Well, what do ya know

People would be surprised to learn that…

...I do actually wash the sliding glass door in my kitchen once a month. And on that one day, the house is that much brighter. Too bad it doesn't last long.

...Boys, no matter how hard you try, are born saying the words, "Bang! Bang! Bang!" Try as you will, but their fingers will naturally take the shape of a gun. In fact it isn't limited to their fingers. Any object, mostly vacuum attachments in my house, can and will become a weapon of some sort.

...I make my children share towels. If you are the first to bath, sweet! You get the dry towel. If you are the tortoise, then you  not only get the cold shower, you also get the thrice used towel. You may as well shake yourself off like a dog, because there is not one dry spot on that towel.

...I would wear jeans every day if I could. You know, the loose baggy kind. Because frumpy is the new sexy.

...Whole wheat cinnamon rolls...not so yummy. Ask my children...and my hubby...and my brother...and my dog. I ran out of normal white flour, so I ground up some wheat for flour and substituted it instead. Not good.

...Kasey, from the Bachelorette is TOTALLY deaf. I have been working with Deafies for 15 years and I can tell by his voice. Just in case you were all wondering. That being said, I am so glad he is gone...tattoo and all.

...Our dog Rufus, who is a male dog, pees like a girl dog. He also likes my son...quite a bit.

And finally, you all would be surprised to learn that...

...I have two bladders. It is true. With each child, the ultrasound technician lets out a curious, "Huh. Interesting." To which I answer, "Yes. That extra sack there...bladder." This would explain why I can take an eight hour trip, drink a 44oz drink and not have to go to the bathroom until we reach our destination. It would also explain my impatience with my husband, who I swear has a teaspoon sized bladder, has to pull over 4 or 5 times.

Were you surprised?? Come on now. Surprise me...

(Thanks, Mama Kat, for the inspiration for this post.)

So I Married a Deaf Man: Let us pray

When I was young...don't you hate stories that start that way...my parents taught me how to pray. You knelt down, folded your arms, bowed your head, closed your eyes and humbly said a prayer. We prayed often in our house: in the morning when we woke, at night before we went to bed,  at every meal and then again if there was a special need. And this doesn't include our own personal prayers. I love it!

Hubs and I also have taught our children to pray. When they kneel at night in their rooms, they take the same position: kneeling down, arms folded, head bowed and eyes closed.

Family prayer, however, is somewhat complicated. You see, we sign our prayers in our house. So if you are closing your eyes, you will not be able to hear the prayer. Eyes must be open. And, as you can expect, once the eyes are open, all other rules of prayer go out the window.

Though they are supposed to be watching the person who is praying, most the time they are watching the one who is doing something worthy of a kick in the pants a laugh or two or a million. Once that starts there is no turning back. Even if they are trying to pay attention to the pray-er, all it takes is one off movement and we've lost them.
What is a parent to do? Yell at one child while the other is trying so hard to pray? We have tried the whole rewarding of good behavior. That works for maybe two nights. We have tried the punishment for disrupting prayer and still it happens. We have made those who are irreverent have to stay after prayer and sit at "prayer attention" just to prove to us that they know how to act in a prayer. Believe me, they know how. I haven't tried duct tape, but I am very tempted. (Isn't that Christlike?)

Here's the thing...they are kids. And when they see something funny, they are going to giggle, which brings on more silliness which  induces more laughter...and so the cycle goes.

If they could just.close. their. eyes...

Flock or Devil

Today has been a crazy busy day. I decided we were going to take 30 minutes and clean the back yard. Well, after 3 hours, it looks really nice. And now, here it is 10pm and I still haven't posted. Isn't that how life goes sometimes.... So without further ado...

It's time again for the Would You Rather game. I was going through the cards last night and I was rolling on the floor because the questions were so funny.

Here is your question:

Would you rather be followed everywhere you went by a flock of birds OR a cloud of dust?

Hmmm... A flock of birds...

Are these birds the kind that fly around cleaning my house with me if I sing the "Happy Working Song" from Enchanted? Or are they more like the birds from Evan Almighty...you know the pooping, landing on people's heads, scaring everyone birds?

Can you imagine? You would have people coming up to you all the time saying, "Hey, did you know that there is a flock of birds following you everywhere you go?" No, really? What gave that away? The poop all over my hair and clothes or was the constant chirping?

Hmmm...a cloud of dust...

I kinda feel like that already. I do have 4 boys and a rough and tough girl. Not a day goes by that I am not up to my eyeballs in dirt. The whole dirt thing, I get that. However, it would actually be on me. Very different.

I wear contacts and so this actually sounds really unpleasant at first glance. I also like to laugh a lot and  like chewing gum. Dirt flying constantly around me is just not compatible to any of these things. Then, imagine winter time and runny noses, sleep eyes..etc. Can you imagine a trip to the dentist? Not pretty. Not at all.

But Pigpen still had friends, right? People were able to look past the dirt because, for the most part, he was the mess. But a flock of birds...we are not talking about one bird going to the bathroom from above. We are talking a whole flock of birds. We are all targets at that point. Not really something that attracts friends. 

And so, I am going to go with a cloud of dust. A little dirt, I can handle. A lot of dirt, I am still okay. Constantly being pooped on by things that are NOT my children...problematic.


What about you? Which would you rather??

How much damage you got??

I don't know why I even try sometimes. With four boys and one husband, the fight of the video games is a losing battle. When it was just the computer, it wasn't such a big deal. Don't get me wrong...it is still a deal, just not a big deal.

Now we have a big deal. That is because we got a Wii a couple years ago and since then our life has never been the same. My boys, if I let them, could play all day long and not get tired of it. My daughter, not so much. What is it about boys and technology? I have one son who wakes up thinking about it...asks all day for it...goes to bed dreaming about.

They are only allowed to play it one day a week. At least that is the goal. Sometimes it is twice, but most the time we stick to the one day. They are allowed 30 min -1 hour depending  on how many chain links they have earned during the week. But I tell you, 30 minutes in gaming time to my boys is like 5 minutes. It is crazy!

The games are always on their mind. You can tell this by the lnaguage or gaming lingo that they use. For example, yesterday, we went swimming at the aquatic center. It was time to get out of the house and what better place than the indoor swimming pool.

I was playing with my two older boys. Brody, 5 years old, was splashing me like a mad fool. I couldn't even look up. I wasn't wearing goggles and I had my contacts in so it was me losing, him winning. Then he started to splash Kobe, who did have goggles.

Kobe says "No damage.  Zero damage. ZEEEE ROOO Damage"

I thought that was funny. Who talks like that???

Apparently my 16 month old knows how to do damage. I guess he's had enough of this gaming stuff.  Last night my husband walked into the downstairs bathroom and found a Wii controler in the toilet.

Now that is some major damage! (to the ring of $40!)

Passport Please

I am reading the book, "Eat, Pray, Love". It is a pretty good book, minus the swearing...there is a lot more in there than I care to read. But it is about this gal who travels the world...well, at least 3 places, in order to be fulfilled and to find herself.

(I don't quite understand that. I don't understanding leaving home to find oneself. But that isn't what I want to talk about here.)

This woman had always wanted to go to Italy. So much so that she decided to move there simply to learn the language... to experience it all. When people ask me, "If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?" My first answer is, "To bed." Not really. But I have to think about it. Anywhere? I really don't know how to answer that question.

Growing up we didn't have a lot of money. So when we would travel anywhere it was usually to visit family. The only vacationing that we ever did was camping. We didn't travel to Disneyland, or to some great location just because it was a great location. We would travel to visit family and if there was something along the way we would stop and see it: the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone National Park, Lagoon. So travel has a different meaning to me, I guess.

I have a friend who has had the opportunity to take his family and live in England for several years. While there he and his wife have been to Paris, Rome, Venice, Sweden, Ireland, London, and so forth. What a fun experience for them. I just can't even imagine.

But for me, I am a home body. Traveling the world really isn't appealing to me. Not because I am not interested in other cultures, because I am. Not because I hate to fly, because I don't mind it. Is it because I am afraid of new things?.No, I don't think that is the reason. Though, maybe it is a little, but no more than most people.

Maybe I am a little intimidated by the unknown. I don't know the language and because Hubs is deaf I would be the speaker and hearer and  be totally responsible for our welfare. But I have five children! I am used to being responsible.

Am  I worried that I won't like the food? I don't think that is possible. I like most foods. As long as it isn't raw or slimy, I am good.

I am not completely opposed to going, and if the opportunity presented itself and there was reason to go, then I would go. And I am sure that I would enjoy it and it would be a chance of a lifetime.

But for now, I would settle for seeing all the amazing things that this country of mine has to offer. NYC, Yosemite, Nashville, the Great Lakes, the Rocky Mountains, etc.  So much I haven't seen here. Let's start there...then maybe...just maybe I could venture into another country to appreciate what there is to appreciate there!

What about you? Do you like to travel? Do you think I am crazy? Where would you go?

Sticky Fat

Mama Kat suggests that we write a letter to the one thing that is keeping me from losing weight.

So the first person I though about writing to was my husband. I mean, I didn't have a weight problem until I started having babies. And I didn't start having babies until I married him. So marrying him made me gain weight.  But I don't want to be UN-married to him. So...here's the letter I wrote to him:

Dear Hubs,
Stop getting me pregnant. I really need to get skinny again. Really!
Thanks!
Wifey

After writing this letter, I realized that he has had THE operation. So, even though he is partly to blame for the gain, he is no longer the reason for my weight loss struggle.

What about...oh, I know. It must be my children. They are the ones who are always asking me to make cookies, and ice cream and such sweet goodness. How can I resist their little faces? So the letter to them went something like this:

Dear Five Adorable Children,

We will no longer be having treats. From now on we will be having whole wheat, homemade, fat free, sugar free wafers that will make you regular and make me skinny. I know you will look back at your childhood and remember hating me everyday of your lives. That's what moms are for.

Love,
Mommy

Then I realized that my children weren't forcing the cookies down my throat and that it wouldn't be good to totally ruin their childhood.

The next thought was, it must be my job.

Dear Job,
Stop making me fat! You take me away from all that is good and bring me to a place that has a break room full of chocolate, and cookies, and cheese and such. Then all I do is go and sit. So, stop making me fat!
Thanks,
Interpreter Stef

But I can't quit my job...well, I guess I could. But living in a our van down by the river is not very appealing to me. No shower, no toiley...not a good idea.

The list goes on and on of people and things I could blame: Father Time, sticky fat, my alarm clock, procrastination, my scale, Sonic, my neighbor's dog, my iPhone, Hershey's, etc.

But the real letter that needed to be written is this:

Dear Chubby Self
Do you like being overweight? Do you like not fitting into your skinny jeans that are only skinny to you? No? Well, then make a choice. Do something about it. Stop blaming everyone else and get off your butt and do something about it! You have everything you need to lose weight right here. Make it happen.
Sternly,
Skinny Self

So I married a Deaf Man: Going to the Chapel

Church...a place of worship... a place of peace...a place of relative quietness. Oh, sure, every meeting/service has it's moments of outbursts, but overall quiet reverence is the rule.

When we lived in Utah and then Arizona, we attended the Deaf Branch. This means that the majority of those in attendance are either deaf, a spouse or family member of a deaf person, or, on rare occasion, a hearing person who knows ASL and wants to attend.

When I tell people that we went to a Deaf church, their comment is almost always the same:

"Oh, I bet it was so quiet and peaceful. That must be nice."

My response:

(Holding my sides,) "Hold on one second. Bwahahahahahaha!!.. Oh...Oh..boy..."(wiping tears from my eyes).

You see, in case your forgot, Deaf people can't hear.

This means, when they are choosing toys to keep their children quiet in church, they usually load up the one that has music...excuse me, I mean loud annoying music playing. Not just one..most of the time it is several. So it wasn't uncommon, in the middle of the prayer, to hear, "La la lala, la la lala, Elmo's World."

This also means that they can't hear their children fighting over the noisy toy. Or their cute child singing the song in their head out loud....LOUD. They also can't hear their children talking to their neighbor who is across the room about their many Saturday adventures. (I will have to do a post about children of deaf adults or CODAs. Understanding that would help you understand just how much noise they can make. Tazzmanian devil comes to mind.)

There is also a lot of visual noise. See, when hearing people talk to each other across the room, it makes a lot of noise and thus would be highly distracting and disruptive to ALL in attendance. ASL, however, is not loud. In fact, there isn't much noticable noise that you can hear.  So you can speak to someone across the room and no-one will hear you...with their ears that is.

But visually, there is a lot going on. There is nothing like looking away from the boring speaker and "hearing" about what Joanie did for the weekend and how she can't believe that Tanya would say such a horrible thing about her. It is distracting because in order to "hear" the speaker you have to see them...which means you have to look past the multiple conversations that are going on within your view.

So my answer is a big fat "No! Deaf services are not quiet. "

Not even close.

What's in your shower?

There are some things that you expect to see in your shower when you wake up in at the crack of dawn. Shampoo, yes. Conditioner, yes. Face and body soap, yes. Perhaps a washcloth. And depending how long it has been, a little soap residue. But you can bet I was not expecting to see what I saw this morning. I opened the curtain....

...and there he stood. Pointing his little gun right at me. My arms immediately flew up. "Is that thing loaded?" I asked myself. Surely he won't hurt me.

But then I looked at the three dead security guards he was standing on and it didn't look good.  He was one unhappy hairball.

I peeked at the other end of my shower....

I saw this carnage. 

So much innocence lost... for what? 

Who was he after? Was it me he was seeking?

He had taken out Buzz. Poor Buzz. He was so ready for his comeback, with the new movie debute this past weekend. So unfair. He was so young.

He took out 3 Jedi's. Okay, so two are Jedi's and the other was just a good guy (Captain Lando, or so I am told.)

As if killing Jedi knights, the ulimate good, isn't enough, he took out a Manny, the wooly mammoth! Doesn't he know they are extinct!! Who kills an already extinct animal!? That's just cruel and heartless!!  

And as if that wasn't enough, he took out a plane, a rescue helicopter and a T-Rex. This guy really had it in for someone.

Long story short, I was able to talk him through it...(in Shyriiwook, which is Wookie language).

Apparently he was feeling trapped. He wanted out...he wanted to be free.

So I set him free.

Free to roam amoung Potato Head parts and legos. Probably a Little Pet shop animal or two as well.

So, my firends, be very cautious when you enter your shower in the morning. 

You may just be suprised.

What's in your shower? 

Three strikes... YOU. ARE. OUT!

My kids and I headed over to the local high school track to run a mile or two. I was running, walking, mostly walking. Kids were riding bikes, running, etc. Pretty soon they come asking for water. Oh, man! I totally forgot to bring water. What kind of mom makes their kids go run a mile around a track in the middle of summer and doesn't bring water??? I guess the me kind. Strike one.

There is a little pool in our community that is quite fun to play in. Camden finally got his cast off, so on Thursday we headed for the water. We get there, hop into the pool and were in there for about an hour and a half when I realize, I didn't put sunscreen on the kids. Oh man! Luckily Camden had on a swimming shirt. But everyone else's white skin was fully exposed to the midday summer sun. It was lovely. Strike two!

I noticed that Brody had been biting his cheeks for a couple of days. So I asked him if his teeth were bothering him. He said no. Then I proceeded to explain to him that if they did hurt and he didn't tell me and I did nothing about it, then it would only hurt worse everyday until it hurt so bad he would want to die. Okay, so not in those exact words...but still, it was enough that he changed his mind and said yes. Long story short, he had 2 pretty bad cavities and one small one. He was so sad and I was so humiliated and sad. Strike three.

Mommy guilt enters the scene. I could handle the water. I know there are others who have done this. The sunscreen, really bad on my part, but a minor memory lapse that only takes once to never forget again...at least not this season. And out of everyone I got burned to most so I figure I have my pay back.

But the cavity! Cavities!! I hate dentists to begin with because I have super weak teeth. But to have my 5 YEAR OLD have 3 cavities.. I about sent myself to the guillotine. We brush. We brush every day. Flossing, not so much. Ugh!! These are his teeth we are talking about. I just feel so horrible.

Why? Why do we have to have mommy guilt? Why do we have that inner voice, constantly telling us that we are not good enough. And then when we do something to prove that theory right, in comes guilt, "See, I told you so. You let your children burn in the sun! Then you made them dehydrated and now you are ruining their teeth which in turn will RUIN THEIR LIVES. And not just for now. Forever!!

I don't think that men feel this guilt. Or at least not to the degree that we moms do. Whatever guilt they feel, they get over it quicker than we do. They make a mistake, shrug their shoulders, learn from it and move on. No looking back, no guilt, just "Onward!"

The only cure I see is God. He promises to open the windows of Heaven if we will simply seek Him daily. Prayer, scriptures, and then listen. I am pretty sure that He isn't necessarily going to tell us to remember the water, or the sunscreen or the flossing. Not that He couldn't, because He could.

More importantly, though, He sends those whisperings...those affirmations that I am a child of God. That He knows who I am. He knows that I am good enough. He knows that I can do it. And He knows that with His help, my kids will turn out okay.

Get thee hence, Mommy guilt!

I know who I am.

Good Night Sleep?

This is the bed that she bought.

This is the mommy, tired and exhausted,

that lay in the bed that she bought.

This is her oldest, kind and tender,

 who cuddled the mommy, tired and exhausted,

 that lay in the bed that she bought.

This is her daughter, sweet and sassy,

that pinched her oldest, kind and tender,

 who cuddled the mommy, tired and exhausted

that lay in the bed that she bought.

This is her middle, smiley and sneaky,
who jumped on her daughter, sweet and sassy,
 that pinched her oldest, kind and tender
who cuddled the mommy, tired and exhausted
that lay in the bed that she bought.

This is the runt, loving and fragile,
that licked the middle, smiley and sneaky,
who jumped on her daughter, sweet and sassy,
that pinched her oldest, kind and tender
who cuddled the mommy, tired and exhausted
that lay in the bed that she bought.

Here is her baby, chubby and cheeks,
he slobbered the runt, loving and fragile,
that licked the middle smiley and sneaky,
 who jumped on her daughter, sweet and sassy,
that pinched her oldest, kind and tender
who cuddled the mommy tired and exhausted
that lay in the bed that she bought.

This is the Daddy.

He looked at the bed that he bought.

He saw all his children,
chubby and cheeks,
loving and fragile,
 smiley and sneaky,
 sweet and sassy,
kind and tender
who cuddled their mommy tired and exhausted
all lying in the bed that he bought.

Here is where Daddy slept.

Poor Mommy.

**This post was inspired by the wonderful book "Pizza Pat."

Ready to Laugh

I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that my husband, with all his Mafia War-ing has messed up my computer....grrrrr. Darn Mafia! They can be so annoying sometimes.

The good news is that I am guest posting (I think that is what it is called) over at Laugh Out Loud. It's an oldie post, but a goodie. Go check me out. 

I really like this blog because it has all the funny blogs that you love in one spot. Try and you will laugh out loud!!
Have a great weekend!!

So I Married A Deaf Man: Double Take

We all try to teach our kids that it isn't polite to stare at people. I learned it when I was a kid. I hope that I have taught it to my children. We went in yesterday to get Camden's cast off and there was a baby with a club foot. I had to remind myself and my children that it isn't polite to stare.

I think that it is interesting that the urge to stare never leaves us. We may try to look in an inconspicuous manner, but the urge to do it is there. I can promise, you are not the only one who wants to stare at something new or different. I can promise you this because I can't tell you how many times we have been on the receiving end of the stare.

Because my husband is deaf, we are used to the staring. (He is also really cute, but I am pretty sure it is the signing that they are staring at.) If we are going into public, you can guarantee that we are going to be looked at. (more reason to look nice when I go out with Hubs.) We go to the store and kids will look at us until we are out of  sight. We go to the park, children will stare while backing up to their mothers. We are kind of scary, you know. We are either fascinating or we are terrifying.

We understand they are children and they don't know any better.

Then there are the teenagers who do know better but don't have the brain capacity to refrain from not only staring, but poking fun. I remember one time when we were just married, a car of teenagers pulled up next to us as Hubs and I are having a conversation. They all start waving their hands and making silly faces. I wanted to used a universal sign to those idiots, but I DO have the brain capacity to refrain from impulse reactions.

Shockingly, though, I am most surprised at the amount of adults we get who stare and talk about us when we are out in public. Oh, they try to be discrete about it, but there is a whole lot of staring going on. I get the double take. No biggie...but to keep coming back. Really?

Here we are, Hubs and I, on our  yearly date, sitting at our table waiting to be served. We start to have a private conversation when we notice that the couple at the table next to us is staring at us. Not just looking, noticing and carrying on. We are talking full on staring. And not only that, they are talking about us. Granted, we know they probably don't understand a word that we are saying, and they didn't know that I could hear them but you try having a normal conversation when 2 people keep staring at you. It is annoying at best.

I would like to say that I stood up, walked over to them and said, "You know. I can hear you talking about us, but even if I couldn't we can SEE you staring at us. My husband is DEAF not blind. Didn't your mom's teach you it wasn't polite to stare?" But I didn't.

We usually just stare back and that makes them uncomfortable enough to stop staring. "Oh, no. We have been caught. Look away. Look away!" I have also thought about doing the universal military sign of "I'm watching you" with my 2 fingers.

I know I sound bothered. I am, but not really. It is just something that we have gotten used to it. Hubs has dealt with it his whole life. Who am I to complain about 11 years of it. We have had to explain to our children that people are going to stare, kids are going to point and some children may even cry.

"It's because you are different. Special different. People think that sign language is really cool and so to see little kids signing to an adult, they are totally impressed. Just ignore the idiots who poke fun and smile back at the ones who keep watching. They think you are special."

We are an amazing group and so why should I care if people stare? Probably because I have been taught it was rude to stare at people. And probably because I have tried to teach that to my children.

Look once and you are human. Look twice and you are a slow human. Keep on looking and you better watch out. Not all Deaf people are as nice as we are.

They may getcha!


(Also posted Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop)

Where'd it go?

Gum: a child's anytime treat.

My kids love gum. It doesn't matter what flavor: "Hot blue" Winter Fresh, "Spicy" red cinnamon, or "Green kind". Pink is the favorite by far. But if you can chew it, they want it. And believe me, they can find it too. They can smell it a mile away, whether it is in my mouth or hidden in the depths of my bag. If there is gum, they will find it. Oh, yes, they will.


I don't get why they love it so much. For some reason, until they learn to blow a bubble, the gum doesn't stay in their mouth longer than 5 minutes. That isn't even long enough for the gum to take form. It still has it's flavor, people!

Then there is the issue of disposing of said gum. I prefer the garbage myself. But my children have tried a variety of ways to discard. Leaving it on their dinner plate, their food trash, the bottom of their own shoe, their back pocket.  I would be interested to know how much gum goes through my four year old's digestive system every week.... actually,no, I wouldn't.

So, today I took my two oldest sons grocery shopping with me. On our way to the store, my 5 year old asked for a piece of gum (because he could smell it clear in the back seat...rats!)  So I gave him one and on we went.

We had a great time at the store. You know, the usual: taking as many of the produce bags as you can get and making balloons out of them. Then hitting your older brother with it...and a full on UFC fight breaks out.  It is always fun to bring my boys shopping.

About 40 minutes later, we left the store with me kicking and screaming. We are heading home when my 5 year old Brody asks, "Mom, can I have a piece of gum?"

"What did you do with your other piece? Did you swallow it?" I asked.

"Ummm...no. I didn't swallow it." he replied.

"Well, did you put it on the ground? In a trash can?" I asked hopefully.

"Nope. I didn't. I promise, I didn't."

Exasperated I asked him, "Well, where did you put it?"

"Uhhh...I put it in my pocket. Then I did a somersault and then a cartwheel and it fell out."

(Laughing to myself and a little out loud) "You did a somersault and a cartwheel in the store? I missed that" I think I would have remembered that.

"Yup. I did. And that is when my gum fell out of my pocket."

Gum: It simply brings out the best in us.

For my son, it brings out the acrobat.

Roll Film!

Today is free movie day! What is this, you ask? Well, let me explain. It is a program that the local theatre does. They take movies that you already own on DVD and have watched at least 100 times, and play them in the theatre for free.

Our job is to get all the kids ready, loaded, transported and in line about an hour before the movie starts to be sure to get a ticket (for the movie you already own). Then we have to figure out what to do with my already wired kids while we stand in line. Once we have the tickets we now have 30 minutes to kill while we wait in line to get a seat (to watch the movie that you have at home).

We then feel obligated to buy something from the candy counter because the movie is free. (Wait.. guilt not necesary...I OWN the movie.) Still, someone has to push the play button, clean the bathrooms and take the tickets. And so I load my kids up with popcorn that will give them gas and soda that make those bubbles bigger. This way we can enjoy the experience all day and into the night. (You know I have boys, right? They enjoy it WAY into the night...as long as they can. Sheesh!)

Finally, we are in the theatre, seated, with kids eating their popcorn, then spilling their popcorn, then crying about spilling their popcorn and we haven't even made it through the previews. Once the movie does start, we recite every line with the characters (because we own the movie) and have a grand old time!

Why? Why do we do this? Because, like I said in a previous post, there is NOTHING like watching a movie in the theatre. It doesn't matter what the movie is, it is always funner to watch it in a theatre. PLUS we are all going crazy sitting in the house. It is somewhere to go, it is relatively cheap, and my kids will think I am super cool mom!

And who doesn't want to be supercool?

Ice Age, here we come!!!

What does this do...

I should have a warning sign posted on my door that says, "We are not responsible for personal items lost.You may or may not get them back. Consider yourselves warned."

As sad as it is, if you leave something and I am not the one who finds it, chances are, it will not be found. I do have a lost and found because we tend to get lots of visitors, especially lately with graduation, wedding, summertime, temple, etc.  However, it would more appropriately be named : Lost and Found and Then Refound.

The more I clean, the more I find...so I have just decided to stop cleaning. (I wish)

Well, while visiting last month, my dad apparently left his electric razor. I found it about 2 weeks after they left and was wondering whose it was because no-one had called about it. I asked my mom and she assured me it was my dad's.

So, I, not thinking, stuck it in the Lost and Found and Refound box. This was a bad idea because the box is at the same level as my little kids eyes...hence the name Refound. This seems to be the place they come when they are bored and want something new to play with. It usually just has clothes, socks, undies, toothbrushes, etc. Nothing fun, nothing worthy of their attention.

Except this week...

I was sitting by my 10 year old son and I was looking at his arm (for some weird reason) and noticed that there was no hair on his arm.

"What happened to your arm? It looks bald!" I asked.

Kobe: "Oh, I used that electric razor on it. Isn't it cool."

"Are you serious?" I replied.

Brody (5 yr old): "Mine too. Look. And I did my leg. I even tried it on my hair."

Oh isn't that lovely. The funny thing is that they only did it on one side. So half their body looks smooth and slick. The other half is their normal hairy selves.

And so I say this: "We are not responsible for personal items lost or left behind."

Especially electric razors.

Sorry, Dad.

Robbing the Cradle

Our children age us. Not because of how many we have or how old they are...though I am sure these things have brought a few gray hairs to my head. It is because their concept of numbers and age is all scewed.

Let me give you an example.

The other day I bought a slip and slide for my kids. They were busting at the seams with excitement. I told them they had to wait until they had eaten lunch and then we would get it all set up.

Brody, my 5 year old, says, "We have been waiting a hundred years already!"

Me: "A hundred years? Wow. That is older than I am."

Brody: "Well, Daddy is older than you and so he knows."

Me: "How old do you think I am?"

Brody: "40." (Hey now, son, I am only 36.)

Me: "How old is Daddy?"

Brody: "11." (Why couldn't he have said 11 to me? Sigh)

Me: "11? That is younger than 40. You think Daddy is younger than me?"

Brody: (thinking) "Ummm...no. I know how old he is."

Me: "How old?"

Brody: "Forty eleven."

See what I mean. According to my son, I married someone who was 3,971 years older than me. I wasn't even a speck on a clover when he was born.  Talk about robbbing the cradle.

Funny thing is, he doesn't look a day over 39.

Non-moms: Pay attention!

The things we sacrifice to be a mother.

Before I was a mom...

...I woke up early because I wanted to. Now I wake up before the break of dawn to cuddling, giggling kids.

...there were days when I didn't have any laundry...Now I can see how much fun my children had by the amount of MESS they have on their clothes. They are having fun...loads and loads of it. (I couldn't resist.)

...when I was late, I could simply sneak in the back without being noticed. Now, we can't sneak into anything.

...I wore a size 5. Now I have 5 kids and the body to prove it.

...I could park in the compact spots. Now there is nothing compact about us.

...I made could shower everyday.. Now I am lucky if I get a shower every other day.

...I could take as long as I wanted in the shower. Now I can shower in 5 minutes without too much problem.

....I appreciated art. Now there is no piece of art that could replace the pictures of me with arms coming out my ears and legs out my chin standing next to Hubs and children with the caption: i luv mi famlee.

...I could go shopping with just Hubs and have some change left over. Now, I am happy when I only have to take 3 kids with me and I have arranged to have my paychecks directly deposited to Smiths grocery store.

....I thought I knew what love was. Now I know!

Mothers sacrifice a lot to have children.

I grew up hearing that the definition of sacrifice is giving up something good for something better.

There is nothing better than being a mom! Nothing! I would give up the non-mom life in a heartbeat again if I had the choice. It is the hardest and yet most rewarding job, responsibility, joy I have ever had.

SO to all you non-moms out there...try it. You will love it!!!

(Thanks again Mama Kat! You are awesome!)

An apple a day...

Did you all know that the new iPhone is coming out on June 24th? And did you watch the LIVE coverage showing the new changes three days ago? I didn't either. But when I came home and saw that something had happened to my husband, I got a little suspiscious.

He had partaken of the apple...the forbidden fruit. Okay, so it is not so forbidden in our house, considering we both have iPhones. But when I got home from work I found my husband's face glued to the computer screen, jaw on the floor with a puddle of drool next to it. And that is pretty much where he has stayed for the past three days.

Oh, there was the brief interruption when he had to check my phone to see if I qualified for the free upgrade. I did. He didn't. At this point I was ready to take cover, positive he was going to explode right then and there. But he got right on the phone and spoke to the manager's manager's manager. He got approval for the upgrade. We are now on speaking terms again.

I try to have a normal conversation with him (as opposed to the abnormal ones). I try talking about the kids, movies, sports, etc. with him. But I can tell that he isn't really listening. Perhaps it is the blank stare that he gives me... OR maybe it is the random nodding in inappropriate times...OR Maybe it is the apples in his eyes that gives his inattention away. Mostly I can tell he isn't listening because the minute I stop talking (that does happen from time to time) he is right back explaining all the cool things that it can do.

So, am I looking forward to June 24, you may ask? Yes. Yes I am.  Not so much for the upgraded iPhone that I will be getting, though I will admit it is pretty nice. But mostly because I will be getting my husband back.

Who am I kidding? It will be another month before he tires of his new love affair, said iPhone, and remembers that he has a wife and 5 children running around the house.

An apple a day takes my husband away...sniffles. I just want my husband back.

Maybe there's an app for that?

TMI

I have a child who loves to talk. He is 4 years old. He loves to talk. He can talk and talk and talk ....you get the idea. He will talk about the sky. He will talk about bugs. He will talk about the dust on his dresser. This kid can really fill dead air like no other. He has the gift of gab...as my grandma calls it.

He talks so much that no-one wants to share a room with him because the talking comes out more at night. It is then that the questions come out.

"Mom, why do we have a chin?"
"Why do we need socks?"
"Why do we wear underwear?"
"Why do we need the sun?"

Not necesarily hard questions to answer, but it is bedtime and if it isn't me he is asking, it is his tired older brother. It is actually quite endearing.

He also will tell you a lot more than you need to know, than you want to know.  TMI is his middle name. I think that the filter in his brain is not yet fully developed....you know, the one that reminds you what is appropriate and what is inappropriate to say out loud.

With that introduction, let me tell you about a little conversation that took place this weekend with Camden (talking son) and my brother-in-law (we will call him Bob...because that is his reall name.)

Camden enters the room where Bob and other cousins are playing.

Bob: "Hey Camden! What are you doing?"

Camden: "I just went pee." Slight pause."And poop." Long pause. "I went pee and poop."

Bob: (laughing) "Thanks for sharing."

Camden: After thinking for a few second, (a little disgusted) "I didn't share it with anyone."

That's my boy!

Wondering...

I was wondering...
 
Have you ever NOT exercised for like 4 months and then all of a sudden decide to do it one day and then you wake up the next day unable to walk up and down the stairs, much less roll out of bed?

Have you ever dreamed that you were Brad Pitt and you were making out with a girl...only to take a closer look and see that it is you that you (as Brad Pitt) are making out with?

Have you ever re-watched some of those films we watched when we were young and thought, "What were my parents thinking to let me watch that when I was a kid?"

Have you ever not realized how bad they were until you showed them to your children? **Gremlins...not a good show**

Have you ever left your 4 week old baby in the car on accident while you and Hubs went into a party and not even notice until someone asks you, "Where is your baby?" (It was only 15 minutes, but still...what were you thinking??)

Have you ever taken 7 kids ranging in age from 1 to 10 years old to watch Shrek Forever After on Memorial Day and when they told you how much it costs bit your tongue because what else are we going to do?

Have you ever fallen asleep telling your children a story that starts out sounding like Rumplestilskin but ended with you talking about paying bills and cooking dinner?

Have you ever just decided that the pillow and sheet that are covered in vomit just aren't worth cleaning up and thrown them away? 

Have you ever secretly wished that we still walked the Earth in leaves because it sure would save us all a whole lot of time on laundry, shopping and dry cleaning?

Have you ever told your children to go get their clothes on because you were going to the store and had them come out with an outfit like this:

(Don't think he wanted his picture taken.)

Have you?

Me either.

I was just wondering...

(Thanks for the prompt, Mama Kat!)

Lessons in Poop

I don't know anyone who likes to be sick. Especially the curl-up-in-a-ball-and-wish-you-were-dead stomach ache sick. I can handle throwing up...I don't love it, but once you throw up, things usually get better. But it is when the sick is in limbo that I have a problem.

Is the sick here to stay for a while? Is it supposed to come out? And if so, which end? I hate that. It is even worse when it is my child because they aren't able to really communicate where the pain is.

One of my children woke up this morning screaming bloody murder. (I would tell you which one but she this child is really private and wouldn't like to be identified.) We are talking shatter-the-window screaming. It was a joy to wake up to...really hope that happens more often.

She This child was obviously in a lot of pain, but at that point there wasn't much that I could do for her them. I tried rubbing her back, but that wasn't helping. I asked if she had considered praying for help. She asked me to say it,(because the screaming still hadn't stopped.) and so I just asked that whatever was that was hurting her, would pass through her quickly.

The next thing I know, I hear, "Please let it be poop. Please let it be poop. I want it to be poop!!" recited and repeated over and over again.

It is not often that you hear this kind of plea coming from ANYONE. I was tempted to show her the gagging trick just to speed along the process. But that little trick could come back and haunt us both later, so I held my tongue.

After forever passed (it was actually a few minutes but high pitch screaming tends to make things seem longer than they actually are) I hear this:

"Please, Heavenly Father. I beg of you! Why don't you ever answer me? Please, let it come out. Why are you making me hurt like this. Please...PLEASE!"

At this point I sat down by her and explained that He was indeed listening to her. "He made our bodies, which are pretty amazing things. When there is something is in our body that will make it sick, our bodies work really hardtot get it out. So even though it hurts, He is answering your prayers."

I thought that her last prayer was an interesting one. How often, do we, as His children, beg Him to remove our pain because it hurts too much. We are so focused on the present hurting that we can't see the amazing process that is happening in our lives. We can't see His hand in our suffering.

He is there and knows what is best. We may pray "Let it be poop," which may translate into something like, "Let me find a job." or "Tell me what to do with this kid." I know I sometimes tell the Lord what to do to make my life better. But He may see that throwing up is better, or that a little bit of cramping will bless me later on with empathy. Whatever the case may be, He will help us out.

So this morning, I thank my daughter child for teaching me a lesson about suffering and prayer.