had a most eggs-traordinarily eggs-ellent Monday. Have an egg-stra fabulous Tuesday!

The Difference Between Boys and Girls

2010-03-13T23:07:00.000-08:00

I am thinking that the large and cavernous differences between the boy species and the girl species will become more pronounced the older they get. I was forewarned by so many people at the prospect of taking in three girls. I was told to hold on for the ride, 'cause girls are so much different than boys. I am not sure I am totally convinced...yet. So far, from what I have observed, they are just drama with accessories, and noise with dirt.

There is ONE difference, however, that cannot be overlooked, and/or minimized. One that actually has caused me stress, guilt, helplessness, and inadequacy.

HAIR.

At our house, when the need arises for hair to actually get "done", the clippers come out. It's time to buzz it off.

With girls, there is shampoo AND conditioner, brushes, product, styling, barrettes, clips, extensions, styling, updo's, down do's, spritzing, stying, elastics, flowers, colors, coordinating, styling, heating, spraying, opinions, styling, braids, bands, beads, bangles...and more styling. Obviously, the task of styling hair gives me palpitations.

The first morning of hair duty, I was informed by my charge that I needed a spray bottle to spritz down and control the fly-aways during styling. When my one and only spray bottle showed up on the scene dead and broken from lack of use, I was forced to improvise. I wandered aimlessly around the kitchen babbling to myself, in hopes of finding something "waterish" to help calm the nerves of the nervous patron in the "styling chair". Any hopes of putting my eight year old victim at ease were quickly dashed when I rounded the corner with an over-sized ceramic cereal bowl, FULL of water.

"Are you just going to dump that over my head?" she asked timidly

"If I did, would it help speed up the process?" I retorted

She left for school with a single pony in her bangs, a little bit damp, and a whole lot happy to have escaped with her life.

The 6 year old proved to be a little less picky, and a little less terrified at the hands of her caregivers inadequate skills. Or so I thought. Morning three, she announced she was heading downstairs to do her hair. I asked if she wanted me to come down and help her out. With VERY wide eyes, she shook her head violently and flew down the stairs.

Hey, I openly admitted my severe lack in the department of quaff art before my friends even entrusted me with their precious, hairy cargo. I was plenty forth coming in admitted that there was a good chance she would be returning to three bald noggins. I am stellar with a set of clippers. Rubber bands and clips kinda stress me out.

Wow. My son is one lucky BOY.

If Women Are From Venus, and Men Are From Mars...

2010-03-12T13:14:00.000-08:00

Then what planet are Kids from. Seriously.

The Traveling Coconuts

2010-03-11T13:21:00.000-08:00

There is something so amazingly rewarding about giving children a basket of costume pieces to dive in to. And entertaining. I quite like being on the receiving end, enjoying the fruits of their
imaginations.

Speaking of fruit...kinda...notice the coconut bra. It's wandering. If shower/bed time didn't bring the party to a screeching halt, I would be so curious as to see on whom and on what the shells would next reside.

Thanks for being such good sports, guys. Especially Addyson. She made me promise not to post these pictures on "Space Book." I am a woman of my word, love. Rest assured.

Coneheads

2010-03-10T16:48:00.001-08:00

The Cone Heads have dropped in for a visit.

Actually, the Cone Heads have decided to stay for a while. Eleven days, to be exact. Mom and Dad Cone Head have taken off for Costa Rica and the warm sun. They left us all here to freeze in our "attempting to be Spring" weather. Huh. S'alright. We will be having a BLAST here!

Well, gotta go. One of the Cone Heads head's is starting to spin, threatening to shoot right off of her shoulders. Our movie has started without popcorn. Duty calls.

IQ Test

2010-03-08T19:46:00.000-08:00

I am only slightly more dramatic than I am overprotective. This afternoon, I was a little curious about a new habit that I have seen with Chase as he reads. So, I had him go down the hall, while I remained in the kitchen. From this long distance, I had him tell me how many fingers I was holding up. After a few rounds, I was more than satisfied with what I saw.

Chase came sauntering very somberly back down the hall. As he approached me, he asked, very seriously, and quite concerned,

"Mom, were you checking to see if I still have a brain?"

I felt so bad for his seriousness that I reassured him first, and snorted second. Those dang video games.

Chase snapped out of his funk pretty quickly, though. He got me pretty good with chunk of sarcasm later.

After dinner, I shredded the remainder of the chicken and asked, almost rhetorically, what could I do with all of this leftover chicken.

Not skipping a beat, Chase said through his Jack-O-Lantern grin,

"I don't know. Make a craft with it?"

Apparently, my crafting blitz for the past few days has not gone unnoticed.

Pop...Goes the Denture

2010-03-05T16:08:00.000-08:00

***editor's note***

Have your hebbie gebbie guard up. This is a doozy.
Have your ear plugs in. Mom is loud. Again.
Be impressed. All of Mom's hoopla-ing was brought about by the noise made during extrication. She managed to keep the camera pretty still...in the midst of a major willies dance. Mom was seriously grossed out.

What a brave kid. Seriously. Chase we are both proud of you for being both strong and brave, and sorry for you for having grossed-out jellyfish for parents. And by the way, Whistler, you are soooo stinkin' cute with that huge hole in your face!

Do You Trust Me?

2010-03-03T07:18:00.000-08:00

At the time of my birth, my parents were living in California. With my dad in the National Guard at the time, my mom headed to Idaho to be with her mom so she could have help with my birth and my 14 month old brother. So, I was born in Idaho. Not California. A tragedy that could not be avoided.

Oh, I am sure my dad was teasing me when he told me that I would have been a movie star, had I been born in California. I am sure he just said these words, and moved on, not giving it one more thought. But being a gullible child, who trusted her father implicitly, my ears heard,

"Seriously. All you have to do to be a movie star is to be BORN in California. We lived there, but you WERE NOT born then. It is completely our fault. We don't know what we were thinking. Obviously, we were not thinking of you. We are sorry that we have ruined your life. What could have been yours, is now gone forever. You are going to have to let the dream of growing up Hollywood, go. Just let it go. It is not in your birthright to be a movie star. We have taken that away. We are sorry. Ever so sorry."

Or, at least something like that.

Oh, you can believe that I told every one. And I mean E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E. Everyone that could be talked at was told, by me, that I was supposed to be a movie star. If I had been born in California.

I was in the middle of accosting another human being with this "truth", when I actually stopped and listened to what I was saying. I stopped mid-sentence, paused to mull the words over in my head, and BUSTED out laughing. Sad thing? And I do mean VERY SAD THING. I WAS 14 YEARS OLD, PEOPLE! Some bulbs just do shine a little brighter than others, I guess.

Well, now...now it's my turn. Now I am the parent who gets to fill my child's head with whatever I want. And, I get to experience what it is like to have an overly dramatic child, like myself, who twists everything in it's translation, like myself, and gets really hair-brain ideas in his head...like myself.

Case in Point:

My ears tuned in on a conversation downstairs that was getting really heated. From my son, I hear,

"Uh huh, yes it does! Uh huh, playing too many video games DOES give you brain rot. And if you get brain rot, YOU'RE DEAD!

* Actual Comment *

"Turn it off, Chase. If you play that game for too long, it will rot your brain.

2nd Case in Point:

Conversation heard from back seat of van.

"Yeah, and her Boot Camp is sooooo hard. They make you run and sweat and make your bones really tired. AND, they only give you 30 seconds to get a drink of water. If you don't make it, then they make you quit, and you can't do boot camp anymore. Doesn't that sound HARD?"

* Actual Comment *

Well, actually, I don't remember the actual comment. I didn't feel the need for too much correction on this one. I have no problem letting Chase grow up thinking I am Wonder Woman.

Oh, it's fun to be the parent. Putty in my hands, I tell ya.

By the way, Dad. I completely forgive you. I forgive you for my birthplace. I don't think I would have made a very good actress.

One Fish...Two Fish...Red Fish...Pooh Fish

2010-03-01T14:10:00.000-08:00

My date with Chase for Chinese was fabulous, of course. He was an absolute gentleman, where six-year olds are concerned.

We requested a table by the fish tank, hoping for the best atmosphere possible, for the "bestest date" ever. The waiter, captivated by our excitement for the event, became a part of it and let Chase feed the fish. What a glorious beginning to our date.

As we sat down at the table, we wasted not one second beginning GOOD supper conversation. Chase pointed out the "long, dangley thingy hanging from the big orange fish." I tried to keep my dry heaves to a minimum when my eyes finally made contact with the pooh string. I was nearly brought to hysteria when the other smattering of fish in the tank, began following the big provider, silently thanking him as they ATE the bounteous gift bestowed upon them.

I politely, but firmly, asked my date for a seat exchange, to a chair with my BACK the tank. My kind date tried to ease the quell in my throat by throwing out his perspective for all to hear.

"Well, they HAVE to eat their pooh, Mom. They have to keep their tank CLEAN. How would you like to swim around in all that pooh?"

You are welcome, cute little grandma's sitting at the table kiddy-corner to us, for the stimulating dinner conversation you were innocently sucked into. I am sorry, employees, for the soup spray you had to clean off of the walls. I am not sure what happened. It might have been the humor kicking in. Or, reverse peristalsis. Not sure. Really, not sure.

I am glad I am not a fish...I am glad I am not a fish...I am glad I am not a fish...I will not eat pooh...I am glad I am not a fish...I am glad I am not a fish...

Guess Who's Coming To Breakfast?

2010-02-24T08:56:00.000-08:00

One Sunday, when we were kids, we asked our parents if we could go to a fast food restaurant for lunch. Their reply was,

"No, kids, not today. Today is Sunday. We are going to eat with singleness of purpose today."

Child 1 "What's "singleness of purpose"?

Child 2 "I don't know, but we're going to eat with him."

This is who showed up to eat breakfast with me this morning.

Whoa Nelly, that is one handsome Indiana! He was so cool and tough at breakfast. He did pause long enough to give me a devilish grin.

Chase and I are going on a date for Chinese today. We have been looking forward to this all week. I wonder who else will show up for lunch. With any luck, maybe it will be this guy

Ninja-Potter WOULD make an exciting lunch date.

Even if we don't get to eat with Ninja-Potter, I am pretty sure that we will be eating with Gusto; we do like Chinese food. I really am hoping that Self-Control, Will Power, and Restraint show up. I sure could use a good date with those. Seems like I haven't seen them for a long time. I would really like a visit from them.

Have you had any good meal time companions lately? I wonder if they are possibly as cute as mine!

Homemade Is Always Better...Right?

2010-02-23T10:58:00.000-08:00

*WARNING*

Prolonged exposure to the product below has been found to cause some serious dysfunction in humans. Viewing product has been known to cause:

Sugar feet; sugar face; swelling of the hips, belly, thighs, and buttocks region; headache; diabetic coma; tooth decay; upset stomach; restlessness; sticky skin, found mostly in the face and hand region; shock. Use extreme caution when viewing this product.

If prolonged exposure happens to occur, consume 4-5 servings of fresh fruits and vegetables, drink plenty of water...and go to the gym.

This was a good idea gone bad. These are homemade ice cream sandwiches, made with "homemade" cookie dough ice cream. It's kind of like when you make a soup. When it starts out, it looks fine. But, you start to add all of the ingredients, and it gets bigger, and bigger. The idea in my head looked normal; finished product? Not so much. That is a regular sized dinner plate on which they are residing. They are, huh huh, a little large.

To help with the perspective even further, this is an over sized 6 year old. The sandwich dwarfs this giant's face. Like I said; HUGE. If this helps even more, it took this boy three shifts to finish this overgrown FHE treat.

I have taught this boy that homemade anything is usually going to be better than the store bought version. I think I made my point. Loud. Clear. And Ginormous.

Just In Case

2010-02-18T23:24:00.000-08:00

Over the past few weeks, a few comments have been made to me that lead me to believe that some of you have the wrong idea about me. In spite of what some of you may think, I am NOT perfect. So, just in case YOU were wondering, let me give you some examples that might clarify any misgivings;

1. I ate 12 Cadbury Mini Eggs today. Oh, but wait. By tomorrow, I will have had 4 workouts this week. So, uh never mind.

2. Today was the first time I have cleaned-cleaned my house since the second week of January. Seriously. Wait. During these past 6 weeks, I have deep cleaned 3 houses for three different families across three different states, and helped another move. Never mind on this one, too.

3. I slept until 10 AM yesterday morning. Wait. That was after I returned from my 6 AM bust-your-booty exercise boot camp. Scratch that one, too.

Ah, shoot. Well, I tried. I guess, to quote Mary Poppins, I am "practically perfect in every way."

* If you actually for ONE second think that I am the LEAST bit serious, thank you! I do try hard*

Isn't it amazing how we picture others? Everyone looks so put together. Everyone looks like they have their ducks all in a row. We could never imagine anyone having less than perfect moments, doing less than perfect anything, looking anything but perfect. It just can't be so, people! We all have our weaknesses, our strengths, our nemesis-es-s-i...foes, proud moments, less than stellar moments, and everything in between.

The really cool thing about all of this? We have great friends who know all of the above, and continue to love us still. We tend to be so much harder on ourselves than others are on us. We gotta learn to cut ourselves some slack! It makes my day that there are people in my life who really think I have a good handle on so many things. And, to humor them along, I have decided to begin to believe them. I will rise to the occasion!

And seriously, for the record, this has been quite therapeutic. I have a tendency be completely incapable of taking a compliment. I have to think of all of the reasons why they couldn't possibly be right. This morning, I gave this all some good thought. I have come to a conclusion. It makes no sense for me to argue with those of you who think I have it all together. It really can only benefit us all in the long run, right?

Know that you are fabulous! If you don't believe it, pretend you do. Fake it for as long as you have to. Eventually, you will catch up to the rest of us!

PS I just reread this post and, uh, whoops. When I say "eventually, you will catch up to the rest of us", I mean that eventually you will begin to realize that you are as fabulous as we already know that you are. NOT that you will finally be as perfect as some of us are claiming too be! Sheesh. I could actually feel my head swelling with self-focus-ed-ness!

Lego My Lego

2010-02-17T20:17:00.000-08:00

Following our Family Home Evening lesson on Monday, we had a family activity that was planned by one of the male persons that lives at our house. I am not sure which. The tall one says that the shorter one really wanted to do this activity. The short one says it was the tall one's idea. But in any case, it was fun, and very clever.

The two boy dudes at our house loooooove to play with Lego's. After building their own fleet of fabulously amazing cars, naturally, a race was born. The tall male came home with a large PVC pipe derby track. Boys.

Since the Testosterone Team already had vehicles, I set out to see what I could create. The shorter male was given a crash course in the differences between boys and girls. I dumped out the huge bin of building blocks, sifting through the wreckage for anything that looked car-ish, since I have noooo idea how to build a car. After asking me if I wanted help in gathering parts for my collection, Chase asked me what it was that I was going for, specifically. I answered, "Oh, anything fun, or cute." Chase threw a nervous glance, accompanied by a questioning giggle, at his Dad. What? Build a car based on cute? Can you do that? Different genetic make-up, I tell ya.

I do have to mention, however, my cuteness was apparently a little catchy. At starting time, Chase's race entries showed up at the start line, sporting some extra, and fun accessories. Don't knock it 'til you try it, bud.

This was the boy's first entry.

This was the Mom's one and only entry. My Seuss-mobile. I am quite proud.

These are the participating vehicles. Pretty impressive. The three in the middle ended up being the big contenders. Duh.

This is the derby track, and a very happy munchkin. He had just beaten his dad in the previous heat.

This is Heat 92. I was eliminated in Heat 3, due to the fact that my driver's appendages fell off, causing a debris field on the track. It's okay. I appointed myself Race Photographer.

This is the joyful, shorter racer, enjoying some sugary syrupy sauce, mixed in with a few snow cone shavings. I am not sure I can completely tell by the expression on his face, but I think the boy dude had a really great time.

Have A Little Valentine With Your Sugar

2010-02-11T20:36:00.000-08:00

Valentine's Day has never been my favorite holiday, or even time of the year. I am usually ready for winter to be done by now, and cabin fever starts to take hold. However, having a fabulously involved son, who eats, sleeps and drinks fun and celebration, has helped encourage me to suck it up a little, and get involved. And let me tell you...involved, it is.

It has become as exciting as Christmas around here. Every morning, Chase wakes up with the roosters and runs to his mailbox. There, he retrieves a "sweet" surprise, left by Mom and Dad from the night before. When I say sweet, I mean suh-weeeeet.

Monday, a treat. Tuesday, a treat. Wednesday, love letters written by Mom and Dad, accompanied by a treat. Thursday, a treat. Friday will be stickers, and a treat. Saturday...we're skipping Saturday. Sunday, wait for it, wait for it...a treat.

Some of the other "sweet" things we've been up to? Monday night, a "love-ly" Family Home Evening, topped off with a heart shaped treat that had doubled as an object lesson. Tuesday, Chase woke up to a "heart attack" in his bedroom.

Wednesday, Chase had a play date here, with a friend from his kindergarten class. For an activity, we made adorable "ice cream" treats (a sugar cone, topped with two pink meringue cookies, held together by melted chocolate chips). ADORABLE!! These really turned out cute. The boys were equally cute WITH them. They wrote each other a nice note, exchanged them, then dropped them in the bottom of their ice cream cones before assembly. Why no picture, you ask? They were devoured before I remembered to snap a picture.

Let's continue. Today, we made homemade V-alien-tine cards for him to hand out during his class Valentine's party tomorrow. These were sooooo fun to make together.

Tomorrow, I am turning him loose with the camera, with the assignment of taking a picture of everything he sees that is a heart, looks like a heart, or can be made into a heart. Sunday morning, our final destination, we are having heart shaped pancakes and muffins for breakfast, heart shaped sandwiches and cheese for lunch, and individual heart shaped pizzas for dinner, with heart shaped brownies for dessert.

Not a bad way to celebrate my least favorite of holidays. This has been quite the week long heart, and sugar fest. By the time Valentine's Day officially comes, we will have one, highly energized cherub, with one mean sugar rush, and hopefully even less cavities. But more importantly, he will hopefully be more aware that he is one, loved boy.

Happy Valentine's!

100

2010-02-09T20:21:00.001-08:00

Today was 100 day at school today.

Wow. 100. Seems like we started just yesterday.

To kick off 100 day, Chase awakened to 100 paper hearts taped around his bed. I would go in and take a picture to share, but I can hear that my squirt is not completely out yet. I would set off 100 more questions, accompanied by the need for 100 more goodnight hugs and kisses.

For math today, each child was asked to bring 100 small items, to be compared, and weighed.

Chase is 100% my carbon copy...which makes him 100% competitive.

He was 100% sure he wanted to take the heaviest small items.

He chose...100 batteries.

You can be sure he was reminded 100 times to make sure those 100 batteries came home with him today.

It was only a slight exaggeration when I mentioned that that was about $100 worth of hardware...to add to the dramatic effect.

He almost changed his mind when he put them in his "pack-pack", causing it to weigh a near 100 pounds. He then said, it would be worth the struggle.

His after-school-report-to-mom-of-all-things-awesome was delivered at about 100 decibels. He said they did about 100 of the bestest, most fun activities for their fabulous 100 day.

Only one negative. He thought 100 meant the end of kindergarten. He thought 100 days was all he signed up for. He was planning on moving up to the first grade for tomorrow. Thank goodness that's not true. He handled the news pretty well when his teacher set him straight. I won't overwhelm him by breaking it to him, that he has about 100...thousand more.

Oh, I love you 100 times to the moon and back, Chaser Beans. I feel 100 times more blessed now, since I have been chosen to be your mom. Thank goodness you don't really get to move on in 100 days. Time marches on too fast as it is.

PS I know what you all are thinking. Who has 100 batteries laying around their house? We had 104 to be exact. Thanks to Sam's Club, even such staples as batteries have made it onto my "food storage" shelves. Won't I be your favorite in a crisis?

PPS Sorry about the 100 changes to the background of my blog. There are about 100 million choices of cute blog backs out there. The closer I get to 100, the harder time I seem to have making up my mind.

Webbles Wobble, But...

2010-02-08T13:03:00.000-08:00

I have impeccable timing.

Normal, to a six year old, is pretty relative. I guess normal fits under the umbrella with the mood that your beloved child wakes up with in the morning. Normal can shift with the wind, with who gets to go first, with who has the biggest treat, with who won and who lost. In other words, who really knows what is "normal" to these fabulously unpredictable little people.

Last week could possibly be classified as an abnormal week for a small child. It started with Mom ousting the family pet. It ended with Chase's kindergarten teacher teaching for her last day on Friday. Oh, the resiliency of babes. He has weathered any sadness that may, or may not, have been caused by the parting Pepper. He said a very fond, sincere thank you and goodbye to his wonderful teacher, who he loved. He pulled himself up by the boot straps and mustered up the courage to be happy to go back to school today, thankful that his new teacher is really nice...'cause that's all that matters. What a champ.

Do I over dramatize? Uh, yes! Truthfully, this kid hasn't been phased in the least. It's called Slight of Hand. The Art of Distraction. Good tricks for the trade. Okay, so I am being dramatic yet again. Seriously, kids are amazing. They have such an ability to bounce right back, and pick up where they left off. I was just feeling a little guilty timing it in such a way that both of these events took place at the same time. Just a little.

Webbles wobble, but they don't fall down. Tough as nails, I tell ya. That is, until you bring out an Emory board. Chase and I were sharing a mattress during an overnight stay with my brother and fam. I woke up first, and was filing my nails when Chase woke up. His eyes popped open, blinked a few times to put them in focus, then went WIDE.

"Yeek. I DO NOT like to shave my fingernails. When that thing touches my nails, it makes my nerves nervous!"

We all have our kryptonite, I guess.

Mother of the Year

2010-02-06T14:22:00.000-08:00

Well, I did it again. I have earned myself some more stripes. I have put myself and all my maternal glory out there...again.

I sold our puppy on Monday. I know. That right there tips the scale in my favor. It was a hard and painful decision to make, and an even harder one to carry out. We really love that dog. And just so it doesn't appear that we have fallen victim to a horribly dramatic act resembling a mid-life crisis, I have to say that this has been in the works for a couple of months. Chase, amazingly, did not shed one tear. I cried the WHOLE time her new family took her to their car. The husband said, "She's going to have a hard time tonight." I cried even harder as I concurred, gushing about how I will miss my nightly routines with Pepper. It wasn't until I was done with my blubber-fest that I noticed the sheepish expression on his face. I didn't have to wonder long about the reason. He hesitantly told me that he had been talking about..the dog. Dang. That spontaneous disclosure will get you every time.

If there is any good news trapped in this monstrous act, Chase took the "band-aid ripping" way better than I did. Like I said, I have been preparing him for this for a while. I reminded him that she was going to be very well taken care of, very happy, and very loved. He was even further relieved when asking me if we had had Pepper sealed to us, that I was able to answer no.

Chase took great comfort in the fact that she was going to a good home. I think I actually may have done too good of a job building up her new family. That night, in his prayers, Chase blessed Pepper and expressed his gratitude that her new family was going to be good to her. There was a painfully long pause before he added, "We are a good family, too...kinda." I'm racking up the points, aren't I. That was a good place for me to insert a good pep talk and a big hug. Sigh.

It's a good thing that children as resilient as they are. This parenting stuff is such a crap-shoot. I am sure it won't take long until I am at it again.

I do have to mention that I am back in my favorite son's good graces again. Already this week, he has told me how glad he is that I am home, I am the best cook ever, I am beautiful, and he his so happy for me now that my tummy is as small as his . I just hope he is this kind and forgiving when he is in therapy. Poor kid.

Dad-Dad-Daddy-O

2010-02-04T18:33:00.000-08:00

The week after I went to Provo to help my sister with her new baby, I was able to turn around and head up to my home town in Washington State to help my parents. I have to say, though, that for me, it wasn't all about the help. It was just flat out amazing to get to there on the front lines with my parents; to get to see for myself how they are doing. And, I must add, they are doing pretty fabulous.

I regretfully, yet not surprisingly, did not get any more pictures than the one above. Sigh. This picture was taken in Seattle, just before we headed home to Moses Lake. Love the bags and tired face I am sporting. My dad, on the other hand...doesn't he look GREAT!?! We hit the ground running and got right to work. We were so busy every day, doing everything, but feeling like we accomplished nothing. But, they do at least, have very shiny cabinets, walls, doors, and floorboards. I had to be good for something!

I was able to be there for nearly two weeks. It was hard to be away from home for that long, but still a necessary trip. For me, at least.

My time with my parents has reaffirmed a few things for me:

They are amazing people

They have the faith to move mountains

Man, do I love them

It's hard to see people you love go through something hard

I will never be too old to be homesick and need my parents around!!

Thank you for being so strong for us, Mom and Dad. I am in complete awe of your strength, and faith. I have learned so much from watching you two for the past 5 months. You are amazing companions to each other, and faithful servants to the Lord. We love you.

Snips, Snails, and Burps

2010-02-02T19:40:00.000-08:00

Ah, the world of boys. Almost needs no explanation. Almost.

As a brand new, inexperienced, and naive mother, I was wisely told that the world of boys, is like no other. I have had so much to look forward to. I was also warned that I should expect to be good and grossed out at least once a day. At first, I thought that just meant that when approached by a little mop-top, with a closed fist, excitedly asking you to hold out your hand...you should resist with every ounce of your being. Just don't do it.

With time, I have nearly willingly stretched the definition of "grossed out" to encompass a plethora of categories. Some, but by far not all, of these categories include: smells, sounds, bathtubs, outside objects, objects placed in mouth, outside objects placed in mouth, and of course, hand placement.

I have come to accept, and sometimes enjoy, all things that classically make my son a very typical boy. I have not, however, been able to get a good grasp on the ability to stop apologizing to a room I have just entered, for anything that my handsome harry may or may not do or say in the course of the time that we will be in said room. With what seems to be great fortune, many of the most blatant and startling gross out moments have happened within the walls of our own home.

Case in point. As Chase and I were playing a game together the other day, we were also enjoying an exorbitant amount of the burps. I know. I know. But Moms should be allowed some gross out moments, too, I should think. We found ourselves philosophising on why we thought a good burp was so necessary to one's survival and comfort. After one particular, and quite resounding blast, I said,

"Well, that was about a 10 on the Richter scale. I bet that felt good to relieve all that pressure."

With complete sincerity, Chase closed his eyes and dreamily said,

"Oh, yeah. And the best part of that burp...I got to taste my Cream of Wheat again. Hmmm. Yum."

bleck I barf Heart gag Boys.

I know. What can I say. My generosity astounds me, too.

Diving In

2010-02-01T13:05:00.000-08:00

The hardest part about blogging after being away from the blogging world for such a long time is...blogging. There is always the "looming" post that you feel you should make before any other posts can butt their way in. In the attempt to stave off said post, the gap between posts seems to grow. So, I am just diving in. No order. No reason. Just a post.

On the way home from Provo last night (one of two reasons for the three week gap in posts), Chase and I were having a delightful little chat about this, and that. As we hit Brigham City, Chase mentioned to me that he had seen a water part somewhere "way back there", and it looked pretty fun. I asked him why he hadn't shown it to me "way back there". He reminded me that I had been talking on the cell phone when it went by...and he didn't want to interrupt me. Nice boy. A first. But, nice.

He continued to describe all of the fun things that he had seen in this water world. He said that he even thinks he saw a waterfall ride with a log, or something like that. Pretty good eyeballing, seeing that everything is covered in snow, and frozen. Anyway, I was enjoying our chat and kept the discussion going. He excitedly told me that he thinks that this would make a really fun Mom and Son date. I happily concurred. I decided to match his enthusiasm while asking,

"And do you know what is going to be extra fun about that?"

"No! What!?!"

"I am even skinnier this summer than last summer! I will be able to..."

"Fit in the log?"

Pphtt...no. What I was GOING to say was "buy a new swimsuit." I suppose, however, that I will become relatively happy with fitting more comfortably and looking more proportionately beautiful in...a log.

Best Purchase of 2009?

2010-01-13T21:33:00.000-08:00

Grandma and Grandpa sent us some money for Christmas. Chase and I carefully laid out our little wish list of what special things we would like to purchase with such special money.

This is what we bought:

Deseret Book sells these little gems. Chase has fallen in love with these books. He carries them around. He puts them in their special place. He considers them a "good read". It makes his day to peruse their pages, scouting out fun activities to do with Mom and Dad.

I am thrilled that this Handsome Harry finds nothing greater, than to spend time with his parents. Being an only child creates an interesting dynamic in a family. This sweet pea would love nothing more than to have a brother to conspire with, and a sister fight with. But, for now, we are making the grade. At least when he is not playing with his friends, mind you.

This was our first Mom/Son activity from our new book. He picked this one out while we were still in the car, on the way home from Deseret Book. These are our Jell-o boats, made from hollowed out oranges, and, uh, Jell-o. The next morning, we slurped them for an after breakfast snack. He was pretty pleased with us. So was I.

It is amazing how much a parent can accomplish when they take the time to get on the floor and play with their child. Life seems to stop, and get very simple, when the focus is where it needs to be. Why do I keep forgetting this?

Now, if I could only find a magic book that helps me summon the magical fairy that can do my laundry, cooking, bills, house cleaning, every day life...so I can play with my favorite 6-year old all day. Until then, you will pardon my clutter, won't you? I am busy discovering the cure for parental frustration.

A Room In the Inn...Finally

2010-01-11T22:14:00.000-08:00

Chase was a little surprise baby, to say the least. Our new house was only semi-ready for a little baby. We didn't care! You know what they say. Babies can sleep in a drawer, right?

I presume to have a few talents. Choosing paint colors for walls, and decorating said walls, are not on the list of great can-do's. Chase was destined to move in...as is. The poor little fellow was stuck with the paint color already slapped on the wall. He was even more stuck with a mama who lack any creativity to know what else to do to his little haven, to make it more haven-like.

Until now.

Yup. I finally got it together. It only took six years. But. He finally has a room! He is absolutely in LOVE with his new pad. I have to admit, it looks like some celestial being heaved galactic goo all over the place. But. He finally has a room! We are pretty pleased with the outcome. We used our creativity to make half of the decor, and Christmas and birthday gifts for the rest. I have signed myself up to make a valance to match his bedspread. Sigh. But. He finally has a room!

Here are some pics to prove it:

Chase has had a love affair with the planets, and all things stellar since the age of two. It was only fitting that his room take him on a trip to outer space. He wanted black walls. Nope can do. The dark blue represents a compromise, and the fact that mom found some really cool pictures depicting outer space in shades of dark blue. Mom's so smart.

While I do consider myself somewhat proficient with the names and colors and functions of the planets (thanks to an inquisitive child...and the Internet), I can only vouch for them being in the right order, not the right placement. They are placed according the the aesthetically pleasing eye of the decorator. Notice, Uncle Erik. Pluto made the cut. Oh, if you could have only been a fly on the wall when I tried to explain to Chase why some were ousting Pluto as an official planet. HILARIOUS! Let's just say, Pluto is safe in our book.

Chase's new bed and closet.

All of the things most important to Chase.

Bob. The recipe cards stuck in Bob's eyeball are Chase's Christmas presents to his robot buddy. He is so considerate, no? He has also seen fit to include Bob in the decorating of the season. He has a painted ice skate on his shoulder.

Enjoy your new room, Buddy! Sorry it took so long. At least we do have the proof that you DIDN'T have to sleep in a drawer...thank goodness.

Gag Me With A Spoon

2010-01-10T22:48:00.000-08:00

I know we have a tendency to think that our own children are the cutest, sweetest, funniest, generally most fabulous children. Most of the time, at least. But seriously, I really do think that this boy is quite amazing. He is one funny nugget. After being away from this sport for a whole week, I have come to really love the little things about him. I just plain get a kick out of the way he talks. I love to sit really close to him, and watch the way his mouth moves when he talks. He has such adorable annunciation. I am not the least bit biased, right?

While in Provo,I was able to visit with this boy every night, before bedtime, thanks to our webcam Skype. I missed him so much. After a couple of days away from him, I was really missing his big brown eyes. I asked him to look up close in the camera and let me see his fabulous eyes. He got up close, batted his eye lashes a bit, then winked at me. Ooooh. Be still my heart.

The first night that I was home, I afforded myself some extra snuggle time with him at bedtime, so we could have a long chat. He was really chatting it up with me. We covered quite a few topics, probably limited to the interest of adorable 6-year old, and their adoring mothers. My personal favorite topic of the night? Hot cereal.

My bub informed me that one morning, he had wanted hot cereal for breakfast. There wasn't any of his favorite kind left, so he decided to try the less appealing oatmeal...which has always had less than stellar results for this kid. This experience was no exception:

"You tried oatmeal? Did you like it this time?"

"No, I really don't like oatmeal. Do you know why I don't like oatmeal?

"Nope. Why don't you like oatmeal?"

"I like the taste of it. I just don't like the feel of it in my throat. After a few bites, it always get stuck in my throat. It makes me gag. Do you know what I have to do when things get stuck in my throat and make me gag? I have to reach down and scrape it off with my tongue."

He gave me a complete visual.

I sure love this kid. He is the bestest ever. I am so glad that I get to be his mom. He can even make a boring breakfast seem like a marvelous adventure. Thanks for making my day, son!

Nice Buns

2010-01-09T22:26:00.000-08:00

For quite some time now, I have been wanting to post a picture of my very nice buns. These buns were for Jeff's butt. I am pretty proud of my buns. My buns and Jeff's butt were pretty awesome.

Was that enough word play for you? Let me translate.

For Christmas, Jeff wanted to smoke a pork butt. They are not cheap. So, it was decided that this slab of meat would account for one of Jeff's Christmas presents. It wasn't until Christmas afternoon that I realized that I had forgotten to purchase sandwich buns to eat our pulled pork bbque sandwiches with. So, being the clever soul that I am, I decided to make my own. I used my sister-in-laws roll recipe, and just made REALLY BIG ROLLS. They worked. And, they worked very yummily, too, I might add.

While downloading this picture of my buns, I have come to realize that I have completely skipped our holiday festivities. Well, if we are being completely honest here...there were not THAT many festivities. Every so often, one seems to have a year where Christmas comes so quickly, it seems to catch that someone off guard. Christmas day came and I found myself resigning to the fact that most of our traditions were missed, for some reason or another!

So, here is a quick run down of our Christmas 2009. Don't blink. You may miss something. It's that quick:

Waiting to be picked up by the wagon, to see the live nativity in Nibley. A great new tradition that we managed to salvage.

A Santa-shy boy whispering his Christmas wish to someone he was so sure was not the real guy. And speaking of which, it's a good thing that our tradition of writing letters to Santa was extremely late in the season. Chase had a sudden and last minute change of mind on what he was going to be asking him for, causing great last minute panic from Santa's "helper".

The tradition of opening new pajamas on Christmas Eve managed to stay in tact. It was just extra fun this year. We did it at our fabulous friends, the Buck's, after a fun night of playing games, and last minute gingerbread houses. The Buck's had already done their houses for the season. They were just nice enough to do them again for us, the slackers.

And of course, the tradition of presents. What kind of schmucks would we be if we missed that one. I do hope that this photo represents a new tradition in fabulous reactions when opening a present so AWESOME, that it knocks the poor recipient to the ground. The gift? A moon night light that hangs on the wall, complete with a remote that changes the phases of said moon. I think Chase liked it. A lot.

Well, that's it. That was our Christmas. It really was a great Christmas. It just seemed to go by in a blur! The missed tradition I lament the most? Listening to my dad read "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever". Oh, man, I missed my parents for Christmas this year.

I wish I could say that 2010 is going to represent a nice, slower pace...maybe allowing us a little more time to stop and smell the roses. After this first week, however, a slow pace is looking rather grim.

Happy Belated New Year, Everyone!

Cutest Little Peanut

2010-01-08T16:26:00.000-08:00

If a semi-regular blogger takes a sudden and inexplicable leave of absence, it should be for a pretty good reason, right? Well, I have one. And he's pretty adorable.

For the past week, I have had the fabulous privilege of being with my sister, Heather, as she and her husband, Kirk, welcomed their first little baby boy. I stood proxy for our Mom, who is diligently working at the side of Dad, who is in the hospital recovering from major surgery. It was hard for Grandma to miss this much-anticipated event, so I took my charge very seriously. I think?!

Things are all abuzz at their house, obviously. It is a glorious thing, in and of itself, to watch a couple's struggle with infertility, come to a blissful end through the miracle of adoption. But, add to this, the joyful fact that Heather's pregnancy is adding Baby Number Two to their family in a few more months? Well, you end up with excitement oozing out of every pore of everyone who comes in contact with them. When it rains, it pours. Raining babies is not such a bad thing (unless you think about the fact that you may not get any sleep for the next several years!), I would think!

It made me a little teary to get to be involved. They woke up on Saturday, ate a warm breakfast, got gussied up, walked out their door, and left 5 years of babyless sadness behind. When they walked back in, hours later, they were parents. As they walked up the stairs with their little peanut, it pretty awesome! I must say, I love modern technology, when it comes to stuff like this. We set Kirk's lap top at the top of the stairs, so Grandma and Grandpa could "be there" via Skype, as they walked in with their new bundle.

The new little family

Mom and Dad, with their new addition. Notice, the "addition" of the bags under Kirk's eyes. And, yes, the smiles!

This little peanut is seriously the tiniest peanut I have ever seen! He was less than 5 pounds when they brought him home. He is so adorable and sweet, it made my ovaries hurt!

Could you just eat him?! He is the most amazing baby.

Huh, look at that. Seems I have the same bags under my eyes. And apparently, bags under my chin, as well. Can't really blame those on Jack, I guess.

Looking at all of these pictures makes me miss that baby so much. I would even do my 2 am bottle shift again just to get to hold him and smell him and nibble on his neck. I asked his mommy if I could just take him home in my purse. Is that just a little selfish that she said no?

Anyway, thanks for letting me be the substitute helper during such a special event. I am no replacement for Mom/Grandma, but I loved it nonetheless!

Congratulations, Heather and Kirk! I love you, Jack-Jack!!

Name Your Neurosis

2009-12-30T17:03:00.000-08:00

Here is just a little insight to what is me. I like evens. I like even numbers. I like even numbers of things.

I don't really have anything to post. However, my total of posts for the year 2009 was sitting at 147. That was unacceptable. So, now we have hit 148. Good enough.

Happy New Year!

Which, by the way, is an even number.

Elfin Around

2009-12-27T00:30:00.000-08:00

There are some seriously creative people out in the world. I sure do appreciate all of the hard work that so many people put into being so smart and talented. I appreciate, even more, that I can glean from this hard work, making my cuteness and abilities seem so effortless. Sigh. Thank you. Seriously.

One of those amazingly talented people that I "borrow" from quite frequently, is my friend Melanie. A while back, she posted about a friend who had given her the idea of an elf coming to visit them in their home. It is there, of course, to spy on the children...to make sure that they are being good, in hopes that he can make a positive report back to the big guy in red. The elf is tricky, though. It doesn't want to be seen. So, if you stare at it, it turns to stone. Clever.

The idea of a small inanimate object in my home having the power to cause near perfect behavior, sounded a little fun to me. And, for the most part, simple enough.

Some of the fun stuff caused by this Christmas visitor?

1. Chase was sooooo stinkin' cute about being so lucky as to be receiving a visit from such a distinguished guest.

2. He really turned on the charm. He was as good as gold.

3. Chase helped me feel like a kid again, seeing the magic of Christmas as a child, through his eyes.

4. He received a little, itty-bitty note of farewell and warm wishes from the elf with the overactive schnoz, when his tour of duty came to an end.

5. From what I hear, Chase was quite the celebrity at school, having "seen" an elf.

Some of the less-than-positives?

1. I was running out of creative places for our elf-on-stakeout to go.

2. Chase was a little rattled when the elf dared make a hiding spot on the shelf in his bedroom. A little too spooky for my Christmas kid, I guess. Luckily, the elf was a quick study and never entered the "inner sanctum" again.

3. I was constantly improvising with the rules of engagement, especially after I got caught reaching to grab the sensitive sprite (after Chase recovered from his shock, the fun resumed and all was well. Silly, Mom).

4. My nerves were shot having to endure the pressure of not getting caught.

So, I am not sure how long the little guy was able to reside in Melanie's house. He only lasted 5 hours in ours. I quickly came to realize, however, that the short visit from this little squirt had had a big impact on MY little squirt when,

1. Chase's friend came upstairs to report that Chase really missed the elf and was downstairs crying.

2. In his letter to Santa, Chase asked if the elf could come back and visit next year.

Ah, such good intentions. I think for next year, to take the pressure off of everyone, I am going to borrow yet another friend's creativity. At her house, elves are invisible to children.

Hope you all had a fabulously Merry Christmas!

Every Party Needs a Pooper

2009-12-23T06:06:00.000-08:00

Warning:

This post may, or may not contain some material suited, or not suited for all ears. It's content may, or may not be appropriate for public viewing. I may, or may not...completely care.

hehehehehe

At the end of the day, on Chase's birthday, he and I were in his room admiring all of his fun birthday gifts from his friends. We settled on a race track that needed some assembly and sticker adornment. In the midst of our accessorizing the race track, Chase announced that he needed to take a visit to the powder room, and Mom, why don't you finish putting the stickers on that one part while I am gone.

To my joy, Chase left the door open while on the pot, enabling us to have quite the conversation while he took care of things. We chatted about his day, how it was the best birthday party ever. We shared excitement over his new toys and what wonderful friends he had who had gifted them to him. Oh, we had a lovely conversation. We have such a wonderfully open and communicative relationship, lofting the ability to share everything with each other. And I do mean, EVERYTHING.

As he was "wrapping" things up, it was very happily noted, to me, that this was the second time that day that he had gone "number two".

"Oh, yeah?" I answered back, with enthusiastic supportive tones, not wanting to underestimate the joy with which this news had been delivered.

"Yeah! It's 'cause today is my birthday! It's my lucky day!"

It warms my heart that such blessed things are not wasted on this kid. His silver lining is never really far from his grasp.

Is it your lucky day today?

One Year Older and Wiser, Too

2009-12-22T11:47:00.000-08:00

Wow. Have I taken a long enough vacation from the blogging world? I humbly apologize to my adoring followers (choke, choke, sputter, sputter) for my oh-so-long absence. It's December, you know. Lots 'o stuff happens in December. Just in case you didn't know. ;)

It's several days late now, but here goes anyway.

Happy Birthday, Jeffy!

I am not sure who looks the happiest about the birthday bash. Maybe cute baby Wade, I am thinking. Or, maybe it's that handsome boy that has leaped onto the counter, ready to pounce on the cinnamon rolls with the two meager candles stuck in them.

Anywhoo, happy birthday, Jeffy-poo. We sure think you are great. Thank you for everything you do for us. Here's to fortpphmphmmphhpmmhpmph more birthdays!

And, thanks for not wanting a realistic Harley Davidson cake for your birthday. I am not THAT talented!

If I Knew Then What I Know Now...

2009-12-14T11:48:00.000-08:00

...I probably wouldn't do anything different. Would you?

I still can't believe that I have fallen victim to being the owner of a puppy. I have frequent reality checks. So it begs the question, would I take it all back? Good question. I really do quite like her. I can't admit that without taking some serious flack. But, I do.

Here are some interesting things that I have learned about our puppy:

When I start hollering at Chase, Pepper takes it, too. She slinks off to a kitchen mat and puts her head down. Pretty efficient use of my time, I think. Two birds with one stone.

She gets to stay up super late with me, 'cause she doesn't talk...or ask for things.

Collars make good handle bars.

She is very loyal and loves you, no matter what. That's a pretty good deal. We often have to dish her a whole lot of "what".

When she wants in, she sings a staccato S.O.S at the back door. She is a little bit of a sissified tweety bird.

She has the same hearing as a six-year old. She feigns challenged hearing, when in her favor. When I rustle plastic, it wakes the "dead".

The term "puppy dog eyes" is not a misnomer.

The phrase "a boy and his dog", has new meaning for me.

At the end of the day, when all is said and done, and she snuggles on you and falls asleep, all of the "are you kidding me" moments fade away and you are pretty happy.

So, I guess this officially makes me one of "those". What can I say. If you really knew Pepper, I think you'd even like her, too. You might even forgive her for eating your garden shoe. She might even have you doing things that you swore you would never do. No, I am not talking about letting your dog lick off your ice cream cone. I will sell the dog and wash my mouth out with soap if I ever stoop to that. No, I am not one of "those". I am taking about posting pictures of her on my blog. I figure I have already incriminated myself by dedicating a whole post on her, I might as well post the evidence. At least I am not carrying any pictures of her in my purse. Heaven help me if I become one of "those".

Chase really loves his puppy. He is very protective of her. He has even forgiven her for accidently scratching his nostil when she accidently got her claw stuck up it. Chase gave her a little Rudolph toy. She has fallen in love with it.

Well, we sure like you, Pepper. At least for now, you are in good standing with your people.

Can't Buy Me Love

2009-12-13T08:00:00.000-08:00

Here is how much Chase doesn't like a home hair cut performed by Mom; he was willing to shell out the money from his own wallet.

When I dropped the bombshell on my poor son that the taming of his quaff would have to be performed by Edwina Scissorhand and her trusty weed whacker, he asked the inevitable question,

"Why?!?"

I politely had to remind him that money doesn't grow on trees...just cuz there's checks doesn't mean there's money...and all of the other great cliches we had drilled in our heads and promised we would never drill in our own children's heads.

Chase was so intent on not having to have his mom butcher his lovely hair, that he decided to make the ultimate sacrifice and pay for a professional do with his own carefully saved money. I smiled at his generosity and assured him that that wasn't necessary.

With one final attempt to grasp one final straw to be able to save himself 10 unnecessary minutes in the torture chamber, he asked,

"When is Dad going to pay you anyway, Mom?"

Out of This World, Out of My Mind, Out of Control, With a Whole Lot of Love

2009-12-11T23:02:00.000-08:00

The theme that we chose for Chase's b-day this year was Outer Space. I only tell you that in case you missed the not-so-subtle hint from my last post. Chase has always had a passion for the planets and all things stellar. It seemed such a perfect way to celebrate his special day.

So, the "out of my mind" bit? We invited 16 guests. I was not the least bit worried about it. We have had some not-so-hot luck with his parties in years past. Less than 50% of those invited are able to come. Wouldn't you know it. Not this year. Yikes! It was a little crazy, to say the least. Fitting, though. My house was filled with all sorts of aliens for the better part of two hours.

The aliens lined up in the hallway, waiting to have a whack at the rocket filled with goodies.

Opening the loot. At first, I didn't even give this aspect a second thought. A lot of guests equals a lot of gifts. Gulp. That was a lot of toys.

Chase and I decorated the "space station" with Styrofoam ball planets, painted by Chase, and Cheerio moons, painted by Mom. We spare no expense here.

Dad made "Bob" for Chase's newly made-over room. "Bob" looked way different in my mind when Jeff said he was making Chase a "homemade" birthday gift this year. I should have remembered that while my medium is toilet paper rolls and Elmer's glue, Jeff's might be a little more upscale. All he got from me was a pillow and pillow case. Nice, Mom.

So what is so out of control? Six years, people. How is my baby six years old? It both thrills me, and breaks my heart. I want time to slow down. I want my baby to stay my baby forever. I want him to stay in my safe bubble forever. But, in the same token, it is so amazing to watch him grow. He is such spectacular boy. I just want to eat him. He is funny, sweet, smart, kind, and full of surprises. I am soooooo glad that I get to be his mom. Every day is an adventure with this sweet pea.

He lives life with gusto. All day on his b-day, he would snap back into reality and say, "I'm a birthday boy today! I can't believe today is my birthday!"

Funny side note. After Chase opened his first gift from one of his best buddies of 5 and a half years, I quietly prompted Chase by asking, "What do you say, Chase?" Chase stood frozen while staring at his newly opened treasure. He was finally able to eek out a,

"Oh, Tayden, I LOVE you!"

I was actually thinking a simple thank you would have been sufficient. Whatever works for you, buddy.

It is with a whole lot of love, that I say, "Well, done, Chase!" We sure love you, Son, and are so proud of you. We are in awe of the amazing person that you are. We can't wait to see what the next 6 years will bring!

Preview of Greatness

2009-12-09T13:27:00.001-08:00

Well, I did it again. I took another stab at another birthday cake. I am getting braver in my old age.

But this time? This time...I out did myself. There will be no modest humility here. Nope. I am quite proud of this cake. This is some serious birthday cake. I used fondant, for crying out loud. It takes some seriously dedicated nerves of steel to make and use fondant. Yup, that's me. Nerves of steel. giggle giggle giggle

So, go ahead and tell me how wonderful it is. I can take it.

And, go ahead and be extra impressed that the "planets" are in the right order. That is, if you could tell what planets they are. Okay, I take that back. Don't scrutenize. Just be impressed!

Note the purplish-grey nebulas. They are appropriately
placed to hide the tears in the fondant.

Note the adorable mop-top birthday boy. He was pretty excited about his day. That is, until SuperMom demoted herself to JustPlainMom by announcing that Mom was going to be giving him a haircut before school. She is not nearly as talented as the girls that spoil him at Great Clips. Just a lot cheaper.

Birthday post still to come. I have decided to do Chase's birthday bash in segments. I have been told that my posts are painfully long. Ouch.

"I Lived in Heaven a Long Time Ago...

2009-12-08T13:26:00.000-08:00

...where I drove a car and swam in a pool". At least according to Chase.

I was imparting my pearls of wisdom upon my child, in the form of a story from my past. Chase asked a question that I have been hearing from him a lot lately.

"Was I there when that happened?"

I mentioned to him that this story took place way before he was ready to be born. He said,

"Oh, yeah! That's right. That's when I was in heaven driving my car and swimming in the pool."

"Really?" I asked. "Was that fun or what!?

"Yeah, it was really fun. I would drive my car around for a while. Then I would be ready to swim, so I would jump in the deep end."

"Really? And you weren't scared without an adult being there with you?"

"No, Jesus was there with us. We weren't scared at all".

Gotta Be Prepared

2009-12-07T00:40:00.000-08:00

Last week, before the snow had fallen, Chase was inside being the best helper ever. He was taking my long list of chores and jobs like a champ. Imagine his excitement when I told him that the next and last job I needed him to do was to go outside and play with Pepper. He readily agreed. I then heard a lot of shuffling in the laundry room. I finally decided to investigate why it's necessary to rearrange a coat locker on the way out the door to play with a puppy.

"Well, Mom, you have to be prepared."

Prepared for what, I am not sure. I guess, then, that I am feeling quite relieved that a baby rhino didn't make it onto our list of pet choices. I am also quite satisfied knowing that when the excited puppy runs up and down Chase's cute face, dirt won't get in his eyes.

Baggage

2009-12-04T09:03:00.000-08:00

The week before Thanksgiving, Jeff and I cleaned out our closet. We took 8 bags of clothes and one bag of toys to DI. I have one more bag that has been filled since. Now that is some serious baggage.

Included in the goodies headed to DI, were all of my not-so-skinny pants. Here is what those pants look like held up to me now:

Now, before I show you the picture of me being brave enough to drop the pants, please remember a few things. Firstly, my photographer. He may be the cutest 5 year old with a camera, but he has a ticklish funny bone. This whole thing was cracking him up, making his attention to detail a little hazy. So, not the best pictures ever. Lastly, I am hestitant in doing this now because I am only half way through the race. I have lost 58 pounds, but still have 55 more to go. I feel fabulous. I am THRILLED with how I look and feel. BUT, I do have a journey left to travel.

So,

Here,

Goes,

Nothing!

These pictures crack me up. I was trying to do the "Ta da! Look at me now!" pose. But our timing was so off. I would stand there posed and posed and posed. Chase would giggle and giggle and squirm. By the time the picture would snap, I was exiting pose and beginning a lecture. So, you get what you pay for, I guess!

We'll see what we have learned by the end of the race, in another 6 months!