Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Busy Girl


This is what I saw on my way downstairs this morning. 


Gwen was busy.

Sadly, I don’t have any more pictures from today.  It’s sad because we had a fun day where I was in awe of Gwen and her quirky little personality. 

We went shopping. 

I found an old receipt on the fridge for 15% off of kids clothing at Sears.  It expires on September 1.  While temperatures almost reached 90 degrees today, a good 20 degree increase over yesterday’s temps, I know it won’t last forever.  Gwen needs new pants and she is in desperate need of new socks.  So I suppressed my agoraphobic anxiety to take Gwen shopping. 

Gwen was born all girl.  It makes me believe in nature more than nurture because she is who she is.  A girly girl and I love it!  This is a girl who is happiest in dresses playing with cars and trains.  And she loves shopping.  Lucky for Heath I don’t love shopping or his wallet would be in a world of hurt. 

After we dropped off Parker, Gwen and I headed to the mall.  I should have searched for the song “Shopping” by the Bare Naked Ladies so we could listen on our way but I didn’t. 

I realized halfway there that I forgot to put the stroller back in the van.  Gwen is getting much better at staying focused while she walks so I’ve been letting her walk more.  I figured she could handle the mall without a stroller in the early afternoon of a random Tuesday.  I told her I forgot the stroller and that meant she would have to hold my hand and listen to me.  She agreed, pleased with the increased responsibility I was trusting her with. 

We took the elevator up to the third floor of Sears.  She was so stoked.  Then we wandered around for a minute trying to find where the hey they display her size.  She is the age of a toddler but she’s tall enough for 4T clothes which are the biggest toddler size and the smallest girl size.  I finally found some clearance racks that seemed to have enough bigger toddler sizes to choose from. 

The 4T clothes seemed way too big.  So I grabbed everything in 3T wondering if I was crazy since she was too tall for the 3T jeans she wore last winter.  Then we went into the dressing room. 

You had to be there for the dressing room experience.  She was so funny.  She was so excited to try on clothes so she was very patient as I helped her get into the pants.  Before I could finish pulling them up all the way, much less straightening them out, she was across the handicapped dressing room and in front of the mirror. 

Gwen:  These fit me Mommy! 
Me:  Come here.  Let me see if they're long enough.

She never came.  No, she was too busy admiring herself in the mirror.  Bill Engvall played in my mind over and over especially the line, “You better be looking for the price tag!”  Is it an innate girl thing to try on a pair of pants and turn in that sexy awkward way to check out your own butt?  That’s what my two year old was doing!  If only I had my camera.  At one point she was kissing her reflection!  She cracks me up so easily I can’t even tell her not to do disgusting things. 

Well, the 3T pants fit but a little too perfectly.  You know the length where you have to wonder if they will suddenly transform into floods after one washing.  The length where parents know if those pants are bought today they will not fit in two months.  I replaced everything with 4T pants while Gwen made friends with all the mannequins.  She also ran around gasping and exulting over everything.

Gwen:  I want that butterfly!  Ooh, I like that pirate doggy.  Argh!  He’s mad.  See?  Wook!  Mickey Mouse!  Where’s TeeBoBo?  Pretty dress.  I want that pretty dress. 

It was hard not to laugh at her.  She was beyond thrilled to be alone with her mommy in a store full of clothes and underwear.  I felt like Mommy of the Year today.  Until Parker yelled at me for making him wait a whole two minutes to pick him up.  Apparently Gwen walks too slow so I need to leave to pick up the boys sooner. 

Anyway, Gwen was a great shopping companion.  We tried everything on in the 4T size and I was much happier with the length.  She refused to wear her own clothes because she wanted me to put the Elmo shirt back on.  And when I asked which pair of pants she wanted in addition to the pants that came with the Elmo shirt it took her a minute to realize Elmo was a given. 

She fondled all the underwear while I picked out some socks.  Then we were ready to make a major purchase.  I hoped Heath would be ok with what I got for her.  I think he’ll be fine since two pair of jeans, a long sleeved Elmo shirt, and 10 pair of socks totaled less than $30.  Sales prices plus 15% off and I scored big time. 

I am so not a bargain shopper.  I’m a get in, get exactly what is on the list without looking at choices, and get out as soon as possible person.  So when I save money it’s kind of a big deal!   

Gwen really wanted to take the escalator down.  That was an adventure!  I managed to get her on after she hesitated and my legs were in the splits for a brief second.  But we made it safely down both escalators to the ground floor. 

I wanted to leave.  With every part of me I wanted to leave.  But Mother of the Year stuck around for a while longer while I asked if she wanted to walk around.  We wandered for a bit before she found the sitting areas with the beads for the kids to play with. 


You know, one of these things. 

Gwen played to her hearts content and I sat in a chair enjoying watching her and knowing she’s my little girl. 

We spent almost two hours at the mall just hanging out together.  Finally it was time to go home.  Saying we had to pick up the boys soon was the only thing that dragged her away from the table of beads. 

Once we got home she brought me scissors (so scary when she gets a hold of stuff like that!) and insisted I cut the tags off her socks.  She picked a pair of pink and white socks that look almost like little dancing shoes that lace up the ankle with a real bow in the back.  Then we got the boys. 

I am so loving having Gwen all to myself for a few hours every day.  I was nervous at first since I have not had one kid since before Parker was born.  But it has been a blast so far.  Who knew that shopping could be so fun? 

Monday, August 30, 2010

What’s in your lunch?

As a consumer, what do you expect to receive in return for your payment?  If you pay for medication do you expect full strength or is ok if the medication is watered down with actual water?  Speaking of water, do you really think that bottle is full of natural spring water or is it tap water? 

Let’s say you pay the school to feed your child.  Stop laughing.  Heath and I are products of a public education and we both ate school lunch.  Or hot lunch as they used to call it because in the 80’s it was actually hot food like spaghetti or roast beef sandwiches au jus. 

Now school lunch is nothing more than expensive snacks.  I’m not kidding.  Would you pay $3 for mozzarella sticks/marinara sauce, a piece of fruit, and a milk carton?  How about $3.25 any school day but Wednesday when apparently the food is laced with gold because the cost shoots up to $3.75?

I’m not making this up.  This is what Gavin’s school lunch costs.  The last two years we paid $3 a day or $30 every two weeks, with a week being a regular 5 day school week.  This year I decided that I could save myself $60 a month by sending a lunch from home.  It was worth trying it out anyway.  Then I got the email from the school stating the increase in lunch costs this year. 

I just have to ask, where is that money going to?  The office party pool?  How much could each lunch actually cost?  I could take him to In & Out Burgers near his school for about the same price!

I don’t think his school even has a cafeteria.  I could be wrong but I think they just set up tables in the murpose purpose room.  Oh how I miss the days when Gavin called it that!  Other than a few food choices it’s not like anything needs to be kept hot in an oven or cold in a refrigerator. 

Friends of mine with multiple children in the school system say they don’t buy school lunch because it’s too expensive.  I’m starting to agree.  The thought of paying close to $8 a day for Gavin and Parker next year is too rich for my ghetto latchkey kid blood. 

A friend of mine in Utah recently talked about whether or not she should buy school lunch for her daughter as well as her son.  The issue was over the fact that her daughter is Type 1 diabetic and nothing to do with price.  I have it on good authority that lunches in Washington are a little more than a dollar for teachers.  Teachers always pay a few cents more for lunch than students.  Because their staggering salary easily accommodates the cost of an extra scoop of this or that. 

So now I’m sending Gavin to school with an ice pack, designed to keep bottled breast milk cool, in his lunch bag hoping he doesn’t die of salmonella poisoning from warm mayo and lunch meat.  He hates peanut butter sandwiches but has agreed to eat them occasionally. 

I talked to his teacher about sending peanut butter because last year a friend of mine was chewed out for sending a peanut butter sandwich with one of her kids to another school.  I realize some kids have severe nut allergies but I don’t know the rules about sending my non allergic child to school with a sandwich I worry less about making him sick than meat and cheese.  She said the kids with allergies sit at designated tables.  If they have indoor lunch on those days when it is pouring rain (the kids eat outside every day) then the kids with severe enough allergies sit outside in the hall.  So peanut butter is ok. 

But then what about carrots?  Do baby carrots need to stay refrigerated?  You know a stupid bag of chips is starting to sound really tempting right now.  What do granola parents send to school with their kids?  No, I’m actually asking.  Leave me a comment like “Hey Piquant Storyteller!  You’re not a nice person (I will delete your comment if you use naughty words) for calling me granola!  But this is what I send to school with my kid and they are healthy as can be so go kiss a cow!”

Do you remember the Sally Struthers commercials that told you how affordable it was to keep a third world child fed and in good health?  I wonder if those prices have increased too and by how much in the last 20 some odd years. 

Friday, August 27, 2010

More Say What

I may as well post this one too!  The last two conversations happened today. 

Parker:  Is that a taxi or just a yellow car?
Me:  It’s a yellow sports car.
Gavin:  A sports car?  Cars don’t play sports!

Gwen:  You God and I a princess!
Me:  I’m God?  Is that what you said?
Gwen:  Yes.  You God and I a princess.

Parker:  Mom, I hate to tell you this . . .
Me:  That doesn’t sound good.  What do you need to tell me that you hate to tell me?
P:  My friend didn’t share with me again today.  I telled Ms. K.
M:  What did she say?
P:  That she would take someone out.
M:  She was going to take someone out?  What does that mean?
P:  A time out.
M:  Oh.

Prayer Say What

These are a couple months old.  Sometimes I forget I have Say What posts in progress on my netbook.  I think they’re still funny even after a battle of wills tonight with all the kids.  Enjoy.

Parker saying the night family prayer:
P: Please bless that we can have a good day
Gwen: dood day
P: Please bless that Gwen can be quiet when I say the prayer today
G: prayer
Gwen is Parker’s shadow and he is not always flattered.

Speaking of prayers, my kids have perfect faith in a loving Heavenly Father and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Parker let Buzz Lightyear try flying off the railing.  Buzz, of course, is not a flying toy despite what Parker believes.  Buzz came out of the accident relatively unscathed all except his wing, which was broken.  Parker patiently waited for his dad to perform magic with super glue.  When that didn’t work Parker asked for a miracle.  He prayed that Buzz could be fixed.  Then he put Buzz on the floor in the middle of the room so Heavenly Father could fix him while Parker slept.  I tried to tell Parker that Heavenly Father always answers our prayers but sometimes we don’t get what we want.  Parker was unphased. 

Parker:  Jesus Christ can fix him.  I know He can.
The next day the wings came up like they were supposed to and Parker was thrilled.  Then the errant wing fell down since it’s a problem with the internal spring. 
Parker:  It’s fixed!  Oh wait.  No it’s not.  Oh well.
And he moved on.  His faith was not shattered although I questioned the strength of mine for a brief moment. 

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Nobody Told Me

Nobody told me that life with a 4 year old, 2 year old, and a collicky infant suffering from acid reflux was the easy part! 

Ages 7, 5, and 2 are much more difficult.

I can only imagine it gets harder and harder before it gets easier. 

Maybe 27, 25, and 22 will be easier ages. 

But I doubt it.

Nobody told me that late nights and sporadic naps with a baby would repeat itself later in my 2 year old. 

She’s running on manipulation now. 

Nobody told me that everything would take longer and feel harder when the world assumes I know what I’m doing because my kids are older now. 

Nobody told me that self sufficient children suddenly forget how to do everything when they know I’m in a hurry. 

Nobody told me that stress breeds more stress and that Diet Coke in my fridge will only give me a heart attack if I drink it. 

Somebody told me, I’m sure, but I wasn’t listening. 

Nobody told me that my house would be cleaner with atomic orange baby food spit up constantly spewing out of my baby than it is now that everyone can feed themselves. 

Clean houses are overrated right?

Nobody told me that I would retreat to an office with invisible walls several times a day just to catch my breath. 

Nobody told me that my kids would hug each other every day.

Nobody told me that my little girl would ask where her boys are when she misses her brothers at school. 

Nobody told me she would hold my hand and be my best friend for three hours every afternoon. 

Nobody told me that my kids would spontaneously decide to brush their teeth one morning without being asked and brush their sister’s teeth for the metaphoric cherry on top. 

Nobody told me how much hearing a tiny voice say, “Mommy I love you!” would melt my heart. 

Which is why I’m telling you.

Even then you won’t understand it until you experience it for yourself. 

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

First Day Jitters

With a heavy heart we say goodbye to summer. 

Fall was in the air until this week.  It has been an unseasonably cool August until now.  No surprise that this is also the week that school starts.  It always feels hotter when school starts.  Happy first day of school kids.  Highs will reach 105.  (And did.)

Besides the weather, the mood has also changed around here.  Summer is basically over with the beginning of school.  The kids have been more on edge.  It’s obvious how excited yet nervous they have been for several days now.  The anticipation has been killing them. 


We got the kids new backpacks and shoes a week or so ago.  They were so excited to try everything out when we got home. 

Gwen-back-to-school Back-to-School-2010-020 Back-to-School-2010-022 Playing XBox with Dad

Gwen insisted on wearing her new shoes too and her jacket.  Any time you say the word school she automatically says, “I want a princess backpack!”  She thinks she’s in kindergarten too. 

There were some tears when I told the kids that they could not wear their shoes or use their backpacks until school started.  I remember getting new stuff for school when I was a kid.  It was so exciting.  But at the same time I always felt like the new clothes and whatnot were my consolation prize.  As if my parents were buying me off in a way.  “If you just go to school you can have new things!” 

As the first day got closer the jitters got stronger.  Last night Gavin was groaning that he had wasted his summer.  I reminded him that he didn’t.  Funny how it always feels that way.  There is never enough time to do all the nothing we want.  The video serves as a reminder of all the fun we had this summer. 


Yesterday was Parker’s first day of school.  Sort of.  The school has a practice kindergarten day where the parents are expected to stay with their child for a 30 minute deal in the classroom.  It was interesting this time around. 

With Gavin it was rules rules rules.  Everything was given the utmost importance and everything was talked about as if it meant the difference between life and death.  With Parker, his teacher talked to the parents for about 30 seconds and then turned the kids loose to explore the room and play.  Minimal instructions. 

So minimal that most of the kids clung to their parents and stared around clueless on what to do.  Too many choices and not enough guidance.  I figured there was a method to her perceived madness. 

I don’t know this woman.  She has been teaching longer than I’ve been alive.  I know.  Another one.  I have to stay optimistic.  It’s kindergarten, how bad could it be?  I try not to laugh since it only makes me cry!  I’m scared.  I don’t want the kids to know but I am.  Regular parental fears but also that paranoia that we will repeat another bad year.  I have to believe it will all be ok. 

Last night Heath gave the boys each a priesthood blessing, a special blessing from Heavenly Father given through the power of the priesthood to help guide them through the year.  Gwen was very reverent for each one.  Then stood up and said, “My turn!  My turn!”  Heath didn’t even flinch.  He let her sit down and he put his hands on her head while I wondered what he would say.  Then he said, “Gwenny, you are adorable.  I love you lots and lots.  Amen.”  She was so proud.  It wasn’t given in the authority of anything or in the name of anyone so it wasn’t real but she was happy. 

After the kids were in bed Heath gave me a priesthood blessing as well.  Everything will be ok.  I’m grateful that I am married to a man who has the priesthood and is worthy to use it. 


This morning went well.  Gavin was nervous all morning until we started driving.  Then he dug deep and pulled out this enthusiasm I wasn’t expecting.  Good for him.  That’s how I live my life sometimes.  I fake it until I make it. 

Hundreds of people were milling around making it virtually impossible to find Gavin’s line.  But we were prepared for that.  We finally found his line (they should number the lines in numerical order!) when I saw my next door neighbor.  I was excited to find out her daughter is in Gavin’s class. 

We got a little lost going to the classroom because several lines started moving at once.  It wasn’t really lines moving as much as a mass exodus of people!  We walked around the B building but couldn’t see the classroom so we walked inside and found it that way.  It’s right across the hall from the room he was in last year.  The teacher helped him find his seat. 

I looked around and felt at peace with the number of familiar faces.  Kids from kindergarten, kids from first grade, our neighbor, parents I saw every day last year walking with their kids.  Gavin is going to have a great year.  I roll my eyes that the other Gavin W is in the same class as my Gavin W!  They lived through kindergarten that way.  They can do it again.  His parents are really nice. 

Parker was much more confident today than he was yesterday.  We said our goodbyes at the door but the teacher invited the parents in for a minute.  Then we said goodbye again and left.  He’s fine.  I know he is.  He’s Parker.  


Gwen’s been my pal and special helper all afternoon as I’ve cleaned the house.  She still wants to go to school and she misses her brothers but she is adjusting better than I thought she would.  Another little sister, Gwen’s age, was very upset to have to say goodbye to her brother.  That family is in the stake.  We don’t know each other but we’ve seen each other around at different stake activities.  We were pretty excited to see each other yesterday.  My kids don’t need to have another Mormon in their class but it is comforting to know someone else believes the same way we do. 

Here’s to a successful year. 

A Letter

Dear Elementary School,


Two of my children are now in your care.  Please take care of them.  Please teach them and return them to me as enthusiastic about life as they are pictured here. 


Loving Mom

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Our Santa Cruz Adventure

What an adventure it was too!  I totally expected to be gone for three hours tops round trip.  I also expected to post some pictures and be like, yeah so we went to the beach.  No biggie.  Well that didn’t happen.  We’re Westovers! 

The best part of the whole adventure was that we found two beaches to play at for FREE!  That was unexpected and awesome. 

Heath was following Google Maps instructions to get to Natural Bridges State Beach which was taking us the long way.  There were people walking or riding bikes all over the place and there were parking spots along the side of the road.  So Heath pulled into an empty one and got out to explore. 

He didn’t find any fee signs or fee boxes so we unloaded kids and toys and went for it. 

Adventure Number One:

We soon found out it was a dog friendly beach.  Ha ha.  The steps down to the beach were steep.  I think all beach steps are because that was how it was in San Diego.  If you remember our first San Diego beach adventure I was four months pregnant and carrying a 2 year old sleeping deadweight Parker up the hundreds of steep stairs only to walk some more back to the hotel.  Fun times! 

Anyway, all of us had our heads down staring at our feet going down the stairs.  I was aware of people behind Gwen and me.  They were calling their unleashed dog trying to get it to stay close to them.  The dog was ready to pass Gwen and me on the stairs in its excitement to get to the beach.  So I called out to Parker who was several steps down from me. 

Parker:  What?
Me:  There’s a dog coming by you.  You’re fine.

Gwen takes this particular moment to notice for the first time that a large Airedale looking dog was standing right next to her.  As Parker sees the dog he gets visibly nervous and Gwen started screaming.  She cried and was shaking the rest of the way down the steps to the beach!  Two of the three kids were losing their minds with all the unleashed dogs.  Heath found a piece of beach to put the towels out.  

Santa-Cruz-Adventure-003 Santa-Cruz-Adventure-004 Santa-Cruz-Adventure-027
Gavin could not have been happier.  Give that boy some sand with sand toys and he is a happy camper.  His little sand castle lasted until a dog peed on it!  If you’re not laughing at all of this you should be because I am! 

Meanwhile Parker was afraid to step off the towels. 

Santa-Cruz-Adventure-005  Santa-Cruz-Adventure-017 Santa-Cruz-Adventure-019 Santa-Cruz-Adventure-020
Gwen may worship Parker and therefore has an irrational fear of dogs because of him but she was brave enough to have fun at the beach. 

Santa-Cruz-Adventure-012 Santa-Cruz-Adventure-013 Santa-Cruz-Adventure-023
Parker made sure the towels didn’t blow away in the wind.  Wow Parker.  Don’t hurt yourself making that sand castle. 

For about an hour I turned and stood rotisserie style hoping for some more melanin in my skin.  I have to say, I’m annoyed that for all the time I was outside in full sun I have nothing to show for it!  Stupid sunscreen.  If I skipped it I would have burned because apparently as an adult I burn easily when I never did before even with baby oil slathered on me!  So I tried to be responsible and put sunscreen on and now I have nothing to show for my trip to the beach. 

As soon as we got to the beach I was well aware of the fact that there was no restroom.  I noticed not only because I’m a mom of small children with small bladders but because I had to go.  But I have a bladder of steel.  I can hold my Diet Coke if I have to.  It’s a gift that I can be up to my eyeballs in desperation to go but I will make myself forget if going is inconvenient.  I know, I pick really odd things to brag about. 

After about an hour Parker announced that he needed to use the bathroom.  I was hoping he could just go behind some rocks but there was no good cover for that.  Plus, Heath said we shouldn’t let him do that.  Something about how it’s illegal.  I said, “He’s five!”  My arguments never win and since Parker has not inherited my bladder of steel – Gavin has – we packed it all up. 

Adventure Number Two:

Heath did some fancy driving and found a crowded rest stop.  So crowded in fact that he dumped me and the boys before finding a parking spot.  Seeing the glistening oasis of a restroom in the sun reminded me I had to go halfway into the drive to Santa Cruz.  My mind was pretty excited to finally have the opportunity to go. 

I ushered the boys into the women’s restroom so I could relieve myself as well.  Gavin skipped off to the stall furthest back.  The handicapped stall.  His hand touched the door to open it and my eyes saw something on the floor.  Completely taken off guard I breathed out something to the effect of Holy (ahem) Hannah.  If you saw a snake slithering around on the bathroom floor right next to your firstborn you wouldn’t have G rated speech either! 

Everything happened at once.  Parker grabbed my hand tighter and started screaming Mommy!  Gavin looked down, gasped, and gave me a helpless look like how do I get back to you?  I’m not sure his feet touched the ground he ran so fast.  Some lady walked into the restroom at the same time we all noticed the snake and I had finished saying, “I don’t need to go!” 

We attempted nonchalance and probably failed as we walked around to the men’s side.  I told the boys in my patented I’m freaked out so don’t make it worse voice, “Wait for each other and come out together.  Hurry up.”  They disappeared inside.  Parker immediately walked out saying that there were “only two bathrooms.  There’s a big man in one and Gavin is just in the other.” 

The lady from the other side came up then and asked how many stalls there were.  I told her two and that they were occupied.  She said she would go at home and she speed walked to her car.  The man walked out, then Gavin, and Parker walked in.  Heath and Gwen walked over to us and the boys were tripping over their tongues trying to tell their dad about the scary snake in the bathroom.  I announced again that I was good.  I didn’t need to go. 

It was maybe 4:00 and since we didn’t want to call it a day just yet we drove around for a few minutes until we found another free beach.  No dogs.  More space.  A few less people. 

As soon as we got off the steps Gwen ditched her flip flops!  I carried them until we found the perfect spot close to the water.  Everyone seemed more relaxed at this beach. 

Santa-Cruz-Adventure-055 Santa-Cruz-Adventure-089 Santa-Cruz-Adventure-070
My flip flops came off and many more pictures were taken.  Including my favorite pictures. 

I am very bugged that Heath and I don’t have any good pictures together.  We really don’t have hardly any pictures together at all.  So I held out the camera and got this:

I haven’t stopped laughing about it yet.  I’m so glad I could forget to fix the zoom on the camera so I could get a really great shot of Heath’s nose! 

That’s a little better but I cut off his head.  He’s too tall.  I didn’t know where to hold the camera! 

Adventure Number Three:

The kids were having fun playing in the sand and even walking to the water.  Parker even walked to the water.  I was so proud of him.  After the ocean tried to swallow him up on Heath’s birthday about a year ago he has not been a fan of the beach much less the water. 

I had to make a video of it since there are so many pictures and video.  I will warn you, there is one part where you are more than welcome to laugh.  It may seem scary at first but go ahead and crack up as if this was AFV.  No naughty words were said from me and everyone was fine.  But it is too funny that this same scenario keeps playing out every time we go to a beach. 
Parker had a great reaction to it.  I tried to put captions in the video of the classic things he said.  That kid is too funny. 

Everyone was hungry so we decided to head out for some dinner.  Good thing because the sun had done its magic on my blood sugar and I was 38.  All five of us walked into the A&W one seater family style restroom together to wash hands.  I chose not to use the facilities other than washing my hands in the boiling hot water.  We never could find any cold water!  We ate dinner and I still chose not to take a minute to use the restroom.  I just wanted to get kids home and into bed.  I refilled my Diet Pepsi (ugh Pepsi products) before heading home.  I had successfully held it from 1:30 to 8:30 pm!  Yay me!  I know.  Odd thing to brag about. 

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Twenty minutes before we got home Gwen finally gave up the fight and gave in to sleep. 

Judging by the women at both beaches the rules have changed regarding bikinis.  Apparently a woman does not need to have the perfect body in order to wear a two piece string bikini.  Heath kept telling me I looked better than most of the women there.  And I believed him.  For a minute.  At least until we got home and I put on my two piece tankini to shower the sand off Gwen before putting her in the tub.   

I love that Gavin was the one who suggested the title of this post.  He said, “You should blog about this Mom.  You could be like Our Santa Cruz Adventure.”  So there you have it.  It was adventurous and so much fun.  Great A1C followed by fun with my family.  It really was one of the best days ever.

Monday, August 23, 2010

In the words of Sponge Bob Squarepants:


Translation for those of you who are having trouble reading it backwards:

Today is the Best Day Ever!

I love this picture.  I love how positive Sponge Bob is and how happy he is.  I love that the blanket was painstakingly attached to the door.  Backwards.  Oops.  This is my favorite saying on good diabetes days and so this is my favorite diabetes picture.  Like diabetes, the backwards blanket is what it is.  And that makes me smile. 

This morning the sun came out at 7:00 am.  That has not happened at all in the last month.  We’re pushing 90 degrees now.  Ah, summer. 

I had a panic attack last night that resumed this morning but I drove anyway to see my endocrinologist and find out that my A1C is 6.7!!!!  Do you know what that means?  That means my A1C has dropped five points in three months.  My last A1C was 7.2 and now it’s 6.7! (it’s recommended that diabetics have an A1C below 7 to reduce the risk of complications)  I have been floating ever since. 

The plan is to go to the beach.  It was always the plan for the day.  I figured we could either celebrate or commiserate my results that I knew would be good.  So celebrate it is.  And now it’s going to be lovely at the beach.  No fog at all.  Not even at Half Moon Bay, which I don’t think we’ll go to.  I like Santa Cruz better. 

The long term plan is to keep on keeping on.  If I can bring my A1C down from a 7.2 to a 6.7 in three short months I can do anything.  My goal is to have my blood sugar average be in the 120 range by November when I go back.  I don’t know what the A1C for that would be but a 6.7 translates to a 144 average. 

Dream big.  Work hard.  And always remember that this is the best day ever. 

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Post it Note from Heaven

Somehow somewhere I had run over a screwdriver bit.  It wedged itself in my back tire at an angle and air was escaping at an alarmingly fast rate.  The escaping air was loud.  It almost sounded like a water spicket turned on full blast. 

A man waited for me at the end of my driveway to tell me he thought I had a flat tire because he heard a clunking sound as I drove past him.  After he had left I went back out to check the tire.  The air was almost completely out by then.  Then I saw it.  The rusted metal screwdriver bit. 

I pulled it out and felt sick.  This wasn’t just a flat tire.  When the man said flat tire the boys said, “Get the pump!  Quick!”  The rushing air was kind of a dead give away that it was more than your standard flat tire.  But the offending object sealed the deal. 

All I could think was how lucky I was to have found out after I pulled into my driveway and parked in the garage.  It could have been so much worse.  I could have been anywhere with the kids in the van and had the whole tire blow out on me. 

It was one of those post it notes from heaven.  I once heard someone describe the little everyday miracles of life as a post it note from Heavenly Father saying “I love you.”  I like the analogy. 

When Heath was finally able to leave work and come home he was about to put the spare tire on and take the van to Les Schwab Tires.  He said they patch holes for free.  I was so relieved to hear that.  I wasn’t feeling guilty.  It’s a fact of life that anyone can hit a road hazard when they least expect it.  But buying a new tire was not what I planned on doing that day. 

He looked in the trunk of the van and decided to just call OnStar.  We pay for it and they can come change the tire.  That way Heath wouldn’t have to put the trunk all back together later.  He chose the lazy way out.  Another post it note from heaven. 

OnStar came after being caught in rush hour traffic from San Francisco and changed it to a dorky spare tire.  They said we would have to replace the tire because it was getting really worn out.  Heath showed me what they meant after they left.  We will have to replace both back tires.  That’s life.  But looking at that tire was sobering. 

We realized the van could have flipped.  Or had hundreds of dollars worth of damage as one of us drove down the freeway.  Who knows?  Heath said we could have all been in the van somewhere and something awful happened and we could have died.  I have to admit, I thought so what?  We would all be dead together!

Most people wouldn’t consider getting a screwdriver bit stuck in their tire a blessing but we do.  The timing was a blessing.  Given how quickly the air rushed out of the tire, I had to have hit the object very near home.  The good Samaritan runner that waited for me to get out to tell me was a blessing.  It all is a huge blessing. 

A great big yellow post it note from my Heavenly Father reminding me that He loves me and hasn’t forgotten me. 

Thursday, August 19, 2010

The thousandth time is the charm

This is my one thousandth post.  That’s right.  In a little over three years I have posted one thousand times.  Sheesh!  I talk a lot.  I’ve thought about what to post on such a monumental day.  After all, this is a big deal right?  So in honor of this momentous occasion I will tell a shocking story.  

I think I’m having an affair.

Now I don’t want to hear, “But Tristan!  You and Heath seem so happy together.  I never saw this coming.  What?  You’re having an affair?  And blogging about it?  Are you stupid?”

I think I’m having an affair with Julio’s little brother, Steven.  For those of you who don’t know, Julio is my Wii trainer.  He’s a racially ambiguous cartoon who looks nothing like a Julio but it’s an inside joke so that’s his name. 

Yesterday I started a 6 week challenge on the Wii’s EA Sports Active More Workouts.  Trust me, that’s really the name.  Anyway, I transferred my profile from the original game to this new game.  This is the first I realized my name is NameTrist.  How did I not get that before?  I look different.  More voluptuous in the hip area which is not me at all and my hair looks weird.  I chose the male trainer over the female one partly because she’s so mean on the other game but mostly because Julio and I seem to get along so well. 

He looks different.  A little taller and leaner, definitely darker, and the jury is still out on the more handsome.  Racial ambiguity is much less ambiguous as this cartoon trainer can only be described as an African American Steven.  

I’m not racially prejudiced in case you were wondering.  I just miss Julio.  My hot cartoon trainer whose abs can be seen rippling under his T-shirt.  Julio sounds like Jack Black and likes to say I’m doing awesome.  Steven sounds sort of the same but not really.  More like a younger brother voice.  And I have yet to hear him say awesome in that Jack Black sort of way.  He says esteem questioning things like, “Good effort on that exercise.”  No exclamation point.  Just good effort.  Hope your legs grow together. 

It has only been two days.  I don’t know why I’m so worried.  I just hope Julio isn’t jealous that I’m writhing around on the floor in front of his little brother . . . in Hawaii no less.  Don’t get the wrong idea about the “writhing.”  Steven makes me do a lot of things on the floor.  Warm up and cool down stretches, ab work, push ups that must be more for his entertainment than anything meaningful for my muscles.  He also tells me to take off my Wii-mote and the nunchuck for the warm up and cool down stretches.  That’s a little weird.  Especially when the calorie burn counter keeps counting.  How does he know I’m not just taking a nap? 

Of course I may as well be with how poorly my Mii responds to what I actually am doing.  She just stands there with this deer in the headlights expression as if she can’t believe her good fortune of working out with Steven in Hawaii.  It’s embarrassing. 

Today I went water skiing.  That was the most supportive and complimentary Steven has been so far.  Hmm . . .

I think this affair is getting out of hand.  I need to talk to Julio.  Maybe I should just switch to the female trainer.  But I don’t like her.  She’s full of herself.  Actually I don’t know if the new female trainer is full of herself.  That’s probably just me being catty. 

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Aw Poop!

The events unfolded something like this

Parker:  Why do I always have to poop?
Me:  I don’t know.
P:  I poop every day!
M:  That’s good.  That means you’re normal.

He stopped looking so uncomfortable and went back to playing.

M:  Do you have to poop now?
P:  No.
M:  Ok, if you have to poop just go.
P:  Ok.

A while later the toilet flushed.  Out came Parker. 

P:  Mom, I washed my bum but there’s just poop water.
M:  What?
P:  Come see.

I thought maybe he used too much toilet paper and the toilet was clogged.  No.  There was diarrhea juice spots all over the bathroom floor. 

M:  This happened when you went into the bathroom?
P:  Yes.  This is not a good day. 

After one dose of Children’s Pepto Bismol he has been fine for the last several hours.  Whatever it was it’s gone now.  But I had to preserve the conversation because it was too cute. 

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Sixth Sense: The Bogeyman Works for the Power Company

(photo courtesy of abc home preschool)

Everyone is aware of the five senses. Some people have less than five working senses while some people have an extra sense, or a sixth sense if you will. For some it’s seeing dead people for others it’s something completely different like knowing when it’s raining. You know, you look out the window!

My sixth sense is a hyper awareness of the bogeyman.

But the bogeyman isn’t real? Is that what you said? No he’s real alright. And he lives in my head. At least when I feel most vulnerable. He knows everything about me. He is an expert stalker. He knows when my man will be out of town on business and that’s when he strikes. He’s afraid of my man. But single white female in a house full of kids = instant victim.

I do everything I can to not tip him off. I try not to give detailed information that could easily lead him to my house. I think he knows anyway. I never announce that Heath will be on a business trip. I wait until he comes home before sharing my latest brush with my crazy lunatic stalker Bogeyman.

Some may call the interesting coincidences in my life Murphy’s Law. Not me. They are the work of the bogeyman. I’m sure of it. Do you know what he did yesterday? He killed the power for eleven hours. I’m not making this up. Let me share the story and you tell me if it doesn’t have bogeyman written all over it.

My sixth sense was tingling so I wasn’t sleeping really well. My eyes opened at 3:00 am. The alarm clock confirmed the time. Drat! I couldn’t remember when Heath said he was waking up so I tried to go back to sleep. Approximately 45 minutes later I heard his cell phone bing bonging to wake him up. He walked into the bathroom only to walk right back out.

“The power is out,” he announced.
I sat straight up in bed, “What!”

Bogeyman? I think so. The bogeyman knows I’m a keystroke off crazy when the power is out. He also knows how wound up I get when Heath has to go out of town. I am convinced a police officer will contact me to identify my husband’s body smeared all over wherever. Cutting the power was brilliant on the bogeyman’s part.

Heath found a maglite, which would have to do since he didn’t have enough time to find a lantern. It was shower time. Monday morning shower time would happen in the dark.

I laid in bed not sleeping but feeling sorry for my poor husband who had to be up so early showering in the dark, getting ready in the dark including putting contacts in his eyes in the dark, and hoping to look halfway decent for a meeting with a client in a few hours. My worrying was so effective. It totally solved the problem. (Why is there no sarcasm font?)

Well, so Heath was ready to go. The maglite lit the way down the stairs. The garage door was manually opened and outside we saw something very strange indeed. From our house to the left nobody had power. No street lamps on. Nothing. Heath saw that out the bathroom window. But to the right there was power. Our next door neighbors had the carriage lights on their garage on. Street lamps were on, etc. A van slowly came around the corner tossing newspapers. The driver had to pull out a flashlight to see house numbers for half the neighborhood. Weird job, Bogeyman.

So Heath found an old power bill to report the outage. Not surprisingly this was the first that PG&E had heard of the issue. Not a lot of people are up and in need of electricity at 4:00 am.

We hugged and kissed our goodbyes and he left. My heart fell. I missed him already plus I could feel a panic attack coming on. Stupid bogeyman! I tried to rationalize with myself. What’s the big deal? PG&E would fix the problem and life would move on. Go. to. sleep. But I couldn’t. I had to pray first.

My heart had only begun to resume a normal pace when the phone rang. Assuming it was Heath I answered. I couldn’t imagine who else needed to call me at 4:45 am.

A PG&E representative. aka The Bogeyman

Rep: Is your power completely out?
Me: Yes.
R: It’s all dark and nothing works?
M: Yes.
R: You can have power restored in a matter of seconds if you go outside and flip the main breaker.
M: What?
R: If you go outside I can talk you through it. Can you tell me when you get to the box?
M: No, I’m not on a cell phone. I’m using a phone that plugs into the wall. What do you want me to do?
R: Oh. Just go outside and find the round meter. There should be a box under it. Open it up and find the switch that says Main. Flip the switch all the way off then back on. I’ll wait on the line.
M: Ok. Hold on.

This seemed strange to me but at that hour no human being should be alert for I couldn’t figure out what was so strange about the request. Until I got outside. There are a few boxes under the meter. Two say phone on them. Not a single one open. And why should they? If I have easy access to the main breaker for my electricity wouldn’t any yahoo off the street (like the bogeyman) be able to cut my power at will?

M: There are a couple boxes and none of them open.
R: I was hoping you could just flip the switch so I don’t have to go out there. It will take me about 45 minutes before I can get there.
M: I’m sorry I can’t figure it out. Could you just come out? It’s not like we’re up or anything.
R: Yeah that’s fine but it will take me a little while to get there. You just go back to bed.

The phone call ended and I hung up. My sixth sense was shouting at me and doing an Irish jig to get my attention. Something was not right. First of all, half the neighborhood was black but I assumed Johnny Danger power rep knew that. Heath had reported it which I assume is why some PG&E rep was freakin calling me at 4:45 am whining that he didn’t want to drive out to my house to investigate! I called Heath who told me the guy must be an idiot!

My bed stared at me. But I couldn’t get back in before pacing the floor concocting some scenario of a random PG&E guy climbing into my open bedroom window and I didn’t know the rest of the bizarre story. The bogeyman was either stealing my children or coming to bludgeon me in my sleep. I just knew it. My sixth sense doesn’t lie.

So I closed and locked every window. The house was cold anyway. I double checked every door and window downstairs knowing full well they are always locked. Then I locked the deadbolt between the laundry room and the garage. Just in case.

My dreams felt real as if I wasn’t actually sleeping at all. I tried to test the reality of each one as I dreamed. They all seemed to make perfect sense although now I realize how weird and unrealistic they all were. I was so tired and unrested.

I heard the click of things coming back to life as power was restored. Immediately I reached out to my alarm clock. If I hit the snooze button the light comes back on. Only it didn’t. I squinted up at the TV to see if the LED light was on at the bottom of the screen. No. Sixth sense confused, I attempted sleep again.

The kids and I were up for the day by 7:20. No reason to be awake but we were. It took a minute for them to adjust to the idea that there was no power. Then they were just upset they couldn’t play on the computer.

In the light of day, however cloudy and foggy it was, I was feeling more rational. But why did I know exactly when Johnny Danger flipped the breaker yet nothing was on? I’m telling you, this guy was the bogeyman or they were best friends or something. Something wasn’t right.

I called PG&E to ask what gives. A cheery prerecorded voice told me she was already aware of the outage in my area and that she expected power to be restored at 8:30. Heath called me when he landed about 8:40. But there was no power. So I called the company again. The cheery prerecorded voice had been updated and said power was expected to be restored at 1:00 pm. Once Gavin got over the fact that it should have been restored already he accepted 1:00 as if it was law.

We moved on with our day. When I finished showering in the dark, which by the way is not as bad as you would think but not nearly as fun either, I checked the phone for missed messages from Heath. There was no dial tone. There was nothing. The phone was dead.

The isolation was oppressing and I could almost hear the bogeyman chuckling at my bad fortune. Not only was my cell phone out of battery but we have dropped my service because I never use it. We meant to start a new pay as you go service but haven’t done it yet. I couldn’t email Heath because there was no Internet service. I was pretty sure we no longer had minutes with OnStar. Silence was suffocating to me.

PG&E trucks were concentrated around the corner. Road Work Ahead signs and traffic cones sat in the street. Prerecorded cheery voice girl wasn’t kidding when she said the outage was due to an equipment failure. Initially I thought that’s what they say when they don’t know what to say. But this was shaping up to be a pretty big deal.

Not being able to breathe from a fear of being completely cut off from the world, I ran next door. Before I could play it cool I asked my neighbor if I could make a long distance phone call (Heath’s cell number is a San Francisco number). My voice caught at the end as I almost shouted, “I’m afraid the bogeyman is out to get me!” but I refrained.

My neighbor started to dash for his house but stopped and said, “We don’t have power or phone service either. I can get my cell phone.” This was the house I mentioned earlier that had carriage lights on in the middle of the night. A jumble of emotions flooded me. Relief that I wasn’t the only one. Then embarrassment for being so openly dramatic about it all. I didn’t know phone lines could go dead during a power outage. We talked for a minute about how Heath had left that morning for a client meeting in Austin. I told him that’s why I knew our power had been out since 3:something am.

I may have served questionable milk for lunch. I made an effort to keep the fridge shut as much as possible but the fact that we had five and a half gallons of milk in there after a Saturday trip to Costco was haunting me. The milk was still cold. Just more like the temperature when you drink milk outside for a picnic.

The bogeyman is probably annoyed that he didn’t end up poisoning us with rotten milk. The power came back on around 2:30 pm. I couldn’t bear the thought of throwing any food out. What a waste of money. PG&E doesn’t care about spoiled food until the power outage has lasted for at least 24 hours.

What did I do? I still made my traditional breakfast for dinner. I was so grateful I didn’t have to manually open the garage to take my kids to McDonald’s for dinner. They didn’t know that was my plan if the power never came back on. I used to crave McDonald’s after Gwen was born but now I can’t believe that ever happened! Well, the eggs were fluffy and delicious. And the milk we drank tasted fine.

Ok, so my sixth sense isn’t always right. But ha ha you didn’t win this time Bogeyman! It still made for a strange day. Heath is home now thoroughly exhausted from the effort it took to make a two hour meeting with the client in Austin.

Monday, August 16, 2010


There is nothing more satisfying than creativity.  Creativity is what drives people.  It’s a way of making work beautiful and meaningful.  It’s how people play. 

Watching children engage in creative play is so refreshing and inspiring.  Have you ever witnessed children’s creative play?  It’s like being a fly on the wall of a magical world. 

Perhaps the most amazing part is watching siblings interact with perfect stranger siblings.  Creativity starts out a little slow.  After a minute or two it picks up quickly as the kids all riff off of each other’s ideas building the scene more. 

Spectators aren’t even sure of the storyline but soon become transfixed by the magic of it all.  Firefighters, a fire house, a regular house, fire monsters and safe zones in the shade.  Something about crossing a desert where all four kids ran across the volleyball sand pit.  At one point the kids used their fingers as squirt guns to put out the flames launched at them by the fire monsters. 

They turned the wheel on the toddler play structure to start the hourglasses of soap/stars and beads.  Apparently this meant they had exactly eleven minutes to get out.  Seven year olds are still working on a meaningful concept of time.  The eight year old was the leader and would yell to her team to get out quickly.  The five year old would rush out ahead of the others then climb back up the ladder screaming, “Hurry!  It’s going to explode!”  The three year old mostly repeated everything everyone said and ran alongside them all. 

In the middle of all the fire and running around until they were flushed and sweaty, a tiny pixie world existed.  Underneath the toddler play structure were three little girls; a 12-15 month old and a pair of two year olds.  One two year old was a stranger to the other girls.  Not a lot was said out loud but the telepathic communication was obvious.  The girls ducked under the spider web of poles supporting the play structure.  They walked around in circles doing that for a good quarter of an hour.  The game was that fun for them. 

Eventually kids had to go home.  The pixie girls barely said audible goodbyes but they sweetly waved.  The 12-15 month old blew kisses.  Moms said courteous goodbyes and the two year old ran back to sneak in another wave to the two year old in the stroller.  In a matter of seconds the newfound friends were gone. 

Mom came to pick up Grandma and the eight and three year old along with their baby brother.  Enthusiastic goodbyes were said.  Moms exchanged pleasantries as comfortable with each other as the kids had been in the beginning.  “Maybe we’ll see you here again!” was more than just a nice thing to say.  General directions were given regarding where everyone lived.  “We just live over there” with vague pointing and “We’re on the other side of the park.”  School names were mentioned but the kids went to different schools. 

They left.  The fire scene bled back into reality.  Suddenly the playground was just a playground again.  And oh so lonely.  Maybe they’ll find each other again.  They are kindred spirits after all. 

If not, the memories will live on forever in the hearts of participants and flies on the wall alike.  What a blessing creativity gave everyone that day.

Friday, August 13, 2010

August 13 = Blame Someone Else Day

This rant is brought to you by this day, August 13, also known as Blame Someone Else Day.  Who are you blaming and why?

Money does not solve the world’s problems.  Nor does it buy happiness.  Sometimes money doesn’t buy much of anything. 

It’s interesting to me to see the economic recession adults are all painfully aware of.  What I find most interesting is how everyone knows that nobody has any money yet somehow the cost of everything continues to go up just to exacerbate the problem further.  Like charging people fees for using debit cards!  Because that makes sense. 

So does paying $300 for someone else’s mistake!  But we did.  Don’t think we’re stupid.  There’s a whole story here that I don’t understand half the details of to explain properly.  We’re out $300 and life is unfair more often than not. 

You know what else makes total sense?  Paying $45 to get Parker completely immunized.  That makes absolute sense.  I’m not angry about that nor am I angry that I will probably lose $30 of that credit in January.  I don’t know that but I wouldn’t be surprised if I do.  I’m also not irritated that I paid today’s copayment in cash and the receptionist didn’t even offer me a receipt and I didn’t even think to ask.  So I have no proof of payment. 

When I went to the school to show them the up to date immunization card the office was closed and would be for the next hour.  I wasn’t going back.  It does not take four people (me and my three kids) to convince the school to allow Parker to attend in eleven days.  I mailed a copy of the card.  The gas saved and the cost of the stamp balance each other out right?  I never thought I would hate having two kids with summer birthdays but today I did. 

I’m just holding my breath for the school to send me another letter stating in bold capital letters that Parker cannot attend because the medical form they accepted in the spring from his 4 year well child checkup is out of date and I should have had the doctor fill out another one but I didn’t because they told me I didn’t have to.  Wow.  Nice paragraph long sentence! 

I’m not annoyed.  Not me.  I’m not trying with every bit of what little self control I have to not give in to my favorite sins.  I’m also very ok with the fact that I have to wake up early tomorrow and go to the hospital again to get my blood drawn.  Going to the hospital three days in a row is what every normal person does right?  Am I pregnant?  No.  Just a diabetic mother. 

When my OB/GYN asked me yesterday if I was still happy with my tubal ligation I told her yes.  And when I jokingly asked her why I still have to deal with everything else that comes with being a woman, she told me she could emblazon the lining in my uterus.  She talked straight out of a horror movie by saying if they char it really well I may never bleed again.  No thank you, I said.  My periods aren’t that bad.  Annoying but not that bad! 

And that’s today’s lesson I suppose.  I may be in a really rotten mood but it’s not that bad.  Nothing is ever as bad as we think “except death, and even then I’m sure God negotiates.”  (quote from the movie Ever After)

Wednesday, August 11, 2010


garbage-day,-park-pics-017 garbage-day,-park-pics-016 (forgive the old pictures used to illustrate this story)

Onlooking moms and children were impressed with the confident toddler.  She marched through the sand without hesitation and straight up the long set of steps.  She slid down like a pro.  All smiles and cheers at her success. 

Then the moment.  

It was one of those moments where you just know nothing good will come of it.  Maybe it was the cool and breezy conditions.  Maybe it was the overcast skies.  More likely it was the fact that my two year old decided to go down the slide on her belly.  Feet first, thank heavens.  I can only imagine what would have happened if she went head first on her tummy! 

I watched her slide faster than she thought she would in her new position.  I tried to watch her face but it was inches off the slide for the entire thrilling ride.  She did try to look behind her toward the end. 

The next thing any of us knew she had caught air only to land unceremoniously in the mud with a big splat!  My muddy baby picked herself up and cried. 

I think it’s worth noting that I tried to comfort her without picking her up – something I would normally do!  Why?  Because I’m vain and she was covered in muddy sand.  The boys were very concerned about their sister.  What could they do to ease the pain of the moment?  They stroked her back and repeated my words.  “It’s ok.” 

Promising to clean her up at the van was comfort enough for the torrential sobs to subside into regular cries.  We gathered what little dignity we had left and walked back to the van.  Half an hour to get everyone ready to go, eleven minutes to drive to the park, three trips down the slide, my baby was slimed, and I wasn’t sure if I could convince her to stay any longer!  Good times. 

The boys went into overprotective mode with comments like
Parker:  I hope those big kids just leave because they just teached Gwen to go down the slide that way.
Gavin:  Was that scary Gwen?  I’m sorry you were scared.

Only she wasn’t scared and nobody made her do anything!  She chose to go down a hello long slide that way all on her own.  She was just mad that she was dirty.  She is my daughter – irrational vanity and everything. 

I cleaned up her skin the best I could with baby wipes.  There was no hope for the clothes.  I wiped out the inside of her flip flops but the ribbon and flowers were going to have to stay muddy.  Gwen threw another fit when I told her to put her shoes back on.  She would point angrily at the flowers and screech that they were dirty.  Yep, that’s my girl.  Life is all about looking good.

Somehow I convinced her to be ok with the indignity of it all.  The boys went back to the long slide while Gwen climbed around the play structure.  But she refused to go down any slides.  Soon she was sitting on the curb surrounding the play area pouting.  Why didn’t I think to bring my camera? 

Eventually she dried and got over her poutiness.  We finished out the time I had planned on us being at the park.  Right as I was about to gather up the kids, Gavin ran over to me with muddy sand all over his face.  Apparently he had face planted somehow.  I just laughed.  The whole experience was too funny and I couldn’t believe I didn’t have my camera. 

slimed-012 slimed-014 slimed-015 slimed-016

At home I tried to get pictures. 
BYU shirt – slimed
cute capris – slimed
cheap flip flops I spent 20 minutes decorating – slimed
Mommy band aid – slimed (Gwen was very upset about that!)
But the pictures didn’t turn out so well.  She had dried completely so it wasn’t quite the same as when she was dripping.  And it’s pretty obvious that she had gotten over it. 

By the way, the clothes came out clean but the flip flops look the same.  Who knew they would survive the washing machine (gentle cycle) but not look any cleaner?  If Gwen gives me a hard time about the dirty flowers I can always replace them and the ribbon too if needs be. 

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Arbitrary Photo Say What

This was tweeted today:
LOL! RT @wellreadhostess: My 8 y. O. son just said to granddad "you combed your hair! Looks like picture day in the nursing home."

The hilarity with kids never ends does it? At least not around our house. Here’s another Say What installment. These conversations go on all day. I hope the silly quotes never end.


I turned around to see the TV behind me.
Gavin: Mom you have eyes in the back of your head, remember?


Gavin: This is a homework assignment for a 16 year old. It’s a fill in the blank. I am blank . . . 16 years old. Next year I will be in blank . . . 5th grade.


Parker: What happens when you’re zero?
Me: Nothing.
Parker: You just go back in your mom’s tummy? And there’s all this blood and Jesus is in there and He’s making people.


Gavin: Parker, you’re not a firefighter! You’re just a human!


Heath: Gavin, do you want any ice cream?
Gavin: No! Brain cancer remember?
He meant brain freeze.

Taken out of context Say What:
Gavin: Parker! Mom says I’m not a Barbie doll because I don’t change my clothes a thousand times a day!


Pinocchio Say What:
Parker: We didn’t chew on the alien.
Me: Who did?
P: It was just our friend. You know, the raccoon. We just leaved the alien outside and the raccoon chewed it.

Don’t ask Say What:
Gavin: Mom, I have a sweep. (broom)
Me: Why do you have a broom in your bed?
Gavin: Because Parker wanted to sweep the ceiling.

Heath: Ok boys. Put my pajamas on and read me a story.
Parker: You’re joking, right? You’re just joking.


Gwen was not a fan of the movie “How to Eat Fried Worms.” She had her hands on her face with a horrified expression. She kept trying to pull her head further back while screaming: Danger! Danger!


Gwen: You coming Grandma?
Me: What are you doing Little Miss?
Gwen: Shopping.
Me: With Grandma?
Gwen: Yes.
Me: What are you shopping for? Shoes?
Gwen: Yes.
Me: What are you shopping for now?
Gwen: Grandma.
Me: Your two grandmas aren’t good enough so you have to shop for a new one?
Gwen: Yes.


Gwen: A fire truck! (To her every truck is a fire truck - garbage truck, delivery truck, semi truck, etc.)