My doe-eyed bottle rocket

My darling April is the apple of my eye. 

She is cheerful and lively and brings us hours of delight.

Doesn't she just look like a sweet, docile angel? 

But one thing I have learned (and so has Tyler) about pretty girls:

Don't let those doe-eyes fool you. 

Because inside that meek, cherubic exterior
lies a demon with a squeal that can shatter glass.

I have determined that God gives us the strength and abilities we need
to endure life's challenges. April's current life-challenge is about 3 years old
with a blankie and an attitude. Whenever Bryce comes within three feet of her,
she lets off a scream that has the pitch of a bottle-rocket
and the endearing quality of a tornado siren.

Now, I have no argument with this natural defense mechanism.
The problem is she has learned that this tool of unrestrained volume
is highly effective at not just repelling Bryce,
but also motivating those around her to do her every will.

When she wants more milk: scream. When Bryce takes her toy: scream.
When she wants to get down from her high-chair: scream.
When she is tired: scream. When she is bored: scream.
When she wants to be picked up, put down, moved or hugged...

You get the idea.

I love her. But I will also love it when she outgrows this stage.

Because, you know... age two is so much easier.

Happy Halloween!

 Spooky Greetings from Bryce's new best friend, Jack.

You know the biggest problem with having
a jack-o-lantern as your best friend?

He always eats all your chips! 

Bryce loves to dance by Tyler's custom-made 

ghosts that hang from our front tree. 

They sway in the wind and are quite cute, actually. 

I mean, no...they are scary!!

Check out our ginormous spiders that cling to the front columns. 

We had these imported from Texas. 

They were hiding out in David's closet. 

And finally, here's Stewart, who sits cheerfully
on the porch with his jug of cider and welcomes the season.

We love Stewart because nothing says "Happy Harvest"
 quite like an intoxicated scarecrow.

Quintessential Chelsea

Me:  "Chelsea, please don't say frickin, it's not a nice word."

Chelsea: "Okay, Mom. I frickin won't."

Sigh...

Do you ever get tired of being yelled at? Don't most of us, at the end of a long day, just think, "Ya know, I don't think I was yelled at enough today. Hopefully tomorrow will more productive..."

Bryce is going through a yelling phase. Which really is lovely, because all my favorite people are yellers.  It tends to be such a great indicator of emotional health and personal refinement.

Today Bryce got up from his nap in a bit of a mood. He yelled at me because the light in the bathroom wasn't on (apparently, it's supposed to sense his arrival and just "turn on," like we have BMW engineered bathroom lights or something). Then he yelled at me because there was water in his potty. ("There's water in my potty," I said, pointing to the toilet. But, no. That didn't help.) Then he yelled at me because I walked out before he was done. Then he yelled because he couldn't find his cup. Then he yelled because his blankie wasn't hanging on the back of his chair, etc. Finally, after he was done eating I said, "Bryce, don't drag your blanket through the kitchen, it's going to get dirty."

At which point he yelled as loud as he could, "I like my blankie right HERE!" 

Without saying anything, I picked up his blanket and threw it down the stairs (towards his room). He then went into a full-on meltdown right in the middle of the kitchen floor. At which point, one of my other children responded, "Jeez, Mom. You didn't have to be mean to him."

Nice.

Hopefully tomorrow will be more productive.

New post

Well, it's official: my blogging has achieved "guilt" status. It is now a part of the ritualistic self-bludgeoning that I do each night as I lay in bed and rehearse my list of daily failures, "I should read more with Chelsea... I shouldn't have snapped at Spencer... I forgot to take my calcium... I never got around to sweeping the front steps... I need to blog more..."
.
As you know, blogging is one more thing that every good Mormon wife should be doing. And it definitely ranks right up there with calcium. So today, I am attempting double duty: I am not only going to blog (hence this rambling) but, I ALSO went and got my eyebrows waxed which is a big plus for me because I was starting to look like sasquatch.

The following is a list (some with photos) of a few things we have done since April 6. I swear we've done more than this, but if an event isn't photographed it quickly slips from my memory into the nebulous oblivion of "did I do that or did I just read about it in a Stephenie Meyer novel?"

Here are a few of the things that I am sure happened:

Bryce turned three on June 1st.

And of course, he got some clothes.

Because there is nothing he likes more

than changing his clothes.

Here he is blowing out his candles
(and wearing his new shirt).

*****

Spencer caught a fish.

But there is a story behind this fish.
(No, really, it's an interesting fish story, I promise...)

Do you see the size of this fish?
Do you see the size of this bottle?

Carter and Spencer went "fishing" (i.e. some string & some cheese & some boyish enthusiasm) at the small pond here in our park where they caught several ugly fish. Carter needed to gut a fish to complete his fishing merit badge, so he brought his fish home in a bag. Spencer wanted to keep his fish, so Carter shoved it down into the very narrow opening of this powerade bottle.

The fish only lived for about 20 minutes.
Carter told Spencer it died due to a lack of oxygen.
But the coroner ruled it blunt force trauma.

*****

April ate something

I'm not sure why I took this picture or what she was eating, 

but apparently at the time it seemed relevant.

****

We went hiking with Jon and Gina.

Oh, and Cookie came too.

You just can't see her because she likes to go her own way!

She's really on Jon's back, see her little arm?

****

And, as I am sure many of you are aware,

Carter got new basketball shoes.

He worked long and hard for these shoes.
(Not quite as long as Jacob worked for Rachel, but it seemed that long!)

They are of course, signed by Kobe Bryant, which enhances their value in the eyes of some, and decreases their value of eyes of most.

But, a special thanks goes out to uncle Jon who finagled the sales price on these "no longer on sale" shoes. If you want the full story, you'll have to ask Jon or Carter. It's a pretty good one. 

(But not quite as good as the fish story.)

Fuzzy Math

Hi Honey,

So remember the other day when I said we needed some new bedding because our kids kept getting lost in the huge tear in the middle of our old comforter? Well, I am happy to say, that I found some fantastic new bedding and I saved you tons of money in the process! How did I save you money? Well, let me 'splain...

The king size down comforter we've been looking at was 50% off! Which means I saved you $149.99. Then, I found the most beautiful embroidered quilt to go over the top. It wasn't on sale, but it was a good price for such exquisite detail work. I also got two embroidered shams and a bedskirt to match. I know, the shams were a bit much at $40 each, and the bedskirt was $45, but it is all necessary!

But, here is the good part: when I got home, the bedskirt looked terrible! Which means, I had to take it back. Along with the shams. So, I saved you another $125! But, while I was there, I noticed another quilt that would look perfect folded over at the bottom of the bed, and since we had the store credit anyway, I got that quilt and two shams to match. But, once again, good news! I saved you 20% off the quilt, and the shams were also on sale for $10 off! So, that is another $37 savings -- just because I love you.

Then, when I got home, I saved more money because the bed really needs some colorful throw pillows. But, rather than buy new ones, I just used the ones from the living room. But, if I did buy new ones, they would be at least $20 each. So, there again, I saved you another $60! And, on top of that, I needed two more standard size pillows for the shams, but our pillows are queen size, so I took two old pillows from upstairs and put them in the shams. I am sure new pillows are at least $10 each - which you didn't have to pay! Yes, I know, you can thank me later...

All in all, I consider it a very frugal and successful shopping trip. With all my sharp math skills, I was able to save you:

$150 (50% discount)

$125 (returned shams/skirt)

$..20 (off second two shams)

$..17 (20% discount)

$..60 (reused throw pillows)

$..20 (reused standard pillows for shams)

$392 TOTAL SAVINGS!!

Doesn't the end result look fantastic?!

In fact, as I was checking out and explaining to the manager all the ways I had saved you money, he just smiled slightly and winked at me, as if to say, "I love shoppers like you." And I just thought to myself, "I know."
.

(Oh, BTW, we now need some new throw pillows for the living room, and a couple of standard pillows for upstairs. Just FYI. Let me know if you want me to take care of that for you...)

April & Brooklyn

We took these pictures a few weeks ago

when we were at the cabin.  

This is the first time April met her new cousin -- and new BFF -- Brooklyn Paige Cook. (Brooklyn is on the left, April is right.)

Brooklyn was so nice to share her toy.

April was really enamored with the new, shiny, pink danglies and rattles. She kept thinking to herself, "This is nice stuff. My parents never get toys like this for me. My toys are all blue. And faded. And missing limbs."

Although the girls haven't quite mastered the secret "girlfriends forever" handshake yet, they did get the "oh yeah, your-my-sis" drool bubbles in sync.

Rules for Restaurant Dining

I'm not saying all these things have happened in our family. Some we have experienced, others we have just observed. But, after some rather colorful experiences eating out recently, I decided to draft up some basic rules for restaurant dining. 

#1: The moment you sit down, immediately collect all utensils, condiments, sauces, sugar packets, salt or pepper shakers and any other item that could be sucked on, choked on, inhaled, snorted, thrown or spilled. Place them next to a trustworthy adult or (ideally) on an empty, adjoining table. (If you do this first crucial step, you can avoid many of the following problems. If you don't, then you deserve what is coming to you.)

#2: Remind all children: drinks and straws are a privilege. Abuse either and you will be thirsty. Do not spill your drink. Do not spit your drink at others. Laughing while drinking is not advised. Do not turn your straw into a worm. Do not see how far you can stick your straw down your throat. Do not slurp. Do not use straws as weapons. Do not pour salt or sugar in your drink (or anyone else's). Do not fish ice cubes out of your drink with your spoon or your fingers.

#3: Sit quietly. You may color on the menu if crayons were provided. If crayons were not provided, then this is probably a nicer restaurant then you should be at anyway. If you cannot read the menu, ask an adult for help. If an older sibling tells you that the only thing they make for kids is fried squid with mango sauce, please ask for clarification before bursting into tears. No, french fries do not count as a meal. Okay, apparently a corn dog does. *shudder*

#4: You are not the invited entertainment for the evening. People in the other booths would like to pretend you are not here. Do not spit air at them through your straw. Do not loudly recite poorly scripted Hannah Montana jokes and then laugh hysterically with your mouth open. Do not peek over the top of the adjoining bench and say, "Holler!"

#5: Addendum to rule #4: If children are completely out of control, do NOT use the following warning: "You have too many wiggles. Go run around the building five times and then come back in and finish your meal." While this may sound like a perfectly reasonable solution, having three children running around the outside of a restaurant is annoying to the other patrons, and apparently frowned upon by the management.

#6: No musical chairs. No fighting under the table. No foot kicking, arm wrestling, knife jousting, fork poking, spoon gouging, forearm pinching or thigh whacking. If at any time you have space issues, please recite the following to yourself: "There is only so much room for each of us in this booth" -- "personal space does not exist in a family of seven" -- "scoot over or go sit in the car."

#7: Addendum to rule #6. Do NOT use the following warning: "If you can't use good manners, you can go sit in the car while the rest of us finish our meal." While this may also sound perfectly reasonable, sending a child to sit in a car in either hot weather, cold weather or completely temperate weather is against the law, and apparently frowned upon by the Orem City Police Department.

#8: When your food comes, you may say, "Thank you." You may not say, "FINALLY!" Please do not refer to the waitress as, "Hey, Water Lady." Please do not refer to the waiter as, "Yo, Chip Man."

#9: Enjoy your food. Eat slowly. If you cannot breathe and you cannot swallow, it is a good indicator that you took too big of a bite. If your behavior is out of control, and you see that large vein start to bulge out of the side of Dad's neck, it is probably a good time to excuse yourself and walk quickly and quietly to the restroom.

#10: Eating out is a privilege. Or, in other words, I was too cheap to hire a sitter. But there's always next time...

Seek & Find

Can you find:

1 Lightning McQueen

1 Zurg

1 Barbie dolphin

1 plastic turtle

1 bath towel (green)

1 hand towel (green)

1 toothpaste lid

1 smashed tube of toothpaste

1 toothbrush (gently used)

1 April outfit

1 toy fish

1 floss
1 green plastic ball

1 Mr. Smiley back scratcher

3 round decorative candles (red, white, orange)

1 decorative candle tray

14 decorative rocks

1 turquoise cup

1 orange bowl

1 almost-empty soap container

2 rolls of toilet paper

and

1 missing 2 year old?

This morning's 'Seek and Find' brought to you by Bryce.

Of course.

These feet were made for walking

Last Sunday was Ward Conference. So, naturally, I had an epiphany. As I was sitting in the 3rd hour meeting, contemplating the deep significance of the stake's message, I caught a glimpse of my dry, non-pedicured February toes sticking boldly out of the top of my sandals and thought, "Good heavens, have you no shame?!"

But then, as I sat there, trying to hide such reprehensible feet under my long skirt and hoping no one else would notice, I thought, "When did feet stop being... you know,  feet?"

.

There are some ways in which we as a society have made great advancements. I consider much of my life to be significantly easier than that of most women who have ever lived. I have an electric washer, dryer, dishwasher, toaster, can opener, refrigerator, running water (hot and cold), lights, heat, etc. Not to mention a car, voting privileges and a bank account! Really, it's pretty cush. We have obviously made great strides in how we live and function. But it seems that as a society, when our significant survival needs are met, we then shift our focus to the trivial, mundane, and absolutely ridiculous.

Take teeth whitening for example. When I was in high school, I'd never heard of whitening teeth. Now, it's not only standard, but expected. I was chatting with a friend the other day who said she is frustrated with her mother because she just won't go in and get her teeth whitened. Silly woman! Doesn't she know that these days we have moved right past judging people by the color of their skin and now we judge them by the color of their teeth!? I told Tyler a few weeks ago that I wanted to go to the dentist and get my teeth whitened. (Because you know, the whitening strips, toothpaste, mouthwash and gum just aren't effective enough...) He said, "What makes you think you need your teeth whitened?" And because my real answer of: "Well, because everyone else does," seemed so stupid, I responded with the much more insightful: "I dunno."

I feel the same way about pedicures. Some women love them; getting a pedicure is the highlight of their week. (Which is great, I have no problem with that.) But for me a pedicure just seems like an extra $45 I'd rather not pay someone to play with my feet while I worry about what my five children are doing either to the house, the sitter, or each other. When did we elevate feet to such a high social standard that they now need to be exfoliated, buffed, and painted, weekly? Can you imagine if a some large, hairy caveman had lumbered in to where his wife was gutting a freshly-killed wildebeest and said: "You, woman! Paint feet!" She probably would have picked up her cavewoman club and beat him with it.

It's scary to think that in my pampered, efficient, automated life, I am now subjected to ridiculous beauty standards that no hardworking cavewoman would tolerate. I have to question the point of all the plucking, shaving, cutting, highlighting, coloring, painting, whitening, and make-up-ing. It's exhausting.

So, in response to this tangential aside I had during the 3rd hour meeting, I decided to boldly thrust my toes forward for all to see! Maybe then, someone else would feel that they didn't need to paint either! But that only lasted a minute before I tucked them snugly back underneath my chair.

Oh, and just so you know, today I firmly resisted the urge to give in and paint my toes. Ban the brush, I say!

Instead, I just wore boots.

4th Grade Valentine's Dance

Friday, February 12th was

Chelsea's 4th Grade Dance.

Chelsea and her peeps, Shayler and Amelia.

Boy #1

Boy #2

Boy #3

Boy #4

Boy #5  (Grant)  *sigh*

Dancing with Boy #5 (Grant)
*another sigh*

Chelsea in her new

Valentine's outfit.

Mom:  *sigh*

My yoga is more exciting than your yoga

One of my New Year's resolutions was to do yoga a few times per week. I've been trying to do it in the morning right after the kids go to school. April goes down for a nap, I put in my video and practice from 9am until 10am. I only have one problem...

My yoga partner is out of control.

.

He usually starts off well. He likes the down-dog.

And the leg lifts

And the spine twist.
(See him concentrate on his Pranayama breath?)

But that pretty quickly dissolves into a form
of yoga-break dancing that includes
high kicking and jumping off the couch.

Then we move on to firearms.

Swordplay.

At least one potty break.

And a standup routine that includes
an oversized magician hat,

'oh-so-lovely' drool from the potty-candy,
and of course: pants on backwards.
.

I have to admit that for me, this yoga practice tends to be less than relaxing. At the beginning of the video the voiceover states: "Yoga should be practiced in a quiet environment away from distractions so that full inner relaxation can be achieved."  And I think, "Lady, I hate to break it to you, but that just aint gonna happen."

I suppose I could get up early and do it before the kids go to school. But that would require me to set my alarm for 5am. And only crazy people get up that early to exercise (Tyler).

Sheesh, I'm not that motivated.

Plus, didn't you know that yoga-break dancing is all the rage? It's the sport of the future, man.