Laughter

A comment on my last post reminded me of a laugh I had in Primary on Sunday. During singing time, Kathie asked the kids what they did for Pioneer Day as an introduction to a pioneer song. Daniel, in all his blunt glory, proceeded to tell everyone about the lanterns (which he liked a lot) and then said, "And we made applesauce gingerbread, but it didn't turn out very good." Understatement of the year! But such a diplomatic child. He did not say, " . . .but my mom tried to burn the house down and ruined it!"

Melissa and I were sitting in the back laughing. One of the pros to blogging is that I rarely have to explain to people what the humor is about when things like this happen.

3 of 4 . . .

. . . elements have added a tiny bit of chaos to our already chaotic life.

FIRE: This has reference to the smoldering gingerbread incident of July 24th.

AIR: We have spent the last four days trying to get the smell of scorched molasses out of our house.

WATER: On Saturday night, as I was toweling off after a shower, I heard the sound of rain . . . inside the house. Without my glasses I couldn't see where it was coming from (Without my glasses a rhinoceros could stampede through my living room and I would hear the noise but miss the rhino.) so I finished drying off and grabbed my glasses. And lo and behold, an indoor rain storm was occurring in the bathroom. I hollered for Kev and a bucket and then vacated the bathroom so Kev and Dave could figure out what was causing our indoor weather system. After running every faucet and flushing every toilet in the house, they finally discovered that the water was leaking down through a crack in the floor of the upstairs bathroom. An exuberant young bather had poured water in just the right (or wrong, in this case) place for it to run along the edge of the tub and down into the crack. Luckily for us, it was a fairly easy fix once the problem was discovered. At least it wasn't toilet water.

So having had capricious visits from three of four, if the sandbox mysteriously implodes creating a sinkhole in the back yard, I'll probably sit down and laugh my head off.

Party Like It's 1849

I know. Pioneer Day is a celebration of when the first Mormon pioneers came into the Salt Lake Valley in 1847. But the arrivals continued for well over a decade, so the title still works!

Earlier this week, Nathan asked me if we could have a "Pioneer Party" on the 24th. So after our decidedly un-pioneer dinner (I neither killed nor butchered the cow that gave us our hamburgers), we had a little pioneer celebration. First, we made gingerbread, the old fashioned kind that is actually a cake. We did it just like the pioneers: in addition to the flour, sugar, and molasses, we added some milk-free butter from our non-dairy cow, a not-egg from our almost-chicken, and then beat everything up with our oxen-powered hand mixer.


Next we poured the batter into a pan and baked it in our buffalo chip-fueled Whirlpool oven. Unfortunately for us, the thing overflowed all over the oven, making our entire house smell like the previously mentioned all natural fuel. When I pulled it out of the oven, the top was cooked, the edges were smoldering, and the bottom was still raw. So I slid a middle piece onto a plate and stuck it in the microwave to see if I could finish cooking it so the boys could at least have a taste. In spite of the fact that we have had our current microwave for nearly a year, eight years of habit still rule my microwaving skills and I forget that the new one is more powerful. Can you see where this is going? It wasn't long before wisps of smoke started escaping from the microwave and when I opened it up, I couldn't even see the plate for the smoke. (I really am a better cook than this, I swear! But since I don't believe in doing anything halfway, a disaster always seems to turn into a total catastrophe!) Nathan asked if we can try again with a pan "this tall" (his hands were about a foot apart). I felt really bad for burning his pioneer party dessert. And we didn't even get to do the part where we poured our applesauce (that we actually did make just like the pioneers, and may I say that homemade applesauce beats anything in a can!) on the top.

While the gingerbread was baking (before it started to look like the inside of a volcano in here), we made tin can lanterns. The boys drew designs for their lanterns, but before I thought to tell Daniel it needed to be a simple design, he had this whole elaborate plan drawn up. It had a picture of the space shuttle and an airplane and I think it even had a covered wagon. The words were something about the "pioneering spirit." I felt bad telling him it wouldn't work for this project. He was sad for a minute or two, then drew a solar system. This part of the party was a complete success.




The boys spent an hour hammering nails and were mighty pleased with their results. We didn't have time to put on handles or find candles tall enough to fit in the can and still light (we had a microwave induced inferno to deal with), so we just lit a tea candle and inverted the can over the top (hence the reason Nathan's trees are upside down in the picture).



After that (since our dessert was a bit crispy from our indoor campfire), we acted just like the pioneers and put everyone to bed when it got dark. Those pioneers really knew how to party!


But seriously, I'm so grateful for all the hard work the pioneers did and all the sacrifices they made so that I can be where I am, living the wonderful life that I do. I never would have survived the life they lived. Considering I nearly burned the house down this evening without once actually dealing with an open flame (Kev handled the candles!), I probably would have turned the entire wagon train into kindling long before we reached the Rockies.

Negatory, Good Buddy!

Matthew learned how to say no yesterday. He has had the head shake down for a while, but now he is verbal as well. Considering how stubborn he is, this could be a very bad thing.

Attack of the Slime Monsters

In an attempt to keep Daniel and Nathan from killing each other, periodically throughout the summer we do activities designed to distract them from boredom and keep them occupied for awhile. Today we made slime. This is super cool goo that feels like a cross between playdough and jello. Totally fun. Nathan told me that he is a slime artist, explaining to me that he makes art out of slime. Daniel wasn't going to touch it at first, but once he saw how fun it was he changed his mind.

Daniel taking his stirring very seriously.

Nathan getting all the Borax dissolved.

Whoaa!

We went to the library this morning and got our July prize for the summer reading program. Daniel pulled out a plastic fly ring. Nathan pulled out a ladybug eraser and was not happy about it. I think he was taking his frustrations out on the slime. He was much happier afterward. I think slime therapy works for him.

Slime Monsters!

Homemade Slime

CRAFT MATERIALS:
Two mixing bowls
Measuring cups and spoons
Glue
Borax
Green food coloring
Water

Time needed: Under 1 Hour

1. Mix together 3/4 cup warm water, 1 cup glue and several drops of green food coloring in the first bowl.

2. In the second bowl, mix together 4 teaspoons borax and 1 1/3 cups warm water.

3. Pour the contents of the first bowl into the second, but don’t stir. Let it sit for 1 minute, then lift the now-congealed slime out of the bowl.

4. Divide slime so that each child has a piece to play with. The glue in slime can make it stick to certain fabrics. To minimize accidents, give each little monster a zip-top bag to store it in.

Tips:
SAFETY NOTE: Since borax is toxic in large doses, be sure to keep the slime away from kids younger than age three.

Note: If any of you want to make this come get some Borax from me! I comes in a five pound box and since a recipe of slime only uses 4 tsp., I have tons!

"You Already Know"

Yesterday I was reading something that referred to Moroni's Promise and it made me think back on my own personal "Book of Mormon conversion." (You'll have to forgive me for not knowing what I was reading. In addition to the Book of Mormon, I'm also in the middle of a book about understanding Isaiah, two issues of The Ensign, and a handful of issues of The Friend. Needless to say, my spot at the table is a big, enormous, crazy, chaotic, wonderful mess.) I'm not sure I have recorded this particular experience anywhere, mostly due to the fact that journaling at twelve is an entirely different beast from journaling at thirty-four. ("And I was like . . . And he was like . . . And her outfit was totally . . .") So being reminded of the experience, I thought I would take the chance to write it down, and in doing so, share it will all of you.

When I was twelve, all my friends were in the midst of discovering that the Book of Mormon is true. Every Sunday in church, someone different would share their experience, usually while crying the tears of the newly converted. These experiences were of the overwhelming, life changing type. And I would sit and listen and wonder what I was doing wrong because I didn't have any big, wonderful experiences to share.

After a while, I determined to really and truly focus on knowing if the Book of Mormon was true. If I needed to have one of those wondrous experiences in order to know, I wanted to have it. So one day I brought the question to the Lord. The answer I received was immediate, very clear, and much simpler than I had ever expected. There were no burning bushes, no thinning of veils, no overwhelming of mind and body. The answer was simply, "You already know."

Over the years, that simple and concise answer has become a pattern in my life. On numerous days of life-changing decision (such as which college to attend, whether to go on a mission or continue my schooling, whether Kev was the one I should marry), the answer has been exactly the same: "You already know."

In retrospect, I learned three very important things that day when I was twelve. First, I learned that spiritual experiences are not "one size fits all." These experiences are as varied as the individuals to whom they come. Second, I learned that by trying to live every day in accordance with the gospel, the Spirit is in fact guiding me, whispering to me, directing me every day of my life. He is my constant companion, not just a visitor on those all important "days of asking." Third, I learned that the Lord trusts me much more than I trust myself. By telling me that I already know the answer, the Lord is assuring me that I've kept Him in mind all along and that I'm on the right path. He doesn't doubt me, but I frequently doubt myself. What better reminder not to second guess myself than to tell me that I actually do know what I'm doing and that my choices are okay?

"Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise." (Alma 37:6)

Aaugh!

I began today thinking it would be a pretty mellow day. I only had two tasks on my to do list: make bread and wash the towels. So after breakfast I made the bread, two batches because I've discovered that if I use the quick-rise method for the first and the traditional-rise method with the second I can complete two batches in the time it normally takes me to do one. While the bread was rising and baking, I washed three loads of towels. I figured that after lunch I could fold the towels and then have at least an hour or two to relax and read a book.

Assuming that relaxation could happen on a Monday seems to have been a critical error.

At about 12:30, I got Matthew his lunch and then got lunch for the rest of us while he was eating. Two bites into my sandwich, I heard the sound that signifies a very unpleasant diaper change. But it wasn't until I stood up and walked over to check things out that I realized just how unpleasant. Matthew was literally sitting in a puddle of poop. A big puddle. At that point, all thoughts of a lazy afternoon went right out the window.

I carried Matthew (very gingerly by the armpits) and stood him in the tub, at which point he started screaming. I stripped him down, rinsed him off, cleaned out the tub, bathed Matthew, got him dry and dressed, and swabbed out the tub with a clorox wipe (knowing I would need to scrub it later). Then I rinsed out his clothes (knowing I would need to scrub the sink as well), during which time I heard the buzzer on the washer go off and thought, "Oh good. I can throw these clothes right in the washer." So I finished rinsing the clothes, washed my hands, and went to put the wet towels into the dryer. However, when I opened the washer door, I discovered that a throw pillow I had chucked in with the towels had burst open in the washing machine.



At that point I nearly sat down and cried, but I figured I really didn't have time for that since there was still a high chair full of poop to take care of.

Two plastic grocery bags full of fiber fill later, I chucked the furry towels in the to-be-washed-again-later pile and put Matthew's clothes in the washer. Then I attacked the high chair. Halfway through, I ran out of Clorox wipes. So I hauled out the Scunci steam cleaner (which I got brand new for $5!) and kept on going. Once the chair was clean and soaking in a pleasant bleach disinfectant, I took out the garbage, got Matthew and Nathan down for a nap and finally ate my lunch. It was 2:00.

After lunch I cleaned the bathroom. I figured that since I was already cleaning the tub and the sink I might as well do the whole thing. Then I cleaned up lunch, wiped down the high chair for the final time, and switched the laundry . . . again. On a positive note, the combination of Shout and OxyClean is like a laundry miracle! All Matthew's clothes came clean the first time!

So here is a rundown of what I've done on my lazy Monday: I've made eight loaves of bread, done five loads of laundry (with two more to go), steam cleaned the high chair, cleaned the bathroom, bathed the baby, and in thirty minutes I'll have to think about making dinner. Total number of pages read: 0.

It is definitely Monday . . . with a vengeance.

Ingenuity

Matthew is a shorty. He is also a smarty-farty pants, which means that he is already coming up with creative ways to get around his lack of stature. Here is the result of today's brainstorm.

The Set-up

The First Step

Almost There

The Home Stretch

Mighty Pleased

And yes. That is a jar of butt paste. It says so right on the label. And it is the best diaper rash ointment we have ever used.

The Teething Beast

Matthew is cutting a new molar and unlike the first three, which kind of snuck up on me, I'm completely aware of this one. And I wish it would sneak faster.

Matthew has been an absolute beast for about four days now. He screams all the time and wants to be held nonstop. He isn't interested in playing. He hasn't been eating much, which is different for him. And when he does eat, he is pickier than ever. We have taken to slapping on the Anbesol at the same time as the bib just to get him to put something in his mouth. If we don't, he puts the first bite in and then sits there and cries, mouth wide open, food still in it. By Sunday, even the Anbesol wasn't working. Matthew just cried and cried. I spent all of sacrament meeting standing in the hall. At home, he wouldn't even sit in the high chair. He threw a huge fit when we chucked him in there. Kev couldn't even hold him, which is strange since he is usually a daddy's boy. And he wouldn't eat anything, not even Otter Pops, which is definitely saying something! He hadn't eaten all day, so I finally sat him in my lap with the baby-smorgasbord (Cheerios, Kix, graham crackers, the freeze-dried fruit bits he loves, etc.) on the table in front of us. And he screamed. Loudly. For at least ten minutes. Then he finally gave in to his hunger and ate. Two meals we did this. Screaming included both times. He may be mischievous on a normal day, but I much prefer trying to keep him out of the garbage can (full of poisonous yogurt containers and egg shells) than dealing with the endless wailing. If only general anesthetic was available to the public . . .

This must be punishment for not noticing the arrival of the first three molars.

Mmmm! Pancakes!

When I make Matthew friendly pancakes, the kind with soy milk and no eggs, I usually make a bunch and then stash them in the freezer. Then when we make regular pancakes for everyone else, we can just pull one out of the freezer for Matthew. I have found this is much nicer than trying to make two kinds of pancakes at once, and since soy milk is more expensive than regular milk (I know. That's a bit hard to do with milk prices as high as they are.), it is also more cost effective than feeding soy milk pancakes to everyone.

When I was digging around in the freezer this afternoon looking for chicken, the last pancake happened to fall out. Matthew, being completely convinced that he is in immediate danger of starving to death, grabbed the pancake. I figured he could eat it for dinner. But he resisted putting it on the counter. I believe the correct word to describe the sound he made is "shriek." He carried it around with him. After a while, one edge of the ziplock bag tore, creating a perfect handle. And presto! Pancake purse.


After carrying the purse for a while, Matthew became determined to get the pancake out. He is, after all, wasting away before my very eyes.


He tried everything, with no success, at last resorting to begging of the worst kind . . . the puppydog eyes.


Now there is a look that only a mean, mean momma like me can resist. He can have the pancake for dinner. Besides, it will be defrosted by then.

Freeze Tag

I don't always respond to "tags" from my bloggin' buddies (Sorry about that! Sometimes I just don't care!), but as I've read everyone's responses to this particular one it really made me think about what I want out of my life right now. I've been tagged by Kathie, so here it is . . .

Name 5 goals and the places you've lived, then tag 4 other people:

Some of my current goals:
1. I want to really and truly spend more time with my kids. Yes, I am a stay-at-home-mom who spends every waking hour with my kids. But it is not all quality time. My goal is to make at least some of that time positive, quality time with my kids. Not just constant parallel-play time.

2. As a huge plan-in-advancer, I sometimes have trouble when things don't go exactly as planned. As a result, I often struggle with accepting the Lord's plan for me. So goal #2 is to try to let go of my OCD long enough to let the Lord guide my life . . . and to be okay with the direction He sends me.

3. I am currently in the process of organizing all the piles of stuff all over my house. I want to have at least a tidy home. I'm realistic enough not to expect perfection with three children in the house, but I at least want to have a "home" for all my stuff. Dumping it all on my desk is not the same as putting it away!

4. Patience. With everyone. And everything (see #2). Especially my children. They deserve that.

5. Debt. Enough said.


These are the places I've lived:
Provo, UT (with an aunt and uncle until I was three weeks old)
Newport, Rhode Island
Athens, Georgia
Okefenoku, Georgia
Bremerton, Washington (in a Presbyterian Manse)
Bremerton, Washington (in Navy housing)
Escondido, CA
San Miguel, The Phillipines )in a house right on the beach)
Subic Bay, The Phillipines (in Navy housing)
Pleasant Grove, UT (while waiting to find a home in Salt Lake)
Taylorsville, UT (where my parents still live)
Orem, UT (with an aunt and uncle my freshman year at BYU)
Provo, UT (basement apartment)
Provo, UT (house)
Kearns, UT (the duplex Kev and I rented when we were first married)
Taylorsville, UT (with Kev's parents)
West Jordan, UT
Murray, UT

Now tag to four wonderful people (if you care, that is!):
Patti, Esther, Tiffany, Lisa

Freedom . . .

is what it's all about.

All Hail The Ground Bloom Flower!


Matthew learns about poppers.

Proud to be an American!


Matthew's Face: Red, White, and Blue For the Holiday


Still A Bit Nervous



Glee

Patriotism

I love holidays. I know. Duh. Almost everyone loves holidays. But seriously, not only do I love spending a little extra time with my family celebrating an assortment of great blessings we have in our lives, I also love that Daniel and Nathan get so excited about holidays that it is easy to get them interested in a holiday themed project that keeps them occupied. (oc·cu·py transitive verb oc·cu·pied, oc·cu·py·ing, oc·cu·pies 1: to engage the attention or energies of, 2: to prevent arguing, quarreling, or bickering, 3: to eradicate exclamations of boredom, 3: to eliminate the ability to drive everyone in a two mile radius completely crazy. ex. Daniel and Nathan were occupied.)

This particular project was especially easy for me. All I had to do was supply red, white and blue construction paper, scissors, and some glue and the boys did the rest.


This is what they came up with:

And I had an hour of peace and quiet. No screaming or yelling. No fighting or bickering. No crying or whining.

I love holidays.