Pumpkin Patching

Last week was a bit of a doozy for me. I was super sick and also seemed to have a lot of assignments (an exam even) and other to-do items. Mr. Man helped out a lot, as did sweet good friends. And the fact that the kids were off school Thursday and Friday when I was NOT, didn't help either. Much juggling ensued. I'm a horrible juggler. At any rate, Friday morning I took my exam, while my kids had WAY too much fun with their sitter and then we took a trip to the mall to visit the toy store and then spent a good four hours with some of our best friends out at our favorite farm. We picked pumpkins, bought apples to make applesauce, enjoyed the petting zoo (except for when our little friend got her hand bit by a pig), went on a haunted hay ride, played on the hay ship and maze and just enjoyed the fresh brisk autumn air. So fun and carefree. We raced home to get to football practice and real life on time. But it was a joyous afternoon and a good end to a rough week. (And this week brought snow, and cooler weather, so I'm glad we snuck it in!) I took way too many pictures, here are just a few:

He spent the first couple of hours like this. Isn't it good for kids to nap outdoors?

Boys enjoying the pigs

Miss J and her friend: true cowgirls

This little guy tried to sneak out of every picture I tried to take (see the top one for clues of him) but I barely caught him here. It was a fun game for my usually camera-happy boy.

Getting down to each others level.

It was busy busy... lots of kids and lots of running around.

The simple tree-hung tire swings were a HUGE hit.

Taking forever to find their PERFECT pumpkins. The Toddler was the pickiest. Didn't like the "dirty" ones!!!

This Poor Van

Remember when we bought her? Shiny Rocket was her name.
I really was sad to give up my Camry, but we were having a fourth child and couldn't stick him in the trunk... so we bought our mini-van.

Remember my first car accident? I hit a parked car. We fixed the back end. What goes around comes around I guess. Mr. Man also hit a pole at one point and we fixed the back end yet again.

Remember my second car accident? I hit a deer. Mr. Man replaced the whole front end.

Remember when our engine died? So now it has new insides too.

Last week the battery died. Blew up really... acid leaking out. So she has a new battery too.

I guess the back end was feeling left out again, so ...
I was parked at Costco, minding my own business: shopping and then enjoying their delish hot dogs with The Toddler and our friends. A woman came up to us and asked if either one of us had a Toyota Sienna mini-van. Um, yes... why? (I quickly reviewed where I may have parked.) Anyways, she went on to tell me that someone had just hit this vehicle and driven off and she had his license plate number but that the entire back window was smashed in and the back gate pretty beat up. I lost my appetite and quickly exited to go see if it really was my car. It was. Quick meltdown followed by a hug from my friend and then the realization that my cellphone was also dead... so I borrowed her phone to 1) call the police 2)call Mr. Man to cancel my appointment I wouldn't be making it too, and also fill him in so he could get started with the insurance company 3) call to cancel my sitter ...

The "gentleman" who hit my car had been driving a jeep with a big tire on the back. (It was brand new too- still had the temporary license plate.) He must have just REALLY backed up hard. He did leave a note with his information and DID have insurance, and we had two witnesses, one who left her information and another who stuck around until the police officer came. The police officer was the SAME one who had been there when I hit the deer and commented on whether a deer had hit ME this time. I should mention that he is also good friends with Mr. Man and so he rushed to the scene when he saw our familiar name and number. He really lightened the load, as did my friend who stayed the entire time and took care of The Toddler while I silently freaked out. There was glass all the way up to the dashboard and front seats. The officer took his flashlight to break the rest so that I could "safely" drive the vehicle home to park it in the garage. Now we wait to hear where we are "approved" to take it in to get fixed. Should be good. I'm pretty sure I will be driving this vehicle for the rest of my life. Not much more to replace. Can you believe it?!

A day in the life...

My friend posted her day not too long ago and I loved it. Because I could totally relate. Plus I want to remember these days some day. And today was a NOT normal day with kind of a lot of drama so I'm glad I had started this the other day. The routine and the normalcy of it calms me.

6:17am(or so) Mr. Man's alarm goes off... he's good and gets up and rides his bike in the cold dark to work, apparently there is an extra kid in our bed that I hadn't noticed before... he snuggles with me and tells me about his bad dream that had resulted in ending up in my bed
6:30am - my alarm goes off; I press snooze
-a second child joins my bed announcing, in fact, "I'm joining you!"
-sleep is suddenly not a viable option
6:38am- I hop up and turn off the alarm before it goes again
-shower
-wake up other two children
-encourage piano practicing and breakfast making
-blow dry and get dressed (don't worry, I was in my robe when I woke the kids up)
7:15am -devotional and family prayer
-breakfast (thankfully one of the kids got hungry and made oatmeal while I got ready)
-piano practicing continues and I am summoned continuously for "help"
-get toddler dressed and ready... this is basically a battle every day
8:00am - call children down to get their backpacks packed and warm clothes and gear on to ride their bikes to school
8:10am - big kids out the door to school
-the toddler gets my undivided attention (which he has been waiting for all morning) and I give him his breakfast, and we fit in a game (Three Blind Mice) before heading off ourselves
8:40am - park at university, walk at the slowest on-campus pace ever with the toddler all the way to and up the kajillion stairs to Mr. Man's office
8:50am - leave the toddler to do who knows what (he packed his own backpack of trouble) with Mr. Man while I head off to math class
9:00am - 10:00am math class.
10:00am - pick up the toddler and walk all the way back to the car
-discuss our day with him on the way home (he hates surprises)
10:10am - the toddler plays while I clean up the kitchen, and tidy up in general
-call a friend, who is sick, and plan to take her kids to playgroup for her
-gather applesauce and other goodies for her too
-consider cleaning the kitchen and decide its too big a task for what little time I have left
10:45am- get toddler screaming into car... he doesn't want to leave even though we are headed to HIS playgroup
-pick up my friend's two little guys
-head to playgroup
11:00am-12:00pm - playgroup: enjoy chatting with other moms, manhandling children, and eating a humongous rice krispie treat
-drop of extra kids
-come home and eat lunch with my little buddy
-then we did a bat attack where we put bats up all over the house to surprise the big kids
-read some books together
-the Toddler starts begging for a movie, and really I need to do some homework, so I oblige
-Toy Story/homework time (and I think I called my sister too, oh and probably checked email, blogs, etc.)
2:00ish - go run a quick errand together, the Toddler falls asleep in the stroller there (my errand then became much more enjoyable and relaxing as I perused the entire store!) then transfers to the car then to the couch and slept like a log - LOVE these kinds of naps
3:00ish - work on sharing time for primary
3:40ish - kids arrive on bikes from school and have LOTS to tell me while I feed them cut up apples and hot chocolate (since it was the first snow day)
4:00ish - tell them to run and play since piano lessons start at 4:30
-I don't remember what I did during that time... probably started on dinner or something, I do know I considered cleaning the kitchen and then didn't
4:30 - piano lessons for three eldest, while breaking up fights and all the rest, the Toddler woke up around this time (of course)
5:30 - Mr. Man gets home, the kids do dinner jobs and I work on getting dinner on the table
6:00pm - dinner and ensuing clean-up and lunch making for tomorrow
-kids do homework while I make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies for FHE treat, the Toddler is trying to catch a fairy (dandelion seed) he let in the house and wants to capture and keep
-we actually don't have any practices or extra extras going on - breathe sigh of relief
6:30 - FHE: this one was sort of a disaster, but our activity was a HUGE hit - hide and go seek in the dark (with flashlights)
7:30 - showers for those who need them, bedtime routine and lots of reading
8:00- family prayer and lights out
-homework and studying for me, Mr. Man works then we relax and watch something mind-numbing before going to sleep way to early for grown ups... kitchen still never got cleaned (my Monday job!)

Man Cheese

I'm not sure if it was because two of my boys needed extensive speech therapy, or because they simply can't stand anything "girl," but years ago we had to officially change the name of grilled cheese at our house to "boy cheese." Tantrums would be thrown if I even suggested making grilled or, as they heard it, "girl" cheese. I've gotten used to calling it "boy cheese." But one night last week in the midst of all the extra extras the kids are doing, it got late and dinner had yet to be made, so I suggested grilled cheese. Two of my boys piped right up, "But will you make US boy cheese?" Of course, of course. Little E, however, declared that he didn't want girl cheese or boy cheese, but would I please make him a "man cheese sandwich?" So yes, now we make man cheese at our house. Don't forget to make man cheese or girl cheese shaped like tombstones with RIP in ketchup this Sunday!

Young Love

These two little ones are completely in love. Little Miss even asked her Mom how old she has to be to get married. Little E can't stop talking about her, and wants to be with her constantly, even though he admits that it is a little embarrassing. I would be extremely happy with the in-laws if this love continues, and we all adore Little Miss. Time will tell. He calls her "the love of my life" - and I can't help but smile. Aren't they cute?!

I should be studying right now

Somehow the exam-induced-panic that pushed me to non-stop studying the last time I had a math exam is just not showing up this time. My next exam is in a mere 36 hours. I spent my alone time tonight, while Mr. Man took the kids out for dinner and to the pumpkin patch so I could study, watching "Babies." Finally. I loved it. What a great work of art and outlook of the world in which we live. I baked cookies today. Took the Toddler to the park. Flipped through a magazine. And yet I can barely look over my notes. I've made study guides. I've done the chapter reviews. I have my questions ready for tomorrow's final class and review session. But I must admit, knowing I got a very solid A on the last exam has kind of gotten to my head. I wish I could tell my head to forget that and start studying. But my head also knows how much I love that procrastinating-induced-anxiety feeling. Oh when will it hit me?

My Edited Bad Day

Yesterday I wrote a long post about my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad Monday. And I didn't quite finish it. And today it doesn't seem so bad. In fact, I can see all the good things in that day. Like the huge blessing of good friends who quite simply and quickly come to your rescue. The fact that Mr. Man knows how to fix our one vehicle, which has to be trustworthy since it is our main mode of transportation. I'm grateful for our bikes and also how bike-friendly this town is. I am seriously grateful for kleenex and warm soup and also my bed so I can sleep this sickness away. And I'm grateful for my imagination.

Remember years ago when we spent the whole summer living in a big city in a little hotel? It was a hard time, given Mr. T's health, and we were confined to that small hotel room for way too long. I made up story after story about how we lived in a castle and were trapped and waiting for a knight in shining armor to rescue us (Mr. Man to come home from work). Imagination can save the day. On Monday, when the Toddler and I had to take the bus, I used that imagination to create a great adventure for us. He was not impressed.

First he was upset over WHICH bus we were riding. Apparently all buses are not created equal, even though they look identical. Then he complained continuously about the safety of the ride: "I have a big huge window and no seat belt, this is not safe!" The stranger danger drove him batty: "Who's that guy? I not know him. Where he going?" And the length of the ride (what would have been a 10 minute car ride, but a good half hour bus ride) infuriated him: "I just want to go home! Can this bus take me home yet?" He kept me chuckling, and I saw streets and shops I didn't know existed in our town, and also thought of how lucky I am to have a vehicle that takes me so quickly from point A to point B.

It really was a bad day. But even bad days end and can sometimes make us laugh later. And sometimes they help us appreciate the good days even more. Maybe that's the main point.

Stepping Stones

The toddler and I have been spending too much time together... I've caught his nasty cold and in true adult fashion is has nearly killed me. I know I'll live, but it's crazy how incapacitating a cold can be. At any rate, the little man is starting to dry up a bit from his cold, and even his boogers are getting dry. I caught him picking his nose the other day and asked him what he was digging for. He replied, without a second thought: "Stepping stones."

He's been spending a lot of time lately at the duck pond feeding the ducks and loves to walk around on the stepping stones there... but still a weird response.

He continued, as he pulled out a big crusty one: "Stepping stones make a good snack."

I pulled his finger away from his mouth and offered a different snack, since stepping stones really aren't good for us... and are, well, gross.

"Nope," he corrected me, "the firefighter said it's good to eat stepping stones for snack."

We've been working on fire safety and went through a little firehouse demo where we advised the kids to listen to what the firefighters said, because it could save your life.

Still, I wonder how his little mind works.

Undercover

When I'm at school, I often feel like I am an undercover cop of sorts. While there are some older people like me (and some MUCH older I'm happy to say... like gray haired and all), the majority are obviously those young naives in their late teens early twenties. One girl is a returning student and at 24 she's considered "old." Apparently I used to be old, but am now ancient. I try not to judge. Because I have stories of where that has gotten me. But my goodness. That life is so different from mine, that I truly feel like I am spying on them and their culture.

Their early morning complaints of having to drag themselves out of bed for a 9am class make me giggle, because I refuse to be enraged that 6am is the norm for me. The roommate issues crack me up. I hear friends gathered reading texts from a fellow roommate and guffawing over her response that she did wash the dishes. The problems, the arguments and the opinion that I am so lucky not to have a roommate just about kill me. Um, I live with 5 other people... though we do have the dishes pretty much figured out by now. The parties, the drinking, the study group plans (do they actually study at these things now?), the complimenting on clothing and jewlery and raving about going shopping together, the learning how to spend money and then how to tell Mom and Dad that the credit card has a whopping $430 on it, but that's $430 that they don't have... all these things leave me shaking my head, smiling, and sometimes (rarely) making little comments that are meant to be barely heard. Sometimes I do speak out. Somebody has to. I'll share THAT story another time.

There is one thing that my undercover experience has found that doesn't make me smile. The blatant cheating. It happens in class, but most of it happens outside of class. The pure excitement some of these students have in passing around quizzes, tests and assignments is disgusting. Complete file folders. I'm thinking that if they used this organizational sophistication in their own studies, they could do just fine... but instead I'm appalled to say that there is a lot of memorization of pure answers. As I spend hours doing my homework and studying, it seems hardly fair. I remember once in high school where I caught wind of being able to purchase a copy of our law final from someone. Our teacher, part-time lawyer, part-time teacher, was viewed as sort of a ditz and someone basically went into her office to speak with her and while talking took a copy of the exam on her desk and then copied and distributed - and made a small fortune doing so. I happened to work with this teacher/lawyer in some other capacities and organizations as well, and adored her. I was torn. But eventually wrote her a note letting her know what was going on. I didn't sign it, but somehow she knew it was me. This "ditzy" teacher created a whole new exam for the class, and I felt great joy in hearing the groans around me as the students realized this expensive fact.

I haven't seen any "files" going around for the specific classes I am currently taking. So no reporting has been done. Yes, I would most certainly snitch if I could. But still, it makes me mad. It's no longer survival of the fittest. Has it ever been?

Not a Poet

Mr. T's homework tonight was on poetry. The final assignment was to write three sentences about what you like or don't like about poetry. Here's what my 7 1/2 year old wrote:

I don't imagine.
I don't rhyme.
I don't stanza.

It's like a Seinfeld episode!!! I told him to think of one thing he DOES like about poetry to replace that third sentence, cause I'm mean like that. He's still thinking...

Dad's Special Box

When I was a little girl my Dad started to give speeches as a hobby which then turned into a career. Motivational speeches. His main theme at the time was finding the magic within. For part of his presentation, Dad had a special box created. This box was 3-dimensional and had black and white designs on the outside. But on the inside, each side, top and bottom was made from mirrors. It was a completely mirrored box. At one point in his presentation he would explain that inside this box was all the magic needed to do or be anything. Then he would call upon a volunteer to come look inside the box. Of course, the magic box would reveal the true source of that magic and power: ones self. I loved my Dad's magic box. I thought it was truly amazing. I would beg over and over for Dad to do his spiel and let me find the magic within the box. Whenever friends came over, I would harass him to no end until he would show them the magic as well.

I had no idea, how valuable that box really was: the cost to create it, and the invaluable asset it was to his presentations. And so I was crushed when my Dad rejected my demands to bring the box to school for show and tell. How could he not let me share the magic too? I asked again and again, to no avail. And so I finally took matters into my own hands. I found where the box was stored. I checked on it every day and noticed that it spent days, between presentations, on that high shelf in the basement closet. Never moving. Never being checked on by anyone but me. I put little objects in front of the box so that I would know if it had been moved. It didn't move. So I snuck that box from its hiding spot and into my own clever spot: under my bed. Two, three, four days passed and nobody noticed it's absence. So after almost a week, I did what I'd been told not to do: I took the magic box to school for show and tell. What can I say: it was THE BEST SHOW AND TELL EVER!!!

I brought it back home undamaged and placed it back in its spot without saying a word. But sure that everyone at home knew my misdeed and I would be caught at any moment. I wasn't. Nobody knew until a few years ago when I let out my sneaky indiscretion.

It's memories like these, and the ones that include Mom's special charm bracelet and her amethyst ring (nothing bad happened to them Mom), that help me to look past or at least understand my own childrens' sneaky natures. And maybe re-think how often I say "no"... because at least if I say "yes" I can do so with limitations and guidelines. And, to be honest, I wish I'd stolen that box for good cause how awesome would that be to still have?

Heels = Hair

My kids don't eat the heel (or end) of a loaf of bread. Drives Mr. Man crazy. Last night while making lunches Mr. E asked me if I knew what happened when you eat the heel. I told him I didn't, but was quite interested in finding out. He practically blurted out: "Eating the heel makes you grow hair in your arm pits." I asked him if he wanted to grow arm pit hair (since nobody eats the heels, and I wondered who had started this scary story). "Heck yes," he replied. "I want to be a man. And mans have hair in their arm pits." I giggled at his enthusiasm, then asked who he had heard this fact from. Apparently it was his big brother, who thinks hair in your arm pits is as disgusting as the heels of the bread. Little E dug deeper for the other heel and made a great sandwich. I caught him checking his arm pits soon after. Maybe this "fact" is why my daughter absolutely refuses to eat the heel. Who knows.

Here's my little boy who wants to be a man. Note that he is wearing his little brother's superman shirt which he outgrew years ago, but still adores. I love it.

I don't bribe my kids; I use incentives

General Conference went over well at our house. On top of our regular traditions, we added silly bands to the mix: the new "rage" at school for acquiring and trading. For every talk they listened to, and could tell me three things that were discussed, they would receive a silly band. We had some very attentive listeners and note-takers. I'm surprised and impressed at the messages they grasped and the depth of their learning. And thankful for quiet children so I could listen and absorb as well.