You got a problem with it?

For Moms of Large Families:



My friend Cynthia posted this on her Facebook page. (She has six kids.) I laughed when I watched it. Living in Utah County, I don't get many comments on the size of my family. (Although the ages of my children--five in just under seven years--does cause comment, even in Happy Valley.) When we were in Durango in October, though, we definitely got comments, and not all of them were entirely polite. Whatever, though. I'm just providing for their happy retirement.

I told Cynthia we need to get a T-shirt:

So I designed one at Cafe Press. Too bad they cost $19.95 each, because I would TOTALLY get one, and wear it with pride.

Primary Program

Today was the best sacrament meeting of the entire year: The Primary Program!

There is nothing more adorable and diverting than watching 30-35 children, wriggling and squirming, sitting up on the stand. The littlest are too precious for words, and even the older kids (the ones just too cool for all this) are sweet and funny.

Zee has been so excited for this day to come--his part was the very first part of all. He did a great job reading, too--they added quite a bit to his part at the last minute, I think because someone else was absent. He ended up speaking for a good two minutes. (I've heard youth speakers with less to say!) Zee got to introduce the theme and everything. (I only have the part we practiced at home, not the extra.)

"For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth" Job 19:25. This year in Primary we have had the opportunity to learn of the great love that the Savior, Jesus Christ, has for us.

Gee was fairly excited, too. He has been eager to try "the big microphone" for ages. When the Primary President called the kids up to the stand, after the sacrament, Gee jumped up and was off. He then stopped short, turned around, and asked in a loud tone, "Where's the microphone, Daddy?" (Good thing his teacher was there to help him, or he would have headed up to the podium right then and usurped Zee's introduction.) When he finally had his turn at the mike, the congregation couldn't see him at all, he's so short. But they could definitely hear him:

Prophets are called by God. In the Book of Mormon we learn that Lehi was called to take his family to the promised land.

Afterward, he couldn't stop telling everyone about his "BIG" voice in the microphone, and how he said "Promised Land" SO LOUD. He was mighty proud of himself.

Em's turn came a little after Gee's. She got up, looking so much older with her new haircut, and seemed a little shy at first. But then she got into it, and by the time she was done with her part she was fairly beaming with excitement. She gave a little flourish at the end of her part that was so adorable I nearly busted with love:

In the Pearl of Great Price, we learn that Joseph Smith saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and was called to restore Christ's church on the earth. President Thomas S. Monson was called by God and is the prophet on the earth today.

(Of course, I was slightly less amused when she came down from the stand a few minutes later, "whispering" loudly, "I need to go potty, Momma!" She never needs to go during sacrament meeting, except for today. Of course.)

Gee didn't sing at all during the songs (no surprise there), and spent the entire time on his teacher's lap (bless her heart!). I teared up a little when they did the sign language for "As I Have Loved You", because he had his hands over his teacher's hands while she did the motions. It was sweet.

Em was in the far corner of the stand, so I couldn't really see her, but there were times I could definitely hear her. ("I KNOW he LIVES!") And Zee was hilarious during some of the songs. He really loved certain parts of them ("We are his DESCENDANTS in the LATTER DAYS!"), and because he was sitting in the front row of the stand seats, um, he was well-noticed.

Several people came up to us later to compliment us on our adorable children. One woman said, "I wonder if you think they are as hilarious as we all think they are?" I answered, "I usually wonder the opposite: Do you all find them as funny as we do?" I guess the answer is yes.

(Poor Hebs was a little under the weather today, so he slept on the pew next to me the whole time. (Daddy then took him and Mimi home for the rest of church.) As much as I wish he wasn't feeling sick, at least we were spared his reaction at being left behind while everyone else went up to the stand! )

Winter Lights

I love my little town. ("It's a quiet village/Everyday, like the one before..." Except Spanish Fork has fewer bad guys, and only the occasional beast.)

The Friday night after Thanksgiving is the annual Winter Lights Parade. It's smaller than the big summer parades, and has a much shorter route (both of which are a good idea, considering how cold it usually is Thanksgiving weekend), and (sadly) doesn't go past our house. But this year the ending area for the floats was just past our street, so most of the floats came past our front window anyway! Hooray! (And, sorry, Liz and family, for telling you that the parade wouldn't be visible from our house. Last year, it sure wasn't!)

So we got to stay warm, and cozy, and comfortable, and see all the floats and lights. Best of both worlds, baby. All four of the older kids were SO excited, but I think the little boys were the happiest.

Especially when the train came by, still sparking and tooting. Such joy.

Some of my favorite things

Happy Thanksgiving, world!

The Aftermath of the Great Blizzard of 2010

So, yes, my prediction about the blizzard being a fizzle was right on. Bummer! Something about Point of the Mountain forcing the storm downward and dropping all the snow and none coming to Utah County, or some such nonsense. All I know is that we got maybe an inch-plus, and less than 2 hours of blowing snow. Oh, well.

On the bright side, Bradley got a snow day today, unexpectedly. So we had a MARVELOUS day just bumming around the house. It is very cold outside, and our upstairs (with old brick outside walls) was colder than usual, but we just put on sweaters, cranked the heat a little, and played computer games, read books, refereed children, and really enjoyed the break. I made some delicious (if I do say so myself) chicken enchilada soup for lunch and dinner, and we didn't leave the house once. What a great holiday!

Much Ado About...Something?

I first experienced a snowstorm (at least in my conscious memory) at the age of 17. Growing up in the hot desert of Las Vegas doesn't afford many chances for snow, and since my mother detests the snow and cold with a fierce, burning passion, we didn't travel seeking it out, either. Much to my surprise, I found I really love snowstorms. Falling snow is very romantic weather.

Even though I was a complete snow novice when I first moved to Utah, I've lived here 15 years now. I'm getting somewhat experienced in the ways of snow, both falling and on the ground already. Plus, here in Utah, it is necessary to adopt a kind of indifferent attitude toward snow. We don't ever cancel school, for example. (Much to my dismay while I was at BYU. Seventeen inches in 18 hours doesn't merit a snow day? Really?) (Not that I needed a snow day, living on campus as I was at the time. But I really, really wanted one.) Generally speaking, our snowstorms disrupt traffic but little else. (Usually our snow falls straight down, of course. I realize that wind + snow is a different story.)

So I'm feeling somewhat alarmed about all the hoopla surrounding the blizzard that hit the Wasatch Front today. They've been warning us about it for about 36 hours now; quite dire warnings and serious language. This is a dangerous storm, we've been told. Utah County closed all its government offices at 2:30pm. BYU closed campus at 3pm. (This is big. BYU never, ever, EVER declares a snow day. And yet today and tomorrow, campus is closed.) Leave work early, they say, and NO unnecessary driving. If the power goes out, bundle up. Hole up in one room, close all the doors, stuff towels in the door cracks and over the windows. Expect snow-choked roads 15 minutes after the storm hits, and a drop in temperature of 15-20 degrees in about the same amount of time. (The storm did hit exactly when they said it would: Spanish Fork at seven pm. At 6:55 the house shook with the first gusts of wind. Pretty accurate.)

It's freaking me out a little, I'll admit. And getting me a little excited. I'm sorry to say that I don't have a coffee grinder to turn wheat grain into flour, but I do have wheat grain! (And a ton of canned goods, a freezer full of meats and other delectable items, and even some raspberry lemonade. So I think we're all good.)

But I have a feeling that tomorrow morning I wake up, see the sun shining on the three inches of snow, and wonder what the big deal was.

Apparently, Winter Has Arrived

Fortunately, today is the day the car is getting some work done. Instead of walking the kids up to school in 16 degree weather, it was somewhere around 30 degrees at 8am today.

Unfortunately, there was an ice storm last night, so it took us 25 minutes to walk 0.6 miles, a-slipping and a-sliding the whole way.

But at least we weren't frozen by the time we got home.

Substitution

For Christmas, my mother has me order books for the kids. I do this for the birthdays, too, because it is easier for me to keep track of what we have and want. We received our Christmas order today, with a bit of a problem.

Barnes and Noble messed up my order slightly. Instead of "Chicka Chicka 123", they sent that children's classic "The Quarterback Killer's Cookbook: A Bit of Bull, Plus Bear, Boar & Buffalo from Football's Best Big Game Hunter". As tempting as it is to give this wonderful book to my four-year-old on his birthday, or better yet, Christmas, my heart's kinda set on "Chicka Chicka 123".

Although the back cover blurbs are intriguing:

"Jared Allen, scourge of the backfield and offender of offensive linemen, is just as forceful and irreverent in the woods or kitchen as he is at teh line of scrimmage..."

"Try the pheasant nuggets with your next batch of sloppy does."

"...you should see him when he's tracking a spear-struck bull elk..."

Wow! Maybe I won't send it back.

The View Outside

I love the gorgeous autumn sunset outside, as seen through the park trees...

...but not as much, I must admit, as the view at my door.

Clobbered

Went to bed last night feeling fine. Woke up at 4am to feed the baby, feeling fine. Woke up at 7am feeling stiff and uncomfortable, and a little achy in the torso.

Now it is 3pm, and I'm fully sick. I'm thinking a flu bug, because of how fast it hit.

Lovely. Let's just hope none of the kids get it.

Parental Karma

Em's new haircut. (One of my eyes droops a little like that, too.)

So it turns out that my daughter Em is a lot like me.

Yesterday she was continuously complaining about an "owie" on her foot. After looking at it for approximately 0.002 seconds (before she snatched it away), I determined she had a splinter in her foot. It wasn't deep or infected, and would probably take less than 30 seconds to remove.

Right.

Em is really super sensitive to pain. (That's a delicate way of saying she's a big baby sometimes.) She never wears bandaids, because she can't abide me getting close enough to the "ouch" to put one on.

I told her that she could let me pull the splinter out, or she could stop whining about it. One of those two things would have to happen, however, because the complaining was making me want to poke my eardrums out. After another half-hour of dramatics, I pinned her down--at one point literally sitting on her--and pulled the splinter.

She didn't even feel it. I, however, felt every kick and punch she threw at me during the process.

Which leads me to an apology to my parents. I have a distinct memory of a similar event--a splinter in the foot, a girl determined to not let those tweezers anywhere near her, a dad pinning her down, a mom pulling the splinter out, and then the sheepish apology. It, too, didn't even hurt.

Sorry, Mema and Daddy. I guess what goes around comes around.

My Luxurious Day at the Spa

Okay, so it wasn't a day, it was two hours.

And it wasn't a spa, it was Fantastic Sam's Hair Salon for Families.

And it wasn't luxurious, because it was, see above, Fantastic Sam's.

But it was an adventure for my Em and me. Last week I started making noises about cutting Em's hair. It's always so fly-away and messy, even if I try to style it, and I was getting tired of worrying about it. Not to mention I was tired of watching Em push it out of her face every two minutes.

When I mentioned cutting bangs for her, my husband's eyes got big. "Bangs? Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Don't you think I'd do a good job?"

"Well...bangs are hard, you know..." he stammered.

"Hmph. Fine, then we'll both go to a salon to get our haircut!" I joked.

"That's a great idea."

Now, you have to understand something about me. I'm not one for frequent hair cuts. Traditionally, I get my haircut once a year, whether it needs it or not. So I don't have someone who is "my" stylist; in fact, I usually go to a new place every single time. It's not like they are going to remember me twelve months later anyway.

And I have unusually thick hair. (As in, crazy huge amounts of hair upon my head, not extra-thick individual strands. Did that make sense?) I have never, ever, EVER had a haircut without the stylist commenting, multiple times, about the thickness of my mane.

I have also never once had a haircut turn out the way I asked. I have been to expensive (well, expensive to me at least, +$50 haircuts) stylists, cheap stylists, student stylists, and I have never come out of a haircut thinking, "All right! That's exactly what I wanted!" Is this because I salon-hop? Is it because I have abnormal hair? Is it because I can't communicate my wishes?

Who knows?

Back to our story. My friend had recently received a nice haircut at the Fantastic Sam's in Springville, so Em and I decided to go there. We arrived about five minutes early, and spent the time looking at books of hairstyles--only Em didn't realize the point of the book, and kept commenting on the model's clothes. That's my girl!

Em went first, and I discussed what I wanted for her--about an inch below the earlobes, with bangs, no big deal. Em enjoyed the shampoo--no water in her eyes!--and was very good with the stylist. With her in good hands, it was time to get my hair done.

I explained what I wanted: I didn't like my old haircut, and was particularly annoyed with the unevenness of the layers. Please trim an inch off the bottoms, and then even up the layers. I want to grow my hair out, so please don't take too much off the bottom. Oh, and it has been more than a year since I last had it thinned, so that would be nice, too.

TWO HOURS LATER, I am looking at my finished hair in the mirror, and thinking, "What is it about "no uneven layers" did you not understand?" I realized she had given me a very popular style of cut, but wildly uneven layers were something I explicitly asked to avoid. By now, though, Em has been done with her cut for 90 minutes, and is bored out of her gourd. (I forgot to mention that with great hair comes great amounts of time in the stylist's chair. I don't think I have ever had a haircut last less than one hour, and usually we're in the 90-120 minute range.)

So I smiled, paid our bill, left a nice tip, and left.

And sighed. I'm over crying about bad haircuts. Usually once I have a chance to play with it myself, I can find a good style I can live with.

But I'm not ready to put up a picture yet.

P.S. But I will get one of Em. She is adorable, and looks very much like Ramona Quimbly, Age 8. Or perhaps Matilda, in the movie. Very very cute. And she loves her new hairstyle very much.

Life's Tough

Just now:

Em, in bed: Mom, I'm hungry!
Me, in bed, despite it being only 8:15pm: That's nice.
Em: Aren't you going to say, "Life's tough?"

Forgetfulness, part two of infinity

Update on the forgetfulness symptoms: Zee went to school without his lunch today, because I totally forgot to make it. I make his lunch every single morning, so I have NO idea why today was any different. But there I was, making muffins in the kitchen, when I noticed his lunchbox, empty, on the counter. Brilliant.

It's the second day in a row I've had to take something up to school for Zee. Yesterday he managed to walk all the way up to school without Daddy, Em, or Zee himself noticing that he didn't have his backpack. And I walked past his backpack, sitting forlornly on the couch, at least four times without noticing. It wasn't until Zee walked into his classroom and went to take off his backpack that he noticed it wasn't there.

Maybe it is catching.

(P.S. Our car is fixed, hooray! It was just a bad battery, which was (thankfully) still under warranty. We only had to pay for the tow and the time to figure the battery out. Thank goodness, because between the broken dishwasher and intermittent garbage disposal, I was beginning to think everything in our house going to break. Including our bank account.)

Is there something I can do with you?

...or did you just feel like waking me up with that flash for fun?

A Series of Vaguely Irritating Events

First off, just to get it out of the way, what is up with my memory? In times past, I was quite proud of my memory. Effortlessly I could remember when and where events would take place, appointments were only added to my online calendar just in case, and I rarely completely forgot about some task or event. (Case in point: Here is where I just took a break from writing this post and called to make an appointment that I have been forgetting about for three weeks.) Fortunately, usually I remember in the nick of time. (Example: My Relief Society lesson on Sunday.) It is more an annoyance than anything serious, but it is frustrating.

So, yesterday I took several hours and planned our meals for the next four weeks (I know!), and went through the cupboards and refrigerator/freezer, and wrote up a comprehensive list of things to buy. I even have a little section called "Week 1 Perishables", "Week 2 Perishables", etc. This morning, after dropping the older kids off at school, I went to the store for the Major Monthly Shopping Trip.

Halfway through my list, I realized that I had forgotten I would babysit my friend's kids. Starting in twenty minutes. (See item one.) So I ran through the rest of the store, throwing things into my cart, zipping through the line, and throwing the groceries into the back of the van. With five minutes to spare, I clicked Hebs and Mimi into their car seats, jumped into the driver's seat, and turned the key.

Click-click-click-click-click.

In disbelief (wasn't this the same car I had successfully started twice already that morning?), I tried again and again. The lights were working, the electric sliding doors worked without a hitch...but the car wouldn't start.

Frantically, I reached into my little purse for the phone to call my friend...only my phone wasn't there. Of course. Some little hands must have carried it off somewhere. (To my bedroom floor, it turns out.)

And I didn't have any coins. (Even if the store had a payphone.)

And it started to snow.

I'm not ashamed to admit I cried a little.

And then I pulled myself together, told myself to act like a grown-up, unbuckled the kids, walked back to the store, used the store's phone to call my friend and my auto mechanic, arranged for a tow truck and a ride home, retrieved the frozen and refrigerated goods from the van, waited for the mechanic's "shuttle" (I love love LOVE my local mechanic. Yay Skibas!), and finally arrived home, a little cold and a little cranky.

And now I don't have the ingredients for dinner tonight. Looks like scrambled eggs, all around!

Laughter

Today was a Grumpy Momma Day. This kind of day inevitably leads to Grumpy Kids Day, because the cliche "Ain't Nobody Happy if Momma Ain't Happy" is freakishly accurate. Maybe because it was Fast Sunday, maybe because of the return of Daylight Standard Time, maybe just because...but, wow, was today a rough day.

The older kids were hard enough, but Mimi decided to join in with the cranky. She would be perfectly fine, and then BOOM! she would be super sad and/or angry. This made the three hours of church rather interesting, and somewhat less-than-spiritual.

But.

Something wonderful happened. I was bouncing Mimi and singing to her while sitting on the sofa outside the bishop's office. And, as I was balancing her in a standing position, singing "Twinkle Twinkle", she laughed. She chuckled, giggled, chortled. It was so incredibly adorable. There were a few people around me, and I looked up and said, "Did she just laugh?" And it was agreed that, indeed, she was laughing. And she kept doing it off and on, for at least another minute.

Mimi started smiling very early (less than four weeks), and now she's laughing at just shy of 3 months. This baby has a lot of happiness bottled up inside!

Hebs in the Woods

Electricity and the Seven Year Old

Well, my son, you are now seven. It's high time for you to start earning your keep.

No more freeloading off Mom and Dad anymore, my boy. Time to start learning a trade.*

No, child, I don't want to trade something with you. I'm talking about learning a trade. A profession. A career.

Electricians are always in demand, son. What do you say to learning how to be an electrician?

Great! To help you on your way, I have purchased these training materials. See, it is the Snap Circuits Jr. SC-100 kit.** It will teach you all about electricity and...and..electrons and stuff. After you complete all 100 projects in that book, I'm sure you'll know everything there is to know about electricity.

When you're done, son, we're having a little trouble with the GFCI outlet in the kitchen. You know, the one that runs the dishwasher and the garbage disposal, as well as the microwave?*** Could you get that fixed for me?
_________________________
*Don't worry, I'm really not apprenticing out my son. Yet.

**This is the COOLEST birthday present ever. Seriously, if you have seven to ten year old child, I wholeheartedly recommend Snap Circuits. They have a ton of kits, and all of them look amazingly fun. Zee has played for hours with the basic -100 kit. Total birthday success.

***This, unfortunately, is true. Our dishwasher has a major leak, which is directly above the motor, and therefore shorting out the circuit every time we turn it on. We have ordered a new dishwasher, hooray and boo, but by the time it gets here it will have been 13 days sans dishwasher. Oh, the humanity.****

****"Oh, the humanity!" is from the Hindenburg disaster newsreel. Trivia tidbit for the day, no extra charge.

I love Election Day

I adore politics, but I'm not going to tell you what I think about everything. I don't generally like it when my non-political blogs run into the political, so I'm not taking mine into today. If you want to know what I think, go here.

My credit card is compromised, or something. My bank called today and asked about some fraudulent-looking claims, totaling almost $200. Yay for vigilant banks. Boo for criminals. And boo that I don't have a debit card now for 7-14 business days while they send me a new one.

I got to volunteer today for Em's class. Her teacher is really fun and really good at dealing with these crazy kindergartners.

We ordered a new dishwasher last night. It's very exciting, except not really, because who wants to spend $300+ on replacing a kitchen appliance?

Lucky Number Seven

Once upon a time, there was a cute little baby with a big, toothless smile.

He loved the piano...

...and he especially loved the computer.

The little baby grew up to a cute little boy, and his toothless smile became tooth-ful. And it was still adorable.

That little boy kept growing, and he still loved computers and the piano, but added books to his interests:

And the cute little tooth-ful smile became toothless once again, as my little boy turned big.

Happy seventh birthday, Zee. I love you very, very much.