Alyce's Black Eye

Alyce woke up with a black eye. She had bumped her cheek on her dresser the night before and didn’t think anything of it. She woke up and it was bruised. While eating breakfast before church, she started writing on a Post-It note. Then smirking, she stuck it on her chest. It said, “My parents did this to me.” Very funny. We had a little talk about Child Protective Services.

Claire Learns a Bad Word

Today after dinner, Derek and I were laying next to each other on our stomachs on the floor of the family room. The kids were crawling, walking, jumping, rolling, sliding, laying, and straddling all over our backs. As we were groaning, moaning, and grunting, Quincy told us that some kids had made fun of him, calling him a scaredy cat because he got scared at the Spook Alley at school. We asked him what he did and he said he told them, “Please don’t say that anymore.” They kept doing it, so he said again, “Please don’t say that anymore.” They still did it, so he told on them and that took care of it. We praised him for doing the right thing and for being so polite and level-headed about it, then started joking about what he could’ve said to them. I told him he should’ve said, “I’m a blue belt in karate. Stop making fun of me.” Derek mumbled more to me than anyone else, thinking the kids wouldn’t hear, “Just tell them to stop or you’ll kick their ass.” Quincy asked, “Or you’ll what?” Claire said, “Kick their ass.” Quincy said, “What?” Claire said louder, “Kick their ass.” Derek and I were laughing so hard we couldn’t stop them. I’ll let Derek explain that one to the teachers.

Child Humor

Here’s the kind of humor I have to listen to every day. Quincy’s joke: If you’re chewing gum and you’re a mummy, you should say, “I’m a gummy mummy.” After a while, this kind of humor starts to become funny. And then you start thinking in this kind of humor. And then your friends stop calling you. And then you realize that you also laugh at “Maggie and the Ferocious Beast.” And then you start craving kids’ meals. And then you start spending more and more time playing matching games on your iPhone…on Level 1. It’s just a downward spiral from there.

Sugar as a Drug

I sometimes wonder how things would change if we viewed sugar intake as a substance abuse problem. We would suddenly hide all of our candy and cookies so they weren’t in public view, and we would sneak a piece here and there when life got too hard to handle. There would be a special aisle at the grocery store, or rather a section, since the amount of sugar products would exceed an aisle. You would have to have proper identification to enter and there would be armed cops standing by the door. Halloween would become a bunch of Speak Easys and parents would never admit to each other that they were taking their kids trick-or-treating. All the righteous Latter-Day Saints who obeyed the prophet and built up their food storage would turn into Drug Lords, doling out their sugar to the highest bidder.

Halloween

Whoever invented Halloween should be shot. It was definitely NOT a mother of small children who turn into Gremlins when given sugar. It was probably some sweet old Grandma who thought it would be nice to give a few of her neighbor children a treat so they wouldn’t be so frightened of all the scary decorations. I’m sure she invited them to ring her doorbell in their costumes and in return she would give them a sweet treat. The tradition probably caught on amongst her Old Farts Group, and Halloween was born. Well, Sweet Treat this, Granny!

Quincy Learns the Value of Work

On the way to Karate:
Quincy: "I don't want to go to karate."
Mom: "Just think, in a few years, you'll have your black belt and you'll be glad you stuck with it."
Quincy: (Thinks for a while) "Can't we just buy me a black belt?"

Classic Quote

Quincy: "Mom, can you help me?"
Mom: "Just a minute. I've got to get Batman out of the toilet."

Comments from your kids that you DON'T want to hear

Voices from the kitchen floor:
"Look, Claire, we made a muddy lake."

Plog

I love the word "plog." It's a combination between "clog" and "plug." It perfectly describes what happens to the toilet when there's too much toilet paper in it: "Claire plogged the toilet" or "The toilet's plogged" (for those refusing to admit guilt). My kids think it's a real word. It should be.

One of Those Days

I went to pick up Quincy from karate the other day, and was talking to his teacher afterwards. During the conversation, as every mother does, I was periodically counting my children to make sure they were all there. At last count, I located Alyce, Quincy, and Claire, but didn't see Xander. I quickly scanned the room with no luck. "Where's Xander?" I asked to no one in particular. Starting to panic, I raced toward the doors thinking he had walked out the door and was on his way into the street. Alyce ran after me, saying, "Mom, Mom..." I turned around, irritated at this distraction. "What?" I asked curtly. She calmly replied, "Mom, you're holding him."

Hatching the Egg

I started fixing scrambled eggs for the kids for dinner. Into the kitchen skips Claire. "Can I help you, Mom? I want to hatch the eggs." "How cute," I thought, "Only a four-year-old would call it 'hatching the egg'." I let her hatch one egg into a cup. As she hatched...and hatched...and hatched the egg over and over again, I cringed when bits of shell found themselves amongst the hatchings. I carefully picked the shell out while another egg was scrambledly frying on the stove, browning faster and faster. My attention diverted between shells and smoke, I did not notice five little fingers reach up to carefully wrap themselves around another egg. A little voice asked, "Mom, can I hatch this egg?" Feeling somewhat frazzled, I couldn't catch myself in time. Unbidden, the words slipped out, "No, don't hatch that egg yet." Did I really just use the word "hatch?" Flipping the rapidly cooking egg, and retrieving the last of the shell, I finally felt back in control. That feeling of control does not last long in a mother's life. When I heard the splat, I realized what had happened. Claire's egg had just hatched itself all over the floor. Just another typical mother moment.

I LOVE being a Mom!

Jenn's face says it all: "I LOVE being a Mom!"

The Boss Revisited

Quincy and Alyce were talking the other day. Quincy said, "I want to be a teacher when I grow up...Wait, no." He thinks for a minute, then, "Mom, what's that thing that you said before that tells people what to do and has servants?"
"The president of a company?" I asked.
"Yeah! That's what I want to be."

Xander Learns the Word "Cheese"

You can guess who this child belongs to. He doesn't know "please," he doesn't know "thank you," but he does know "cheese." If you tell him to say cheese, this is what he does:

Claire Gets It Right

Claire was playing with the Fisher Price Little People the other day. She had all the fences put together forming a circle, and inside the circle was another circle made up of Little People. I asked her what she was playing. She said they were blessing a baby. Sure enough, there was the baby, right in front of the Dad. Interestingly enough, all the women were included in the circle.

Derek Tries to Multi-task

Derek and I went out on a date on Friday night. We pulled into the parking lot of Pei Wei and noticed there were not a lot of parking spaces. Derek found one and was apparently concentrating a little too hard on pulling into the space, because he said, "Boy, it is crowwwDED! With a capital D!" He didn't even notice what he had said until I repeated it back to him while laughing my head off. We both agreed that had Justin been in the car with us, he would have been crying.

Toilet Tally

Here is a list of some of the things that have gone in the toilet since I last posted: Legos, a squid toy (which Alyce urinated on because she didn't see it when she sat down. I don't know how she missed it; it took up the entire pot and stuck out of the water so much I'm surprised it didn't poke her!), a crayon, a book, a pad of paper (which Xander was sucking on after dunking it--hope he doesn't get sick!), and irony of ironies, the toilet tongs themselves made it into the toilet!

Toilet Tongs

Xander has entered the stage where everything gets put in the toilet. We have a designated pair of tongs that we use to fish things out, affectionately called The Toilet Tongs. Most of the things that get put in the toilet are thrown away. If you look in all the bathroom trash cans, you will find odd things like a slinky, a pirate ball, an entire Fisher Price radio toy (quite large, but already broken and now water-logged), a tube of toothpaste, a rubber duck, two gold coins. It's actually a great way to purge ourselves of some toys. If he starts putting my paper in the toilet, that's a different story. You'll see a Xander in the trash can.

A Misspelling

The kids have been trying to catch each other with the quintessential, "Spell I cup." Claire does not quite get it because she can't spell yet. Driving home today, Claire said, "Mom, I want to go to Eye-See-You-Pee. That spells IHOP." I hope not!

My Birthday

Here is the conversation that happened as we were eating birthday cake tonight:

Derek: Let's all say something we love about Mom.

Xander: Mamamama (saying "more" referring to the ice cream)

Claire: Come back to me. I have to think about it.

Quincy: (Laughs because he thought a piece of cake went down my shirt.)

Alyce: I love Mom because she makes good dinners and most of the time I like them.

Derek: I like Mom's new shirt. (see picture)

Another Why

Why is it that kids find the smallest, most inconvenient space next to you, and stand there?

Complaint Form

Every mother should have a stack of complaint forms. I would use mine every time one of my kids comes to me with a whiny voice saying, "Moooooom?" followed by any number of complaints. Quincy hit me, Claire took my toy away, Alyce is copying me...(kids haven't figured out that all they need to do to stop the copying is to be silent.) My standard response would be, "Fill out a complaint form, I'll review it, then get back to you with my verdict." Having a complaint form would weed out all the trivial problems because it would be too much trouble to fill out the form. Only the big stuff would make it on paper, and then I could just deal with it all at once at the end of the day after the kids have gone to bed, thereby saving me from saying rash things like, "That toy is mine for the next two years!" It works for big companies, right? So why shouldn't it work for Moms?

Bes

I think "bes" should be a word (pronounced 'bees'). The kids use it all the time, it makes sense, and half the time I don't even notice it. Here is how it's used: If he bes nice to me, I'll be nice to him. Think about it. What would you use in its place? "Is"? How descriptive. "Bes" is an active word. "Is" just is. In fact, I think we should adopt all the words that kids use: He comed over last night. The water runned for a long time. I telled her a secret. And one that just happened: He falled down the stairs. "Bes" just fits right in. She bes very careful when she uses scissors. After a while, it just starts to come out of its own accord. Say it for a few minutes, then I dare you to NOT use it.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

I'm driving home from swimming lessons, Claire is crying (loudly) because she wants her seat reclined, but if it reclines it will hit Quincy behind her. I push play on the Book of Mormon CD thinking that will help the mood in the car. (We listen to it every morning, and it usually helps.) Claire starts crying louder, so I turn up the volume. You've never heard Mosiah chapter 15 so loudly. Then Quincy starts yelling to turn it down because it's too loud (notice the irony). And Alyce starts yelling at Quincy to stop yelling. Finally, I stop the car, turn the volume down, and turn around to yell at the kids for being so loud that I can't hear the CD. What's wrong with this picture?

Maybe You Should Put That On Your Blog

So the kids have been reading my blog. Not sure that's such a good thing. (Especially concerning the S.C. comment--see "Why?") Now, every time something funny happens or someone says something funny, they all say, "Maybe you should put that on your blog, Mom." For example, tonight, Alyce was rolling around on the bed and ripped one. Quincy started laughing really hard, then after he had recovered, said, "Maybe you should put that on your blog, Mom." Curious, I asked him, "What would I put?" He said, "Alyce stuck her bum in the air and tooted." So there you have it. Quincy's (and Alyce's) contribution to my blog.

The Boss

We were having a discussion about what Quincy was going to be when he grows up. He said he wanted to be a teacher. I told him he should be a boss or the president of a company so he could be in control and tell people what to do. He really liked that. He said, "Yeah! Then people would come to me and say, 'Hello, Master,' and bow down in front of me." Speechless, I said, (apparently not entirely speechless), "Ummm..." But he paid me no heed. He continued, "Then I would be like the Emperor on Star Wars, and I would be in a dark room and I would have a black chair with buttons on it." Hmmmm... Watch out, world.

Glitter Does Not Digest

I found this out when I was changing Xander's diaper and found a sparkly surprise! The day before, he had been playing with a pretend microphone that was covered with glitter. Apparently, he took a little taste of the microphone because it came through loud and clear (pun intended). I have to admit, though, it added a little bit of magic, if you will, into the doldrums of motherhood.

Perhaps there is a market for this: On Mother's Day, (or rather the day before) the father can buy Glitter Food and secretly feed the kids glitter mixed in with their food. The next day, all the children can add a little sparkle into their mother's life. This will sell like hotcakes because all the fathers would rather buy the product than clean up the mess for the mother, ironically enough. Of course, as fate would have it, the product would probably give all the kids diarrhea, so the mother would have double the mess to clean up.

Or maybe you could sell Glitter Spritz so when a child throws up all over the carpet, or poops on the couch, or pees on the rug, you can just sprinkle this Glitter Spritz over the top of it, bringing an instant smile to your face and making you feel like Mary Poppins as you scrub it.

By the way, we've never had poop on the couch, so those of you who visit us can rest assured that it is a clean couch. And don't get worried if you see glitter on the cushions. It's just from the microphone.

Father's Day Singing Time

Yesterday, for Singing Time, we were practicing Father's Day songs. I had Derek come in wearing an old tie that he was going to throw away. I had him come up to the front and told him I liked his tie. I made a big deal about it, saying how well it matched his suit and told the kids that his Mom had given it to him (which was true). Then I told the kids that I thought his tie needed to be trimmed. Each time they sang the songs, they would get to cut off a piece of his tie, and the louder they sang, the more they got to cut off. You should have seen their faces. Some of them were horrified, others were excited, (Quincy was the first one to volunteer) and some weren't sure if I was kidding or not.

I have never heard them sing so loud! It was a hit! Each child got to keep a piece of the tie. Then Derek wore the tie to sacrament meeting. I also had one of the kids' grandpa come in and do the same thing. Afterwards, I told them that they were really old ties that were going to be thrown away anyway, and that they shouldn't cut ties up. I could just see the kids going into their Dad's closets and shredding a bunch of expensive ties!

The only thing I felt bad about was Alyce. I noticed that she was not participating, which surprised me. When I called on her to cut off a piece, she wouldn't do it, and she kept her head down most of the time. Afterwards, I asked her if that activity made her feel bad and she said yes. I asked her if it was because she felt bad for Dad having his tie cut up, and she said yes and almost started crying! Little tenderhearted Alyce! I explained that it was a tie that Dad was going to throw away anyway and that he was never going to wear it again, and that I had told him to wear an old tie that day so he knew about it. She was fine after that, but I still felt really bad.

Why?

Why is it that children will believe that a pencil is a microphone, and a jacket worn with only the hood on is hair, and there is a monster in the closet, and Santa Claus is real, yet they don't believe you when you say, "If you do that one more time..."????

Quincy's Day--June 7, 2008

9:00 AM—While eating breakfast, Quincy remarked to Mom, “Down below…where the bad people live…that’s called the “h” word.” He thinks for a moment. “I think that’s where we get rated-R movies from. They mail them up to us.”

12:00 noon—After lunch he started making a book called “That’s Not My Dad…” based on the Usborne Books. (Example: That’s not my tractor. It’s tires are too squishy. That’s not my tractor. It’s headlights are so shiny. Etc…). After he wrote the book, he illustrated it. Then he had Derek make four copies of each page, so he could staple them together, making four copies of the same book. Then he took the little table and chair set outside on the sidewalk with his newly published books. He put up a sign that said, “$1.” (He’s been trying to earn up money to buy a tarantula, and he only has $5 left. I told him he could earn up the rest of the money by doing chores, but apparently it was easier to write and illustrate a book, publish it, then sell it on the sidewalk where no one drives by.)

Thinking about our neighbors, it was then that Derek realized the content of the book. Here is what it said: (typos and misspellings included)
That’s not my Dad. It’s hair is to gray. (Picture of a man with gray hair, beard and mustache.)
That’s not my Dad. His skin is to brown. (Picture of a man with a REALLY brown face.)
That’s not my Dad. It’s shoes are to black. (Picture of legs wearing black shoes.)
That’s my Dad. His eyes are blue. (Picture of one blue eye. Ironically, Derek does not have blue eyes.)
The End
We live next door to a family from South America on one side, and an Asian couple on the other side. Derek was worried about them getting offended if they saw the book (due to the brown skin page), so he told Quincy he would buy all four copies of the book: one for each Grandma, one for him, and one for Mom. Quincy was really disappointed until he counted his money.

5:00 PM—Quincy was getting bored. I could tell this because whenever he gets bored, he starts to get creative. The next thing I knew, Xander was on a leash. Quincy had gotten a jump rope from the basement and tied it around Xander’s waist. Quincy was leading him around the house and Xander was following along (he can walk now, by the way). Quincy said, “I love having a baby for a pet!”

7:00 PM—During dinner, Quincy announced that Mom was too fat to wear a bikini. You’re not getting dessert, kid.