Aiden: "Mom, there's a fly on you, I'm gonna have to punch you on the back!"
....................................................................
Jonah: (to the adorable 3 year old Jonathan) "I'm going to be a dragon tonight for Trunk-or-Treat."
Jonathan: (in all seriousness) "Don't fire me okay."
Jonah: (equally serious) "Don't worry, I won't fire you."
....................................................................
Aiden: (en route to Kolbi and Jonah's school) "Mom are we going to pick up the Monkins?"
...................................................................
Kolbi: (scouring through her trick-or-treat bag) "Mom!! I got Mike & Likes! Those are my favorites! Even though I've never tried them before."
....................................................................
Aiden woke in the night with a bad dream. After putting him back to bed, I crawled back into mine.
Chris: (mumbles something)
Me: "hmmm?"
Chris: (sitting up and leaning over me) "con da gincha de gambo?"
Me: ( *???* ) "um, yeah."
Chris: (pats my arm three times, then rolls over)
Me: *snicker*
**I include this under the title of Out of the Mouths of Babes because I think Chris is a babe!**
......................................................
Lance: Sunflower seeds taste like tater tots.
Isaac: Can I have some more tater tot seeds?
**both are boys from our babysitting swap**
......................................................
Oct 22, 2007
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Where in the world did October go??????? Ok, so I'm a bit behind on my blogging. I have a plethora of ideas, but I've had zippo time to actually post. I will attempt to be better, but don't hold your breath. :)
Let's catch up on what's been happening these last few weeks, shall we?
The Good:
The Bad:
The Ugly:
Let's catch up on what's been happening these last few weeks, shall we?
The Good:
- Friday was a big day for Chris. He finally got the results from the Board Tests he took the beginning of September. He passed with flying colors! I knew he would and I'm grateful he can take that weight off his shoulders now. He also aced two other tests he took of Friday! What a stud! Way to go hon!
- Christmas came early for me and Kolbi this year. Some rich family decided their daughter or the mom needed an entire new fall wardrobe and GAVE AWAY their old stuff. Guess who ended up with it? Ya me! Chris brought home four big Glad bags of amazing stuff! Abercrombie & Fitch, American Eagle, Polo, Hollister, Express, Etc. Stuff I only buy once in a blue moon from the clearance rack if it's been marked down three times. Luckily it was almost all my size or Kolbi's. I counted 20 new tops in one bag alone--just the tip of the iceberg! Merry Christmas to me eh? Kolbi got hooked up too. One bag contained a ton of dress up clothes (apparently another daughter was in dance for many years) and the outfits fit her perfectly. She's all set for Halloween this year! She also got some clothes that will fit her next year (Children's place, Gap kids, Old Navy, etc). I feel like I just won the lottery or a shopping spree at the mall! I've never owned so many clothes at one time in my life let alone so many NICE things! Talk about huge blessings!
- We live two miles from Alliance Gateway airport and they had their annual Air Show this weekend. Chris crammed his studying in in the morning and we all headed out just after lunch. Fun was had by all and I will have to post pics later--it was awesome to see the Blue Angels! Afterwards we picked up some junk/fast food and headed home to watch Surf's Up picnic style in our living room. The kids had a ball. Cute show, yucky food (but I didn't have to cook so I don't care), fun family day!
- Enrichment night was Thursday night. It was nice to get away without kiddos for a while. The best part though was that they served a bunch of delicious soups, corn bread, and apple cobbler (all yummy!) but there wasn't a HUGE turnout so there was a lot left over. I know an amazing family that's really struggling financially due to some bad breaks recently and my heart really goes out to them. Oft times, they go hungry for lack of money for food. I always wish I could help them out more, but just don't have the resources myself. Well, I got to be an instrument in the Lord's hands by taking a lot of the extra food over to this family's house afterwards. The look on the parent's faces was so touching. The Lord really does know each of us and uses other people to bless us. What a testimony builder! I got to feel a little bit like my amazing friend Amy who is always jumping at the chance to bless people's lives (just check out her site and you'll know what I mean).
The Bad:
- We've been dealing with the fall sickies lately. Nothing huge so far, Zoe's been transformed into a slimy slug. She leaves a trail of green snot behind her where ever she goes Obviously she spends a lot of time cuddled up to me--I've been SLIMED!! Jonah, after complaining all morning his tummy hurt, hurled in the car on the way to drop Kolbi off for school. To my much relief, he'd been giving me warning all morning so his new best friend, the big green puke bowl, was accompanying him and served it's purpose. Not a drop in the car *whew!* He acts like nothing ever happened now, but I was supposed to watch all the kiddos for the babysitting swap this morning and had to bow out. Sorry girls!
The Ugly:
- You know how you put a baby in the pool with a super-absorbent diaper on and it expands to a 1000 times it's size? Well, we had an indoor demonstration this morning. Zoe drank lots of water this morning and, well, you get the picture. Unfortunately, before I could change her, she managed to snag her diaper on something and yucky diaper gel fell out all over the floor. Say it with me now, EEEEEEEWWWWWWW!!!!! Yeah, not fun! That'll learn me to wait to change her eh? The girl's slimy from both ends! Time to get out the rain slickers!
Oct 10, 2007
Lazy, lazy , lazy, lazy, lazy, lazy
Hi, my name is Alicia, and I am a slacker.
*say it with me now* "Hello Alicia!"
The cat's out of the bag--I am a certified slacker. I feel like Shel Silverstein's "Lazy, lazy , lazy, lazy, lazy, lazy Jane" (she wants a drink of water so she waits, and waits, and waits, and waits, and waits for it to rain). I can't seem to find the motivation to even attempt to keep up with my ever messy house. The last two nights I have taken my slacking desires to an all time low. If it weren't for the hubby waiting in the wings to clean the kitchen (something I abhor), we would all be floating in a sea of crusty plates, slimy utensils, spotted glassware *gasp*, crumbs, and the ants that march under my back door to wallow in said mess. That's not even mentioning the leaning tower of laundry next to my washer, the toys dangerously strewn about the house just waiting for an unsuspecting foot to impale, or the entire rain forest of papers the kids bring home from school that I haven't a clue what to do with. Anybody have a spare housekeeper they'd be willing to loan me for the day? Maybe two? Okay, a week tops!
Lazy, lazy , lazy, lazy, lazy, lazy Alicia . . .
*say it with me now* "Hello Alicia!"
The cat's out of the bag--I am a certified slacker. I feel like Shel Silverstein's "Lazy, lazy , lazy, lazy, lazy, lazy Jane" (she wants a drink of water so she waits, and waits, and waits, and waits, and waits for it to rain). I can't seem to find the motivation to even attempt to keep up with my ever messy house. The last two nights I have taken my slacking desires to an all time low. If it weren't for the hubby waiting in the wings to clean the kitchen (something I abhor), we would all be floating in a sea of crusty plates, slimy utensils, spotted glassware *gasp*, crumbs, and the ants that march under my back door to wallow in said mess. That's not even mentioning the leaning tower of laundry next to my washer, the toys dangerously strewn about the house just waiting for an unsuspecting foot to impale, or the entire rain forest of papers the kids bring home from school that I haven't a clue what to do with. Anybody have a spare housekeeper they'd be willing to loan me for the day? Maybe two? Okay, a week tops!
Lazy, lazy , lazy, lazy, lazy, lazy Alicia . . .
Oct 2, 2007
Oh the drama!
Ah, the joys of motherhood!!! Today, little man Aiden is much better. After a good night's sleep, he woke up with a smile on his angelic little face. While he still pulls typical 3-year-old stunts, and he is certainly no Ghandi, he is back to his normal self. Halleleujah!!
Zoe is another story. Yesterday she wasn't bad for Zoe. In fact, considering how tired she was, she was downright good. Zoe can hold her own in the tantrum department, let me tell ya. One would even think she invented the tantrum, as skilled as she is at it. Today she seems to have taken a page from Brother Aiden's gospel and has created her own religion from it. Whoeee! Watch out DFW, Hurricane Zoe is threatening to hit! That girl wants what she wants and that's ALL that she wants! Oh, and she wants it STAT! How does one so young become so versed in such gigantic drama?
Zoe is another story. Yesterday she wasn't bad for Zoe. In fact, considering how tired she was, she was downright good. Zoe can hold her own in the tantrum department, let me tell ya. One would even think she invented the tantrum, as skilled as she is at it. Today she seems to have taken a page from Brother Aiden's gospel and has created her own religion from it. Whoeee! Watch out DFW, Hurricane Zoe is threatening to hit! That girl wants what she wants and that's ALL that she wants! Oh, and she wants it STAT! How does one so young become so versed in such gigantic drama?
Oct 1, 2007
**Small one for sale
*disclaimer* this post is rather lengthy and describes exceedingly unpleasant events. It is rated PG-13 for mild language (ok, that was only unvoiced in my head) and the pervasive desire to beat small children. If you have a weak constitution, taxed adrenal glands, or are pregnant in anticipation of a wonderful mothering experience, it is recommended that you hit next blog in the task bar and move on swiftly.
My Beloved husband has an amazing brain. He has rooms and rooms of storage up there, filled with, I imagine, millions of filing cabinets overflowing with manilla folders chock-full of information. He also has an amazing ability to access and recall the information stored in those files. One rather large file includes long-forgotten jingles and songs from his childhood. Usually, I'll be going along in a blissful empty-headed state when he starts whistling/singing one of his tunes. It promptly lodges in that space between my ears and bounces around like an Atari Pong game for the rest of the day. Today, one such song has been stuck in my head. I particularly refer to a song he occasionally sings that goes something like this: "Small one, small one, small one for sale. One piece of silver, small one for sale."
In my mind, instead of a small donkey, I picture a small monkey named Aiden. What a day this small one has had! I'm experimenting with a babysitting exchange with some sisters in the ward. This morning was my opportunity to load my kids on someone else for 2 and a half hours. What a joy to have that time to myself! It felt really surreal as though my mind couldn't quite accept that I was actually alone. If I can survive the one day in two weeks that all of the little ones descend upon my house, this could be a really wonderful thing. But I digress. Aiden, Zoe and Jonah went to a friends house and had a blast playing with a plethora of friends. Afterwards, I picked them up with picnic lunch in tow and we ate it at the playground before we took Jonah to school. After eating, they played hard on the playground, then we dropped a very sweaty Jonah off at kindergarten. It was a very fun and lovely morning. Within moments, however, of this peaceful scene, the swirling vortex of exhausted 3 year old devilry (that will forever be referred to in the history books as Hurricane Aiden 2007) hit and savagely wiped out the once peaceful and unsuspecting greater Northeast Tarrant County.
We had to make a trip to the library (or as I often refer to it as "the place where my panic attacks reside"). Most days, trips to the library are a daunting task, to put it mildly. Today was no different. In the parking lot, Aiden started off the trip with exceptional gymnastic skill, executing a perfect double tantrum with a full twist, followed by a double back, double twist wet-noodle maneuver. We opened up negotiations, whereupon he agreed to be a good boy (no tantrums, screaming, whining) and stay right by my side.
Within moments of entering the library, however, he reneged on his part of the bargain and all-out war started. He wanted to get a particular movie, when I said no, he launched the dvd with all the brute-strength he could muster, onto the floor. I am still battling with a cough and the sharp intake of breath that followed such an unacceptable and shocking move sent me into a furious coughing fit. I picked him up in a football hold, grabbed the stroller with Zoe in it, and swiftly walked to a secluded corner of the library where I could hack my lungs out in solitude. As I desperately searched through the diaper bag, tears streaming from my eyes, for a cough lozenge, he misinterpreted the move to mean I was searching for the keys to drag him out to the car. Aiden has no volume button, the darn knob broke off in the birth canal, and we haven't been able to find a jury-rigged replacement. At full volume, he began to scream, "no mom, not the keys, I'll be good!" This illicited some dirty looks from a little old lady peeking at the scene through the rows of books in the mystery aisle, who no doubt thought I was planning to beat my errant child with my keychain.
Once the coughing subsided, Aiden and I once again opened up negotiations. He would stay buckled firmly in the double stroller the rest of the trip, throw no more fits, talk quietly, and apologize for throwing the dvd on the floor. In exchange, I would let him live to see another day. The rest of the trip was uneventful *whew*, (both children were uncharictaristically quiet and exhausted) with the exception of a sweet lady commenting how content and quiet the kids were and Zoe feeling the need to prove her wrong by screaming down the next three aisles.
We survived the library and, in kamikaze fashion, I felt the need to take my children to the store. Most went well, but at the end of the trip, there was a problem with the self-check out machine and it wouldn't accept my card. As I worked with the store manager to remedy the situation, little man saw the Coinstar machine against the wall. Mesmerized by the sound of all the clinking coins, his eyes glazed over and he began to chant, "I want money." Each repetition increased in volume and fervor until he was in full-on tantrum mode, whining at the top of his voice (keep in mind when the volume knob broke off, his volume was set at extra loud) "I WANT MONEY!!!" The store manager shot me sympathetic looks, and appearing increasingly uncomfortable, she swiftly fixed the problem and sent us on our merry way.
Once safely home, I speedily launched my Quiet Time Torpedoes. He dodged, hedged, whined, cried, but finally I had target lock and he went down in a brilliant blaze. My joy was short lived however, since he seems to be made of trampoline material and he kept springing right back out of bed. "Mom, I'm done now!" "Mom, I need another book." "Mom, I need to go at the bathroom." His stalling tactics worked long enough for time to run out (which is just what I wanted to do) and we had to go pick up the kids from school.
Home again, home again, jiggity-jig, I settled the mini monkeys in with a small snack while I began the lovely task of cleaning up for and preparing dinner. In a moment of 3-year-old dexterity, Aiden knocked Jonah's mug full of sunflower seeds off the table, which shattered upon impact with the chair and floor. I scooted the kids out of the kitchen and attempted to vacuum the mess. I say attempted because the vacuum, upon coming in contact with the shards of glass and seeds, promptly spit them out and sent them flying across the floor. What can I say but "well it certainly does suck!"
While in the throws of cursing the vacuum and dislodging shards of ceramic from my foot (brilliant to do it bare-footed, I know) Little man noticed the baby peacefully looking at a book. He promptly walked up, grabbed it, and started pulling it away from her to the tune of her screeching like a tornado siren signaling the world's end. When I stopped him, his defense was, "I WANTED TO LOOK AT IT!" Meanwhile my head seems to be filling up with some sort of expanding gelatinous muck that is threatening to make my noggin EXPLODE any second in such a way that would put Boston Pops Forth of July celebration to shame. It was at this time that The Beloved called on his way home from school. Too busy to answer, Kolbi answered it for me and urgently relayed the message "under heavy enemy fire! Please send reinforcements!"
Aiden spent dinner-preperation time examining extensively every crack and nuance of the time-out corner. He did his penance and the rest of the evening went fairly smoothly, especially since the cavalry boldly rode in to my rescue. Needless to say, bedtime came early and with much swiftness. Small one was sent off to dreamland with hugs and assurances of love. *Whew* yet another day he miraculously survived to see the morning sun. Suddenly from the other room, a three-year-old voice could be heard screaming some sort of obscenities, willing them to penetrate through the bottom of his brother's bunk bed.
*SIGH* "Small one, small one, small one for sale. One piece of silver, small one for sale."
My Beloved husband has an amazing brain. He has rooms and rooms of storage up there, filled with, I imagine, millions of filing cabinets overflowing with manilla folders chock-full of information. He also has an amazing ability to access and recall the information stored in those files. One rather large file includes long-forgotten jingles and songs from his childhood. Usually, I'll be going along in a blissful empty-headed state when he starts whistling/singing one of his tunes. It promptly lodges in that space between my ears and bounces around like an Atari Pong game for the rest of the day. Today, one such song has been stuck in my head. I particularly refer to a song he occasionally sings that goes something like this: "Small one, small one, small one for sale. One piece of silver, small one for sale."
In my mind, instead of a small donkey, I picture a small monkey named Aiden. What a day this small one has had! I'm experimenting with a babysitting exchange with some sisters in the ward. This morning was my opportunity to load my kids on someone else for 2 and a half hours. What a joy to have that time to myself! It felt really surreal as though my mind couldn't quite accept that I was actually alone. If I can survive the one day in two weeks that all of the little ones descend upon my house, this could be a really wonderful thing. But I digress. Aiden, Zoe and Jonah went to a friends house and had a blast playing with a plethora of friends. Afterwards, I picked them up with picnic lunch in tow and we ate it at the playground before we took Jonah to school. After eating, they played hard on the playground, then we dropped a very sweaty Jonah off at kindergarten. It was a very fun and lovely morning. Within moments, however, of this peaceful scene, the swirling vortex of exhausted 3 year old devilry (that will forever be referred to in the history books as Hurricane Aiden 2007) hit and savagely wiped out the once peaceful and unsuspecting greater Northeast Tarrant County.
We had to make a trip to the library (or as I often refer to it as "the place where my panic attacks reside"). Most days, trips to the library are a daunting task, to put it mildly. Today was no different. In the parking lot, Aiden started off the trip with exceptional gymnastic skill, executing a perfect double tantrum with a full twist, followed by a double back, double twist wet-noodle maneuver. We opened up negotiations, whereupon he agreed to be a good boy (no tantrums, screaming, whining) and stay right by my side.
Within moments of entering the library, however, he reneged on his part of the bargain and all-out war started. He wanted to get a particular movie, when I said no, he launched the dvd with all the brute-strength he could muster, onto the floor. I am still battling with a cough and the sharp intake of breath that followed such an unacceptable and shocking move sent me into a furious coughing fit. I picked him up in a football hold, grabbed the stroller with Zoe in it, and swiftly walked to a secluded corner of the library where I could hack my lungs out in solitude. As I desperately searched through the diaper bag, tears streaming from my eyes, for a cough lozenge, he misinterpreted the move to mean I was searching for the keys to drag him out to the car. Aiden has no volume button, the darn knob broke off in the birth canal, and we haven't been able to find a jury-rigged replacement. At full volume, he began to scream, "no mom, not the keys, I'll be good!" This illicited some dirty looks from a little old lady peeking at the scene through the rows of books in the mystery aisle, who no doubt thought I was planning to beat my errant child with my keychain.
Once the coughing subsided, Aiden and I once again opened up negotiations. He would stay buckled firmly in the double stroller the rest of the trip, throw no more fits, talk quietly, and apologize for throwing the dvd on the floor. In exchange, I would let him live to see another day. The rest of the trip was uneventful *whew*, (both children were uncharictaristically quiet and exhausted) with the exception of a sweet lady commenting how content and quiet the kids were and Zoe feeling the need to prove her wrong by screaming down the next three aisles.
We survived the library and, in kamikaze fashion, I felt the need to take my children to the store. Most went well, but at the end of the trip, there was a problem with the self-check out machine and it wouldn't accept my card. As I worked with the store manager to remedy the situation, little man saw the Coinstar machine against the wall. Mesmerized by the sound of all the clinking coins, his eyes glazed over and he began to chant, "I want money." Each repetition increased in volume and fervor until he was in full-on tantrum mode, whining at the top of his voice (keep in mind when the volume knob broke off, his volume was set at extra loud) "I WANT MONEY!!!" The store manager shot me sympathetic looks, and appearing increasingly uncomfortable, she swiftly fixed the problem and sent us on our merry way.
Once safely home, I speedily launched my Quiet Time Torpedoes. He dodged, hedged, whined, cried, but finally I had target lock and he went down in a brilliant blaze. My joy was short lived however, since he seems to be made of trampoline material and he kept springing right back out of bed. "Mom, I'm done now!" "Mom, I need another book." "Mom, I need to go at the bathroom." His stalling tactics worked long enough for time to run out (which is just what I wanted to do) and we had to go pick up the kids from school.
Home again, home again, jiggity-jig, I settled the mini monkeys in with a small snack while I began the lovely task of cleaning up for and preparing dinner. In a moment of 3-year-old dexterity, Aiden knocked Jonah's mug full of sunflower seeds off the table, which shattered upon impact with the chair and floor. I scooted the kids out of the kitchen and attempted to vacuum the mess. I say attempted because the vacuum, upon coming in contact with the shards of glass and seeds, promptly spit them out and sent them flying across the floor. What can I say but "well it certainly does suck!"
While in the throws of cursing the vacuum and dislodging shards of ceramic from my foot (brilliant to do it bare-footed, I know) Little man noticed the baby peacefully looking at a book. He promptly walked up, grabbed it, and started pulling it away from her to the tune of her screeching like a tornado siren signaling the world's end. When I stopped him, his defense was, "I WANTED TO LOOK AT IT!" Meanwhile my head seems to be filling up with some sort of expanding gelatinous muck that is threatening to make my noggin EXPLODE any second in such a way that would put Boston Pops Forth of July celebration to shame. It was at this time that The Beloved called on his way home from school. Too busy to answer, Kolbi answered it for me and urgently relayed the message "under heavy enemy fire! Please send reinforcements!"
Aiden spent dinner-preperation time examining extensively every crack and nuance of the time-out corner. He did his penance and the rest of the evening went fairly smoothly, especially since the cavalry boldly rode in to my rescue. Needless to say, bedtime came early and with much swiftness. Small one was sent off to dreamland with hugs and assurances of love. *Whew* yet another day he miraculously survived to see the morning sun. Suddenly from the other room, a three-year-old voice could be heard screaming some sort of obscenities, willing them to penetrate through the bottom of his brother's bunk bed.
*SIGH* "Small one, small one, small one for sale. One piece of silver, small one for sale."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)