Nelson's California Adventure

This past week was our family vacation. We had many adventures. This post is dedicated to all our non-Disneyland Adventures.

Adventure #1: Wildfires

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The blood-red sun was rather ominous. It was also disconcerting to watch the guardrail burn as we drove by.

On the trip down, we called our friends the Cresaps in San Diego to see if everyone was okay. My favorite quote of the weekend: "Go home. California's closed." (That would be Clint, of course.)

Adventure #2: Feeding ducks
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We fed an astonishing number of ducks this week. There were ducks in the big lake at Disneyland. There were ducks outside of the restaurant where we ate lunch. There were even ducks at Grandpa's office where we all went for our final dental work. We fed at least a loaf of bread and several rolls to various ducks (and geese.) Oh, and FYI: geese are mean, steer clear.

Adventure #2: Finding Q's

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Yes, that's the letter Q.

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On long trips, we play the alphabet game in the car. And, since we were stuck in traffic for so long (9 hours total, it's usually 5 1/2), I bet we played it no less than 10 times. I still find myself looking for Q's. (La Quinta, Dairy Queen, Sequoia!)

Adventure #3: Animal Game
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We also play "I'm thinking of an animal" in the car. This is a great game to play with Spencer because when it's his turn to guess he just asks over and over and over, "Is it a bear?"
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But, when he's picked the animal it's a different story altogether. He just answers questions randomly until you say something cool, then he says, "YEAH, that's it!" I'll give you an example:

Us: "Does it have two legs?"
Spencer: "Yes!"
Us: "Does it have four legs?"
Spencer: "Yes!"
Us: "Does it eat meat?"
Spencer: "Yes!"
Us: "Does it eat plants?"
Spencer: "Yes!"
Us: "Does it eat tacos?"
Spencer: "Yes!"
Us: "Is it red, yellow, blue or purple?"
Spencer: "Yes!"
Tyler: "Is it a rainbow?"
Spencer: "YES!"

Oh, of course! The six-legged taco-eating rainbow animal.
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Outplay -- Outwit -- Outlast

In many ways, my life is very much like a Survivor episode. I am frequently surrounded by hungry, strong-willed people (some of whom are perpetually half- dressed), in constant competition for food, attention, and other resources. The main difference being that in our weekly "tribal council" we sing "Itsy-bitsy-Spider" and eat rice-crispy treats. I have to say though, if our family life were a Survivor episode, Carter would win hands down in the "Outlast" category.

He is the master debater. He can certainly outplay (lob numerous topics at me at once) and outlast (never give in -- never give up) in any debate. If you were a fly on our wall last night, recording just Carter's side of the conversation, you would have heard something like this:

"Mom, are you sure you are going to sell the playstation?"

"Have you talked to Dad yet about me playing football?"

"Tonight is the high school football game. It starts at seven."

"Can I play the playstation for just a half hour since you are going to sell it and then I won't be able to play it again ever?"

"I really want to play football. All my friends play football."

"If I can't play playstation, what is there to do? And, please don't say, 'Read a book.'"

"Jacob plays football."

"How much are you selling the playstation for?"

"So are we going to the game tonight?"

"All the books we own are boring."

"Kade plays football."

"Are you going to sell all the games with the playstation? What about Motorstorm?"

"I really want to go to the game."

"Ethan plays football."

"I started Harry Potter once, it wasn't interesting."

"Ethan says I could play on his team."

"What about Lego Star Wars? Are you going to sell that one with the playstation? I have all my levels saved."

"Jordan plays football."

"When does Dad get off work? Will he take me to the game?"

"Playing catch in the backyard doesn't count as football."

"Lego Star Wars II is mine. If you sell it, you have to pay me."

"Caden plays football."

"Who are you selling the playstation to? Will they even like Lego Star Wars?"

"Jacob plays football."

"Yes, I already finished that book."

"If Dad's not home, maybe I can go to the game with Kade."

"A book is not as interesting as playstation."

"Logan plays football."

"Why did you even buy the playstation if you are just going to sell it?"

"Have you talked to Dad yet about me playing football?"

"Brecken plays football."

I'm not sure from whom Carter gets this maddening tenacity (Tyler), or his sense of personal rectitude (Tyler), or the idea that every conversation has an ultimate "winner" (Tyler). So, I just try to do my best to keep up and be grateful he has traits that will ultimately help him be successful in life. (The funny thing is, all he'd really have to do is flash me that smile and the conversation would be much shorter -- but don't tell him that.)

Oh, and just so you know, I decided not to sell the playstation; he did end up going to the football game with his Dad; and we are still in discussions regarding him playing football next year. Stay tuned...

Chelsea-isms

I was accused recently of having a favorite child. A friend (who shall not be named) noticed that I tend to blog more about one particular child than the others. It is true that the suspected "favorite" is featured on my blog frequently, but I must emphatically state that this is not due to preference. Instead, it is because the age and character of said child provides me ample blogging material. Additionally, this child happens to be home with me during the day while the others are at school. Had the blogosphere been around when the others were three (oops, I gave it away), there would have been many humorous posts about them as well.

In response to this assumed favoritism, I am posting a Chelsea-Only blog (Carter-Only blog to follow). This one is dedicated to all the funny (and interesting) observations and comments Chelsea makes that keep us laughing -- and guessing.
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Chelsea's insight to politics:

Hillary Clinton was featured on the cover of a recent US News & World Report magazine. Carter picked up the magazine and asked me, "Why don't we like her?" Chelsea quickly responded, "Because she's a Democrap."

(While I don't affiliate myself with either political party because I think they are both corrupt, I am not necessarily a Hillary fan either. The assessment sticks.)

Chelsea's language control:

While I was driving the kids home from school, a left turner made a very dangerous turn in front of me, to which I responded, "Oh, that was stupid!" Chelsea quickly chimed in from the back seat, "What did you say? (Pause, sigh) Mother, I've already had to talk to Dad about using that word!"

Chelsea as informant:

I have on different occasions, heard all of the following during the drive home from school:

"Mom, can you believe some kids at school don't know how babies are made?"

"Mom, some kids in my class still think Santa is real!!"

"Mom, did you know so-and-so has one Mom, two Dads, and six Grandparents! Now that's lucky, her Christmas must be huge!"

When picking her up after school:

"Mom, why are you so late? It's so hot, kids could die out here!"

"Ok, just so you know for next time, I hate these pants, I will never wear them again, they are itchy and ugly and I have been waiting all day to tell you this."

On not wanting me to do her hair in the morning:

"You can go ahead and put it in a ponytail if you want. I'm just going to rip it out on the way to school."

"Hello! Please be aware of the tangles!"

On role models:

"Mom, who is the girl on Freaky Friday?"
"Lindsay Lohan?"
"Yeah! I want to be just like her when I grow up!"
"Uhm... (Redirect) Don't you want to be a mom like me?"
"No, you can't play the guitar."

And, her favorite subject, Bryce:

When cleaning spit up off Bryce, "I don't blame you, Bryce. I'd spit out anything that smelled like that."

"He's crying because he needs his Chelsea."

Color Test

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Follow the link for a quick brain challenge.

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http://www.fireworkspop.com/colortest.htm

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The poor man's zoo

I took Spencer's preschool group to a local pet store last week for a field trip. As another mother in the group said, "It's the poor man's zoo!"

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I asked each child to choose their favorite animal.

Spencer chose this snake.

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And also, Nemo and Dory!

OOOO! And some turtles!

Oh, and this puppy!
"He loves me mom!"

This yellow fellow was "way cool!"

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But maybe that's because he matched Bryce.

These posing lizards were also a hit.

Ultimately, there was no one favorite.
As Spencer put it when we were leaving the store,
"They are all favorites! Let's buy all them!"

Uh oh, perhaps I need to re-explain the concept of
"poor man's zoo."

Boxing for the Cure

My brothers, David & Jon, were happy to participate in the:

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First Annual

Nelson Family

Dixie Regional

St. George Utah

Marathon Weekend

Sore Muscle Awareness

Pro Am Fun Fight

Box for the Cure

Boxing Tournament

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Courtesy of Wii Sports (and Bullrider Oversized Checks).

David has a nasty right hook and
Jon is a sneaky left jab.

It was serious competition...
the winner got free pie.

In the end, they both won once.

Plus, they got some pie, and cured

Marathon Muscle Soreness

all in one night.

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Go Dave & Jon!

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Oh, and just so you know...

Dave & Jon's (and Kristen's)

cure for Marathon Muscle Soreness:

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Don't run marathons. Eat pie.

Twins

Spencer:

Bryce:

Good guesses everyone!

Most people were right.

I'm Not Tired!

Every afternoon Spencer and I play this little game.

It's called: "Nap or No Nap?"

Sometimes he is tired and happily goes down for a nap.

Sometimes he is not tired and happily plays all afternoon.

Most often, however, he is tired but insists he is not,

and then around 2pm I find him asleep somewhere.

This (the emptied block bucket) is the most

interesting place I have found him.

It just goes to show that the presence of a blankie

makes anyplace comfortable.

Clubhouse, Playhouse, Treehouse!

I don't know how many of you have seen the arbor in our backyard. It was built by the previous owners. They had a cute picnic table under it. But since we already have a patio off the downstairs and a deck off the upstairs, I was never sure why I needed another picnic table in the corner of my yard. So although the arbor was pretty, it wasn't all that functional. I just looked at it periodically and questioned it's value. (My backyard only has so much space.)

I mentioned this to my Dad and he said,

"Well, let's turn it into a clubhouse!"

So we did.

Since the roof was already built, and was about 10 feet high, we figured we had plenty of space for a two-story structure. So, we began by creating a floor in the middle.

Using 2x6 beams, we made a solid base and then placed trex decking across for a sliver-free floor. This took two days.

Although we tried to make the whole project as interesting and kid friendly as possible, Bryce did not believe the fact that all of this effort was really for him.

He felt like he'd been set aside with the lumber.

After we built the floor for the upper level, we built a railing that went all the way around. Each of these pickets had to be individually cut and drilled into place using a spacer so the distance between them would always be the same. This took two days.

After all the pickets were in place, we secured a handrail that went along the top. We also cut a hole in the side where we would build the ladder. This took another day.

This is the old floor that the previous owners put down under the arbor. We decided it needed to be redone to better fit the space and also to properly bury the water line that ran underneath.

I don't know if you've ever layed bricks before but it is the most tedious, patience-testing process imaginable. It took us all of one day just to relay this floor.

Here is Spencer on the new floor. We ran the bottom of the railing along the bricks and put two cans of cement in the front to hold the future handrail.

Rain Delay.

Grandpa also hung a swing for the kids to play on from our tree. This is looking sideways into my neighbor's yard. The arbor behind is not ours.

We put a sandbox in the back corner behind the clubhouse.

Grandpa built this ladder to fit perfectly in this spot.

It is nice and wide and perfectly slanted so both kids and adults can get on the upper level.

You can see the sandbox back behind the ladder. It is wedged between a 2x6 piece of trex and both my neighbor's fences. This is as far as I could possibly get it from my house and still be in my yard. I hoped this would curtail the sand from making it's way into my house.

My Dad said that is impossible.

Our last project was raising the original roof 10 inches higher. This gives the older kids plenty of head-space on the upper level. (The upper roof is 60 inches high and the lower level is 50 inches from the bricks to the ceiling.)

Finally, it's done!

We placed GrandMary's darling wicker furniture on the lower level. It is Chelsea's favorite little space. Carter likes the upper deck and Spencer is in heaven in the sandbox. Bryce still hasn't quite grasped the fact that he will get more use out of the clubhouse than anyone else. But at least he's not trapped in his carrier next to the lumber pile, so he's fine with it. Thanks Grandpa! It's the coolest clubhouse--playhouse--treehouse ever!

Pareidolia

Every so often, someone will see the form of the Virgin Mary in their mashed potatoes or the profile of Jay Leno in their peeling wallpaper. This is called Pareidolia. Well, this morning we had our own version of pareidolia (say that three times fast) over breakfast.

At some point while I was preparing lunches and Spencer was enjoying his bowl of Cap'n Crunch, he suddenly shouted, "I see Mickey Mouse!"

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"You see Mickey Mouse, where?" I asked, looking around the kitchen.

"Right here!" He pointed to the counter.

Well, I have to say, as far as images in milk doplets go, it was certainly Mickey Mouse-esque. We took a photo for posterity and blogging purposes.

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And also, to give you a little boost of faith.

School Daze

This is a picture of the first day of school. (Yes, it was a month ago.) Don't the kids look nice and clean and well groomed and ready for a new day?


You would never guess the amount of stress that goes into making this possible.

Each morning I get up with the mistaken impression that I have plenty of time to get everyone ready for school. (Tyler leaves at 6:45am, the kids leave at 8:30.) You would think that at some point I would have enough foresight to prepare for battle instead of breakfast, but I'm a slow learner. It seems that regardless of how much prep I put in the night before, I am invariably in a cold sweat by 8:25am because I have spent the last hour and a half walking around saying:
"Practice your piano."
"Did you finish your reading?"
"Where is the practice spelling test we did last night?"
"Is that your third bowl of cereal? Leave enough milk for other people."
"No, that was sloppy, practice that song again."
"You can't wear that, it's dirty."
"There is a big wad of gel in your hair, go brush it out."
"Please don't leave your pajamas in a pile on the stairs."
"Did you make your bed?"
"Why did you take your pony tail out? It looked fine!"
"It's not my job to find your shoes."
"No, a bag of chips and a cookie does not qualify as a lunch."

On top of all this, Bryce is usually crying in the background because he has exceeded his "I will only sit in this swing for 15 minutes" mandate, and Spencer at some point yells at me from the bathroom, "Mom! Come wipe my bum!"

I know that an ounce of preparation beats a pound of perspiration, so I honestly try to make sure that everyone's homework is done and in the right folder the night before. But I swear "homework gnomes" come in the middle of the night and scatter everything. I also do regular laundry inspections to ensure everyone has clean clothes to wear. But, to a nine-year-old, "clean" is not as important as "favorite," so we spend many mornings discussing how many times per week one can wear the same shirt. We have also entered the realm of "it's my hair, I'll wear it how I like," which means too much gel for him and a crooked part for her.

Chelsea started piano in August, so I outlined a routine for morning piano practice, which I understood to be Carter: 7:30-7:45 am and Chelsea: 7:45-8:00am. But they see it more as: "If I'm sloppy and resistant and perpetually behind schedule, I may be able to avoid this completely." And, I won't even go into the "pack your own lunch" system that I thought was a great idea at the beginning of the year. That quickly disintegrated into the "Oh forget it, just buy school lunch today" system.

Perhaps I am disorganized, and perhaps my children make things as difficult as possible to avoid as much responsibility as possible. And maybe this is just the plight of the elementary school mother. It's probably a little of each. But somehow each morning we miraculously manage to get everyone dressed, combed, packed, fed, prayed over, hugged, and kissed goodbye. Then I collapse in a heap in the middle of the kitchen floor and wonder why I never have enough energy left to exercise.

But, aren't they cute?

Shoo Flu

The flu has visited us recently. Spencer and Chelsea got it while Tyler was in the Wind Rivers. Chelsea had it for four days. Spencer still has it (mildly). I got it last weekend and Tyler and Carter are now infected. This one's a doozy! Luckily Bryce has avoided it and so have my carpets. But I've about had enough -- it's been three weeks for heaven's sake!

I once again have renewed respect for morning sickness, chemotherapy patients and other chronically nauseated individuals.

I anticipate further blog posts once we are all well...

Reflections

We started school last week! I say "we," because unfortunately it's true. I've already had a great refresher on the suffix "-tion" (via this week's spelling list) and reviewed my multiplication tables. I'm also brushing up on the difference between "tens" and "ones." (I'm very proficient at the "tens" column, you'd be proud.)

Anyway, since we are in the mood of "back to school bonanza," I encouraged Carter to step up this year and participate in the Reflections Contest. He's never done it and since school is rather easy for him (just the way he likes it), I think he should stretch a little and do some extra credit (just the way I like it.)

This was met with ample resistance. At some point I said, "Photography is a category, you could do that. The theme this year is 'How I can make a difference.' You could go around and take pictures of people 'making a difference.'"

He looked at me with the same face you are making now.

I continued, "Well then, you could take pictures of yourself making a difference."

He responded, "How?"

"I don't know," I said. "Like doing nice things for people. Making a difference at school."

He rolled his eyes and said, "No, I mean, how am I supposed to take pictures of myself?"

I thought about this for a minute.

He began to walk away, so I simply stated, "I'm sure you could find some way to make a difference."

He shook his head and said, "I'm just not that kind of guy."

Hmm, I think we are going to have a few projects this fall. One will be the Reflections contest, one will be helping Carter learn "what kind of guy" he is, and one will be a refresher on physics.

Story Time

The other day, Spencer pulled up a chair and
read Bryce his favorite Sandra Boynton story.

"Yellow pants, red pants, green pants, oops!"



"Spencer speak" translation: "I love you, Bryce."

Spidey Spence

We're all Spiderman.

All the time.

If you think the outfit is over the top,
you should hear his "Spiderman Song"
and see all his "Spiderman moves."

We are frequently subjected to both.

PB&J -- the right way, please!

Children prefer very simple tasting foods. I know this. I swear we keep Grandma Sycamore's bread company and the Skippy peanut butter factory in business. Quite frankly, I think Spencer would shrivel away to nothing if it weren't for the staying power of peanut butter and white bread. Now for me, sticky, hydrogenated peanut butter on white bread is barely on the fringe of acceptable food choices. I prefer Sycamore's Whole Wheat & Honey with Sunflower Seeds and Maranatha's organic smooth peanut butter. A sandwich such as this has delicious texture and just a hint of sweetness. It is also substantially healthier.

At 11am, when my sweet hobbits were requesting their third meal of the morning, I decided to see if they would like (okay, tolerate) a peanut butter sandwich with my sunflower bread (for continuity, I still used the Skippy --- shudder). I meticulously cut all the crusts off, cut the sandwhich in half the long way, and made sure that everything looked appropriate. I even cut up an apple (all traces of peel removed) and poured them some cranberry juice. I was thrilled with this healthy offering. I took it out to them on the deck, where they had decided to take their meal.

Chelsea eyed the bread suspiciously, "What is this?"

"It's your peanut butter sandwhich," I responded.

"What's the matter with it?" She asked.

"Nothing. Try it." I sat down casually next to her.

She took one small bite, apparently missing the sunflower seeds. "It's okay."

Spencer didn't eat. I had served his sandwhich on the red plate, instead of the green one. In response to this outrage, he was hiding under the chair chanting, "Green, green, green, green," until the plate magically changed color.

Chelsea took another bite and chewed for a minute. Suddenly her face contorted into what appeared to be a convulsion. She ran inside, leaned over the garbage and violently spit everything out of her mouth. She then got a drink, gargled, and spit into the sink.

When she came back out on the deck she looked at me with horror. "What is in that bread??!!"

I found her reaction to be so overly dramatic that I responded simply, "Cockroach legs."

"What?! Mom that's gross! Nobody eats cockroach legs!" She yelled.

"Oh, com'on, Chelsea. They're all dead. Cockroaches are great fiber."

Spencer stopped chanting "green, green, green" and climbed up on his chair to look at the bread instead of the plate.

"What?! I'm telling Carter!!" She stormed off and returned with Carter a minute later.

"Mom, tell him there are cockroach legs in the bread!"

I said nothing.

Carter looked at her sandwich and said, "No, Chelsea, I've had that bread before. It just has seeds in it or something."

"No, she said it was cockroach legs!" She pointed at me.

Carter asked me, "Mom, is it really cockroach legs?"

"Chelsea acted like it was," I said, eyeing her. "It's just sunflower seeds. But you acted like I was trying to poison you. Do you think I would feed you something bad?" I asked.

They all looked at me for a minute, pondering.

"Well, I wouldn't," I answered for them. "I want you to be healthy, so I gave you a healthy wheat bread with some seeds in it. They are delicious and they give it a little bit of a crunch. It's good," I said with a smile.

But, nobody was convinced. I went inside and made them all sandwiches on bleached white bread with sticky, hydrogenated peanut butter. At least this time, I got the plate colors right.