Gourd-ita

The other day, Gourd-ita made an appearance on our front lawn. Isn't she pretty? She makes such a great addition to the existing pieces of lawn art already in place in our front yard, i.e. neighbor children's shoes and neighbor children's toys.

We really like our gift. Really, we do. We would like to know who to thank for our beautiful Gourd-ita, however. Our mysterious squash artisan deserves proper accolades. If you see fit to enlighten us, we also have a few questions for you.

We are a little confused as to what to do with her. Being the people-pleaser that I am, I want to take the appropriate action as to not offend the gifter. Are we supposed to eat her? Is the purpose of Gourd-ita to share with us the bounty that was your garden? Or, is she to add to the Autumn Ambiance that now resides on my front porch?

Either way, thank you for our treasure. We are touched by Gourd-ita's late-night appearance to our landscape via the zucchini bandit. If you choose to remain anonymous, we completely understand. We will just have to take our chances with our course of action. Our choices are to leave Gourd-ita where she lies, for all to enjoy. She will meet a frosty end, however. Too much more time out there and her produce parts will freeze. Or, we can eat her, one piece at a time, opting to deeply offend our Produce Picasso.


At any rate, thanks for thinking of us! We love the creative lengths you went through to to try to deplete your squash-plants-run-a-muck. It is way more impressive than the old standby of coming out of church on Sunday to a front seat full of overrun veggies!

Child Psychology Misfire

You know, it's a sad day when all of the psycho-babble and manipulating double-talk that we rely on as a parent, fails to work. We work so hard to perfect this that it seems unfair our children get smart so quickly and catch on to what we are doing.

Last week, Chase was a homework-lovin', pencil-totin' whiz kid. He came home last Monday with his homework folder and asked if it was okay if he did it ALL in ONE day. He was a MACHINE. No fire-poker needed to jump start that kindergartner. This week, thanks to the wide-swinging pendulum that resides in the mood-setting part of 5-year old brains, we are back to teeth-pulling, cattle-prodding and a generous helping of you-want-some-cheese-with-that-whine.

Thankfully, being the fabulous mother that I am, I am fully trained and ready for such occasions. I start with psychology.

"Chase, remember that sweet boy who did his homework here last week? You know, that boy who loved his homework so much that he wanted to do it all in one day? What happened to THAT boy? Where did HE go?"

Chase turned to look at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes. He leaned in closer to my face, and said, with great intention,

"He went to town...'cause he already DID his HOMEWORK!"

Kirk and Heather, I am soooo excited for you two to get to enroll in this amazing institution called parenthood. You are going to be fabulous!! In just a few more months, you, too, will be purchasing your own life-time pass to this amusement park, full of never ending roller coaster rides and fast-talking carnies. We welcome you, whole-heartedly, TO THE CLUB!

Sympathy Pains

My thigh muscles are so sore right now. We're talking, OWEEEEE! I have no control over my leg muscles and am prone to spastic flailing as my noodle-legs buckle underneath me. Descending stairs, trying to sit on a toilet, and basically anything else, is quite painful...if not quite hilarious, embarrassing, and loud.

To assist me further in my muscle toning and prolonging the agony of sore and seizing muscles, I have bought a resistance cord. Chase has fallen in love with it. All of a sudden he has become so obsessed with doing his "exercises". He stands on the cord and pulls the handles up so hard that his little face turns red, along with an occasional squeaker that eeks out due to the excessive squeezing. I lost count of how many times my little manly-man returned back to his "exercises" yesterday. This has all come at a price, however.

This morning, Chase woke up a little concerned. He came in and told me that something was wrong with his arms. They "really hurt right here", pointing to his bicep region. Ahhh...I sighed. My baby has his first sore muscles! Then I thought...can they do that? I didn't know that the Energizer Bunny was capable of pulling something that wasn't really there to begin with. But, nonetheless, Chase had sore ones this morning. He asked me when the hurt was going to go away. I tenderly and sympathetically told him that they will start feeling better in the next few days.

I over-heard a little bit of a conversation that Chase had with his friend at church today. I heard my little Hans say to Franz, "Dude, don't touch my arm there. I have sore muscles from my exercises yesterday."

After church, Chase and I sat at the kitchen island and played "Office". This is an activity we do when Mom has a lot of choir stuff to get ready for choir practice on Sunday afternoons. He sat on one side while I sat across from him on the other side. There was an awful lot of moaning and groaning coming from the two of us. We were quite a pair, with our over-extended physique.

We have an old phone set that we use to authenticate our setting as an "office". We used the phones for many reasons today. Mom asked to borrow the stapler from her boss, and asked permission to head to the "supply room" to get some tape. She even called once to remind her boss that Skittles were being served as refreshments in the break room. The boss called a few times to invite Mom to the break room to join him in eating the refreshments, and could he please get his stapler back.

The best phone call of all came when Chase called and asked me a question.

"Um, I was just wondering when the "feeling better" was going to start feeling better? My arms HURT!"

I must have given a good answer. My sore employer told me a little later that I will never get fired...'cause I am the bestest Mommy in the whole world.

Suffering seems so much easier when you have someone to suffer with.

Creative Thinking

For a bedtime story last night, I chose a book that I remember reading from my childhood. We read Caps For Sale, by Esphyr Slobodkina. I don't remember, as a child, if I had a reaction when I read the author's name then. I would like to bet, however, that I giggled as immaturely as I did last night, as an adult.

Anyway, in this book, a cap peddler keeps his 10 caps for selling stacked on top of his head. While taking a nap, 10 monkeys steal his caps and climb a tree. The man tries to get the monkeys to return the caps by shaking a finger and shouting at them. The monkeys shake a finger and make a sound back. The man then tries shaking two fingers at them, while shouting. The monkeys then shake two fingers and make a noise back. Getting more angry, the man stamps one foot and yells even louder. The monkeys, of course, stamp one foot and rattle something back. Nearing his wits end, the man stamps both feet and really hollers at the monkeys.

Being the teacher that I am, I ask a lot of questions. I asked Chase if he could tell me, based on the developing pattern in the story, what the monkeys were going to do in return. My intently listening and completely enthralled son very seriously answered,


"Fling pooh?"


Uh, tee hee hee. No, tee hee hee. Not quite the answer I was going for, tee hee hee. BUT, very creative indeed.

Hate Mail

It has been said that if your children don't like when you exercise firm parenting on them, you are doing a great job as a parent. I must say...I AM SUPERB.

Yesterday, Chase had a Nuclear Core Meltdown. I am not even going to wonder where he learned such a blessed talent from.

Chase's unraveling began when I kindly removed the chocolate candy, gifted to us by our neighborhood grandma, from his reach. After a polite invitation to stop now and paste a smile on his face, or keep going into a tail-spin of consequences and 5-year old suffering, he chose to tail-spin. After his chocolates were calmly thrown in the garbage, he promptly, and dramatically, invited HIMSELF to Time-Out, muttering some very mild threats that I knew I wouldn't be so lucky enough for him to actually follow through with.

With the puppy pouting in the laundry room, and Chase pouting in his bedroom, I felt like the victor in a boxing ring. I triumphantly sat down and watched the news. Chase did make a quick re-entrance, though...but only long enough to feverishly cross my name off of the project he had been working on as a gift for me. Underneath the scribble, he wrote, "DAD".

Several minutes later, Chase emerged again. With a look of reticence on his face, Chase was asked if he was done with his fit, or if he needed another minute to cool down. He said he was done. It was quickly appareant that this was not the case when a wadded-up paper ball was tossed with a non-chalant, see-me-please-but-don't-see-me-please flair, over his shoulder.

This time, Chase was ushered to his room with a polite invitation to not come out until his attitude changed, or he could be eating dinner in his cell.

I then remembered the cannonball that had been launched in my general direction and was curious as to it's content. My elation at my son's first ever attempt to sound out and write his very first sentence ever, was short lived. It read:


i dnt lk u mom


Sigh. As a five year old, he is prone to mood swings as unexplained as his sporadic use of vowels. He swung back into favor with me soon after, though. Remember, I did get a snuggle, a compliment, and a pat on my head at bedtime a few hours later.

Only one question remains. Do I scrap book this little piece of a childhood milestone? I mean, it is quite an educational breakthrough...even if it was hurled at me.

Thanks for Noticing

A little over a week ago, in one of my posts, I mentioned that our puppy Pepper tinkled on our forbidden living room carpet. Well, okay, EVERY carpet is forbidden. But our living room is exceptionally forbidden. We are not allowed to play in there, let alone deposit anything starting with the word "number".

Later in the week, my brazen Pepper completely lost her marbles and defiled the SAME spot in the SAME room with the SAME infraction. I decided my conniption fit from the last deposit must not have been dramatic and/or scary enough to get it through her doggie brain that my living room is not her personal latrine. So, I upped the ante. I lost MY marbles. I mean, I hit the fan. I used a few choice "hot sauce" words while carrying her leaky faucet intently toward the door. I threw her out , slammed the door on her furry bum, then proceeded to rant and rave. I was so blinded by my hysteria that I hadn't seen Chase. He stood stunned and horrified. I continued my blubbering, however. Soon, he was found sitting at the back door with his nose pressed on the glass, "rubbing" noses with the little criminal on the other side. I heard him quietly betraying me by tearfully whispering,

"I don't want you to freeze to death, Pepper. Please don't freeze to death, Pepper."

My sister, Heather, became the next innocent victim of my rantings and ravings when she accidentily called on the phone. Bless her heart. After she got over the shock of her insane sister's ability to let loose, she nervously asked if it was okay to laugh. I told her to go ahead, but not to be expecting me to be joining her anytime soon. That lasted for about 2 more minutes. I joined her.

We eventually did let Pepper back in. Chase and I made a pact to hit this challenge head on. We were going to be Pepper's personal potty coaches. He did make me promise, though, to never do that again. My hissy fit apparently had a pretty big impact on him. While playing in the sandbox, I heard him tell his friends that if Pepper ever pees on the carpet again, his mom is giving her away.

We laid out our plan of attack and went to work. Chase and I have been diligent. She is a quick study (we think). Late this afternoon, she completely impressed Chase and me. She got up from her assigned spot in our laundry room and went and stood at the door. Chase and I were elated! She was asking to use the potty! A breakthrough! We excitedly opened the door, all the while gushing over her achievement. As she began her descent out the door, she was hit in the face with cold and pelting sleet. She tucked her tail between her legs, threw herself into reverse, and promptly started to pee at the edge of the carpet. I then helped her "take" herself outside. I threw a very mini hissy...only to remind Pepper of the unacceptable choice of sprinkle spots...and calmly went back to Chase's homework.

Tonight, Chase and I were having a chat in his bed at bedtime. I asked him what his favorite part of the day was. He offered several great choices. To extend the conversation time, Chase volunteered his least favorite part of the day as well. My reaction to Pepper's potty caper was so understated that I had actually forgotten about it. I only remembered because Chase had chosen that as his least favorite activity of the day. He very quickly remembered to reward my good behavior by stating,

"You did REALLY good today, Mom! I am so proud of you!"

I think he went a tad bit too far when the compliment was accompanied with a scratch and a pat on my head.

Funny Bone

I have a very exposed funny bone. Make me really tired and put me under a certain amount of pressure, with an even higher amount of sugar, and you will really get a reaction. I am not sure why, but I am a sucker for someone with a dry sense of humor. These people are stealth. They can throw a funny at you that you didn't even see coming. You have no idea what hit you...which makes it even funnier. These people are truly funny.

People have funny bones in different places. Some are on the surface. Some are where they are supposed to be. Some are buried deep, yet still accessible...once in a while. Some people, however, were not issued one at all when the optional, non-vital body parts were being handed out. I don't always do well with those kind of people. I am too irreverent for those kind of people. I just know that I love to laugh. I also know that I need to do it waymore often.

Here are a few funnies that were thrown my way this weekend. Both of these statements caught me off guard and earned a very honest reaction:

After conference today, my brother and I were discussing the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and the qualifications required to be in this said, amazing group. Jeremy's reaction was a little incredulous as I mentioned some of the audition requirements that I have heard that potential choir members have to endure. One of the things I have heard that is used in auditions is the use of Solfege (which is the use of Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Ti Do in sight reading music. These words represent notes in the musical scale and the steps you hear between them). Jeremy seemed unimpressed with my telling him that choir members had to know how to use Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Ti Do. The realization that he had no idea what I was talking about came when he said,

"You mean, like in a sentence?"

Still makes me Laugh!!

As my friend and I were nearing the end of a very grueling workout Saturday morning, we could not help but be sooooo proud of each other. Between our heavy, close-to-obscene breaths, we were oozing compliments at each other as our puddin' legs wobbled down the horrific set of Old Main stairs. You could hear us saying things like, "Way to go"..."I am so proud of you!"..."I am so proud of us!"..."I can't believe we did that!"..."You are amazing!"..."YOU are amazing!"..."WE are amazing!"

My friend then enthusiastically exclaimed, "Let's go eat a pie!"

I cackled loud enough for the whole valley to hear me. I almost rolled down the remaining stairs. Did I mention this workout is at 6:00 AM?


Oh, I love to laugh. Thank you for providing me with stuff to laugh at. I REALLY appreciate it!