Heard in the Trenches (mostly Milo)

Milo was throwing a fit about something & Chris tried to comfort him.  Milo pushed him away and said, "doe away, I'm woing a wit."

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Milo was playing with a little Lego guy and talking to it.  I could hear him ask, "are you a bad duy (guy)?  Are you a feetie (sweetie) pie?  Are you a little feetie pie?"

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We found a small spider in the bottom of our laundry basket.  Milo was in awe.  He admired it for a moment then turned his eyes up toward me and asked,  "are we smash him?"   Then, after I turned my back to do more laundry, he walked to the pantry and returned with a roll of parchment paper, saying,  "now we can smash him?"   I ended up dumping the spider outside to which he began to cry.   "Him's a Mino pider (Milo spider) him needs his mommy!"  I finally consoled his little broken heart by convincing him the baby spider had found his mommy spider.  It was a topic of discussion for days.

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Milo:  "what's that?"  Pointing to a scratch on the wall. 

Me:  "it's a scratch."

Milo:  "otay (okay)."  Looks thoughtful for moment, " should we put a  Bam-baid (band-aid) on it?"  

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Zoe:  "I always remember my birthday."   

Me:  "oh yea?  When is it?"

Zoe:  "May 3rd."

Me:  "what year?"

Zoe:  "um...I have it every year."

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Milo woke up chipper & decided he wanted to wake up the kids ("the guys" as he calls them).  I opened the bedroom door for him, he entered the room with a happy little skip to his step and pronounced loudly, "Hi duys (guys),  I'm tute (cute)!!!"

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Milo was rolling around on our bed one morning and suddenly buried his face and started saying a prayer.  It went like this..."Heavny Fader,  tank you for a good day.  For mommy, and daddy, and tids (kids) and mommy, and Mino (Milo), and mommy is tockate (chocolate), and Mino is a dude. In the name, Desus Tryst (Jesus Christ) amen." 

Chris and I are suppressing giggles.  Then he looks up and says,  " I said, Desus Tryst amen."

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The kids have randomly been singing the song, "sunshine, lollipops & rainbows everywhere..."  Milo picks up on everything so he's been singing it a lot too.  This morning he was talking away and rather randomly said, "I love you Modder (mother)."   Giggling, I replied, "I love you too Son."  He paused, cocked his head to the side and said, "I'n not sunsine, yollypops and yainbows eveywear..."  

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Sometimes I forget how different my kids are.  My mom was preparing some Rhodes bake & serve bread, Zoe walked up & peeked in the pan. The following conversation ensued....

Z:  "What is THAT?!!"   

Grandma replied,  "bread."

Z:  "why is it WHITE?!!"

G:  "cause some bread is white."

Z:   Pause.... "Weird!"

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The kids were talking to milo about what if the new baby is a boy/girl.  

J:  "what if the baby is a girl?  What would you do with her?"

M:  "play reen-aroun-na-wosies and go shopping."

J: "what if it's a baby boy?"

M:  "& teach baby boy ABCs and do rock-n-roll yike dis,  be-ner-ner-ner (dancing around)"

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Milo saw a man coming out of a National Guard recruitment office in camos when we were out & about.  "Mom," he said, "dat duy's wearing a dinosaur shirt!!"  

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I don't remember what Chris & I were watching, but Milo was in the room kind of just playing and doing his own thing.  After the show was over, Milo started telling me about the show....

"Dat guy was dead & the bad duy was changing his britches & he's had poopy pants."

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I was trying to put Milo down for a nap....yeah, wasn't working.  It especially came to a halt when Zoe entered the room fussing about eating her broccoli.  I told Milo, "let's go out" (of the room).  To which he replied,  

"Otay, Yet me put dis toy back an we go out and see Zoe frowing a fit about broccy (broccoli) is nasty."

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Chris was watching Milo build with duplo bricks and observed, "He has my chin.  I just noticed that."   Then he playfully pinched Milo's chin and declared, "give me back my chin, that's my chin!"   To which Milo replied, "dis is not your tin (chin), dis (poking Chris's chin) is your tin."  Then he returned his attention back to his block building, quietly tossing in,  "Duh."  

Heard in the trenches

We have some issues in our household with staying seated at the dinner table and having some semblance of etiquette, as evidenced by Zoe's prayer: "Please help us to eat and eat and not play at the table. It's not a toy, it's a table to put food on . . . . Amen"
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The kids were *ehem* "eating lunch" and their conversation went like this:

Zoe: "Jonah, this carrot is as big as a GIANT!"

Jonah: "How big is a giant?"

Zoe: "Hmmm. . . . like a hundred pounds!"

Jonah: "I think mom even weighs a hundred pounds. Don't you mom?"

Me: "Um, let me think about that . . . Yeah."

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Zoe ran over her foot with the door . . . "Ow!" She winced, "I hurted my thumb toe!"

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Mimi (Chris's mom) asked "Zoe, why are you so cute?" Zoe replied matter-of-factly, "Because I took a shower today."

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Kolbi painted Zoe's little fingernails pink. Zoe held up her hands in admiration and stated, "When the boys see my fingers is painted they will want to kiss me on the lips!"

Dad gasped and said, "They'd better not or I'll slap them silly!"

Zoe replied incredulously, "Why daddy? I LOVE boys!"

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After walking through the park, dodging goose poop on the ground, watching the geese graze and swim in he pond, we found some large webbed footprints in the sand.

"Aiden," I asked, "Do you know what made those footprints?"

"Yep!" He replied confidently, "Chickens!!"
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Letter to Mr. Rain

Dear Mr. Rain,

I'm afraid our love affair must come to an end. While we've enjoyed some good times together. . . you've dazzled me with beautiful flowers and tended to my gorgeous green yard . . . you've won over the hearts of my children ~ who love to run through your downpours and the puddles they make . . . and while your dark beauty intrigues and frightens me, it's time to end this charade. I could never love you the way I love Mr. Sunshine. My love for him Eclipses the deep affection I feel for you. I'm afraid my heart will always truly belong to him. But, before parting, I have but a small request. Could you still stay in my life and visit me occasionally so I can selfishly enjoy the benefits of your friendship, whilst giving my heart to my true love, the Sunshine? I know this is a lot to ask, but please consider it. I might even let you marry one of my daughters some day to sweeten the deal.

Sincerely,

Miss Solar Powered

Where baby dragons come from

We took the kids to see "How to Drain Your Dragon" (as Zoe calls it) and I got to sit next to Aiden. I was really enjoying the part where **Spoiler** the kid was bonding with the dragon and I leaned over and whispered in Aiden's ear . . .

Me: "I really love this show"

Aiden: "Me too!"

Me: "I want a baby dragon for a pet!"

Aiden: "Me too!"

Me: "Where do we get some of those?"

Aiden: (looking thoughtful for a moment) "California I think."

Heard in the trenches

Lady Gaga seems to be on the brain around here. Jonah came home from school with the following gem . . .

Jonah: "Mom, how do you wake up Lady Gaga?"

Me: "Huh?" (clueless as usual)

Jonah: "poke-er face."

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Zoe too has gotten into the song too and I often find her singing and dancing to it. I finally heard the words she was singing today . . .

She was walking around singing, "Can't eat my, can't eat my, booger face. . . " Then she stops, looks up at me and says, "Mom, that's gross that she sings about a booger face! Ewww"

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Zoe had gone outside and was sitting on the bench swing with Mimi (Chris's mom). I noticed that her toys were still spread out all over the living room, so I called out to her, "Zoe, are you done with these toys?" "Yes," she says as she imperiously waves her hand at me like she's shooing away a pesky fly, "You can pick them up now."

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Chris told the kids we wanted to take them to see "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" (Big mistake by the way) and Aiden, who is always only half listening pipes in, "Diarrhea wimpy kid!?!"

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Zoe was singing a primary song we sing to people on their birthday. It says, "You've had a birthday, shout hooray! . . . " Zoe's version goes a little more like this . . . "You've had a birthday, shout for Wayne . . . "

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The cluelessness of Mom

Zoe has taken notice of my appearance lately. She notices when my hair is undone or unruly and she tells me that I didn't do a good job, only she does a good job. Then she runs to get the hairbrush to fix her poor, clueless mom.

This morning, I had my hair pulled back in a sloppy bun with an assortment of clips in my hair to keep my bangs out of the way so I could wash and apply make-up to my face. I looked decidedly Medusa-like I'll admit. Zoe walked into the bathroom, climbed up on the step stool and watched intently for a few minutes.

"Mom, you look weird!" She states.

"Thanks a lot Zoe, that's very sweet of you to say" I reply facetiously.

Obviously flummoxed that her subtle hint didn't make it through my thick skull, she puts her hands on her hips and says "Weird means NOT pretty."

Heard in the Trenches

I've been such a neglectful blogger, by way of peace offering to the blog-gods, I bring to the table the many "Heard in the trenches" quotes I've been amassing. Enjoy :)

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Zoe was playing with a toy car (the Flintstone kind you sit in and use your feet to move around). She impatiently honked at me and announced "Mooo-oom, that means I need gas".

I came over and pretended to fill-er'-up. Then I held out my hand to her and said, "That will be 25 million dollars." She looks at my hand, reaches over and pretends to grab something out of my hand, then put it into her pocket.

Me: (laughing) "No Zoe, you're supposed to give me money!"

Zoe: "Oh yeah, I forgot . . . you don't have any money."

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Aiden and Jonah were sitting at the table eating when Jonah sneezed. Aiden started freaking out . . . . "Mom! Jonah Bless-you'd all over my cashews!!!"

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Overheard:

Aiden: "I wish I was a monkey."

Jonah: "Why?"

Aiden: "Cause then I'd always have to eat bananas."

Zoe: "No Aiden, we're peoples (pointing to her hand and arm as if this would prove her point), see peoples."

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When we visited the Tulsa Zoo, we stopped at the flamingo exhibit. Zoe was fascinated and ran right up to the fence and poked her face through the bars. I could hear her saying, "Hew-wo fwamingo! Hew-wo!" She paused and turned to me, "He's not talkin' to me!"

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Aiden and Jonah were playing with their matchbox cars when I heard Jonah tell Aiden:
"Aiden, this gold camaro (pronounced ka-mar-o) costs infinity dollars. Bumblebee, the yellow camaro, costs google dollars which is $300 dollars less than infinity."

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Aiden has a serious problem with staying on his bum in his chair during meals. Hence I'm constantly telling him to "Glue your bum to your chair." One particular day he kept popping out of his chair (effectively making a big mess and dropping crumb trails everytime he got up). I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he'd gotten out of his chair again and, in exasperation I said, "Aiden, why are you out of your chair again?! Do you want to die today?"

He pronounced, "I'm getting a napkin to clean my face . . . I'm not a di-er!"

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Zoe has a pencil that changes colors with body heat. She lamented to me one day that "This pencil is not change colors, that's why it's needs new batteries."

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Aiden was playing a game with markers. He was using them as magic wands, walking around the house pronouncing, "I turn you into a frog", etc. I overheard him saying, "I turn you into something that looks just like you." (Pause) "Hey, it worked!"

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Aiden and Zoe were playing "Go fish" and I told Zoe (who'd never played before and doesn't understand the subtleties of the game), "Okay Zoe, it's your turn. Ask him if he has a card that matches one of your cards." Zoe nods and says, "Aiden . . . do you have a card that matches one of my cards?"

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Aiden (out of the blue) turns to me and says, "My favorite character on Cinderella is Angry."

Kolbi: (rolling her eyes and in her best pre-teeny-bopper, somewhat disgusted voice) "Aiden, don't you mean Grumpy on Snow White?"

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On a particularly rainy day, I could hear Aiden and Zoe going around the house singing, "It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is BORING." (Giggling) I asked them where they heard that and they proudly pronounced, "Grandpa Pete taught us that!"

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Pop (Chris's dad) (in a very sweet and bonding moment) was reading a book to Aiden. When it was through, Aiden looked up at him and said, "That was great Pop . . . Now can you turn on the t.v. for me?"

The surprising perks of law enforcement

I find we have some of the funniest conversations in the car . . .

As we were driving along the other day, we saw a police motorcycle with flashing lights ahead of us. Aiden instantly sat up and took notice. "I want to be a police when I get big as a dad!" He announces. His enthusiasm was adorable, and while I have huge amounts of respect for the hard work and danger law enforcers face, the thought of my little boy running around in dangerous situations all the time is not my idea of a wonderful career choice. I'd much rather he choose a nice, safe career. One where his momma doesn't have to worry about him so much.

Then a discussion ensued when Jonah asked, "Can you choose whatever you want to be when you grow up?" (With genuine awe in his voice) I told him that he could choose what he wanted to be, but that whatever he chose, he'd have to work hard to learn how to do it. "Policemen have do to a lot of training" I explained. "Veterinarians have to go to school to learn about the animals, Chiropractors have to learn all about the human body to help it, Architects have to go to college to learn how to design building. So yes, you can choose, but you have to work hard for it."

"Hmmm." Jonah replied, "cool!"

About ten minutes later, after a lengthy silence for Aiden, he pipes in . . . "Mom, the reason I want to be a police when I get big as dad, is because I want my own key."

Me: (Not sure I heard him right) "Key?"

Aiden: "Yes. I've always wanted my own key."

Me: (Smiling) "You can do lots of different jobs and have your own key." ("Something that doesn't involve shootings, high-speed car chases, and bad guys" I add silently)

Aiden: "Really?!"

Jonah: "But Aiden, if you're a police man, you get your own gun! A real gun!"

Aiden: "Wow! Then I definitely want to be a police!!"


Geez! Your own key AND your own real gun! What job could compete with those awesome perks?!

Heard in the Trenches

The monkies love the Chipmunks Movie soundtrack and know most of the songs (the ones I let them listen to anyways). One is a remake of Funkytown that's quite fun. We were driving around and Zoe was singing "tak-a-wow-ee, tak-a-wow-wee" for the "Talk about it" part. Aiden turns to her and says, in a rather know-it-all manner. "Zoe. That's NOT how it goes. It says, (singing) "Taco-belly, taco-belly, taco-belly, ooo-yea!."
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We had a "cheat day" (our one night a week where we eat junk food ~ to find out why we're so strict on it, see this) . The next day Jonah was complaining that his tummy hurt.

Me: "It's probably the pizza you ate last night Bud. Your body hates it."

Dad: "It's called inflamation."

Aiden: "infer-bacon?"

Dad: "That's right Aiden, Infer-bacon."

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Aiden was getting into something he wasn't supposed to and Chris called him on it. Aiden turns around and says, "I know, I know. Calm down and you can have a sucker."
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Zoe and I were working on summer workbooks and her page was about matching. She was kind of struggling to understand so I was trying to help. She had a sticker banana and her choices were a row of clothes, a row of toys and a row of food. I asked, "Zoe, do we wear a banana?" She looks at me, puts her hands on her hips, and states, "No mom, dat's just cwazy."
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Zoe was psyched to go swimming in the XL kiddie pool we're sporting over here and she was prancing about in her swimsuit (or "swimsoup" as she calls it). It has a little bow on it that rests in the middle of her back. She skipped into the room and whilst flapping the bow with her little hands, announced, "Mom, I have wings on my swimsoup so I can fry!"

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Zoe was sitting on a bench on the back porch with me. She astutely observed, "Mom iss I stand up here, den I will fall down dere and den I will get my shirt all dirty."

Me: "Um, Yea! And get BIG ouches!"

Zoe: "Yesh, and dat will be cweepy (creepy)!

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Mimi was setting up a game of Memory for Aiden. He wanted someone to play with him so he was complaining, "This is too hard. I can't do this by myself."

Mimi: "I'm going to set you up because I know you can do this."

Me: "What are you talking about Aiden, You kick my booty at that game all the time!"

Aiden: (whispering aside to Mimi) "That's cause I cheat."
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Time to potty train? AAAAAGGGGHHH!!

Ok, so Zoe is almost 3. Don't even get me started on how insane it is that my baby is almost three because it blows my mind and frankly a gentle breeze makes my brain hurt.

I haven't made a big deal about potty training. After 3 kids, I don't see it as a big deal and I actually learned from past mistakes that pushing only begets pushing back. But more than that, I'm just not ready. She frequently tells me she needs to go potty (usually it's when I'm rushing like a mad woman to get breakfast ready and lunches packed and little people dressed and out the door to school or some other such craziness, all of which she wants me to stop and sit with her while she doesn't go potty), to which I sigh and say, "You have a diaper on, just go in that." I know, I'm a shoe-in for that glowing "Mother of the Year" award! I've already picked out the dress for the awards ceremony.

Aiden and Zoe have taken matters into their own hands. Aiden has become a bit of a mother hen to Zoe and likes to baby her. He's been taking her into the bathroom and helping her set up her little throne and encouraging her to go potty. She obliges willingly, even goes to him instead of distracted/careless mom when she has to go. Does she actually tinkle? Nary a drop. But it sure is fun! I know I should take advantage of her eagerness, but frankly, I think it's all just an excuse to release the pent up nudist in her.

~~Help!!~~

I'm invisible

A friend shared this with me and I thought it was Beautiful. I can totally identify!

I'm invisible.

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.

Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.

She's going ... she's going ... she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it.

I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
* No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
* These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
* They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
* The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."
And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want himto want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add,"You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Heard in the Trenches

Zoe was eating almonds and accidentally bit her cheek. She was consoled and calmed down. A few minutes later, she says, "Mom, I'n not talkin' to you. I'n talkin' to dese almonds."

Me: "Okay Zoe."

Zoe: (adopting a fierce scowl) "Almonds! You in big twouble!"
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Chris has been constantly thwarted in his attempts to open his Chiropractic office. There have been so many snags and he's been quite frustrated. So, when he walked into the room and announced, "Well I got two things done today. . . " I was thrilled for him.

"That's great hon, what were they?"

He looks at me with a wry grin and replies, "Diddly and Squat!"
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I'm afraid my Kolbi is now in the pre-teen note-writing phase of young girl-hood. It cracks me up and takes me back to my own girly-note-writing stage. I just had to share some of her fun notes . . . .

First of all, this goes back to Christmastime. I know, I'm a slacker. She brought it home from her primary class where apparently they were supposed to make a card with a home-made "gift" or promise for someone. This was her promise to me . . .How's that for selfless Christmas-spirit sacrifice?

I woke up from a Sunday afternoon nap during which Chris had taken the kids for a walk. On the counter was a small bowl full of little flowers and this written on a sticky note . . . (translation: Dear Mom, I hope you like the flowers even if they are dead. I LOVE you! Love, Kolbi)

Finally, my favorite and the most recent . . . It was covertly slipped into the back pocket of my jeans . . .
(Dear Mom,
There is a vary cute boy in my class.
And I don't know what to do about it.
Please help! He is ador-able!
(DON'T BREATH A WORD TO DAD! He'll W-I-G WIG!)
P.S. His name is Colton.)

Ah, young love! All I can say is Colton better watch out for Kolbi's Wig-wearin' dad!!
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Zoe was coloring and digging through the bag of random crayons. From the other room I hear her say, "Whoa!! Oh my goodness!! I LOVE pink! Pink! Pink! Pink!!"
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Zoe was sitting in her chair with a wash cloth. She'd hold it up in front of her face and you could hear her little voice say, "Peek-a-boo! Where are me?"
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Aiden, Zoe, and I were driving one day and I saw a car painted like a zebra as advertisement for something. I point it out to Aiden and he eagerly pipes in, "I want that when I'm big as a dad!" Then out comes the pouty lip, he folds his arms huffily, and in an angry, 'It's not fair' voice he declares . . . "But I won't get it!"

Surprised by this turn in the conversation, I ask, "Why not Aiden?"

"Because!" He pronounces hotly, "I'll be a Dad! And dad's don't get good presents for Christmas, only kids do! I'll just get a watch, or a tie or something boring like that!!"

Me: (Giggling) "You ain't kiddin' bud!"

Aiden, Aiden. Wherefore art thou Aiden?

I know Aiden doesn't hear me. I talk, and talk, and talk until I'm blue in the face and he doesn't hear me. I know his ears work. You say the word chocolate or pizza and his ears sprout satellite dishes that can pinpoint the sound of my voice to the exact geographic location. Ask him to do something for me? His ears shut completely off. I've known this for a while now ~ that he's deaf to my voice ~ but yesterday I finally got a glimpse into what he actually hears when I talk.

We were trying to head out the door to go to the library. I'm struggling to do a very wiggly Zoe's hair and I asked him to get his shoes and put them by the front door. He walks away and I don't see him for several minutes. When he returns I ask him if he took his shoes to the front door. "Oh! No! Just a minute." and he disappears down the hall again. Again he's absent for several minutes. When he returns I ask again, "did you put your shoes by the front door?"

"What?" He says as he absently begins digging in a drawer for something forbidden to play with.

My hands are caught up in the little rubber bands that are half in Zoe's hair as she's turning the sink on full blast and squirting soap all over her sleeve. "Did you put your shoes by the front door?" I repeat.


"No."

I'm counting to ten under my breath . . ."Why . . . not . . .?" I ask desperately trying to hang on to what's left of my sanity.

"You told me to take care of my dirty clothes. I did that."

I was shocked. I'd been asking him to do that all morning. Now he finally does it!? "Actually I asked you to get your shoes and put them by the front door." I state as I rescue the roll of toilet paper before Zoe can unwind the whole thing.

He stares blankly off into space. Then he proceeds to grill me with questions about Star Wars and if Wolverine can beat up a jedi. "Aiden," I interrupt, "Look at me." He looks over at my knees. "Look at my eyeballs!" I amend. It takes several seconds but he finally meets my gaze. I use my slow, deliberate voice, "Please . . take your shoes . . . to the front door." He nods and walks off.

Meanwhile, Zoe's attempting to climb up on the sink and kiss her reflection in the mirror. He returns quickly. "Did you get your shoes?" I ask.

"No." He replies.

I'm beyond exasperated at this point. "Why not!?" I ask in a decidedly not very loving mommy voice.

"Because!" He says in an equally exasperated tone, "You . . told me . . . to go . . . lock the front door!"

KILL Em!!!! . . . with kindness :)

Last night I woke up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. As I lay there in the darkness, willing myself back to sleep, my mind decided to traitorously stay awake, whilst replaying the many times I was a bad mommy and yelled at my kids that day. It had been one of those days where the children had developed a selective deafness that only seemed to tune out my voice. Where no amount of asking nicely, begging, warning, or pleading could get through the apparent fog that would blot out my voice and prevent it from meeting with their tympanic membranes. For some reason, the only time they could hear me was when I screamed at the top of my voice and adopted my "angry eyes". It was NOT a good day with the monkeys. In fact, there have been way too many Not Good days around here.

I was filled with sadness as I thought of all the times I yelled and how those words were so counter-productive. It wasn't deafness, it was self-defense. Maybe if I hadn't yelled so much to begin with, they would be more receptive to my voice? I thought of how wounded they must feel to have someone who is supposed to love you most yell at you all day. I put myself in their little shoes and began to consider how much it hurts when someone I love is mad at me. I tend to curl in on myself and slap up a big wall of self-defense. I get angry. I know I did something stupid. I already dislike myself for it and don't need someone I love pointing it out to me. I just want that person to remember (and to remind me) that I'm a good person. That, even if I did something so stupid that I would have had to have the intelligence of a rock, that that's not really me. I basically want to know that I'm a good person and that I just made a mistake, but that it doesn't affect my goodness or a smartness or love-able-ness.

Isn't that basically what my kids want? Don't they already know they did something wrong? Does my screaming fix anything or just make them erect their own wall of self-defense? Doesn't it just make them lash back while they're desperately wanting to know that I still love them, that they're good people who just made a mistake? Wouldn't I be much more effective if I talked to them about it in a loving way?

I began to see how everything has been spiraling out of control and how this has become a vicious cycle of me being overwhelmed, yelling at them to stop a bad behavior, they come away wounded from the encounter and shut down to prevent further hurt, then when I approach them again, they've lost respect for me and they're less receptive . . . I end up overwhelmed again . . . hence the yelling. It's sick. I started to pray. Pray for forgiveness and the strength to change. I prayed for inspiration and more love for these little people. I don't want to see them as a burden or the hard things in my life. They should be the greatest source of joy. They deserve to be treated like the amazing little people they are.

I thought about what I want most when I'm feeling wounded and out of control. The answer was . . . a hug, a kind word, an affirmation that I'm okay and still loved. Hence my new motto. Are you ready for this? IF THEY'RE HAVING A HARD TIME, GIVE 'EM A HUG!! I just kept playing it over and over in my mind. "If they're having a hard time, give 'em a hug!" Sounds simple right?

I got up the next morning, tired, but full of hope for a better day, more love for these little people, and more determination to fix the damage I'd slowly but surely been doing. Zoe was the first awake and by her surly demeanor, it was obvious she was up too early. Everytime she began to shriek, I hugged her (even when my tired, adrenally-taxed, thyroid-dead body wanted to strangle her). Jonah woke up all smiles (something I realized I don't see very often, probably because he's always expecting a berating--who would want to get up for that?). I pulled him in my lap and gave him a big hug, which multiplied his grin and my determination. I told him I knew I hadn't been a very nice mommy and that I was so sorry for ever yelling at him. That he was a good kid who deserved much better and that I was determined to be better for him. I told him I had a project and asked him if he'd like to join with me. He eagerly agreed and mission Kill 'Em With Kindness was born.

The rules are this . . .

• If someone is having a hard time, we give them a hug (Jonah ammended that tickles -or beatings as we often refer to them--work really well too).
  

• When we can't physically give them a hug (such as when we are at the kitchen table and should not be popping out of our chairs a million times) we will "Say a hug." Meaning, we think of something we like about that person and we tell them.
  

(I keep thinking about the part on The Incredibles where Bob and Helen Parr are running through the jungle. She's ticked at him and isn't hiding it. He says, "You keep trying to pick a fight, but I'm just so happy you're still alive!" It's hard to stay mad at someone when they can only say good things back!)

• Pray for that person.

• If we hurt someone, we apologize fast.
  

Simple right? In theory yes, but not always in practice. It's still not easy. Some moments my mantra is "You love this person, you don't want to kill them! You love this person, you don't want to kill them!" I'm still feeling overwhelmed all too often and Evil Mom slips out with her angry eyes and mean words. But I'm getting better at lasso-ing the wench and forcing her back in the bullpen. Hugs are more abundant, including kind words and tickles. It is SO not easy sometimes. But it is definitely worth it. I'm starting to see these times when my kids are out of control and choosing to do something that I can't stand as an opportunity to prove how much I love them. The times when the hubby gets on my nerves the most is an opportunity to show him love and build him up. When I'm in the right frame of mind, I'm not surrounded with annoyances and intrusions anymore, just opportunities to prove to these people that even when they are acting to most un-loveable, I still adore them and that they are good people who are just having a hard time. I'm beginning to recognize how many opportunities I have to build loving memories with the people I love the most. I want them to remember that when they were having a hard time, mom was always ready with a hug and reassurance. So there you have it . . . I'm gonna kill them! . . . With kindness!

How to make toddler soup

So, Zoe has a yeast rash on her bum that doesn't seem to want to go away. We were so desperate we tried the anti-yeast cream and it cleared up, but I can't stand using such harsh steroids on her little body. Plus the darn rash came back! Anyhoo . . . I was reading that some good natural cures for yeast infections are apple cider vinegar and garlic. There are so many foods that are natural cures for yucky stuff that I'm not surprised.

Tonight I'm giving Zoe a bath in Mimi and Pop's deep sink with some garlic and apple cider vinegar smells wafting up in the steam. Her shampoo and conditioner are perfumed with apricot. On top of that, when she's wet, I rub olive oil with almond extract all over her as an awesome and completely natural moisturizer. I haven't had dinner yet and my stomach is growling. I'm thinking how wrong it is that I'm salivating over my baby's bath water. Well then, she sees a measuring cup with a measuring spoon on the counter and starts using the one to fill the other up. As she's measuring and pouring she asks me, "Mom, do you want some soup? I'm making soup. It's berrry gooood! It's be berry good for your body!" I had to giggle. Turkey soup anyone???

Back in the Saddle Again

Well, I have fallen off the blogging horse, and I'm just hanging onto the stirrups by my fingernails (er, toenails?), debating whether to just let go, or inch my way up the saddle and in true Lone Ranger style, throw myself back in the saddle. The mere thought of trying to play catch-up on the craziness of my life is daunting, to say the least. Not to mention the fact that I already tried this post twice and blogger kept losing my stuff . . . AAAGGGHH!! But, what the heck, I say, "Heigh Ho Silver! Away!"

(Please insert the tune to "Back in the Saddle Again" for full analogy effect)

December was truly a whirlwind!! I'm still reeling and dizzy. It started out with a wonderful visit from my parents! To understand just how wonderful this was, you have to keep in mind that the last three visits my parents tried to do were thwarted due to my amazing Grandmother Glo's (my Dad's Mom) failing health and consequently, the moving of her and my Grandpa into my parents home. Worthy reasons for not coming, to be sure, but still a big bummer when their trips were canceled (especially considering it meant Grandma wasn't well). This time they made fail-safe arrangements for my Grandparents and came out for Chris's graduation from Chiropractic school. (Did I happen to mention that he graduated??!!) We spent almost a week with them and the kiddos were spoiled crazy with the extra attention (Zoe especially took a special liking to Grandpa and still continues to ask for him). And Chris and I were spoiled with the ability to go out sans-kids and have some adult time. Too fun!

After all of the graduation excitement, we sent my parents home (much to the dismay of Miss Zoe). It turned out to be a really crappy day. My parents went straight from the airport to a doctor's appointment for my dad. This is where he found out that his kidneys are in really bad shape, possibly failing, and that there is a distinct chance he will eventually need a transplant. As Chris and I were Christmas shopping that night (Thanks again Ogdens for watching the monkeys for us! You guys rock!), I get a call from my mom. She fills me in on the kidney news as they're finally traveling to their home from the dr's appointment. I hang up with her and 15 minutes later I get another call from her. While my parents were 10 minutes from home (keep in mind that they went straight from the airport to the dr's appointment and haven't been home for a week now) . . . they get a call from my aunt Penny (who also lives with them) and find out that my amazing, beautiful, sweet, wonderful Grandmother Glo had just passed away. Grandma had had some complications while my parents were visiting us, so it wasn't entirely a surprise, but they were 10-15 minutes away from seeing her and saying goodbye . . . Talk about crappy!

Unfortunately my Grandma's funeral was on the day we were moving to Oklahoma (I know, "Crazy lady say what?!) and I was unable to attend. I was told it was a wonderful program celebrating her amazing life. Though I lament the fact that I was not able to be there to mourn with those that mourn, in a Pollyanna way, I'm also grateful that all of my memories of her are of her being younger, beautiful, vivacious, whole, able, and with a functioning brain (much the way I imagine she is now on the other side of the veil).

You did hear me right back there . . . We moved to Oklahoma just before Christmas. I have been accused of being stealthy and stealing away in the night, we took off so suddenly and quietly. It truly wasn't intentional. We'd been preparing for this move for a while now (as evidenced by our full storage unit and our staged-for-selling home), but we just hadn't figured out the date of the actual move yet. We decided, packed up, and two days later were on the move to our new home. Unfortunately we have not sold our home in Texas yet. Apparently the housing market has gotten even worse and we'd be so upside down if we sold now, we'd actually owe tons of money. Yuck! So, now we're looking into renting it out (know anyone who needs to rent a nice home in Keller?). We are currently living with Chris's parents in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma (a suburb of Tulsa, a.k.a, the place where Chris was born and raised). Believe it or not, it has been a wonderful situation and an HUGE blessing to us (although I can't vouch for what his parents think after a couple months of our insanity, but nobody's dead yet, so that should tell you something). I must say however, they must be saints!

Christmas was wonderful! The monkies were spoiled mercilessly. My favorite present came in the form of a letter stating that my Father-in-law had a reservation for a week stay in a condo in Bella Vista, Arkansas. Turns out, the reservation was actually for Chris and me. Mimi and Pop were offering to watch the mini-monkies for up to a week so we could have some free/adult/fun time! (Did you hear my "Woo! Hoo!" from where you are?) It was actually really hard to leave the little ones behind. I fretted like crazy, even though I knew they couldn't be in better hands. It was a strange mixture of missing them and thrilled to be away from them at the same time as we drove the two and a half hours to Bella Vista. I'd never been to Arkansas and had no idea what to expect, so I wasn't prepared for this . . . It was BE-u-ti-FUL!! Granted, it was winter so the main color was brown, but I could just imagine how incredible it would be in the Spring, Summer, or Fall. We got to stay in a cute little condo, equipped with mini kitchen and washer/dryer, etc. It was so nice people! No little people to remind that furniture is not for jumping on . . . and that there are people upstairs and next door so stop screaming and wrestling before they call the Arkansas police on us for abuse . . . oh, and no little bodies trapped in a small condo ready to explode from boredom . . .Just me and the Hubs, for 4 whole days . . .by ourselves! ** Sigh!!** We had a blast . . . we played mini golf, worked out at the on site gym together, went hot-tubbing, hiked some beautiful nature trails, watched and ate whatever we wanted, stayed up 'til all hours (ok, midnight, this girl's no spring chicken anymore), and best of all ~slept in!!!~. Too cool. Sometimes I was tempted to feel bad and miss the kids, then I would call them and was reminded that they were having a blast and were behaving like complete angels for Mimi and Pop. They went to the zoo, flew model airplanes with Pop, played and had a ball as evidenced by these pictures.

By the time the four days were over, Chris and I couldn't wait to get back and hug those kiddos. Absence makes the heart grow fonder right?

As far as the whole reason we're here ~ To start up Chris's Chiropractic Practice~ things are moving along steadily. There's so much to think about and do, but we've been blessed with so many huge blessings along the way (so many that it would require another post to tell about them) it's hard not to know we're on the right path. Panacea Wellness and Chiropractic should be opened by April. Woo Hoo!!! Now if Chris can just survive all of the stress until then! :)

So . . . here we are . . . the kids are established in school, Chris and I were just called to teach the CTR 7 class in our new ward, the practice is getting underway, we're all still alive and ticking . . . Life is pretty good (hectic, crazy, chaotic, exciting, a jungle, a madhouse, nutsy, zoolike, and riotous, but good nevertheless.) Feel caught up? Well, the fat lady is singing and I'm ready to be done with this post. Back in the saddle again? We shall see . . . Tune in next week to see if the injuns let the intrepid hero live to post another day. . .

Bella Vista Rocks!

This is the post where I get to be one of those obnoxious friends who lures you to her house with promises of a game night or treats, or something equally innocuous but . . . upon entering, you discover her ulterior motive as you spy the slide projector and screen all assembled and cued up to elucidate every in and out of her summer vacation (ok, winter in my case). So sit back, pull up a chair, please suppress your yawns, and you're welcome to pop some popcorn for what will most certainly be a thrill-a-minute ride. (Ha, ha, . . . Suckers!) :)


I mentioned in my catch-up post that Chris and I enjoyed a wonderful little getaway to Bella Vista, Arkansas courtesy of Chris's parents. This is what we enjoyed . . .

Our little condo had a mini-kitchen where we actually cooked a few healthy meals.


The adjacent living room where we did a lot of vegging and napping. (you're jealous of the carefree lifestyle, aren't you? I know I am.)


Bella Vista was surprisingly beautiful! It was cold and brown, but beautiful considering we went in the dead of winter. We went on a nature trail hike and found these beautiful sights . . .
(Chris says I look like I'm photoshopped into this picture. Was I really there? Oh, You don't know!)

We got some raucous teeny-boppers to take this picture for us. They then proceeded to climb over the fence into the forbidden area and torture this poor waterfall with their cacophony of teenage-ness. Tsk, tsk!


A local reservoir . . . Isn't it quaint with all of the cute little houses? Nice place for a summer home eh? We're looking into that little white one in the middle with our vast amounts of wealth. We'll be sure to show you lots of slides of it when we get it. You're so fortunate to be our friends aren't you?


On our nature trail hike there were some wild rock formations just beggin' to be climbed on (and sat upon) . . . and we obnoxiously obliged . . . and took pictures of our helpfulness.



All in all, Bella Vista was a nice place and a wonderful opportunity to relax and let our hair down a little bit . . .


Obviously some of us let our hair down more than others . . .


So (will someone please turn up the lights?) do you feel enlightened yet? Do you wish you had been there? Well, if you're lucky I'll send you a t-shirt . . . but I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. It's an unhealthy practice.

Who knew?

. . . that Elmo was such a trouble maker . . . Who knew that this sweet, furry little monster is sadistically out to get my 8 year old daughter?

Zoe was bestowed an Elmo Live for Christmas. He's adorable! He sings, he dances, he tells jokes, plays games, hugs and blows kisses with a cute little reminder that "Elmo loves you! Mmm Hmm. Kiss-kiss!" Zoe is so smitten! She plays with him almost all day and never seems to get tired of him.

Kolbi, however, seems to be the target for Elmo's darker side. . . Kolbi and Zoe now share a room, so it stands to reason that they would both have their toys stored there at night. Elmo's fiendish campaign started not too long after Christmas . . . Kolbi ~ who had supposedly been sleeping for the last half-hour~ crept quietly out of their room and over to where Chris and I were watching a show. "Mom, Elmo is staring at me." She says sheepishly. Being the ever-loving-and-understanding parent that I am, I tell her to turn him around and go back to bed. "But Mom, he creeps me out!" With a flourish and a sigh, I promptly get up, and move Elmo out of the room and into the hallway. She's satisfied and gratefully returns to her bed.

The next night, I find out that the sadistic little son-of-a-monster, Elmo, has the patience of Job when pursuing his prey. Kolbi again asks me to move Elmo out of the room for the night. But she has a special request that I not put him in the hallway, because when she got up to go to the bathroom this morning, Elmo was waiting for her with evil-intent shining up at her from those beady eyes. She was so scared she decided to hold it until the sun came up. Poor thing . . . her eyeballs were swimming when the rooster finally crowed!

For some weeks, Kolbi would remind me every night to please remove Elmo and keep him out of the hallway. I've obliged~ to keep the peace~ even when Zoe caught on that her precious Elmo was being banished every night and pitched an ever-loving fit. So, every night I've been condemning poor Elmo to face the wall (where his malicious eyes cannot find Kolbi), and around the corner (so he can't lie in wait for her to unsuspectingly need to tinkle and pounce on her). All the time thinking it's silly and not taking her very seriously.

Last night, the Hubs and I were in our room talking, when we hear a whisper of a knock on our door. It's Kolbi. Apparently, she got up to go to the bathroom and on her way back, she spied Elmo in his appointed corner (or rather she saw his hand as it was the only part of him that was remotely visible). "He moved Mom!" She tells me. "Honey," I placate, "Elmo's turned off, he can't move." "No Mom!" She insists, "I think I saw his hand move! It scared me! Could you walk with me back to my room?" Chris and I share an amused look and I escort her back to her bed.

"This has got to stop," I'm thinking and sit her down for a little talk. "You do realize that Elmo's not real, don't you?" I ask.

"Yes," She replies. "But he still scares me."

"Even during the day when Zoe's playing with him?"

"Yeah, a little." She sheepishly replies.

"Why?!" I ask, bewildered.

"I don't know Mom, he's just creepy!"

I tell her to visualize (every time thoughts of him start to scare her) her picking Elmo up, turning him upside down and flipping the switch on his left foot to the off position. "When he's off, he can't move" I emphasize. "He becomes like a furry, red little piece of furniture. But please don't sit on him. Zoe would never forgive you for crushing her best friend." She giggles, the mood's lightened. "Besides Kolbi . . ." I remind her " . . . Elmo loves you! Mmm hmmm! Kiss-kiss!"

Bear with me . . .

Please "Bear" with me . . . . I really am trying to do a new post, but life is kicking my booty and blogger is being a 2 year old.