What tweeners say...

If you had a girl...

who had a little curl...

right in the middle of her forehead.

(Just pretend....she had a little one when she was just one)

And if she was good, she was very very good. 

And hardly ever horrid.

Hardly 

 

On her happy birthday, you just might find yourself 

driving her around 

with a bunch of friends...

To do a bit of this...

 

 ...and a little bit of that.

You also might find yourself chuckling and giggling at some of the things tween girls say to each other. 

  

 "Hey there BFF. You know how you and I are the only kids in our ENTIRE class who don't have a cell phone?"

"Yeah, I know." replies the BFF.

"Well pretty soon everyone is going to have a car, and you and I are just going to be sitting around with out one."

"Yeah, I know." agrees the BFF.

Other tween girls riding along in the car could be found saying...

"Do you know that no matter how hard you kick a cat, it will always land on it's feet? Seriously. I know about these things." 

and

"Did you know when you ride Wicked at Lagoon if you open your eyes on the way up you will definitely barf all over the Lagoon workers. I know about these things."

                                      and

"Did you know that my mom hit a cat with her car when she was driving it. The cat didn't stand up."

 

and

"That was totally the best birthday party ever, except for those totally GROSS teenagers who were making out on the ice skating rink. That is just sick."

"Yeah. SO sick."

"Totally sick. I would NEVER do that."

 

Hope they don't ever forget it!

PS....one party guest was a little nervous about having her picture up on the Internet. Thus the flowers over her face. 

Didn't want you to think I didn't like her or anything...

....THAT would be horrid. 

Way worse than running over a cat 

and throwing up on teen Lagoon workers!

 

Stack o' Dimes

  
Have I mentioned that MyHandsomeHusband is a pretty clever Dad? Well, he is. It's true. He's always coming up with fun (and funny!) ways to parent our five hooligans. The man has cleverness ooozing right out of him. You'll never guess what he can turn a few dimes into! Let me show you....

Take several stacks of dimes....

A deck of playing cards... 

Two girls who need to polish up on some multiplication facts.....
 

Turn over two cards and reward a dime to the person who can multiply the numbers fastest. 

And there you have it. Math practice meets Family Game Night. Who would have thought the two could go together so nicely!

Who won the game?

Not me.....my math facts have gone into retirement. 

 

What a wonderful world

I have mentioned before, that having twin boys who are 4 years old is pretty wonderful. Just today I had a little flashback, if you will. A memory of sorts.....

My twin boys had recently mastered the art of walking. It was early in the morning and I had just gotten my older kids off to school.

The phone rang.

The doorbell chimed.

On my way back from answering the chiming door, ear still glued to the phone, my feet stepped in something gooey and sticky and crackly.

What in the world....

I looked up to see BabyTwinBoyAaron with his hands in the garbage can. Egg yolks, egg shells and other random garbage all over his feet, my feet, BabyNate's feet and the surrounding three feet.

What's a poor girl to do, in this very precarious situation!

Both twins started toddling around the kitchen floor marking their paths with gooey, sticky, crackly tracks.

Every time I made a move to pick them up I marked the floor with gooey, sticky, crackly tracks. 

What's a poor girl to do!

Snatch those boys up and mark the path to the kitchen sink, that's what! We got ourselves cleaned up. (which was a very contorted kind of thing in it's own right...trying to get my feet into the kitchen sink....while keeping two toddlers from falling off the counter....yikes....don't picture it for too long. I'm sure it was shockingly unattractive!!) Once sufficiently cleaned up, I maneuvered my way around the mess and set the two boys in the joining room. Then it was mother versus the mess. Gooey, sticky, crackly and all. What a glamorous profession. My college degree was really paying off.

Exactly 45 seconds later, Aaron toddled his sweet self into my view, and what do you know...the small child had exactly 10 wrapped cough drops in his

mouth.

And ten more in his

hands.

Boy, this morning is getting good. Really good.

After prying the gooey, sticky, paper crackly cough drops out of his mouth I looked up to see...

Nate. Who had quietly gotten the mop out, lugged it into the kitchen and plunged it into the gooey, sticky and crackly egg mess that was still all over the floor. What a fine helper.

Fine, indeed. The gooey, and sticky and crackly kind of fine.

What's a poor girl to do in this situation!

Sit down and laugh, that's what. Until she looked up to see that some small child had painted brown mascara all over her lovely white cushioned bench.

Then the poor girl may or may not have cried a little.

And cleaned it all up.

And found herself in need of a morning nap.

And then....a little while later, after she had put her feet up for a spell, she chuckled a little.

And then she thought to herself......
.......I live in a wonderful world.

Wonderfully cute, and funny, and not boring (except the laundry and dishes and the toilet bowl cleaning) and exhausting, and rewarding and fun and precious and PRICELESS. 

Even when it's gooey and sticky and crackly.



Twin Boys age 4.....with a better grasp of egg usage.

Mush. Total Mush

 "Are you kiddin' me!"

 

 "Awwwwwwwww"

 "Sweeeeeeeeeet"

 

 "Oh nooooooooooooo!"

 "This is so boring. When are we going to be done."

 "Never!!!! 

I am Mario. 

I think like Mario.

I dream of tiny mustached men bouncing on top of bad guys.

I want to live my life as Mario.

I will save the princess...

I will collect 5 bajillion coins on the way.....

....this is my destiny......!!!!!!"

 "Except I just made Mario die, Aaron! Dang. Bummer.

Wanna play again....?"

 "I think our minds are turning to mush...."

Total. Mush. 

Nerds at the Ball Game

 

My TeenSonMark and basketball are in love with each other. The handsome kid just can't get enough of the game. Most of his free time is spent shooting hoops. He loves it.

I can tell you something he doesn't love...Playing the piano, that's what. I tried. I honestly tried really really hard. We're kind of a piano playing kind of family. I was really hoping he would jump on the music nerd bandwagon with the rest of us. At this point in time....it is not meant to be. (I'm still holding on to the hope that the 9th grade guitar class just might change his mind. He's got an interest there. Cross your fingers for us!)

What do I do....about all this basketball playing?

I cheer. Really loud when I go to his games. Hopefully I am cheering at the right time. (I'm just a music nerd, you know.)

I drive him around town, pretty much every afternoon so he can practice and shoot hoops and "make some wicked awesome shots, Mom. Seriously, I was on fire!"

I listen to him chatter on about plays and strategy and three pointers and swishing this ball and that ball.

My heart grows up big and large when he makes a great shot at a game and everyone cheers for him. 

 And in those moments do you know what I am most grateful for?

That he has an opportunity to build confidence in himself. That's really what it's about, isn't it? Being confident in one's self....pretty much the most important thing a parent can foster in a child. No matter the venue, ball court or piano recital....confidence is really a priceless gift.

At Marks game last week I looked down for just a split second to see this.......

Seriously? 

 

Wonder what kind of nerd LittleTwinBoyAaron will grow up to be?

Where was this poor kids mom when he was putting his shoes on

.....that's what I'd like to know.... 

Sweaty and Stinky

Do you like to work out? You know. The kind of working out where you get all sweaty and stinky and sore the next day and....skinny. 

Me too! (Still waiting for the skinny to happen. Food blogging is doing a real number on this old girls hips.)

And if the truth were to be told...I'm actually not so crazy about the sweaty and stinky and sore the next day. (If you like stinky....that's nice. Just keep it to yourself, I think you might be the only one.)

However....You know what I love?

Showing up at my local church with a bunch of other moms in old sweats and pony tails.


I love that some very talented ladies are willing to volunteer their time to lead us all in a bout of aerobics and weight lifting.


I love getting my groove on to Smooth Criminal. 

I love dancing (and I use that term very loosely...this body tain't got much coordination) it up to All That Jazz. In my previous life I was a show girl...in my heart I just know it. I think I was really coordinated (and skinny) then.


I love pumping a little iron with other church goin' gals while we talk about life and dishes and laundry and the elementary school and husbands and our graceful dance skills.


I love watching my LittleTwinBoys run around the gym reenacting star wars scenes and killing bad guys with their light sabers.

I love seeing myself improve and get stronger. 


No matter how tired or worn out or stressed or grumpy I am when I show up....I ALWAYS feel better when I leave.


Life gets clearer.

Big long TO-DO lists seem manageable.

And my hips stand a fighting chance for a little bit of shrinkage. That's a miracle in it's own right!


It's kind of funny what sweaty and stinky can do for a person.

 

Sweaty and Stinky combined with a good visit with some pretty fabulous ladies......that's a recipe for happiness.....any day of the week. 
 

Ring Ring...Chuckle Chuckle!

Happy Monday Morning to you all on this very average, gray looking, stormy, middle of February, spring-can't-come-too-soon day. Need a little Monday chuckle? Here you have it.

Ring Ring said the phone.

"Can I answer it, Mom?" from BlondeEmily.

"Be my guest." I say.

"Hello?" my pretty blonde girl says into the phone.


Pause.

"I'm not sure. Let me check."

Then she goes into the bathroom and closes the door.

Pause.

Pause.

The bathroom door opens and Emily proclaims.....

"That was the dumbest phone call I've ever answered! They wanted to know if our toilets were running...how lame is that."


Chuckle-Chuckle from the Mom and the Dad.

"What did you tell them?" we ask.


"I told them, sure enough they were running fine! Then they told me I'd better go and catch them. Humph. So stupid, wasn't it mom?"


Chuckle-Chuckle Chortle-Chortle from the Mom and Dad. 

Ring Ring said the phone. 


"Hello..." said MyDearMother.


"Well, hello there Ma'am. I'm happy to be calling today to offer you a free case of Campbell's Cream of Chicken Soup! All you have to do is sing the Campbell's Soup Jingle to us over the phone and the case of soup is yours!" 


"Sounds great!" said MyDearMother.

"Campbell's Soup is M-M Good. M-M Good. M-M Good...." she sang in her beautiful lilting voice. 


Silence on the other end....


Then.....

Chuckle-Chuckle, Chortle-Chortle from the Campbell's Soup Impersonators.


 Click.

Love you, more than numbers

When I was a little girl MyDearMother would say,
"Love you, more than Numbers....."
 Wow! I would think. Numbers don't ever end!

I find myself saying it to my own kids now and then. Because it's true, and cute and it reminds me of my Mom...and I'm pretty sure she still loves me more than numbers. And sometimes I just like to remind myself of that really wonderful fact. 

 A couple of days ago LittleTwinBoyNate said to me...
 


"Hey Mom, guess what?"

"What!" I said.

"Love you, more than Letters!"

"Wow, that's a whole lot."


"Grandma Pam likes to say that too, hu Mom."


"Yep, she sure does."

When the Bugle Blows....

 The following is a little story about our Valentines Day Tradition, and how it all went down last year. Sure hoping it turns out better this year....

 Written Valentines Day 2010

We have a fun Valentines Day family tradition.
We've had this tradition for about 6 years now.
We all sit down to a nice meal. While we eat we go around the table and take turns telling each member of the family something we love about them. Seems like a good idea, doesn't it!

So, today being Valentines Day and all....we gave our tradition another go.
This is the first V-day our LittleTwinBoys have been old enough to participate. It's also the first year we have had a teenager to participate. That's an interesting combination, I can tell you.
In the past we have had a great, meaningful time.
This year was....choice. Very choice.

LittleTwinBoyNate started and told BlondeEmily about 20 things he loved about her. After that the poor boy was fresh out of ideas. He loved every other person because they watch Star Treck with him. (who let's a three year old watch Star Treck?)

Then someone passed gas.

All individuals, under the age of 35, COULD NOT regain their composer.

Children were hysterical with laughter...
falling off their chairs even....
holding their sides and rocking back and forth, back and forth while they tried unsuccessfully to control their rude horse laughing.

Then MyHandsomeHusband excused everyone from the table.

"Wait!!" gasped TeenSonMark "Isn't Mom going to tell us what she loves about us?"

"She'll tell you when she tucks you in tonight."

Then all 5 children headed down the stairs laughing, and joking, and talking about what how hilarious the dinner was.

We were feeling the love, I can tell you that. Really meaningful love being expressed so eloquently.

That's kids for you. You never know how things are going to end up! Dang that bathroom humor. It can really turn family time upside down.

Right Mom? Remember when I was a kid and I  never laughed about farts, or anything of that nature?
Never.
Ever.

Sick. Really Sick.

 

No, not blueberries. 

Blueberries are not sick.

Just all of my children. Are sick...

One boy last week, and all of his siblings this week. 

They can be seen lounging on every couch in the house snuggling  under large piles of  blankets. They color pictures of blueberries and watch Toy Story 3 and Nanny McFee.

Sounds of blowing noses, hacking coughs, and calls for their mama and some medicine are what you would hear...if you were here. 

And I, their mama-carrier-of-medicine, have noticed something.

....are you ready....

....it's going to be really intellectual and earth shattering.....

Every child wants to be loved and cared for in their own special way. I know. A revelation of sorts. I already knew this simple truth, really I did. It has just become more clear to me these past few days. 

Some kids (the teenson kind) just want to be left alone to stare at the wall, with an occasional joke and chat with his mother.

Some kids want snuggling and cuddling and rubbing of their forehead.

Some kids want a story and a song, or two or four or ten thousand.

Others just want juice. A lot of juice. 

And still others are  tickled pink by a mama willing to play a card game or two.

This whole motherhood gig? It's not a one-size-fits-all-sort-of-sport.

More like a....

look around

try and see

what they

need

when they 

need 

it 

not everyone

needs 

the same thing

TakeMeOutToTheBallGame...

kind of sport. 

Motherhood. The game of love.

Hope I'm playing it right.

Haven't seen a rule book lying around anywhere.

Pass the blueberries 

and the cough drops......

Moody and Mad

 This pretty little face belongs to my daughter, FashionAnna.

She is a girl with many moods. 

She is 11 years old....going on 12.

Need I say more? 

You remember being that age, don't you?

We all had about 79 mood swings a day, back then. 

Sure glad I'm down to only 20.

Some of her moods are exceedingly endearing.

You ought to see how the girl can handle littletwinboys, age 4.

Sometimes she gets kind of moody and mad.

The sweet thing can go from happy to grouchy faster than the speed of light.

I'm so glad I have learned to manage my grouchiness...

...it takes me at least 5 seconds to switch from happy to grouchy.

Sometimes she is down right hilarious.

Check this out....

  
On a very cold and foggy night a couple of  weeks ago, I was driving some of my children around our little neighborhood.  I had my TeenSonMark, FashionAnna and her dear friend Emily with me in the car. 

When we pulled up to Emily's house to drop her off I noticed one of our family's scooters laying in the driveway. 


"Oh, boy. Looks like one of the LittleTwinBoys rode our junky scooter down here and left it." I said. "Hey Mark, hop out of the car and ride that thing home, will ya?"


"Sheesh, Mom. I'm in my basketball shorts and it's freezing out there!" was his plea. 


"I'm sure you'll manage. You can ride that thing home in less than 10 seconds. Hop out and get the job done, please."

Silence from FashionAnna.

"Alright....but I think this is totally unfair. I didn't even ride it down here....!" he called as he begrudgingly hauled himself out of the van.


FashionAnna and I watched him ride off in to the fog. 


"Hey, Mom." she said. "Want to hear something funny?"


"Sure" I said. I like funny, you know.


"I was the one who rode that scooter down here and left it."


And then....


HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA....all the way home from the mother and her daughter.


After I had pulled up our driveway and gotten my horse laughing, eyes watering, chortle attack under control I said...


"Honey, that was a really funny joke."


"Thanks Mom. I didn't know if you would think it was funny. You know how you sometimes get kind of moody and mad about stuff like that."

Moody and mad?
Me?
Heavens no.
Haven't been moody and mad since I was 11 years old...
.....going on 12. 

The Lesson

A couple of weeks ago, on a cold Sunday morning I sat pondering in my room.

Door closed.

Church manuals spread out on my lap. 

Preparing for my Relief Society lesson coming up later that afternoon.

What was my lesson on?

Teaching your children about intimacy, of course. You know. One of the standards. Easy.
No brain-er....

The Church I belong to has put out a really great manual for parents on this very subject.
A Parents Guide, is what it is called.  I was reading through it getting all kinds of info, storing up content, pondering on what I might pass on to the great ladies in my ward. 

Then I got a headache. 

Then I had a lot of stomach trouble, the details of that I won't bore you with. 

These things are not really ever discussed at church! (Intimate things...not stomach trouble! Ok stomach trouble  isn't discussed at my church either.)

I was worried my lesson might be awkward, uncomfortable...what if I say something really dumb, was my worry. 


I'm kind of dumb sometimes....


....I just can't help it.


I needed a good opener. Something to put us all at ease.

MyHandsomeHusband reminded me of a  Cute Little Story. 

Cute Little Stories work well at the beginning of lessons. Especially this one!

Here you have it...

One day a very lovely Primary worker was giving a lesson to some young  boys and girls at church.

"Children..." she said in a very sweet voice.

"We are going to talk about a very special thing today. I will give you a couple of clues and let's see if you can guess what it is!"

Hooray, thought the children. We like clues.

"Only the boys have it....."

"It starts with the letter P....."

A little boy sitting on the front row threw his hand up into the air and shouted, very loudly.

"I know! I know! It's a _____________!!!!!!!!!!!"

 

He didn't say Priesthood, like the primary worker thought he would. 

Nope. 

He said the word you are all thinking.

The word that starts with a P....

and only the boys have it....

and it lives behind a zipper...

and you never discuss it at church....

and I don't even dare write it here, lest I be blamed for adding inappropriate adult content to this family friendly blog.......

Lucky for me, the sisters in my ward got a good chuckle out of the Cute Little Story.

I promised them not to use the P word in my lesson. The way I see it, they must be familiar with the P word. 
Mostly familiar.
I think.
Maybe not?
This post is getting awkward.

Suffice it to say, the Cute Little Story helped break the ice. The lesson turned into a great discussion on communication, and helping kids understand a sensitive, but important topic. 


And all was well.


Until the next lesson.....heaven help me.

Easier. Not Easy.

 I would, just for the record, like to announce that having twin boys who are 4 years old is much easier than having twin boys who are

4 days old...

14 months old...

or even 34 months old. 

Now don't get me wrong. I didn't say it was EASY to have twin boys who are 4. Just easier than it has been in the past.


When my boys were about 2 years old I took them swimming. I inadvertently forgot to bring their life jackets. That little mistake made for a really wild day, I tell ya. Nothing like a little double trouble jumping into the death traps of 4 feet of water to put a little spring in your step. It wore this old girl out, to say the least!


That day the Nicest Little Lady (also the mother of twin boys) came up and put her arm around me. "Listen honey. I have been watching you from afar and I couldn't help but come on over and tell you....IT IS GOING TO GET EASIER!!!!!! By the time these boys are 4, you are going to be sitting pretty." 


Sitting Pretty, hu?
I like pretty.
Couldn't wait! 

Yesterday I took my boys swimming. I brought the life jackets this time! That is a mistake only to be made once.  I couldn't help but reflect on the words of the Nicest Little Lady. While I watched my boys go down the big slide alone, climb the stairs to the top of the slide alone, swim around in their life jackets alone....I had to admit! The Nicest Little Lady was correct. Things are getting easier! I felt Pretty. I dare say, I was even Sitting Pretty! You wouldn't really even believe how Sitting Pretty I was. I just kicked back and soaked for a spell while those cute little guys climbed up the stairs to the slide one million times. 


Then.


Oh, then.

We went into the dressing room and showered the chlorine off our Sitting Pretty bodies. While LittleTwinBoyAaron was hanging out in the shower, LittleTwinBoyNate and I went around the corner to get dressed. When I was done attending to Nate, I called out to Aaron. "C'mon Aaron, it's your turn to get dressed." Were my exact words, in fact. 


No response.


None at all. 


I peeked around the corner to find 3 ladies standing in the showers. 

No Aaron to be seen. 

I looked. I searched. I went out of  the dressing room into the pool area. I looked! I searched!


Then I spotted my missing boy. All the way out in the lobby sobbing his guts out and calling my name...calling my name.

As soon as I saw him I plowed my way through a few small crowds and into the lobby. In my dripping wet suit, towel wrapped around my head, pair of bright purple crocks on my feet. I scooped that boy up in a fast hurry and cuddled him silly.

Wasn't Sitting at this point.

Wasn't Pretty, either.
It's hard to look pretty when you are having a small heart attack. 


On the way home the missing boys twin brother wet his pants all over the soft cushioned seats of my mini van. Apparently he drank half of the pool each time he came barreling out of that slide.


Wasn't Sitting while I scrubbed the pee-diddle out of the seats that afternoon.


Wasn't really Pretty, either.
Pee-diddle scrubbing and Pretty don't really mix that well.


Twin boys who are 4 years old are easier, I said. 
Not easy. 
Nothing worth while in this life is....
is it?

Snowboots, Swimsuits and a Loser....

I have a little question I would like to propose on this very cold January day. What do you suppose Snowboots, Swimsuits and Losers have to do with each other? Hmmm. Think it over now.

Any ideas? Well. I suppose I'll just have to tell you how all three appeared in my life right at the same moment.

Last week MyHandsomeHusband and I were traveling to Bear Lake with all five of our children in tow. The weather was pretty clear here in town when we left home. By the time we got to Logan Canyon (4 hours later...usually takes 1 1/2) it was a dark, stormy, cars sliding off the side of the road, windy blizzard. We cut our losses and opted to check into a hotel in Logan and wait out the storm. Driving through a canyon in a blizzard is one thing....doing it in the dark is just down right foolish.

Now what do a couple of ya-hoo's with 5 kids do in a hotel? They swim, that's what. Swim. And Sleep. They swim until all of the children are tired enough to sleep soundly, soundly, soundly. We counted our lucky stars that we had packed our suits! All seven of us squeezed our holiday bodies into our suits (we looked really good....really skinny and good) and we were ready to swim. Looking like a bunch of dainty swim suit models we each proceeded to pull on a pair of heavy winter boots. Then we traipsed our fashionable selves through the snowy parking lot to the pool. Now I'm not sure if you have ever tried wearing your swimming suit with heavy winter boots...but suffice it to say it is One. Classy. Ensemble. I dare say the ladies from Desperate Housewives could take a fashion lesson from none other than yours truly.

Ok....in all actuality we looked like a bunch of losers. Big (and some of us really fat) Losers. The funny part was when we got to the pool....we met a real life loser. The kind of Loser that is really hip these days. Someone who, in fact is hoping to be the biggest kind of loser there is.

While swimming that snowy night we had the privilege of meeting Justin Pope, contestant on this seasons Biggest Loser. He happened to be from Logan and was on a 2 week break from the show to visit with his family. MyHandsomeHusband and I have watched almost every season of the show and were thrilled to be able to visit with someone who is right in the middle of the experience. He and his family were gracious and lovely people. We chatted with them for almost 2 hours. Loved it. Loved hearing little inside tidbits about the show. I won't tell any of his detailed secrets...but he did look pretty darn good. Last night our family had a great time watching the season premier of The Biggest Loser, and witnessing the transformation he has already made.

Good times.

Good times wearing Snowboots and my Swimsuit....and meeting a great Loser. 

A Tooth Fairy Special

Good morning, and boy do I have a cute story for you all today!

I'd like you to meet my sister Alli and her family.

Don't they look like a nice bunch of folks?

Well, I'll tell you something.

They are!

Last week Alli was feeling
just
a little 
frustrated.

The cause of the frustration?

A little ol' tooth. You know the kind.
The kind that are stubborn. 

The kind that need to be pulled right out of their home 
so that big grown up teeth can fill the space.

      The kind of teeth that live right here in this pretty little mouth!


                              Well, this pretty little mouth kept 
                                saying things to her mother like.....

Please don't pull it out.
It hurts too bad, Mom!
Don't make me do it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I would rather clean the toilets for 10 years than pull out this tooth!!
(okay, I made that last one up. Couldn't help it.)

 Alli had heard these dramatic statements one too many times....

Did she get angry?

Heavens no.

Did she curse?

What kind of mother would curse! Certainly not me!

Did she get out a string and tie one end to the tooth and the other end to the back door?

The girl is much more clever than that!

She simply said....

"You know dear. I just heard that the tooth fairy is running a special. All kids that leave a tooth under their pillow tonight will receive FIVE DOLLARS instead of the usual one dollar. 

But there is a trick. 

The special is for one night only."

"Hmmmmmm......" said the pretty mouth with the loose tooth.

And then the pretty mouth and the girl bounded off

to 
consider 

the situation.

After a whole 15 seconds of consideration 
the pretty mouth 
shouted...

"Hey Mom! I pulled out my tooth!!!"

"Really!" said the wise mother. 

"Who would have guessed!"