Sunday, October 28, 2007

Bottoms Up!

I was in the living room quietly doing some peaceful activity, like sleeping, when I heard that familiar sound of feet slipping down stairs. Reed had slipped down the stairs and was crying and angry with the stairs for their impertinence. How dare a stair do such a malicious thing? I came to the rescue with a hug and some comforting words.

Isn't it funny how the words of comfort often come by sharing our own painful experiences with the new victim? I told him how I had slipped down the stairs 4 times in our new house, thus the reason we installed carpet and padding on our stairs. I further informed him that if you're going to slip on the stairs that the best place to land is on your bottom because it is the squishiest part of your body. I then gave him another hug and looked over at Douglas who had been carefully paying attention to this lesson on how best to fall down stairs. He reached back and verified in a rather surprised voice, "it really is the squishiest part!"

I sometimes worry that my kids won't just take my word for something. They must test it. Feeling one's backside for squishiness is probably harmless, but if one has to know for sure if wet toilet paper will stick to the bathroom ceiling, this empirical form of learning could become problematical. At least curious people keep on learning and it is the job of observant parents to make sure that the curious child is guided and carefully watched. I wonder how much it would cost to install cameras throughout our house?


All ready for the ward's Trunk or treat party


Isaac participating in fine arts involved with Halloween


Here we have two amphibians named Isaac, very cute!

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

A Glimps into the Stone Age

Reed Douglas and Isaac just before mommy gives up and puts them down for the night.
That thing they're looking at on the ground is me by the way. "What's wrong with her? Her eyes are crossed and she has steam coming out of her ears? Cool!"

I picked up the boys from school today and ,at first, we met with the carefree joy found in a child after a day of learning. As we started to walk to the car I mentioned that we needed to hurry as we were on our way to the doctor's office for shots. Wow, if ever there was a dramatic turn of events, this was it. Reed even had a slight teary look in his eyes. I suppose to relieve his worry he decided to race Douglas to the car. Douglas made it first and of course did the "I won" dance followed by that most hated song, you know, the na-na-na-na-naaaaa! I think that tune, like salsa, can cause an instant release of acid from my stomach causing an intense reminder of the ulcer in my esophagus. It's also like one of those modern pieces that make you wonder if the composer just grabbed a few guys off the street to hold an instrument and try to play. The only thing that makes me doubt that is that they all seem to know how to hold their instruments. But, that is the first thing they teach you in band or orchestra.


Anyway, Reed was pretty disturbed by this verbal act of Douglas' "rubbing it in". In fact so much that I had to run at full speed with Isaac in arm to stop Reed from repeatedly hitting his brother on the back. Douglas didn't seem at all effected as I think his prideful glow of having won the race must have deflected the blows. Also, that "na-na" song may have some strengthening power, like how Superman gets his power from the sun, Douglas gets it from the song. Just a theory.


After the usual threat of time outs and getting everyone in their seats the mood of the car, and our drive, turned somewhat reflective and contemplative. They kept reassuring me and themselves that it won't hurt too bad and that they would be brave. After that reassurance we somehow got to the subject of housing. I really don't know how kids minds work sometimes. Douglas asked me if our house was old. I said kind of, as it was built in 1968. He then asked if I was born back then and I said that I was born a bit later. Then he asked "did they have tools back then?" What?! Did he think I grew up in the Iron, Bronze, or wooden hammer age? More and more, as my kids get older and begin to contemplate time, I am realizing that I am being seen as a relic. As a kid I remember talking about the "olden days" and of course my parents had a place in them, sorry mom and dad. This is a new stage in my life and experience as a mom. Who needs wrinkles to feel old? Just talk about the "olden days" with your kids. Even throw a handcart in there if needed to spice up the impact. What really made me laugh is when he asked if we had TVs back then and then if we had them in our cars. That was another dating factor in the "how-old-is-mommy?" study. They may start looking for tree rings on my legs and unfortunately I think they'd find them.


To make a long story short, they survived their shots, got stickers, and then got an ice cream cone at MacDonalds for bravery. Mommy recovered with a cold diet coke and a very large Ibuprofrine ( I don't know how to spell that last word and neither does Mr. Spell Czech). Now they are all in bed sound asleep and I am up late accomplishing things like I used to do in the olden days, also known as the Prekidulous Era.


Pictures from the boys field trip to Cook Farms


We're off to see the pumpkins in the wonderful land of Patch...


"Check out this 'olden days' tractor'!"


"Now, mom, don't you know the primary purpose of couch cushions? Dominoes anyone?"


Monday, October 15, 2007

Dump Truck 2.0

"Read you me!"


Isn't that so sweet, reading to brothers, ahhhh...


Piggy Back ride, or horsey back ride, what do they call these? I just know that one of them came up to me afterward and wanted me to be "the pig", hmm.


This particular book has been read more than any other book in our house. It is called My Big Truck Book. You can imagine the plot, yes very intense, riveting, even bulldozing at times, zzzzzz.... We actually just had to replace this book because it was destroyed by an overzealous diaper. A certain young man likes to sleep on top of books, particularly any book with a truck in it. Tonight I convinced him that it would be better to sleep on his blue bear.


We noticed with the book replacement that we had gotten a new edition. There are still several pictures with different types of big trucks and what they are called. But to our surpise the "dump truck" as it was formally known, had been changed to "tipper truck"(kind of like the artist formally known as Prince, or whatever that symbol was). Chris has started referring to this new book as "My Big Truck Book 2.0". Computer guys see all things in "something.point.something". But the point is that this book is probably also read by people who know the proper names of these machines and have complained enough that the 2.0 version had to be published.



Thursday, October 4, 2007

Days of Thunder, vvvrrrrrooooommmmm!


Thursdays…well I can't say much about them, but this one has been weird. In German the word for Thursday is Donnerstag, day of thunder. Isn't there a movie called "Days of Thunder" with Tom Cruise? They could have saved on ink by calling it "Thursday." I think it was about cars and coincidentally so was my Thursday.

It started this morning when I wanted to go walking at a park that you have to drive to. Right as I was about to leave our parking lot, I noticed that the paving machine was right in front of the exit. They've been redoing our road all summer it seems. The workers saw me coming and I rolled down my window and asked if I should just go back and wait. The steam was still coming off of the asphalt and I figured it was not a good idea to cross. The guy I talked to said I could go if I didn't turn my wheels at all. I asked if he was sure and he said I could go.

Well, I proceeded past the workers in a very straight manner. My windows were rolled down and as I left the asphalt I heard great exclamations of ticked-off-ed-ness, some of which I cannot quote for all of our dainty ears might burn. I looked into my rear view mirror while still driving very "strait" and noticed the 3 inch grooves, two of them in fact, and very straight being left by my apparently very heavy tires. Instead of stopping and being very apologetic, I sheepishly drove off in my very sinful Kia Sedona. Beside the sin of destroying the road, it's also a sin to drive a foreign car in Michigan. I'm surprised I didn't get tar flung at my car, like how PETA throws blood on people wearing fur coats. ( By the way, where does PETA get that blood, some poor animal perhaps? Or maybe Mr. Vick? Apparently he is now attending a class for animal abusers, just like those Hollywood drunks who clear their names by going to AA or rehab. I guess that's how penance works in the church of fame).

I made it to the park and managed to "walk off" the road destroyer guilt. Don't "they" say that exercise is a good way of getting rid of guilt, or maybe that's something else? Now I was just embarrassed. After my walk I tried to run every errand I could think of to give them time to finish, but I noticed they weren't done when I got home so I cowardly parked in a lot behind our building and walked home. I'm so weird.

The road has successfully been repaired, well...minus a little dent that the roller dude couldn't get rid of. Chris took a picture of it for me and called it "Becky's dents". At first I thought he said Becky's dense, hmmm...the truth comes out. I guess someone had to say it.

I guess I've left my mark on Michigan.

On a side note, if you happen to stop to wash and vacuum your car to take up time while avoiding going home, you should make sure that while you are vacuuming not to get the hose nozzle too close to the Kleanex box, because it will take all of them, one by one in a rather fast and successive order. Just a thought.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

"Feed the Birds..."


"...Feed the birds, tupins a bag, tupins, tupins, tupins a bag." It's a good thing Jane and Michael didn't witness what the boys were checking out in the middle of our parking lot. Chris took these pictures, after which I'm sure he encouraged them to stop playing with the dead bird and to sanitize their hands with bleach. Road kill, as my friend Jeannette remarked in her blog, is certainly more prevalent this time of year. When we lived in Utah the road dish of choice was usually skunk a'la stink and Racoon with a spoon. Here in Michigan it's Squirrel in a Swirl, mmmm… The swirl helps it to go down smoother.


I am so thankful for archaic bird prodding instruments.


Christmas 2017- The Case of the Giggles

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