One of my 8 year old sons is the king of superlatives. If there is something I fail to do once, and he feels a need to complain about it, he starts off with, “you never…” or “you always…” or something like it. Today I got “you never let us have school lunch!” So, there we have it, one of my weaknesses told very confidently from a loved one. The thing is, he just had school lunch yesterday and if I could afford it, he’d have it every day because I do not like making lunches! At least what I send is probably healthier than the things he’d choose at school. I remember eating cafeteria food and wondering who in the world actually eats beets or that nasty stringy lemon flavored cooked spinach? I’d always leave those poisons alone and eat the roll, or whichever colored Soylent they were serving that day.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Even with the time change the boys still got up early today. I slept in as best I could for a Sunday morning and had a lovely bowl of Honeycomb while the boys played downstairs. Isaac finally made his way upstairs, having spent the morning watching Follow Me Boys, the Disney movie about boy scouts, with his brothers. Lately, he’s been trying to prove that he’s “older” by watching whatever movie his 8 year old brothers are watching even if he doesn’t like it. Follow me Boys would definitely fall under that category.
Chris had just gotten home from his meetings when Isaac came upstairs in a bit of a ticked-off mood. I was in my room trying to get ready for church when Isaac was in this emotional state. He came to the top of the stairs, walked straight to the kitchen, up to the refrigerator, opened the freezer door and put Luke Skywalker on the shelf. He then said, “I don’t want anyone to take him out of the freezer, ever!” You see, Luke’s been living on the 3rd shelf of the freezer for the past month now, right in front of the non-fat ice cream and the beef and bean burritos. He’s quite fine as he’s dressed in his Hoth (snowy ice planet) attire, but while Isaac sees him as wearing a coat and fit for such temperatures, I keep seeing another victim put on ice for some crime against “the family.” The reason for Isaac’s mood was the fact that his removal was a repeat offense for which he has lectured us all already. Thus, this wasn’t the first time a rescue effort had been made on Luke’s behalf. His brother Reed, obviously acting in the role of Han Solo, keeps taking Luke out of the freezer, and Isaac, making sure “the guys” are in the location that their attire says they’re dressed for, keeps putting him back. Isaac, spending most of the day with “the guys” while his brother’s are in school, feels a certain ownership over them and also feels that he knows best about their rolls in this world. Some are permanently “bad guys,” some are always in jail, some belong in the dirt of my potted plants, and at least one belongs in the freezer. Once we figure this out I’m sure we’ll be at peace with the predestination of plastic action figures. If these figures want a change, they will have to gain animation and learn to adopt an existential philosophy on their own and inform Isaac of their wishes.
Yes, these toys do play a much larger role in our lives than one would think they should. This is why I’ve already started looking for lodging for some uncertain date where pink padding is the interior wall treatment of choice.
Friday, March 12, 2010
My husband, Chris, sent me this link to an interview on the Today show with the Staker family. It’s a miraculous story worth hearing. Chris had served a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Ukraine from 1994-1996 and served as a missionary companion with baby Bronson’s father, Matt. Make sure you have a tissue on hand. Also check out their blog which documents their experience and its many miracles.
Today Show Interview
Staker Family Blog:
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
3.) Write a Haiku that describes what you love about an ordinary day.
(To do this correctly, and beautifully, is harder than it seems, at least for me).
The tales he could tell
ev’ry one a swishing wag
From wet nose to tail
The sun peeks over
wanting to see her shadows
just like yesterday
5.) Share some photos and stories as well as what you love about spring.
I don’t really have any stories to go with my spring photos other than the general feeling I have every time I see little bits of green pushing their way out of the thawing ground. It’s excitement, the kind that makes one giddy, bouncy, squeal-ish, and should one have a tail, it would definitely be wagged at an amazingly fast tempo. It’s a time of year when 40 degrees Fahrenheit is nearly tropical and if the sun has so much as shot a ray on a piece of dormant grass, I am the one chasing it down for more. In this most glorious of seasons, I could also be one of those caught outside talking to sleeping plants, nudging them, trying to rouse them and get them thinking about blooming and popping their herbal and pastoral joints back into place.
The coming of a Michigan spring storm. Those clouds were amazing and let me tell you, thunderstorms in flat parts of this world are very different from the ones that climb over the mountains and surprise you. One shot of lightening with it’s accompanying thunder clap keeps going and going.
Isaac on our visit to Holland, MI in May of 2006.
This yellow tulip is almost edible.
I love this tulip, can’t remember what kind it is, but it reminds me of that plant on The Little Shop of Horrors, too cool!
Here’s a shot of Baby B, or shall we call her Miss B? Miss A was looking the other way during the camera shots. I went to the doctor today and everything is going well and as far as moms carrying twins go, I got an A+. See? I do know my biology Mr. Whoever-it-was who gave me a C in high school, or at least my innards do. We’re measuring at 29 weeks with Miss A coming in at 2 lbs. 13 oz. and Miss B at 2 lbs. 15 oz. both are head up and facing each other, perfect for conversation and close enough that they can keep each other’s secrets without even an ultra-sound technician finding them out. Secrets like who’s the one constantly stepping on mommy’s bladder or who keeps jabbing a finger into mommy’s old scars. Girls.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Dear Dr. Minivan,
Am I the only woman on earth who thinks maternity pictures, specifically the naked belly poses, are the weirdest things ever? If you’re going to do it, you might as well document the whole grotesque thing from start to finish.
1. Flat stomach, or in my case, baggy stomach from previous pregnancies.
2. The growing of the bulge, month by month up to the belly button pop, cooked turkey-timer style.
3. The ready-to-explode stomach leaving the stretch marks and any other scars there. Photoshop will be a no-no.
4. The post delivery belly as it returns, or tries to return, to the proper pre-pregnancy size and placement.
I think what is most disturbing about these pictures is the bare belly. I must have a keener sense of Victorian modesty during my own pregnancy, than others. I’m constantly trying to find the longer pregnancy shirts, the larger belly holding pant waste bands, all in an attempt to NOT look like Baby Huey.
In the past, and even now, we take pictures of my clothed belly in order to document the unbelievable size it is, and the bigger plans it has to achieve. For me, being the carrier of twins, it has the same sensational response as perusing those World Record books. The woman with the longest neck, the guy with the largest ring in his lip, the tallest man or shortest man, or the 3 headed duck. Yes, it’s freaky that one belly could hold so much and I’ve only got two. Let’s try the lady with 8!
Anyway, this entry was inspired by my having run across this type of photography a little earlier today in which it almost made the lunch I finally got down, come back up. Again, I’m probably alone in my opinion of this type of photography but I nearly always want to hurl just looking at my own belly, so why in the world would I want to look at anyone else's? To each their own, just keep it in the closed photo album on the book shelf next to the video tape that recorded the whole gory delivery, in front of the bottled placenta and across from beaker of chord blood.
On a more positive and non-critical note, I can hardly wait to see these babies, the ones that wiggle all over the place and make themselves known through kicks and summersaults. Seeing them on the ultrasounds is such a treat and they are already beautiful even in black and white sonar. Life is truly a miracle and I feel very blessed to be allowed to help raise them along with the totally awesome children I already have.
Baby Huey, a.k.a. The Vented anti-bare-belliest
Monday, March 1, 2010
Vroom, vroom! Our first Pinewood Derby! Reed’s is the red and white striped one and Douglas’ is the red with blue flames on it. He wanted to name it “flamer” but I discouraged such a name after I was able to wipe away the tears and breath once more, then I suggested, “blue fire.” He liked it.
They had the coolest track! All of the race times were put into a computer and then displayed on a projector for instant results.
Douglas ended up with the award for “Best Workmanship” and Reed for “Coolest Weight Placement” along with the best orange drink mustache. That stuff is nasty! It tastes just like that stuff the doctor gives you for the blood glucose test, ick! We all had a great time and now know what we’re up against for next year. Time to do a little bit of research and talk to some pro derby dudes.
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