My LaughterThoughts...

Cape, please.

2011-12-21T10:20:00.000-08:00

There's always an upside and a downside to a compliment.

The upside: Oh, be still, my beating heart! What sweet words my children have uttered!

The downside: With great power comes great responsibility. And more work.

Yesterday I overheard a popcorn conversation the kids were having as I headed up the stairs to put away laundry:

Wow! Did Mom already fold all those jeans? How did she do that so fast? She must have super powers! Cool! Did she really just fold all of those? Where did they go? She had them! They were folded. and she took them! Mom must be like a super hero or something! You know what I think?- she just touches the pants and *poof!* they're folded! Like magic! Wow...

And then it was over as quickly as it started. They watched their video and didn't utter another word of awe over my amazing jeans-folding ability. And I will note that, this morning, there is a bit of resistance by a certain Blessing to fold his jeans. It's just not fair that he should have that job; he doesn't have the magic touch.

Different strokes for different folks

2011-08-04T15:35:00.000-07:00

Perhaps it was in poor taste to laugh, but what can I say? It was funny. Granted, we kept our hysterical giggles a secret… or at least we kept the reason a secret.

Sitting at the dinner table last night, we were asking the kids about their swimming lessons, and each one was describing the activities of the different levels.

How many yards.

How many lengths of the pool.

How many bobs.

The different kicks.

The different strokes. (Hey, whatcha talkin bout, Willis?! *snicker,snicker*)

Then came the discussion whether freestyle is truly freestyle or if it’s only front crawl.

Blessing #1 says, “If it’s time for freestyle in my class, I always choose breaststroke because that’s my best one.”

To which my eight-year-old son asks, “What is breaststroking?”

B#1, moving her arms in little circles: “You know, it’s the one where you go like this with your hands.”

B#3 shakes his head and says, “Oh… well we don’t breaststroke in my level. Yeah, I am way too young to breaststroke.”

Urban Chicken Farmer

2011-06-30T10:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, maybe *farmer* isn't truly accurate. But we are enjoying our backyard chickens. Henrietta and Penelope- a.k.a. Henny and Penny (quite clever in our chicken naming, eh?)- joined our family over Memorial Day. They've been contentedly living in their temporary chicken run, while eagerly watching as their new high-rise apartment was being built. Move-in day has come and gone, and these are two happy ladies!

Building the coop, we decided to make it somewhat portable... after adding handles and wheels, we've now got a chicken tractor. I'd take credit for that catchy name, but that's actually the official name of a portable coop. Since ours looks like a big boat, we call it a chicken ark. I'd take credit for that catchy name, as well, but that's actually the official name of a portable coop in the U.K.;-)

While my Beloved built the boat, I painted the signs... because even a chicken house needs some welcoming decorations. They'll soon be hanging, but they need a good coat of polyurethane first.

They should be laying eggs in August- exciting stuff! But we realize that if we want enough eggs to cover what this big family consumes we'll have to get like a dozen more chickens. Since that's not exactly *legal* in the city, we might have to move to a farm. Or just continue buying the 5-dozen pack each week.:)

twinkle toes

2011-05-11T12:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you are headed into the store when you look at your baby's feet and realize you must find some socks
to cover her oh-so-dirty toes.

And then sometimes you realize that your toddler has gotten into the stash of nail polish and later find her on the couch with a blanket

covering her oh-so-sparkly toes.

teacher appreciation week

2011-05-04T17:07:00.000-07:00

It's teacher appreciation week again. Funny how that comes every year.:)

This year *we* made snack packs for all the teachers... and then I figured, why stop there? I should let the secretaries and counselor and principal know that they're appreciated, too.:)

Designed, cut, folded, glued-- and had a door hanger... converted to a water bottle hanger with a snack pocket. Dropped in a 20-oz water bottle-sized Crystal Light packet, a pack of chewing gum, and a granola bar, and we were ready to appreciate some hard workers at the school.

Of course, I had them in a box at the front door ready for delivery Monday morning when Blessing #3 decided to get into a wrestling match and fell on top of them. He managed to severely mangle one... but fortunately- and miraculously!- it was only one. I had a spare, so I was able to swap around names. Hopefully Mrs. Schuster doesn't realize that she got the *boy* design instead of the flowery *girl* design. And hopefully she doesn't think I did that because she's a PE teacher.;-)

Growth Spurt

2011-04-21T19:44:00.000-07:00

Blessing #3:

Mom, my fingers are getting too big for my skin.

My skin is just feeling really tight tonight.

Mom:

*snicker, snicker*

Go put on some lotion- I think that should help.

:-)

Blessing #7... 15 months

2011-04-15T12:57:00.000-07:00

Walking, talking to a ball, playing with the tools, and spotting Daddy outside the door... :)

Spelling Lesson

2011-04-15T10:09:00.000-07:00

Lots of drawing, writing, coloring, and taping were happening at the kitchen counter.
Overheard as Blessings #4&5 worked to create their own dinner menus:

B#5: Hmmmm, how do you spell "water?"

B#4: Big H. Little 2. Big O.

A budding chemist perhaps?

Smash & Grab Grab & Stash

2011-02-07T16:43:00.000-08:00

The child is a hoarder. To the extreme. This hold-on-tight tendency was probably inherited from her mother, but the trait mutated into something dominant, excessive, obsessive, and compulsive.

Honestly, the girl keeps reminder notes about picture retake day at school- circa October 2009. Used napkins from birthday parties, empty chapstick tubes, finished juice pouches, the Sunday comics from last year, a math page from kindergarten, the 2006 adorable kittens 12-month calendar, the plastic wrapper from last season’s soccer snacks, a pizza box, two coupons for free ice cream cones from Burger Ranch.

Absolutely nothing is unworthy of going into her treasure chest.

Unfortunately, her treasure chest doubles as her bed.

The hoarding characteristic is shared to varying degrees with an older sister or two. And then there’s a younger sister who has not yet learned the art of collecting, but she has certainly mastered rummaging, scattering, pilfering, and mutilating anything in her reach and everything out of it.

Take all these precious keepsakes. Now add in clothing, bedding, shoes, and hair accessories.

And books, magazines, reading logs, multiplication flash cards, and coloring books.

And toothpaste boxes, dental floss, old toothbrushes, pens, pencils, crayons, tissues, and toilet paper rolls.

Do you get where I’m going with this? Ahem, the entire bedroom is a trove of treasures and caboodle of clutter.

Now comes the painful task of organizing, but hoarders are not trustworthy. Because after a deep cleaning, mom later discovers that the piles have only been creatively shuffled. In the bed, under the bed, under the dresser- all are fair game.

And it turns out, pillows can serve a dual purpose. Not only do they provide comfort while sleeping, but their cases are the perfect catchall for notes, sketches, books, rocks, a change of panties, three socks, half a rubber bouncy ball, a plastic dinosaur, and one broken clip-on earring. (Seemingly negating the provision of a comfortable headrest.)

Thus, covert transfer to the trashcan begins. My while-they’re-at-school-and-don’t-know-any-better task of bedroom gutting is underway. I’ve only just begun, but already I’ve got several loads of laundry, a large tote stuffed with trash, and enough books for a mobile children’s library.

Rather than worry that this is a testament of my mothering abilities, I am instead resting in the belief that it is only a natural byproduct of four girls sharing one crowded room.

A sign of the time

2011-02-03T08:23:00.000-08:00

Venting her frustration- through the form of signage- was like hitting the reset button on her mood.

And it ended up resetting mine, too.

Blessing #2 can, at times, be a stubborn one.
And often she’s pretty funny.
But I can, at times, be pretty stubborn myself.
And often I can’t let her know that she’s being funny.

If I’m frustrated and she’s in trouble, then there’s an unwritten rule:
No laughing.
Unless it’s my idea.;)

She was inside the bedroom, refocusing some defiant energy into a more positive direction, and I happened to be walking past.

I was able to not only smile, but I also got to snap a couple pictures.
And she is none the wiser.:)

Rules:

1. Parents are ALWAYS wrong.

2. If a parent is right, look at Rule #1.

3. This sign is always right.

my happy clapper

2011-01-14T12:59:00.000-08:00

Enjoying her sister's orchestra concert.

Or, rather, enjoying the end of each song!

dream on, kid;-)

2010-12-17T16:50:00.000-08:00

Talking of Blessing #5:

You need to be nicer to your brother. He is like a *dream* child. You should see him while you guys are at school- he is always the sweetest little guy.

B#4:
Noooo! I *daydream* ALL.THE.TIME.

Okie dokie. Glad we have an understanding now.

Havin' it his way

2010-12-11T13:42:00.000-08:00

After we left the practice at church for tomorrow night’s Christmas program, the kids began singing Joy to the World in a spontaneous round. The sweet little voices filled the van.

With great gusto, Blessing #5 harmonized during the chorus:

“And heav-en, and hea-av-en, and Bur-ger King!”

Undercover Udder

2010-11-20T22:04:00.000-08:00

We were watching the stampede of mustangs in Flicka
when the movie zoomed in on a pinto.

Blessing #3 looks over at me and says
in his very serious and matter-of-fact way,

"Oh, look, mom. That horse is disguised as a cow."

Oh, I needed a good laugh...
he just didn't understand what was so funny.;)

kid-isms

2010-10-21T12:30:00.000-07:00

I spent the last day jotting down some of the things that pop out of Blessing #5’s mouth, as the little guy is pretty entertaining. Putting his words down in writing does not nearly capture these moments, but it’s all I can do right now; I haven’t figured out how to copy my brain videos to my laptop.;)

So here is the b&w version of my technicolor laughterthoughts:

FROM THE MOUTH OF MY FOUR-YEAR OLD:

As he rode in the shopping cart over the bumpy asphalt parking lot:

Mom, my bones are dancin’!

As he pointed his finger gun at me:

Stick ‘em up before I shoot!

You better get your hands up 'cause you’re an alien!

(an alien = under arrest)

As we watched the intro to the 60’s cartoon:

Spider-man is *not* a radio actor-bot.

*grunt*

He is *just* Spider-man.

(is a radio actor-bot = has radioactive blood)

As he drank some milk after lunch:

Mom, I’ve seen a real live bat before. In your tummy. Before I was born. When I was still in your tummy there was a bat in there with me. And sometimes it would fly around. When I was born and came out of your tummy, the bat came out, too. But then it was invisible, so you didn’t see it. Did ya know, Moma?

(which now fully explains those fluttery feelings during pregnancy)

As we sat at soccer practice:

Mom, you should get the DVD of the ballerations.

You know… the one.

The one with the white dogs with the dots.

The black ones.

(ballerations = 101 Dalmatians)

As we drove home:

Mom, all the cars in this world are shiny.

Except for the dusty ones. And the broken ones.

….And Satan’s ones.

Enjoying the moment

2010-10-13T16:49:00.000-07:00

Blessing #6 entertains B#7...

while the dog and violin practice serenade.

C.O.D.

2010-09-21T21:11:00.001-07:00

The down side:
Some little girl was using my return-address stamp.

The up side:
If someone finds her, he can just drop her in the mailbox.

Betcha can't!

2010-09-20T13:53:00.000-07:00

I have found a simple way to amuse myself:
I tell the kids that I bet they can't lick their armpits.

And, then, they prove me wrong!

Watching those wagging tongues makes me laugh everytime. :)

I *must* figure out a sneaky way to photograph this...

First Day 8-31-10

2010-08-31T09:52:00.000-07:00

Well, school has begun, and I have a mild case of the first-day jitters… probably because I’m hyped up on celebratory Starbucks and Spudnuts.:) The four Biggies have been dropped off for the day, and the Littles are playing Trios. I have grand plans for uninterrupted cleaning and other captivating things- like sitting on the couch and relishing in the fact that I'm off the hook until 3:15.

And, with that thought, the baby has begun to fuss.

Overheard

2010-07-15T13:11:00.000-07:00

What he said:

"Just squirtin' it in my pie hole, Mom,
just squirtin' it in my pie hole."

What I saw:

Blessing #3 with the bottle of salad spritzer,
spraying the dressing into his mouth.

Make-up Marvels

2010-07-08T19:18:00.000-07:00

Earlier I looked over the laptop and saw Blessing #2 sitting on the ottoman in quiet thought.

And I thought, What has my child put on her face?!

"Come here please."

And closer she came.
And closer.

I am witness to the future of make-up.
A new line of products.
An innovation.

It is easily applied, yet it's semi-permanent.
It is semi-permanent, yet it's easily removed.

It is for eyes.
It is for lips.

It is simply crafted from two readily available home-office products,
yet it's a most astounding use for masking tape and glittery gel pens.:)

grandmas

2010-07-05T11:43:00.001-07:00

I had to laugh... after she walked out of the room.

Blessing #2 walks over to me and says, "Mom... would your grandma my great-grandma?"

I tell her yes, and she says, "Well, why do that do that? Because my grandma is great. She should be my greatma."

"Oh, yes!" I say, "but she's also grand!"

"Hmmm... yeah..." And then quite matter-of-factly, "But, no, instead of calling them great-grandmas, they should just be big and old- big and old greatmas."

I would tell her that great-grandmas might not be particularly pleased with her endearing salutation, but she has already moved on to something else.

terra-cotta critters

2010-05-25T14:57:00.000-07:00

School is almost out! Well, in about two and a half weeks.:)

I finished up the end-of-the-year gifts for the teachers... and, of course, went with my good ol' standby of terra cotta pots.:)

I decorated as requested by each kid and ended up with a pretty cute collection of pots!

--A decoupage pencil/supply holder for the music/choir/orchestra teacher, an apple supply holder for the kindergarten teacher, a frog for the 1st grade teacher, a turtle for the 3rd grade teacher, and a giraffe pencil/supply holder for the 4th grade teacher--

lullabye

2010-05-23T08:05:00.000-07:00

We were parked at the school, waiting for the kids to get out, when Blessing #5 asked me to put in a CD.

Mom, will you play that "got-a-couple-dents-in-my-fender-got-a-couple-rips-in-my-jeans-perfection-is-my-enemy" song?

I popped Francesca Battistelli into the player and listened as my four-year-old sang to his baby sister.

I also noted his attempt to release her grip from the red blanket that was covering her.;)

And that he didn't so much put the baby to sleep as he did himself. As the song ended, he closed it out with a big yawn.

Swinging sensation!;)

2010-05-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening I looked outside to watch the kids playing in the backyard. I was pleasantly shocked to see that Blessing #6 was sitting on the big-kid swing... and instinctively pumping her legs!

Goodness, the little thing isn't even two!

Shevanigans

2010-04-07T12:38:00.000-07:00

“Wow. That’s a really big van you’re driving.”
“Yep, it sure is.”
“How big is it?”
“Holds 15 when the back seat is in. Right now, 11.”
“Where are you headed in that? To work?”
“Home. Or maybe the library. Or maybe both.”

Leaving the drive-thru, my brain slowly awakening as I sipped my drink, I realized that I had answered his question but not really answered his question. Yeah, he asked me where I was going, but beneath that question was the bigger one. In that. He was really curious about the big van. And what I was doing in it.

I guess super-stretch vans carrying super-size families don’t often come by his window.

This was not McDonald’s but Starbucks.

*ahem* If you know what I'm sayin'.

Blissfully imbibing my double shot on ice, I was feeling quite energized, though I can’t be sure whether it was the instant surge of caffeine into my bloodstream or just a psychological reaction to the thrill of indulgence. Buying coffee is exciting, especially when I know that my morning splurge was purchased with a gift card.

Pardon me while I digress.

But, dude. Mmmmm…

Starbucks’ plastic bucks rock.

Leaving the drive-thru, my left blinker suddenly began to operate at turbo speed. This may or may not have been the effect of a caffeine-induced adrenaline rush to a motorized vehicle. Unbeknownst to me, my drink might have splashed out of the lidded cup and onto the van floor. But I suppose it's equally plausible a weak light bulb or loose wire is to blame.

Whatever the case, oddly enough, I found it quite embarrassing and somehow managed to make it to the library in record time, while deliberately taking only right turns.

The perfect parking spot was awaiting us, and I skillfully maneuvered the van into it, just barely bumping the front curb with my tires. The lady next to me looked annoyed. I’m not sure whether it was because I overslept and didn’t get a shower or if it was because I parked my silver ~~beast~~ bus next to her Yugo.

Sure, it said COMPACT CAR on the space, but, really, isn't that merely a suggestion? It’s certainly not a law. Library fines are for overdue books, not for parking lot violations. Am I right? Right.

Besides, I call the van a car all the time. And, technically, we can compact a lot of people into it. Fifteen, legally. Even more if seatbelts and actually sitting are optional.

Inside the library, Blessing #7 peacefully slept.

B#6 stretched her arms out from the front seat of the stroller in an attempt- and with occasional success- to pull random books off the shelves.

B#5 chose several tomes for himself, including one on Linear Algebra. And he’s only four. Wow, huh?

Obviously, my kids are super-accelerated.;)

Hairdo Hair-Eww!

2010-04-04T20:27:00.000-07:00

Just one more reason not to stand behind me...

when I've got a baby over my shoulder.

Dinner dialogue

2010-03-16T20:34:00.000-07:00

The Hunky Monkey and I got a good laugh at dinner tonight.

Blessing #3 was trying to ask for some sauerkraut on his hot dog.
Except he innocently asked for "some of that sour crap."

Oh, was it funny!

Quoting Cleo

2010-03-13T18:48:00.000-08:00

The kids have been watching a Clifford the Big Red Dog video we borrowed from the library. Obviously having the DVD has meant a more concentrated exposure to the adventures of those Birdwell Island dogs.

And all the things they say.

Blessing #4 was practicing her AWANA verse the other day. I think it was Joshua 1:9 where it says: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous, for the LORD your God is with you.”

I asked her to recite it for me. And she starts, “Have I ever steered you wrong? Be strong and courageous…”

Too much Cleo, I guess. :)

Pinnocchio has sticky pockets

2010-03-01T09:22:00.000-08:00

I overhear Blessing #6 crying while playing with B#5:

Hey, what's going on?

B#5:

*crosses arms*

I don't know.
She just keeps getting hurt.

*scrunches face and shrugs shoulders*

I just close my eyes,
and I don't touch her.

*shakes head*

Or anything.

*pauses*

And don't look in my pocket, Mom.
There's nothing in there.
I don't have any candy in my pocket,
so you don't need to look in it.

Toad-ally makes sense...

2010-02-25T13:07:00.000-08:00

From the mouth of a 4-year old:

God made everything is this world. Yup.
And I know how God turned the rocks into sand. Yeah-huh.
(whispering) He had a very. big. knife.
(wide-eyed) And it was shaaarp.

From the mouth of his 5-year-old sister:

Oh no... God didn't use a knife.
God made the rocks, and the sand came out of my froggy.

Thug Mug Shot

2010-02-22T12:07:00.000-08:00

Some people don’t understand the workings of a four-year-old’s mind. “Doing the opposite” is an instinctual reaction, and though often done innocently enough, it surely stems from an innate sin nature.

Just this morning, Blessing #5 completed an application for a library card. He was directed around the desk and told to stand behind the line. He hopped into position with a “Yippee! Yippee! Yippee!”

Meanwhile, another librarian, a much more *ahem* mature librarian, walked past.

B#5 has on his baseball cap, turned backwards. Not a big deal, right? Not for some of us. But for others, well, it would seem so.

“Aren’t you going to take that off your head for your picture?” Ms. Maturity asks him, as she seats herself at the desk.

He gave her the look. You know the one: the What-You-Talkin’-‘Bout-Willis look. He stands tall, lifts his head up, pushes his shoulders down, and then proudly proceeds to pull the hat low over his eyebrows.

Humphff. So there. He ~~smirks~~ smiles in that sweet way only a four-year-old boy can.

His very first ever library card has his very first ever mug shot.

But even disparaging wardrobe comments cannot put a damper on his excitement. His card may bear a mug shot, but he cannot hide his joy. The smile stretches to his ears.:)

Ah-ha! moments

2010-02-05T12:20:00.000-08:00

Just two weeks into being a 4-year-old, Blessing #5 is learning lots of new things. Running into the kitchen, wearing a huge smile, he very enthusiastically informed me of one such exciting, new discovery:

Mooommm!!! This hairbrush works really great for cats!!!

Unfortunately he really was holding a brush and was standing next to a furry Persian with a brand-new fluffy 'do.:(

Fortunately it was not my brush but B#2's.:)

1 month

2010-01-28T21:43:00.000-08:00

Isn't she a sweetie?:)

It's hard to believe Blessing #7 is already one month old!

The weeks are flying by-
with each baby, time moves faster and faster.:'(

Birthday Boy

2010-01-22T16:10:00.000-08:00

Blessing #5 is four!

And we celebrated with Nemo. :)

Blessing #7

2010-01-14T23:07:00.000-08:00

We've welcomed another girl!

No Snow Gifts

2009-12-16T12:38:00.000-08:00

It's been a month since I've posted, so I figure I'd better get something new up before the baby makes its appearance and things get really busy. :)

The kids are all home today since the district had to cancel school for the icy mess out there. Too bad it wasn't a foot of snow because that would be a lot better for sending them outside to play. That said, they are busy staying inside cleaning today. I told the girls that their room had better be picked up before they can do anything else. I refuse to do their laundry until they've got their mess organized. We'll see what it looks like when I get up there.

Realizing yesterday morning that this week is the last few days of school before Christmas break, I decided I'd better get my buns in gear if I was going to get any little teacher gifts ready before we go into two weeks of hibernation. Since classes were on delay yesterday, Blessing #4 didn't have morning kindergarten. After dropping the biggies off, we headed to JoAnn's and picked up a few supplies, and I spent the afternoon making the gifts. They turned out really cute. I even managed to make an extra for myself.:)

So I've gotten presents done for the schoolies' teachers, but I have done absolutely nothing for my own family!

Other than incubate this baby.

I think that bringing another blessing into the home is, by far, one of the most wonderful gifts we could have! Though I'm still trying to convince the kids that it's okay to have a tree without presents under it!

B#3 turns 7

2009-11-13T22:15:00.000-08:00

Blessing #3's birthday is tomorrow, so today was bake-the-cake day. I worked on it throughout the day between trips to school and such. Unfortunately because of that, I unknowingly wore frosting on my face to my OB ultrasound and doctor's appointments. Also unfortunate is that I did not realize this until after the fact when I happened upon a mirror. Oh well, guess I gave everyone something to whisper about. :)

Despite the icing makeup, I think the LEGO cake turned out well. The birthday boy hasn't seen it yet, but it'll waiting for him when he comes down in the morning. Seven years old already!

I'd blame the pink block on the light from the flash, but I was just being stingy with the red food dye. The blue and yellow ones sure are bright and pretty, though.:)

Little stinker artist

2009-10-06T09:45:00.001-07:00

First I found this:

And then I found this:

First Words

2009-09-21T12:40:00.000-07:00

Other than her standard mama and dada and heehaw- which translates as "thank you"- Blessing #6 is a lot of babble without a lot of actual words.

Until she let out a squeal for a drink. B#1 leans over to her and puts her finger over her lips.

B#6 looks back at her, grins, leans in towards her, and says, "Sshhussshhhh."

bag lady

2009-09-02T22:20:00.000-07:00

My therapy session is over... I finished the Awana bags. I guess I will have to find something else to be working on!

Blessing #5's Cubbies bag:

Blessing #4's Sparkies bag:

Blessing #2's Truth & Training bag:

These next two bags are ones that I did last year- I didn't have to make new ones since they aren't moving up in groups.

Blessing #1's T&T bag:

Blessing #3's Sparkies bag:

gender lunches

2009-09-01T12:32:00.000-07:00

I asked a little while ago: Who wants grilled cheese for lunch?!

Blessing #6 responded: Waa! Waa! which roughly translates into, "Just feed me! I'm hungry!"

B#4 responded: I do! I do!

B#5 responded, while giving me a wary eye: I want BOY cheese!

First Day

2009-09-01T11:32:00.000-07:00

September 1, 2009... The first day of school for a new year! The biggies were all smiles this morning. :)

And this Monkey Moma is all smiles right now. I've got dinner going, housekeeping in progress, ...and over 3 1/2 hours until pick-up time.

...I might even be able to throw in some extrcurricular project time- making some Awana bags for next week.

The Hunky Monkey and I are looking forward to our Wednesday-night date night with only ONE tag-along! At least for the fall semester.;-) Blessing #5 starts Cubbies this year; B#4 moves up to Sparks; and B#2 moves to T&T... that means three bags in need of decorating. But that is a therapeutic activity for me, so I am eager to get started. :)

funky monkeys

2009-08-22T14:45:00.000-07:00

The backyard is so bright and colorful today...

...my weekend project is hanging on the clothesline to dry.

introducing...

2009-08-21T15:24:00.000-07:00

...the newest blessing- due to arrive at the very end of this year or the very beginning of next.

A due date is still being determined, pending another ultrasound scheduled in a month.

Dimples

2009-08-08T20:35:00.000-07:00

“What are dimples, Mom?” the kids asked me the other day.

Explaining dimples to a kid is a little hard without a picture or an example. But I tried anyway.

And was incredibly successful, I might add.

“Well, it’s like little holes in your cheeks when you smile. “
“Like this?”
“No, not like that.”
“Like this?”
“Not really.”
“Like this?”
“Nope. None of you has dimples. I’ll have to find a picture to show you.”

Blessing #3 asks if I have dimples. I tell him no. He tells me to smile, walks over to me, leans in really close, and gets very excited.

“Mom! You do! You have lots of dimples! They're all over your cheeks! Come and look, guys! Look at all those holes you have, Moma!”

Um, yeah, thanks. Guess I need some pore-minimizing lotion.

God's Pharmacy

2009-07-24T22:21:00.000-07:00

I took bits and pieces from an email I received. I thought this was really neat.

Definitely a God-stop.:-)

God's Pharmacy...

A sliced carrot looks like the pupil, iris, and radiating lines of the human eye. Science shows carrots greatly enhance the blood flow to and the function of the eyes.

The tomato has four chambers and is red. The heart has four chambers and is red. All of the research shows tomatoes are loaded with lycopine and are indeed food for the heart and blood.

Grapes hang in a cluster that has the shape of the heart. Each grape looks like a blood cell and all of the research today shows grapes are also profound, blood-vitalizing food for the heart.

A walnut looks like a little brain, a left and right hemisphere, upper cerebrums and lower cerebellums. Even the wrinkles or folds on the nut are just like the neo-cortex. Walnuts help develop more than three-dozen neuron-transmitters for brain function.

Kidney Beans actually heal and help maintain kidney function and look like the human kidneys.

Celery, bok choy, rhubarb, and others look like bones. These foods specifically target bone strength. Bones are 23% sodium, and these foods are 23% sodium. If you don't have enough sodium in your diet, the body pulls it from the bones, thus weakening them. These foods replenish the body's skeletal needs.

Avocadoes, eggplant, and pears target the health and function of the womb and cervix of the female - they look just like these organs. Research shows that when a woman eats one avocado a week, it balances hormones, sheds unwanted birth weight, and prevents cervical cancers. It takes exactly nine months to grow an avocado from blossom to ripened fruit. There are over 14,000 photolytic chemical constituents of nutrition in each one of these foods; modern science has only studied and named about 141 of them.

Figs are full of seeds and hang in twos when they grow. Figs increase the mobility of male sperm and increase the numbers of sperm as well to overcome male sterility.

Sweet potatoes look like the pancreas and balance the glycemic index of diabetics.

Olives assist the health and function of the ovaries.

Oranges, grapefruits, and other citrus fruits look like the mammary glands of the female and assist the health of the breasts and the movement of lymph in and out of the breasts.

Onions look like the body's cells. Research shows onions help clear waste materials from all of the body cells. They even produce tears which wash the epithelial layers of the eyes. A working companion, garlic, also helps eliminate waste materials and dangerous free radicals from the body.

Genesis 1

1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.

9 And God said, "Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear." And it was so.

10 God called the dry ground "land," and the gathered waters he called "seas." And God saw that it was good.

11 Then God said, "Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds." And it was so.

12 The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.

27 So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.

Pool time

2009-07-16T12:58:00.000-07:00

This morning I took the kids "swimming" at the local wading pool... We got there early- before all the other kids started arriving- and got in at least an hour of water time. Then it was home for lunch and Barbies and Rescue Heroes.

Beans and pickles

2009-07-13T12:01:00.000-07:00

Blessing #5 has decided to wear big-boy unders. He is potty training himself- pretty much started all this while we were on vacation. 'Bout time.

But then, I guess if I'd been in a big hurry, I'd have been forcing it on him a long time ago.:)

Since he's doing it on his own, he's self-motivated and has a great attitude about it all. In fact, over two long days of driving home, he did not have a single poopy diaper- saved it for the hotel and the rest stops.

I just came downstairs from going up to his room to upright his chest of drawers... which he toppled in the process of digging out a pair of underwear. He just need that one pair with all the tools all over. We are heading to the grocery store in a bit, so, with a little coercion and a little force, I got him to put on some plastic pants over those tool unders.

In fact, he just pulled down his plastic pants and his unders and plopped his little bottom on the potty. As he sat there, he let me know that he went "teeny beany poops" in the potty. "And when I go big poops," he has said before, "it looks like a pickle."

Now we can further classify his pottying- not just from "Did you go wet-wets or poopies?" but instead ask "wet-wets, beany poops, or pickle poops?"

Head stapling... revisited

2009-06-16T17:50:00.000-07:00

Because just once a year isn't enough for head lacerations, I loaded up the troop after lunch and we made the emergency visit to the urgent care clinic...

(Surely less expensive than a trip to the hospital ER, right? Suppose we'll find out exactly how much cheaper when the bill comes...!)

Apparently Blessing #3 and B#4 were struggling over some silly little My Little Pony gate that was part of a Happy Meal toy from way-back-when... B#4 lost the struggle and the gate.

And ended up on the floor under the table with a chair on one side and the stair railing on the other. Which is at fault for the gash on the back of her head, I'm not sure. The real blame probably belongs to B#3's foot, though he strongly denies its involvement.

I think I believe B#4.

We only had to wait about an hour, and the doc got her all stapled up.

She wasn't too thrilled about getting staples- she did all right until "staples" was mentioned and the staple gun came out. And then I had to put away my comforting huggy arms and pull out my pin-her-down octopus arms.

The girl might be a wisp of a thing, but she can kick and squeal and shake everything around with the best of 'em.

One arm to hold her left arm down.

One arm to hold her right arm down.

Two arms to hold her left leg down.

Two arms to hold her right leg down.

Two arms to hold her head steady against my chest.

All it took was an Elastigirl mom to wrap around her and hold everything semi-still for a semi-split second. And a doctor with a quick trigger finger.

Fortunately, her head is back together.:)

Unfortunately, no swimming lessons for a couple days. :(

rockin' and a-rollin'

2009-05-18T09:58:00.000-07:00

Gnomes and frogs and beetles and bugs...
All that great stuff gardens are made of!

After making my personal terracotta gardener to feed the squirrels and birds, I started painting rocks... for the garden, for the garden-themed-Bunco gifts, for teacher-appreciation-week gifts.

The older girls even found a couple big rocks to paint. Pretty cute!

B#1's...

and B#2's

I'm done with rocks for now, so until another burst of inspiration hits, I'll stay busy trying to finish up the kiddos' teachers gifts for the end of the school year.

Blessing #4 had her last day of class for the year this past Friday, so I had to hurrily get her apple painted and ready for her to take to class. While working on hers, I did B#3's. B#s 1&2 want wind chimes for their teacher gifts, so I am in the process of assembling those. I am all about cheap terracotta pots for gifts. Cute, fun, and inexpensive.

Some kind of stomach bug hit the house... or more specifically, hit me, on Friday and Saturday. So now I'm running disaster relief. It's amazing what six kids can do with just a couple days of a couch-ridden moma.

There's that, and there's also the pile of jackets and coats at the front door. Now that it's getting hot, the monkey bus was emptied of all the winter accessories stuffed into every nook and cranny.

The pile is truly overwhelming. I have no idea where I'm going to store all those very essential, very necessary, very used coats and jackets.

Another tote for the garage, I suppose.

3rd grade concert

2009-05-06T13:33:00.000-07:00

Blessing #1 had her third-grade concert last night. For the last couple months, they’ve been learning to play the recorder in music class. She is doing really well with it and is having a lot of fun.

So, of course, this proud moma took the video camera to capture all the excitement. I cut out most of the songs and left you just with a blip of the concert, a fipple-flute rendition of Mary Had a Little Lamb.

If I must say so myself, I captured an absolutely stunning video.

Maybe next year they’ll have the students stand for the concert so their little grade-schooler bodies aren’t hidden behind the stands.

Ay-yi-yi!

2009-04-27T13:14:00.000-07:00

I've got birdseed and peanuts in my sombrero!

Last week I got it in my head to make a bird feeder out of terracotta pots and saucers, so after a trip to WalMart and a couple nights of work, I finished it last night. I've been a little impatient waiting for the glue and polyurethane to dry, but it was worth the wait because now I've got my own little guy out in the front yard to take care of feeding the critters.

Hopefully the squirrels and birds will be happy with their new garden friend...

And the frog and bunny, too, I suppose!

Triple-Dog Dare Ya!

2009-04-24T12:10:00.000-07:00

The following home video is brought to you, courtesy of this Monkey Moma, so you can have a good laugh. You'll definitely want to watch- the expressions are priceless.

We were eating steak the other night, and Blessing #3 eats his with ketchup. I showed him Daddy's "most special Vietnamese, uh, ketchup," told him it was the hot stuff, and said I'd give him a quarter if he took a bite of it with his steak. Surprisingly, he agreed and had taken the bite before I could even think about getting the camera out. It was hilarious, so of course I had to get him to do it again.:-D

Up the dare; up the ante- One bite of steak with a big glob of the paste and earn a dollar.

I was prepared this time and had the camera ready to roll.

Blessing #3 took the dare on his own free will. And, he really did enjoy himself. In fact, he decided to make a job out of eating the chili paste to earn some "more dollars," but it was a one-time offer. :)

Overheard

2009-04-23T13:37:00.000-07:00

Overheard in the Monkey Bus:

Blessing #5:

Someday I want to be a squirrel.

Hmmmm... or maybe a daddy.

Then I can climb on the roof of the house...

It's rather shocking that I was actually able to hear him say this, as Blessing #4 fills the entire noise capacity of the car with her singing. To those of you who know her, it will probably surprise you to know that the girl actually only has two volumes when she is in the "on" position:

Loud. And Really Loud.

Blessing #4 likes to belt out the songs on her Disney "CD" player, and as her seat is behind mine in the car, that means she belts them out in my ears. Yesterday, I secretly took a video of her by pointing my camera in that little space between the seat and the headrest. Then I demanded that the joyful noises be taken down a notch, taking her from Really Loud to just Loud.

Be sure to watch B#5 dancin' away in the backseat.

Resurrection Sunday

2009-04-12T15:23:00.000-07:00

He was delivered over to death for our sins

and was raised to life for our justification.
Therefore, since we have been justified through faith,

we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ,

through whom we have gained access

by faith into this grace

in which we now stand.

And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.

Romans 4:25-5:2

Poisoning

2009-04-09T09:12:00.001-07:00

Visions of Mexican jumping beans are again flashing through my thoughts. Blessing #5 is spending his days in his brother's "outside workin' hat" with its wide brim set atop his three-year-old head. My little lad is happily bouncing around in his mock-sombrero.

As we headed to soccer practice yesterday afternoon, I overheard the big girls talking to each other about B#5, while they sat on either side of him in the back seat of the Monkey Bus.

"Look," says B#2, "He's got a bumpy thermometer on his ear."

"Look," says B#1, "He's got one on this side, too."

"I told you there were goosebumps," says B#2.

Kids, right?

I was driving to the practice at the time and didn't think too much of their conversation. Until later when B#5 was sitting in the driver's seat with me. Then I was thinking about it.

The outer edges of his ears are red and blistered, a.k.a. the bumpy thermometers. He isn't sunburned, and he doesn't have blisters anywhere else.

We are now fairly certain that we are dealing with a case of "juvenile spring eruption of the ears," a probable variant and localized form of "polymorphic light eruption." It is considered a delayed allergic reaction to light, sometimes referred to as sun poisoning.

Niiiiice. But it doesn't seem to be a huge deal, and for now, a big hat and cortizone are all we need.

Andale! Andale! Arriba! Arriba!

2009-04-08T13:09:00.000-07:00

Blessing #4: Moma, someday can we get a swimming pool in the backyard? And a bouncy bean?

Visions of Mexican jumping beans hop through my head.

Me: A bouncy bean?

B#4: Yah, a bouncy bean. And a swimming pool. If Daddy says so, maybe?

Me: Uh, I dunno... what's a bouncy bean?

B#4: You know, Mom. A bah-oun-cee bee-een. That circle thing you jump on?

Ah... a trampoline. :)

Grrrrrrr...

2009-04-06T22:42:00.000-07:00

I hear footsteps on the stairs after the kids have been put to bed:

Monkey Moma: I hear someone on the stairs...

Blessing #3: Well, Moma. Zacchaeus is under [B#5's] bed. I can hear him growling under there.

I can not figure out why the dog would be under his bed or why he'd be growling. So up the stairs I go. By the time I get in the room, B#3 is on his hands and knees, peering under B#5's bed.

B#3: I don't get it, Moma. He must have zoomed away because he's not there any more. Where did he go?

I am in the process of getting on my knees to take a peek when he says, "Did you hear him? Zacchie just growled again! Don't you hear him, Moma? I don't get it! He's not under the bed, but where is he?"

I look under the bed.
No dog.

I hear a low growl.
Not a dog.

B#5 is fast asleep.

And snoring. :)

ka-boom!

2009-04-05T17:53:00.000-07:00

Launching water rockets in the backyard park...
with our homemade water-rocket launcher!

An Engineer's Brain

2009-03-28T21:04:00.000-07:00

The boy follows through. He got that idea in his head, and he didn't let it go. Blessing #3 spent the evening creating his vacuum, er, I mean dirt picker-upper. Now he's hung up on the idea of his daddy helping him tomorrow to get a valve attached to it.

His words: Daddy. My dirt picker-upper needs a valve. Dad. Dad. Dad. Daa-ad, tomorrow can we put a valve on it? Can we, dad? My dirt picker-upper still needs a valve, dad.

After he told me he had finished building his "machine," I told him to bring it inside so I could take a picture.

You'll have to come out in the garage, moma. It's too big to fit inside.

So from the driveway, standing in the rain, I snapped pictures of the creation. As it was too big to fit into the house, it was also too big to fit in one frame of a picture... so I snapped three.

Overheard... and a birthday, too

2009-03-26T13:16:00.000-07:00

This afternoon in the car, Blessing #3 looks out the window and sees a big pile of dirt in a yard.

B#3: Moma, why is there a big pile of dirt on the sidewalk?

Monkey Moma: I don’t know. Maybe they are digging a hole or something.

B#3: Hmmm… you know what I’m going to invent when we get home? A dirt picker-upper.

MM: Oh really?

B#3: Yeah, so then people can pick up dirt.

MM: Do you mean like a vacuum cleaner?

B#3: No, I mean like a dirt picker-upper. And it’s going to have a tank and a long tube that sucks up the dirt and a switch to turn it off and on and it’ll plug in. And then I’ll dump the dirt from the tank into a bowl. Mom, do you have a bowl I can use for my invention?

MM: Do you mean like a trashcan?

B#3: No, I mean like a bowl. Then I’ll dump the dirt from the bowl into a trashcan.

Recently we had just given B #1 a lesson on how, during matters of discipline, “correcting” her parents was disrespectful and that she didn’t need to get in the last word, didn’t need to fight over facts that aren’t up for interpretation anyway. “Especially,” I told her, “when you’re wrong.”

B#2, who was obviously eavesdropping, says, “Moma, Daddy... She wasn’t correcting you at all. She was actually incorrecting you.”

That got a laugh from the Hunky Monkey and the Monkey Moma. That was so clever that we now use it quite often, facetiously or not.

As in: Oh, don’t you even think about incorrecting me!

Before lunch, as he’s using the Windex to clean the sliding glass door, B#3 says: Oh, moma. I got some Windex on my hand. That should keep me nice and clean, shouldn’t it? That’s why I just wiped the rest of it on my head. To get the dirt off, you know.

B#4 had her fifth birthday Monday. After the biggies were all out of school, we went to the park and played… until it got too windy and cold. We ate dinner (she chose Nothing But Noodles- an especially good choice as Mondays are “kids eat free” night!) and had a chocolate kitty cake before bed.

And fortunately I realized- before anyone else noticed!- that I had accidentally put a 4 on the cake rather than a 5. I was able to correct it before the cake came out and we were singing "Happy Birthday." B#4 might've cried had she seen that I really did cancel her birthday so she wouldn't get any older!

Idle hands...

2009-03-18T18:49:00.001-07:00

Some things are a hassle.

Like having to transfer the newly-purchased gallon of milk to quart jars.

Some things are disturbing.

Like the discovered floaties in that new gallon of milk.

Because while occupying his time awaiting a refill, someone *ahem* Blessing #5 *ahem* felt the need to drop a wood chip and a macaroni noodle into the jug.

choose your horse wisely

2009-03-16T07:53:00.000-07:00

And Disney teaches us another way to discern between good and evil:

Overheard in the kitchen-

Blessing #4: No, no, no! The bad guys always ride the brown horses, and the princes always ride the white horses!

B#3: No, they're black horses, not brown!

B#4: They're brown! And the princes always ride white horses!

turkey tacos, anyone?

2009-03-13T09:56:00.000-07:00

Buying in bulk. That's what we do around here. Milk by the six-gallons. Eggs by the five-dozen. Whipping cream by the half-gallon. ;-)

Speaking of that whipping cream, I got it all used. Some for filling the cake, some for soup, and the rest whipped up and into the freezer for topping off hot chocolate, coffee, and ice cream!

Yep, whipped it up, put it in mini-muffin tins, froze it, transferred to a gallon ziploc.

Just moments ago, I realized that somebody (I won't mention any names *ahem*) put a cooler ice block on top of all my beautifully frozen whipped cream dollops. I know have a whipped cream blob. That would have been a lot easier to begin with. Hmmm, I could've thrown it in a tub and called it Cool Whip.:)

I am also, while I type this, in the process of browning five pounds of ground turkey. I don't know why exactly, but I have always been a little turned off by that big log of turkey-in-a-tube. Until I got it for $4. And then that big log of turkey-in-a-tube was quite appealing. So I am browning (which, I might add, takes a long time) five pounds of ground turkey to freeze in smaller servings to mix in with other things... like more expensive ground beef.

Hopefully it's decently tasty since I'm going to have a lot to use.

School Cool Boy

2009-03-04T16:46:00.000-08:00

Practicing endurance for those high school locker-stuffing bullies.

March comes in like a lion...

2009-03-02T22:44:00.000-08:00

We started off March with a bang. At least we ended the first day of March with a bang.

We finished up our quickie meal at McDonald's last night, and I looked on the floor under the table and saw that Blessing #3's coat had fallen down there.

"You better get your coat off the floor," I said. "It's nasty down there."

So, he stepped down to get the coat of that nasty floor.

And in the process, he stepped on the coat, which slid, and his feet went up while the rest of him went down.

Boom, bang, crack. Cheek hits edge of table, head bounces and hits side of booth, body drops and chin busts open on that nasty floor.

A deep cut but a "clean" one. It needed stitches or something, but we weren't quite sure it warranted an expensive trip to the ER, and the urgent care center was no longer taking patients.

So instead of driving to the hospital, we drove to the RiteAid. But as luck would have it, they were out of all the bandaging/first-aid supplies we needed. So we went across the street to the grocery store, and the Hunky Monkey bought some sterile guaze and butterfly strips.

And we set up in the kitchen and put him back together.

B#3 is as good as new. Or so we hope when we remove the bandage covering the butterflies! He can now join the club of busted-chin scarring. (The monkey daddy has got one, and the monkey moma has got two.)

He got to stay home today and take it easy. I can't even count how many times we had to tell him to take it easy and to stop running in the house. It looks like he might have to miss out on his first spring soccer game this week... wouldn't want him to get bumped before it heals up all the way.

So I had a "long" school day in that I only had to make the trip there twice- once to drop the older girls off, and once to pick them up. Except for the phone call from B#1 who had left her glasses in the front window. (Again.) And I got to make my middle-of-the-day trip anyway.

I used part of my long day to make a chocolate pie. I have been talking about making one since Thanksgiving, and I finally did it. My excuse was all that whipping cream I needed to use. :)

I finished putting it together tonight, and B#6 completely lost it in a fussing fit in the middle of beating the cream, so I was holding her while whipping. She eyed that whipped cream and jabbed her hand in it.

She thought it was tasty. :)

It was.:)

I am looking forward to tomorrow morning.

Because when there's leftover pie, you get to eat it for breakfast.

More homework

2009-02-18T12:37:00.000-08:00

After returning home from kindergarten a little bit ago, Blessing #3 began working on his homework. Apparently, in addition to being a left-handed, he is also upside-down-eyeballed.

Please note the orientation of his "practice writing these words" sheet.

birthday blunders

2009-02-17T17:46:00.000-08:00

The Hunky Monkey (my B.H.) was at Costco last night, picking up a couple things after filling up his tank with gas. I call him, “While you’re there, pick me up some whipping cream, and I’ll make a chocolate roll-up for my birthday cake.”

Apparently, Costco has up-sized dairy quantities. They are no longer selling the quart size. Oh no. Now I am the proud owner of a half-gallon of heavy whipping cream. Granted, it was a very good price for a half-gallon of heavy whipping cream. 5-something dollars. Definitely a good deal, but even so, I’ve got lots of whipping cream. I’ll be whipping and whipping and whipping… lots of whipped cream and freezing up like three-hundred and two double-dollops.

I digress.

So, as I now have a half-gallon of whipping cream, I thought to my self, “Hmmm, Self…. I’ll just make two chocolate roll-ups. Eight people, including a dessert-loving moma, and a lot of whipping cream mean that I need, not one cake, but two.”

So cake-bakin’ I did. As I unrolled my two beautiful cakes, whipped of a bunch of cream, and began to spread it out on the first of the cakes, I thought to myself, “Self, you really shouldn’t do this right here! Now you will have to move a cream-filled, rolled-up chocolate cake from the counter to the dish!” Then I paused and thought again to myself, “Ah, Self! You can do it! After all you’re a big girl now!”

So I spread.

And I rolled.

Apparently jinxed by the phone call conversation with my brother not 17 seconds beforehand—about none other than about baking dumping catastrophies...

And I dumped.

And then I stomped my foot and let out a frustrated growl.

Happy birthday, huh.

At least I made two.:)

Snack Time

2009-02-12T14:08:00.000-08:00

I always wear my hair up.
Hunky Monkey (a.k.a. the Monkey Daddy, a.k.a. my Beloved Husband) prefers it down.
I want a haircut.
Hunky Monkey prefers it long.

He doesn't understand why I want it in my sloppy bun all the time.
Or why I want to cut it shorter.

I've explained. But I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm just making excuses.

I put Blessing #6 in front of the webcam earlier so she could watch herself on the computer...
I took a series of pictures while we were sitting there.

Comic Relief...

2009-02-02T12:12:00.000-08:00

...by a just-turned 3-year-old.

Last week on our Awana “date night”:

Mid-dinner, B#5 stands on the booth bench, arches his back, thrusts his bottom out…

...and then starts shaking it side-to-side, along with some shoulder shrugs, to the Latin beat accompanying our meal.

It was hilarious, but as it seemed of poor restaurant etiquette and because he has a highly sophisticated mother, he was told to sit down.

From the backseat of the car, the sweet sing-song of B#5 is overheard:

“Mary , did you know? That your baby boy would one day walk on water?..."

"Mary, did you know? That your baby boy would one day walk on a trash can?
*hee,hee*snort,snort*hee,hee*”

After pulling into a parking lot, B#4 spots an old pickup with a field-fencing “cage” around the bed.

“Is that a catnapper? Moma, mom. Maaaaaahhhhm. Is that a catnapper? Oh, wait, I forgot. I thought it was a catnapper, but now I see the shovel.” (She has evidently mistaken it for an animal control vehicle.)

B#5 clears the confusion:
“I think it is a monkey.” The man opens the door and gets out of his truck. “Yep, it’s a monkey.”

Yesterday morning, B#3 is undressing to get into the shower with his little brother who is waiting in the tub.

Gasps of excitement from B#5:
“Bellybuttons! Two bellybuttons!”

Pointing to his own, “One bellybutton!”

Pointing to his brother’s, “And two bellybuttons! Two bellybuttons in the bathroom!”

The VeggieTales’ Bellybutton song mysteriously begins to fill the bathroom… or at least fill my head. (Heard it? It’s a hoot.)

Shaking his head, “Moma’s got no bellybutton. Only me and [B#3].”

Bellybutton is apparently code for… well, for something other than bellybutton. If you, ahem, know what I mean.

Moma's Girl

2009-01-28T09:58:00.000-08:00

Ah... I wonder who she takes after?:):):)

Yay! It's cold again!

2009-01-22T10:43:00.000-08:00

No, not yay for cold weather- Yay for a cold fridge!

After over a week without use of my kitchen refrigerator, the appliance repairman finally came again last night. At like 5:30 and after a couple phone calls to find out if he was still coming. He was scheduled to come between 3 and 5. BH wondered why he left his work meeting early to be home at 3 if the guy didn’t even show up!

I digress.

The repairman returned after a week. He brought the new computer board that was broken that had shut down the fridge. After replacing it, he then informs me that the refrigerator is still broken- that the compressor is fried, too. Visions of another week spent going to and from the garage for a cup of milk or for jelly to put on the sandwiches dance through my head.

These are not happy visions.

“Hear that hum and pop?” he says. “That’s not good. That means that the compressor isn’t working.”

But, alas, he was wrong. He eventually ran a double-check with a double-checker thingamajig. He put in a new relay thingamabopper and the compressor worked. So it wasn’t a fried compressor but, rather, a fried relay. He had a relay dealyschmealy in his truck, so he was able to replace it last night and not have to order another part.

What’s funny (not so ha-ha funny but more ironic funny) about the week-long awaited repair is that the part was shipped OVERNIGHT in the first place… because a broken refrigerator is a really big, important deal.

And because this made me laugh, here is a blip from Blessing #3’s bedtime prayer:

“…in Jesus’s name, Amen!.... wait, wait, wait. Oh yeah, and God? Thank you for this world because if you didn’t make us this world, then we’d all just be floating around in space. And then we wouldn’t be able to eat. And it’d be hard to get a drink. So thank you for this world! Amen!”

B#5 turns 3!

2009-01-20T09:44:00.000-08:00

Blessing #5 is three years old today! The little guy is all about his "Teddy." His Muggins and I found Teddy at TJ Maxx when he was itty bitty, and he has been totally attached to it from the beginning.

That said, it wasn't too surprising when he asked for a bear cake. This moma aims to please (when it comes to birthday cakes, at least!), so yesterday afternoon I baked the cake, and last night, after the kids went to bed, I put it together.

A doubled cake recipe baked in...
2 pyrex bowls
+2 coffee mugs
+1 small casserole dish
+4 cupcakes
---
=1 teddy cake... and lots of dirty dishes!:)

But the result was worth it. He was very excited to come downstairs this morning and see his Teddy in the form of chocolate fudge cake and caramel frosting.

More pictures of the birthday celebratin' are sure to follow...
I just need to find where I put my camera last night after I took the pictures of the cake!

Career Day

2009-01-17T19:19:00.000-08:00

Breakfast Friday morning and my three little students for "career day"--

Blessing #2 in Voice #1: Doctor! Doctor! We need a doctor!
Blessing #2 in Voice #2: I'm a doctor. What's the problem?
B#2 in V#1: Something is wrong with the patient!
B#2 in V#2: You're right. The patient has no heartbeat.

And I'm certain she was right. She had her sthethoscope against her cereal bowl.

Blessing #3 was a carpenter, so he wore his L'il Helper duds that he uses when working with daddy. Against his protests, this Monkey Moma replaced his real tools with a few plastic ones.

Blessing #1 wanted to be a teacher. The night before I asked her what she would dress in to be a teacher. She said, "just like what I wear everyday!" She most certainly planned it that way- that way if no one else in class was participating in career day, she wouldn't be embarrassed! Rather than send her to school with a pencil over the ear and a stack of textbooks- which she wouldn't have gone for anyway- I made her a school I.D. badge.

Blessing #6 even participated.

Modesty

2009-01-15T12:58:00.000-08:00

As I am in the kitchen working on dinner for tonight, Blessing #4 asks if she can hold B#6, who has just eaten. She gets her out of the seat and carries her over toward the couch.

I hear a gurgly, loud baby belch.

I hear a shrilly squeal from B#4.

I look over at her. She looks over at me.

"She spit up, Moma. Awww... pickles. It's on the carpet, Moma."

I tell her it's okay, that I'll clean it all up.

I grab the baby from her, take B#6's pants off. I use my dish towel to wipe the chunky, milky spits from the baby, from B#4's shirt, from between B#4's toes, from B#4's feet, from the floor. After it's all cleaned, I tell B#4 she needs to take off her shirt.

"Moma. I am not a boy."

Say what?

2009-01-11T18:57:00.000-08:00

In our house, so-called "bad words" are an interesting thing. To the outsider, it might often sound like we've got some kiddos with... ah, liberal language.

"Wahh! Moooo-oomm! She called me the 'B' word! The 'B-I-' word, Mom!"

The "B" being "Big ol' meanie."

"Moooo-oomm! He said the 'S' word to me! He did, Moma. He said the 'S-H-' word! I heard him!"

The "S" being "Shush."

Or take Blessing #3. Several months ago, he was going around hitting stuff with his superhero toy. "Bam! Bam! Bam it!"

I knew what he was saying, but it probably didn't sound that way. Without tainting his innocence in it all, I encouraged him to find another expression, telling him that it sounded a little like he was saying a not-very-nice thing and that we wouldn't want others to think he was talking that way.

More recently, as in yesterday, he dropped his pencil, grinned, and "fussed" about that silly dropped pencil... relaying his feigned frustration with the utterance of the "D" word. The real one.

From his moma's bugged-out eyes, I'm sure it was fairly obvious that what he said was not a good thing. The grin on his face got a little bigger, but now it was tinged with some embarrassment and guilt.

I picked my jaw up from the floor and we had the talk. The nice-boys-don't-want-to-say-that-kind-of-yucky-word-because-it-hurts-Moma's-ears-and-makes-Jesus-sad talk.

He apologized and said he wouldn't say it anymore.

We're driving home from Target tonight, and as we got stopped at yet another traffic light I gave a pirate growl, a semi-frustrated "argh."

From the backseat, he says, "Oh, bro-other..."

There's a bit of time while he reflects on what he's just said. "Mom? Is it okay for me to say that? To say 'oh brother?'"

Just in case it wasn't okay, he whispers out the last words in his teeny-tiniest voice.

"Yes," I say.

"What about 'oh man'? Is it okay for me to say that when we have to stop?"

"Yes," I say with a smile.

He thinks for a few more seconds. "Yup. We have to be able to say those things 'cause sometimes something happens and you start to say something else, but it's that one thing we shouldn't say, so we have to stop and change it into something else, so we say an okay word and don't say that bad one. Right, Moma? That's why God lets us say 'oh man' and 'oh brother.'"

Homework

2009-01-06T12:26:00.000-08:00

Blessing #3 came home from Kindergarten yesterday and was eager to get back to homework after a long Christmas break.

He sat at the table, and I gave him his homework box. As I worked in the kitchen, I would look over and see him from behind, working so intently. I was impressed with his focus, as he can get a little distracted with his homework... he likes to "decorate" the pages with scissor-cuts and the like.

The letter of the week is W, so he was saying W words that he could draw and cut out of the newspaper. He found a woman in an ad, and I heard the excited snip-snip of those little lefty scissors.

I went to the garage, and as I came back through the room, I got a good look at him hard at work.

I took a picture.

Look a little closer.

A little closer.

Drivin' into 2009

2009-01-01T16:32:00.000-08:00

It's January 1, 2009, which means that, even though we're 1,200 miles away, the aroma of a New Mexico New Year's Day is filling the house! Posole is on the stove; carne adovada is in the oven... the only thing that would make it better is to have some tamales, but that's not happening. I am done cooking for today!

I found Blessing #5 pounding sweet music on the piano (after hearing him, obviously!) and snuck around the corner to watch. I was met with a precious rendition of "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands."

He's got the whole world in the van;
He's got the whole world in the van;
HE GOT DA HO WOLD IN DA BAN!!!

If the disciples rode in a Honda (Acts 2:1 says so... at least according to King James!), then maybe God has an Odyssey.:):):)

December 25, 2008

2008-12-25T08:24:00.000-08:00

~Isaiah 9:6~
For unto us a Child is born, Unto us a Son is given; And the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Then Jesus cried out and said,
“He who believes in Me, believes not in Me
but in Him who sent Me.
And he who sees Me sees Him who sent Me.
I have come as a light into the world,
that whoever believes in Me should not abide in darkness.
And if anyone hears My words and does not believe,
I do not judge him;
for I did not come to judge the world
but to save the world."

~John 12:44-47~

Wishing you a blessed Christmas!

Reindeer Food

2008-12-24T00:00:00.000-08:00

Come, Dasher.
Come, Dancer.
Come, Prancer and Vixen.
Come, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen.
Come, Rudolph.

For when we leave cookies and milk for ~~Santa~~ Daddy,
we will also leave nibbles for ~~all the reindeer~~ Moma.

Sure, it might look like dog food, but it definitely doesn't taste like it...
Not that I know what dog food tastes like!!:):):)

The Prayer Progression

2008-12-23T09:16:00.000-08:00

The Blessings say the blessing...

When praying, the older girls will thank God for everything He has “provided” or has “given us.” Blessings #s 3&4 are usually more detailed. B#4 thanks God for pretty dresses, daddy’s birthday, “moma letting us watch a video,” B#3’s “new bed so that I can have my bed closer to the window,” and so on.

Last night, B#3 was praying for dinner:

"...and thank you for everything you made for us. For moma making this spaghetti and for these yummy new red and green noodles. And thank you for broccoli even though I don’t like broccoli and thank you for..."

After he finished, B#5 said, “I wanna pray! I wanna pray! I wanna pray!”

So we let our food get a little colder, and, of course, we let him pray, too! He took a slightly different approach:

"Dear God, thank you for this day. Thank you for this food. Thank you for my family. Thank you for everything we made. We made lunch. We made noodles. We made our bed. In Jesus’ name, Amen."

Santa Claus Jesus Christ is Coming

2008-12-21T17:23:00.000-08:00

As promised, here they are...! I re-recorded them this morning before church.

Pause the video in the sidebar, and turn up your speaker volume!

Aren't they precious?!:):):)

Holidaze

2008-12-15T12:32:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, Blessing #2 signed up my little monkeys to perform in our church’s family Christmas program. I was a little shocked, as my troop has not exactly been the singing & performing type... at least not in a public setting! But we were on the list, so we figured something out. We didn’t get a whole lot of practice in because they weren’t too cooperative with the whole idea of that (unless it was bedtime, and then they all got very eager to practice!), but they were all pretty excited to "do the show.”

We had the program last night. They did great; we could hear their sweet voices; it was really cute.

So rather than just brag about my monkeys, here is where I put up the video I shot of the Big 5 standing on stage, singing loud & proud. The first thing I did when we got home was rush in to play it back and upload it for the blog!

But, alas, I did not record them. No, instead I recorded my lap and a bunch garble-garble of in-between-performances audience chatter.

ARGGHHH!!!!

I guess when I hit the record button, I was only taking it out of standby, and when I hit the button again to stop the recording, I was actually starting it.

ARGGHHH!!!!

So now I will have to line them up in the living room and have them perform for a slightly smaller audience (of me!) so you can hear them sing “Jesus Christ is Coming Again” to the tune of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” It won’t be the same, but it will have to do.

So frustrating.

Along with the church programs and carols and garland and bows and bells and nativities and lights and all the great stuff to start getting you in the Christmas mood (and a moma video mess-up to get me in the Scrooge mood), it has also been snowing the last few days... so it is really feeling like Christmas time.

School was on a 2-hour delay today because of the snow and ice, but did I let my kids sleep in and enjoy it? No way! Did I tell them? No way! I got them up as usual, had them dressed, fed, bundled up, and out the door at the usual time. Because (*SURPRISE!*) what better way was there to start off this new week than for me to make a trip to the post office on the busiest postal day of the entire year? To make a trip to the post office on the busiest postal day of the entire year with six tag-alongs!

The snow was actually to my advantage, I think. Maybe a few less brave souls were willing to get to the post office at opening time... and I was also able to put a couple to work as box carriers.

So into the post office we trekked... B#6 in the back seat of the stroller, the biggest box in the front seat, B#s 1&2 carrying a big box each. The Big 5 and I stomped in through snow piles, while B#6 rolled along and ate her breakfast.

We made it just in time. There were only 5 or 6 people in front of us... and in just a couple minutes there was already a dozen behind us. We made it to the counter in just a few minutes. The kids were good, but they were probably happy to see us go, as the monkeys spread out and we practically took over the place. And a stroller makes a good step-stool... because when it was my turn, I had all the monkeys trying to hang over the counter and be nosy!

Oh, and just because I thought of it, here’s a good laugh. I stopped by the grocery store yesterday to pick up a few serrano chiles for my salsa trio I was putting together (pico de gallo, salsa verde, black bean & corn) for the food after the Christmas program. I had already bought my chiles the day before but had accidentally roasted all of them when I meant to leave a couple fresh serranos for the pico de gallo.

I digress.

I go in to buy 2 serranos. They have none. So I grab a jalapeno pepper. But because it seems a little silly to make a trip to the over-priced grocery store to buy 1 jalapeno pepper, I grab a few more and get in line with my baggie of 5 jalapeno peppers. As I’m paying, I pull out the check card and ask the cashier to run it as credit.

While leaving I look at the receipt and realize I’ve just charged 62 cents.

Now that’s silly.

Tonic Sol-fa

2008-12-04T14:24:00.000-08:00

We saw this four-man group on PBS last night, and they were really fun to hear and to watch. The kids were dancing in the family room! Totally a cappella... a barbershop quartet with some beatboxin' thrown in.

PAUSE THE VIDEO IN THE SIDEBAR!

Who's there?

2008-12-04T14:11:00.000-08:00

Overheard, Blessing #3 to B#5:

"Hey, you are really knocking on my nerves."

Guardian angels

2008-11-22T21:09:00.000-08:00

At bedtime, I had just finished reading Are You My Mother? to Blessing #4. B#3, who shares the room, had been listening and then asked if I'd read part of the Christmas story to them.

We got to the part with the angel shining brightly, and B#3 interrupted me.

Luke 2:8 And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. [9] An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them...

"Of course an angel wouldn't have appeared to me today. Of course not. Right, Moma? An angel won't appear to me today."

It took me a while to figure out why he was saying that, but it finally hit me. He knows those angels wouldn't want to hurt his eyes by shining too brightly in them... he had an ophthalmologist appointment today, and the doctor dilated his eyes. :):):)

B#3 is 6!

2008-11-18T14:01:00.000-08:00

Blessing #3 turned SIX on Friday! It's hard to believe it has already been another year. These monkeys sure do grow up quickly! He wanted Red Robin for his birthday dinner, so we went there Thursday (when it wouldn't be as busy!) to celebrate. As soon as we sat down, he let the waitress know we were there because it was his birthday. Before we left the restaurant that evening, she had brought him an ice cream sundae, three balloons, and the entire waitstaff to sing to him. I don't know if he realized that all that singing was for him, but he definitely enjoyed that sundae! Since he had all that ice cream, he decided he wanted to save the birthday cake for Friday night. That was okay with us- we were full!:):):) He had a lot of fun. He has been running around in his spy gear his Aunt J sent him, setting up his alarm system (so he'll know if you get near his stuff), writing invisible messages, and using his special light to read the invisible messages. The spy gear tool belt is especially cute when he's got on his cowboy hat and new birthday cowboy boots. I snuck around and bought the boots in secret when he wasn't around. He had no idea they were coming. I saw them at WalMart for $17, looked around at other places to see what I could see elsewhere, and ended up going back to WalMart to buy them. I got them a few sizes too big so he could get lots of use out of them.

As we headed out the door for school yesterday, I told him he could wear his pants legs over his boots if he didn't want to be working so hard tucking the pants into the boots. That was out of the question. "But I want to see the designs on my boots!"

He has been busy drawing pictures and writing in his journal. He let me know that he was starting a birthday club, and every one in the family was in his club. I looked at the page he was working on, and above his name it said he was "Club Dirctr." For months, he has been telling me that he wanted a house cake. He even drew me a picture with labels.
So, a house "with yellow paint and blue shingles" we had-- with six candles making the chimney... and green-tinted coconut for the lawn.

Here is a video of the birthday boy just after opening his present...

As always, before viewing, turn off the music in the sidebar and turn up the volume for the video-- I've put it to an appropriate song!

Outerspace

2008-11-12T11:00:00.000-08:00

Details.
It’s all in the details.

Yesterday afternoon I made the last-minute decision to haul all the kids to the grocery store for a quick trip to get non-perishable food items. For Bunco we were collecting for a Thanksgiving-donation to the food bank, and the classes at school are collecting for the local rescue mission.

We’re loading into the Monkey Bus. I’m deciding where to go… WinCo. WalMart. WinCo. WalMart. WinCo. I finally decided on WalMart.

We were very efficient, going up and down a couple aisles, grabbing a few of these, a few of those, one of that.

We zipped into line. I purposely chose the lane we were in. It was smack-dab in front of the Family Fun Center… the mini-arcade for kids. That way, as I waited in line, I was able to send Blessings #s1-5 into game room where I could watch them while they played. (Hmmm… this reminds me of another time when B#3 climbed the wall and snuck into the childcare center at Fred Meyer. You can read about that here.)

I watched, counted heads, loaded canned food and ramen noodles and beans onto the conveyor belt, watched, counted heads. So as Miss Cashier Lady is scanning my food, B#2 comes out of the room and over towards me, followed by B#3… and B#1… and B#4… and B#5. Someone has just taken B#3’s coat, B#2 informs me. I ask a couple questions, send them back to the room, tell Miss CL, she calls for a Customer Service Manager, I pay for my food, I tell Miss CSM that someone has just stolen my son’s coat from the play room. Miss CSM gives me a look- the whaddayawantmetodoaboutit look.

So here’s the long story shortened but still long:
I describe in great detail B#3’s brand-new Spider-Man coat. Reversible. Fleece on one side. Navy. Spider-Man wording and pictures stitched on both sides. His name written along the waistband of one side.

I describe in great detail the details my sweet, sweet Blessings have told me. A man, or he could have been a teenager, B#2 tells me, came in and picked up the coat B#3 had set down behind the car. (Yes, they all saw him, but, no, they didn’t say anything. They’re kids, I keep reminding myself. Kids are hesitant to speak up.) The man took the coat, went back through the lanes and into the store. So Miss CSM gives all this great detailed information to the Crime Prevention Dudes in the back. Mr. CPD watches the video surveillance from the game room, gets a description of the man who snatched the coat, and sends out his undercover dudes to roam through the store in pursuit of the man with my son’s coat.

This whole process takes quite a while, as it takes time to relay messages, scan video footage, and find this man shopping in WalMart with all the other WalMart shoppers. All the while, I am reporting the theft of this winter coat to the police department just for the principle of it all. Sure it’s like “whoopti-doopti,” but that’s what I was told I needed to do.

So I describe in great detail to Miss Police Officer all about the Spider-Man coat, the when, the where, the how… all of it down to the minute. I describe the man’s clothes… well, as best I can. (B#1: I think he was wearing red. B#2: No, it was blue.) Because that’s what she asked for. Because that way the police department can review the videos.

I give her my name, my address, my phone number, my birthdate. In the meantime, my monkeys are getting restless. B#4 stands on the hood of the car ride. (Get down. Now.) B#5 has found toy containers that come out of the bubble gum machines… and he tosses them out of the room and into the aisles of the checkout lanes. (Do not throw those! Go pick them up. Right now.) B#s 1 and 2 are hovering, listening to every word that is spoken.

Miss CSM walks over to me, but I have her wait as I am in a very important conversation with the law enforcement. “Is that your son?” she finally asks. I turn and look. He has climbed up on top of the basketball game to get down a stuck basketball he saw. He’s like ten feet up. I am seriously looking like that mother. Yeah, that one. The one with the out-of-control kids. Except for B#6 who is amazingly still asleep in the carrier after this extended shopping trip.

Miss CSM brings Mr. CPD over to tell me the news. They found the man on the video. They followed him from the store and into the parking lot. But of the kids’ coat in the basket, the Spider-Man jacket was not there. No, the jacket in his cart was really more of a sorta-purple coat, he says. “Well,” I sigh, “that wouldn’t be it. The Spider-Man is definitely not a purple coat. It’s red and navy.” This, of course, they already know, as I have described the Spider-Man coat in great detail several times.

We leave the store and walk out to the car. As we’re trudging across the parking lot, fighting the wind and rain, I hear B#4 ask which coat was taken. B#2 says, “It was the one Moma and Daddy got him.” “No,” I say. “We didn’t get him that one. It was the one Gamma just gave him for his birthday.”

“No it wasn’t.”

Huh? What? Well which one was it?

Turns out, it wasn’t the Spider-Man coat at all. Why no one bothered to tell me this when I was explaining it in such great detail to the WalMart people. And the POLICE.

ARGH!

No, it was the one we got him. The one with the navy and khaki and maroony-purpley.

ARGH!

So, we turn around and go back to the store. I have them track down Miss CSM for me so I can tell her that I’ve actually mistakenly described the wrong jacket. To which she informs me of the sad truth that, in fact, that was the coat they saw in the man’s cart.

ARGH!

Then I realize I must call the police officer and let her know that I’m a complete space cadet and have given the wrong information in this case they’ve opened on behalf of my son’s stolen coat. “Yes, I just talked to you about the stolen coat? Well, in fact, it was not the Spider-Man coat, but it was a hooded coat/winter vest combination thingamajigger… and it is not navy and red and reversible. It is khaki and navy and maroony-purpley.”

ARGH!

We re-leave the store and re-walk back to the car. I am on the verge of tears because I am so frustrated. I’ve spent an hour dealing with a stolen coat and would’ve had the stinkin’ thing back if I’d actually given them the right description.

But we turned it into a big learning opportunity.

-You never set down anything when you’re out, or someone might grab it.

-If you see someone taking something of yours, speak up and stop them.

-If you are going to report a theft to Customer Service Managers, Crime Prevention Dudes, or Police Officers, make sure you have the correct information.

So this morning, as we’re heading out the door to school, I run upstairs to bring down B#6. As I’m coming out of the bedroom, B#3 is coming up the stairs, excitedly shouting, “It wasn’t the one you gave me after all, Moma! Look, Moma! It’s still here! I wonder how that happened!”

Apparently, B#3 is in left field and can’t remember what he was wearing. In fact, I don’t think he was even wearing a coat yesterday afternoon. And I have filed a false police report.

Apparently, I’m in left field.
Humiliation, I tell ya.

On the lighter, less-humiliating side:

-B#2 came downstairs this morning and asked for help with her jeans- she was having trouble getting her pockets tucked in. (Hmmm… I wonder why?) I first took a picture and then told her what her problem was!

-B#3’s birthday is Friday, so he is the class VIP for the week. On Friday, he brings snacks for the class, and if he can bring snacks that start with the letter of the week (I) that’s good. Other than ice cream, I thought of nothing. So we scratched that. He can also bring snacks that have to do with the theme (Indians and Thanksgiving). So I made pilgrim hats. I’ll have to label the container to make sure the teacher knows what they are, but I thought they were pretty cute.

-B#3 made the newspaper Sunday.

-B#2 keeps asking me if she can eat her NuttButts she got for Halloween. She has shortened Nutter Butters to NuttButts. “Only if you call them something else,” I say. Which she does not understand. “It’s just a shorter way to say it, Mom.”

-B#4 keeps talking about putting B#6 in the booby. I have no idea where this came from. “It’s called a walker,” I say. “I call it a booby, Mom.” Which I do not understand.

I’m not sure which is worse: NuttButt or Booby.

October 31, 2008

2008-11-02T21:12:00.000-08:00

Blessing #5:
No-smudge color. Ha. That’s a lie. False marketing, I tell ya. Fortunately, I took a picture of my little pumpkin before his jack o’lantern face was off his face and onto his clothes, the walls, the couch, and the rug. But at least I had already sewn a face on the pumpkin shirt I made him.

B#3:
Ever since he was temporarily dubbed as Mr. Frankenstaples, B#3 had decided he wanted to be Frankenstein’s monster for Halloween. I had sewn a black cape/shirt/cloak/suit/whatever-ya-call-it for him, but even on Friday, knowing I was going to paint his stitches-face, I hadn’t quite figured out how I was going to attach styrofoam bolts to his head.

After picking him up from kindergarten, we headed to the fabric/craft store to see what we could come up with. As I’m digging through the scraps of what Halloween stuff was left, B#3 pops out wearing a mask-- the lone kids’ one in the whole place-- and, goodness gracious, it was none other than the monster of Frankenstein.

Score.
And it was 60% off. Double score.

It was nice to find a silly little-boy mask. And it was especially silly when he wore it on top of the eyeball glasses Mr. Jim gave him. B#2:
She has wanted to be an Indian for months. So I made her a costume. It turned out pretty cute, I think. She was super excited about it and had danced around in it several times prior to Halloween. She even wore it to Awana for missions night... a.k.a. dress-like-people-from-other-countries night.

The first people who came to our door said, “Oh, how cute! It’s Sacajawea!” They left, she grunted and said, “I am not Sacajawea. I’m an Indian.”

The first door we went to, they answer the door and said, “Oh what cute costumes! And look! It’s Pocahontas!” We left, and she grunted. “I am not Pocahontas."

B#1:
She decided to be a princess, as she has been for probably 7 of her 9 Halloweens. I made her a princess outfit-- exactly how I made the Indian costume (just without the tasseled ends) and added a princessy cape/shawl/whatever-ya-call-it (though it looks to be on crooked in the picture). She was happy with it... and I found her having a mirror conversation with her royal, princess self.

B#4:
She wanted to be Ariel. Yay! I got to dig out the mermaid costumes I threw together a couple years ago. They were maybe a little beat up from closet storage but that was okay. Apparently she is smaller than the older girls were when I made the costumes for them because B#4’s little legs were stepping all over the fin. After a few houses, Ariel became a princess with human legs in red sweatpants.

And notice how her purple satiny clamshell bra was totally complemented by the Barney sweatshirt.

B#6:

Hers was the only costume I didn’t make. When I was at Goodwill and made the impulse buy, I forgot that I had a banana costume at home that I made several years ago. But I think she made an adorable butterfly, so I guess it was worth the $3!

Zacchaeus:
Even the dog dressed up. He wasn't a reindeer this year (as he has been every Halloween he's ever known), but instead wore a doggy shirt. In fact, he is still wearing the doggy shirt.

He's getting a bit shaggy. I know. Definitely in need of a trim. Or maybe a hack.

TRICK OR TREAT!

Turkey trot

2008-10-26T15:41:00.000-07:00

As promised, here's the video.

You'll have to turn off the music video in the sidebar, turn up the volume on your speakers, and then smile really big as you listen to the giggles and squeals of Blessing #5 while he chases Zacchaeus around the house with the popcorn popper.

Thursday at the Zoo

2008-10-23T14:19:00.000-07:00

What I’ve learned today when it comes to…

Growing Up
It’s very exciting to watch kids learn to read and to write. But there is a downside: They may start labeling items around the house, such as siblings’ personal belongings.

Said labeling by Blessing #3 includes, but is not limited to, B#1’s purse which now says “PARSS” on the pretty pink strap.

Honesty
Responding to the tears of B#3, I confronted B#5 who was methodically lining up the cars, a train stretching from bathroom to dinner table.

Monkey Moma: Did you throw a car at your brother’s head?
B#5, shaking his head with wide-eyed innocence: No.
He holds up bunny fingers: I threw two cars…. He. Mess. Up. My. Line.

Playtime
Picking up B#4 from her class, I see that another little kid has just vomited in the room, apparently hit by the tummy bug that is making its rounds. I hurry her out of the room and whisper in her ear, trying to determine the threat level to my household.

MM: Did you play with that sick little girl?
B#4: Yes.
MM: Did you touch her?
B#4: I didn’t kiss her, Mo-om!

Foreign Languages
While driving, B#1 informs me that her substitute teacher has been teaching them some Spanish.

B#1: You know, it sounds more like real Spanish if you use a Spanish accent. “Uno. Dos. Tres….” Don’t you think so, Moma?
MM: Uh, yeah. Sure!

…If, by Spanish accent, she means biting the sides of her tongue while talking.

Other Lanuages
B#s1&2 have begun conversing in Morse Code.

B#1: No, it’s long-long, not short.
B#2: No, it’s long-short-long, not long-long.
B#1: No, it’s long-long.
B#2: No, it’s short-short.
B#1: Moooom! How do you say it in Morse Code?!

MM: I don’t know Morse Code. Oh wait! I know “S”! How do you know Morse Code?
B#1: Oh, it’s in my book I’m reading.
B#2: Oh, my teacher thought it’d be fun to teach us.

School Pictures
B#3: Awww, Mom! Why’d you pick clouds? I wanted the blue stripeys one!
Stripey one is also known as the skyscraper background.

B#2: Awww, Mom! Why’d you pick clouds? I wanted the jungley one!
Jungley one is also known as the forest background.

B#1: Awww, Mom! Why’d you pick clouds? I wanted the rainbow one!
Rainbow one is also known as the multicolored, criss-cross, neon sign-esque background.

Dogs
Nevermind that he has cataracts. And allergies. And he’s been terrorized by the popcorn toy that B#5 chases him with. (a video that demontsrates such terrorizing)

Zacchaeus is in desperate need of a haircut. His doggy bangs are so long, I don’t think he can see. Between the hair and the cataracts, I’m sure he’s legally blind. He’s especially feisty and crabby these days. I decided this morning that it must be because he can’t see what’s going on around him. So I put his hair up in a ponytail. He’s a shih-tzu; he can get by with that- extra-long hair and multiple ponytails are all the rage, even for boys.

Cats
Mowgli sees cup. Mowgli thinks, “Hmmm. I wonder if there’s any milk in that cup.” Mowgli checks it out. Mowgli’s tongue is not quite long enough to reach the bottom of the cup. Mowgli pushes his head in a little farther. Mowgli gets head stuck in cup.

Bedtime
B#4 takes a nap. How she fell asleep like this, I cannot explain.

Pretend Bedtime
Upon searching for a missing 2 year old, I discovered him in B#6’s bassinet. The little turkey.

Car Seats
While nursing the baby, I turned to see two feet sticking out the back of the baby carrier. B#5 was settling in. The little turkey.

.

Soccer
While at soccer, B#3 and B#5 thought it would be fun to knock over the big Rubbermaid trashcan... well, because they could.

MM did not think it was fun putting all the garbage back into the trashcan.

Potty Training
It seems that, if B#5 can diaper himself, he should be able to potty train. Unfortunately, said 2 year old has not the desire to potty train. The little turkey.

..

Sewing Machine
B#5: Mom! There’s jelly on your sewing machine!

There’s also a sandwich. There’s also a 2 year old in the chair next to the sewing machine. The little turkey.

Piano Practice
I’ve been attempting to practice for church.

With an audience of Barbies.
While holding a baby in my lap.
While cars park in the key garages.
While carrying on kid conversations.

..

Babies
They grow up so fast… faster with every new Blessing, I think.

Outfit (and mouse!) was a gift made by the Diaries gal!

Hot Moma

2008-10-15T14:39:00.000-07:00

Yup. This moma is smokin' hot. :) Or at least my son thinks so!

After lunch's macaroni is done cooking and I'm taking to pan over to the sink, Blessing #6 says, "'Moke, Moma. I see da 'moke." Then I start to pour the noodles into the colander to drain the water, and the steam is billowing around my face as I lean over the sink. "Moma! Mom! AH!" *gasp* "Moma is da 'moke!"

Almost a year

2008-10-01T10:12:00.001-07:00

We are hard pressed on every side,
but not crushed;
perplexed, but not in despair;
persecuted, but not abandoned;
struck down, but not destroyed.
~2 Corinthians 4:8,9~

Laughter & SixBit

In less than a week, it will already be one year... I can't even grasp ahold of that. I can remember every word, every emotion, everything of that early Sunday-morning phone call. There is so much of a disconnect in my head that even though I know it's a reality, I sometimes have trouble believing it. I think it has been hard for me to accept since we're so far away. In my mind, it just feels like we'll go home for family vacation and all be together again. Yet, I know he is gone... but only from this earthly life. I am confident that we will be together again. And one day I, too, will wake up to find God's glory defined!

Only with God is it possible that we've found the peace in the sorrow.

You've spoken softly through the storm
I've heard Your voice and I've felt the calm
I stand only because You've given me faith to walk
Only because
You carried me
You carried me through it all
And I believe
You'll carry me all the way home

SixBit & baby Laughter

Baby Laughter & SixBit

Newton's 3rd Law of Motion

2008-09-22T14:26:00.000-07:00

The Law of Reciprocal Actions

Soccer video: Part one.

Turn off the music!

Note the ponytailed blond in the yellow number-3 jersey.
(Note, also, that she is a big ol' bully.)
Note my kindergartener, Blessing #3, wearing the blue number 3.

Soccer video: Part two.

Note said blond bully is now on the ground.
(Note also, though, to the credit of my sweet boy, that B#3 is not the one who knocked her to the ground.)
Watch closely- I think it was number 15.

the irony

2008-09-16T12:43:00.000-07:00

Overheard at lunch...
After a casual conversation on things that are "appropriate" and things that are "not appropriate":

Blessing #4: *cough, cough, cough, cough*

B#3 (with the authority of a 5-year-old brother) : That is not appropriate. You shouldn’t be coughing like that at the table.

B#4: *cough, cough* I choked on my milk. *cough* It went down the wrong hole.

B#3 (with the authority of a 5-year-old brother): You know, when you choke, it means that your milk went down your poo-poos hole.

When you eat, your drink goes down your wet-wets hole. And when you eat, your food goes down your poo-poos hole... Didn’t you know that?”

Update

2008-09-12T22:43:00.000-07:00

Thanks to a little free time and some inspiration
(with a link!)
from Pinky, my blog finally has a new look...

Thursday.

2008-09-05T19:24:00.000-07:00

Staples.

Blessing #3 is still milking it for all he can. Granted, the kid has got STAPLES in his head. But, really, this weary Moma can only show so much compassion and patience towards her unfortunate victim of a scissor-stabbing.

Monkey Moma: Why aren’t you dressed for school? You need to get downstairs right now!
B#3: I can’t do it. I’ve got staples. How will I get my shirt over my head?

(I remind him that he’s done this exact thing at least twice a day for the last week.)

Even so, rather than asking for that much-needed assistance, he is poring over the Lego magazine that came in yesterday’s mail.

MM: Why aren’t you out of the car yet? You need to get to class right now!
B#3: I can’t. I’ve got staples. The staples make me heavy, and it’s *grunt* hard *grunt, grunt* to move *grunt* my legs *grooooaaaannnn*.

Even so, on the brink of complete helplessness, he is able to somersault and catapult himself over the seats and out to the grass.

We go to get him after school. His teacher leads the class out of the room and down the sidewalk for pick-up.

Except he’s not with them.

I spy him by the building, gazing into the sky. I call his name, and he starts turning in circles, hands cupped around his ears. Amazingly, as he is turning himself dizzy, he catches my eye.

He skips to the car, rocking out to the tunes jammin’ in his head. (For a more accurate mental picture, watch his t-ball video.) His teacher spots him galloping over and heads towards him.

Teacher: Did you get lost from the class?
B#3: Nah. I was just lookin’.

MM: Why didn’t you follow your class? You need to stay with your teacher.
B#3: No, it’s okay…See? She was coming back for me.

He gets in the car, head still bobbing. (Must be a good song playing in there.)

MM: What did you do in class today? Did you have a good time?
B#3: Well, my music teacher asked me about my birthday.
MM: Really? What did she say?

B#3: She said, “Is your birthday blah blah blah-blah.” And I said, “I don’t know. Sure. That sounds pretty good time me.”
MM: What day did she ask? Did she say November 14? ‘Cause that’s your birthday.
B#3: No. That’s not the day she said. But it sounded good enough.

(Insert a slight pause while he thinks.)
B#3: Mom… My toes never have to go potty.
MM: Really, huh.
B#3: Nope. Not my toes. But Mr. Peeps does. I think there’s a squirt gun in his head.

We get home, and I start cooking the mac’n’cheese for lunch. The thought certainly triggered by the observance of my lingering post-baby belly, B#4 spontaneously asks, “Moma, how did the baby get out of your tummy?”

B#3: While we were all sleeping, God reached in and pulled her out, right, Moma? That’s how she got out of your tummy, isn’t it, Mom. God got her out His special way!

He’s a character, that boy. He might seem like he’s off in la-la land, but really his mind is in constant ponder. He is forever speculating and formulating, questioning and theorizing. And daydreaming.

Half the time you’d think he’s not listening to what you’re saying.

And you’d be right. He isn’t.

Ask him his name and he won’t tell you what it is. He’ll spell it for you. At super-sonic speed, all the letters slurring into one mumbly-jumbly word. This is usually met with a look of bewilderment and a “Huh? What was that?” To which he just spells it a little bit slower.

I took all the kids to Kohl’s a few nights ago so that B#3 could get some shirts for school. It was about time to get him out of those shirts that he’s been clinging to, the ones that are his “favorites”… and are three sizes too small.

MM: Oh… look at this one!
B#3: Nah.
MM: You like Star Wars. How about this fun Yoda shirt?
B#3: Nah.
MM: Oh! A Lego shirt! You love Legos.
B#3: Nah.
MM: How about this one?
B#3: Nah.
MM: You’d sure look handsome in this one.
B#3: Nah.

We finally left… with neither the Legos shirt nor the Star Wars shirt… but a Lego-Star Wars shirt. And a Wall-E shirt. And a dinosaur shirt (that came with coordinating flip-flops.) And a Transformers shirt. (It’s not really Transformers, but he thinks it is. As such, it won the top honor of being the “First Day of School Shirt.") He’s into those “designer graphics” tees, it seems. I obliged and bought because I’m just a way cool, totally hip mom. Or maybe it was because they were all half-off.

Designer graphic tees and a pair of “zippy” pants. No zipper on them… but “when you wear them, you can get things done in a zippy,” he says.

As if picking out clothing weren’t a task in itself, leaving the store was just as exciting.

Planning ahead, I’ve got to the double stroller… with B#6 in her carrier in the back and B#5 strapped into the front. I’ve got him contained. Can’t cause any trouble that way, right?

We made a last stop at the shoes on our way to the check-out. I parked the stroller in the middle of the aisle, as I helped B#1 look at these sparkly sequined fancy things that were only $4. I turn back around to find that the entire contents of the shoe shelf in front of the stroller are now piled on the floor.

Boxes off shelves. Shoes out of boxes. Paper wads out of shoes. All on the floor in a magnificent mountain of shoe stuff.

I feel guilty leaving a huge mess on the floor, but with neither the time nor the patience to put all shoes back into their respective boxes, I just pile everything up on the bottom shelf. At least it’s off the floor, right?

(As for Runnin’ and I, we know that this is just job security for those Kohl’s employees. Back in the good ol’ college days, we’d make the midnight run to Wal-Mart, go on a mad shopping spree as we raced through the store grabbing everything in sight. “Oh, I want this! And this, and this, and this!” Then after our carts were overflowing with randomness, we’d park them at the McDonald’s in the back of the store and head home to the dorm. We thought it was hilarious. Some people might say inmature troublemakers. Au contraire. I call it safe, wholesome activity.)

I digress.

As I’m shoving boxes, papers, and mismatched shoes into the shelves, I turn to see that B#s 1-4 (and just those four only because the other two are shackled to the stroller) have gotten the workers’ shepherd’s hooks off the wall and are moving around the shirts on the really high hangers.

MM: Do you work here? You better put those clothes and put those hooks back on the wall. Right now.”

We get in line to pay. Of the six lanes, there is uh, yeah, one open for business. We stand behind Miss I’m-Buying-Out-the-Entire-Teeny-Bopper-Section.

B#6 is now awake and hungry. She fusses for 2.2 seconds and then is belting it out at the top of her lungs. “Give her the soothie,” I tell myself. I reach in to get the pacifier.

No pacifier.

From his front seat, B#5 turns around to grin at me. With a pacifier in his mouth. (Nope. Not his. He hasn’t used one since he was six months old.) I yank it out of his mouth… Pop it in mine… Pull it out and wipe it off with the burpy rag… Plug into baby’s mouth.

Doesn’t work. She’s still screaming. While I’m trying to quiet her (or at least give that appearance to my shopping neighbors, as I know it's a futile effort), I hear flutter-flutter-splat. B#5 has pulled the stack of gift cards out of the rack and spilled them all over the floor.

I start to move him farther away from the check-out counter, but the lane next to us is now open… and customers are in the way.

I reach down to scoop up all the gift cards and see that B#5 has shoved his foot in his mouth and is sucking on his big toe. With a doubly big grin on his face.

I am paying, and I hear the gleeful squeals of B#3 and B#4… and see that they have pulled all 503 stuffed animals off the shelves… those ones Kohl’s puts at the end of the counters for that impulse $5 buy. Albeit a worthy help-the-children cause, the placement of these toys is frustrating… kinda like kid-height candy racks in the grocery store check-out.

Far surpassing the magnificence of Mt. Shoe Boxes is Mt. Charity Toys.

MM: You put every single one of those back on the shelves. Right now.

“Why?” I ask, as we’re walking to the car. “Why did you pull all of those down? And why did you pile them up on the floor?”

B#3: Well, the elephants and the tigers were in a club together. But not the polar bears. They weren’t in the elephant and tiger club. Then the polar bears had to fight them. And, sooo-oo... they were all wrestling.

CSI: child staple incident

2008-08-26T20:28:00.001-07:00

Not even two minutes after my last post, I heard the wailing screams of Blessing #3. I heard his feet running through the kitchen. I heard B#2 say, “You’re bleeding!”

Yep, there was definitely blood. Lots of it.

That’s what those head wounds do- Spew blood. Spew large volumes of blood.

Apparently, being interrupted in conversation, a frustrated B#5 “accidentally” stabbed B#3 in the head with a pair of scissors. Big sharp ones. The “adult” scissors, as they’re known in our house.

It looked bad, especially with blood spraying all down his face, his hand grabbing his head, his clothes, his feet, the kitchen floor. The kitchen floor really looked like a terrible, messy crime scene.

I put lots of pressure on the gash, and the bleeding finally slowed. It was a bad cut, but I didn’t know if it needed stitches or not. I called the doctor and made another “emergency” visit (recall the recent bead-crammed-up-nostril incident) to have the triage nurse check it out. I was told on the phone that if it required stitches we’d have to go to the emergency room. I was hoping instead for the butterfly bandaid fix.

The nurse calls us back to take a look at it. She hasn’t even gotten her exam gloves all the way on when she says it most definitely needed stitches. I say, “A butterfly bandaid won’t work?”

Nope.

As I’m starting to prepare my mindset for the trip to the ER with all the kiddos in tow, she says she’s going to talk to the doctor about it.

The doctor comes to the exam room, takes a look and says that he thinks he can save me a trip to the ER. He attempts to “stitch” the wound closed with B#3’s own hair-- knotting together the hair from both sides of the gash which holds it closed and then super-gluing the knot, but the hair closer to the ear wasn’t quite long enough to cooperate.

But there was no trip to the ER. No stitches. No shaved head for stitches.

Instead we came home with a souvenir stapler… and a staple remover to get the staples out of his noggin in a couple weeks.

drumroll Another!

2008-08-26T09:54:00.000-07:00

Blessing #2 was in the newspaper this week-
surprised and excited to be in there like B#1 was!

Fortunately our family is in the paper for pleasant, happy, smiley events and not for terribly careless, embarrassing, frowny events... such as the unfortunate meeting of bumper and concrete block...

And the subsequent hiding of this Monkey Moma and Blessing #6 around the corner of the building while the monkey bus was stuck in the middle of the library parking lot (because such scenes do tend to create a sea of curious onlookers)...

While awaiting the arrival of the Monkey Daddy in his pick-up...

Who was, though out of complete necessity, illegally transporting five monkeys with him...

Because all carseats were, of course, in the bus...

Sure it's a five hundred-foot light pole. But, to my credit, it was hidden in that narrow little blind spot where the car frame goes between the driver's window and the windshield.

And it was in that little blind spot because I was ~~swerving to avoid hitting a young child~~ readjusting my course of driving after beginning to turn into a parking space that was occupied by an unseen motorcycle.

Sure I was only driving like 7.2 mph... but that didn't stop the fender from bending in to the tire.

Thus rendering the vehicle undriveable.
Thus rendering me STUCK.

So much for going to the library and the grocery store to browse and shop in peace with only one little booger by my side (the one little booger who would have slept through the entire trip). Oh no. No, instead I had to politely reply to the questions all the while internally grimacing at the fact that this did not happen in a remote and isolated parking lot, but smack dab in front of the library.

Where everyone coming goes in.

Where everyone inside looks out.

Where everyone leaving goes out.

And if a semi-abandoned Suburban at the entrance of the library didn't draw enough attention in itself, it only got more exciting when Monkey Daddy arrived with his crowbar and assortment of other big metal tools.

Metal tools on metal fender (and squealing monkeys inside the truck) make for really loud audio accompanyment to the apparently very interesting visual...

And encourage commenting.

You need any help?
Can I call someone?
Do you need me to call anyone?
Everything okay?
Is everything all right?
Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?
Glory me!
Heavens to sweet Betsy!
Oh dear!
What is this?
What has happened?
You want me to try that? I'm Icelandic and women from Iceland are very strong.

Alas, the fender was finally unbent off of the tire, and the troop made it home...

Sans any quiet, peaceful browsing and shopping for Monkey Moma.

My LaughterThoughts...

Cape, please.

Different strokes for different folks

Urban Chicken Farmer

twinkle toes

teacher appreciation week

Growth Spurt

Blessing #7... 15 months

Spelling Lesson

Smash & Grab Grab & Stash

A sign of the time

my happy clapper

dream on, kid;-)

Havin' it his way

Undercover Udder

kid-isms

Enjoying the moment

C.O.D.

Betcha can't!

First Day 8-31-10

Overheard

Make-up Marvels

grandmas

terra-cotta critters

lullabye

Swinging sensation!;)

Shevanigans

Hairdo Hair-Eww!

Dinner dialogue

Quoting Cleo

Pinnocchio has sticky pockets

Toad-ally makes sense...

Thug Mug Shot

*Ah-ha!* moments

1 month

Birthday Boy

Blessing #7

No Snow Gifts

B#3 turns 7

Little stinker artist

First Words

bag lady

gender lunches

First Day

funky monkeys

introducing...

Dimples

God's Pharmacy

Pool time

Beans and pickles

Head stapling... revisited

rockin' and a-rollin'

3rd grade concert

Ay-yi-yi!

Triple-Dog Dare Ya!

Overheard

Resurrection Sunday

Poisoning

Andale! Andale! Arriba! Arriba!

Grrrrrrr...

ka-boom!

An Engineer's Brain

Overheard... and a birthday, too

Idle hands...

choose your horse wisely

turkey tacos, anyone?

School Cool Boy

March comes in like a lion...

More homework

birthday blunders

Snack Time

Comic Relief...

Moma's Girl

Yay! It's cold again!

B#5 turns 3!

Career Day

Modesty

Say what?

Homework

Drivin' into 2009

Ah-ha! moments

drumroll Another!